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outlawinthisworld1117 · 4 months ago

Text

And they were roommates…

☆ pairing: Mingi x (fem)reader

☆ genre: Friends to Lovers. Fluff. A sprinkle of angst. Slow burn? I guess…

☆ summary: KQ was holding the raffle of a lifetime - the opportunity to live with Ateez for an entire year. As someone who isn't particularly a K-pop fan, you were intrigued by the opportunity to travel with free housing. You didn’t think that you would actually end up winning… nor that you’d end up getting close to a certain member.

☆ warnings: toxic bf (not Mingi), some cursing, nsfw? suggestive material, mentions of cheating (again, not Mingi), some poorly written angst, there could be more but I don’t think so??

☆ word count: 14.5k (I went a bit insane for my first fic. I could probably cut it down, but I’m not gonna :P)

☆ authors note: This is heavily based on a scenario I had in my notes app for months. Mingi is my Ult! and I’m a hopeless romantic, which was a huge inspiration for this story. This work is fiction and purely self-indulgent (really as all fanfics should be), it doesn’t reflect any of the members personally. Also, I know that Mingi isn’t afraid of heights and actually enjoys rollercoasters, but for the sake of my 20th Century Girl reference… I had to make him the ultimate scaredy cat. Also, Yn is supposed to be the nickname version of Y/N… Enjoy!

Eight pairs of eyes are locked onto you as you awkwardly smiled back at them, waving ever so slightly. Eight of the most stunning men you’ve ever encountered stood before you, and one of them had particularly captivated your attention. His intense gaze, defined nose, and grown-out bleached hair pulled you in, igniting a spark of something new within you. His stare burned into your very soul, making you break your gaze and scream internally, overwhelmed by self-consciousness, Jesus H. Christ… how did I end up here???

—Two Weeks Prior—

(translator mode on :3, Hinata is Japanese)

Hinata: -Yn, look at this-

You catch sight of the notification glowing on your phone, and curiously you click the link your friend sent you.

-Win a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live with ATEEZ for an ENTIRE YEAR!!! Simply sign up through email, and you could be our lucky winner! If you’re chosen, you’ll receive free housing, travel expenses covered, an incredible job working alongside ATEEZ, and the opportunity to become friends with the group!-

You scoff, wondering, What is this? It seems like a scam. Your phone pings once more, a new message from your friend lighting up the screen.

Hinata: -I thought it was fake at first, but look!!! The raffle is posted on the official Instagram!! *screenshotted post*-

You: -Hina…you are the K-pop fan, what are you telling me for?-

Hinata: -You have been nonstop talking about wanting to travel somewhere you have never been before. Why not take the chance? Just sign up for the raffle. What harm could it do?-

You: -I don’t know, but it’s not very likely I’ll win anyway.-

Hinata: -So? It’s not likely you’ll get struck by lightning either, but we both know that it is still possible. Just do it!-

You: -Fine. Though you have to promise me that you won’t be mad at me if I win. I know how much you love those guys.-

Hinata: -Trust me, I will not be mad. I applied and if I win I’m giving it to you. I love them, but I will not be able to function if I am around them. Ironically, my biggest fear is meeting Ateez lol :3-

-Plus, you know how to speak Korean pretty well because of school, whereas I can hardly speak the only language I do know…</3-

Smiling at your friend’s text, you opened up the website for the raffle on your phone and signed up, thinking with a hint of sarcasm, I’m probably more likely to get struck by lightning… may the odds forever be in my favor, right? Little did you know that just a week later, you’d receive an ear-piercing call from Hinata, her voice bursting with excitement as she screamed that you won the raffle.

The next week was a complete blur for you. Phone calls with KQ executives, packing bags, and getting on a plane bound for Seoul, South Korea. Your head felt so strange as if you were wearing a large fishbowl; everything you heard echoed, yet at the same time was also muffled. Your knuckles were nearly white from the grip you had on your carry-on’s handle. The rhythmic pounding in your chest was so fast you feared your heart might leap out. You sat down in your cozy window seat and took deep, calming breaths. You reminded yourself that change was a gift, and this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Hinata was beyond excited for you, so why shouldn’t you feel the same for yourself? Finally, a chance to embark on your long-held dream of traveling abroad, and luckily for you, you already had a very solid grasp on the language… it’s almost like it was fate. You shook your head, Fate? Please, since when do you believe in such silly things. You closed your eyes as the plane took off, willing yourself to sleep for the duration of the flight.

—Present Day/End of Spring—

The eight men in front of you began to speak, starting from left to right, introducing themselves one at a time. The eldest, had long, dark hair framing his face, a comforting smile, and eyes full of curiosity. His name, Park Seonghwa. The way he carried himself instilled an overwhelming sense of safety within you, and you just felt in your bones you would get along well.

The next man in line was much shorter. Actually, out of all of them you noted, he was the shortest, only taller than you by an inch. His exterior had a look of calm composure, but you could sense chaos within when you made eye contact with him— Kim Hongjoong, he was the Captain of the ship. Despite the intense energy he gave off though, you didn’t find his chaotic nature intimidating. Instead, you could tell that you were both quite similar but weren’t sure whether or not that was a good thing.

Moving on to the man with fluffy brown hair that towered above the rest, his smile was radiant and slightly crooked, which you found very endearing. He waved his large hand at you as he said his name, Jeong Yunho. He had a familiar aura, like a home away from home, so you hoped you would be like family.

Shifting over to the shy man in line, who gave off the energy of a Doberman, but looked like a Maltese. He politely introduced himself— Kang Yeosang. His smile was so warm, it made all your anxieties melt away and suddenly you knew that this raffle was a good change for you. He looked over to the man standing next to him and your gaze followed to the sturdy mountain with dimples. His broad chest and confident posture made him seem scary, but as soon as he spoke his true nature was revealed as the very sweet, Choi San. His upbeat and comic personality had you feeling excited to be his friend. As if a magnet was pulling you towards him, you looked over to the next man in line and felt your face flush a bit.

Song Mingi was his name. His face had such a look of careful observation, disguised as cold indifference. If you hadn’t known any better you would have felt hurt by the look on his face, but something pulled at your heart and you could just feel that he was the most goofy, caring, and kind soul you would ever meet. Fate? I don’t believe in such things… So you brushed off his current expression and begrudgingly moved on to the others in the line.

Next was Jung Wooyoung. He seemed like the polar opposite of Hongjoong, presenting a chaotic exterior, concealing a polite and calm soul that shone brightly through the cracks. You sensed he might be a bit of a handful and would take some adjusting to, but deep down, you could also feel that, once you got to know him, he would prove to be one of the most treasured friends to have by your side. You smiled warmly at him before shifting your gaze to the last, but certainly not the least, man in the group. The moment your eyes fell upon him, memories of the big teddy bear in your room back home flooded your mind. He possessed the most fascinating eyes, somehow managing to be both intensely intimidating and incredibly comforting all at once.

With the final introduction behind you, you realized it was now your turn to speak. You swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, striving to recall all the Korean language lessons you had diligently attended in college.

(translator mode on :3)

“Hello, I’m Y/N and I’m very excited and grateful for the opportunity to live here with you guys. It is so nice to meet you all and I can already feel like we will get along well. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, and I hope that this coming year will be one full of great memories!” You bowed your head quickly and straightened out with a nervous, but excited, smile. The group gazed at you with surprise painted on their faces, though Mingi couldn't help but let a sly smirk dance at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes sparkled with amusement. With all formal introductions fully out of the way, the remaining KQ staff slowly departed from the house, leaving just you and the boys in the living room; the atmosphere was thick with newcomer jitters.

“Aigo! Your Korean is quite good,” Hongjoong praised. He motioned toward the couch for you to sit while the other guys situated themselves in various sitting places around the room. You took note of where Mingi chose to sit, which was on the floor, next to your spot on the couch. Leaning back and propping himself up with his arms, he just focused on you. You shifted a bit in your spot and tried to pry your eyes away from him and onto Hongjoong.

Dismissively you waved your hands, “Ah, it’s not really. I only took a few years of classes during university, but I haven’t gotten to use it much since then, so I am a bit rusty.”

“Nonsense! We understood you perfectly,” Seonghwa smiled.

“Well, either way, I get to practice the language now and I’m very excited to see how much I improve over the next several months,” You buzzed.

“Just talk to Wooyoung, you’ll get plenty of practice in,” San chuckled, casting a playful glance at his best friend.

“Hardy har, I don’t talk that much,” Wooyoung responded, his eyes sending dull daggers toward San.

“Wellll… you kind of do. But we all still love you!” Yeosang chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, Yeo,” Jongho scoffed. Wooyoung lightly pushed the bear of a man, and Jongho pushed back a bit harder. Wooyoung wobbled on his chair trying not to fall over as he regained his balance. You giggled at the comfortable banter amongst the boys.

You looked over at Mingi to see his reaction, but you found that he had been looking at you the whole time. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes bore into you, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“So who’s your bias?” He questioned. The other men moved their attention from Wooyoung and Jongho, onto Mingi, and then to you.

“My what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Bias? You know, which one of us is your favorite?” He also furrowed his brows, wondering what was with the confusion.

“Who’s my favorite…?” You paused, absorbing the strange requested information from the tall man.

“Yeah… Typically Atiny’s have a favorite member,” He grinned at you, thinking that you were playing a game. Changing his sitting position he rubbed his nose and sniffed, moving to cross his arms smugly adding, “I’m kind of a crowd favorite.” His tongue poked at his cheek mischievously. The others just looked at him with blank stares and shook their heads slightly.

“Are you now?” You teased, looking him up and down. You didn’t doubt for a second that what he said was the truth, he was gorgeous and charismatic, but you and the other guys wouldn’t give him the satisfaction by agreeing with him.

“I’m sure I’ll be your favorite in no time,” He smirked at you and winked. You forced the blush creeping up on your face to go away.

“Well, I’m not really one to play favorites, Mingi,” You teased, feeling comfortable enough with him already to do so, “Plus I don’t know you guys at all, so even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to answer you right now,” You lightly laughed, crossing your arms, and shaking your head at the bleach blond man.

Your response had all eight of them looking at you strangely, and you wondered what you said that made them react that way. Yunho decided to speak for the group, “You don’t… know us?”

Oh… right, they were probably expecting a fan to live with them, you thought before answering, “Not really… I mean I know who you guys are. I don’t live under a rock, my best friend is a huge fan of ATEEZ. Personally, though, I don’t really listen to K-pop much, so aside from what my friend tells me… I know almost nothing. I didn’t even know your names until you guys said them.”

They all raised their eyebrows as far as they could go, mouths nearly agape. It took a second for them to process what they just heard. Mingi however was just curiously eyeing you, a grin still plastered on his face, as he breathily laughed.

“How ironic that out of the hundreds of thousands of Atiny’s that entered the raffle, the person who won isn’t even a fan of ours,” Wooyoung chuckled, which created a chain reaction amongst the boys, who all started laughing.

Thankfully, they didn’t appear to be upset by your lack of fandom, and there was something about Mingi’s reaction that had you thinking he was actually a bit relieved. You couldn’t help but nervously laugh along with them for a moment, as the sheer absurdity of the whole situation finally hit you, “I guess it’s probably a bit disappointing that I don’t know you guys, huh?”

As the boys calmed down, Mingi took the opportunity to answer, “Disappointing? I wouldn’t say that at all. I don’t know about the other guys, but personally, I much prefer that it turned out like this.” He looked at you with wonder, making you feel like the only person in the room. His eyes are so pretty…you snapped out of it when Hongjoong spoke, “I’m curious though, if you aren’t a fan of us, then why did you apply to the raffle?”

“I wanted to travel to someplace new, and it seemed like a really interesting opportunity. A place to live and a job included? It’s not exactly something I would want to pass up. My friend knows me well I guess, which is why she encouraged me to apply,” You stated simply and the boys nodded in approval at your answer.

“That’s a good friend you have,” San approved.

“Yeah, Hinata, she’s great. Actually, she lives in Japan, so this is the closest I’ve ever been to her, which is kind of nice,” You smiled at the realization, “Maybe I’ll take the chance to visit her next year before I have to go.”

The eight men around you had only known you for a short amount of time, but the mention of you leaving them already had them feeling pangs of sadness in their chests. Mingi just looked at you with a straight face, but his eyes— oh his eyes… he’s like a puppy— tell you everything he was feeling.

“So you speak English, Korean, and Japanese… it’s almost like you’re an idol,” Hongjoong pointed out, trying to shift the mood of his group, laughing weakly at his own joke.

“Ha! I’d make a pretty shabby idol,” You chuckled, a shiver running down your spine at the idea of performing, “I don’t do well when it comes to stages or crowds. If only I didn’t have stage fright though because I do like singing and dancing, and I’m not too bad at rapping either…”

“Plus you’re gorgeous,” Wooyoung added, making you feel bashful.

“Looks like we’ve got an ace in the group,” Mingi smirked in the most sinful way as he continued to stare at you. God, those lips of his…

Hongjoong nearly shouted, preventing your mind from going somewhere it shouldn’t, “Oh! Before I forget, we should go over the rules that have been put in place for the coming year.” He got up and grabbed a piece of paper on the kitchen counter before returning to his spot on the couch.

“Rules? Don’t we have enough already because of Hwa?” Mingi sighed. Seonghwa gave him a poisonous side glare, which made Mingi airily laugh.

“There’s only a couple of them. The managers thought it would be a good idea to have them,” Hongjoong said to prevent any arguments.

“So what are they?” You asked, wondering what could be so important that rules had to be put in place.

Hongjoong cleared his throat before he read off the page, “First rule: no unapproved content of the group or Y/N, whether it be pictures or videos, can be posted online.”

“I don’t even use social media, so that’s the easiest rule I’ve ever had to follow,” You chirped.

“Not even TikTok?!” Wooyoung blurted, shocked at what you admitted.

“Especially not that one,” You shook your head, thinking about the days you wasted away on that app in the past. Sure, you had an Instagram account to keep up with Hinata and your friends from back home, but that was it. You never posted on there anyway.

“Glad I won’t have to worry about you then, Y/N. The rule applies to all of us though… so please-” Hongjoong paused to look sternly at San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung, “-just don’t post anything with her okay? There will be a group picture uploaded to ateez_official to show our winner and that’ll be it for now.”

The three boys just gave sheepish grins and looked at the ground. You giggled, loving more and more the dynamic they all had with each other.

“Okay, final rule, and the managers have it in bold so I assume it’s the most important,” Hongjoong read it inaudibly to himself first, eyes going wide, he coughed a bit before sharing it with the room, “uh- um… it just says You aren’t allowed to date her, so don’t even think about it…”

If you were drinking something you would’ve spit it out. You choked on nothing and started laughing, “Seems like another easy rule… as if that would happen.”

Each of the boys had different reactions though. Hongjoong and Seonghwa kept serious faces, thinking that your response was valid but they knew that the rule was actually very necessary. San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang giggled a bit at it and your subsequent reaction, but they too understood how essential the rule was. Yunho and Jongho just looked at Mingi because they already knew that rule would be needed. Mingi looked like a kicked puppy, and your reaction made him feel even worse.

“Ha yeah… easy rule,” Jongho doubted, feeling that having the rule in place might end up causing more trouble than not having it, “Y/N, you will be living with eight guys around the same age as you. It’s more likely than you think…”

You calm down from your laughter, realizing that you were the only one not taking it seriously, “Oh… um— it’s not that I think it’s unlikely. It’s just that it won’t be a problem. Trust me.”

“The managers didn’t seem to think so,” Seonghwa frowned, giving you a worried look.

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. Since we will all be living together and spending lots of time around you, one of us may end up developing feelings for you,” Yunho clarified, already glaring at Mingi. You suddenly felt very hot in your seat as eight pairs of eyes stared at you once again.

“Oh…” You addressed calmly, “Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news to whoever that could be, but I’m already in a relationship. So when I said to trust me, that it wouldn’t be a problem, I meant it.”

That’s right, you already have a boyfriend, Yn!! Sure… we’ve technically only been dating for a month and it’s not like we love each other. I was going to end things with him before leaving… I mean for crying out loud your love language is quality time! But I do like him though…and he wanted to try long-distance, sooo why not give it a chance. Right???, You internally screamed, kicking yourself ever since you arrived. You were a loyal person above all else and cheating was something you would never ever do. So they really did have nothing to worry about.

The group of boys had a look of relief on their faces, especially Hongjoong, who was glad that there was a solid reason for the rule to be followed. Mingi, however, had a blank expression on his face, trying his best to hide that he felt like he’d been shot by your words.

“Fantastic…” Hongjoong started, “… well then… shall we show you to your room?”

—Beginning of Summer—

The first month of living with them was truly an experience. Hongjoong and San had the best English, so you turned to them whenever the language felt overwhelming, though before you knew it, you were chatting comfortably with each of them. It felt wonderful to form such genuine friendships with them all. Hongjoong loved to share clothes and always showered you with compliments about your unique style. Ever since he discovered your birthday was the day before his, he affectionately started calling you “twin.” When Seonghwa caught you playing Animal Crossing on your Switch, he insisted you add him as a friend, and now you both trade items and play events together.

Typically, when you hung out with San and Wooyoung, you found yourself either acting as a moderator or third wheel, but you didn’t mind one bit because they were always so sweet and made you laugh wholeheartedly; And whenever you craved some peace, you’d seek out Yeosang. His calm demeanor always put you at ease, and when he finally opened up, you discovered his hidden sense of humor, leading to a treasure trove of inside jokes between the two of you about the others.

On the days when you deeply missed your family, spending time with Yunho was a comforting relief. He reminded you so much of your brother and always welcomed you to join him in video games, making everything feel just a little bit more like home. Jongho was happy to have you around since you were the youngest person in the house; only by a year, but to him it meant he could say, “I’m not the maknae, Yn is.”

You once thought that living with a bunch of boys would be a challenge, and while there were moments that tested your patience, they became the most incredible roommates you could have ever hoped for. Thanks to Seonghwa, the house always sparkled with cleanliness, and you never found yourself confronted by those gross odors typical of boys back in the States. To your relief, they weren’t overly rowdy either, which was essential since you cherished the peace and quiet. They would only unleash their loudness on game nights, revealing their fiercely competitive spirits.

Playing games with them was a unique experience; there were times when you knew winning was a distant dream, and others when you felt a glimmer of hope. As you got to understand each of them better, devising strategies became easier. Jongho shared that same competitive fire, and when the two of you teamed up, you were a force to be reckoned with. However, it wasn’t long before the others grew a bit weary of your winning streak, and soon enough, everyone was reassigned to new game night partners. You pulled his name out of the bowl, which is how you ended up with Mingi. When the boys found out that your MBTI was INTP they called you and him the “two Ts in a pod”, thankfully though it didn’t catch on.

After the first week, your initial infatuation with Mingi wore off. So now you were able to enjoy having him as a friend. He was always around you when he could be. Watching movies with you in the living room, helping out in the kitchen as you made food, sitting on your bed when you folded your laundry, playing video games with you and Yunho, teaching you choreography at the studio, walking around with you whenever you decided to get some fresh air, doing his lives with you in the room— behind the screen though, as to not break the first rule, whatever you were doing he was there with you. You liked having him around; and now that it’d been a month of living with him, you considered him to be your best friend, and you were his— well… except when Yunho was around. He would get pouty and Mingi would have to reassure him, “She’s my best girl friend, Yun. You are my soulmate.”

“You mean it?” Yunho would sulk until Mingi would hug him.

“Soulmates since 9th grade,” Mingi reassured him, putting their foreheads together to do their little spin, giving you a wink as he faced you.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had been doing pretty well too. He was putting in a lot of effort to keep in touch with you, which was not something you were expecting but still appreciated. He would call you several times a week when the time difference allowed for it. You noticed every time you picked up his call Mingi would give you a look before he left the room. It was always the same look, and you could never tell what it meant because he somehow looked sad, annoyed, and unbothered all at the same time. Those brown puppy eyes of his made you feel uneasy as he closed the door behind him. It feels like guilt…why? Your calls with him were usually short, and afterward, you would go find Mingi and sit in a comfortable silence until one of you spoke. It was a strange routine you had and you still hadn’t quite figured out why you two had it in the first place.

“How’s the boyfriend?” Mingi asked, breaking you out of your head before you could go down a thought spiral. He’d never asked that question before.

“He’s good, about to go to sleep…” You looked into his eyes searching for any clues to fulfill your curiosity. You kept eye contact for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. His boba eyes searched yours, secretly hoping you could hear his internal struggle; wanting you to understand how he felt while also hoping you’d never find out. He looked away and put on a sly smile.

“Good, I get you to myself then,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, glad to have your familiar banter back.

“You’ve always got me to yourself,” You shook your head, “I hardly get any time with him so it’s nice to have the phone calls.”

He just nodded and snarkily protested, “Yeah but you love me, not him.”

“I…” unsure of how to react to that you looked at the floor and thought, I should be offended that he said that, but I’m not. Your face actually felt kind of hot because of his words and you took a second to brush the feeling off before responding, “Of course I love you, Min. It’s different with him though. I may not be in love with him, but I really do care for him.”

He turned and smiled at you, reaching out to ruffle your hair up. You playfully swatted his arm away and smoothed your hair back down. He just sighed, “He better know how lucky he is to have you then.”

Yawning, he stretched and rested his hands atop his head, which lifted his shirt up a bit exposing a small area of his naval. It caught your eye and you found yourself staring, your face felt hot again. He looked over at you and smirked, “You hungry?”

“Wha—h-huh?” You looked away quickly, meeting his gaze as he lowered his hands back down, a small tint of blush was visible on your face.

“I’m hungry. Do you want to come eat with me?” He rephrased, giving you a knowing look.

“Sure,” you smiled sheepishly, trying to will away the butterflies you were feeling.

—Middle of Summer—

Your job certainly kept you busy, and you were feeling the rush of it all. It had been a few weeks since you started; KQ had graciously allowed you to settle into the house before handing it over to you.

“What’s your dream job?” Hongjoong queried. You thought about it for a moment. Having a job was never something you dreamed of, but you liked having something to keep you occupied, and of course, having money was always nice. Going to college meant you got to be independent for a while, so you did it for the sake of the experience. You majored in art and design since it had always been a passion of yours, but after graduating you weren’t too sure that you wanted to make it a career. It was always more of a hobby anyway.

“Hmmm, I guess I don’t have one,” Your face looked contemplative, but not sad. You were okay with this aspect of yourself, “My dream has always been to travel, so maybe if my job lets me do that then I’d be happy.”

Hongjoong nodded, thinking over your response and then smiled, “Lucky for you then that your job with us will have plenty of that.”

You perked up, “My job?” That’s right, that was part of the raffle. I almost forgot, “What will I be doing?”

After weeks of traveling to multiple places alongside them on tour, you were finally back home, even if just for a little while. That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in the middle of the empty studio late at night, staring at your reflection in the large mirror. Ateez’s newest assistant manager… has a nice ring to it I guess. You’re basically a glorified nanny— picking up food for the boys while they were practicing, running errands, and ensuring they didn’t overwork themselves. But, honestly, you didn’t mind at all; you had already been doing these things for them before anyway. It just meant you got to spend all day with them and get paid for it, which made you happy. The work wasn’t hard, and the salary was generous— far more than you ever earned at any of your jobs in the US. As you laid down on the floor and gazed up at the ceiling, you reflected on the long day you had. Watching the boys pour their hearts into perfecting their art deepened your admiration for them tenfold. You stretched out on the floor and yawned. I probably should head back to the house, I’m sure they’re all wondering where I’ve been. As you sat back up you heard a light knock at the open door. Mingi walked in and sat next to you, nudging your shoulder with his.

“You good?” He smiled warmly, giving you a much-needed energy boost. You smiled back at him and nodded, looking at his eyes— those eyes, gosh I never get tired of looking at them, full of so much emotion. He always looked at you with such care and it made your stomach flutter.

“Aigo, what time is it?” You opened your phone to check and noticed a missed call from your boyfriend, “Shit…”

Mingi’s eyebrows raised, “Where’d you learn to talk like—” He stopped as he saw the notification, taking a sharp inhale, and furrowing his eyebrows. You tried calling him back but it just went to voicemail.

“Shit. He’s probably upset that I didn’t pick up,” You put your phone down and flopped back onto the floor, looking at the ceiling once again.

Mingi had never seen you upset like this before and he hated it. Hated that he was the cause of it. He laid down next to you, your arms brushed up against each other, and he looked over at you, “Maybe he’s just asleep… I’m sure he’s not mad about one missed phone call.”

You could feel your eyes getting misty and you tried to blink away tears before they could form, “It’s not just one missed phone call. He’s been a lot busier lately and with my new job, our schedules just don’t line up anymore… I— I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. I just don’t know what I’m doing with him anymore, Min. I’ve been with him for over three months… I thought by now that my feelings for him would have grown stronger, but they haven’t. Maybe I should’ve ended things with him like I had planned before coming here…”

Mingi thought hearing you say something like that would’ve made him feel ecstatic but it didn’t. He looked over at you and saw a single tear break free, rolling down your cheek. He thumbed it away and grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on it. You covered your eyes with your other arm trying to hide as you started to softly cry. Mingi could feel tears threatening to bubble up to his eyes, but he forced them away trying to focus on consoling you. He continued to rub circles on your hand, slowly as you calmed down until the tears stopped. Your face felt hot and your eyes puffy. Using his free hand, Mingi slowly caressed the tear stains on your face. It made you understand just how much he cared for you, whether it be as a friend or as more, you didn’t care. What you truly cared about was the realization that you had devoted more time and affection to him, your best friend, than to your own boyfriend— you felt immensely guilty like you had been emotionally cheating. You know what you have to do, Yn. You turned to look at Mingi, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his gaze offering you comfort.

“Thank you,” You whispered to him.

“For what?” He whispered back.

“For always making me feel better, for always being here,” You comfortably sighed.

“I’ll always be there for you, Yn. Always,” A stray tear started to roll down his cheek and you wiped it away, carefully caressing his face with your thumb. He closed his eyes and melted into your touch. You waited a bit to enjoy the moment before you spoke.

“I have to break up with him… don’t I?” You whispered so quietly that he almost didn’t hear you. His eyes opened when your words registered with him, making his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat before answering, “Is that what your heart is telling you?”

You thought about it and nodded slowly. Your heart wasn’t telling you he was the one, and maybe you always knew it would end up this way. You knew with full certainty though that you’d be fine, as long as you had Mingi by your side.

It took a few days, but you were finally able to call him. You expected that he wouldn’t take the news well, but what you didn’t expect was him yelling that you didn’t even try, nor did you ever care for him. The phone call ended with your face once again tear-stained, shocked at his reaction, left wondering if you really knew who he was in the first place.

As you opened the door to your room, Mingi was waiting, leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed and his face looked angry, you assumed that he could hear your boyfriend— no, ex-boyfriend— yelling at you. You were tired and didn’t want to deal with trying to talk him down, but as soon as he saw your face, his angry expression dropped, and he pulled you into a deep hug. His chin rested on your head, hot tears finding their way to the corners of his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, his warm embrace being everything you needed in that moment. The other boys had heard the yelling too and were huddled at the end of the hall, feeling a range of emotions, but most of all aching that they couldn’t do anything to help you right now. They each went back to their rooms, letting Mingi do what he did best. Love.

After what seemed like hours, he graciously guided you to your room, helped you prepare for bed, and laid down beside you. That night, you found solace in his embrace, holding onto him tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks until you finally drifted off to sleep, comforted by his tender strokes through your hair.

—Last Day of Summer—

It’d been four months since you moved in and three short weeks since the breakup. The morning after, you had woken up to find yourself in bed alone, assuming that Mingi must have gone to his room quietly after you had drifted off to sleep. The events of the night before had been intense, you couldn't shake the memory of how furious he was. Though, strangely enough, you didn’t feel guilty like you'd expected. Instead, an overwhelming wave of relief washed over you. You hadn’t fully grasped the mental toll that relationship was taking on you, and now that you were free from him, you could finally see just how toxic he truly was. You felt silly for not seeing it before.

So now that it’d been a few weeks, you were getting ready for work and found yourself feeling the happiest you’d ever been—enjoying single life and the moments spent with your eight amazing roommates. Feeling especially grateful for your best friend and the depth of his care for you. You thought back to when he helped you get ready for bed, even when all you wanted was to curl into a ball and sob until you lost consciousness. He chose your favorite pajamas, turned away while you changed, and gently helped you through your skincare routine. He even grabbed his toothbrush from his bathroom so you could brush your teeth together. Then, when it was time to sleep, he laid down beside you, ensuring you fell asleep with a sense of peace.

Mingi was truly a blessing in your life, and your love for him ran deep. You couldn't help but smile, thinking about how his personality did a one-eighty from when you first met him to now; you laughed as you remembered the little crush you used to have on him. Used to? You stopped laughing, eyes shooting wide at your intrusive thought. You shook your head trying to clear it away like you were an etch-a-sketch, Yes… used to. I don’t anymore. I love him, but I’m not in love with him. Deciding to move past it, you finished getting ready and headed to work with the guys.

————————————-☆-—————————————

Today was a rare day, everyone had a free afternoon in their schedules and the boys had decided it would be fun to do something together.

“How about karaoke?” San suggested. Everyone looked at him with blank expressions and side eyes, deflating him a bit.

“Really? We just got back from the studio, no more singing today,” Yunho groaned, “How about an amusement park?”

Yunho’s suggestion made San perk back up, liking that idea much more than his own. The other guys and you agreed too, and you felt a rush of anticipation—an amusement park sounded like a blast, and luckily there was one not too far away. Memories flooded back; could it really have been so long since your last visit to a theme park? Maybe Disney World when I was ten? The thought sent a thrill through you, especially at the idea of the roller coasters, knowing how much joy they had brought you back then. A harsh reminder brought you down from your excitement though; a famous boy group in a crowded park? Not a good idea. You sulked, which grabbed the attention of Mingi.

“What’s got you down? You seemed so excited just a second ago,” he prodded.

“Did you guys forget who you are for a second? We couldn’t possibly go to such a popular place so close to a comeback, you’d be swarmed,” You looked at each of the boys, some of them already sporting a new haircut or color. Mingi’s grown-out bleach job was replaced with brown dye and blonde streaks. It made him look a bit like a calico cat actually, which you thought was really cute. Yeosang had neon green hair peppered with black stripes, Yunho’s hair was silver, and San’s flaming red hair practically begged for the attention of everyone within a kilometer radius. A few of them furrowed their brows, a flicker of understanding passing over their faces as they realized you were right. They slumped a little, the weight of disappointment settling in as they felt their fun afternoon slipping away. Hongjoong, however, pulled out his phone and smirked.

“Give me a second,” He said, dialing a number.

A couple of phone calls later, you found yourself in an empty, Lotte World, a surreal playground all to yourselves. The entire park had been closed for the rest of the day just for the eight boys standing beside you. Sometimes, you forgot about the immense power they possessed, and you found it extremely intimidating. The only other people around were you and the few park staff members left to keep the rides running. Oh— and a crew of cameras—Hongjoong only managed to convince them to go along with the idea by agreeing to have content filmed. So, while you were technically working, your only real task was to have fun.

This was the very first time you’d be on camera with them since the group picture that was taken when you first met. It sent a wave of unease through you as if a million prying eyes would be scrutinizing your every move. Mingi noticed the change in your demeanor as the cameras were being set up and turned on.

Instinctively, he draped his arm over your shoulders, his hand offering a gentle, reassuring comfort as he slowly rubbed up and down your right shoulder. You eased into his touch and felt your anxiety levels decrease as you searched for his familiar cologne to envelope your senses; he always smelled of wood, citrus, and mint, a combination you’d grown to love. Today though, his cologne smelled a bit more musky, like warm sage and sea salt. To your surprise it made your mouth water a bit; breathing in deeply, you asked him, “New cologne?”

He looked at you with a smirk, hoping you’d notice. He gave a quiet mhmm in response, as he moved you in front of him and started massaging between your neck and shoulders. The varied pressure made you close your eyes and quietly sigh, melting beneath his ministrations. Pulling you a bit closer to him, he leaned down next to your ear, and just slightly above a whisper asked, “Alrighty then, where should we go first?”

It made you jump a bit and squirm out of his hold on you, your ears felt hot. What the hell is in the air here? Mingi looked more attractive to you than ever and you swallowed a thick lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there. You coughed a bit to clear it, and the feeling, away before you spoke. Thinking about what you wanted to do most here, your eyes gleamed with excitement, “How about we go on a rollercoaster?”

As if it was now his turn to have his demeanor change, Mingi’s aura shifted. He no longer had that flirty air about him, instead, he froze. He tried hiding it, but his face went pale and eyes wide. The calm breathing he had before was replaced with shallow breaths as his heart rate picked up. He really was a big scaredy cat. You didn’t seem to notice though as you grabbed his hand and dragged him along with you to find the nearest rollercoaster, yelling out to the others, “Who wants to come with us?”

Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Yunho eagerly joined in, and San, wanting to stick close to you all, tagged along as well. However, when you reached the coaster, he suddenly hesitated, backing out and opting to wait at the entrance. “Are you sure?” you asked, disliking the thought of him waiting alone. He nodded quietly, but before you could offer to stay with him, Mingi interjected, “I’ll wait with him, it’s okay.”

Mentally, he let out a sigh of relief, grateful for this easy escape from having to ride what he considered to be a death trap. You watched as they walked away from the empty line, heading towards the outside of the ride. Turning your attention back to the exciting rollercoaster in front of you, you felt a rush of anticipation as the employee prepared everything. You shared a glance with Yunho, both of you silently agreeing to sit together. Outside, San stood captivated by the sprawling metal structure of the coaster, while Mingi's gaze was fixated on the entrance.

Once the initial sense of relief passed over him, a different feeling began to settle in—regret. Now that he was away from your side, he couldn’t shake the longing feeling that he wished to have stayed and pushed through his fears. It wasn’t until he was out of breath, one hand resting on Yunho’s shoulder, that he realized he had sprinted back. You were already situated in your seat on the coaster, and Mingi had just reached Yunho in time before he boarded. Yunho, recognizing the urgency in Mingi’s eyes, nodded with understanding, aware of his friend's silent plea, and quickly left to accompany San. You looked over with confusion in your eyes, but a smile on your face when you saw him sitting down in the seat next to yours, pulling the bar above over his shoulders to secure himself in. There was no going back now, but he didn’t care, as long as it meant he got to be beside you.

Despite how he felt on the inside though, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to his fear. As the ride slowly started to go up the incline towards the first drop his eyes screwed shut and his breath began to match his erratic heartbeat. You heard the labored breathing next to you and saw that Mingi was absolutely terrified, worried for him you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He struggled to speak, hyperventilating by this point, “I’m scared of heights…”

“What!” Your eyes blew wide, full of concern, “Then… why did you get on?”

He grabbed your hand, and squeezed it tightly, hoping that your touch would help ground him, “I… I wanted to be with you.”

The coaster was now only a mere meter away from the drop, but all you could do was look at him. His desire to be with me outweighed his fear… Your eyes remained locked on him, brimming with a mix of love and concern. You gently intertwined your fingers, and he finally opened his eyes to meet yours. In those familiar brown depths, you could read his every emotion. His gaze had always been a window to his soul, revealing his true feelings. While on the surface he looked mortified, his eyes whispered a different truth—that he had never felt more at ease and secure in his life. As the coaster finally dropped he exclaimed, “Y/N-ah!— I love you!”

The exhilarating rush of adrenaline from the coaster intertwined with his confession left you feeling truly electric. You raised your hands high, savoring every second of the ride, and slowly, he lifted his hands too, a radiant smile blossoming on his face. Seeing his huge smile as his fears melted away tugged at your heartstrings so deeply that whatever had been holding you back from embracing your feelings for him shattered completely. You found yourself swept up on a rollercoaster of emotions, realizing with extreme clarity that you were truly in love with Song Mingi, finally allowing yourself to believe in the magic of fate. Just loud enough for him to hear you gushed, “I love you too, Mingi-ah!”

You couldn’t see his face very clearly, but you could feel his warmth as he shifted your conjoined hands to press a heartfelt kiss against the back of your hand, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter uncontrollably. As the coaster finally came to a stop, your hand still remained tightly interlaced with Mingi’s, it just felt so natural; but when an employee approached to assist you both out of your seats and a camera crew waited for you to get off, ready to capture the moment, you found yourself reluctantly having to let go. Holding hands was a sweet, innocent gesture between friends, yet the presence of the camera made you hesitate, it felt too intimate in front of the lens. It took a bit of time to finally pry yourselves away from them, but once you did, you were hit by a sudden desire to get a bag of theme park popcorn.

Making your way back by yourself from a concession stand, you stumbled upon voices speaking in stern, hushed tones. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when you heard your name being mentioned, it froze you in your tracks. Discerning the voices from each other you realized that, Wooyoung, San, Yeosang, and Yunho were talking to Mingi.

“I’m not stupid Mingi, and neither are they, we can clearly see that something is going on between you and Yn,” Wooyoung exasperated.

“Woah, woah, I never said you were stupid,” Mingi rebutted, feeling a little hurt, “Do you really think I would call you that and actually mean it?”

“Woo—” San warned, trying to bring his friend down to a level-headed place, “careful…”

Wooyoung glanced over at San, then to Mingi, and back to San again, taking a deep breath to calm himself because he wished to avoid making things worse, “Right sorry… what I mean is; We heard you on the ride, loudly confessing to her, and then you’re expecting us to pretend like we didn’t?”

Mingi looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say. You listened intently once he found the words, “I’m not going to ask you to pretend. Feel free to shout it out like I did, but before you do, think about how it affects her. Not me. She’s the one that would face the consequences of my actions. If anyone is stupid here, it’s me. I was selfish instead of being smart. I don’t want to have to regret saying it to her, so please… not for me but for her, could it stay between us?”

There was a silence as Wooyoung thought over the proposition he was given, and Yunho was the one that commented next, “I can’t say I’m surprised. I figured it was only a matter of time before you told her how you felt.”

“It’s just a shame you can’t do anything about it,” Yeosang added, always being one wanting to see love win.

“Well… not exactly,” San grinned, “We can pretend to not know anything. It’s just a matter of making sure that Joong, Hwa, and the managers don’t find out.”

“And Jongho,” Wooyoung added, finally breaking his silence, finding it hard to stay upset when Mingi’s puppy eyes were present.

“Jongho already knows about Mingi’s feelings, and he would figure it out pretty quickly if we acted like nothing was going on. Getting him in on it is better than keeping him out of it, he’s less trouble that way,” Yunho disagreed, earning concurring nods from the other three.

“Are you guys going to let me in on it too, or am I to be kept in the dark as well?” You chimed in giggling, deciding it was probably a good moment for you to join the conversation.

“How long have you been there?” Mingi asked, his face feeling hot.

“Long enough…” You smirk, giving him a knowing look.

“None of that…” Wooyoung butts in, “It looks hella obvious when you look at each other like that.”

“Like what?” You inquired, tongue in cheek, playing dumb. You felt frustrated by the assumptions being made, especially since you and Mingi hadn't yet had the opportunity to discuss it together.

Wooyoung sighed heavily, and once again Yunho spoke in place of him, “Look… we’ve all been away for a while, and people are going to start noticing. For now, let’s just head back and enjoy the park while we can, we can figure this out later. I’m sure we’re all hungry; where should we eat after?”

————————————-☆-—————————————

You once thought the world to be anti-romantic, but that wasn't always your belief. You grew up filled with hope, longing for the kind of love that danced through the pages of books and lit up the screens of movies, and you were certain that such love would one day find its way to you. It was, without a doubt, your heart's deepest desire. So when you got your first boyfriend, you believed that this was it, your dream was finally going to come true. Except it didn’t— you were only in middle school and two days later he dumped you for the girl you sat next to in class. It was okay though. You were a resilient kid, determined to not let a fleeting moment with a silly boy dim your spirit, so handling it with grace you moved forward. Throughout high school, you had crushes that flickered like weak candle flames, nothing ever truly igniting. It had slowly started to dim your hope. Your standards had become impossibly high molded by the enchanting stories of fictional romance that no ordinary teenage boy could ever hope to match. It wasn’t until college that you entered your first real relationship, the taste of first love felt exhilarating. It lasted for a couple precious years, but it all came crashing down when you discovered your only love had been cheating on you. You were heartbroken, utterly shattered, and this time, your hope didn’t have the strength to bounce back. You couldn’t help but wonder why you even bothered getting into that relationship with your most recent ex-boyfriend, especially when you hadn’t any hope it would work left within you. That is, until you met him— the man sitting in front of you who you hadn’t realized took your shattered hope and pieced it back together with his gentle love. So now, as you watched him set a piece of food on your plate, you could say with full certainty that you no longer believed the world to be anti-romantic, and that true love does exist, it just takes its time to find you once you’re ready for it.

You paused in eating, eager to capture Mingi’s attention. He was always so completely immersed in his food when he truly enjoyed it, and you couldn’t help but find that trait of his really adorable. When he finally looked up and caught your gaze, a wide smile appeared across his face, making your heart swell. Looking down at your shared table, you made sure that no one was looking before you turned back to him and mouthed, I love you.

You didn’t know it was even possible for him to smile bigger, yet somehow he did. A soft giggle slipped from your lips when you noticed the tips of his ears turning a cute shade of pink, and with an adorably flustered expression, he cupped his face in his hands, trying to hide as the color deepened to a vibrant red. Your heart raced at his reaction, and you could feel a warm blush creeping onto your cheeks. Wooyoung, sitting beside you, caught onto what was going on and lightly nudged your shoulder and Mingi’s foot from beneath the table, delivering a silent reminder that you both needed to tone down the obviousness. Eventually, he uncovered his face, scratching at the back of his head as he struggled to redirect his focus back to his plate. Just when you thought the tension might linger, Hongjoong came through with a perfect distraction— a drinking game. He set down on the table a lottery spinner, and the balls inside held rousing questions just waiting to be unleashed. Rules of play were simple; a spun fork chooses who gets to go, when you get a ball from the cage you have to answer its question, and if you don’t, take a shot.

Hongjoong started off the game with the first spin. You watched the fork tantalizingly go round and round before it stopped on… you. A nervous grin was plastered on your face as the spinner was passed down to you; you gave its handle a couple of turns before a ball popped out. Opening up the small plastic container, you pulled out a folded piece of paper, and smoothed it out before reading aloud, “What physical feature do you find the most attractive?”

A small wave of ‘ooo’s and looks of curiosity passed throughout the group. You weren’t expecting the questions to be risqué, yet here you were, staring down at one that made your stomach do a flip. Your throat felt suddenly dry, and everyone staring at you in anticipation made your seat feel hot. Out of all the people there, Mingi was the last person you expected to say, “Oh, this’ll be good…”

He had his arms propped up on the table, his chin resting on his hands, and a sinful grin playing at the corner of his lips. To you and the guys who knew, it was painfully clear what he was up to, but to those who didn’t, he appeared to be nothing more than a playful, teasing friend. You gave him a warning glare, to which he responded by mischievously poking his tongue slightly between his teeth and scrunching up his nose. He’s cute… so I’ll let it slide.

“Welll? What’s the answer!” Wooyoung poked, wiggling his eyebrows, earning an amused chortle from you. Figuring there’d been enough suspense for the night, you cleared your throat and then quickly answered, “Lips.”

“Any size?” San inquired, joining in on the apparent group taunt fest.

Face getting red, you answered, “No… I like big lips the most,” Looking down you quietly added, “ I-I mean…I really like kissing and it makes it more enjoyable. At least it is for me anyways, I don’t speak for anyone else.”

Not realizing the effects your words had on him, Mingi’s leg was nervously bouncing, and his cheeks had a slight dusting of blush on them. Ending your turn, you spun the fork and silently prayed that it wouldn’t land on you again for the rest of the night. Round and round it went, coming to a stop on… Mingi. He opened the ball that the spinner spit out for him and read it aloud, “Who was your last spicy dream about?”

His head whipped up in shock, his eyes wide with mortification reaching for his glass to take a shot, receiving a few disappointed groans from his curious friends. After downing his drink, he locked eyes with you, giving you a silent answer that secretly you had desired to know. Smirking you decided to take the opportunity to mess with him like he did with you.

“Come on man, not even going to humor us?” You teased. Wooyoung had stifled a cackle at the look on Mingi’s face— a nervous side eye as he shook his head, spinning the fork to end his turn. You just snickered, feeling content with his reaction.

————————————-☆-—————————————

Nighttime had fully settled in by the time everyone left the restaurant and the hot humidity of the day had dissipated from the air. It was a warm, refreshing walk back to the house, and with the bittersweet knowledge that it was the last day of summer, you felt a deep yearning to do one last thing before it slipped away, “I want to get some ice cream, any of you guys want to join?”

The guys paused for a moment, weighing their options, but after a long and exhausting day, they ultimately decided to head home for some much-needed rest. As expected, Mingi chose to stay behind, lingering in the promise of alone time with you. Once the guys had walked out of view, you felt slightly awkward, uncertain about how to move forward now that things had shifted between you. Almost immediately, though, Mingi reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers in a gentle embrace that brought a sense of comfort through his familiar presence. He always had a remarkable ability to put you at ease in those moments of tension, making your world feel just a little bit lighter. As you started your journey towards the nearest convenience store, he cleared his throat, “So… big lips huh?”

You playfully punched his arm with your free hand and then covered your face, embarrassed you admitted to that truth earlier. He moved your hand away gently so that he could look at you. One of the first things you noticed about him was his lips, and every time you looked at them it stirred something within you. Deep down you’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, how his plush lips would feel on yours. Would they be firm? Soft? Slow or hungry? You couldn’t help but stare at them now. He smirked as he realized where your gaze was directed and he licked his lips, “What kind of ice cream do you want?”

You looked away to find that you were already in front of a freezer stocked with the sweet treat. When did we get here? He pulled out a banana flavor for himself and waited patiently, thinking quickly you answered, “Uhhhh… strawberry.”

He picked one out just for you, went inside to pay, and then returned to settle beside you on the bench outside. In the warm air and a comfortable silence, you both savored your ice cream; every now and then stealing glances at the other, before returning back to your delicious treat. You both were acting like giddy kids with their first crush. As you took the last bite of your ice cream and discarded the wrapper in a nearby bin, out of the corner of your eye you spotted a playground and booked it for the swings. Mingi, caught off guard by your sudden movement, understood quickly and followed after, tossing his empty wrapper away.

You loved the swings, always feeling a rush of freedom when you soared through the air like a bird. Slowly, you swung back and forth, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of the stars, though you could only catch faint glimmers due to the bright city’s relentless light pollution. Mingi mimicked you, but he ended up losing his balance and tumbled right out of the swing seat. He hit the ground with a soft thud. Instantly you rushed over, anxiously checking if he was okay. His small, infectious laughter reassured you that he was fine, and you couldn’t help but join in, finding it hilarious how he always seemed to forget just how tall he was.

You grabbed his hand to help him sit up and dusted the dirt off his shoulders, not realizing how close you ended up to his face until you felt his warm breath on you. He was biting at his lip as he stared at yours, causing your heart to flutter. Your faces merely a couple of centimeters away from each other, you’d only have to move just a bit to— Mingi pressed his lips upon yours, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, like a velvety pillow against your own. You could feel the gentle tickle of his breath beneath your nose, as his fingers wove through your hair. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as you both lost yourselves in the intoxicating sensation of each other’s touch. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and you happily parted, granting him access into your mouth. In that moment, you realized you would forever love the combination of strawberry and banana that flooded your senses. After what felt like a blissful eternity, you finally separated, your breaths mingling as you rested your foreheads together. He smiled gently, eyes sparkling, and he gave you a quick, tender peck that held a world of affection, “I love you so much, Yn. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me.”

His words made you absolutely melt, making you feel like the main character of an early 2000s rom-com movie, “You gave me the hope to believe in love again, Song Mingi.”

You gave him a deep, heartfelt kiss, pouring into it every emotion you desperately wished to express for him. He grinned against your mouth, glad that he finally had you.

“I’m going to safely assume that this means we're dating now, in secret?” He said looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes that made you feel weak in the knees.

“Oooh, this will be fun. Dating in secret, like we are in some kind of sitcom or something,” You grinned, assuring him he was right in his assumption, “We should head back soon though if we want to keep this a secret.”

—Middle of Fall—

Six months since moving in and over a month of secretly dating Mingi. You two have become quite skilled at creating the illusion of being just friends, though really the only thing that had changed was that now you shared kisses when no one else was watching. For Halloween, you had a couple's "besties" costume; you dressed up as Fred and Daphne, and somehow you had convinced Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho to be Shaggy, Scooby, and a gender-bent Velma, to keep suspicion at bay. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seemed none the wiser, and you and Mingi were as happy as ever.

—Beginning of Winter—

7 months. You began researching apartments in the area, knowing that you’d much prefer to stay in Korea than return to the States. This was home for you now. During your secret sleepovers, Mingi would eagerly share his thoughts on which neighborhoods offered the best apartments, that somehow were always conveniently within walking distance for him. You weren’t going to complain though.

—Christmas Day—

8 months. Mingi surprised you with a gift you had always hoped for over the years, and you couldn't help but wonder how he knew that you wanted it. He must be able to read minds… oh, Jesus, I hope not. The thoughts I’ve had about him… You gave him a handmade gift, which made him cry; he was such a deeply emotional person, which you loved more than anything.

Christmas was one of your favorite holidays, and you had always wanted to share a kiss with your boyfriend under the mistletoe, a sweet moment you had never experienced before. When you had spied some dangling over a door frame, you scanned the area for watchful eyes before you pulled him in for a quick kiss. Well, maybe not so quick… he pulled you back in, turning it into a fervent, hasty make-out session that left you both breathless.

—New Year's Eve—

Only a few days later, the guys and the KQ managers had organized a team New Year’s Eve party. As the clock struck midnight, you and Mingi locked eyes from across the room, playfully blowing kisses to each other, not daring to do it for real in front of everyone. Though, once everyone had gone to bed, you finally got to share your New Year’s kiss, “Happy New Year, Yn.”

“Happy New Year, Min.”

—End of Winter—

10 months. It was nearly a year since you moved in, and today was your five-month anniversary with Mingi. You both were fortunate enough to have the day off and at last, you could finally celebrate together. Since Hongjoong and Seonghwa dedicated their entire day to fine-tuning their Matz performance at the studio, you two were free to do as you pleased, without having to worry about getting caught. He surprised you with a wonderful breakfast, that he made himself, and after you finished eating together, he excitedly told you to get ready because he had something special planned for the day.

As you were getting ready though, outside rain began to pour, heavily; the moment the first crack of thunder rolled in, it became clear that your plans were dashed. You heard a soft knock at your door, and Mingi poked his head in with a warm smile that brightened the gloomy atmosphere, “Change of plans, put your pajamas back on. Let’s make a blanket fort.”

So you did, and it was amazing. It was enormous, full of soft pillows, twinkling string lights, and an array of fluffy blankets to lay on. The fort’s opening was perfectly positioned right in front of the TV in his room, and you had a double feature of each of your favorite movies.

—Beginning of Spring—

Work comeback was happening in a couple of months and the festival performances were starting to pick up, and after the long winter break from the last tour, you were excited to be traveling with them once again. KCON was upon you in just a few days, and you felt like a hamster tirelessly running on a wheel amidst the whirlwind of preparations. Yet, despite the chaos, everything felt just right because you got to spend every day by his side, watching him passionately rehearse until he deemed the routine to be perfect. He always looks so hot when he’s dancing.

“You’re drooling, Yn,” Yunho laughed.

“Ha ha… am not,” You snapped out of the trance Mingi had you in and you wiped your mouth, it was dry, Yunho was just teasing you.

“You practically were,” San jumped in, also noticing how you were staring, “Gotta be more careful, you’re gonna give yourself away.”

You looked over to where the managers, Joong, and Hwa were, talking to each other about KCON details, “Yeah… they’re too busy to notice anything right now. Thank god…”

“You were looking at him like some horny teenager,” Wooyoung chimed in, joining the bandwagon, “Heck if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you two haven’t— nah, you two have had… right?”

You looked at him with big eyes, face red as ever, whispered yelling at him, “Shhhhhut up, Woo.”

“Are you serious? You two really haven’t slept together yet?” He looked shocked. Yunho pushed him a bit, signaling him to cut it out.

“Who cares if they have or haven’t. It’s none of your business,” Yunho defended.

“Thank you, Yun. It really isn’t his business,” you huffed.

“Yeah, Woo, we all live under the same roof. We would hear them if they were,” San theorized, thinking that he was helping, causing you to hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

“They could go somewhere else,” Wooyoung rattled on.

You let out a muffled groan, “Why do you want to know so bad…”

“Know what?” Mingi had walked over to take a water break, wondering what had you so flustered.

“Why you two haven’t fucked yet,” Wooyoung said nonchalantly.

Mingi choked on his water, sending him into a coughing fit, he croaked out, “Wh-what? W-why are you talking about that?”

“The way Yn was looking at you earlier… let’s just say it wasn’t very PG,” Yunho attested. You glared daggers at him. So much for defending me earlier, huh?

Mingi looked at you with a smirk, “Oh really?”

“Please not you too. This is four against one now, it’s not fair,” You whined quietly, “It’s also not a very safe topic of conversation, there are people here that aren’t supposed to know about us, remember??”

They all looked over at said people, who were still not aware of what was going on, you continued, “It’s far too public to talk about that.”

“Careful there, Yn. Your words sound borderline suggestive,” Wooyoung jested.

You got up and started to leave, “Yeah no, not doing this anymore. I’ve got things to do, gotta work ya know.”

“Ahh come on, I’m just having fun,” Wooyoung pouted, Mingi pushed him slightly, causing him to fall over. The three boys just laughed at him as you left the room, taking a much-needed calming breath as the studio door closed behind you.

————————————-☆-—————————————

There was a team meeting in fifteen minutes, and you found yourself preparing coffee for everyone, standing in quiet anticipation as you waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing. Suddenly, you felt a pair of arms wrap gently around your waist, drawing you into a warm back hug. Mingi rested his chin in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry for earlier. Woo has no filter when it comes to that sort of thing.”

You turned around and hooked your arms around his neck, “Oh I know. It’s fine really, no harm done, just extremely flustered is all.”

He nodded, moving his hands so that they settled on your waist and lazily rubbed circles, “Still, he shouldn’t have kept messing with you. So what if we haven’t? Why rush? We have the rest of our lives together.”

“The rest of our lives?” You grinned.

“Of course, you’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he laughed.

You smirked, “Well I hope I won’t have to wait that long…”

He raised his eyebrows, mouth slightly agape, you continued on, “Do you plan on making me wait, Princess?”

His face flushed at the nickname, caught off guard by how it was used. With a spark of newfound confidence, you playfully continued to tease him, letting your hand glide down his chest before using your pointer and middle finger to slowly walk in a line back up. He leaned in closer, his voice taking on a graveled tone, “Of course not, I just never wanted to make you feel pressured, that's all.”

“You could never make me feel pressured, Min. We don’t have to rush, but it’s been pretty long already… don’t you think?” You whispered, faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Mmm, was all he could muster in response before crashing his lips against yours. Unlike the first time you kissed, this one was filled with a deeper hunger and a passionate fire that burned for the other. He lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the counter, continuing to kiss you with fervor, moving from your lips to your ear, and then trailing down to your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin, a mixture of desire and longing building inside you both. His hands snaked up under your shirt, resting his hands above your waist, and you carded your fingers through his hair, while your other hand pulled him in closer to you.

“Hey Y/N, the new choreographer is lactose intoler—” Seonghwa entered the room, stopping at the sight before him. You both broke apart immediately. Mingi helped you down from the counter, and you bit at your thumb nervously. Seonghwa just stared at you both, dumbfounded, and then continued as if nothing happened, “—anyways. Just make sure that you don’t put milk in there alright… I saw nothing.”

As quick as he entered, he left, leaving both you and Mingi in shock. You giggled nervously, “Welp! Hwa knows now. Do you think he will say anything to Joong?”

Mingi thought for a moment before he shook his head and laughed, “No, I think we’re good for now, but it’s probably best to save the hot and heavy stuff for when we aren’t at work from now on.”

You flashed him a sheepish grin as the coffee maker chimed, signaling that it had finished brewing. Turning to pour the dark liquid into each cup, you tried your best to recompose yourself after what just happened. Mingi snapped the lids on once you were done, then offered his hand to help carry half of them to the team meeting, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

—Coachella—

12 months since winning the raffle, and one week until you had to move out. Lord have mercy on my soul, pleaseeeeee, was all you could think when your platinum blond boyfriend walked out of the dressing room. You felt embarrassingly turned on just by what he was wearing; an unbuttoned jacket, and distressed jeans that left little to the imagination, paired with a large faux tattoo scrawled across his chest advertising his signature phrase. It was all too much, you could already feel your face heating up, and the sweltering weather of the valley was not helping; Neither was the fact that you and him still hadn’t found the chance to relieve any of your accumulated tension… since there was always someone around to interrupt your attempts, keeping you from going through with what you both longed for. You had reached a point where sexual frustration was constantly bothering you, with no way to resolve it. Before you and him had talked about the possibility of it, self-satisfaction was enough to ease the longing, but now, not even that could provide the relief you desperately craved. Just seeing him walk around had you involuntary pressing your thighs together. You had never felt more aroused before than you did now and it was becoming distracting to your task at hand.

Your job today was to lend a hand with quick changes and keep track of props. The guys would soon start their last performance and you still hadn’t double-checked that each prop was in its correct spot backstage. Shaking your head to clear your mind, you got up and headed towards the prop table. Everything was in its rightful place and you didn’t have much to do but wait, so you kept yourself busy by fiddling with the cane that your silly boyfriend held during his part in Arriba.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with the props before?” Mingi leaned in, whispering sweetly in your ear from behind, startling you and causing your heart to race. You spun around, eyes wide, holding your chest as if it would soothe your erratic heartbeat. With furrowed brows and a lighthearted faux frown, you swatted at him, but he effortlessly dodged your playful attempt.

“Jesus Min! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” You lightly chastised as you crossed your arms, not actually upset just spooked.

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist,” He smiled, hands up in the air in surrender, “Anyways, are you excited for the show?”

“Always!” You beamed.

“What do you think of tonight’s outfit,” He did a little twirl, holding out his arms, displaying the large tattoo for you better. Trying to hide the blush on your face you looked away from him, and he grinned, “I’ll take that as a yes then?”

Nodding, you turned your gaze back to him, biting down on your tongue, your eyes lingering on him with a mix of lust and love, “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear…”

“I’ll go put a shirt on right now, I can’t have you dying on me,” He joked.

“No, keep it off. One less thing to take off later,” You teased, feeling proud as you watched his face turn a light shade of red.

“Oh? What’s later?” He flirted back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“You’ll find out after the show,” You grinned, leaving him hanging, and giving him a reminder, “You’re on in five.”

“Cheer for me?” He said, flashing a cocky smile as he slowly started walking to join the rest of the guys.

“Of course! Knock ‘em dead, Princess,” You winked, blowing him a kiss.

————————————-☆-—————————————

The morning sun poured in through the hotel curtains, gently coaxing you awake. Your eyes fluttered open, landing on tousled, messy platinum locks. As you yawned, you felt the comforting shift of Mingi’s arm around your waist, drawing you in closer as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. A soft giggle escaped your lips, feeling tickled as his breath brushed against your bare skin, memories flooded in of all that unfolded the night before. Clothes discarded around the room, his strong grip holding you firmly against the wall, his gentle touch igniting waves of unimaginable pleasure as you both came undone together. Wrapped in each other's warm embrace, eventually drifting into blissful sleep.

“Morning, Love,” He smiled softly against your skin, his voice coarse and warm with the lingering embrace of sleep. He started placing soft, lazy kisses along your neck, and you let out a content sigh.

“M’good morning, Min,” You moved your hand so that you could play with his hair. It still felt soft despite all the times it had been bleached. He hummed happily and you wished that you could stay just like that all day, lost in each other’s presence, but there was so much that had to be done. Begrudgingly you said, “We should get up. There’s a music video that needs filming…”

With his morning voice still present he groaned, “No, let’s just stay here. They can get it done without us.”

You airily laughed at his pathetic, and cute, attempt to convince you, “I wish, but alas it’s quite unfortunate that it can’t be done without us.”

He moved above you, propping himself up with his arms, a sinful look in his eyes, “What if I tried persuading you in a different way,” He slid his knee so that it was in between your legs, slowly moving it up, and pressing lightly against you.

“Mmmmm, tempting,” You breathed out, trying your best to prevent yourself from letting him rile you up, “but I would rather not risk getting scolded by Hongjoong.”

He sighed, a smirk on his face as he flopped back down on the bed, “Okayyy… you’re right.”

“There’s always later tonight, though, if you’re still feeling persuasive,” You grinned, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before you hopped up.

He called out to you before you went into the bathroom, “Count on it, Love.”

—End of Spring/Move Out Day—

The year had flown by and your time at the house had come to an end. You cherished every moment spent there, but a thrilling sense of excitement grew within you for the new chapter awaiting in your new place—conveniently just a few minutes away within walking distance, just as Mingi had always hoped. You looked at your empty room in the house one last time, a bittersweet ache settling in as you closed the door behind you. All of the guys awaited you in the living room, ready to help you get settled into your new apartment. As you looked at each of them, you were reminded of all of the great memories you spent with them over the year, and tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. Half of them had already been crying, and the other half seemed on the verge of starting as they pulled you into a warm group hug. As they let you go, Hongjoong spoke, “I guess this means I can finally stop pretending like I don’t know you and Mingi are dating, huh?”

He enjoyed the look of surprise on everyone’s faces; no one knew that he knew, not even Seonghwa who felt betrayed, “How long have you known?”

“I guess I always knew it would happen eventually, ever since her very first day here. I would be quite disappointing as a Captain if I couldn't sense the feelings of my team members,” He explained, “Plus I saw them canoodling on the playground last summer. Way to be subtle guys…”

“Ope! He’s known since day one,” Yeosang cracked up, covering his mouth.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, confused.

“The primary reason behind the rule was to prevent conflict. I knew that if I had spoken up and kept you two apart, it would have created even more problems than simply allowing you to be together. Deep down, I couldn’t help but secretly wish that you both would finally start dating, the tension had become almost too much to bear,” He reasoned, then smiling sweetly he admitted, “I’m rooting for you both, genuinely.”

You heard the soft sound of sniffling and turned to see Mingi in tears, his arms outstretched, longing to hug Hongjoong, “Captain… I love you, you really are the best.”

“Yeah, yeah… I love you too— “ He dodged the embrace, redirecting the topic back to you, “Let’s get you moved into the new place shall we, Yn?”

—Epilogue—

Life started to feel like each day was unfolding in a beloved book or favorite movie. You were offered a permanent position at KQ, which you eagerly accepted, thrilled at the thought of seeing the guys every day. You found genuine delight in going to work; albeit it was a strange feeling for you to actually be excited about your job for once, but nevertheless you had no reason at all to complain. Eventually, you got the chance to visit Hinata on a trip to Japan, and when you introduced her to your boyfriend she damn near passed out. She was absolutely ecstatic for you, insisting that you had to make her your maid of honor since she was the one who encouraged you to do the raffle in the first place. You couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh, reassuring her that there was truly no one else you would rather have in that special role when the day came. Mingi joked with her, “I haven’t even proposed yet and she’s already assigning her maid of honor…”

Jokes aside though, he couldn’t wait for that day to come, already dreaming up the perfect way to do it; And he always seized every opportunity to tell you that you were the love of his life and he couldn’t wait to spend forever by your side. You were his everything— and Mingi was yours.

“I love you.”

“Forever and always.”

Masterlist

#... oh my god they were roomates #ateez #fanfic blog #fanfic #kpop #ateez x reader #atiny #kpop writers #18+ mdni #mingi x reader #mingi #song mingi #ateez mingi #first fanfic #mingi fluff #ateez soft hours #ateez soft thoughts

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gguk-n · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.

{Reader's POV}

12/07/2012

Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.

02/01/2013

OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.

I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.

My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.

So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.

After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.

Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.

18/12/2013

Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!

I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.

04/03/2014

Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.

Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.

We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.

After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.

17/05/2015

Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.

09/08/2015

This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.

[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]

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lovingjingyuan · 5 months ago

Note

What if reader has turned into a kitten or a cat? How will the hsr boys react to that?

(got this idea from this post https://www.tumblr.com/matchaitham/717357559079665664/how-un-fur-tunate?source=share )

Pairing: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Dr Ratio

Aventurine(Kakavasha) Would spoil you with a luxury cat life. How could this have happened?! Aventurine was just on a peaceful stroll around the IPC headquarters when a sudden peculiar cat perched its head out of the corner and started tailing him. Who allowed the cat in this building? Topaz? Oh, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Unlike Topaz Aventurine was never too fond of animals himself. It’s never that he dislikes animals but rather he feels indifferent towards pets. Yet for some reason, this cat held his regard.

“Meow~” the cat's eyes falter before Aventurine’s presence.

“Are you talking to me, kitty?”

“Meow”

“Mh? Is there something you want to say, pretty kitty?”

“Meow!♡”

Communication was harder than he anticipated, but the urgency in the cat and anomalous behavior were enough evidence that he should follow through.

“Look here, Little Kitty,” he heaved a sigh, “I really don’t have the time for this. I need to go back to work,” he gently cushioned your head between his palms so he could feel the softness of the cat fur.

But in the end, despite all his protesting, Aventurine yielded to the cat’s insistence. Aventurine trailed behind the cat into his beloved bedroom. Strange why would this cat bring him into your shared room with him? The cat directed its attention to a portrait featuring both you and Aventurine, suddenly it all clicked to Aventurine. You are the cat!

“Kitty, what do you mean? Yes, I know my sweetheart is beautiful,” he would tease you pretending he didn’t catch on to what you were trying to hint. He watched the panic arise on your kitty's face.

“Meow!”

“Just playing, sweetheart,” he knelt down, opening his arm for your embrace, “Come here you good, little kitty! Aren’t you just a clever kitty?” his fingers scratched behind one of your fluffy ears. “God, you’re adorable and lovely even as a cat.”

You profusely let out meows while in Aventurine’s embrace. You would hiss at Aventurine whenever he tried feeding you cat food.

“Well, aren’t you feeling a little feisty today, sweetheart? Okay okay, I’ll get you back in no time”

He would prodigal you in luxurious cat beds and toys, even if he realizes or knows he’ll have to turn you back into your true self sooner or later. He just wants to embrace this special moment he has with you. Plus he knows he wouldn’t be able to have you stay a cat forever. You’re his lover, not his pet. Boom! Now he adores cats! Whenever he sees a cat he would think back to the situation between you and him.

Jing Yuan He would find this situation adorable and silly. Jing Yuan strolled around his garden frowning and sighing at the weeds hanging around his garden. A sudden cat perched at his feet. His thoughts immediately wandered to Mimi, yet he knew it couldn’t be her.

“Meow~”

He gently patted the cat’s head as it nuzzled against his fingers, looking up at him with familiar eyes. It was uncanny how much this cat resembled you in his head. Jing Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle to himself thinking about how’d you react when he introduced this cat to you.

“I’m sure my love would adore you,” he muttered, scratching the cat’s chin. He couldn’t help but bring himself to smile every time the cat nuzzled, brushing his head against his touch. Such an affectionate cat.

“Meow Meow!” The cat darted off expecting Jing Yuan to follow behind. Amused by its anomalous behavior, he let this little feline lead him to the bushes.

There, he watched the cat retrieve his lover’s phone, attempting to unlock your phone. The cat meowed trying to convey a message to him as a form of communication. Jing Yuan observed the strange cat’s behavior and was intrigued by the cat’s intelligence.

Before you the cat could succeed he takes the phone away from your captive. “Sorry, kitty. I need to return this to my lover,” his eyes stay falter, stretching the cat’s chin.

“Meow!” you hissed at him trying to get him to understand you ARE the cat, yet communicating with him was inefficient.

“General!” A high-pitched voice interrupted, and a purple dragon girl appeared, recognizing her as Bailu, rushing up to Jing Yuan in panic. “I-I turned your lover into a Cat! I’m so sorry!” Bailu pleaded.

“Mhhh… how fortuitous, “ he mused, his eyes relaxing on your small frame.

“I’m so sorry General! I was giving them medicine because they came in sick! I gave them something else by accident!” Bailu continued pleading with Jing Yuan, even if she knew the General was too kind to mind.

Jing Yuan can only chuckle, kneeing to your level and patting your head. “How unfortunate, yet how adorable. I’m sure we can fix this in no time,” he scooped you up in his arms, “Right my love?”

“Meow!”

He found himself adoring every moment spent with you while you’re a cat. He even prodigal a lot of cat toys and beds for you to feel comfortable. Of course, you still choose the bed with him. When you turn back into your former self, he’ll adopt a cat who looks just like you!

Veritas Ratio Let’s say he’s certainly not the brightest when you do. Ratio would cast you a disapproving look eyeing you up and down, as you can only meow at his direction. You had somehow shifted yourself into one of Ruan Mei’s creations while messing around with the Liveform Oven, creating new Cake Cats. Due to the potential danger, Ruan Mei had to return you over to Ratio for your safety.

“You imbecile,” was the first response he came up with seeing your circumstances. He surveyed you nestling in your cake as if it’s your bed which it technically is. He shook his head in disappointment as all you could mutter out were soft meows. “What am I ever going to do with your idiocy?”

“Meow~”

His heart falters at your meows. He couldn’t deny the unbearable adorableness, yet he would never express it to keep his ego intact.

Ruan Mei did assure him the effect would wear off in 60 system hours, but could he really handle 60 system hours of this? He was certainly not thrilled knowing it would slumber his intellect. Although harsh and overly honest on the outside he did have a weakness inside of his heart for you. Ratio is just an impatient man who sounds like him who cannot keep up. He never meant to offend anyone by being honest. Needless to say he certainly enjoyed it when you nap on his lap while he engrosses himself in a good book.

I wanna start improving my writing and wording, plus i really don't know my writing style. I never had a style or anything. I was also mid writing Boothill and stopped cause idk what to do for him. I love you Aventurine ur my new obession. Still loyal to Jing Yuan. I do proof read once but that's all.

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jarofstyles · 9 months ago

Text

One More Night of Freedom

.... hey.... So this is another piece of filth! Stripper!Y/N and Bachelor Party!H with his one night of freedom. I hope you enjoy love bugs!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 150+ exclusive writings!

Warnings- infidelity (H cheating WITH Y/N), stripping, dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint, slight anal play. We don't condone cheating irl thanks

WC- 4.6k

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Harry knew it was wrong. So wrong, so against every normal moral compass he usually held, but there was something about the woman in front of him that enchanted him. Made him second guess everything.

It was his bachelor party and his mates had encouraged him- forced him, really- to go to the back room to get a private dance from the one he’d been eyeing up all night. It was hard not to, with her creamy smooth skin, breasts held up perfectly by her bra and those fucking garters around her thighs- it was a major weakness of his. She moved her body like water, smooth and rippling as she worked around the pole. Hair following her like a velvet curtain and a cat like grin, full of filthy promise. His head had been reeling as an unfamiliar feeling rose in his guts and his cock shamefully grew in his trousers.

The thing was- He’d been trying to talk himself out of having cold feet for months. Proposing was what felt like the next logical step. That’s what her friends had said, what her parents had hinted out. They weren’t wrong, he supposed. Savannah was a good girl, someone his parents approved of, and she was nice. The sex was alright, she didn’t complain, and she was beautiful. But there was something missing.

That passion. That lust he’d always thought he would feel when it came to his forever partner. Something he’d been convinced wasn’t real. And he was a piece of shit, because watching the woman in the skimpy get up approach him as he sat in the oversized cushy chair, his cock had more interest in her than it had in his fiancè in the last 4 months.

“Hello.” She purred, syrupy voice warming his bones. “I heard I was specifically requested and with quite a nice tip promised. I can’t help but be flattered.” He could see her skin sparkling, like there was body shimmer sprinkled all over her. The thighs, the chest, her breasts especially- he felt that guilt in his stomach start to dissipate as she got closer to him. She smelled sweet, like coconuts and vanilla, and she stared right back into his eyes. Her lips painted a cherry red, he nearly panted as she placed her knees on either side of his spread thighs and sat on top of him.

God, he felt like his heart could beat out of his chest. Her warmth went straight to his cock though she wasn’t sitting on it yet, her hair long and brushing his forearm as he kept it on the arm of the leather chair. It was oversized for this specific purpose, he thought.

“Well, I have to admit to you that the feeling is mutual. I could feel your eyes on me when I was on the stage and I was impressed. Such a handsome man.” Her fingers stroked his jawline, tilting it up towards her face as she moved her hips. He was hypnotized. Eyes dipping to her lips and back up to her heated eyes. “You’ve got me for an hour, now. I think you should introduce yourself.”

He could barely feel his tongue, but he had to get to talking. She almost intimidated him, sitting on top of him and touching him like she had all the rights to be there. Like he wasn’t about to get married. “Harry. My name’s Harry.” He rasped, managing to spew those words out without losing his tongue. Thank god, because he knew it wanted to do many other things.

“Yeah? Well, Harry… you can call me Angel.” She purred, slipping her fingers up and through his hair. It was embarrassing when he let out a soft moan, feeling her manicured nails against his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him like this. His fiancè was sweet, but she didn’t really… do much for him. Not like this. She’d make a good wife, a good mother no doubt, but he wanted more than that. “I don’t usually take offers like this, you know.” The temptation moved from straddling him to standing in front of him, turning around and bending over to brush her ass against his crotch. “I don’t do private rooms but being blunt? I thought you were sexy. We can break a few rules tonight, can’t we?”

Her body laid on top of his as she rolled her ass on top of him, making him drop his head back against the chair. There was no way she couldn’t feel his cock, not with the way it was straining against his trousers. She moved perfectly against it, her arm coming back to tangle in his hair. Her temple was against his cheek, feeling the slight scruff as she took his hand from where it was clenching the arm of the chair with white knuckles, pulling it to run over her stomach.

“Usually… we don’t let people touch us. But I think I can make an exception for you.” Her hand was slow as she moved it up, trying to feel for any resistance. It was clear she wasn’t going to make him do more than he wanted- but that was the problem. He wanted. Fucking desperately. It was hard to hold on to the resolve, to remain faithful when the girl of his dreams was dangling herself like a cat going for a string. He wanted to touch and taste and feel. All the things he absolutely, positively should not do.

“Yeah?” His voice was dark and rough, trying to find his self control and ultimately failing as he let her drag his hand up and cup around her breast. The both of them let out a noise of relief as he squeezed without her urging, continuing her moving on him. “What kind of exception?”

“Well… your friends told me that you have one more night of freedom. That you didn’t seem like you were getting what you needed in your other situation.” Her thumb ran over his ring finger. “They told me that you needed to pull your head out of your ass and see that it’s a mistake.” Her body moved further up, lips ghosting his jaw. “To put it bluntly, Harry, they wanted me to show you that you could have the attention you want. Don't settle for the first pretty face that someone approves of. Sometimes….” She moaned as his fingers pinched her pierced nipple through the lace of her bra. “Sometimes you’ve got to be reminded of the things you could have.”

Harry was in a trance. He’d barely had a sip of his drink, having been too enthralled with her on the stage. His friends must have noticed it, and he hadn’t even been sure considering he had stared her whole set. Tipped most of his cash he’d taken out. At one cold sober, and he couldn’t even blame it on anything but his own mind. He hadn’t allowed himself to look at other women, tried desperately to make this work and be faithful but fuck, he was losing. Her supple ass moved against his cock, his fingers plucked her nipple as she was giving him an in.

“And how am I going to be reminded of that?” He was going to regret this, probably. When he woke up tomorrow and the adrenaline had faded… or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe his mind would be as clear like he had been dying to have it.

“Like this.” She hummed. “Let yourself do what you want with me, Harry. If you do decide to go through with it… if you cuff yourself to that woman, as lovely as she may be… you’ll have had one final night of freedom.” Her voice was a purr. “Let me take care of you.”

It scared him. Being locked into a relationship he knew he wasn’t going to be fully satisfied with… it wasn’t what anyone wanted, but he felt a little trapped. He’d settled, he knew that, but it hadn’t been so obvious to him until a woman he was truly attracted to came and ruined his plans. It wasn’t fair to put this on her, but it was like looking at his decision for what it was. A mistake.

He wished he could be stronger. He wished he had more resolve, that his prick wasn’t leaking in his pants as he palmed her tits, that he stopped her from sinking to her knees and undoing the belt his fiancè had bought him for his birthday, that he didn’t raise his hips and help her pull his pants down. He wished he could say he didn’t groan in satisfaction as her hot little tongue ran up the length of his cock, from his sac to his tip with a filthy little giggle, but he did it anyways.

“Fuck…” she cooed. “Such a pretty cock, Harry.” Her words were murmured as she lapped over the leaking slit. “I’m going to take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing, okay?” She took his hand and pulled it to her hair. “I’ll pinch your thigh if I need to stop for a second. Let go of all that worry and let me take care of you.”

The guilt that had still tried to roll around in his stomach began to dissipate yet again as she sunk her head down on his length. Taking him down, showing off her skills as he felt the tip of his cock in back of her fucking throat. His mouth fell open as he looked down, feeling her nose brush his tummy before she pulled up, saliva stringing to her lips as she sent him a filthy grin. Harry hadn’t felt that in ages, his fiancè more gentle with the way she gave oral- refined. She didn’t like to do it much anyways which- it was fine. Everyone had their preferences. But fuck, when she spit thickly on his cock and used her hand to stroke and smear it all over, he remembered just how much he missed a sloppy blowie. How much he missed the animalistic desire, when a person would be so eager to please that they’d put their all into it.

“Shit.” He hissed through his teeth. “That’s good.” The words fell from his tongue without a second thought and her eyes brightened as she sucked the tip back into her mouth. The soft squelch of her wet hand stroking him was audible, sucking firm on the ruddy tip and her tongue brushed the slit, making his breathing quicken. He was only a few minutes into it and it was the best head he’d ever had. “Take more.”

The Angel on her knees simply looked up at him, putting her clean hand on his on the back of her head and motioning for him to push.

Fuck.

“You- You want me to fuck your mouth.” He rasped, watching as she nodded, humming the best she could around him. How could he say no to that? When his prick was dripping for her and her hand was firmly stroking over the base. He held her hair in his hand, slowly pushing her down as he watched. Her red lips had smeared on his cock and his stomach and he knew he’d need to wash up before he got home and his clueless fiancè possibly saw, but it sent a thrill up his spine. Watching her stretched lips sink all the way down, marveling at how she took it with only a few gags- he was in his own version of heaven.

“Christ, you’re good at that.” He grit his teeth, pulling her up slightly before pushing her back down. “Let me know when you need to breathe. Fuck, it’s been so long.” His head rolled back on the chair, lifting his hips slightly as he felt her throat flex. She was drooling around him, letting out noises that vibrated against him and added to the pleasure. It was disgusting, filthy, so fucking wrong- and yet he was obsessed.

She sat like a good girl, even though she was being a filthy whore for him, her free hand gently dragging her nails over his inner thigh. It made him fucking crazy, hissing as he really fucked into her throat. She’d feel it tomorrow, she’d remember taking his spoken for prick into her mouth and changing his whole fucking world view. “Such a good slut for me. Can’t believe you’re taking all of this, fucking Angel.” He slurred, rutting up into her face as she let out little gags and fueled his arousal.

Giving her a chance to breathe, he relished in the choked sound she let out as he pulled out of her mouth. She panted, pulling on his length before spitting on him. The girl was a fucking wreck, eyes wet with tears and chin dripping with spit but she looked happier than he’d ever seen anyone else taking his cock. It made him think about how she’d never seemed this happy to pleasure him. It was done, of course, but it seemed like a chore. This girl, Angel, which he doubted was her real name- she was enjoying every bit of it. Loving it. “You like sucking me off, don’t you?” He thumbed away some of the mess.

“I love it.” She admitted, turning her head to press a kiss over his thumb. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to suck a pretty cock. None have been as good as yours.” The girl’s voice was wrecked and it did something to him, the most primal part. “Is this all you want, sir?” Her eyes gazed into his own. “Did you want to cum into my throat? Or….” She tilted her head. “Did you want to do more to me?” Her eyes fluttered as she gave him a soft, coy little look that made his prick twitch in her hand. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

The man didn’t even know that was an option. Honestly- he shouldn’t. This was bad enough. He was cheating, he was fucking up massively, but he couldn’t deny he was drawn to this woman. This beautiful stripper who had given him the most glorious head and let him fuck into her throat. It would be wrong to fuck her. So fucked up, so awful to do this and crawl back into bed with Savannah when he got home- but he couldn’t say no. He really, really needed this.

“I want to know your real name before I fuck you.” He decided, sealing his fate as an awful- but sexually satisfied- person.

“Y/N.” She mumbled, moving up his body. “But don’t tell anyone else, yeah? I like you…” her lips brushed against his own. “So I’m going to let you do awful, filthy things to me. The stuff the girl at home won’t let you do.” The side took the lead again and took his hand, cupping it over his cunt. “Don’t waste a tight, hot cunt that’s wet for you. Or… my ass.” She purred. “It’s all up to you. I’m open to anything with a cock like that.”

Harry moved in a blur. A double check she was okay with it, a condom being produced from the side drawer that she slipped on his cock and her body climbing on top of his, he couldn’t really find a way to stop himself when the mere sight of her had changed his plans, ruined his mental resolve. Her panties yanked to the side, her slick cunt wasted no time. He’d offered to prep her but she shook her head, telling him she wanted the stretch- and he wasn’t going to tell this girl no.

His mouth fell open as he groaned, watching her cunt spread for him. He had a front row seat as she sat herself on top of his cock, watching it fill her up. She whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders as her tummy jumped at the sharp breaths, but she never stopped. Slowly taking him in, she engulfed him and covered him in that tight, sopping heat that he had been desperate for. She was much tighter than the woman he had waiting for him at home, and the thought only spurred him on. “Fuck me… you’re so tight.” He hissed, hands gripping her ass tight. His marks would be visible on her. She’d stumble home and go to sleep, wake up with the reminder of his cock in her and his hands on her- but he couldn’t have the same. He wished he could, though he doubted he could ever forget this.

“Just for you.” She purred, pushing him to lean back against the chair. Fully sat on him, she began to grind over him. Whimpering as her clit brushed his stomach, looking at his face as his eyes were moving from where they were connected and her face. He looked almost like he was in pain, but she knew it was pleasure. Getting used to feeling her around him. The girl knew it was wrong to do this, but she never claimed to be a saint. A man as sexy as him should be positive about who he was marrying, because god knew he could get anyone he wanted. “Is that what you needed, Harry? Needed a tight cunt wrapped around your big cock?” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Testing her limits.

Everything about this was wrong, but it had never felt so right being inside of a woman. Feeling her squeeze him as she rocked back and forth in his lap, her breasts brushing his chest and her lips nearing his. He knew kissing her would be the final nail in the coffin, the last straw, there would be no turning back or controlling his urges. But he knew she was the one in control at the moment and he was at the mercy of the beautiful woman and the needs of his leaking cock. “So fucking good, baby.” He panted. “S’all I needed.”

Y/N beamed, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back before connecting their lips. And that was game over for Harry.

He gave in. Submitting to his desires, the last tiny droplet of guilt drying up like water on a hot pan. Sizzling away as the arousal burned hot in his gut, his balls tight and full as she began to lift herself up and down on his prick and her tongue entered his mouth. Sweet like cherry vanilla, moaning into his mouth as she fucked herself on his cock like she owned it. Hell- he had to admit that tonight, she did own it. She was giving him everything that he had been dying for, begging for, but couldn’t have. He’d settled without it for a while but this was the reminder that it could be better- he could have better.

She was so fucking wet. Harry’d never felt pussy like this before, not with it dripping down to his balls and smearing over his stomach as she whimpered against his mouth. Her hand held his hair and tugged, making him growl against her mouth as he began to fuck into her. Sinking down further into the chair with his feet firm on the ground, bucking into her welcoming, sopping hole as she let out little noises against his mouth.

“Take me.” She taunted through breaths. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you’ve been needing.” Lips dragged across his own and he could feel her smile. “She doesn’t give it to you like this, does she?” Her hand pulled harder at the nape of his neck, making him grit his teeth. “Doesn’t suck you nice and messy, doesn’t let you take her pussy like this? How could she waste such a gorgeous cock…” her other hand clenched down on his shoulder, a squeak leaving her as Harry’s hand came down roughly on her ass. “Oh, fuck. She doesn’t let you do that either, does she?” The girl had nerve to giggle against him, suckling on his bottom lip as he snarled. “Do it again, baby. Hit me.”

Harry felt like he could pass out. Fucking into her cunt without reservation, her filthy words fanning the flames of his arousal and dousing any possible guilt even just talking about her, she told him to smack her ass again. So he did. He didn’t hold back, feeling the sting in his hand but also noticing how she got even more soaked as his length pistoned into her, how she let out a string of low curses before tugging his hair harsher. “Again.” She growled. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you can’t do to her. Are you going to lock down this perfect cock on someone who can’t use it right?” Y/N was pushing boundaries but she was getting what she wanted, another rough spank that she was sure would bruise.

“Yes, yes- you know I’m right.” A giggle of disbelief filled the room, along with the slap of wet skin. “You could have pussy whenever you want. Don’t-don’t tie yourself to someone you can’t pound like a slut. That’s what you’ve been needing, isn’t it? Pussy better than that frigid bitch of a wannabe wife-“ the words were cut off as Harry took control. Turning them around, he stuffed her face into the cushy back of the chair and lifted her hips up, making her scramble to hold on to the chair as he slammed back in.

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, tugging her head to the side so she could breathe but holding on the side of her head so she stayed put. “Just shut up and take my cock like the good little whore you claim to be. Fucking slut.” He smacked her ass again, smiling to himself at the fucked out smile on her face. This was the nasty shit he’d been holding back, no outlet to put it in. It was pathetic, he knew it, not going after what he wanted- but this was a wake up call. Women like Y/N existed. Who wanted it just like he did, who taunted and craved and let themself get messy. Didn’t worry about bruises, who asked for it harder. This was his dream woman, if he was being honest.

“Sorry, Daddy.” She whined. “I’ll be good for you. Just don’t stop fucking me. I’m gonna cum.” It wasn’t a secret. He could feel it, feel her beginning to pulse around his length as he railed her. He was in her stomach, fucking her deep and she took every inch. The thought lingered in his mind, thinking about how an hour wasn’t enough. He needed more of this. He wanted to take his time, to make her whimpery and wobbly in the knees. Make her fall out of work the next day. It wasn’t something he thought she did, but if she would allow it he knew he was going to pay her for every second. He’d been depriving himself of everything he wanted for the idea of a picture perfect life, for what people thought he should have. “You’re going to make me cum…” the warning was higher pitched, her eyes watering.

“I can feel it. God, can’t believe how lucky I’ve got it. Perfect little slut for my cock.” The chair was hitting the wall but the pumping music outside muffled it. His balls smacked against her clit, getting wet with each thrust and making her legs quiver. The girl’s fingers held tightly to the chair he was fucking her into, body lax and giving him then ability to do whatever he needed. “Maybe I’ll come back and take this pussy again. Would you like that? Like being a nasty fuck like this, ruining my plans?”

“Yes- yes, don’t keep this dick away from me, Harry. I’ll do anything to have it again.” She was cockdrunk and he knew she may not mean it, but it was what he needed to hear. Y/N was doing what he’d needed to have months ago, providing him the mental clarity to see he was making a massive mistake if he went through with this. “She doesn’t have to know. I’ll be quiet, please- come back and see me. Shit.” Her hand hit the fabric, eyes hooded as he gave her what she needed in return. “Or don’t go th-through with it. I can give you what you need- oh my god.” Her words were interrupted by him spreading her open and spitting right over her hole, thumbing over her ass. “Yes. Yes- please, do it.”

Harry was in awe of her, pressing into the needy girl’s ass with his thumb and watching as her mouth dropped open. It was a domino effect after that. Pushing his thumb in and pulling it out only once before filling her back up, she began to shake under him before letting out a choked moan of his name- she came. Wet and hot, gushing slightly around his cock and making a mess as she came, slick and perfect for him.

He wished he had more willpower, but it had been so long since he’d fucked properly. Seeing her whine and reach back, finding his arm and digging her nails into his forearm and cumming like a mess around his cock, he was quick to follow. It surprised him how intense it was. Feeling her pulsating hole trying to milk him of every drop, he growled loudly and sloppily thrust into her, looking at the creamy cunt as he unloaded into the condom. His legs felt weak as he slowed his thrusts, breathing heavy and sweat covering his forehead as he looked down at the view under him.

His dick sheathed by the best pussy he’d ever had, her ass snug up against his body and her blissed out face looking back at him. He was a mess, one that he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone without making it abundantly clear about what happened, but this was the best he’d felt in months.

“You okay?” He asked softly, stroking the hair out of her face. “Went rough on you.” His knuckle brushed away the trail of tears. It did something for his ego, he knew, and this would be something he remembered forever. The most beautiful woman looking at him like he’d hung the damn moon. He’d done that to her. It filled him with pride. This was the feeling he was supposed to have after sex. That feeling he’d been going crazy searching for. Not the slight disappointment as soon as the lackluster orgasm faded. Savannah wasn’t a bad woman, not at all- but she wasn’t right for him.

“I’m fucking perfect.” She breathed out, shaking her head. “Just- don’t pull out yet. I need a minute.” Her voice was weaker now as she slumped against the chair, Harry following suit. Pressing himself against her back, he took the lead and kissed her again, humming at the taste of him and cherry vanilla on her lips. “Are you going to come back and see me?” She mumbled as he pulled back a bit.

“I’d like to, yeah.” He laughed breathlessly. “Have some things to break off but… I’d love your number, if that’s something you’d be comfortable with.” If he didn’t do this again, he thinks he may die. Dramatic, but his life was changed. “Mmm…”’she hummed. “I don’t usually do that, but I’ll make another exception for you.”

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subcultureblues · 12 days ago

Text

Don't You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 2

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

———

Dustin was criss cross on the couch the next day eating a rainbow of cereal and watching Saturday morning cartoons when he saw it.

“What’s that?” He said, taking the morning paper right out from under his mother’s nose.

“Dusty!” She chided, sitting up in her recliner. “I was just getting to my horoscope.”

“Sorry, mom.” He said distantly. He read over the ad again and his grew ear to ear. This was too perfect!

Eddie’s been too busy with his dumb girlfriend to hang out with them in forever.

Well, there might be no better way to reel him back in than a Creature from The Black Lagoon re-run. Ok, it was at the drive through a town over - but Eddie literally can’t say no! He loved classic horror (even after everything they’d seen in living color.)

Dustin kept the outer page and returned the rest.

“Thanks mom! Also, Cancer’s should keep an eye out for big opportunities on the horizon.” He yelled back over his shoulder as he ran over to the phone. He paused as listen to the line ring. “And let their kid go out with his friends tonight!”

“Now where does it say that…” His mom tutted, far too used to Dustin’s Dustining to be surprised by almost anything.

“Come on…” Dustin mumbled impatiently on the fifth or sixth ring.

“Wayne here.”

“Hi Mr. Munson! It’s Dustin Henderson, is Eddie there?”

“Eds, it’s for you.” Kind of surprising his uncle was up at this hour. Usually he was sleeping in to prepare for the next nightshift. Maybe he got the rare weekend off. Good for him.

“You’ve reached The Dark Lord Baelzabub’s office, can I take a message?”

“Eddie! Right! So!” Dustin ignored him, already shooting off at 60 miles an hour. “There’s this thing going on, it’s tonight - and I swear, your gonna be off the wall when you hear about it cause they never have good stuff on out here - “ Eddie cut him off.

“Woah, there. You said tonight? Cause no can do compadre.”

“But!” Dustin sputtered. “You’re not gonna wanna miss this Eddie I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, little man. Can we do uh, I could do tomorrow. Wait actually shit, not tomorrow.”

“No, we can’t - it’s only happening tonight, if you’ll just let me tell you what it - “

“Sorry, man. I’m not gonna make it. I’m uh, I’m -“ he sighed.

“Busy.” That fucking Judas…..

“Yeeeeah. Look Henderson, I’m sorry. I’ll catch the next one ok, man. I promise.“

“Right. Yeah.” Dustin wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t.

They didn’t stay on the line long. He sighed and glared at the phone. Fuck it, fuck Eddie - they were still going. And then next week at Hellfire when Eddie asked about they’re weekend they’ll tell him how awesome it was and how much fun they had without him. Then he’ll regret blowing Dustin off.

He picked up the phone again.

“Harrington residence.” Oh right, Steve’s alleged parents were in town.

“Uh, hi. It’s Dustin Henderson. Can I talk to Steve. Please.” He said, only just managing to remember his manners.

“Steve, honey, your little friends on the phone.” Mrs. Harrington said.

“Hey man, what’s up. Wait, I’m gonna stop you right now. No I can’t give you a ride.”

Dustin sputtered indignantly.

“What you just assume I only call you when I need a favor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You just called to say hi.” Steve corrected himself. Then he paused, clearly waiting.

“Yeah.” Dustin huffed. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Steve repeated pleasantly.

“So uh, how’s uh, how the uh,” Dustin’s eyes darted around the room trying to latch onto something via image/word association. He made eye contact with the portrait of a calico tabby his mother had needle pointed into a throw pillow. “- your cat?”

“How’s your cat?” Steve shot back.

“Hey, woah, low blow!”

“So is this call a welfare check for my nonexistent cat or?”

“No! I, uh - your parents! They’re in town - “

“Dustin.”

“Well… - Look, ok so I thought wouldn’t Steve enjoy if we all went out tonight and - “

“And there it is. Look, I already got plans tonight: So...”

“You too?” Double Judas!

Steve had said all his weekend plans were canceled since his parents were at the house!

“Yeah, well, the plan changed.” Dustin was running out of chauffeurs…

After a minute of huffing, he called Will. At least he seemed properly enthusiastic.

“One thing though. How are we supposed get all the way out there?”

“You’re gonna get Jonathan to drive us.” Dustin said confidently. Will however, hesitated.

“I’m not sure. I think he said he was going on a date with Nancy tonight.”

“Seriously?” Dustin huffed. “Jesus Christ. Well, you’re gonna convince him then.”

“I dunno.”

“Come on, Will. We’re counting on you here. All our licensed friends have betrayed and abandoned us. You gotta come through on this.” Will didn’t say anything. “Just pull the kidnapped by monsters card! Right? Say the creature feature will be therapeutic, or something!”

“Fine. I’ll ask.” Will sighed.

Will could be convincing when he needed to be. Thing is, he didn’t even really have to try. It was those damned puppy dog eyes. That’s what got Dustin, Mike, and Will in the back seat of Jonathan’s Lincoln.

They invited Lucas but he couldn’t make it after coming down with a bad case of relatives-in-town. It turned out for the best considering Nancy was occupying the passenger seat. Looking beleaguered.

Jonathan found a spot with a decent view and put the vehicle in park. He looked over to his girlfriend with a forced optimism.

“See? Not so bad.”

Nancy smiled tightly, looking at the adolescents crammed into the back. Mike made a face at her, and because it was genetically hardwired into them both, she returned it.

“Uh huh. Romantic.” She said, turning around to watch the opening credits. Will had told Dustin they were on the rocks. He might even feel a little bit guilty for intruding on date night but they were short on options here.

“Can we get snacks?” Mike asked Jonathan.

“Uh, sure. We can go over there. Did your uh, parents give you money for snacks?” Jonathan said.

Dustin and Mike shook their heads.

“Oh uh…” Jonathan fumbled with his wallet, shifting around in the coin pouch. Will very quietly looked at his shoes. Mike seemed to notice because had opened his mouth like he was about to say something to him. But then after a pause, turned back to the front.

“Actually, Jonathan got us slushies last time.” Mike said loudly.

“And he gave us money for the arcade the other week.” Dustin said, picking up quickly.

“Yeah, it’s not his turn to pay.” Mike said.

Will’s seemed to relax a little, his shoulders becoming not so tightly hunched.

“Oh. Ok.” Jonathan said, obviously somewhat relieved himself.

“It’s your turn.” Mike said, kicking that back of Nancy’s chair.

“Excuse me?” She said, turning to glare at him.

“It’s your turn to pay for the snacks. Come on, you have a job.”

“I’m not your babysitter.” She rolled her eyes. She decisively turned her back to them again.

“We should have gone with Eddie.” Mike whispered.

“Yeah well he’s, busy.” Dustin whispered back, making air quote finger bunnies. “Besides, that guy barely has money for gas. Steve wouldn’t let us starve though.”

Mike huffed, rolling his eyes at the mere mention of the guy.

Dustin settled back into his seat, looking out the window at a couple passing their car on the way back from the concession stand. He could smell the popcorn in their bucket.

Wait a minute. Is that -

No fucking way. Speak of the devil, I guess…

Dustin peered across the rows and yup, that was Eddie’s van. Hard to mistake that piece of junk for anything else that passed for road legal.

“That fucking bastard!” Dustin whispered.

‘Busy.’ Right. Busy going out to see a movie - without Dustin!

And also the rest of the party.

“Hey where are you going?” Mike said, but Dustin was already out of the car.

Mike and Will scrambled to follow him.

“Wait, where are you guys- “ Jonathan’s reaction time was a bit slow.

“They’re fine.” Nancy said.

“Ok just don’t be gone too long.” Jonathan said, ineffectually.

“Where are we going?” Mike said.

“Look.” Dustin gestured at the van, positively aggrevied.

Dustin stomped over. He could see through the window from there. Nobody was even in the front. He ditched them to come see a movie he couldn’t be bother to actually watch. Now that really grinded his gears. It was with righteous fury he banged his fist against the side of the van.

Dustin cracked a satisfied smile when he heard a yelp and the metal sounds of someone banging around in the back.

“Watch this.” He whispered. Then he dropped his voice a few octaves and with an Oscar worthy Hopper Impersonation said, “This is the police. We know what you’ve been up to.”

Mike had to bury a snicker behind his hands.

“Hey man, I know my rights - “ Eddie cracked the back door, sticking his head out. His eyes grew very wide. “Oh you can not be fucking serious….?”

Dustin couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh man, your face!” All threes boys, even Will, were snickering. At least until they heard -

“Dustin?!” From behind Eddie came an unmistakably shrill voice, positively scandalized.

Eddie grimaced. He turned his head slowly to look back over his shoulder.

“Um. Yep. Dustin. And company.”

“What the - Is that Steve?” Mike said, rather scandalized himself.

Begrudgingly, Eddie let the door swing open, revealing Steve in the back of the van sitting on a mattress and a pile of blankets.

“What? Since when do you two hang out - !“ Mike sputtered, throwing his hands up like this was a most unforeseen betrayal.

Mike fully bought into Eddie’s hype. Which makes sense. Eddie was cool as hell. But much as Dustin’s tried to set him straight, Steve dated Mike’s sister. Those two forever were destined to be adversaries as far as he was concerned.

Steve kind of just thought Mike was a shithead.

Sure if you ask Mike, he considered Steve like ‘terminally uncool’, and that was a direct quote. Way too uncool to be friends with Eddie Munson of all people.

Dustin’s been trying to push this friendship for almost a year at this point, to absolutely no avail.

So. Actually Mike kinda had a point there.

“Yeah, since when do you two hang out -“

“We don’t!” Steve said quickly.

“- without us.” Dustin frowned.

“What are you guys doing all the way out here? Away from Hawkins. Like just, so far away from Hawkins.” Eddie said, smiling uncomfortably wide. His eyes were shifting warily between the party and Steve, like he was watching the world’s most invisible ping pong tournament.

“It’s not that far.” Steve muttered. Eddie almost looked guilty the way he was chewing on his lip.

And Steve looked, well… honestly Steve looked caught red handed. For what? Dustin had no fucking idea.

Dustin narrowed his eyes. Steve was bright red, his hair was a mess (highly suspect), he was wearing his favorite polo but it was all untucked and disheveled. He was blinking up at them, mouth open like he was struggling for words.

“I don’t believe it…” Dustin said. He sniffed the air, a bloodhound on the trail. “You two were…”. The older boy’s eyes grew wide. “Smoking weed!”

Eddie deflated, dropping his head. “You caught us.” He said, monotone. He pressed a hand roughly to the side of his face, leaning his elbow on his thigh and looking up at them with his one visible eye. “We secreted away to smoke some fresh schedule 1. Please don’t tell Mrs. Reagan.”

Steve did a little angry scoff. Eddie lifted his head just enough to peer through his bangs and see the pissy look Steve was giving him. Eddie threw up his palms, with a wide eyed and beleaguered flinch. Clearly telegraphing a defensive, what?

“Since when do you smoke weed.” Mike asked. Because obviously Steve wasn’t cool enough for that either.

“I peer pressured him into it.” Eddie stage whispered, wiggling his fingers in villainous glee.

Steve rolled his eyes. Dustin was like 95% sure that was total bullshit. Because he was almost 100% sure Steve already smoked some. Dustin’s been in Jonathan’s car before, of course he’s gonna know what weed smells like. He’ll catch a whiff of it on Steve every now and again, especially these last few weeks.

These guys still try to hide stuff from them like they’re little kids.

But also, Eddie’s clearly just trying to keep the mood light considering how flustered Steve looks about getting caught with the stuff.

“Remember kids, just say no. Unless your bad influence has as high quality stuff as I do in which case -“

Steve kicked out his foot knocking Eddie in the thigh.

“Say - no thank you.” He finished passive aggressively, as if Steve should’ve had more faith he would stick the landing. “Just. How’d you guys even get out here anyway?”

“Jonathan and Nancy drove us.”

“Nancy’s here?” Steve sat up quickly, straightening to look past all their heads.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. He grinned at Steve with his canines, slowly shaking his head. As if the van didn’t smell bad enough, he took out a pack of smokes.

“What?” Steve huffed. Eddie leaned against the wall of the van, one shoe dangling out brushing the ground.

“I didn’t say anything.” Eddie’s words were garbled between the cigarette he was lighting.

Dustin took a step back, looking at Mike and Will. They too, seemed to pick up on the overall bazaar energy these two were giving off.

Honestly Dustin ��plan’ had been to march over here, make Eddie feel bad for blowing them off, then maybe asking if they could hang out with him for the rest of the movie. Probably guilt him into buying them snacks.

Dustin wasn’t happy about being ditched, but he’d wanted to come see this movie with Eddie. He could be mad at the guy later.

Now though, he was thinking Nancy and Jonathan’s weird couple energy would be preferable to this, whatever this is.

“Riiiiiiiight.” Dustin jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re gonna - we’re going.”

They made it maybe 5 steps, but Eddie was ever insitant he have the last word.

“Hey shitheads. Don’t mention Harrington here, if you can help it.” He plucked the cigarette from his mouth, using the hand to cup his mouth away from Steve. He stage-whispered, “He doesn’t want Miss Priss to know he’s been experimenting with - the devil’s lettuce.” He added a lot of drama to that last bit, like he was telling a spooky ghost story. Not talking about like, pot.

“Eddie.” Steve said. Eddie ignored him.

“You guys run along now. Pay attention yeah, this one’s a classic.” He gestured vaguely behind him with his cigarette. “It’ll be on the quiz. And I expect your report on my desk Monday morning.”

They said their goodbyes again, and wandered off. When they got back to the Lincoln, Jonathan had his arm around Nancy and she was leaning her head against his chest.

Dustin took a brief second to ponder over what the hell Nancy and Jonathan’s deal even was these days…

“Hey guys.” He said, neck bending to look over his shoulder at an awkward angle so as not to jostle his girlfriend. “That Eddie’s van?”

“Uh-huh.” Will said.

“You should tell him to pull up. Or something.”

“You are not doing that right now.” Nancy muttered. “The kids are here.”

“What? I wasn’t -“ Jonathan protested. It wasn’t very convincing.

“Nah he’s uh,” Dustin wasn’t gonna call Steve out, not if he seemed actually upset that he’d been ‘caught’ doing drugs. “Eddie’s - he’s… on a date.” He said. Will nodded, because he also tended to catch on pretty quick. Even Mike shrugged in placid agreement.

“Huh.” Jonathan said, landing somewhere between surprised, impressed, and all together apathetic. “Good for him, I guess.”

Friends don’t lie, sure. Except sometimes. When friends lie for their friends.

Wait a minute. Dustin squinted at the back of Jonathan’s head. Does Jonathan buy drugs from Eddie often? It was a long shot, but maybe Eddie and Jonathan have secret smoke sessions too.

“Do you know who Eddie’s girlfriend is?” Dustin tried.

“Hmmm? Girlfriend?” Jonathan said distractedly, eyes on the screen. “Uh, no, no I don’t think I’ve met her.”

Dustin huffed, frustrated, sinking back into his seat once again. Feeling thwarted.

By the time the movie was finished and they were lining up with the other cars towards the exit, the shitbox van was nowhere to be seen.

So imagine Dustin’s surprise when he gets a call around 10 am and Eddie’s on the line asking if he wants to come by and hang out.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been telling you I’d help you out on this one shot you’re trying to run for weeks now.”

“I thought you were busy today?” Dustin inquired. Hesitant. As if just waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him.

“Nope. No, uh, not anymore. Those plans got,” Eddie cleared his throat, “scrapped. Don’t worry about it. Are you coming over or not?”

“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and sprinted to his room to get gather his notes.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987 @the-legal-shipper @maverickricky @i-amthepizzaman @pretend-theres-a-name-here @steddiefication @that-one-gay-crow @gleek4twd @theintrovertedintrovert @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @queercrisis2003 @two-vampires-kissing @awkwardgravity1 @stripey82

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#steddie #steddie fic #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #stranger things #idk if you can tell but even though Eddie’s pissy and jealous he wants to protect Stevie’s feelings #don’t mention he’s here hanging out with me. even though I HATE he doesn’t want you to mention he’s hanging out w me #got my Eddie playlist on for this one boys #gonna TRY to get part 3 out tomorrow we’ll see I guess #also PLEASE we not not forget that Dustin lying (but also really not lying) about Eddie being on a date here #is going to cause just. so much unforeseen mayhem #someone stop this kid

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okwonyo · 2 months ago

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（标题） A QUIET LOVE.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡⠀sweet whispers exchanged in a library.

( 엔하이픈 정원 ) ୨୧ f .. r 5OO fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

지아 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒ㅤ for @amouriu 🎀

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

the first thing you feel when you regain consciousness, one step out of the dream world, is the warm feeling of the autumn’s sun resting on your cheek. it contrasts with the cold outside that somehow enters into the warmth shared between all those bookshelves.

you don’t really know how or when you fell asleep on that table. only your eyes going back and forth behind your closed eyelids seem to look for something. your brain, however, daydreams about those soft fingertips massaging your skull and the scent of its owner all around the place.

the person’s voice is soft and teasing, you can remember it lulling you to sleep. the last thing you saw, will forever be engraved in your mind— that cat-like smile, those dimples and big dark eyes.

when your eyelids finally open you are met with the eyes you that can't get out of your mind staring right back at you and your heart jumps in your chest.

the sun rays somehow reach them, enlightening the pretty colors of these iris.

then all of it comes in a flash, the initial studying, then the cookie you shared, the book you read and the kiss he gave you after you groaned and laid your forehead on the wooden furniture.

and now, here you are seeing jungwon upside down.

“hi,” he says quietly, before removing a stray hair from your face.

the movement is as gentle as the face of who it comes from. it sort of gets you starstruck— your breath catches, your eyes feel like they are shining and your cheeks are getting warmer by the second.

it is always so easy for jungwon to get you nervous without doing much, like some kind of godforsaken wizard.

you consistently feel like a middle schooler talking to her crush when you respond. avoidant, shy and even a little mean, if it wasn’t for the obvious smile on your face and fondness in your voice.

“were you watching me sleep?” you ask him, and he giggles like it won’t make your whole stomach swirl.

he says nothing. although his palm tenderly cups somewhere around your cheek. you close your eyes when you see him tilting his chin so his lips can reach your forehead, he plants a loving kiss on it.

his warm palm leaves its place to the sun again and his eyes meet yours one more time, he looks silly from upside down, “you looked so peaceful,” he tells you. it feels really intimate with his face being a bit pink like yours. “i couldn’t get my eyes away from you.”

he is way too close to say anything like that without the surface of your face burning.

you could do so many things right now. like kissing him or telling him that he is so beautiful that you are pretty sure he is the only thing you see in your dreams at night.

but jungwon wouldn’t love you if you weren’t you. and who you are is someone who, before telling your boyfriend how much you love him, will whisper, “you are such a creep,”

(then, kiss him.)

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.

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shortkinglogan · 1 month ago

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Thank you @alsoprettyinpink for tagging me!

Had to go into my old phone, all I had on this one was wolverine.

Most of these shouldn't need explining

I like to bake, those are bagels I made with fresh blueberries my sister picked.

There's also on old drawing I did of my first fursona, her name is Soda, a picture I took when kayaking in Kentucky.

Then there's my favorite picture of my pig shenzi, she's a pug-pit, and the cutest little ball of energy even at 15, she's my baby, and a good girl, and she potties with a leg up shes so silly and I could talk about her forever.

@loganspillowprincess Your turn

describe myself in pictures from my phone, no new downloads

tysm for the tag @sceletaflores !! this was so fun >:3

no pressure tags: @alsoprettyinpink @thatpurpleraccoon @joelsgoldrush @g0ry0re0 @thinkinonsense

#i live with my sister and theres another dog and also a cat and as much as i love them they arent mine #alao shenzi has service dog instincts but 0 training and is trying to demand attention or fight everything so she not good in the public #but she has notified me my bf and bff of different helth issues and once i cought on it has saved us so much issues #from my friends sezures being notified to my blood pressure issues idk what id do without her #im high forgive me #i did say i could talk forever about her #this was fun #idk what wlse to tag #my art #fml im outa it today #getting sick i think

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superstarcherrycolagirl · 5 months ago

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i might as well be drunk in love

“slut!” by taylor swift

benny cross x fem!reader / 1.4k words

idea: you’re drunk, and benny takes care of you after a long night out

tw: drinking, swearing, so fluffy it’s sickening

notes: this is my first big piece that I’ve wrote and omg it took FOREVER !! i haven’t been able to stop thinking about “the bikeriders” she literally consumes my every waking thought AHH !! anyway i hope you guys enjoy reading this:))

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

it’s just about 4 in the morning and you and benny just made it back home to your place. you’d been so busy this week due to picking up more shifts at the library so you would be able to pay off the rent by the end of the month, groceries, and afford to buy a little more thread to stitch up a pair of your jeans and the large tear on bennys jacket. not only was that stressful, but throughout the week you had to deal with some grouchy elderly women, preverted college boys (‘pinkos’ as zipco would call them), and multiple groups of chaotic elementary school students who were checking out their books for the semester, and only to have a slice of toast, scorching hot coffee with no milk OR sugar, and fucking prayer holding you together. so yes, this night out was a well deserved one. but who’s kidding? you needed that shit! now here you are, barely getting up the stairs to your apartment as benny holds onto you for dear life.

as you both stood outside of your apartment door, benny began digging for his copy of keys in his pocket while leaning you up against his side and adjusting his hold on your hip. he draped his jacket over you before you hopped onto his bike to head home, leaving him in his tattered sleeveless black shirt against the cold chicago air.

“sorry baby, turns out the key were in the other po-“ “y’arms are so pretty honey.. like-i like how they feel ‘round me” you cut him off with slurred words as you drunkenly gazed up at him.

“can’t believe i get to see them all t’time, for m’self, a-and nobody else gets ta have ‘em but me.. a’like when they hold me when it’s real cold..o-or hot.. or ‘round the pillows or the flowers ya get me.. or when ya’ cuddlin’ lula.. oh i hope she’s not t’cold, v’missed her so much.. she’s probably sad that her mama and daddy were gone all night-“ at this point benny could only chuckle as his girl jumped from talking about his arms to their sweet black cat lula, it made his heart swell.

once he got you into your apartment he began walking you straight towards your bed, as your giggles and drunk thoughts echoed down the hallway “no b-benny i don’t wanna t’sleep yet, i wanna watch t’bakin’ show on channel 6, they be makin some.. some of them valen..tines treats a-and i wanna try” you began to whine as benny sat you down at the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you as he begins unbuckling the straps of your red kitten heels “yeah we can watch some baby, d’worry, jus’ wanna getcha out of these ‘nd this dress” “thought ‘ya liked me in this dress? grabbed these heels to match with em’” you said sadly, your eyes starting to droop.

benny looked up at you and could see the slight pout on your face, so he moved his left hand to caress your thigh “oh y’know i love this dress, but that tiny little nightie a’yours, that pretty pink flower in the middle that barely covers you up, takes the cake for me” he says as he moves closer to you “re-eally?” “yeah baby, she’s m’favorite” his voice gets muffled as he places some kisses on the tops of your thighs, still looking right back up at your sleepy eyes “but i love everythin’ that you wear.. especially when you wear nothing” he says with a smirk on his face, and had stopped your whining and shut you up instantly.

after getting your heels off benny helps you stand up to start taking off your clothes. the jacket was first to go, as he tossed it on top of your vanity chair. he then pushed the straps of your red gingham dress down which slowly began to fall to the floor. you were left in the dainty lingerie set you’d picked out for the night; the blush pink fabric with the lacy details matching the drunken flush on your face. benny takes his time to get a look at you, rubbing his callused hands up and down your sides. he knows that all the shifts you’ve picked up and the deadlines of payments have been making you stressed, so he just wants to take care of you tonight, although it won’t come close to repay you for all the sacrifices you make for him.

after benny unclasped your bra, he swiftly moved to your side of the bed and grabbed your linen night gown “arms up for me baby” you obliged, sleepily raising your arms above your head you momentarily close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. but you felt something else. something running along your legs. was that fuzz? you didn’t wear socks with your heels tonight and benny already tossed your dress into the laundry bin. you were stumped until you heard a rumbling sound from beneath you. purring.

“oh lula! l-look honey s’lula! she’s purring up ‘gainst me!!” you gleamed to benny, as he too was receiving affection from lula. “she’s happy that her mama and daddy are back home, right honey? home?” benny ever so slightly teased, but out of love of his girls’ adorable rambles. “yeah. home” you said with a smile. now after changing benny walks you over to your side of the bed. he sat you down facing him, but paused briefly as he realized he forgot to take some of your jewelry off.

“one second mama, forgot to get this necklace and these hoops off, i know you sleepy but i’ll be quick” he said, quickly and gently taking them off “i told ya’ i ain’t sleepy.. gotta.. we gotta still watch our show ‘member?” “y’right baby, our show” a chuckle left his mouth; of course he remembered, but he wanted you to take the credit for remembering about it as you were fighting to stay awake. “what would i do without you baby? hmm?” “d’know ben-baby, but don’t worry, y.. ya’ have me” “and you have me baby. m’sweet baby” benny’s words became muffled as he held your jaw and kissed you deeply before placing your jewlery down on the nightstand. you were finally lying down after benny got you comfortable. he then quickly stripped down to his boxers and swapped his black shirt for a white wifebeater before joining you in bed.

just by looking at you he could tell that you were barely awake, but sticking to his word, he turned the tv onto channel 6, as clips of a dessert with chocolate and some kind of fruit in it come across the screen. strawberries? or raspberries? hell, cherries? he could not tell.

as the sounds of the baking show filled the room benny shifted you closer to him, so you could rest on his chest. “did you have a good time tonight baby? i know you’ve been excited about this meeting all week” he asked you softly. you let yourself finally close your eyes, knowing that it was okay to rest now “s’so fun.. ears are ringin’ a lil.. but had so fun with t’girls, and t’club,” benny notices that your sentences are making less sense as you are just moments away from knocking out, but he was able to make out one coherent sentence of yours before that “but i had t’most fun with ya’ tonight.. ya’ lit up m’whole night honey” seconds away from slipping into your own dream land, he had to admit, you saying that so effortlessly made his breath hitch in his throat. he didn’t have a care for anything outside the club until he met you, and you have completely flipped his life upside down because of it. it gave him meaning to ride home late at night knowing he was coming back home to you. it gave him purpose to always come back to you, regardless of what’s going on through his mind. you are there for him, you are there to care for him, laugh with him, cry with him, and to just love him for the person he is. you are there for him. you are it for him “and you light up my life baby, my light”

he reaches his hand over to turn off the little lamp on his side of the bed and when he turned his head back to look at you, you were fast asleep; soft snores leaving your mouth. he could only smile, knowing that you can get the deserved rest you’ve needed “love you so much sweet girl, with my whole heart” he kisses the top of your head as lula leaps onto the bed to join her mama and daddy for cuddles.

peace and quiet at last.

#hey yall..#im cooked #i just need a man #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader

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hwangism143 · 8 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 how skz would propose to you. 𓆩♡𓆪

BANG CHAN

he would invite you over (or sneak, i should say) to the studio for a date cuz you both do this all the time

sometimes, he plays you snippets of songs he's working on, other times, you're just talking the night away while getting some work done

anyways, today he's playing you one of his songs

you're just completely immersed in the music and when it ends the lingering feeling of wanting more is left behind

how could it not? the song was about spending an eternity with you

you're about to turn around and profess your love for chan for the millionth time when you see him

he's on one knee and lets out a choked, "i meant everything in that song. i didn't know what love was before i met you, but you have shown me love and so much more. marry me?"

ofc you say yes (i mean, i would) and just end up falling asleep on his couch

LEE MINHO

you guys go to your favorite cat cafe, and bring the kids (cats?) along with you too

suddenly, soonie comes along with a note stuck to her back - "will you be our parent? i mean, for real?"

you look at minho who's playing with the cats on the other side of the room, confused, but he doesn't see you

(actually, he's blushing like crazy and is too scared to make eye contact lmao)

that is until you walk over to him and give him a nudge

he's beaming at you (this boy istg) and gets down on one knee

"we can't let our kids be a part of a dysfunctional family. they another parent, and they love having you around. actually, no, they love you. and they wanna grow old with you. so. will you, uhm, marry me? their father?"

(pls im giggling at this myself)

SEO CHANGBIN

you guys are out on a date at a fancy restaurant and changbin's acting extra giggly

now mind you, this is seo changbin. extra giggly is far more than what you would imagine

you're finally done eating and slump against your chair when the server brings another plate of food

you look at changbin with a "bro. i'm full." but the bro in question is just looking at you.

you look down at the tray placed in front of you.

"will you marry me?" it says with a ring in the middle?

"be my permanent gym partner?" asks changbin hopefully

and you say yes (bcuz who in their right mind wouldn't ???)

HWANG HYUNJIN

we all know how extra this man is, so when he insists that you two go to the bookshop where you first met, you don't protest

you're scanning the bookshelf, reminiscing about how you both bonded over monet and jane austen at this very shop

then you here a little gasp in front of you

naturally, your first instinct is to turn around and check on hyunjin

and he is down on one knee, a sobbing mess (but still cute, y'know)

"you have, and always will be my muse," he says, "so will you make me the happiest man alive and do me the honor of being your husband?"

he slides the ring onto your finger and pulls you into a hug and you're both crying and laughing and

(i'm sorry this is so cute, goodbye)

HAN JISUNG

you had made up your mind - is jisung wasn't going to propose to you, you would propose to him

(get it, queen or king or gender non-identifying reader!)

and so you're on your rooftop building when he goes "i need to tell you something" and funnily enough, so do you

(i wonder what that's about... hehehe)

after a series of 'you first', 'no you'. jisung admits defeat and slides you over the ring box

wordlessly, you slide over your box

the two of you just start laughing because, idiots in love

and then you squish jisung and start peppering him with kisses

LEE FELIX

it's a beach date!

absolutely perfect, all complete with bokkie's brownies

but felix is acting kinda nervous.

(and by nervous i mean his face is beet red and he's stuttering like crazy)

(what can you say, my boy is in love)

you're eating the last brownie when he says "close you eyes"

you do and you hear some shuffling.

you open your eyes to a sniffling felix propped up on one knee. "can I be your personal brownie chef for the rest of forever?"

who can say no to an offer like that?

KIM SEUNGMIN

you both were coming home from one of your numerous dates

it was the perfect night to be walking outside, but seungmin seemed really shifty

he was NOT enjoying himself

"are you cheating on me?" you ask jokingly

"far from it actually," he retorts, suddenly letting go of your hand.

you turn to find him in the middle of the street with a ring in his hand

"marry me. will you? please? i've had this ring with me for months and i didn't know when to propose but now i know, well like i always knew-"

you promptly shut him up with a kiss and a breathless yes

YANG JEONGIN

nothing was going according to plan for innie. you spent too much time picking an ice cream flavor and he knew that he was spending too much time at this clothing store

but they just got a new collection

and so he waits until you both are done so that he can take you to that really drmamtic fountain in front of the mall and propose to you

but watching you pick out your clothes, he realizes he wants to do this for the rest of forever

so this man promptly plops down on one knee in the middle of a department store and screams, "WILL YOU MARRY ME AND BE MY SHOPPING BUDDY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE? WE CAN BE EACH OTHERS PROBLEMS"

you just look at him confused holding up a t-shirt, "UH OKAY I'LL MARRY YOU AND WE CAN BE EACH OTHERS PROBLEMS"

you both are so loud that you nearly get kicked

(later he makes you buy him ice cream because he's a baby who's done a good job and deserves a reward)

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cuubism · 7 days ago

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now, this one got REAL. unfortunately. do you want some angst (+hurt/comfort +fluff)

cw burnout, depression, animal death

It started when Jessamy died.

Or.

Well.

Hob is pretty sure it started when Dream was a teenager, if not even earlier. But it comes to a head nearly fifteen years later, when Hob comes home from work and finds Dream sitting on the floor by the couch, Jessamy held in his arms. She is still. And Dream is equally still, equally numb, staring off into space.

Hob knew it was coming someday soon. Dream had had Jessamy since he was twelve, when he’d found her as a kitten by the side of the road and somehow convinced his parents to let him keep her, so she was not a young cat, and while her health had generally been good she’d been increasingly tired and wobbly lately. And cats didn’t live forever.

She looks peaceful, there in Dream’s arms. It isn’t a bad death for a cat, Hob thinks, to curl up in a patch of sunlight on the couch and just not wake up again. Not that that will make Dream feel much better.

Hob sits down beside Dream on the floor. Doesn’t say anything, but lays his hand on Dream’s knee. Dream just keeps staring off into the distance, one hand lightly stroking Jessamy’s fur.

“She didn’t come to greet me,” he says, eventually, when they’ve been sat there for some time. “She always comes to the door.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Hob says.

Dream sits there for a long time, just holding her. Later Hob helps him bury her in the garden, then Dream goes upstairs and buries himself under the blankets in their bed and doesn’t come back out for the rest of the night.

Later Hob will think, that was the first domino to fall. Even later, he will realize it wasn’t the first, but the last.

Dream was often seen as stoic. Unemotional. Hob thought so too, when he’d first met him. But he’d quickly come to learn that the real Dream was extremely sensitive and had simply learned to keep all of that inside and present a functional front to the world. And Dream was, indeed, exceedingly functional. Not just functional, Dream was brilliant. He’d graduated top of his college, and he’d gone to Oxford, and then he’d launched a tech company, and even published a novel on the side simply because he enjoyed doing it. When it came to standard metrics of success, Dream was one of the most functional and successful people Hob had ever met.

And Dream was crashing.

Hob comes home from work a bit late one day to find Dream slumped on the couch, face pressed into a pillow. The TV is on, but he doesn’t seem to be watching it. There’s a book on the table beside him, but he isn’t reading. He’s just lying there. Listlessly.

“You alright, love?” Hob asks, and Dream just shrugs one shoulder under his blanket.

“I fell asleep on the couch in my office,” he says, “so I came home.”

This immediately rings Hob’s alarm bells because Dream doesn’t do that. He doesn’t come home early from work. He barely takes a lunch break.

“Feeling ill?” Hob asks, perching on the couch beside him.

Dream shrugs again.

“Want some dinner?”

“I suppose.”

He’s barely looked at Hob. He’s not even budged from his sprawl on the couch. But when Hob gets up to get dinner, Dream reaches out, snags a hand in his sleeve, squeezes once and lets go.

Hob leans down to kiss his forehead, and Dream sighs.

Hob brings dinner back to the living room a half hour later, and Dream sits up with him and eats but barely says a word. He listens as Hob talks about his own day but barely contributes beyond brief answers to Hob’s questions.

After dinner he lies down with his head in Hob’s lap and goes quiet again. Hob is starting to get worried, but he gives him the benefit of the doubt. It could just be an off day.

Dream falls asleep in Hob’s lap, and then later gets up and goes to bed at barely 9pm despite how he’s normally a night owl.

“Dream?” Hob says, before Dream retreats to their bedroom. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I am just tired,” Dream says.

Then he sleeps for ten hours and wakes barely early enough to get to his office on time. And doesn’t seem particularly concerned about it. Then again, Dream does own the company, and can hardly fire himself for being late. But he’s normally much more particular about it.

Then it’s an off two days. Then it’s an off week. Then it’s an off two weeks.

Hob comes home from work and, instead of finding Dream back on his laptop doing more work, or working on his novel, he’s just lying in bed with the covers over his head. Earbuds in, listening to music or an audiobook. I’m tired, he says when Hob asks. I don’t feel well.

Do you want to work on your novel? Hob asks. Usually cheers you up.

Dream’s novels are an escape from the stresses of his other work. He’d published the first one under a pen name so it would have no connection to his company or anything else about him. He’d been so proud when it hit the bestseller list.

No, Dream says. I don’t care. It’s meaningless.

Worry is starting to sit heavier and heavier in Hob’s chest.

Hob’s known for almost as long as he’s known Dream that Dream struggles with a latent, underlying level of depression, but it’s been well managed thus far and he’d thought Dream had found an equilibrium with it.

Apparently it was a much more fragile equilibrium than he’d realized, because now everything seems to have tipped and flipped over.

At first he thinks Dream isn’t doing anything about it. But then Hob learns that he is, and that almost feels worse, because now Hob doesn’t know where to even start helping him. Dream has already taken medication for years. He’s recently increased his dose and it’s done nothing. He already sees a therapist. He’s started going twice as often as he did before and still nothing seems improved. He hasn’t pulled away from Hob. He still curls up to him in bed at night, and lays on the couch with his head on Hob’s lap while they watch TV. He lets Hob drag him around doing things he thinks might cheer him, like walks in the park, feeding the pigeons, going to the botanical gardens to look at flowers. If Hob cooks something, he’ll eat, but he makes no effort to eat otherwise.

He goes, he does things, but he isn’t there. He’s checked out, distracted, and his smiles are hollow.

Hob watches him pick up books he would normally love, read one page and then put it down again. Watches him abandon the newspaper crossword puzzles he usually likes to do over breakfast after solving only one or two questions. Watches him get dressed in the morning, putting on his usual all-black attire with a mechanical precision that suggests he’s operating on autopilot and not thinking about it at all. He just doesn’t seem to care about any of it, and Dream normally cares so much about everything that it’s really starting to freak Hob out.

Hob asks him if he’s okay and he says he’s just tired. Hob asks him why and he says he doesn’t know. And the worst part is, Hob believes him. He doesn’t think Dream does know what’s wrong. It’s not just grief for Jessamy that’s doing it. Hob thinks it’s more that Jessamy was a tiny piece of a support structure that was far more meager than either of them realized, and now all the rest of the heaviness has come crashing down. That doesn’t mean Dream has the words for what any of that is, though.

Hob worries about him when he’s at work. He worries about him whenever Dream is out of his sight. He thinks about how relentless and intense Dream usually is and contrasts it with his current listlessness and he worries.

He thinks about Dream graduating university with honors while he built a whole fucking company in his dorm room and wrote the first half of a novel on the side, and he worries.

Dream had always made time for Hob then, too. And he always has since. Or maybe being with Hob was the sanctuary he carved out for himself amidst the whirlwind of all that he was.

Now more often than not Dream comes home and immediately collapses on top of Hob on the couch and doesn’t speak a word for a least two hours. Hob is just glad that, whatever’s going on, he at least isn’t fully isolating himself. He’s still coming to Hob for comfort, in whatever way he knows how.

The next time it happens, Hob messages Lucienne, Dream’s COO. In fact he does it from his phone while Dream is lying on top of him, and Dream doesn’t even notice.

Has Dream been alright at work recently? he writes.

Lucienne responds fairly quickly. She’s a bit of a workaholic, just like Dream. I am not sure he would want me sharing all his business without his knowledge.

Hob sighs. He supposes it’s fair that she’s protective of her boss. Lucienne. Come on. Please. I’m worried about him.

He seems tired lately, she writes, at length. And distracted.

Anything in particular going on?

No, if anything, we are in a bit of a slow down at the moment. There is not as much on our plates.

Odd.

Do take care of him, Hob, Lucienne adds.

Always will, Hob says.

He puts his phone aside, and pets Dream’s hair. Dream hums in pleasure, nuzzling into him. “Sweetheart. You want some dinner?”

“If you desire,” Dream says.

Hob’s not convinced he would eat anything at all if Hob didn’t push him.

“Come on, up, we’ll get something to eat,” Hob says, and Dream groans, but lets Hob maneuver him up, and sits placidly in the kitchen with the cup of water Hob pushes into his hands as Hob cooks. He is so placid, lately, in general. Hob is used to Dream being strong-willed and opinionated. It’s upsetting to see him passive.

All he can do for now, though, is take care of Dream as best he can. As he always does.

It hits a breaking point when Dream simply doesn’t go into work at all.

Hob is working from home that day, and doesn’t notice at first that eight o’clock has passed and Dream hasn’t left the house. At around nine he goes to make more coffee and realizes, suddenly, that Dream’s shoes are still by the door, his coat still hanging on its hook. So Hob goes to find him.

He finds Dream still lying in bed, not asleep, just sort of staring blankly at the wall, arms wrapped around himself. Hob lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hi, darling. You getting up for work?”

“No,” Dream says, flatly. “I cannot. I don’t want to.”

So Hob calls Lucienne to let her know Dream’s sick and won’t be coming in. He can hear her concern over the phone. Dream almost never calls in sick. If he gets something contagious, he just works from home instead of resting.

Maybe this is part of the problem. Maybe this is all part of the huge, looming cloud of pain that has apparently been covering Dream like a shroud for longer than Hob’s even known him without Hob ever truly seeing it.

When he puts his phone away and comes back Dream is still lying in the same position. Heart in his throat, Hob climbs into bed to sit beside him. “I told Lucienne you’d be out today,” he says gently. Dream turns over to face him, wrapping his arm around Hob’s thigh to pull close. That gives Hob some hope. That Dream still wants to reach out. “She was worried about you.”

Dream looks up at him solemnly. “And you?”

“I’ve been worried about you for a long time, darling. Talk to me.”

“I meant to go in today,” Dream says. “I have things to do. I suppose. But. I realized that I don’t care about any of it. I tried to remind myself how to care about it. But I could not remember. And so there was no point in getting up.”

“Perhaps you’re a bit stressed about it all,” Hob suggests, but Dream shakes his head.

“I do not feel anything about it at all. I think the company could disappear entirely in this moment and I would feel nothing but this... numbness. I ought to care. But I don’t. It’s meaningless.” He presses his forehead into Hob’s thigh. “I think it ought to scare me. But I don’t feel that either. I don’t feel anything.”

Hob breathes out hard. “Okay. Alright.” He pets Dream’s hair as he thinks. He doesn’t feel very equipped to handle this, but Dream’s regular therapy and meds don’t seem to be doing anything so he’s going to have to try. And if Dream’s regular routine isn’t helping then maybe it’s not his usual depression. Then maybe Hob can work out something to begin to help. “Maybe we need to take you on a very, very long holiday. So you can have a rest.”

Dream lets out a choked laugh, though when he speaks there’s no humor in it. “Hob. I think if I stop moving for that long. I will not get up again. So if you wish to have a functional partner, you may want to withdraw that suggestion.”

Hob feels his heart break in two. “What if I want an alive partner?”

“I am not planning to kill myself.”

“Recently it seems you’re well on your way to it, Dream.”

Dream is silent for a long moment, then says, voice cracking, “I am not trying to—”

“I know, I know, honey,” Hob slides down the bed to rest beside him, pulling Dream into his arms. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know any other way to be,” Dream cries, pressing his face into Hob’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my love.” They have been together since university. He’s seen Dream go through bouts of depression before. But he’s never seen him like this. Fracturing at the seams. It’s frightening. “I love you so much, do you know?”

“I know.” He squeezes Hob close. “I do know.”

“I don’t care how functional you are,” Hob says, making a clear mockery of the word, and Dream laughs weakly. “I do actually like you, you know. You. Not Mr Great Tech Innovator.”

Dream groans. “Please do not call me a ‘tech innovator’ or I may have to actually kill myself out of shame.”

Hob remembers when Forbes had wanted Dream to be in their thirty under thirty issue and Dream had refused because he thought it was ‘stupid and self-aggrandizing’ and because he ‘didn’t put in years of work for the purpose of being on the cover of an insipid magazine.’ Hob loves this stupid idiot so much.

Dream doesn’t do any of it for fame. Hob doesn’t entirely know why he does it. He think maybe pouring all of himself out is the only thing Dream knows.

“When’s the last time you feel you got an actual break?” Hob asks.

Dream thinks about it. “Year 10,” he says at last. “I spent the summer holiday doing nothing but reading. It was blissful.”

“Dream, that was fifteen years ago."

“After that summer I was always working somehow. Doing advanced class prep work. Then university prep.” He gives Hob a sly sidelong glance, and despite the heavy topic, Hob internally cheers to see a bit of his humor come back. “Needless to say, I was not spending my free time partying when I was in school.”

No, Hob knew that about him. Dream is practically incapable of having fun. Even one of his supposedly stress-relieving outlets, writing, he’s managed to turn into a side career as an author. And Hob knows that, unless one is a verifiable genius, one doesn’t earn the perfect marks Dream had all through school without sacrifice. Hob had gotten good marks, too, but Dream had always been a step above.

And he knows Dream’s parents had always demanded utter perfection. Whether they ever rewarded him for any of it, Hob doesn’t know.

“Hey, darling,” he says. “You’re doing a good job.”

Dream whimpers, pushing his face into Hob’s chest.

“You’re doing enough,” Hob continues. “You’re doing so well. I promise. It’s all okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” Dream says. He clings to Hob, wrapping his arms around him, slipping one leg in between Hob’s thighs. “So much.”

It would be easy to feel insecure around Dream’s level of success, except that Dream’s love for Hob is so obvious. To Hob it is, at least. Dream cares for him so deeply, in his way, and he never acts like he thinks Hob is lesser for not being someone Forbes is pursuing for their lists. If anything, Dream usually discounts his own success, and is, generally speaking, obsessed with Hob and everything Hob does.

This is also a visceral reminder of the costs of this type of success.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he says, rocking Dream in his arms.

“I have been feeling. Somewhat unwell, recently,” Dream admits. “Increasingly so. I suppose I ought to be grateful, in a way, that my mind forced me to shut down before my body did.”

Hob’s not sure he himself feels quite grateful about it, but he is glad Dream at least recognizes the problem.

“We’ve just got to send you to the seaside for your health,” he says.

Dream laughs, genuinely this time. “Truly.”

“Get you a little break. It’ll help, I promise. You’ve just been over-working yourself, hm?”

“I do not think it is my current level of work that is the problem,” Dream says. “I think. I have been running so long. I simply cannot anymore. Effort, itself, is not a problem for a marathon runner. But duration eventually becomes exhausting.”

“I know. It’s okay. Might need a bit longer of a break, is all.”

“I do not know how,” Dream says.

“You let everyone else at work take breaks, don’t you?”

“I used to not,” Dream says. “Not enough of them. Until Lucienne made it quite clear that I was being unfair to them. I was not trying to be. I was simply… used to my own work patterns and did not realize the strain it was putting on them.”

“But you changed it,” Hob says. “You can change it for yourself, too.”

“Perhaps,” Dream says.

“Hire someone who can do some of your tasks and then give yourself a little break. Go somewhere warm and sit on a beach and drink sugary cocktails.”

Dream laughs. “I don’t know if my brain is suited to that.”

“Exactly why you should do it.”

“Will you come with me on this… health retreat by the sea?” Dream asks, some humor back in his voice.

“Course. I’ll take a sabbatical and go with you. But also. Do you think you might want a bit of time to yourself?”

“By myself?” Dream questions. “I do have time to myself. I am already quite solitary.”

“I know. But. Do you think you’d want a bit of extended time to just do what you want to do?” It would hurt, to be away from Dream for an extended period of time. But he wants Dream to have that, that freedom to be completely unburdened, to have no expectations, if it will help him.

“Hmm.” Dream considers. “Perhaps a bit. But I like to be with you.”

“I like to be with you, too, my love. Think about somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. And we’ll go. Or if you just want to rest here, that’s fine, too.”

“You don’t have to do all this,” Dream says quietly.

“I want you to be well,” Hob says. “More than anything, I want you to be well.” He kisses Dream’s forehead. “Besides if you don’t think I’m already imagining us on a beach—”

Dream laughs. “I see.”

“Come now, you want to see me shirtless, don’t you?” Hob teases.

“I see you shirtless every day,” Dream says dryly.

“Don’t you want to get extremely drunk and naked and fool around in a luxury villa?”

“What counts as ‘extremely’ naked?” Dream asks. “Taking off my skin?”

“Dream.”

Dream chuckles. “I do. That sounds enjoyable. I would like to leave my laptop at home and perhaps wander around a seaside village, drinking wine until I have killed all of my brain cells.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it,” Hob says.

“Hob,” Dream says, serious again.

“Yeah?”

“What if I take a break,” Dream asks, quietly, “And then I cannot convince myself to go back?”

There’s true grief in his voice, but still Hob counters, “What if you take a break and you feel better?”

Dream smiles, faintly, Hob feels it against his skin. “Always the more positive attitude.”

“One of us has to.”

“But what if,” Dream continues, “I take a break and I learn that I never wanted to do any of it at all?”

This is a stickier question. “Why would you have done any of it, if you didn’t want to? You must have wanted to on some level.”

“I don’t know,” says Dream. “It is just what I’m used to.”

“Maybe you’ll want to again,” Hob says. “Maybe you won’t. Can’t we take it one day at a time?”

Dream lets out a long, aggrieved breath. “You are so nonchalant.”

“Thought that’s one of the reasons you liked me.”

“It is,” Dream says, sounding incredibly frustrated about it. “Yet I do not understand it in the slightest. You truly just… have faith that everything will work out regardless?”

“I have faith we can figure it out,” Hob says. “And that I’ll always have your back. That you’ll never have to work through it alone.”

“You are a wonderful partner,” Dream says. Then, “I would like to go out tonight.”

“You… would?”

Dream nods. “I would like to remember what it was like when we first met. And I feel sorely lacking in romance and I’m well aware it’s my own doing. I know it may not feel the same right now but I want to... try. And. I miss you. Will you take me out on a date?”

Hob is thrilled by this turn. “Of course I will. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Can you also tell Lucienne I will be out sick this week and then hide my laptop and phone somewhere I will not find them?”

Hob laughs. “Alright, darling. Get some rest for today, hm? We’ll go out for drinks or something later. I have missed you. I’ve missed seeing you cheery.”

“‘Cheery’ may be pushing it,” Dream says, with a small smile. “However. I would like to have sex tonight.”

Hob bursts out laughing, not at the idea, but at the absolutely flat way Dream says it. He really does have a way about him.

“It’s been too long,” Dream whines.

It has been too long. “Oh, don’t think I’m saying no,” Hob says, and slips a hand up under Dream’s shirt to feel up his back. Dream laughs, snuggling closer to him. It’s so good to hear him laugh.

“Anything you want, anything that will make you happy,” he says. “I love you more than anything.”

Dream leans up to kiss him, long and sweet, then collapses atop him again, as he has nearly every day for weeks. Except this time it doesn’t feel quite so defeated. It feels like it could maybe be rest.

#ngl this ended up more hopeful at the end than i expected #hob's really doing his job as sunshine boyfriend XD #hob as a character is such an antidote to my brain problems tbh #dreamling #my writing #burnout #cw depression #cw pet death

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ginnsbaker · 9 months ago

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets.

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think.

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body.

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew.

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year.

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand.

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works.

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?”

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place.

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did.

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter.

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face.

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks.

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls.

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to.

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her?

Will she even let you?

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment.

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt.

He has always been all she has and needed.

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing.

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard.

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control.

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class.

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even.

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls.

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug.

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully.

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice.

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up.

“Have it your way.”

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers.

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit.

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does.

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you.

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance.

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt.

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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georgie-weasley · 2 years ago

Text

Spontaneous G.W. x Reader

Warnings: one swear word

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: You were rich, pretty, smart, and everything George wasn't. According to George, you were untouchable. He admires you from afar until he learns that you are human, just like him

Masterlist

“I think you’ve got enough strawberries George.” Fred laughed, waving his hand in front of George’s face. George blinked, coming out of a trance to finally tear his eyes away from the girl that had him captivated and look at his plate. He had about 15 strawberries dangerously stacked next to his toast and waffles. Ten minutes ago he had been starving, ready to eat Fred if he had to until you walked in, laughing with your friends. He didn’t even see you at first since he was so preoccupied picking out his breakfast but he heard you. Someone must have said something hilarious because your laugh seemed to echo around the Great Hall, bombarding George from all angles. He loved it. Your laugh sounded like the crescendo in a song, taking his breath away. He had been red in the face and sweaty before he even saw you. When he finally did look at you, it was all over. You moved so gracefully, you could have been floating. George watched you talk with your friends and when he saw your smile, he forgot all about his grumbling stomach.

Fred turned to look over his shoulder and when he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. “Here’s an idea Georgie,” Fred grumbled, “stop staring at her and go talk to her.”

“Yeah mate, it’s weird. I’m uncomfortable for her.” Lee Jordan chimed in, reaching across the table to grab some toast.

“I will have you know I have talked to her.” George huffed, carefully dismantling Strawberry Tower, moving the discarded ones onto Lee’s plate.

“Talking about the weather doesn’t count.” Lee snorted, happily eating the food now added to his plate. George opened his mouth to retort but Lee continued. “Neither does telling her good morning or asking her about the homework.”

“Or apologizing when you ‘accidentally’ bump into her in the halls.”

George glared and threw a strawberry, aiming for Fred’s nose. Much to his disappointment, Fred ducked and the strawberry rolled away. “I have talked to her. Small talk counts as talking if you didn’t know.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “Sure but you’ve been in love with her since third year. Small talk isn’t going to make her fall for you. Just go up to her and tell her you’re in love with her and hope she feels the same. If she doesn’t,” Lee shrugged, “at least you know.”

“That is the stupidest thing you have ever said Lee. And you once asked McGonagall if she licks herself clean when she’s a cat.” The three boys shuddered at the memory. “I’ll talk to her about something normal. Something that will make her want to keep talking to me.”

---

“Do you ever wonder if McGonagall licks herself clean when she’s a cat?” George stood in front of you, hands sweating and his eyes going wide as he realized what just came out of his mouth. Something normal indeed.

“Pardon?” You cocked your head to the side, watching George with those beautiful eyes he could spend forever staring into.

“I just mean that maybe she acts like a cat does and that’s how they bathe. So maybe she…” He trailed off, hearing the giggles coming from your friends behind you. “Sorry, that was… weird.”

You smiled and George could feel his heart stop. He was going into cardiac arrest, he just knew it. “A little but a very good question all the same.”

He died. There was no way he was alive. The real you would have never even entertained his question, let alone call it a good one. He stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. He should say something, something smooth. If he could just lay on the charm like Fred does so well, you’d be putty in his hands. “Do you think that means she goes to the bathroom in a box?” Oh. My. God.

George spun on his heel and took off sprinting down the hall. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

George lay in his bed, hands covering his face as Fred and Lee practically rolled on the floor with laughter. “So you– I mean you really asked her if McGonagall uses… a box?” Lee burst into another fit of giggles as Fred gasped for air. “George, I think you did it mate. I think she’s in love with you now.”

A scarf came flying from the bed, landing harmlessly on Lee. “I hate both of you!” George grabbed his pillow, burying his face in it. The laughter died down and once the other two felt they could talk without falling into another laughing fit, they climbed onto his bed.

“George, you’ve never had this much trouble talking to a girl before. You’ve always been pretty smooth. Not like me but you have never struggled to talk to anyone. Why is she so different?” Fred grabbed the pillow, making sure his twin was still breathing.

“Why is she different? Have you not seen her, Fred?” George sat up, looking at his hands. “First of all she’s gorgeous. Ethereal. Stunning. All that and more. She’s funny. I’ve heard her make a few jokes and they’re great; some of them are almost as good as ours. She’s smart and talented and nice and just perfect. That’s the problem.” He sighed and glanced at his brother and friend, glad to see they were now taking him seriously. “She’s from this really well off family. Her parents are both ministry workers but not like dad, they have important jobs. Her family has been full of powerful witches and wizards for centuries but they have never acted like others are less than. I heard she’s been ballroom dancing since she was seven. Her family is rich. She's a lady and I’m just…George Weasley. She would never want to talk to me. Or date me for that matter.”

This had not been the first time George or any of the other Weasley boys had felt less than because of what they didn’t have. George had never seen your house but he assumed it was big enough to fit the Burrow inside it at least three times. He knew your family had money. Meanwhile the Weasleys were just scraping by. You were the kind of girl that should have been a princess while George was nothing more than a stable boy. Not even the court jester because a jester would have to be able to speak to you.

“George, you aren’t giving her a chance to give you a chance. You’re making her seem untouchable. She’s human too.” Fred patted him on the back and smiled. “I say, tomorrow you talk to her, like a person. Talk to her like you talk to me.”

“So I should call her a stupid git?” George smirked before getting a pillow to the face.

---

Today was Saturday and just as he had promised, George was going to talk to Y/N. He just had to find her. He checked out the Great Hall and there was no sign of you. Then he checked out any open classrooms he could find and you weren’t there either. He went to the library and had no luck. In fact, he was kicked out for yelling your name while looking for you. By this time, George was exhausted and sure his legs would fall off any minute if he didn’t sit down soon. The lake was close enough that he could kill two birds with one stone; he could look for you and take a break before his lack of legs would make it very easy to tell the difference between him and Fred. As luck would have it, he spotted you sitting under a tree not too far from the edge of the lake. His heart willed him to move toward you but his brain kept his feet firmly planted. This was stupid. He should leave you alone and move on to find some girl that would make more sense. Someone that was not out of his league. At some point, his heart convinced his brain to start walking toward you. The first thing he noticed was the letter in your hand and the next thing he saw were the tears on your cheeks. Yikes. Just back away slowly Georgie, he thought to himself. Take small, quiet steps and you can sneak away before—

“George?”

Shit. He plastered on his best smile and tried to pretend like you weren’t crying right in front of him. “Hey there Y/N. How are you? Probably not great considering the… crying.” George closed his eyes, mentally slamming his head on the nearest tree. It was honestly amazing how great he was at screwing up. He should be given some kind of award. “I’m so sorry. I just walked over and saw you crying and I don’t know what to do with crying people and I’m really nervous to screw up here.” Neither spoke for a minute as you looked up at him. Seeing your usually sparking eyes filled with tears broke his heart, shattered it actually. All he wanted to do was take you in his arms and make it all better. Just talk to her like a person.

Slowly, George approached you, afraid you would take off running or yell at him. When you made no move to sprint away, he sat next to you. “I’m sorry. You make me really nervous but I’m a good listener. Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

You were silent for a long time but he didn’t dare move or talk. Honestly, he didn’t think you would tell him what was wrong because why would you? Fred and Lee were right. He had only ever had small talk with you.

“It’s my parents.” Your voice was so soft George almost didn’t hear you. Oh. George nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “You know they’re in the ministry right?” Boy did he know. George had heard from his father about your parents. Your father was part of the Wizengamot, the part of the ministry that makes laws and holds trials. He was a big name in the ministry. Your mother was part of the Department of International Magic Co-Operation. Her whole job involved getting wizards and witches in other countries to work together. She played a big part in getting Durmstrang and Beauxbatons to come to Hogwarts this year for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. George’s father was also in the ministry but his job was practically the least important position there was. He spent his days finding Muggle items that had been tampered with and reporting them, even if he committed the same crime in his free time. He didn’t make much money at all and it left the family of nine struggling.

“Yeah, my dad has mentioned them a few times.” He tried not to sound bitter as he answered you but it was hard not to.

“They want me to join the ministry when I graduate. They made sure my grades were perfect and after taking my O.W.L.s, they hand picked my classes and set me on the path to join the ministry. My mother even signed me up for a summer program at the ministry just so I have a better chance at joining.” You took a deep breath and looked over at George. You had fresh tears in your eyes as you continued. “I don’t want to join the ministry. They have such high expectations of me and I don’t want to let them down but I don’t want to be in the ministry.”

“What do you want to do?” George understood where you were coming from. Him and Fred had plans and dreams to open a joke shop, something their mother did not support. She wanted them to finish school and get some boring job like the rest of the wizarding world. They didn’t want to disappoint her either but their happiness had to come first at least sometimes. George and Fred would never be happy sitting behind a desk all day or chasing down bewitched muggle items. They wanted to bring joy and raise up a new generation of delinquents. That was the dream.

“Well,” you started as you turned to look at the lake, “I think I want to be a healer. I’ve always been good at potions and herbology and basic spells used for healing.”

“And your parents don’t want you to do that?” As you shook your head, George scoffed. “Why? I think being a healer is a perfectly respectable job. You aren’t trying to run off and live in a cave for the rest of your life.”

You let out a small laugh and George felt like he was floating. He made you laugh after you had been crying. He could die happy. “I agree with you but they think that working for the ministry is the only job worth having. They just want me to be successful. They’ve spent my whole life preparing me for the future they want me to have. Dance lessons and internships and anything else that makes me into whatever it is they want me to be.”

“Happiness is more important than success. Who says that being happy doesn’t mean you’re successful?” George ran his fingers through the grass. “My mother sounds a lot like your parents. Fred and I want to open up a joke shop. She thinks that we’ll be throwing away our potential if we go ahead with it.”

You looked back at George and watched him closely as he kept his eyes on the ground. He was pretty. He had the warmest brown eyes you had ever had the pleasure of looking at. “I think a joke shop sounds like a wonderful idea. Personally I can’t imagine you or Fred working at the ministry or any normal job for that matter.” George laughed and nodded. “What will you do?”

He thought for a moment, continuing to look at the ground because he knew as soon as he looked at you, he would forget everything. “Fred and I are opening the joke shop when we have the money. I think our mother will be disappointed for a while but we aren’t made to work in an office. Besides, she’s our mother so our happiness should take priority over anything else.”

“I wish I could be like you George. You sound like you have everything.”

He turned his head to look at you so quickly he thought he snapped his neck at first. You thought he had everything? You were jealous of him? “I thought you had everything. A big house, rich parents, grades, popularity. You have everything.”

You shook your head and smiled at him. “Really? I always wanted a big family that would spend time together. You have always seemed so sure of yourself and confident. You don’t let anyone tell you what to do or who to be. George, you’re spontaneous and perfectly you. I wish I could be like that.”

George smiled as your eyes found his and then time stopped. He was distantly aware of the wind rustling the trees and the sounds of other students talking but all he could see was you. Your eyes, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. “Then let’s do something spontaneous.” With great effort, George tore his gaze away from you and looked around. The lake caught his eye. “Come swimming with me.”

He grabbed your hand and stood, pulling you to the lake until you stood at the edge. Without waiting for you, George ran into the water, dressed in jeans and his t-shirt. Behind him, you stood at the bank. Should you be doing this? Probably not but it would make you happy. George made you happy. It was time to put your happiness first. You took off after him, squealing at the cold water. “You didn’t say it was this cold!”

“I didn’t want it to scare you away.” George laughed, cupping his hand to launch water at you. The water slammed into you and with a harmless glare, you retaliated, sending your own wave of water at him. The two of you continued to splash each other until George held up his hands in defeat.

As you both caught your breath, George moved to sit on the bank, the water lapping at his feet. You took a seat next to him and bumped your shoulder against his. “What do you plan to do now?” He asked, bumping you back.

“I’m going to tell my parents I don’t want to be in the ministry. I’ll talk to my head of house about switching some courses around to get on the right path to becoming a healer.”

George smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

He looked at you and you looked at him. George saw you like no one else. He heard you complain about your parents and instead of siding with them, as most people did, he agreed with you. He thought your happiness mattered more than what your parents wanted. “Thank you George.”

“For what?”

“For listening, making me laugh, making me feel… human.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek before standing. “I should go write that letter to my parents. I wouldn’t want to lose all the nerve you gave me.”

George watched you go, his hand coming up to the spot where your lips had touched his cheek. His face turned red as he replayed the kiss over and over again. Fred and Lee were not going to believe this. They were going to kill him if he just let you walk away after that. He clambered to his feet and sprinted after him. “Y/N! Wait!” He waved his arms, trying to get your attention. You stopped in your tracks and looked back at him, watching him chase after you.

“Yes George?”

“I was… Well I was wondering if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” He held his breath, waiting for the rejection to come.

“I would love to. I’ll see you later Georgie.” With another kiss to his cheek, you walked off. Next Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #fred weasley #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months ago

Text

As Much As I Do - No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03

Author's Note: One-shot request from my love lordofthunderthr! Extra thanks because I've been waiting for the genuine smallest reason to use this gif because it's in no way going to fit into the actual story. Title from Bob Dylan by Fall Out Boy (you guys can pry my Fall Out Boy song titles from my cold, dead hands)

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary/Warnings: Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15. It's fluff. Horny fluff.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, fluff

Ben felt like a fucking cat. She was touching him casually while he “slept” and he was pretty sure he was fucking purring. The Thing was definitely making some sort of goddamn low sound, and Ben couldn’t blame it. She was touching him like it was simple, his head was buried in Her neck, and one arm wrapped was between her body and the mattress while one splayed out across the bed because it goddamn could. He was in their fucking bed and Ben could do whatever the hell he wanted on it.

Except fuck Her.

Ben wasn’t allowed to fuck Her.

He wasn’t allowed to make Her moan and scream and feel fucking good. Fuck Her until she said his name and smiled at him and looked so fucking perfect, undone below him. Or above him. Or against him or in front of him or clinging to his body. He didn’t give a single shit, as long as it was Her. Wanting Ben, touching him, letting him touch her. Like this—where Ben’s breath was in time with her heartbeat and her perfect hands were running through his hair—but until She’d been ruined. Until her beautiful face was flushed and her hands were clawing at his back and her pretty eyes were blown out and lustful and all of it was for Ben. For how he was making Her feel, how she was gasping and begging for him to do it again and again until the only words She knew were Ben and please and everything else was just moans and whines. Until she felt half as damn good as Ben did now, resting on top of Her as she fucking pet him and he had to fight the Thing’s urge to just stay here for the rest of goddamn time.

“I know you’re awake, Benjamin.” Her voice was so perfect, humming everywhere around him and soothing the Thing, that Ben almost missed her actual fucking words. “I can feel you.”

He didn’t answer. Maybe She’d just give up, and keep him right fucking here—where they both belonged—forever.

He should’ve known better. Ben knew Her too fucking well to think she’d ever just let anything go.

“You’re heavy,” She said, and one hand dropped to the base of Ben’s neck. “And you smell like shit.”

“Shut the fuck up. I smell fucking fantastic.” Ben didn’t move as he grunted the words against Her skin. He wouldn’t move, not until she damn made him.

“I knew it.”

Clever, impossible, perfect fucking woman. With Her happy giggle when Ben squeezed her closer and her gasp when he nipped the skin of her neck.

“That’s a goddamn underhanded move, Sunshine.” He muttered, and when he looked up at Her it was like he’d been struck by lightning. She was smiling at him so gently, eyes still heavy with sleep, and so fucking beautiful. Just looking at him, watching Ben like she’d never want to look anywhere else.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pretty Boy.” She kept smiling at him, voice smug. “I didn’t do anything.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You didn’t know I was awake,” he said Her name, and her smile widened. “You fucking baited me.”

She shrugged, body shifting under Ben’s and making a small sound that sent a rush of pure fucking hunger through him. “Prove it.”

Ben had a lot of favorite sounds She made. The small squeak when he flipped her body over his—sitting up with his back against the headboard and sliding her down his chest—was certainly on the damn list.

“You’re a fucking menace, beautiful.” Ben pulled Her forward slightly, leaning down to growl in her ear. “I don’t think I’ll have to prove it. I think I’ll ask you again and you’ll just tell me.”

When Ben moved back, meeting Her eyes, he could feel her heartbeat under his hands. Resting right at the line of her shirt, never higher. Holding her right where he fucking wanted her. Against him, so when she squirmed he’d feel it.

“Fuck yo-“

He didn’t wait to make a teasing remark or dirty joke. Ben just leaned forwards and touched Her. Kissed her pretty mouth until she opened for him, pushing his tongue in—almost down her throat—and just trying to get closer. As close as he was allowed to be, while still touching her more, making her feel good. Make Her hands pull at his hair, make her whimper a fucking perfect sound from her throat that Ben got to devour. He’d lost sight of his original plan, but he didn’t really fucking care. Not when he bit her lower lip and could revere in the way she leaned further into him, or when he had to try not to lose his fucking mind when she started to grind down on him. Started to practically fucking climb up his body.

When Ben sucked on her tongue and she made maybe the best sound he’d ever heard in his life—unintelligible and breathless—he had to wrap his arms around Her and pull her into his chest. Hold Her there until he could get goddamn control of himself and not have to explain why he’d fucking cum in his pants.

“Ben,” She whispered, head in his chest. “You really do smell terrible.”

He chuckled. “Brat.”

“Cunt. Can you please shower so we can train?”

“I told you last night, we’re not fucking training-“

“And I told you, Benjamin, that I do not care what you told me.” She glared up at him, so fucking beautiful, and now Ben had to goddamn pretend he hadn’t already given in. “I am training, with or without you.”

“You’re a pain in my fucking ass.”

She smiled at him. “But…?”

Ben rolled his eyes, leaning his head back, forcing himself to stop staring at Her perfect face. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“We’ll train.”

“Thank you,” She kissed his neck, near his jaw, and hummed against his skin. “Now go shower. You smell like balls.”

The only thing that kept Ben from taking a year in the shower—letting the Thing grab him and show him all the ways he could’ve just fucked her on the bed, buried himself in her and made her scream—was that sometimes, when they trained her singing, his doppelgänger would appear. It would make Her face flush, make her eyes wide and heartbeat quicken, and Ben would get to taunt her until one of them moved and he was kissing the air out of her lungs. It was something to look forward to. Something that made Ben fucking haul ass, getting in and out of the shower in four minutes flat.

Ben hadn’t left the room when he realized that She was already singing. She’d gotten more comfortable with it, the longer they practiced, and sometimes would hum softly during movies or while doing normal things. Normal, easy things like laundry or dishes or cooking, simple fucking things that Ben got to share with Her. Got to watch how Her humming would send the world into a spiral of her, all the perfect fucking parts of her cast across the room for Ben to exist in. Colors and lights that he got to watch her sway in.

This wasn’t that. This was singing.

With words and instruments and a beat that ran through Ben’s body and bones. With the room turned into a dark club, with lights that flashed and changed in time with the bass.

And She was dancing. She was singing and dancing and moving with the music like it had been made for Her. Like the rhythm had been designed to follow her legs, and the guitar had been made to move her hips. Like the whole fucking song had been perfectly tailored to her voice and how she moved through it. How she didn’t stop for even a second, never losing a breath, performing for no one like her life depended on it.

It didn’t, but Ben’s life might. Everything in the world might hinge on letting her just dance like that forever. The Thing wanted all of this. All of Her, forever, like this, or it would fucking explode. Ben had no will to push against it. Not when She was dropping down and twisting and turning her body and so lost in it that she didn’t even see Ben. Falling to her knees and leaning back while her hands gestured with the lyrics. Trailed down her body and up again. Wrapping around her throat before falling to the side. Her whole fucking voice saying every word like it had been written for her, the whole face twisting with the emotions of the song, smiling and dropping into a pout and so fucking perfect.

She only saw Ben when the song ended. When the club disappeared and they were back in the apartment, leaving Ben no longer hidden in the shadows of her illusion. He should probably feel like a goddamn creep, but Her mouth fell open and her heart picked up, so he couldn’t really bring himself to give a fuck.

“Hi,” She whispered, and Ben grinned at Her.

“Hello.”

“How long-“

“About three minutes,” he crossed the room until he was standing above Her. “Almost the whole fucking show.”

“You, um, you showered fast.”

Ben winked at Her. “I’d have showered faster if I’d known I was missing something. You do dance like a fucking slut.”

She scoffed, wrinkling her nose at him. “That’s pretty high and mighty for the manwhore to say.”

“It was fucking hot,” he lowered himself down until his nose was bumping hers. “I think I prefer your slut dancing, Sunshine. It’s more you.”

“More me?” She gave him a flat look. “Fucking rude.”

“How the hell is that-“

“You just called me a slut, Benjamin. That’s not very nice.” She whacked his chest, and Ben caught her hand. Held it there.

“It’s more you because it’s fucking loud. Because it’s fucking captivating and hot. So fucking beautiful and good.”

Because it’s fucking perfect, the Thing rumbled. Because you’re fucking perfect.

She was watching Ben with wide eyes. Opening and closing her mouth like she was going to say something.

Instead, she fucking tackled him. Rammed Her body forward, crashed her mouth against his, and let Ben pick her up and carry to the couch. Training could fucking wait. Everything could fucking wait. She was making that same perfect sound from before, and her hands in his hair were making him groan, and when his hand started to kneed at her skin she made such a happy fucking sigh and Ben knew everything could wait. This was just Her. Making the Thing content and goddamn purr in his chest. Making Ben grin against Her neck when he sucked that one spot and she moaned his name.

The whole world could go fuck itself. This was Her.

End Note: Let's all say thank you to @lordofthunderthr for some easy fluff in these dark times (Chapter 16 to Chapter 19).

I'm going to start a separate tag list for one-shots, so lemme know if you want to be added!

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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keeksandgigz · 10 months ago

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the witch hunt

eddie munson x witch!reader

part 2 of "the love witch"

Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?

CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool

thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u

Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here

feedback is always appreciated!

You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.

To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.

When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.

And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.

You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.

Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.

A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.

What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.

She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.

"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.

"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.

She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.

"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.

"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.

"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.

"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.

"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.

"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"

"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,

"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.

You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.

She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.

A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.

"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.

A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.

On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.

A call startles you. It's him.

You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.

"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"

"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.

"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.

"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.

"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.

You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.

"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.

You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.

"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.

"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.

"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"

A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content.

“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.

“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.

“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room.

You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.

In a panic, he looks at you.

“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.

A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic.

Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know.

His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.

A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.

Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself.

“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone.

“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice.

“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core.

“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.

“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa.

“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims.

A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly.

“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go.

“The mirror” you mumble.

“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.

Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered.

Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it.

The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words.

The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time.

He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth.

“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?”

His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face.

“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head.

“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’

“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.

You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.

“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it.

“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose.

There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news.

His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.

He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe.

“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.

His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs.

“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest.

“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-”

“Your coven? There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod.

“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him.

“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place.

“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks.

“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.

“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset.

And now he’s upset because of you.

“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back.

“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him.

But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back.

You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room.

Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.

Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s.

But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break.

You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace.

But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable.

He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes.

The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional.

The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep.

There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.

He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me.

And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.

He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit.

Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace.

So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town.

“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal.

Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you?

But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes.

He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not.

Real.

He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind.

Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.

And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.

You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air.

You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie.

And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless.

“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time.

If you don’t die first.

Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left.

Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic.

The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile.

The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed.

He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook.

A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

He sees it now.

He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.

“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door.

So he knocks. Again. And Again.

“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it.

“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you.

You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house”

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?

You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever.

Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand.

“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest.

“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists.

“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet.

“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”

“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this?

He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays. I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him.

Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.

Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered.

“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left.

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch.

“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived.

“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.

And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it.

And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again.

When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face.

Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.

“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.

“So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?”

You just roll your eyes and kiss him again.

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