#i guess all i can do is reread and reread but it's just so empty in comparison

[mikeytxt]

i was supposed to prepare for something we're doing tomorrow but why do that when i could marinate in all sorts of feelings, uh, instead

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 

                            Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 

Oh no. 

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.” 

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” 

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”  

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

            all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,” 

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?” 

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.” 

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

[scoops-aboy86]

Secret Admirer

Steddie Week 2024, July 1: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

wc: 2131 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

cw: negative self talk (steve), allusions to unhealthy use of drugs and alcohol (eddie), and one horny paragraph

In the first few letters, Eddie had tried to disguise his handwriting. It occurred to him after a while, though, that there would be no reason for someone like Steve Harrington to recognize it, so he stopped. And he was right, nothing happened. 

Steve hasn’t figured out the secret admirer letters he kept answering were written by none other than the official Freak of Hawkins High. Hell, Steve hasn’t even worked out that he’s a he. Though a few vaguely worded sentences every now and then suggest that Steve might not be assuming she either, which is…interesting. Possibly nothing, but interesting all the same. And Eddie knows he’s probably just stringing himself along by doing this, but he’s about to repeat his senior year of high school for the third goddamn time and this is a better option than drinking or dipping into the harder stuff that Reefer Rick expects him to sell. Broken heart likely, but at least he doesn’t wake up with a headache or the shakes.

Now it’s well into summer, and the PO Box he’d had since he was sixteen (for Blueboys and other mags that would get him equally tarred and feathered if anyone finds out) gets mail every damn day.

Eddie looks down at the most recent letter, rereading it for the hundredth time with a joint in one hand, several empty beer cans littering the bedspread and floor of his room around him. 

Dear Secret Admirer, Hey, I’m sorry if I came on too strong in my last couple of letters. I get why you don’t want to tell me who you are. We probably went to high school together, right? You don’t write like a middle schooler and no one who graduates sticks around in this stupid town besides me. I guess that makes me stupid means you probably knew me when I was still a douchebag. Sorry about that. I hope I never said anything to you or let Tommy push you around. Except I don’t know why you would’ve started writing to me in the first place if I had? It’s not like I would’ve written back if I was still that popular guy who everyone talked to and thought was so cool. Yeah, I admit it, I thought I was hot shit back then too! But it turns out, they only give you the spotlight as long as you don’t put a toe out of line. Don’t point out when they’re being assholes. You wouldn’t believe the kind of shit some people will say when they think you already agree with them about everything.  Anyway, I’m trying to be better now. Genuinely, if I’m not, if I’ve been an asshole in these letters at all, please tell me. And it’s not like I’m tired of writing to you, I just. Wouldn’t getting to talk in person be even better? Or we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to, that’s okay! You can come by Scoops and tell me it’s you and I’ll give you a free ice cream cone or something, whatever you want. Because actions speak louder than words, right? You keep sending me all these nice letters, and I’m not the best with words so I want to give you something too. (I don’t mean that like That wasn’t a come-on, I swear. Shit, I should rewrite this again but this is already the fifth draft, it’s not getting any better than this. Sorry.) — Steve PS, I don’t know if you have been to Scoops already, but if you’ve seen my coworker’s whiteboard I swear I’m not interested just because I keep striking out. Turns out I don’t actually know how to talk to girls without being weird. It’s weird being done with high school and not have that stuff in common to talk about, and I used to be this cool guy that I’m really not anymore so I panic and all this bullshit (who am I kidding) bullshit comes out my mouth and it’s EMBARRASSING. Anyway. I really like your letters, it’s been great having someone to talk to even if it’s not really talking a face to face thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m kind of a loser now. Anyway, have a nice day! Fuck, Robin is right, I SUCK

The first bullshit in the postscript is crossed out so hard there’s a tear in the paper. All the scribbled out bits are borderline illegible, like Steve really tried, but Eddie can still make out most of it and can guess the rest from context. The very last word, for example, is totally obscured, but he has seen the You Rule / You Suck board, so. Yeah.

It makes his heart ache, the way Steve talks about himself sometimes. The way his insecurities bleed through artlessly on the page like coffee stains. Eddie alternates between wanting to wrap him up in soft things to protect him from whatever sharpness left him so cut open, and wanting to smother him with kisses for the bravery in being so genuine with a nameless, faceless stranger. 

Except Steve isn’t his. Steve is straight, for all he’s apparently being kind enough not to make assumptions, and could never want Eddie in the same way. And it’s not fair, the hanging back that Eddie’s been doing, holding out now that Steve has come to look forward to his letters just because of a little (huge, massive, life-threatening) fear of rejection. 

He’s been dragging his heels so long that Steve is feeling rejected, and that just won’t do. 

Sighing, Eddie takes another long drag before stubbing the remaining nub of the joint out. Scrubs his hands across his face and considers getting another beer. Or maybe forgetting the corner he’s backed himself into, with Steve wanting to meet—not only to satisfy the curiosity of knowing who his secret admirer is, but because he actually seems to like the person writing to him. (Actually wrote that they didn’t have to talk if Eddie didn’t want to, Jesus H. Christ, why did he have to be such a fucking sweetheart about that?) 

It’s late, and he’s already stripped restlessly down to just his boxers for bed. He could push it all aside, push his hands down the front of his underwear and get lost in different thoughts about Steve for a while, for the trillionth time. God knows that always works to clear his head, sometimes twice if he’s ambitious about it, enough for sleep to take him. 

Instead, Eddie drops the letter on his bed and hunts around on his desk for a notebook he can stand to tear a few more pages out of. Once he has what he needs, he chews on the end of his pen for several minutes  before putting it to the paper.

Steve, my beloved, It has been some time since I’ve replied. My deepest apologies for that, as it seems like you’ve taken that to mean something I absolutely did not intend. I received all of your letters, and “too strong” is not how I would describe them. They were lovely, sweetheart. I have reread them many times, I have slept with them under my pillow, I have cried happy tears over them for the thought that you might actually share my affection enough to want so badly to know who I am.  Very quickly, to address some of your questions and concerns: One, we did share some years in high school, yes, and I’m pleased to read that you think my writing is at a level appropriate to someone approximately our age. (I wish more of my teachers shared that view, but alas, I’m pretty sure that most of them hate me. Except for the drama teacher, who would let me get away with murder as long as I didn’t stain or break any of his props with the act.) Two, Hagan was a dick, but more to my friends than me directly, and the worst you ever did was laugh when I dropped my books a few times, that sort of thing. Water under the bridge, fuck high school, etc. etc.. Three, you have not engaged in any assholery in your writing, or in any of your actions that I’ve seen in a long time.  And four… you should’ve left the double entendre (i.e. the “I want to give you something too”); I wouldn’t have minded.  Obviously I think of you as prime boyfriend material—thoughtful, good sense of humor and humility, and whenever those younger kids swing by to pester you at the mall you put up a good front of being exasperated and annoyed, but through all that I can tell you care about them. (They say never trust someone who would hurt an animal, it works for kids too.)  But you’re also a total smoke show, baby. The effortless way you moved around the basketball court, same as in the water when you were still on the swim team, and in those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off with this paragraph.  It was a relief to write that, to be honest. I am not without my fantasies, you see; in a lot of ways, they’re all I have. The real reason I’ve been hesitant to respond to all of your heartfelt entreaties to meet, sweetheart, is that I’m afraid. I’ve been head over heels for you for so long—for your looks before anything else, I’ll admit, but the douchebag boy from high school that you mentioned is long gone. A man stands in his place, and what a man you are. In writing to you, I wanted to make clear first and foremost how ardently I admire and love you, lest my feelings be mistaken for mere tawdry teen lust.  And hopefully I’ve succeeded. If so, can you see now how actions can be carved in with the words? It is the intent that shines through, and I can read in between the lines, Steve, that you are being genuinely honest with yours. All those disparaging remarks you made about yourself in your last letter, both crossed out and not, are probably you being too hard on yourself, but they speak to the fact that you both understand you’ve made mistakes in the past and are trying to pay penance for them. That, along with your fantastic hair and magnificent ass, are just a few of the reasons I remain, as always— Your Secret Admirer P.S. I don’t mind weird. Like it, even. Bring it on, big boy.  P.P.S.  If all I could ever have with you is one night alone, I’d take it and be grateful.

Eddie’s letter is almost twice as long as Steve’s, but whatever. That’s par for the course; he never expected Steve to be much of a wordsmith, even though the guy is clearly putting in a lot of effort. Writes drafts, apparently. Unlike Eddie, who bangs all that out in pretty much one go and merely skims it before sliding it in an envelope, sealing it in, slapping on a stamp and address, and throwing it off the bed. 

Then he falls into bed and strips his dick to the thought of Steve reading the letter and thinking about his mouth, half in a hot anonymous way and half in some imaginary reality where Steve knows it’s him and wants this just as badly. Of Steve groaning out how good it feels and maybe wanting to hold him after, fall asleep together, like they’re…

The next morning (or afternoon, whatever, it’s summer vacation), Eddie reviews his slightly fuzzy memory of the letter after stepping on the envelope and realizing, oh, right. Overly verbose and dramatic, the way he always is but even more so when tipsy. And… fuck it. One horny paragraph, he decides, won’t be the end of the world. Maybe it will scare Steve off; maybe he’ll enjoy it. Let fate decide, just like at the dnd table. 

Eddie shoves the envelope into the mail drop box just outside the trailer park gate on his way into town and sends a prayer out to no god in particular that he hasn’t just rolled a nat one.

~

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

Tagging some folks who expressed interest about this story in my Wiggly Wednesday post last week, let me know if you don't want to be tagged going forward: @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

[saltandfire-blog]

All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

--

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

[lovingseventeen]

How would svt react to you skipping your meals because you're too engrossed in the thing you're doing? 🤔

svt reacts to you accidentally skipping meals

a/n: thank you thank you all for 900! so glad our community on this blog is gradually getting larger! paragraph format for this post bc some of these scenarios got a bit longer than i anticipated.

seungcheol:

oh he is not happy, but he’s far more concerned than he is mad. he sent you a text around noon asking what you were up to and you told him: just a paper. when he comes over you greet him quickly at your door, but your hug is far too short when you’re already hurrying back to your seat.

“i’ll make food or something after, let me just finish this one paragraph!” you tell him, voice already getting father and farther away from him. he follows you back to your room, plopping onto your bed as you type away at your laptop. he’s scrolling on his phone in the quiet room when your stomach grumbles loudly.

he looks over the first time, easing his head to see that you were still working. then, not even five minutes later it happens again.

“hey, when was the last time you ate today?”

you pause, “i don’t know? i had a bagel from breakfast?” then you return back to your paragraph

he’s focused on you now, propping himself up on his elbows. “wait, so you didn’t eat lunch?”

“i guess not…” you reply, half paying attention to him as you reread your words

he’s shifting from your bed and you see him leave your room from your peripheral. maybe thirty minutes later he’s coming back into your room to gently grab a hold of your wrist.

“cmon, you need to eat, i just ordered food so you don’t have to do anything.”

“wait but this part needs-”

“baby,” he says gently, his other hand turning your chin to look at him, “is this due tonight?”

“no?”

“then can you please take a break? it’s not good for you to skip meals you know.”

he looks so concerned and he has brought to your attention that you actually are hungry. your stomach feels like it's shrinking into itself, making you feel quite empty.

“okay cheol, you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” you say, getting up to walk to your kitchen with him.

“i am, but you’re the priority right now, y/n.”

jeonghan:

you can't escape his light scolding whines.

“ayy,” he says, eyebrows furrowed when he sees the remnants of your iced coffee, your supposed “breakfast”, which only consists of melted iced now, “this is all you’ve had today?”

“you know this isn’t good for you…” he trails on.

before you know it, he’s tapping away on his phone and browsing for where to order from immediately. he doesn’t need to ask you because he knows you so well already.

when the food comes in, he’s opening the containers and setting them in the table near you, allowing the smell of the hot food to finally make you notice the growl in your belly

to speed up the process he’ll literally grab the takeout menu that comes with the food and fan the smell towards you. or better yet, he’ll set up an actual fan to waft the smell of food at you at a higher velocity. “jeonghan turn that off! the food is gonna get cold!”

“so you’ll eat,” he determines proudly.

joshua:

eyes got so wide at the realization that you haven’t eaten all day. he immediately tries to find the quickest snack to get something into your stomach.

i’m a believer in him cutting up fruits for you. then when he notices that you haven’t touched the fruits next to you, he’ll go so far as to feed you.

“c’mon, eat this, babe” he coaxes, gently prodding at your lips with the cubed melon on the fork. will tap your cheek with a finger to signal you to open your mouth if his voice isn’t enough to grab your attention

he’s still cheeky though so at some point he’ll give you your little tap only for you to open your mouth to nothing.

“hey! i thought you were feeding me” you pouted.

he rubs the top of your head, giving in immediately.

“looks like i’m spoiling someone here a little too much” (he can’t help it anyway).

jun:

it’s already 7pm and he returns to your apartment to see you in the same position he left you in. you were hunched over on your desk, still hyper focused on this little lego set you were building.

“junnie! look i’m almost done!” you exclaim, beckoning him to walk over to see your work.

“hey,” he says in his deep “extra manly voice”, “have you not eaten yet.” his arms are crossed but he softens when you proudly show him your bouquet of lego flowers.

“i only have one more flower left, but isn’t this so cute?” you gush, holding the vase up to him.

“they’re pretty,” he agrees, tucking your hair behind your ear, “i’ll be right back as you finish up.”

“okay” you hum, gathering the pieces for the last flower

he walks away and within 15 minutes, you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. he comes back to set a bowl of (quick but delicious) fried rice next to you.

“here, c’mon, eat up babe”

“there’s still some more..” you begin, but he pushes a spoonful of rice into your mouth (he blew on it first, don't worry).

“you can finish it after you eat though, right? you haven’t eaten all day.. you should eat while it’s warm” he encourages.

“true, you did make it really good today,”you decide. “i’m very lucky to have you.”

he smiles at your words but returns to his “ver stern man voice”, “you are. so to keep me you better make sure you don’t skip your meals again.” 😤

hoshi:

he pulls a very dramatic romeo and juliet move.

he facetimed you while he was getting driven home since he wouldn’t be able to see you in person that week.

“did you see the food we ordered for the staff today! we should go there when i’m finally free, i want you to try their noodles” he rambled.

“sure let’s do that,” you smiled, happy to see his excitement.

“did you eat dinner yet, baby?” he asked.

“dinner? oh wait, i didn’t have lunch” you thought out loud.

“you didn’t!” he exclaimed, head dropping back in his seat dramatically, “baby you shouldn’t do that!”

“i didn’t realize!” you laughed, rolling your eyes as his head was still tilted back, hand covering his face.

“how could my love forget to feed themselves?” he whined.

“soonyoung, i just got so invested in my paper!” you explained, “i wasn’t even hungry!”

“baby,” he says, now holding his phone very close to his face, “if you don’t eat i won’t eat.”

“what are you talking about!” you chuckled.

“it’s not fair to eat if you’re starving.”

“soonyoung, light of my life, my love, i didn’t purposefully skip lunch. please, you need to eat too, with all your dancing and horanghae-ing.” at the end of your sentence he can't help but give you his signature tiger paw hand gesture.

“promise you won’t forget again?”

“i will do my best,” you agree, lifting your own hand to horanghae back at him and he takes this promise very seriously.

wonwoo:

let out a soft, but audible gasp when he texted you at 4pm asking what you ate only to find out that it was nothing.

:0 that's not good he sent

i didn't even realize that lunch passed wonu

he left you on read, and you wondered if this was actually going to be an argument between the two of you even if it wasn't that big of a deal. at least, not that big of a deal to you.

you wait to see if he's just taking a moment to text you back. then thirty minutes later, two of your co-workers are bringing in cups of coffee and a bag full of sandwiches.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket soon after. your heart warms when you see that it's a message from wonwoo.

they told me it arrived, did you get it yet?

you're about to type your reply when he continues.

i know your team is probably busy so you can't fully sit and eat a bento lunch box, right? so i ordered sandwiches so you guys could eat and work if you had to

your co-workers are setting the food on your shared table and you can see the slight confusion on everyone's faces. "oh it's from wonwoo," you explain, "he sent food because i told him we skipped lunch today." you get a chorus of excitement from everyone and various responses of "tell him we said thanks!"

this is very sweet of you wonwoo, thank you <3 you made me (and my team) very happy :) you sent

i'm just glad you get to eat :) but try not to skip meals from now on please

i will try, love u (i'm going to devour a sandwich now)

woozi:

jihoon himself skips meals a little too regularly. he gets caught up in his studio and before he knows it, the sun has set and he hasn't eaten all day.

ohoho, but when he finds out that you haven't eaten all day he finds himself in a bit more of a panic than he ever would for himself. you called him after work, "do you want to get food when you get out? it was so busy at my job that i didn't even realize that i missed lunch."

"what? you didn't eat?" he asked, suddenly alert even though he was just starting to feel tired.

"yeah, i didn't even realize what time it was until all of our customers cleared out," you replied, "so do you wanna go out? i feel like i could eat a horse."

"yeah, let's go eat, you need to eat," he agreed, immediately getting ready to pick you up.

at the restaurant he encourages you to get whatever you want. even when you're just skimming the menu and you mutter, "huh, this looks interesting," he's telling you, "you want to get that? order it."

"i was just looking at it babe," you chuckle.

"you can get it if you want, you can get all of it if you want, i just want you to get full."

he's very attentive, further asking you what drink you want and if you want to get dessert after too.

dokyeom:

you're in the kitchen reading a book one day and he asks you, "do you want some ramen too? i'm hungry and i think this is all we have."

"i think i'll eat a little later, my book is starting to get interesting so i might read a couple more chapters," you reply.

"you sure?" he checks, walking over to you, "because it'd be bad if i took care of myself and let you starve, i'd be a bad boyfriend then."

he ran a hand through your hair as you chuckled, "you could never be a bad boyfriend, not when you're so sweet." he hums in response before walking back to the stove to check his boiling water.

eventually he finishes making his ramen and he goes into the living room to watch something while he eats. (he'd eat in the kitchen but he doesn't want to be loud when you're reading). the warm soup makes him feel so cozy after and he really just passes out on the couch while his show keeps playing.

dokyeom wakes up about two hours later, much past lunch time. he wanders back into the kitchen a little groggy to see if you're still there. he notices that not much has changed since he fell asleep other than that fact that you're sitting cross-legged on the chair.

"did you eat yet, baby?" he asks.

you momentarily pause your reading, "hm? oh, i guess not."

"huh?" he gasps, glancing at the clock. "baby.."

"i'm in the middle of a really good chapter!" you explain.

"but baby you gotta eat," he pouts. "how 'bout this, if i run out to buy a couple things and i cook it, will you put your book down?"

"you don't have to go through all that," you tell him, "i could just have ramen-"

"no, no, you can't eat that when you're been starving all day," he disagrees, "i'm going to give you some nutrition." he's already walking out of the kitchen to get dressed to go out.

you fully put your book down by now, "i'll come with you to the store. i feel bad if i make you do that all by yourself."

"you can keep reading if you want," he tells you genuinely, "i don't mind, i just want you to eat something good." this is one of those moments where you realize how sweet your boyfriend really is.

"i'll come with you," you confirm, "and let's cook together too, hm?"

he can never say no to you. plus, he loves your company. "i guess we do make a good team, yeah," he smiles.

mingyu:

immediately gets to cooking in the kitchen. he isn’t preparing just one dish either but a spread of food, from various side dishes of veggies to braised meat that goes so well with rice.

“you better eat all of this to make up for your lack of nutrients today” he huffed, sitting across from you after setting everything around you. he stands up again and he'll take the bookmark in your hand and put it into your book for you too.

“gyu you know i can’t eat all of this by myself,” you laughed, “but thank you for cooking, you know.”

"i know, just eat as much as you can, you shouldn't be on an empty stomach," he tells you, further pushing the dishes for you. when you try to offer him a bite, he won't open his mouth, pushing you spoon back towards you.

minghao:

so you were painting and you got so deep into groove that you didn't realize that three hours have passed and that your stomach is currently running on a cup of coffee.

"hi baby, i'm home," he announced as he entered your door.

he finds his way to you first to place a kiss on top of your head. "hi, hao," you hummed back, careful to keep your hand steady as you dragged your brush across your canvas. for a moment, the two of you stayed in silence to avoid disrupting your movement.

though what actually ended up interrupting the quiet was your stomach letting out a very loud growl.

"are you hungry?" he asked.

"i guess i am," you murmured, rinsing your paintbrush in water. "wait, now that i think about it, i don't think i ate lunch?"

"you didn't?" immediately his eyebrows are furrowed and you realize he probably has an incoming lecture already forming in his head. "you know you shouldn't skip your meals..."

"i know!" you explained, "but i just got so into this, i mean, i think this is in the running to become my favorite painting yet." when you wiped your cheek, you accidentally left a stroke of blue paint.

minghao, as caring as he is, crouches down and wipes off that paint with one of hi thumbs. "you know i love your creativity, and this painting looks great so far, it really does, but we can't have you passing out before you finish it, right?"

you smile at his comments as he continues, "can you take a break? eat something? it doesn't even have to be big meal but you should have something."

seungkwan:

he was appalled when he saw the breakfast he bought you still on the counter, untouched.

he walks into your room where you're working on a project for the nth hour. "what's this?" he asks, holding up the plastic bag of food.

"it's what you brought home this morning?" you replied, before immediately going back to you little diorama.

"and why is it not in your stomach?" he huffs, arms now crossed.

"uhh, i lost track of time?"

"unacceptable," is decides, but he walks over to you and breaks off bite-sized pieces of bread the bread he bought to personally feed you anyway.

"thankf-you" you mumbled back as he fed you.

"tsk, what you you do without me? starve?" he tutted (but the way he feeds you is still so gentle). he wipes off the crumbs from the corners of your mouth and asks you if you want anything else when you do finish the bread <3

vernon:

vernon drops his jaw in the most cartoonish way when he finds out.

"you haven't eaten yet?"

his (perfect) eyebrows knit together as he contemplates what to do, as you don't usually skip your meals. this wasn't exactly on his boyfriend-responsibilities bingo card.

"this isn't something you do regularly, right? or have i been missing this for a long time because that would be bad," he thinks out loud.

"vern, it's just today. i didn't even realize how much time passed," you explain.

"mm good to know it wasn't on purpose but i'll order something for you now," he decides, head quirking to the side as he scans his phone for nearby restaurants.

precious boy ends up ordering from two very different restaurants because he doesn't know which you'd prefer but he was a little panicked and figured: better safe than sorry. it's very weird when one bag of food comes to your house with burgers and fries and the other arrives with noodles and soup.

dino:

dino jokingly picks a fight with you when he finds out. you both wind up being a little loud, but not actually fully yelling.

you're surprised by him sitting a little ominously on your kitchen table despite the bags of freshly delivered food on it.

"is everything alright?" you ask.

"you!" he points, "you always take a cute picture of your lunch, so why didn't you have lunch today!"

"wow someone here is a detective, huh?" you chuckle, "you figured out i missed lunch from that?"

"this is serious y/n," he says, tone proving otherwise and fist coming down on the table with no actual force. "it's bad for you to miss lunch."

"okay, okay, yessir i understand i won't do it again," you joked, even putting your hand over your heart as a promise.

"you're not taking this seriously!" he whined.

"i am," you assured.

"no you're not!"

"chan! i thought you knew i missed lunch! i'm hungry and this food is getting cold!" it was your turn to whine now. immediately, he gave in, getting up to open the bags of food. he got a little too invested in his "scolding" and momentarily forgot that you actually had to eat.

[littlespoonevan]

I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah

hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)

but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️

The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure

Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.

standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum

In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 

“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.

darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.

i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys

“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking

Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades

Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.

when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 

Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)

i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove

She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.

everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys

LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove

“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other

so far from being free by allisonRW96

"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."

don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife

Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)

dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 

The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.

never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger

It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.

Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania

“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas

Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

as lucky as us by hammersmiths

One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

[disappearenceofsomeone]

the small... the itty bitty.. the sad sniffles..

(hi guys!! needed a break to deal with something, but hopefully I can actually try a schedule for posting stuff soon :3 )

uhh I got designs + barely cohesive context right below:

I love these SILLIES!!! don't mind how empty Winnie's page is, I didn't know what to do

decided that giving them school uniforms to match the surrounding this took place in was a ok decision so I did that!!

also here's the rlly confusing context I made in the middle of the night whilst accidentally pulling an all nighter at the same time:

(I have 0 experience in writing anything in general, I was spouting whatever made sense in my head so if you think this is ooc for them, it probably and most likely is lmaoo. sorry in advance to everyone who was curious ehough to read whatever... this is considered..)

anyways, prologue takes place in an elementary school where Winnie just finished his day at school, it didn't go that well but y'know, there's 10 more things to worry Abt then that. He gets to the bus stop, knowing well he was gonna have to stay there for awhile and planned on making himself comfortable. Upon arriving, he hears sad sniffles from across the seats and boom, sad lil meow meow auggie appears!! Very concerned Winnie approaches the kid, proceeds to get a very hot headed response from him as auggie pushes him away (he isn't having any of it today + he was kinda a punk when he was little like damn!!!) Winnie clearly sees that the dude needs ATLEAST *some* company so he just, sits by him awkwardly. Augustine over here doesn't have a clue why he's still not going away but accepts it nonetheless, albeit in a very tsun tsun way I guess. Winnie takes this as a small talk starter and tries to engage with him, to no avail as auggie seems to have a very reserved manner when alone. After a few minutes of trying, he decides to just be straightforward and ask him what's up, to which Augustine replies with a 'none of your business, why do you want to know?' type of response. He just tells him that moping around wasn't gonna do him any good and since they both seem to be going home late anyway, might as well kill time. (on second thought, they sound very adult for 7-12 yr olds, what. I will come back to reread this dw) Augustine now knows Winnie doesn't mean any harm and decides why not, got nothing else to do. He proceeds to tell him regarding how others seem to only want to be around him whenever he acts a certain way (ie, very bubbly, friendly, etc) and thinks about whether or not people actually do like him for himself. It also makes him feel like if people actually knew how he was, not many would stay (like a 'yeah I want people to stay, but I want them to stay for who I actually am' type thing). Winnie tells him that he should be himself, regardless of what anybody else thinks otherwise. Additionally, Winnie thinks that if nobody's willing to stay after seeing the truth, it's their loss honestly, he thinks Augustine should care about people who would actually be there for him, not for who he's trying to be. Augustine is somewhat stunned by this, asking if he's been through this before, to which Winnie remarks with a similar situation happening back in his previous school (Winnie's friends didn't stay in touch and never contacted him ever since he moved). They pretty much notice atp how similar they were and decided to spend to the entire time waiting just chatting, turns out they got along very well (cue scenes of them yelling at each other playing games, cat scratching as they yell something dumb at the other while simultaneously talking about how cute the cats walking around were). Time passes and bam! Winnie's mom finally comes over to pick them up!!

"Hey! I know that lady! She's my mom's neighbour! :O"

"Oh, it's my mom-- How do you know my mom???"

"Uh, duh!! >:/ I just said that she's my mom's neighbour--- she's your mom!?!?"

(Cue them getting inside the car and getting bits about how Augustine and his mom met. Apparently, he and his mom visited to send off some gifts for her, when in actuality, it was to send off some medicine for Winnie, who was sick during this time. Of course they got some gifts but the medicine was important. And the gifts were too.)

As they got closer towards their houses, Winnie was planning to just go back inside the house immediately since he's got no plans going on and assumes that was it. Augustine thinks otherwise, so when they both got out of the car, he immediately blurts out his name and introduces himself. Winnie, realizing this entire time they haven't even said their names towards each other, also introduces himself in response.

They both seem to connect easily and since no one else was willing to, they will instead. With a promise to stay by each other's side no matter what, they both spent their entire childhood together. They were practically two peas in a pod, nobody ever saw them apart, even if they were in a group of people. They stood out by a lot since then, the very loud and obnoxious kid was hanging around with someone who could chill him out in an instant. The two were inseparable

[honeyxbee]

Bad Idea — Ryomen Sukuna

TW: fem!reader, suggestiveness, demon summoning, murder of side-characters, blood, threats of violence

words: 1008

This is a stupid idea.

You let out a small sigh as you turn off the living room lights, joining your friends on the floor of your childhood home. It looks strange with all the furniture pushed up against the walls, but you had to make enough room for all of you to sit in a circle in the middle of the room.

It turns out that attempting to summon a demon is actually a very technical process.

"..I really don't think this is a good idea," you murmur as you join your friends in the candle-lit circle on the floor, hesitantly joining hands with the two closest to you. Your eyes linger on the thick book in the hands of the girl sitting across from you, a strange feeling settling in your chest that you can't quite place.

Discomfort maybe? Or perhaps unease?

You're not quite sure. But apparently, you're the only one who feels it because the rest of your childhood friends are chatting back and forth like normal. The girl sitting in front of you looks up from where she was skimming the pages of the book, giving you her typical easygoing smile. "Oh, c'mon! You gotta stop worrying so much; everything's going to be fine," she reassures with a lazy wave of her hand.

Of course she would say that, you think to yourself. This was her idea in the first place.

Your friend sitting to your left must recognize your thoughts because she laughs, shaking her head. "Don't tell me you're chickening out? Even 12-year-olds do this stuff," she teases, giggling when you just let out a small huff and roll your eyes.

The friend sitting on your other side rolls her eyes, a small, fond smile on her face at your back-and-forth. "It's weird to think that we're actually starting university next week," she murmurs. "..This could be the last night we're all together." Her words make the room go quiet for a moment of contemplation.

"..It won't be. Now enough of all that sentimental bullshit," the girl sitting across from you jokingly breaks the silence as she sets the open book on the floor in front of her. "Are we summoning this demon or not?" The other girls nod in confirmation, joining hands and looking at you expectantly.

After a moment of hesitation, you sigh. "..Fine," you murmur, reluctantly grabbing the hands of the girls beside you. Your friend sitting in front of you smiles victoriously at your agreement, skimming the pages of the book for a last time to ensure that you guys haven't forgotten anything, and then she begins reciting the summoning mantra from the book. As the words fill the empty air, you feel like you're going to vomit, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then she goes silent, and you wait. And wait. And wait.

Nothing.

"..That's it?" your friend to your left finally breaks the silence, the disappointment evident in her voice as she drops her hands in her lap. "That sucks."

The girl sitting in front of you nods, sighing as she rereads the open pages of the book and then closes it. "Yeah. I guess it doesn't work after all. Too bad, It would've been pretty badass if it actually worked."

"Speak for yourself. I would've run out of the house screaming if something actually appeared," your other friend muses, making the rest of you laugh as you turn the lights back on and begin putting the living room back to normal.

When the living room is picked up and all the furniture is back in place, your friends grab the pizza from the kitchen and get comfortable on the couch. "I'm gonna go put on my pajamas, and then we can start our movie marathon," you say as you toss them the TV remote and head to your bedroom to change.

You grab some clothes to toss on, rolling your eyes when you hear a loud thump from the living room. "You better not break anything," you call out. When you're finished, you walk out, furrowing your brows in confusion when you notice just how quiet it is. "..Guys?"

The first thing you notice when you walk into your living room is the overwhelming scent of iron that lingers in the air, making you feel almost nauseated. The second thing is the bodies of your friends, scattered about the room like broken dolls.

And then you see him, casually leaning against the wall, covered in blood. "Ah, it seems that I've missed one," he murmurs offhandedly as he approaches you.

You stumble backward in an attempt to escape, but you collide with his hard chest instead. He grabs your shoulders and turns you around to face him, your breath hitching in panic when your wide eyes meet his. "H-how did you-?" you stammer out, your eyes darting to where he was previously standing in front of you, but he just laughs.

"You're quite the lively human, aren't you?" he muses. "The others couldn't even manage to get a word out...Quite attractive too," he murmurs as he looks you over. You push at his chest, your lips parting to scream for help, but he tsks and quickly moves his hand over your mouth. "Nuh-uh, none of that. If you scream, I'll rip your tongue out," he warns.

Something tells you he's not bluffing. So you clamp your mouth shut, and he pats your cheek in what resembles approval. "Good, you know how to listen. I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer with complete honesty. Understand?"

Your eyes dart over to the corpses of your friends, and you slowly nod your head, making him grin and move his hand away from your mouth. "Good. I was going to kill you like I did the others, but perhaps I'll let you live after all." He takes a small step back, though his eyes linger on your body. "..After all, I'm sure I could find some other use for you."

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Six)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: angst, Hanahaki!AU, filler chapter before next big plot point 👀, Marvel spoilers i guess?? Jihoon sucks when it comes to talking about things, sus Jeonghan, swearing, feelings of self doubt?

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: Just a short little filler chapter for you guys before the next big plot point! A few cute little moments and a lay off the angst for a bit too! Some new characters will drop next chapter, and I can’t wait for you all to read! Thank you all for loving this story as much as I love writing it 🫶🏼

-Tae 💜✨

If you’d like to be tagged, shoot through an ask!

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Y/N: Meet me at the auditorium after you finish class? I’ll be helping the Jeongyeon and the girls with their Vocal project and then we can go to the library.

Jihoon rereads your text for the fifth time as he makes his way towards the auditorium with a sigh, looking up at the sky as the sun tries to peek out from behind the clouds. It’s a Friday afternoon, Ji-ah has just sent him off with a kiss and a smile as she leaves campus to take the train back home to her family as per usual, leaving him alone for the weekend. He winces into direct sunlight with a scowl before trudging inside the large building.

Jihoon blinks at the sound of five distinct voices harmonizing together on the empty stage, and he recognizes that the voices belonged to your five girlfriends, Jeongyeon, Jihyo, Momo, Dahyun and Nayeon. He spots you sitting at the piano at the side of the stage, playing a simple melody as the girls sing into the empty theatre. He is captivated at how well the girls’ voices all blend together.

“Heaven forbid someone whisper ‘he’s part of some scheme’,” Jihyo sings. “Your enemy whispers,”

“So you have to scream!” The girls harmonize, and Jihoon’s eyes widen as you sing alongside them from the piano, still playing flawlessly.

“I know about whispers,” Momo’s voice is soft and delicate.

“I see how you look at my sister...” Your voice is clear as a bell as your voice projects through the room. Jihoon feels like time has stopped as he hears you.

“Don’t!”

“I’m not naive, I have seen women around you,” Dahyun’s voice is deep and angry, singing with emotion, your voice harmonizing behind her. He can’t keep his eyes off you.

“Don’t think I don’t see how they fall for your charms,” Jeongyeon and Jihyo sing together, facing each other and locking eyes.

“All of your charms!” Everyone sings together.

They’re good, Jihoon thinks to himself. Really good.

“I’m erasing myself from the narrative,” the girls all sing in a ladder, overlapping each other with precision.

“Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when you broke her heart,” their harmonies are on point, Jihoon can feel goosebumps rise on his skin.

“You have thrown it all away, stand back and watch it,”

“Burn~”

The harmony echoes through the empty seats, Jihoon now sitting at the end of the front row to listen.

“Just watch it all burn,” he keeps his eyes on you, singing full heartedly as you keep playing the piano without missing a beat. Your eyes are glued to the sheet music in front of you as the rest of the girls stay put in their spot.

Jihoon stays quiet in stunned silence as you, alongside your friends sing the rest of the song together in perfect harmony. He’s shocked at how polished the performance is, you all have clearly put a lot of time and effort into it.

“If you thought you were mine,” it’s almost like the girls were competing with each other for the best belt for the finale, but at the same time their voices overlapping fits the song perfectly.

“Don’t.” The song stops sharply and abruptly.

The girls are all looking expectantly at you, and you turn on the chair to smile at them.

“I think you’re ready.” You beam. “Like seriously, that was the best you’ve all sounded yet.”

“Really?” Momo smiles back at you, taking both of your hands in hers.

“Really!” You nod excitedly.

“I personally think we only sound this good because of you.” Jihyo smirks, hugging around you from behind, your laugh echoing in the room as she plants a kiss on your cheek gratefully.

“Oh hush, you.” You swat her hands playfully as the others laugh with you.

Your laugh is foreign to Jihoon, but he wouldn’t mind hearing it more often, he decides.

“I agree with Ji.” Jeongyeon hums, bumping her hip with yours. “Your voice was just what we needed to make it perfect. It’s a shame that you have to hide behind that big piano though. We need you center stage with those golden pipes.”

“Then who else will play the music, silly?” You snark back, smiling.

“We can easily find a backing track, miss smarty pants.” Dahyun raises her eyebrow as Nayeon points to her with wide eyes.

“She has a point, Bug.”

“And risk the performance fucking up because we trusted a machine?” You cross your arms with a pout. “I’m happy behind the piano, you know that.”

“Excuse me!” Jihyo’s voice now booms towards your soulmate, who was now sitting up, startled at the volume of her voice. “This is a closed practice! Women only!”

“I..”

“Yah! Have some decorum!” You throw a bottle of water at her with a laugh. “It’s just Jihoon. We need to go study for Film Studies.”

You roll your eyes with a grin as all the girls rush to grab you. But you’re faster, jumping off the edge of the stage and leaning beside Jihoon with your backpack in hand.

“No fair! You don’t get to steal her away!” Momo whines and stomps her foot, making you laugh and wave at the girls.

“Unfortunately, he does. Unless you want me to fail and stay behind for a year.” You smirk as they all relent. “Good job today, my loves! Same time next week yeah?” You blow them all kisses as they repeat the gesture back to them. “Sorry, did I take too long?” You ask your soulmate quietly as he trails out of the auditorium behind you.

“Uhh, no.” He finds his voice after a beat of silence, cheeks slightly pink. “Not at all.” Your angelic voice is still ringing in his ears.

“Sorry about them,” You wave your hand back at the building. “They tend to make goodbyes a drawn out affair so I tried to be quick.”

“It’s fine.” He nods, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, walking to the campus library with Jihoon in silence.

Jihoon watches you from the corner of his eye as you walk together, suddenly more withdrawn and quiet. If you were a flower, Jihoon would’ve thought you just wilted right in front of him.

“Do you think people will sit back and think about that?”

“This is exactly what this project is about!” You chirp, pushing the laptop towards him. “Think about it. Tony Stark is obviously a fan favourite, both in the comics and the cinematic universe.” You’re pointing out graphs on the screen. “Everyone was on his side when Civil War came out. I bet you were too.”

“I mean, yeah, I suppose.” Jihoon raises his eyebrow at you.

“Which brings me back to my point.” This is the most animated he’s seen you be towards him, scribbling down on a notebook in front of you both. “Bucky is not to blame for Tony’s parents death. Yes, he is the one who caused their deaths, but he was under the mind control of Hydra. He was not in his right mind to control his own decision making due to the fact he was literally being controlled by these crazy bastards.”

Jihoon opens his mouth to speak.

“I know what you’re about to say,” you counter before he speaks. “You’re going to say ‘but he still did it.’ I mean, he did do it but if I hypnotized you to be a killing machine that you literally couldn’t stop yourself from being said killing machine, would you have the power to stop me? The answer is no. Bucky didn’t deserve the witch-hunt he was faced with, and Steve was completely justified in protecting his best friend. Bucky even felt guilty about it when Tony confronted him.”

“Tony was Steve’s friend too, though.”

“Who he knew for what, five minutes?” You quip back. “If your childhood best friend made a mistake and spent his entire life in agony against his will, tried to defend himself from your new friend of two years, who would you be picking?”

“… you make a point, Choi.” He hums, nodding his head sagely. “Yeah, okay, this is good. This will get them talking.”

“And it’s perfect, because we can discuss both sides!” You smile. “Even though I’m on Bucky’s side.”

Jihoon lets out a chuckle, with a little smile on his face. “I’m happy with that idea if you are?”

“Really?” You sit up straight, blinking owlishly. “You don’t have any ideas?”

“I mean, I had a few ideas but they were all pretty one sided. This idea works well because we can say the views from both sides.”

You blink again before giving Jihoon a little smile. His heart skips a beat involuntarily. “Okay, let’s do that then.”

“I can work on the Stark side and you can work on the Barnes side and we can discuss?” Jihoon pulls out his own pen and paper, starting to jot down a few notes. “We should only do a few ideas now and next week we can meet up to watch the film to draw out some points.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You nod your head quickly as you both get to work, the only sounds between you both being your pens and the occasional clicking of the keyboard of the laptop between you both.

Every so often, Jihoon feels like he can feel your eyes on him, but every time he sneaks a glance, your eyes are firmly on your notebook, diligently writing line after line of dot points on your page. It must be his imagination.

Every few moments, he spots you reaching up and rubbing at a spot on your collarbone like you have an itch, and he feels his curiosity growing but decided to leave it be for the sake of the project.

“I heard you were helping out with auditions..” you trail off softly as you walk by Jihoon’s side, two hours after your study session had begun. The sun is setting in the sky now as you shove your hands in your pockets. You’re standing on the outer side of the sidewalk, feet ghosting over the lip of where the concrete meets the road.

“Sure am.” He drawls, kicking at a rock on the pavement. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” You shake your head quickly. “I was just going to ask how it’s going.” Your eyes stay focussed on your feet. Jihoon spots your neck flushing pink.

“It’s not bad.” He shrugs. “But I don’t know how you can work with some of those actors. Almost all of them can’t sing for shit.”

You let out a cough as you seemingly choke on your own saliva, a laugh escaping your throat. “They’re not that bad, Jihoon-ssi.”

Jihoon feels like it’s so formal when you address him now. There is still the occasional moment you will call him simply Jihoon, but never Oppa. Not since the incident.

“They are bad when you have to hear the same rendition of ‘Mamma Mia! Here I go again. My my, how can I resist you?’ for four hours.” He groans, your amused smile growing on your lips as he speaks. “Why didn’t any of your friends audition? They sound a whole lot better than anyone else who sang.”

At the mention of your friends, you perk up a bit. “Believe me, I’ve tried. But they’re happy in their little show choir. I insisted that they would easily get the main role if they just showed up to audition, but they argued with me every step of the way.” You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “So, I gave up.”

“Hmm, pity.” He hums. “It would’ve been better than who they’re deciding for callbacks.”

You nod along with him, and just as you’re about to respond, Jihoon beats you to the punch.

“You would’ve been good, too.”

Your cheeks immediately flush a deep red, turning your head to look away. “Uhh, thanks.”

“I mean, it isn’t a compliment.” Jihoon retorts. Your shoulders sag. “Well, I mean… it is, I suppose.” He immediately tries to mend things. “But coming from someone who sadly has perfect pitch, you, Jeongyeon and the others were the best singers I’ve heard all month.”

“Thank you, Jihoon-ssi.” You smile softly at your soulmate before flinching and taking a quick step towards him.

You were standing a bit too close to the road as a car sped past you, almost knocking you off your feet if it wasn’t for Jihoon to catch you by the loop of your backpack. He swiftly maneuvers you to walk on the inside of the path, now standing in your original spot without blinking an eye or missing a stride.

“It’s fine.” He acts like nothing happened. “And, if it’s too much for your rehearsal, or whatever.. I’ve been trained in piano since I was in middle school. So, uh… I could play the backing track for you if you wanted to focus on singing with the girls… if you wanted.” It was his turn to turn red as he walked, stammering. He truly didn’t intend on offering this to you, he just let it slip out like word vomit. “I don’t have anything to do after school on Friday’s since Ji-ah usually leaves for her family, so I mean if you guys wanted I could help out.”

He was babbling and probably repeating himself now. Oh god, can you please shut him up.

“Oh..” your eyes are wide as you stare at him. “I mean, I can check with the girls… but are you sure? You really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Jihoon feels it. Your nerves begin to swirl in the pit of your stomach, the doubt and worry running through you as you question everything.

“It’s fine.” He insists. “Really, I love playing the piano anyway so this is just like a holiday for me. Honest.”

“Then, yeah.. sure.” You nod slowly as your walking slows as you reach the block before your house. “I’ll ask the girls and see. Thank you.”

“Sure.” He hums, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

“And… uh… before you leave.” You pause at your front gate. Jihoon stops and turns to face you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Soonie told me to ask you… usually this time of year leading up to Cheol’s birthday, we usually go on a big camping trip. This year we’re going to Busan and Jeonghan has told us to invite anyone who we think would want to go.”

You’re kicking at the invisible dust on the ground. “Soonie knew I was meeting up with you for the project so he told me to ask if you and Ji-ah want to come. It’s in a couple of weeks from now so you don’t have to decide yet, but the offer is there.”

“Oh, that sounds fun.” He nods slowly. “I’m from Busan, so that’d be nice.”

“And you guys wouldn’t have to worry about getting a ride there!” You insist quickly. “Jeonghan is hiring a bus so you guys can just tag along- wait, what did you say?”

“It’d be fun..?” Jihoon repeats himself before you let his words process through your brain. You blink and nod your head quickly.

“Oh, okay. Good.” You step inside the gate. “I’ll get Soonie to text you the details?”

“Sounds good, thanks.” Your soulmate nods again, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Thanks for walking me home, Jihoon-ssi. Have a good night.” You bowed your head before turning around, rushing to the front door of your home.

“Goodnight.” Jihoon mumbles, the door already closed behind you. Once he knows you’re not going to go out again, he turns around and continues his walk home.

“Ladybug? Is that you?” You hear Jeonghan’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“Yeah. It’s just me, Oppa.” You call back, stepping into the room and giving him a quick hug.

“It’s late. Did you walk home on your own?” Seungcheol steps into the room at the sound of your voice, hand on his hip.

“No, I had to study with Jihoon-ssi, remember?” You lean against the counter with a little smile. “He walked me home, it’s on his way.”

“Oh, how chivalrous of him.” He cooed playfully, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh please.” You wave your hand. “He probably only did it because you would’ve murdered him if he didn’t walk me home, or had someone organized to get me.”

“This is true.” Your brother smirks, reaching out and ruffling your hair. You have a small smile on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeonghan, who watched you with a raised brow.

“Hannie-Oppa,” you turn to said man. “Jihoon and Ji-ah are confirmed to be coming to Busan too, Soonie invited them.”

“Ji-ah?” Cheol asks, tilting his head.

“His girlfriend.” You mutter, Jeonghan’s eyebrows raising so high up that he’s surprised they haven’t touched the ceiling.

Girlfriend. Interesting.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@cinnamoroxie @enhacolor @mikachu-chu @jojowantstocry @changbinisms @scarlet789 @i-dont-give-a-fok @im-gemmy @shookyungsoo @ametheyistheart @friendlywraith @kawennote09 @coupddeongie @sunooschubbycheeks @zgzgzh @mar-627 @side-angel @kuleo26 @deltamoon666 @snowgirlfallen @lixiel0ver @phenomenalgirl9 @weebotakuboy @sumzysworld @vixensss @seokmatchu @etaerealboy @milopenne @jinyoungie0922 @chickenscoups @zadkielr

[froggyfics]

Left Behind

Tim works so hard. He works so hard that he neglects important relationships in his life.

again with the angst! Sorry, not sorry.

This is gonna get some of y'all in the feels, but I hope this fic is a reminder to never settle for less than what you deserve. You deserve to be happy!

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Tim Drake x gn!reader

Theme: Angst 

Word Count: 1,746

Being stood up is awkward. It probably wouldn’t be so awkward at some 24-hour raggedy diner, because lots of people eat alone at places like that. But, no one, literally no one, goes to eat alone at a five-star restaurant. Being alone in a place like this automatically makes others assume that you got stood up.

To be fair, your behavior only confirms their suspicions. You fidget constantly, looking around the restaurant for any sign of him. You check your phone countless times. You reread your text messages to see if you got the timing wrong. The waiter passes by…again. There are only so many times they can refill your glass of water before it becomes downright humiliating. 

“Ugh- no,” You groan as you place your hands on your forehead to hide your face. You can feel people at the neighboring tables stare at you. The hair on your arms and neck prickle in embarrassment. How much longer do you wait for him? Enough time has already passed to make you assume that he’s either forgotten or is in some sort of life-or-death situation that makes him incapable of giving you a heads up. If he hasn’t arrived by now, he probably won’t come. 

Defeated, you wave the waiter over and explain the situation. Or a shortened version of it.

“You know what? I was actually supposed to meet someone here, and uh- well, you see-, they, uh- got into an accident, so…”

You left the restaurant that night with an empty belly and abandonment issues. You pull out your phone and begin to type out a text message to Tim.

Guess you’re not coming haha. 

You hit the backspace button on your keyboard. No, don’t say that.

You stupid son of a bit-

Nope, not that either.

You sigh and place your phone back. You’ll text him later that night. 

You recall him sweetly saying just a few days prior, “I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go, my love.” He nuzzled your neck before leaving hot kisses all around your neck, face, and lips. His voice was laced with honey. But after being stood up, you realize his voice was laced with something else: arrogance.

He knew you would become putty in his hands. He knew that you could never stay mad at him for very long. That’s the kind of effect Tim Drake had of you. You could never say no to him. It truly was a terrible cycle. You oftentimes would wonder why you and Tim could never work it out. You’d give him a chance, and he’d eventually shatter your heart. You would become infuriated and hateful. He would apologize so sincerely that you had no choice but to run back into his arms. Then, he’d break his promises again and leave you devastated. You two would break things off again, but eventually, you’d go back to wondering why you two couldn’t just work it out. As if the answer wasn’t right in front of you already. 

What Tim couldn’t fathom was that he was the endgame for you. You wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted the bare minimum from him, because you knew that’s all Tim could give you. And you would be satisfied with that. Except Tim could only give you the bare minimum for so long. Eventually, even the bare minimum would be too much for him. And for some reason, you just took it. Because you loved him. You wanted to settle down with him and have kids with this man.  And you believed that he loved you, too. And love is supposed to overcome any obstacle, right? Right?

You weren’t so sure anymore. There was no denying it, you were getting older. Your family was sending you hints about starting a family of your own. More and more of your friends were getting married or moving in with their significant others or having children. Everyone seemed to be moving forward in their relationships. And yet you struggled to even get Tim to go out on a date with you. 

Was it you? Were you the problem? Were you not understanding enough? Tim had so much on his plate. He was the least likely of the Batboys to have downtime. Bruce and Tim were so alike in that way. They worked themselves to the bone, neglecting anyone who dared to care about them. Like they say: like father, like son. 

You naively thought you could change Tim, at least. And you did! Sort of. Temporarily. Your relationship was very hot and cold. When it was hot, you were an inseparable pair. But when you were cold, it was as if you didn’t even exist to Tim. 

Your contemplation of your relationship continued as you reach your home. You weren’t even mad anymore. You just felt incredible loneliness. What’s a home if you have no one to share it with?

It takes guts to admit that you want to have what everyone else seems to have. To fall in line with the crowd. You want someone to come home to. You want someone to wake up to. You want someone who you’ll fight with. You want someone to make love with. You want someone to make you feel like your relationship actually exists in the real world. 

You pull out your phone once more. What should you say?

Hey, should we reschedule?

No! That doesn’t feel right. It felt inauthentic to brush over the pain you were feeling. You hit backspace and begin again.

Tim, I love you so much, but I can’t keep doing this with you. My heart hurts. My heart’s bleeding for you. I’d die for you, but I’m dying because of you now. Please tell me how to fix things. Please tell me what I can do to make you love me. I love you. I don’t want to continue things like this. I’m begging-

You stop typing. Tears make your cheeks their new home. What is wrong with you?! Where was your self-respect? You love Tim, but where was the love you had for youself? 

You look outside your window. You see the moonlight stream in. You knew that within just a few hours, the moon will be replaced by the sun, and then the process will be repeated the next day, and the day after. You hear birds squawking outside. You know they’ll migrate south during the winter, and then come back north during the summer, and they’ll continue the process for generations. You look at the grass outside. You know it’ll dry up in the winter, and regrow in the spring, and continue that pattern.

What you didn’t know was is Tim would be yours tomorrow. Hell, you weren’t even sure if he was yours tonight. If he was ever yours to begin with. You always wanted to be an adaptable person, always ready for life’s unpredictability. But sometimes, it’s nice to have things to look forward to. It’s nice to be able to live on the safe side. It’s nice to not have to live on the edge, unsure if you going to be loved or discarded that day. 

It’s also nice to put yourself first for once. It’s nice to protect your heart and your sanity, even if it means losing the person you thought you’d grow old with.

The sun comes shining through the one portion that the curtain doesn’t cover and hits Tim’s eyes. He groans, upset that though his eyes are closed, he can feel the heat of the sun. It felt like he slept for two seconds last night. He groggily sat up on his bed, blinking slowly. 

Coffee. His first conscious thought of the morning was about his need for coffee. He worked all through the night trying to crack a particularly difficult case. He felt like his efforts were meaningless though, as he didn’t get any closer to solving it. He lifts his arms above his head and stretcccchhhhesssss. 

Pop! “Ooh, yeah, that felt good,” he says to himself as his back joints pop. He takes a few moments for himself and enjoys his solitude.

He reaches to grab his undisturbed phone. He hasn’t looked at it for almost an entire day. Correction: he didn’t have the time to look at his phone for almost an entire day.

He has so many notifications. Some from friends. Some from family. He’ll read them later. Just as he’s about to put his phone away, he notices the notifications from you. 

Okay, he’ll reply to you, but then he must go back to the Batcave and work. 

He clicks on your name and immediately, dread strikes through him. He sees the several messages you sent him last night about your date.

He smacks his forehead with his palm, as your messages remind him of the date you two were supposed to go on yesterday. He knows he messed up. Again. For the billionth time. 

Hi ❤️ I’m about to reach the restaurant. Can’t wait to see youuuuuu ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I’m sitting at a table that’s towards the back, go left when you enter

Lemme know when you’re close ❤️❤️❤️

Hey, what’s your ETA?

Timmy! Did something come up? Are you coming?

I called, but you didn’t pick up. Please let me know if you’re still coming

Are you coming or not? Everyone’s staring at me

Please pick up

Tim, please don’t do this to me

Once he’s done reading your message, he makes a promise to himself and to you that he’ll make up for it. You’ll understand. After all, this isn’t the first time this has happened. You were angry before, but you got over it. You always do. 

He clicks on your name and calls you. He’s already formulating an apology in his head. He knows just what to say to break down your inhibitions and your reservations about him. Just as he puts the phone to his ear, just as his apology has already made its way from his brain down to the tip of his tongue, just when he hears a ring and he thinks the line connects and that you’ll answer, he hears an automated voice.

“I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

[jeon-ify]

that night- j. yunho : pt. 3

a/n: heyyyy girl did you miss me 😋 i know i know. after i reread the first 2 parts of this fic, im starting to feel like its already going NOWHERE. but!! i hope this part makes up for all the weirdness in the first couple of parts.

this chapter is a little short

warnings: mentions of self harm, mentions of sex (if you squint), drug use, swearing, use of the word ‘pookie’ only once, reader starts to second guess if she’s at fault

enjoy!

🤍🪩☁️

you watch your phone ding twice after you wipe your tears, processing the fact that yunho just walked into your apartment for the first time ever. you felt like none of it was real, that it was simply a blur that he came to your home, cried to you, kissed your forehead and promised he’d change.

yunho often kept his promise, thus leaving a feeling of confusion on your heart. you decide to ignore what your heart is telling you to do, and instead, listening to your brain:

you trusted him once before, and he fucked it up. don’t do that to yourself again, y/n

no matter how hard you try to ignore the messages on your phone from yunho’s support buddy, you can’t. what could mingi want at this hour?

y/n: hi, whats up?

*seen just now*

mingi.?: can i call you? i wanna talk to u ab smth rq

mingi.?: i stole ur number from yun

y/n: sure.?

as you respond to mingi, you wait a few seconds before mingi’s called ID pops up on your phone. the last thing you need right now is to talk about yunho— and if he calls for just that, you’d rather hang up and sit in silence as you literally haven’t even recovered from that entire show that just took place not even an hour ago.

“hello?” he speaks.

“hey, m-ming…mingi?” you try to pronounce his name, thinking you forgot his name, but he’s quick to confirm that you’d pronounced it right.

“yeah you said it right. how are you, y/n? how’s everything going?” you think he’s only starting small talk just to get to the topic of yunho.

“i could be better but for now i’m okay. how are you, mingi? what makes you call me at this hour?”

“if i’m being honest, i was going to ask you how you and yunho were putting up since i know he just got home from your place. he looked pretty fucked up, y/n.” you feel like he’s guilt tripping you, but you also feel like he’s part of the reason you got to see yunho tonight.

“we didn’t really talk much, he explained what happened that night and i know he regrets it— well, i like to believe he regrets it. plus, i really don’t know why it took him so long to reach out to me through san. because if he really wanted to reach out to me, he wouldn’t just send me pathetic ass texts and not have san call me.”

you and mingi both know that yunho’s texts were not pathetic. they— in fact— made your heart sink, and got you to seeing yunho, even though you didn’t want to be reminded of him, those texts are the reason you still saw him.

“i talked to him a couple years ago and we found each other at our lowest. we met at rehab— he was very much into popping pills and inflicting pain onto himself so i decided to help him out since we were going through the same thing. he had no place to stay, he sold his apartment because he owed that fucker san drug money. i took him into my apartment and i helped him build his credit score and save up to get his own place. he ended up buying a house bigger than mine. no matter what he does, he’s never really happy. i’ve known yunho long enough to know that he is not himself. listen, y/n. i’m not trying guilt trip you, but yunho really did love you. a lot of us do things we shouldn’t but that’s not an excuse. people fuck up, and you don’t have to forgive him, but give him the room to change in a way that shows how much he regrets doing that to you. i’m not saying you need to forgive him now or anything, but let your logic do it’s thing. goodnight, y/n. call me if anything changes.”

mingi hangs up the phone, leaving your head empty and full at the same time. so much happened today, and the last thing you needed was mingi unpacking everything to you.

yunho never mentioned that in his texts. since the both of you were together, yunho was too scared to touch a drug— that being part of the reason he never got along with san.

your pink nail polish is laid out on the floor in crumbles as you’ve picked it all off your nails. you think twice or three times over about how yunho was so broken over what he did to you. he’s the victim in his own story.

you are broken, but you didn’t feel like you were allowed to be hurt— though you have every right to be.

while you and yunho were together, you often refused sex when you got back from work, claiming that you were ‘too tired’ or ‘too busy’ to pay yunho any attention. you can’t remember the last date you had with yunho.

your thoughts cloud your brain as you slowly start to feel like you’re part of the reason he’d cheated on you.

“we hadn’t had sex in like 4 months so i started to believe it.”

“they said you don’t deserve someone like me.”

“they said you can’t handle me”

you walk over to your kitchen, grabbing your lighter and heading back to your balcony. as the night sky hugs your home, you start to mentally prepare yourself for the next few months. you’ve cancelled every lash booking you had for the next week and a half, not being in the right headspace for anything.

you pick up your phone, calling wooyoung.

“it’s 3 in the morning go back to sleep.” he groans. you caught him at the wrong time, hearing a female voice in the back moaning and breathing heavy.

“can you come over? i need you here.” you light your cigarette, the smoke clouding the air in front of you.

“i’m on my way.”

in almost 7 minutes, your best friend is sitting right by you, throwing the cigarette off the balcony. he notices how your nose and eyes are puffy from crying, how your gaze is absent. he puts his lazy hand around your shoulders, pulling you to lean on his own.

“i’m guessing it didn’t go well?” he asks, his baggy flannel smells like comfort, making your eyes well up in tears, in appreciation for your best friend.

“i’m sorry, wooyoung. i keep crying to you. i’m just so overwhelmed and so much shit is unfolding tonight, i just wanna run away from everything bro.” you sniffle into his chest, his hand rubbing on the small of your back.

“hey, it’s okay. it’s okay to cry. talk to me when you’re ready. i’m here to listen, babes.” he rubs and shushes you, as you relax against his hands.

“we talked about what happened that night and how it happened. he said he just didn’t feel like i wanted him anymore and because we didn’t have sex in like 4 months he started to believe what sara and maya were saying.”

“what were they saying?”

“they were saying shit like i didn’t deserve someone like him and that i was stupid to believe i could have someone like him. then when he left he kissed my forehead and walked out and that just was the cherry on top.”

“shit, y/n. i’m sorry.” he stops rubbing your back as you sit up facing him. he brings his hand up to wipe your tears and fix your hair.

“what else, babe?”

“then like an hour after he left, mingi texted me and when i saw it he asked to call. then i said yeah and called me and he told me how yunho was coping when we split. he said he got into drugs and started doing self harm and shit, he sold his apartment cus he owed san money for drugs and he had to get into rehab for it all. he told me how yunho regrets everything but i don’t know, woo. what do i do?” you breathe. you don’t wanna keep crying, but it’s all you can do.

“how’d you feel after the talk with yunho?” he questions.

“i don’t know. i just feel like i wanna give him room to change cus i feel like he would. but then again, he cheated once and he literally said he wanted to leave but i was holding him back from doing what he wanted. i feel like a burden on him even when we’re not together anymore. and i don’t wanna have to go through that again.”

“first of all, you’re the victim. i don’t know why mingi is making it seem like you’re to blame. second of all, i’m not gonna tell you what you should do. all i will say, is that you need hella time to figure it out. listen to your brain, y/n. not your heart. your heart will tell you to do things impulsively, it’s why your brain is up here, and your heart is right under it. your brain will lead you to do the most logical thing and what’s best for you. ’ll support you, no matter what choice you make. but please make the right one.” he kisses your temple, bringing you back to lean on him again.

“woo,”

“yes, y/n.”

“i don’t know what the fuck i’d do if i lost you.”

“you interrupted the best fuck of my life, but i forgive you. don’t let it happen again.”

you laugh, following wooyoung’s giggle.

“i love you pookie”

“i love you, y/n. do you want me to stay the night?” he watches the stars twinkle and dance, taking in the feeling of his best friend in need, and him being the only person who could make you feel at ease— something he would never take for granted.

“please.”

wooyoung giggles lightly as the both of you stand up to head to bed, falling asleep much easier than the night before.

—————————————————————————————

hello!! wooyoung is so cute ☹️

taglist: @bbae98 @haohaoshoe @k-hotchoisan @stolasisyourparent @atinytiny @isiloiale @kpophosblog @nakiiko @certifiedmoa @aaniag @yunnieo @chosoteta @xuchiya 🤍

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

Guardian angel

Part two of this

You were running, running like you had never before in your life as you tried to find your way out of the hellish maze you were stuck on.

Trying to frighten off any small critter with the flares, you hated this place, the mazes that were somehow enjoyable to children.

"Uh...angel?" Dogday spoke as you once more went through the same area...for the third time.

"What?" You snapped, you were absolute done with everything, Catnap could go fuck the prototype for all you cared, the small critters could go off and die, you already had a damn good idea of what had happened to your coworkers, it wasn't rocket science.

"I think were lost..." Dogday said tentatively.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," You said sarcastically.

"Oh, i-it's ok, I can help you, the exit is actually really close, we...passed it a few times" Dogday quickly explained in a slightly cheery way.

*Great, he doesnt understand sarcasm* You thought annoyed but wanting to get out of here already you went were he had pointed, and he was right, the exit was right there.

You sighed in relief as you finally got out of that area and quickly began making your way to the exit of playhouse, but as you did you almost tripped over something.

"Angel, are you alright?" Dogday asked worried as you regained your footing.

"Yeah, I just didn't see that...thing" You finally noticed what you had tripped with, the ofending object had been none other than a familiar mug.

*Of all things, that, is still in one piece* You though unhable to no be amused as you looked at the mug with "#1 asshole" written on it*

You couldnt help but reminisense on it...

You walked through the coldly lit corridor, not focusing on any of the other scientists you walked past from time to time, you guessed it was probably morning already from how tired you were feeling, that and the increasing number of scientists coming in to work.

*I really need some coffee...* You thought as you bussied yourself with the clipboard in your hands, reading over some of the results on the new scents that you were asked to develop for some new toy line, something that should have been easy, at least if the creative team were cooperative and not stubborn for holding over a small grudge over you.

"I swear to god, I would have gotten them all fired if I knew they would be so childish," You muttered as you entered the breakroom, making a beeline for the one thing in this world that gave you happiness.

The coffee machine...and it was empty.

*Fuck,* You cursed internally as you begrudgingly began preparing another pot of coffee, looking over at the clock as you poured the water, confirming that it was in fact 6 am, which meant you'd only get your cup of coffee at 6:10.

*If I find whoever didn't refill the coffee pot I'll make them suffer,* You thought bitterly, taking a seat on the lone table of the break room, rereading the tests for the different scents so as to not risk falling asleep before the coffee was done.

When the coffee was finally done you stood up with relief as you went to retrieve you mug, but as you opened the cupboard you found another problem, you're mug was not there, in fact, it was nowhere to be seen, as you began looking for it in the other cupboards you didn't notice as the door to the break room opened.

You only realized you were no longer when you heard the gruff voice of your coworker Harley.

"Morning," He greeted groggily as he walked to the coffee machine and began pouring himself a cup of coffee...in your mug.

*That son of a bitch*

"Harley," You said curtly, glaring at him as he continued to prepare his coffee, pouring an unholy amount of sugar and creamer.

"Yeah?" He asked, still focused on his abomination of a coffee, seemingly unknowing of what he was doing, but you knew Harley, you had known him since college, and this was just him being an asshole like always.

"Why are you using my mug?"

"Oh, I must have grabbed it without noticing during the night, you can use another, I'm sure no one will mind," He said absentmindedly, he just like you would constantly pull all nighters, you were both now in you third all nighter that week.

But he was a good for nothing liar, for some reason every scientist in your floor were very...territorial with their cups, you included, Harley clearly just wanted you to go home so he could brag over staying over more than you that week, it didn't matter that by now none of you actually knew who the original owner of the mug had been, it was a matter of pride...and you had to admit, you did like the mug.

So you weren't about to let him win, so as soon as he returned the coffee pot to the machine you grabbed the pot itself.

"Very well, have a good morning Dr.Saywer," You said politely as if you weren't taking the whole floor's only coffee pot, which would make many of the scientists quite...cranky to say the least, something Harley would have to deal with himself.

You sighed with amusement, you couldn't help but miss those times, back when you didn't have to survive rogue murderous toys.

*I knew making them need to eat would bite us in the end, and it in fact bit them in the ass* You thought to yourself amused as you continued your way to the exit.

Once you left the playhouse you heard a phone ringing just as you got out of the Playhouse, as you answered you heard the voice of Ollie.

"Hey are you alright? No ouchies or lost body parts?"

"I am alright," You answered, trying not to be too annoyed by Ollie's words, he was a child after all, it was expected for him to talk in such a manner.

"I'm really glad you're okay, I don't wanna lose any more friends to this place,"

*What even is a child like him doing here...*

"And-oh, you have Dogday with you, that's amazing, I thought they were all...well, you know,"

"Dead..." Ollie whispered the last word as if he would get scolded for saying it.

"But it's good you found him...or what's left of him," You could feel Dogday slightly shifting his weight on you back, he probably felt a bit uncomfortable, not by Ollie's words but most probably by being in the open after being stuck in that cell for who knows how long.

"Anyways, we're really close to the end,"

"I sent you a new key, you're going to the counselor's office instead,"

"It's not ideal...but it should have enough juice, if you can get that generator going and plug it in, I think we'll be done!"

*Finally, this is really getting tiring,*

"Just keep your eye open for Catnap, I doubt he'll be happy when he find you took Dogday, he was always awfully...territorial over any of the smiling critters, especially Dogday now that he is the last one left,"

*Right...I really love making my life harder than necessary,* You thought, wanting to facepalm, but once more felt Dogday's increasing uneasiness, he was already looking around, probably to watch out for Catnap.

"So keep your eyes open, any shadow and flickering is a hiding place for Catnap,"

"Good luck, talk to you soon,"

At this Ollie hung up and you resumed your walking, before going to retrieve the key to go to the counselors office you'd need to go and leave Dogday with Poppy.

You were walking through the daycare towards the platform lift, were Poppy and KissyMissy should be waiting, you hated to say this but you were growing more than tired over carrying the upper half of Dogday, he had been quiet once you had managed to get out of playhouse, you had to admit you had regretted you choice in rescuing him while trying to escape the playhouse and having to avoid the small smiling critters all while having to carry the not at all light Dogday.

He was so heavy, your back was definitely not happy with you, but he had been more than helpful as he had made himself useful by warning you of any small critter you hadn't seen and he himself swatting some of them away.

But now the adrenaline was running out and his already heavy weight began to grow as you walked.

*I'll need to find another way to move him besides carrying, this won't be viable in the long run...I wonder, was his lower half eaten or just ripped apart...*

"Dogday," You spoke, you hated how loud you sounded in the silent daycare, you felt Dogday startled at you suddenly speaking.

"Yes, angel?" He asked, he sounded tired and nervous, no doubt worrying about something...maybe he was still in shock at your sudden action, it would be fairly understandable.

"Your lower half, was it eaten away or ripped off?" You asked, not beating around the bush.

"Oh...that...Catnap ripped my lower half at the start of everything, I doubt it hasn't been eaten by now," He said, you felt his body shiver at the memory of being ripped.

*It is quite the feat for Dogday to still be alive...Catnap clearly was attached to him in some way, weird, that wasn't meant to happen..but then again, none of this was meant to happen,*

"That is true, although I wonder, did toys wander around the daycare before?" You asked.

"No, this is Catnap's territory, not even the small critters come out of the cave, any toy that wandered in here would meet a swift end at Catnap's hands," Dogday explained.

"I see, and what about Miss Delight, did she come out of the school?" You asked as you finally saw the platform lift come into eyesight.

"I don't think so, I don't think Catnap would let her out much, I don't even know why he kept her alive, he wouldn't tell me much,"

*Even then I doubt his lower body is still intact, perhaps I can use Missdelight's tissue to build him some legs, but I would need access to my laboratory...damn,* You thought it over, you would be capable of making another pair, but the daycare was too far from the lab, unless you found another lab nearby it wouldn't be plausible.

*But then again...Catnap's body is identical, if I can kill him I could use his legs, reattaching their bodies is much simpler than making another pair of legs,* You thought as you finally reached the platform lift and called over for Poppy, the lift slowly descended, as soon as Poppy saw you and you not so little passenger her eyes widened in shock.

"You found Dogday, amazing," She said, sounding surprised yet relieved but then she noticed the state he was in and her eyes filled with pity.

"Oh you poor thing, here, lay him here so you can rest," 

You didn't protest, you let him down and sighed in relief at taking his weight off of you.

"I had no idea you were alive, had I known..." Poppy began as she looked at Dogday.

"You wouldn't have been able to do much, Catnap wouldn't have let you," Dogday explained, sounding just as tired as you felt.

*I doubt she would have been able to do anything, she was stuck in that box afterall,* You thought as you glanced a Kissymissy, she was looking down at you.

Even if her face didn't change from that permanent smile you couldn't help but feel she was studying you...as if she was surprised by your action.

*What am I thinking, I doubt she even understands or cares,* You discarded the thought quickly.

"I'll get going, I still need to get the counselor's office generator going," You informed, already turning to leave.

"W-wait, angel, I'll go with you," Dogday quickly said, trying to move towards you, using his hands, but you could tell it was hard for him, he was definitely still exhausted, not to forget his arms were probably atrophied from lack of use, due to him having been basically crucified in his cell.

"No, you will stay here, it'll be easier and quicker for me, I cannot be carrying you around all the time, you are simply too heavy for me," You explained as a matter of fact.

"I can still accompany you, you don't need to carry me, I can use my hands to move," Dogday tried to protest.

You raised an eyebrow, he had barely managed to move close to you and was clearly already out of energy, you sighed and picked him up to put him back on the platform lift.

"It will be safer for you to stay with Poppy, I'll be back soon," You said as you left and as the lift elevated once more.

You made your way to the stairs to go under the giant statue of the smiling critters to retrieve the key, but you glanced at the statue for a moment.

*I wonder, how did the others die...did Catnap kill them?* You wondered.

*Ollie did say Catnap was territorial over them, maybe he saw them as possessions...maybe other toys killed them...although Catnap could still have killed them, he was attached to Dogday and yet that didn't save him from being mangled and almost eaten by those small critters,*

You had wanted to ask Dogday about it, but even you knew it wouldn't be the best idea to ask, not at the moment at least.

Soon you retrieved the key and made your way to the counselor's office, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you knew would not be an easy challenge.

[dr3am5scape]

I’ve waited for you (Sevika x Female reader)

Hello guys! Finally time to continue back on writing Sevika’s fics. I remember writing a bit of her back in 2022. Guess I didn't had motivation to work on more, BUT HERE I AM! So here you go my fellow lesbians who needed something.

I do miss Sev it's not funny :(

My bad y’all I had to reread cuz I type so fast and had to go back for correction, forgive me😭😭😭

Anyways, please enjoy.💜💜💜

Lovely night in Zaun, the green lights dim throughout the streets. It was pretty silence on the road. You stayed in your wife’s bed, waiting impatiently to see her adorable face again. The room was very quiet and felt so empty as you thought about it. All you could hear only is the air conditioner cooling down the heat from all day and some of the noises from downstairs. That's the only thing you could hear but not the road outside. Could tell it was some people having a good time... but not for you it is. You didn’t want to think about other things, but your wife only and only her. It was now 1am, as you check on the clock on top of the wall above the headboard where your laying at. Suddenly, your heart skip when the keys jingles close to the front door as you heard it opened. Could it be her? “Sevika, love?” You ask yourself. Finally, you waited for hours to see her. You heard the sound of your wife mumbles as she walks in the bedroom quietly and takes off her jacket, hanging it up on her chair not noticing you were up. “Oh! Love, I didn't know you was awake." She jumps a bit. She saw how dark was the room and never knew you was up, til she saw your shadow from the dim light of the window. Sevika turn the light to finally see you look extremely tired. "Why you still up, sweetheart? You’ve been waited for me all night?” Sevika says in concern. She didn't want to be mean to you for staying up too long, so she pulls herself together, coming towards you. She bends down to kiss your forehead, meeting the same height. You were pretty short comparing to hers lol (like me XD) She holds you tightly enjoying the embrace she’s giving to you. “Well, I’m here now.” Then, you reply back. “Sev, I was so worried.” You caress her soft cheek, trailing your finger on her blue scar trying to not start crying. “I’ve waited the whole entire night. I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about you for so long.” You said while leaning on her chest as a tear came down on your cheek. “Oh, my love.” Sevika caress the side of your beloved face, pressing you more. She then places your chin back up to meet her eye. “No need to worried, dear. I was thinking about you too. Now that I’m here, it’s over, love.” You had your anxiety moments thinking something would happened to Sevika if she wasn’t home. All those negative thoughts in your head had to be erased. Luckily, your wife had came to save you. “I was just nervous how long you was out there. I wanted you to come home early-“ Sevika shushes you. “Shhh, love don't worried so much. I’m fine. Everything went well. Were both safe.” She looks down at your beautiful eyes sparkle like diamonds. “You know how much I love you, right?” You sniff your tears and lifts a small smile. “Yeah, I know.” You calmed down for a bit and sighs. “Just wanted to make sure you was safe. That’s all. I can't keep thinking what would ever happened to you if-” Sevika cupped your both cheeks together, admiring how adorable your face were like a baby. “Love, do I have to say it all over again? Y/N, look at me.” She ordered you softly to do what she says and you did. “I was fine at work, I promise. And I came home safely didn't I? Yes I came home safe and sound. Nothing's ever gonna happened towards me...or you. I’m still here and we’ll continue to move on.” Your wife does her best to comfort you. She continues looking at you, which was such an awe moment. She couldn’t bear to look away from that puppy eyes of yours. “Now, can we finally get sleep? I’m exhausted…” Sevika says letting out a yawn. You nod. “Yes, same here.” Sevika lifts you up into her arms and without wasting enough time, she carries you to bed. She let you lay down first before she gets on top and turns her whole body to have her head lied on your upper chest. “Goodnight, love,” says Sevika droozing off to sleep with her work outfit on still. You caress her simple bun, while watching her. You finally felt relief from all the anxiety had in you. Eventually, you closed your eyes and gently fall asleep, not wanting to let her go.

The end.

(Yay! What a cute and heartwarming short story. I hope you enjoyed this a lot with Sevika. If your more into my fanfics, please follow me and I’ll be back writing more cute, romantically stories of our favorite milfs and others hehe). (⁠・���∀⁠・⁠)

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 6

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

My head is pounding when I wake up and survey the empty living room. I assume Nick helped Stella to bed when he got home, leaving me alone on the couch. I rub my face and drag myself to the bathroom. I purge the offending substance and then wash my mouth out thoroughly. When I emerge from the bathroom, I hear a noise in the kitchen so I go to investigate.

“You look as good as Stella. Do not let her drink this much at the wedding.”

I roll my eyes at Nick and plop myself down on one of the stools at the island bench.

“Here,” he hands me a glass of water and a few painkillers. “I’m about to take a few up to Stell. Help yourself to toast or whatever.”

“Thanks.” I down the pills and water before resting my head on my arms on the bench. I hear something vibrating from behind me.

“Oh and here,” Nick holds out my phone. “Stella had it in her bra, someone’s really trying to get a hold of you. There’s like a million texts there.”

I look over at him and take it. “Thanks.” He nods and heads upstairs to their shared room. I unlock my phone and scroll back to the first message.

I'm not sure if you watched I hope you did I guess you're asleep...probably curled up in your fiance's arms... Dude, I think I screwed up I met this amazing girl in New York She didn't recognize me and it was so refreshing She seems genuine, I wanna see where it could go I sent her the link to the show tonight, but I don't think she watched She said she was planning her wedding I'm falling for a girl who's engaged, man I don't know what to do I think she may have just wanted a little fun before the big day She wasn't wearing a ring and she never said until tonight I don't wanna be a side-piece Jar, I want what you and Gen have Anyway, I guess you're already in bed. I'll call you tomorrow, man

As I read through the messages my jaw drops. They’re about me, but they weren’t all meant for me. I know that if he knows he’d be embarrassed, I would be. I’m suddenly glad Stella took my phone last night, I don’t think I could’ve processed it with my drunk mind. While I contemplate what to do, Nick comes back.

“You eat yet?” He asks. I absentmindedly shake my head. “Alright, toast coming right up.”

I watch him in silence for a few minutes before asking. “You’re a guy right?”

“Last I checked…”

“What would you want the girl to do in this situation? So say you were texting someone, let's say Travis, about Stella and how you feel but you accidentally sent those messages to Stella instead because you were drunk?”

“We’re getting married…She could just tell me and we’d laugh it off.”

“But what if this was before when you were in the early stages of dating and getting to know each other?”

“Then…I’d gonna see his mistake anyway. So, I’d want her to just tell me how she felt about what she read. And, sincle I’m sure this isn’t a hypothetical…I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you try to make him feel a little more comfortable about his mistake. With Stella, she’d make it all a big dramatic joke because that’s who she is. But you…Well, just be yourself.”

“Thanks, Nick. I’ll try.”

“You want a lift home after breakfast? I don’t think much more wedding planning’s gonna happen with your hangovers.”

“I can catch the subway, you’ve been up all night too. The walk’ll probably be good for me anyway.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, thanks though. Stella’s really lucky to have you, I hope you know that. But you’re lucky with her too.”

“Believe me, I know.” Nick hands me two pieces of buttered toast and walks away with another plate, presumably for his bride-to-be.

As I eat the toast, I reread Jensen’s messages. Eventually, I decide to reply.

Good morningI did end up watching by the way…with my best friend who is getting married in a few weeksThat is to say, I’m not engaged…I’m just the MOH…But you were amazingAlso, I don’t know who Jar and Gen are, but if they have what Stella and Nick have, then that’s what I want tooP.S. I hope your hangover isn’t as bad as mine. Wine Sucks!

While I wait for a reply, I eat the toast, gather my things and walk to the subway. There’s still no reply when I get back to my apartment. However, the painkillers did kick in, so my head isn’t quite as bad. So, with wedding plans still in my head you decide to spend the rest of my day off finalizing the plans for the bachelorette party. I already know the only time mine, Stella’s and the other bridesmaids’, time-off will line up is New Year's Eve, so the date is set. I also know there’ll be lots of events in the city that night, so it’s perfect. 

I already have the ‘bride-to-be’ sash along with a few other fun props put aside in a box in me cupboard with the maid of honor dress. As I scroll through the list of New Year’s Eve events in the city on my laptop my phone starts to ring. With my focus on a burlesque-themed night club event, I answer without even looking at the ID.

“Hi?”

“Y/N, Hi. Listen, about those messages last night…”

Recognizing the voice on the other end, I forget about the party planning and give him my full attention. “You had a big night and had a few too many with your bandmates, I get it. Trust me, I get it. Stella and I finished a whole bottle of wine last night. Red wine.”

“That’s impressive. So, this Stella? She’s the one getting married…not you?”

“Yeah, yes. I’m her maid of honor, hence the wedding planning. And actually, despite the hangover, I’m still trying to plan the perfect bachelorette party on the busiest night of the year in New York City.”

“So, that’s why you can’t come to Texas? That’s actually a decent excuse.”

“It’s not the only reason…but yes. The next few weeks are gonna be hectic. Wrangling bridezilla, getting everything perfect all while working and making my parents understand why I can’t come home for Christmas this year…”

“You sound busy. I’ll endeavour not to be a distraction then.”

“No, it’s alright. I could use the distraction. Although, I should be honest…based on those texts last night you seem to be interested in something happening between us…what I don’t understand is why?”

“There’s just something about you. You seem genuine, which isn’t something you come across every day. But obviously, I don’t know when I’ll get to see you in person again, so I’m not gonna push it.”

“I do need a date for the wedding…”

“...Y/N…I…”

“I know. I’ll be busy attending to Bridezilla anyway.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe one day, right?”

“Yeah…I just hope you know it’s not because I don’t want to. I’d love to be your date…”

“But the media and paparazzi?”

“Yeah…I won’t do that to you or your friend.”

“I understand.”

“Plus, I don’t think our first date should be at someone’s wedding.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, I’ve got another fight to catch. I’m going back to Austin.”

“Travel safe.”

“Always do. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line goes silent and I collapse down into the couch cushions with a sigh. My mind is only more conflicted now. If he’s willing to take the chance on me, I want to be willing too, but I still can’t see how it can work. In an attempt to distract myself, I dive back into party planning.

By nightfall, I’m happy with the plans for the bachelorette night. I’ve texted the details to the bridesmaids and the bare minimum details to the bride-to-be. Getting the information out early is essential with Christmas just five days away and the party less than a week after that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Darling28

(#Interview1)

Welcome to the first interview of The Dear Writer Project and a massive thank you to the wonderful Darling28 for being so supportive of this whole idea since the beginning!

Darling28 about her writing process, her inspirations, her experiences with writers block and her future plans on writing:

What does your writing process usually look like and is it always kind of the same for every story you’ve written?

Oh interesting question. It's usually the case that ideas come from the simplest things and suddenly a complete plot is in my head within minutes or sometimes even seconds. At least the rough outline. Apart from that, my characters often like to take the plot for themselves and I just watch in amazement at what they let me write. I often suffer as much as the reader when I write because I let it flow out of me and often don't know what to expect. Most of the time, though, I have a specific scene in mind in the beginning, often for the middle of the story, and I can hardly wait until I finally get to the point where I can write it. The end of a story quite often involves a marriage proposal, I realise, even if I don't always intend to, but Louis and Harry in my stories are very stubborn about it.

But other than that, my writing process is pretty simple: get excited about a new idea, start writing immediately, often at a speed that makes my betas despair and end up questioning the whole story until I reread it myself and suddenly love it.

Do you have any sort of structured writing plan before you start writing or do you just write what comes to mind?

I'm absolutely far from structured. I have the problem that my best ideas about what to write next come to me when I'm driving and I have to memorise whole conversations or scenes for the rest of the journey. As soon as I've parked, I write it down as a note. But there's really nothing more than these few notes, no mood board or major characterisations, I just let myself go with the flow. I also think that would take some of the fun out of it for me personally, I love getting to know my characters over the course of the story and I don't want to plan everything in detail beforehand.

You said before that you write a lot, especially after you’ve got a new idea in mind. How much time do you invest in writing in your day to day life?

I actually write every day and usually around 3-4k. I think it takes about 3 hours of my time, but that's really just a rough estimate. I usually write already in the morning at breakfast before I have to go to work and then spread the rest over the afternoon and evening.

Our Souls Intertwined is your longest work at the moment. Was it also the one you wrote the longest on?

Our Souls Intertwined… I wrote this story together with freakingmeout and we took turns writing chapters, each of us wrote one character. Despite the length, I don't think we really needed much time to finish it because the other author is just as fast as I am at writing and often each of us had finished a chapter within a day. It was perhaps a little worrying in hindsight haha.

If it wasn’t Our Souls Intertwined, what work of yours did take you the longest?

Oh wow I think you've got me now and I can't give you an answer off the top of my head.

I'm guessing it might be Calm after the storm because that's my longest story that I wrote on my own. So it makes sense that it probably took me the longest to write.

But when I think about it, it could also be the current one I'm writing that hasn't been published yet. My last few weeks haven't been easy for personal reasons and I haven't had time to write and everything has stalled. I just started writing again a few days ago and am catching up.

She also told me that she sometimes drives her betas crazy with the amount and pace that she writes. On some Sundays she writes all day and sometimes feels a bit empty inside afterwards, she admitted.

What work of yours did come together the fastest?

I would say Men are shit. This story practically wrote itself and I could just let my thoughts, which I put into the story as Louis’, run free and didn't have to think about them any further. It was a great experience and I love this Louis so much!

Do you finish writing the story completely before you start publishing or do you start publishing whenever you finished a chapter?

For my first stories, I posted while I was writing. So I finished a chapter, had it proofread and then published it.

However, my only beta at the time had of course her own life and sometimes couldn't keep up with the speed at which I wanted to update again.

So at some point I started to finish writing and only then published it.

What worked better for you, personally?

Both definitely have their pros and cons. But I really liked publishing in the writing process. You get immediate feedback on what you've written, sometimes even ideas for the rest of the plot from readers' comments.

However, it would have stressed me out a lot, like in my situation the last few weeks where I couldn't write anything and had to make the reader wait for updates.

What inspires you in your day to day life the most?

The story often comes to me really quite by chance, mostly inspired by songs, not so much by the lyrics but by the feelings they convey, what lies between the lines.

Did you ever have a writers block and what helped you out of it / What do you do if you feel unmotivated?

Yes, I've had a writers block for the last few months and I've missed writing so much. But there's no point forcing yourself and for me it was best to wait until it felt right again. Before that, I didn't have anything like that as far as I can remember. Sometimes I just didn't know what to write next and got a bit stuck, but my advice here is: just start writing. Don't think, just do it.

And if I'm just unmotivated then I leave it for the day because I know it'll be definitely easier the next one.

What do you find most stressful/annoying/repetitive in the process of writing a story?

For me it's the hardest thing to end the story because then I'm usually so connected to the characters that it feels like saying goodbye to a dear friend every time and I'm actually really sad.

Oh and one thing that really frustrates me is that my Louis and Harry very often crash the chapter with sex. I love writing smut but sometimes they overdo it (okay it amuses me a bit too).

Darling28 also told me, that one of her favourite phases in writing a story is the getting-to-know-each-other phase. She said that she loves it because that’s when she feels like the characters come to life and the tension between them grows.

Can you tell me something about any future projects you’re working on?

I'm happy to tell you about future projects!

In addition to my many ideas for stories that I haven't started yet, I'm currently writing four open ones. Two with other authors and two of my very own. I hope that I will soon be able to present the readers with something new from me, because for me it is always the best thing to finally be able to share my work with the fandom.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Darling28 more specific questions about her works.

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

It's really difficult to name THE one. But I'll go with the three that come to my mind first, okay?

Calm after the storm, because I love their love in this story and I felt for both of them while writing it. It still touches me today.

Men are shit, because Louis is just chaos but so sweet at the same time. I loved describing his ADHD brain, letting his mind run wild. I wanted to give neurospicy people a story in which they can find themselves and feel understood.

True Colours, because I wrote this story for my friend and beta who wanted me to make Harry really suffer as it's usually Louis in my stories who has to go through everything horrible. I love the development of the two of them in this story. They heal together and I don't think there's anything better.

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who isn’t familiar with your works and why?

I think that would be Paparazzi. That's the most popular one of mine and it contains a bit of everything but it's not as extremely angsty as others that I wrote. A bit of enemies to lovers, gay awakening, smut, fluff - what more could you want?

A lot of your works are based around complicated and complex topics like having a bad relationship with your parents, mental health issues and homelessness and everything that comes along with it. Why do you specifically choose to write about those topics?

I love the drama and the big emotions.

But also because none of our lives are perfect. Everyone has their own struggles and their own traumas and I love picking up on that. It especially touches me when readers find themselves in it, feel understood and heard. I think for some it's some kind of validation. It's wonderful to turn something very sad into something very good. As much as I love the drama, I also love the happy ending.

And of course it's also free therapy in a way. There's always a part of me in most stories.

The Magic Within You is your only story, that doesn’t really have any of those topics (besides of Louis’ tendencies to panic quickly). Why did you want to write something so different to your usual writing style?

The Magic Within You is a pure, cheesy Christmas story that was set up like an advent calendar when I posted it, but I think it can be read very well throughout the year.

I always find Christmas a difficult time of the year myself. Lots of people come together and I'm often overwhelmed. I especially wanted to give people who might feel the same way a cute story, offer some distraction and sweeten the day. I hope I succeeded.

By the way, I love how you mentioned the panicky side of Louis. So adorable.

Is something like an advent calendar planned for this christmas season too or was it a one-time thing for you?

No, I haven't planned another one, but never say never. Maybe I'll suddenly get an idea in October and start writing like crazy.

Actually, a sequel to The Magic Within You was planned for this summer but unfortunately I couldn't do that for personal reasons that I had already mentioned. But I definitely want to publish the sequel next year!

You wrote Our Souls Intertwined and Bring me to life with freakingmeout. How did that go?

Oh it's a totally interesting experience because here too we only had the rough plot, but because everyone wrote their character in alternating chapters it was always exciting for the other to see what would happen in the chapter of the other. Sometimes I sat there shocked or totally amused and had to think about how I was going to live through certain situations with my character. It's definitely anything but boring and you experience it as an author as well as a reader.

When I asked her if it feels like a roleplay kind of thing she actually confirmed that it does sometimes feel like exactly that.

Paparazzi is your most popular work. Why do you think this one in particular got the most attention?

I have absolutely no idea why Paprazzi is the most popular one. I often ask myself that but maybe it's really because it's not such a heavy one? But instead of looking for answers, I prefer to be happy that so many people like it.

Is there a work of yours that you’d like to get the attention that Paparazzi got or just more attention in general?

Oh yes, definitely. In my personal opinion, Holding On To Heartache has far too little attention. I know where it comes from, or rather I suspect that the tag 'suicide attempt' puts a lot of people off, but I still think it's worth reading. You can always expect a happy ending with my stories.

Is there a work of yours that you wouldn’t publish again in hindsight?

I must confess that I have already deleted my very first story. And I know that my betas and friends will kill me if they read this now. Because they kept stopping me every time I had a crisis about this story but I did it nontheless one day. I guess my secret is out now... oops. If you read this, please don't be mad!

But I'm actually thinking about revising it and publishing it again at some point.

Are there any characters in one of your stories that are inspired by people or animals you know in real life?

Yes... Bree in 'Paparazzi' is my friend and beta. But I don't think I realised until the later chapters that I was using her as a role model for this absolutely wonderful character.

For the last part of the interview, I asked Darling28 some personal questions that are more about the fandom and less about her experiences with writing.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a part of it?

I am a Lockdown-Larrie haha. I was watching Tik Tok videos out of sheer boredom like probably so many others and suddenly a video with two guys popped up. It's this one where Harry is sitting on the armchair, Louis is sitting on the armrest while Harry is looking up at Louis, absolutely enamoured. I was just sitting there and I remember thinking: who the hell are these two guys that are so in love?

I read through the comments and searched the web for more informations. After that, my days were filled with watching all the YouTube videos and then making a Twitter account. I was absolutely down the rabbit hole and I don't regret it one day. At first I was in the lane of LHH (I mean, come on, just look at him) but then I listened to Louis music and he got my number 1 and never lost rank again. Also, the song Just hold on saved me, the lockdown was not a good time for my mental health.

Your favourite Louis and Harry Era?

LHH forever. If I had enough money I would bribe him to let them grow long again. Although I'd have to meet him first. My plan isn't finalised yet as you can see but yeah... I think you know now how serious I am, haha.

And Louis... Hedgehog and FITF. I just love when his hair is fluffy.

Your favourite movie H starred in?

My Policeman. Damn, I was broken after watching it but it's so good.

Who’s your favourite writer in the fandom at the moment?

One of my favourite authors is BoosBabycakes. I especially love their a/b/o stories!

And your all-time favourite fic in the fandom?

Oh, that's really difficult. There are too many good ones and I really need to think about it for a moment. But I would like to name a story that is not one of the fandom's always recommended ones.

Okay... I go with this one, it's definitely one of my favourite a/b/o stories, the nesting is so sweetly described and I think I really need to read it again:

You've Got A Higher Power, You're Once In Any Lifetime by BoosBabycakes

What makes you want to stop reading something?

If the story is written in first person or the plot doesn't make sense to me and I question too much in the story. Some stories are also too artificially drawn out for me. I don't like slooooooow burn. My attention span doesn't last that long.

Your favourite song at the moment?

Call me by Neeve, it's a small german indie band but I like them a lot.

Of course nothing beats Louis music, I hope I don't have to mention that, do I?

Do you have a favourite movie or a favourite series at the moment?

No, neither of them. I haven't watched anything for ages. I prefer to spend my free time writing.

What was the most unusual thing that inspired you at some point?

Erm I hope this doesn't come across as weird but Louis' bum and waist. For some of my a/b/o stories and ideas that I still want to write.

What is your favourite season?

Spring, when everything turns green again and starts to blossom.

She also told me, that she has hay fever and that sometimes it’s unbearable for her until autumn but she still loves spring the most, especially after the darker months.

Who would you like to read an interview from?

I don't have a specific author in mind but I'd like it to be someone with a smaller fanbase to draw more attention to them.

I wanted to make it a little tradition for every interview, that every writer gives every of their works a colour and a season. It’s just a fun little thing for the end of the interview I thought would be interesting. Thankfully, Darling28 thought it was a great idea too, so here are the results:

Captured Ink, Hidden Hearts - pink and black, spring.

Bring me to life - darkblue, autumn.

Our Souls Intertwined - dark red, late summer.

True Colours - rainbow, obviously, autumn.

Men are shit - pink and green, summer

The Magic Within You - ice blue and white, winter (on a sunny day)

Tainted Love - brown, winter

Calm after the Storm - purple, early spring

Tank tops and a phone call - red, summer (a very hot day)

Letters - dark green, last summer days

I'm with you - white and grey, autumn

Paparazzi - yellow, summer

Holding On To Heartache - black with golden sprinkles, winter

Paradise is in your own mind (Sequel HOTH) - dark pink, spring

You Sunshine, You Temptress - green, summer

Careless Whisper - dark blue, winter

A huge thank you again to Darling28. Thanks for understanding my vision and being so open and kind. I appreciate it so much.

[boyfhee]

FAIR AND SQUARE › lhs (TEASER!)

SYNOPSIS › one thing about life— it's unpredictable. for example, you made a note to yourself about not associating too much with heeseung for your own peace of mind, letting him stay as the academic rival slash classmate that he is, instead of allowing him to be something more, except one thing leads to another and you find yourself face to face with the said man with your feelings all over the place. a lowkey confession leading to a mere competition, let the game begin.

WORD COUNT › teaser is 0.5k, i'm expecting 10k-15k for the fic

GENRE › academic rivals / friends to lovers, mutual pinning because they're just competitive and oblivious ft in denial

WARNINGS › none here i think

NOTE › me writing another long fic for heeseung but r we surprised? no. im like . 42% into the fic so we hope and pray that i manage to get the whole thing out by the end of next week. send an ask/comment to join the taglist :) oh, and both heeseung and the reader are pursuing for masters in biotechnology ( bioinformatics to be more specific but they're very different ) omg omg also i was rereading this w foreshadow playing and the chorus came in as soon as i reached the end like that's perfect timing yes 👍

“i like you,” and so, he lets his feelings win for once, deciding to let his heart take control instead, closing doors to any room for rational thinking like it never existed. “you said it was about timing, about trying hard enough and having only a few chances, perhaps, just one bullet, and i’m shooting my shot right now. i don’t want to remember you as a closed chapter of my life,” 

your mind goes blank.

heeseung is someone you planned to stay away from for the rest of your university life. him stepping into your life already costs you a lot, namely: dropping in ranks and losing your infamous title. his actions cost you the time you could use to study, which is actually upon you because you can simply ignore him instead of spending hours on thinking about his how's, when's and what's. heeseung was supposed to be the academic rival slash classmate that he is, instead of allowing him to be something more, but beyond rivalry, feelings, etcetera. you knew the way you felt about him, even though you couldn’t be as certain as him, or even to claim you see him the same way he feels about you.

turns out, heeseung has always been sure of certain things in his life. 

“heeseung, i’m—”

“not sure? busy? stressed? i know you have a lot of things going on right now. take your time, study for the finals, finish your papers, sort out your own issues and then come back to me. i’ll be waiting,” it’s like he’s not only good at studying but also at reading minds, because heeseung seems to have guessed a part of exactly what you’ve been thinking. call it timing, jay calls him to get back to practice just a few seconds later— a perfect excuse to leave. “looks like my break is over,” 

you sit speechless, watching him walk away like an opportunity that just walked out of your hand. it feels like a slight defeat, like a test you failed when you could've scored better, if not a full score. it's funny because this wasn't a competition, you weren't rejected, more like you rejected him, but it still feels like he has the upper hand. it's funny and equally annoying because heeseung is supposed to be nothing more than just a nobody, somebody you aren't even supposed to spare two thoughts on, but here you are sitting with the guy with your feelings all over the place. 

“heeseung,” you stand up, your voice making him turn to look at you, both of you ignoring the sight of his teammates standing motionless in their positions, too stunned at your voice reverberating in the almost empty court. “let’s do this: if you manage to stand first in the finals, i’ll date you,”

a lowkey confession leading to a mere competition. his lips morph into a smirk, the ones he'd pass you before tests, an open challenge offered directly to you. “and if i don’t?”

and you mirror the same smirk back at him, you weren't going to back off simply because it's about the person you possibly have a crush on. “i become just a closed chapter of your life,” 

let the game begin.