#part two chapter twenty four | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

charliemwrites · 2 months ago

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Part 12 SpecGru reader!!

No content warnings for this chapter.

You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.

It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.

Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.

The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.

Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?

Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.

What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.

And then there was Johnny.

Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.

When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.

Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.

Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.

“What’s on your mind, babes?”

You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”

“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.

“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”

“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”

She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.

Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.

“I’ve just been trying to decide…”

She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.

“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”

“Do you want to put it to rest?”

“I should.”

“But do you want to?”

The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.

“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.

She picks up what you aren’t saying.

“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”

You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.

“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”

You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”

She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”

You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.

Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.

You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.

Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.

Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.

It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.

The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.

Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.

It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.

You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.

Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.

The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.

Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.

Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.

You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.

“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.

He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”

You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.

And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.

It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.

Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.

Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”

He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)

“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”

You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”

He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”

You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.

“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.

You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.

“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”

Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?

You sniffled, but he just kept talking.

“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”

You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.

“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”

And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?

You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.

You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.

No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.

So, you don’t ask.

You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.

“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.

His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.

“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.

“There might be.”

He sits back, skeptical but waiting.

You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”

“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.

“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”

His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)

He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.

“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”

You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”

“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”

His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”

It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.

Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.

The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.

Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.

Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.

“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”

Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.

You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”

“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.

You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.

“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.

“Is this a conversation?” he replies.

You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”

He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.

“Why now?” he says finally.

You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”

A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”

A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.

“How do you reckon?” you inquire.

“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”

You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—

“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”

He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.

“We wouldnae have.”

You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“I ken you and Simon were—”

“Don’t.”

His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.

Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”

There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”

You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.

“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.

“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”

“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.

“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”

His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”

“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.

“I cared about you,” he denies.

“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”

You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.

“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”

You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.

“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”

You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.

“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”

“I what?”

Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.

“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”

“I didn’t.”

He stops. Stares. “What?”

You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”

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#cod #my writing #reader fic #from specgru with love #specgru reader #keegan p russ #john soap mactavish

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rememberwren · 2 months ago

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/•Harmless Fun 8•\

Former and further chapters here.

You (fem!reader) and Johnny and Simon watch a movie. CW: Fingering, handjobs, cum-eating. For @/laughroditee.

Sharing a bathroom with Johnny and Simon turns out to be a lot more invasive than you expected.

It's not actually the bathroom that’s the invasive part. That is no more invasive than sharing any public space, really. You’re a little more secretive with your tampons, and they’re likely a little more stringent in their efforts to clean up after themselves. Even-Steven and all that. You’re all very careful to never even so much as knock when the door is closed, lest you disturb the person within.

The worst part is that the bathroom can only be accessed through your bedroom.

You had envisioned (somehow, sillily) that they would only need the bathroom during daylight hours, and likely when you weren’t home. You trusted them not to go through your belongings, but it felt so personal for Johnny to knock on your door and ask to piss when you’re dressed in your skimpy relaxing clothes (the ones you don’t even subject the rest of the apartment to).

It felt even more personal to wake up in the night to the water running and catch Simon coming out of the bathroom twenty minutes later with dripping hair in nothing but one of his compression t-shirts and boxer-briefs. The two of you freeze at the sight of the other. He jerks a thumb toward the shower, like that explains everything. You hold up a sleepy thumbs-up, though you’re decidedly less sleepy than you were twenty minutes before you were given a front row seat to just how thick Simon’s thighs are.

Laying in bed, smelling the steam and scent of Simon’s body wash waft gently from the bathroom, if you roll over onto your belly and slip a hand down your panties, nobody ever has to know.

Except that’s a problem too. Your time for dedicated masturbating (not the frantic, haphazard rubbing-one-out that you’ve taken to since the other bathroom flooded) has decreased dramatically. Before, you would have felt no guilt locking the door and taking care of your own needs—but now just beyond your door was an intrinsic piece of the apartment. You couldn’t just lock your roommates out and tell Johnny or Simon to come back later. You had to be accessible. It was a nightmare.

Johnny was the opposite of a help. He was happy to let you rub against his cock (and more than once you’d come to one of those superficial, limb-tingling orgasms) but he was masterful at distracting you from asking for more.

It led to some stressful days.

Today was a bad pain day for Johnny, which had turned him sullen and taciturn. He spent most of the day stationed on the couch (finding every excuse to avoid standing up) and in charge of the remote control. It didn’t help that repairs were being done to the bathroom today, with strangers filtering in and out of the apartment. Simon hadn’t been able to go out on a single run, and you could tell that he was drawn tense as a bowstring.

You made it a personal mission to remain in your bedroom during the repairs, anxious at the strange men in the apartment and the tense feelings tangible in the air.

By the time dinner rolls around and the repair people are gone, you are eager to be outside of your own four walls. You can’t help craving Johnny and Simon’s company—or any company really, after an entire day spent listening to drills and hammering, feeling trapped thanks to your own social anxiety. Simon helps Johnny to the balcony and lets him smoke, the tension in his shoulders melting away some. By the time dinner rolls around, Johnny is in a better mood, and starving.

All three of you eat at the sofa instead of the table, brushing elbows and thighs and trying not to make messes of yourselves. A cool breeze comes in with the evening, and Simon stands to shut the balcony doors.

“Sit with me?” Johnny asks, spreading his thighs.

You frown. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then be gentle to me, aye?”

You sit with your back against his chest, his arms looped around you. “Jesus, yer freezing.”

“You’re warm,” you murmur, pressing yourself more firmly against him, careful not to jostle his bad thigh. Simon takes a seat at the other end of the couch and you meet his eye accidentally—but he doesn’t look angry. There’s something surprisingly tender and fond in his gaze. He overhears your conversation and drags the duvet off the back of the couch, laying it over you both. Immediately you are swathed in warmth, melting deeper against Johnny. You loop your arms through his, keeping them wrapped securely around you.

The three of you get sucked into a movie on the television—some of you more than others.

It’s hard for you to focus on anything besides Johnny and the ache between your legs. Being so close to him has awoken it, stoked it from embers into a deep burn. It doesn’t help when one of his hands drifts down to grip your thigh softly, thumb stroking dangerously high on the inseam of your leggings.

Your thighs inch open a little, hoping you can pass it off as just getting comfortable, but Johnny seems to take no notice at all, his eyes glued to the television screen. Sometimes he makes a comment to Simon about the plot, and the other man will hum in agreement.

His other hand gets restless and slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt to rest against your belly, calloused fingertips trailing softly over smooth skin. Something must give you away—a sound or a movement—because his lips brush your ear as he whispers: “Okay?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. You’re okay. You’re dying, but it’s fine. His thumb finds the crease of your pelvis and traces along it. You’re so sticky between your thighs that you’re sure you could hear it if you shifted too much. Something about his distracted touches make you feel combustible, like C4 in his hands.

Johnny’s hand on your belly drifts up—you catch it with your hand.

“‘M not wearing a bra,” you mutter.

He snorts softly, breath ruffling your hair. “Trust me. I know,” he says. Then his thumb brushes the full softness of your breast. “Been thinking about it all night.”

“Do you two mind?” Simon says dryly, popping the soap bubble of arousal that Johnny had created around you both. You tense, shame in your belly. How horny did you have to be to be willing to let Johnny touch you on the same couch Simon was sitting on?

“Sorry,” you mutter.

Johnny nails him with a throw pillow in the chest, asking: “Do you mind?”

Simon’s head turns away from the telly, the pillow resting innocuously in his lap. He’s got the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, nearly black in the dim light. The television lights up the edge of him, throwing his features into sharp, harsh light.

“No,” he says at length. “Play wherever you want.”

The three of you turn back toward the movie, not a single set of eyes truly watching it. With Simon’s explicit permission, Johnny’s hand comes up to cup your breast softly, thumb stroking over your puckered nipple. A sound slips from your throat—you can’t help it.

“Pent up?” Johnny asks. You can hear the grin in his voice.

“Be nice to me,” you mumble.

Simon snorts softly at the other end of the sofa. Then Johnny pinches your nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, and the pleasant ache goes straight to your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

“Like it?” he asks.

You nod.

“Want more?” Your head nearly disconnects with the force of your nod. If he doesn’t touch you, you might go mad. Merciless, Johnny says: “Ask for it, and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow, mouth dry. “Johnny…”

He hums.

You turn your head a little, til you can see him out of the periphery of your vision. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask for him to touch you, to kiss you maybe. But instead something more honest comes: “Johnny—do whatever you want to me.”

Johnny groans, burying his face in your hair. “You hearin’ her, LT?”

“I hear.”

“Sweet as can fuckin’ be,” Johnny says, pressing the words to the soft skin beneath your ear. “Stay that sweet, no matter what I do, aye? Now watch the movie.”

You turn your eyes back to the television. It’s just a conglomeration of color and shapes that your eyes follow, but your brain doesn’t register a lick of what’s happening. All you can think about are Johnny’s hands, the way they cup your breasts. He touches you like you’re something precious, something friable and likely to come undone if he presses too firmly. He hums, a pleased little sound in the back of his throat and rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Your thoughts leak out of your ears the longer that he toys with your body. It’s hard to sit still with how bad you need something in your pussy—you’re so turned on that it hurts. Against your back you can feel the solid line of his erection and you wish that you were in a position to get your hands on him, to map the shape of him beneath his sweatpants.

When your mouth is dry from panting, your hands aching from the way your nails have bitten into your palms, Johnny finally smooths a hand down your tummy and cups your pussy over your leggings., your cunt a match for the burning heat of his palm.

“Stop me if you don’t want it,” he says, coming to slip his fingertips beneath the waistband of your panties.

“I want it—Johnny please—“

Simon shifts on the couch beside you both, and it draws your eyes to him, your face burning hot. He isn’t even looking at you, is instead staring at the television with a bored expression. At your movement, his eyes flicker to meet your own, and his mouth quirks at the edge. Against your will, your eyes shift down to where his cock would be visible—

His knuckles are pale where he clenches a hold of the throw pillow in his lap. He flexes his fingers when he catches you looking, working the circulation back into them, but it’s too late to hide. Simon isn’t unaffected by this—you’d swear that he was turned on too, and the thought makes the last little whisper in your head (the one that says this is nogoodbadwrong) quiet.

Johnny slips his hand into your underwear and finds you soaked, the fabric sodden where it drags along the back of his fingers. His cock twitches against your back.

“Fuck, y’re wet,” he groans. “Just from having your tits played with?”

“It counts as foreplay for a reason.”

Johnny laughs, breath brushing your temple. His fingers sink into your folds before you can say anything else, stroking deep along the length of your sex which is so tender it feels like a blissful bruise. Your hips jerk upward into the touch, and his fingertips nearly slip inside you. Instead he tempers his movements, careful to follow along with the motion of your hips to keep from giving you any more stimulation than he’s ready to.

“Easy,” he breathes. “Relax—just let me play with you.”

I’ve had enough playing, you think to yourself, eyes rolling. But you work to loosen your death grip on the blankets around you, work to relax your hips until they rest back against Johnny’s cock again.

He plays with you like this: the lightest brush of his fingertips along your vulva, spreading your wetness all over you. Sometimes his thumb will find your clit and stroke over it, but more often than not he avoids it altogether, content to play with the rest of your pussy, to coax more slick from it until his every touch is audible over the sound of the television.

Simon must surely hear it. The thought makes you clench around nothing, an unhappy sound rising up in the back of your throat.

Eventually, something happens to you—something breaks in you, maybe. You go soft and pliant against him, your hips still even when he slips two fingers inside you easy as anything, stroking along your walls as best as he can from this angle. Your noises are louder, too, like the muffler dampening them has rusted and worn away. When he sinks inside you, you let out a groan that has Johnny laughing softly against you.

“Oh, she’s hungry, isn’t she? You’ve been starvin’ her, haven’t you?”

He’s talking about your pussy. Jesus.

“Haven’t,” you pant. “Not on purpose, I—“

Johnny just hushes you softly. “It’s alright. Bet you need it so bad, it hurts, don’t you?”

You nod against his chest, tears filling your eyes, this foggy headspace amplifying your own emotions like an echo chamber.

“I’ll make it all better,” Johnny promises. He slips his fingers free from you and drags the burning, wet warmth of them up over your clit.

Just a few firm circles, and you’re climbing that peak, the cord in your belly drawn tighter and tighter until it snaps and sends you free falling, your back arching against Johnny’s chest. Frantic, you reach down and grip his wrist, urging his fingers lower until they slip back inside you, filling you up just right as you clench and spasm around them. The meaty part of his palm rubs against your clit and it’s enough to make you cum again before you’ve properly finished the first time, a choked gasp born and dying in your mouth as he fucks you through it with his fingers.

Your body goes limp against him. This, this is what you needed.

Awareness filters back, your fingers cramping with the strength you use to grip Johnny’s wrist. You let him go, muttering a sorry. You admit: “It feels better to cum when there’s something inside me.”

“I’ll remember that,” he says, voice rough. He nuzzles against your temple. Carefully, he withdraws his hand from inside your panties and holds it up to the light; he is slick all over from palm to fingertip. Fuzzy headspace gone, you have plenty of room inside now for embarrassment, your face warming as you bury it in your hands. “Jesus, make me still. You made a mess of me. Who gets them?”

“Who—? Gets what?”

He wiggles his fingers. You pull a face.

“Don’t like the taste of yourself?” Johnny asks mildly.

“Never tried it I guess,” you admit. Is that a silly thing? That you’ve never tasted your own cum? You wish you hadn’t admitted it, anxious about looking like a prude (which you are anything but, thanks. See the casual sex with your married roommate for more information) but Johnny just brushes over it like it’s nothing.

“Would you like to?” Johnny asks. It’s on the tip of your tongue to say no, but at the last moment you decide what the hell. You open your mouth, and obligingly, Johnny feeds his first two fingers past your lips to let them rest on your tongue. It doesn’t really taste like anything—clean, a hint of musk. Feminine. Not at all what you had expected. You take Johnny’s wrist when he goes to pull away and lick his palm clean, relishing in his stuttered breath. “Converted you, didn’t I?”

“I think I converted myself, thanks.” Speaking of thanks—you toss the blanket off of you both and slip down to the floor at Johnny’s feet, turning around to rest your hands gently on his knees, hyper aware of his bad thigh. Johnny’s cock stretches his sweatpants obscenely, the fabric darkened around the head from how much he had been leaking pressed against your back. “Let me return the favor.”

“It’s not about being reciprocal,” Johnny says smoothly.

“Big word, Johnny,” Simon says. It makes you jolt. You had nearly forgotten that he was there—he is so quiet and still, unmoving on the other end of the sofa. God, he had watched you lick Johnny’s hand clean. The thought makes your face flush with warmth, though he seems cool and calm as anything, not repulsed like you might have expected.

“I know a few, aye,” Johnny says, eyes rolling. He admits to you: “Math is my strong suit.”

“Well, subtract your pants.”

Johnny guffaws. It takes him work, wincing as pressure is placed on his bad thigh, but eventually he is able to draw his cock free, and fuck, what a cock it is. He’s uncut, thick. Just looking at him, you can tell that the stretch of him inside you would be blissful. It’s almost enough to have you aching again between the legs.

You reach out and then hesitate. “Can I?”

“‘course you can,” he says. “Don’t take this as any representation of my stamina, I’ll have you know—“

“Tighter.”

You both glance towards Simon. He’s loosened his grip on the throw pillow, though it still rests in his lap. He’s abandoned any facade of watching the television and has angled his body towards you where your hand looks downright dainty wrapped around Johnny’s cock.

“What?” you ask him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He wets his lips and says: “Johnny likes a firm grip.”

Your hand tightens, reflexively responding to the instruction, and Johnny groans above you. Precum leaks from the head, dripping down over your knuckles.

“That’s it,” Simon says softly. “Good. Go ahead.”

Maybe that ache between your legs wasn’t as gone as you had thought. Grip firm, you give Johnny a single, slick stroke from head to base, and it has his head lolling back against the couch cushions, his groan echoing around the apartment.

“Don’t team up against me,” Johnny breathes. “Please, I already don’t stand a chance.”

“Twist on the upstroke, if your wrist can manage it,” Simon says, eyes glittering as he watches your hand work over his husband. “Just like that—keep doing just that and—”

Johnny sucks in a breath, wrenching the hem of his t-shirt up just as his cock bursts, pale seed splattering his tanned abs as his face twists with pleasure, eyes screwed tightly shut. His hips jerk upward on instinct until he hisses out a pained breath, and Simon shifts to reach out and place his broad palm over Johnny’s bare sternum, urging him into stillness as you work every last bit of cum from his cock.

“Jesus,” he groans, palming at his eyes when you have finished.

“Your turn,” you tease, holding up two sticky fingers to Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny laughs. He takes your wrist—guides it towards Simon.

You expect Simon to refuse—not because of Johnny’s cum, but because of your fingers. Simon looks like he thinks about refusing, his eyes careful as he looks over your hand and then your face, examining the slope of your brows, the raised corners of your mouth even as it likely slips into an anxious frown. He takes your wrist gently and brings your fingers to his mouth. His tongue is burning hot where it laps between your fingers.

You stare, wide-eyed.

Simon doesn’t stop until your hand is clean.

#ghoap x reader #harmless fun

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itneverendshere · 1 month ago

Text

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (six)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader; word count: 5.5k requested here; (one); (two); (three); (four); (five)

Being with Rafe was surprisingly easy, like slipping into a routine you didn’t know you’d been craving. It wasn’t over-the-top or dramatic; it was just normal—in the way that holding hands and sharing glances in crowded classrooms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

The guy who used to get under your skin, drive you absolutely crazy, and somehow, now, was making you melt with just one look? You didn’t know when your life turned into a rom-com, but you were pretty sure Rafe missed the part where he was supposed to stop being so intense the second the credits rolled.

But, no. He was always like this now. Kisses in between classes, pulling you into him like he’d forget how to breathe if you stepped too far away. And you were starting to crave it. The constant closeness, the feel of his hands on you.

Today, it was more of the same—Rafe slipping into the seat next to you during a boring afternoon lecture, sliding his arm around you like it was his assigned spot. Like he belonged there. You had barely settled in before he was leaning in close, his mouth brushing your temple in a casual, absentminded kiss.

“Didn’t you just see me twenty minutes ago?” you teased, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t bother to look up at the professor as he trailed his fingers down your arm, sending goosebumps in their wake.

“And,” you whispered, fighting to keep your smile in check, “maybe we should try to pay attention?”

He glanced down at you, that half-smirk playing on his lips. “You really wanna listen to this guy talk about the English 18th-century economic policies, or do you wanna tell me what you’re doing after class?”

“Rafe—”

“—Because I’m thinking we grab coffee and maybe—”

“Shhh!” you hissed, your cheeks heating when you realized a few people in front of you were turning around to look. You shot him a pointed look, mouthing, You’re going to get us kicked out.

He just grinned wider, completely unbothered, and leaned back in his seat, looking more amused than ever. “Fine, fine,” he whispered. “But only ‘cause you’re cute when you’re pretending to be all serious.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, settling back against him instead. It should have felt weird, being so openly affectionate like this, but somehow, it didn’t. You knew people were watching, whispering even—Is that really Rafe with her? Didn’t they used to, like, hate each other?—but he made it all feel so… normal.

He still made it impossible to focus, not dropping his touch from your skin.

“Are you even listening?”

“Not even a little.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break free. “You’re going to fail if you keep staring at me.”

He leaned closer, “Worth it. Plus I got a hot tutor to help me out.”

There it was again—that fluttery feeling in your stomach, the one that always seemed to come alive whenever he looked at you like that. You shifted in your seat, your leg brushing against his, and he tightened his grip on you, almost as if he knew what he was doing to you.

“Pay attention, Cameron.”

“Make me,” he shot back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Rafe,” you looked around to make sure no one was watching. But of course, a few heads were already turned in your direction. People had started noticing the two of you—how he was always leaning closer, how his arm would always be slung around your shoulders whenever you sat together.

Just as you were about to elbow him the professor started handing back quizzes—the ones you both knew were worth 50% of your eventual final grade.

You were nervous, but not just for yourself. You knew how much these grades meant to Rafe. He wasn’t one to show it, but you could tell. He used to barely scrape by with D’s before you two started your deal. You’d spent so many nights going over chapters together, sometimes until the early hours of the morning, and you were hoping it all paid off. The professor reached your row, placing the papers face down on the desk in front of you and Rafe. You glanced at yours first—an A, not bad. But when you turned your head to peek at his, you froze.

Rafe had gotten a B.

You almost let out an excited squeal right there in the middle of the lecture hall but stopped yourself just in time. You turned to him, eyes wide, a huge grin spreading across your face. “Rafe, look!”

He was already smirking, casually flipping his paper back over, but you could tell he was trying to hide how pleased he was. “Yeah, I saw,” he said, all laid-back like it was no big deal. But the spark in his eyes said otherwise.

“B!” you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, but you couldn’t help it. “You’ve never gotten a B in this class!”

Last quiz he’d gotten a C, which was better... but a B in the last three quizzes? That was something.

“Thanks for the reminder,” he teased, nudging you with his shoulder, “Told you I’d get it together.”

“I told you you’d get it together,” you corrected.

He rolled his eyes, but you could see he was proud of himself. “And I told you I got a pretty good tutor, huh?”

You nudged him playfully. “Pretty good? You mean the best.”

You felt your heart swell at the look on his face. It wasn’t just about the grade—it was about the effort, the late-night study sessions, and the fact that he did care, even if he pretended not to.

But his touching was even worse between classes.

The second the lecture ended, he was on his feet, gathering his stuff with that effortless, laid-back confidence that made it seem like he wasn’t in a rush, even though you knew he couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“Ready?” He didn’t bother waiting for you to answer, just slipped his hand into yours and pulled you gently toward the door.

Out in the hallway, he barely gave you a second to find your footing before pulling you in close, his hand lifting to cradle your face as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your pulse jumped, and you felt the familiar rush of heat rise to your cheeks, even though you should be used to it by now.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, feeling a little sheepish when he finally pulled back.

“What?” He gave you an innocent look that didn’t match the way his eyes were sparkling. “Can’t a guy kiss his soon-to-be- girlfriend after suffering through a lecture?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “You know half the hallway is staring, right?”

“Let them.” He shrugged nonchalantly, lacing his fingers with yours like it was no big deal. Like being with you like this—in front of everyone—wasn’t the huge deal it still felt like to you.

The moment you paused by your locker, his hands were on your waist, spinning you to face him.

“Finally,” he murmured, dipping his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that was too much tongue and entirely too distracting for a busy hallway.

“Cameron,” you mumbled against his mouth, your fingers curling around his biceps. “We’re gonna be late.”

He hummed, lips not leaving yours. “Worth it,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back, pressing you closer. “Always worth it.”

Your heart did a little flip, but you pulled back just enough to give him a look. “You said that in class, too.”

He grinned, looking completely unrepentant. “Yeah, and I meant it then, too.”

Your cheeks heated, and you shot him a half-hearted glare, hoping it covered up the way your purse sped up at the way he was looking at you.

The days blended together like that—Rafe’s hand on you somewhere always—whether it was his arm slung around your waist as you walked to class, his thumb brushing little circles on your knee when you were sitting across from each other in the library, or just… holding your hand, like he needed to feel your skin against his.

You were starting to forget what it felt like to not have him touching you. And maybe that should have scared you a little, but it didn’t. It was nice, easy. The way he’d press a kiss to your forehead before slipping into his own class, whisper something low and teasing when he caught you blushing, smirking at the way you tried to hide your smile.

After a long afternoon of half-hearted studying—thanks to Rafe’s wandering hands and that stupidly distracting grin—you found yourself back in your dorm room, tucked against him on your tiny bed, with a movie you weren’t even pretending to watch playing softly in the background.

It was cozy, almost too cozy. You’d ditched your jeans for a pair of shorts and borrowed one of his hoodies that still smelled faintly like him, and Rafe was propped up against the headboard, his legs tangled with yours. The smell of popcorn lingered in the air, but the bowl had been abandoned on your desk, long forgotten as you focused on something infinitely better.

Him.

You were still breathless from the last round of his kisses—his lips trailing down your neck, his thumb grazing against the line of your jaw as if he were memorizing it. And then his mouth had moved lower, his teeth nipping at your collarbone until you’d let out an embarrassingly needy sound that had him pulling back, smirking.

“What?” you’d huffed, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Nothing,” he’d murmured, “Just love seeing you like this.”

Like this?

You didn’t even know what he meant. All you knew was that he hadn’t stopped looking at you like that since, his eyes following every curve of your face, lingering on the way your lips parted as you tried to get your breathing under control.

“Focus,” you’d said, half-laughing, half-gasping. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“Pretty sure I was learning a lot,” he’d countered as he ran a hand down your side, “Like how you’re really ticklish right here.”

And then his fingers had dug into your side, making you squirm and giggle, batting his hand away until you’d ended up tangled even closer together, his mouth pressing quick kisses along your cheek until you finally gave in, letting him kiss you again.

That’s how you’d ended up here now—his arm slung around your shoulders, his other hand playing with the ends of your hair as you half-watched whatever movie he’d picked. His chest was warm and solid against your back, and every now and then, he’d press a kiss to your hair.

“You’re gonna miss the whole movie,” he teased lightly, his voice rumbling against your ear.

“You’re the one who distracted me,” you pointed out, turning slightly to give him a look. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Hmm, fair,” he agreed, grinning lazily as his fingers traced random patterns on your thigh. “But I think I’d rather kiss you anyway.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you,” And there it was again—that look, the one that made your breath hitch and your heart do a funny little backflip.

It was so easy to lose track of time like this—getting lost in him, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you, the warmth of his hand against your skin. You didn’t know how long you lay there, just soaking it all in, until he moved a little, turning slightly so he was looking right at you.

“Hey,” he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hey,” you whispered back, blinking up at him. He hesitated for a second and then he took a deep breath, looking way too serious for what you’d expected on a lazy night like this.

“Can I ask you something?” his thumb brushed softly against your cheek.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I, um…” He paused, looking almost… nervous? But that didn’t make sense. This was Rafe Cameron—the guy who never seemed fazed by anything. “I was thinking… I mean, we’ve been… you know.”

You blinked at him, trying to understand where he was going with this. “Rafe, you’re not making any sense.”

He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe himself.

“Right, sorry.” He looked down for a second, then met your eyes again, “I was just wondering if… if you’d want to be my girlfriend. Officially.”

Rafe? Nervous? Asking if you’d want to be his girlfriend? As if that wasn’t already painfully obvious.

You pressed your lips together, trying not to burst into a cackle as you pretended to think it over. “Hmmm…” you started slowly, watching the way his brow furrowed, like he was already second-guessing himself. “I dunno…”

He blinked, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Wait, unless you don’t want to? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry—like, we don’t have to—”

“Rafe.” You cut him off, watching as his eyes darted between yours, full-on panicking now.

“I just thought… you know, since we’re always hanging out… and the kisses, I mean—unless you think they’re weird? I’m sorry, stop looking at me like that, please.”

You finally let out the laugh you’d been holding in.

“Really? You’re laughing at me now?”

“Cameron,” you said through a chuckle, “I’m already basically your girlfriend. You didn’t have to ask.”

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. “I’m being a gentleman here, okay? I—I know, okay? I know this isn’t the way people usually do it,” he rambled, suddenly looking adorably flustered. “I was going to do some big, stupid gesture, maybe show up with flowers or whatever, but… I thought about it, and I know you hate surprises, so I didn’t want to make a whole thing out of it and freak you out.” He paused, taking another deep breath, his hand tightening slightly around yours. “But I couldn’t wait anymore,” he admitted. “I just— I want it to be real. I want to be able to call you mine. For real.”

This wasn’t a casual question. This wasn’t some flirty comment in the hallway, something he could brush off if you didn’t react the way he wanted. He was serious. Completely, terrifyingly serious.

“You really—?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, leaning forward, “I really want this. You and me. No more of this ‘are-they-or-aren’t-they’ crap.”

The smile that spread across your face was blinding, “Okay. I’ll say yes for your sake.”

And then, he was kissing you—hard and fast and completely giddy, like he couldn’t believe it.

“God, you’re gonna make me crazy,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands cradling your face like he couldn’t get close enough. “My girl. You’re actually my girl.”

The second his lips were on yours again, all coherent thoughts went flying out of your head. It was like his mouth had some kind of superpower over you. t made everything else—every little doubt and worry—just… disappear.

“Oh my God, no. Wait. Tell me,” you said, sitting up a little so you could look at him better. “When did you realize you had feelings for me?”

Rafe’s hand was still brushing against your thigh as he looked down at you. “Like… three weeks into our deal.”

“Three weeks?!”

“Yeah,” he said it casually, like he hadn’t just dropped that little bomb on you. “We were about three weeks in. You were still going on about Nate, and I was, I don’t know. I started getting annoyed anytime you brought him up.”

You stared at him, trying to wrap your head around that. “So, while I was trying to figure out how to get Nate to like me, you were just… what? Secretly into me?”

He snickered, leaning back against the headboard, looking way too relaxed for someone who’d kept his feelings a secret for months.

“Pretty much.”

“You were such an ass to me back then,” you pointed out, still kind of shocked.

“Yeah, because I didn’t know what the hell to do with how I was feeling,” he admitted, “We acted like we hated each other for years. I didn’t just wake up one day and go, ‘Oh, maybe I like her.’ It took me a minute to figure it out.”

You were still processing. Three weeks in? That was barely when you started realizing he wasn’t the worst person in the world.

“So, what, you just... didn’t say anything?”

Rafe gave you a look, like you should’ve known better. “Of course not. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know we’ve spent most of our lives hating each other, but now I’m kind of into you’?” He shook his head. “Besides, you were still all hung up on Nate.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a second. “Oh my God. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Nah,” he said, laughing softly as he pulled your hands away from your face. “It’s kinda cute, honestly. You had no idea.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You really waited until I was over my Nate phase to make a move, didn’t you?”

“Yup. I was patient,” he said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I was better for you anyway.”

Rafe was still so close, his lips hovering just above yours like he was waiting for you to make the move. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction—not yet. “You think you’re better for me, huh?”

“I know I am.”

You didn’t even have time to roll your eyes before he kissed you again, slowly at first, almost teasing, until his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. The way his lips moved against yours, the little rasp he let out when you kissed him back harder—it nearly sent your heart into cardiac arrest.

And then you ruined it. Because then, like always, that stupid little voice crept in. The one that wouldn’t just let you be happy. Yeah, it was perfect now, in your tiny dorm room where it was just the two of you and the outside world didn’t exist. But next week, you’d both be going home for spring break. And that voice kept whispering what you didn’t want to think about.

Back home, it wouldn’t just be the two of you anymore. No more bubble. Just the island. And everyone on it. All the stupid expectations and labels and… baggage.

Because you were you, the pogue girl who worked summers and knew every corner of The Cut like the back of her hand. And he was Rafe Cameron. Kook royalty. The guy who used to make it his personal mission to remind you of that difference every chance he got.

His friends? They were probably still the same assholes who’d laughed about it like you were something beneath them. What if they still did?

And what if—God, what if—he started to see it like that again too? Realize that all this wasn’t worth the hassle? He was always so sure here, like the past didn’t matter, like he wasn’t even that guy anymore, but… what if being back there, where everyone knew who you really were… changed things?

You pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss. He made a low, disappointed sound, eyes opening and immediately locking on yours, his hand still holding your jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, “I’m just… I keep thinking about… going home.”

His brows drew together, “What about it?”

“It’s just… things are different there,” you looked away even though his hand was gently turning your face back toward him.

“Different how?” he pressed, like he needed to figure out what was going on in your head.

“You know.” You bit your lip, taking a shaky breath. “You’re Rafe Cameron, Rafe. And I’m… I’m just—”

His jaw clenched, his fingers stilling against your skin. “No. Stop,” he said softly but firmly. “You’re not ‘just’ anything.”

“It’s true, though! I’m still that pogue girl to them. Your friends, your people—Kooks—they’re gonna look at me and see exactly what they used to. And even if they don’t say it, they’re thinking it. I can feel it, Rafe. And you—” You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You can’t pretend that won’t matter.”

Suddenly, he was sitting up, practically towering over you, “Are you kidding me? You think I give a shit what they think?”

You blinked up at him, “Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” he went on, cutting you off, his hand still cradling your face like he was afraid you’d run if he let go. “I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care about you.” He leaned closer, his eyes blazing as he held your gaze. “I’m not that guy anymore. I’m not… that Rafe.”

“But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” he murmured, shaking his head, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was wiping away an invisible tear. “I’m done pretending. I’m done worrying about who’s watching or what they’re saying. I don’t want to hide this. I don’t want to hide you. I’m not ashamed, okay?”

Your chest tightened painfully. “But what if being back there—”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he cut you off, voice soft but so steady, like he was trying to pull you back to him. “No. Don’t do this. I’m not letting you talk yourself out of this.” He leaned in, his forehead gently bumping against yours. “When I say I want you, I mean I want all of you. Here, home, everywhere. I want to show up with you at every party, every stupid get-together, holding your hand and daring anyone to say a word about it.”

Your breath hitched, feeling stupid tears prick at your eyes, “You—You really mean that?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Home changes nothing. We’re still us. You’re still mine.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and he brushed it away, his lips hovering over yours.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You were a goner after that.

Completely lost in the feel of his tongue slipping past your lips, his fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt. Your heart was practically doing somersaults when you pulled him closer, your nails scraping lightly across his bare back.

“Rafe,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a sigh as his hands roamed up under your top, fingertips skimming along the sensitive skin of your ribs. He made a low, satisfied sound against your lips, his grip tightening just enough to make you want to eat him whole. His thumbs brushed the underside of your bra, and you arched into him, chasing the touch like you were starved for it.

“Baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he practically cooed, his voice all gravelly and wrecked as his mouth traced down the side of your neck, peppering kisses. “So fucking perfect—”

You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to make him look up at you again, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips. “You know, you’re supposed to be watching the movie,” you teased, breathless, not even pretending to sound convincing.

“Movie’s boring,” he purred, his hands slipping higher, thumb tracing over the lace of your bra. “I’m a lot more interested in you, pretty girl.”

Before you could even think of a comeback, his mouth was on yours again, needier this time. He kissed you like he was desperate, one of his hands sliding back down, gripping your waist as he dragged you onto his lap, and you could feel every lean muscle of his chest, the solid heat of his body pressed up against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he grabbed a handful of your ass, holding you to him like you were the only thing that mattered.

You made a small, breathy sound as he explored your mouth, his hand sliding into your hair, cradling your face as he angled you just right, and you instinctively leaned into him, waiting more. He tilted your chin up slightly, and his tongue slid against yours, slick and probing, your mouths moving together in soft gasps and heavy breaths. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You couldn’t believe this was the same guy who had been your first kiss just a month ago. You knew—knew—that if you kept this up, if you didn’t stop—

The door burst open.

“I swear, if I ever see that asshole again, I’m going to— Oh. Oh.”

You whipped around to see Ava standing in the doorway, looking like she was ready to throw hands, in all her pissed-off, storming-in glory. She was still wearing her cute little date outfit—red crop top, high-waisted jeans—but her hair was kind of a mess, and her lipstick was smudged, like she’d been fuming the entire walk over.

Rafe’s lips were swollen, red, a little glossy, and his hair was a mess from your fingers. But did he look embarrassed? Even the slightest bit ashamed that you’d just been caught practically swallowing each other’s faces?

Absolutely not.

But what made you actually gape was the fact that fact Ava didn’t even blink at the sight of you straddling Rafe, his shirt completely off, your own top halfway up your ribs. Instead, she just waved her hand dismissively, like she couldn’t care less that she’d just walked in on a borderline soft-core porno scene.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice still breathless as you tried to act like you hadn’t been moments away from letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

“I was saying—this fucker had the nerve to tell me that he thinks women shouldn’t split the bill because they don’t work as hard. Like, what the actual fuck?”

Rafe let out a loud, frustrated groan against your shoulder, his forehead dropping onto your collarbone as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You smothered a giggle, trying and failing to glare at him while Ava, completely oblivious, kept right on ranting.

“Seriously, I should’ve just walked out then and there, but noooo, I thought, be nice, Ava, don’t make a scene. And what does this prick do?” She threw her hands up, pacing back and forth as you slowly—very awkwardly—slipped off Rafe’s lap, tugging your hoodie back into place.

“Uh… what?” you asked, doing your absolute best to sound normal while Rafe buried his face against your neck, his shoulders shaking as he mumbled, “She’s such a fucking cockblock,” against your skin. You smacked the back of his head lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“Shh,” you hissed at him, and he just grumbled something unintelligible, his lips still grazing your shoulder.

“Anyway!” Ava continued, still blissfully unaware. “The asshole pulls out coupons. Like, actual physical coupons. And then he tries to use one to get a free dessert, but surprise, surprise, it’s expired, so what does he do? Blames me. Me! Like I’m the one who asked to go to a place with coupons—”

“Jesus Christ,” Rafe sighed, finally lifting his head from your neck, giving her an exasperated look. “Does she ever stop talking?”

“Shut up,” you murmured, swatting his chest even as you tried not to giggle. Ava’s gaze flicked over to the two of you, her expression still murderously angry—but she still didn’t seem even a little fazed by the fact that Rafe was literally shirtless, looking like he’d been in the middle of something much more interesting.

“Anyway, so then he tries to say that he thinks I’m being too sensitive. Like, are you kidding? Sensitive? I should’ve shoved the damn breadsticks up his ass!”

Rafe let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl, dropping his head back onto your shoulder with a dramatic groan. “You’re killing me."

You giggled, shaking your head and patting his hair soothingly. “You’ll survive,” you murmured, still trying to keep a straight face. Ava was still pacing, muttering angrily under her breath.

“I swear to God, next time, I’m just bringing a taser. I’m not playing anymore. You think I’m being sensitive? Here, take 50,000 volts and let’s see how sensitive you feel after that—”

Rafe lifted his head again, looking between you and Ava with an expression that could only be described as done. “Can I kill her?” he asked flatly.

You smacked his shoulder again, laughing. “No, Rafe. Be nice.”

“I am being nice,” he shot back, giving you an incredulous look. “I’m suffering, babe. I’m over here, trying to—” He gestured between the two of you pointedly. “—and she’s giving me a freaking lecture on expired coupons.”

“I know,” you whispered, grinning as he groaned and dropped his head against your chest this time.

“Why do I even try?” he sighed, sounding utterly defeated.

“And then he actually thought he could just—”

Ava abruptly stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her. Her attention flicked between you and Rafe, lingering on the way you were still nestled against him.

“Wait a second,” she said slowly, “What the hell just happened here?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you shot a look at Rafe, who was now smirking like the cat who got the cream.

“Uh, nothing? Just a little... study break?” you stammered.

Ava crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched in that way that always made you feel like she was reading your mind. “Study break, huh?”

Rafe leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “What can I say? I’m a good tutor. A very hands-on tutor.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly serious.

“You better use protection, Cameron,” she warned, pointing a finger at him like a stern teacher. “I swear to God, if you get her pregnant—”

“AVA!” you exclaimed, mortified, covering your face with your hands. You could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks, and it was all you could do to not melt into the floor.

“What?” she said innocently, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Just looking out for my girl here. I mean, have you seen him? He’s trouble.”

Rafe, still unbothered, just laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yup, there she is,” he said, glancing at you with a cheeky glint in his eye.

You shot him a faux glare, then turned back to Ava, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You groaned, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Can we not talk about my potential future children right now?”

She just scooted right between you and Rafe, sitting in bed and throwing her legs over the blanket, settling in like she belonged there. You blinked, caught between amused and confused, as she wiggled down, practically cocooning herself.

"What are we watching?" Ava asked, completely ignoring the fact that she had become the ultimate third wheel.

You could see Rafe moving, trying to reclaim some form of contact with you. His arm was awkwardly hovering like he wasn’t sure what to do now that you were out of reach. You turned slightly—he was full-on pouting. His bottom lip stuck out just enough that you had to fight the urge to laugh.

“Uh, nothing now,” Rafe muttered, his voice full of that trademark grumpiness. “Can't even hold my girl.”

Ava just shrugged, completely unfazed, casually throwing an arm over your waist. “Oh, c’mon, you’ll survive one movie without being all over each other.” She glanced between you two like she was the voice of reason, which—let’s be real—she was not.

You shot Rafe a playful look, but he was still sulking, “Gonna start dragging you to my dorm.”

“Shup up Cameron, let me watch the movie.”

TAGLIST: @sxdghxstsbxxkshxlf @goddmie @voqueflms @mattyskies @maybankslover @psychocitylights @sunny1616 @bokutooooo @justafangirls-blog @cl4uus @persiar9 // if you asked me to tagged and i forgot iM SORRY <3 thank you all for the support!

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causenessus · 5 months ago

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love notes. | suna r.

she's always looking for new art. he's sending her pictures of romantic street art he finds in cities on away games. they say if you fall in love with an artist, you'll be in their art forever. she's the inspiration behind the love notes he's leaving on walls and sending her pictures of as if he's just stumbled upon them. he's the one she's thinking about everytime she's behind a camera.

suna x f! reader

COMPLETED haikyuu smau

taglist: CLOSED

playlists: 1 ( made by me </3 ) | 2 ( @eggyrocks's SUPERIOR playlist )

warnings & notes: language, alcohol/drinking, lots of written parts probably, extreme extreme pining, boths sides are in denial about how the other party feels about them, college timeskip, msby is a college volleyball team bc i said so and the team is slightly altered, timestamps don't matter, hurt & comfort having to do with family issues, comfort comes from found family <3, suna is a loverboy, miscommunication, friends to lovers, everyone's probably ooc. you can blame the horrors of my past relationships and zodiac sign. i know very little about photography and graffiti but i'm trying my best

THE EXHIBITS: coffee enthusiasts | ride or die bros for life

table of contents: (💌 for any chapters with written content <3)

part one: i know a guy (💌) part two: backstabbing bitch part three: rinnie poo (💌) part four: the "i'm disappointed" card part five: fire extinguisher man part six: rowdy teenagers (💌) part seven: there's life in these walls (💌) part eight: if you're willing to listen (💌) part nine: for as long as you'll have me (💌) part ten: connected the dots part eleven: would you light a building on fire for her? part twelve: support small businesses day part thirteen: big spoon deity part fourteen: one step forward, two steps back (💌) part fifteen: middle school boys locker room core part sixteen: remember in the morning (💌) part seventeen: sorry omi / the incident (💌) part eighteen: making mac and cheese at two in the morning? (💌) part nineteen: unspoken confessions (💌) part twenty: epilogue (💌)

moodboards: love notes, suna, y/n, suna & y/n

extras: kenma photography refs, suna & y/n sending each other tiktoks hc

thank you for reading love notes <3

#suna rintarou #rintarou suna #suna #sunarin #suna x reader #suna smau #suna x reader smau #haiykuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader

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bbina · 9 months ago

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between the lines masterlist

ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS.ᐟ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

ᯓ★ PAIRING.ᐟ park wonbin x reader

ᯓ★ GENRE.ᐟ fluff, angst, crack | 𖡎 – written portions

ᯓ★ STATUS.ᐟ completed.

ᯓ★ TAGLIST.ᐟ closed (limit)

ᯓ★ NOTES.ᐟ first riize smau! bbina is cooking with this one i fear... this fic will contain nsfw themes somewhere along the way and some kys jokes, etc. happy reading! also if you want to be added to the taglist make sure your blog is visible for me to be able to tag you

˗ˏˋ ★ CHAPTERS ★ ˎˊ˗ ☆ INTRODUCTION ☆ ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ do what you must ☆ TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 last minute rain checks ☆ THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ national museum of korea ☆ FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 campfire ☆ FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ chemistry ☆ SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 first day on the job ☆ SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ shock factor ☆ EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 yet ☆ NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ soft launch ☆ TEN ⊹₊ ⋆ thanks for the support ☆ ELEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 pillow talk ☆ TWELVE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 count your days ☆ THIRTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ wasn't part of the plan ☆ FOURTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 why does it matter ☆ FIFTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ just be with me ☆ SIXTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ seoul bound ☆ SEVENTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ more than welcome ☆ EIGHTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 trust me ☆ NINETEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ newly improved fake boyfriend 2.0 ☆ TWENTY ⊹₊ ⋆ only my girl ☆ TWENTY ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ next date ☆ TWENTY TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 for my eyes only ☆ TWENTY THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ care package ☆ TWENTY FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ too early ☆ TWENTY FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ not like this ☆ TWENTY SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ two months later ☆ TWENTY SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 long way home ☆ TWENTY EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 thank you ☆ TWENTY NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ fake idgafer ☆ THIRTY ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 boundaries ☆ THIRTY ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ could've had it all ☆ THIRTY TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ out of habit ☆ THIRTY THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 time ☆ THIRTY FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ deja vu ☆ THIRTY FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ operation: ynbin ☆ THIRTY SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ it's bad for the both of them ☆ THIRTY SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ stories write themselves ☆ THIRY EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 ulsan ☆ THIRTY NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 drunken words ☆ FOURTY ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 sober thoughts ☆ FOURTY ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ disappointed ☆ FOURTY TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 afternoon bliss (M) ☆ FOURTY THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 we are so back ☆ FOURTY FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ what are we ☆ FOURTY FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 wouldn't have it in any other way ☆ FOURTY SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ new boyfriend lore ☆ FOURTY SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ texting and driving ☆ FOURTY EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 dior her ☆ FOURTY NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 you’re all i’ll ever want and need ☆ FIFTY ⊹₊ ⋆ between the lines

⋆.˚—̳͟͞͞★ asks | lore | official playlist ₊⊹

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andvys · 3 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty four ⭐︎ I once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden

Warnings: confrontations, angst, mentions of loss and death, confrontations, lots and lots of fluff, allusions to smut

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You introduce Steve to your family... and step out of hiding.

Word count: 10.6k

Author’s note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me proofread and writing this chapter bby<3 can you believe we’re almost done with this story?

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Sun kisses your skin with its warmth, the smell of fresh flowers and wet grass lingers all around you, the leaves that are slowly changing color are still dripping with water from the light rain that greeted you this morning. Your hand is safely embraced by your boyfriend, who is rubbing soothing circles on your skin, squeezing you and holding you close as he stares at the names engraved into the stone, where the bodies of your parents lie six feet under, the only remains left of them buried underneath the ground. The only things evident of their existence are all the pictures ever taken of them.

He can feel your sadness as you stare at the names of your parents, he can feel your grief, even after all these years, you still feel it just as deeply as you did back then.

But Steve doesn’t know that you no longer feel alone, that his presence comforts you in ways nothing else ever could. You squeeze his hand and lean your head on his shoulder.

You wish he could’ve gotten to know them differently, your father would’ve loved him, your mother would’ve adored him. Steve would’ve been a part of your family.

But this is the only way.

You spent the morning in your bed, going through old pictures, ones he hasn’t seen yet, you shared sacred memories with him, introduced him to your favorite pictures of your family, he watched and listened with a smile on his face, a longing look in his eyes, wishing that he could’ve had a good relationship with his own parents too, wishing that he could’ve met yours.

So when you offered to introduce him to them, even if only like this, he immediately said yes. He stopped by the store and got flowers to put on your parents' grave, the flowers that were your mom’s favorites.

You whispered softly when you arrived, ‘hi mom, hey dad’, you touched the stone and looked down with tears in your eyes, Steve’s heart broke at that moment. But then you stepped back and took his hand again, and for the first time, you introduced him as your boyfriend, though you both wished it was under different circumstances, wishing he could shake your dad’s hand instead, that he could hand those flowers to your mom, that he could talk to them, that he could promise them that he will take good care of you, just like he would like to promise it to your best friend.

There are fresh flowers on his grave too, ones that can’t be older than a day or two. He knows they are from you, blue tulips.

He never asked himself that question before but now he wonders how much time you spend at the cemetery. How many lonely days have led you here, to your best friend, to your parents. The thought only breaks his heart even more.

A sigh falls from your lips and he turns away from the flowers and looks at you. You are staring at Max’s letter that fused into the grass, the ink nearly washed away from all the rain that followed since that day.

“Come on,” you whisper, no longer wanting to be here, standing before the grave of your best friend who should’ve been anywhere but here, every time you’re here, your heart breaks all over again. You tug at your boyfriend’s hand and start to pull him away, eying his burgundy car already but Steve stops you, with a squeeze of his hand and a kind smile on his beautiful face.

“Wait, give me a moment will you?” He asks softly, fishing out his car keys from his pocket, he hands them to you and takes a step closer, pressing his lips to your temple, “I’ll be right there, darling.”

Despite the curiosity and the confusion building up in you, you close your hand around his keys and nod, looking into his soft hazel eyes, you match the look on his face, smiling at your boyfriend, you let go of his hand and grab his shoulder instead, rising up on your tippy toes, you kiss his lips before you step away and give him the privacy he asked for.

Steve watches you walk away, a fond smile still resting on his features, you are wearing his jacket, pulling it tighter around you when the wind kisses your skin. His heart skips a beat when you pull the collars around your neck tighter as well. It will smell like you and he can’t wait to breathe in your scent once he wears it himself again.

When you get into the passenger seat of his car, Steve turns around again, facing the grave he hasn’t seen since the day he drove Max here.

A sudden nervousness rushes through him and settles in the pit of his stomach, a tension he hasn’t felt in a while surrounding him now, the kind he only ever felt when he was around Billy. He never liked him and Billy certainly never liked him either.

The cold breeze blows through his hair, messing it up just the slightest bit. Steve clears his throat and looks around, restraining himself from crossing his arms.

It’s almost as though he is here.

The awkward tension hangs heavy in the air, he can feel it but he needs to do this, he has to.

“Hey man,” Steve breaks the silence, feeling a little ridiculous, standing here before Billy’s grave, greeting him like he was a friend. “I know I’m probably the last person you wanna… uh… hear or see?” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he stares at his name.

“But I just… I know what you mean to her, I know what she meant to you… and fuck… I hurt her… many times, so many that I’d deserve to get beaten to death by you. But I promise to make up for all of that. I will protect her… for me and for you. I promise. I’m pretty sure that if I’d ever hurt her again, Eddie would honor you, Hargrove, and just kill me.” Steve chuckles, knowing how fucked he would’ve been had Billy known everything. “But I promise, I will never hurt her again. I love her, I love her so much, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl, Billy. It took me a while to open my eyes and put away my pride but I see her now, she has my heart.” He speaks with a softness in his voice.

The wind blows again, a little softer this time but the leaves fall from the trees and onto his gravestone. The silence that follows reminds him of how ghostly the place is, how full yet empty it is, how lifeless yet… not. But everyone in here is gone, including your best friend.

Steve looks down at his hands, he might never understand the bond you two shared, but he knows one thing for sure, he kept you safe, when he was here and when he was not.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers, feeling sad over a man he could never stand but one that means something special to you, “for protecting her all along, in life and in death.”

And then, Steve takes one last look at Billy’s name, at the grave you visit so often, “I got her now,” he promises before he steps away and leaves.

You don’t question him when he gets into the driver's seat of his car, you don’t give any more curious, questioning looks, you simply smile and take his hand when he reaches for yours, a habit you had quickly gotten used to and very comfortable with.

It’s only been a few days since you had started dating officially, it feels much longer than that… with good reason.

You haven’t seen any of your friends since ‘the party’ at Eddie’s place, you only talked to Eddie on the phone and told him about what happened, and Robin… she only called Steve one more time before she gave him the space he asked for.

You wanted alone time with each other, you wanted to exist with only one another. You barely left the house for three days and most of that time it was spent in your bed. You went out to get food and didn’t hide when you held each other’s hands or kissed in the parking lot of the diner, not caring that your friends who are still clueless about your relationship could see, and while you are both excited for the big reveal, you can’t help but love this little secret between you, the secret that you now live out openly, the bubble you have both created, the one that is about to burst.

When Steve parks his car in Eddie’s driveway, you feel the calmness in you slowly transforming into dread and anxiety, knowing that you will have to face a person, a girl you considered a close friend you now see as someone unpleasant, especially after all the treatment you received from her in the past few weeks, the words she spewed at you, the words you never revealed to Steve.

It was hurtful and offending but still, you couldn’t repeat the things she said to you, not to him. She is still his best friend, still the person who wanted to protect him from pain and heartbreak and you have no intention to break them apart but you can’t digest the words she hit you with, they were distasteful and rude and the disgust in her eyes cut you deep.

“Hey,” your boyfriend whispers, pulling you out of your thoughts with his gentle voice. He brings your hand up towards his face and kisses your knuckles, looking at you with a reassuring smile on his face, “it’s gonna be okay.”

You look into his hazel eyes and you can’t help but wonder what he would think, how he would react if you told him about the things she said to you, how he would react once she tells him what happened between you and her – you know she will, you know that despite her fear of losing him, she will tell him everything.

“Yeah,” you smile weakly.

You can tell that he is anxious too, with the way he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, holds your hand tightly and looks at Eddie’s house with a hint of fear in his eyes.

Eddie and Steve haven’t been on the best terms either, you know why, that’s why you aren’t angry at Robin for wanting to protect her best friend, you are angry at her for the way she judged you, for the way she approached this whole situation. You saw the guilt and the regret in her eyes when she realized how wrong she was about you but it did nothing to mend the anger and the hurt in you.

Steve’s comforting hand is on the small of your back when you make your way up Eddie’s porch, you can’t even ring the bell or knock before the front door opens suddenly and your best friend’s eyes meet yours. You feel Steve tensing up beside you when he looks between you both and then down at your joined hands. A look of relief, a look of happiness for you crosses his face and then, he steps out and grabs your hand, pulling you away from Steve and into his embrace, he hugs you tightly, tighter than he ever hugged and held you before, not only because he is happy for you but also because he missed you.

A smile tugs at your lips, warmth blooming in your chest at the love you feel for him. You lift your arms up and hug him back.

“Hi Eds,” you whisper.

“Hey stranger,” he whispers and squeezes your arms, “I missed you.”

Steve looks between you both with softness in his eyes and a warm smile on his lips. Though the tension in him is still strong and the one in Eddie too, Steve can see it when he pulls away from you and takes a long look at him. He can see the guilt in his eyes, the awkwardness and the missing coldness that he looked at him with for the past months.

“Steve,” Eddie mumbles, nodding at him.

“Hey man,” Steve greets him with a hint of a smile.

Both are tense, both are awkward.

You clear your throat and step back, reaching for your boyfriend’s hand again who takes it happily, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Right uh,” Eddie mumbles and scratches the back of his neck, stepping back into his house and inviting you both in. “Robin is in the living room, we can uh… talk, no one’s here, Wayne went out with Susan, Max went with them.”

Steve nods at his words, he breaks eye contact with him and looks back at you. He doesn’t know a single thing about what happened between you and his best friend, he doesn’t know what words were thrown around, what had been said, how bad it actually got. He knew it was bad, he knew it from the moment he saw the hurt look in your eyes, the disappointment towards his best friend, towards someone you thought was your friend too. You were angry, you were hurt and still, you protected her from his anger by not telling him but he needs to know now.

“I’m gonna talk to Eddie for a second, I’ll be right there,” you tell him, growing nervous as each second passes.

He nods, “alright, I’ll go talk to Robin.”

You don’t want them to fight, you don’t want him to stand between you both but you can’t stop anything now.

He gives you a smile, one that says ‘everything will be okay, no matter what happens, we’ll be okay’. He lets go of your hand and cups the side of your face, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips before he steps away from you and Eddie, leaving you both in the hallway while he makes his way into the living room, where his best friend is already waiting, sitting on the couch with shaky hands and a bouncing knee, staring at the ground with nothing but anxiety and fear written all over her face. The paleness in her cheeks matched the one from the night in the upside down, when she thought that he would die of rabies.

It hurts him to see her like this and he can’t help but want to pull her into his arms. With a sigh, he speaks her name.

Robin’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, she freezes, staring at him like she’s seen a ghost. She doesn’t stand up, doesn’t make her way over to him, she just sits there, quietly and unmoving, like a kid caught doing something their parents have warned them not to.

“Hey,” Steve mumbles softly, slowly walking towards her, wanting to go in for a hug but she stops him, holding her hand up, motioning for him not to come closer as her eyes well up with tears already.

This time it’s he who freezes, furrowing his brows at her.

“Do you know what happened?” She rushes out, her voice even shakier than her hands.

He runs his hand through his hair, sighing as he shakes his head.

“No, I don’t, I don’t know what happened, Robin. I don’t know what you said to her, she didn’t want to tell me.”

Robin sighs loudly, she shuts her eyes and leans forward, burying her face in her hands as she mumbles, “t-that makes it all worse.” She tugs at her hair and sniffles, the guilt consuming her now because even after she threw all these hurtful, disgusting words at you, you still decided to protect her from her best friend’s rage, from losing him.

How could she misjudge you so poorly?

How could she say all these things to you?

She nearly ruined that one thing that he wanted so badly, she nearly took it all away from him.

She feels the couch dipping lower, she smells his cologne and his hairspray as he sits down next to her. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t demand answers but he waits, he waits for her to speak up about what happened.

She takes a deep breath and pulls back, looking around herself but not at him, she can’t look into his eyes, she can’t bear to stand the disgust in them once she tells him everything.

Her heart is already pounding in her chest and her palms grow sweaty, she wipes them against her jeans and takes another few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, trying to get rid of that gnawing feeling in her chest but there is no stopping it, no escaping, she knows how this will end.

“What I told you about her…” She begins, still refusing to look at him, “wasn’t true… That she had no feelings for you, that she… that you were just a hookup to her… that wasn’t true, you were never just that, I was wrong about it, about her.”

“Yeah, Robin.” Steve sighs, “you were wrong about her.”

She closes her eyes again, scrunching them shut as though she is in pain.

“I’ll understand if you will hate me after this, I deserve it.”

Steve shakes his head, “Robin–”

“No! No, you don’t even– fuck… I said some hideous things to her, Steve, and I thought badly of her, really badly.”

She opens her eyes, though she lowers her head again when she hears your footsteps, when she feels your eyes on her. She feels shame rising in her, growing bigger and bigger until it’s nothing but that inside of her.

From the corner of her eye, she sees you taking a seat beside Steve, he sees his hand settling on your thigh, reaching for your hand, naturally, openly. She knows what this means, she knows what you are to one another now, and it only makes the feelings in her worse because she was the one who nearly made it all impossible.

If you were still the girl that she first met when she attacked you with vile words, you and Steve wouldn’t be here now, not like this. You’d both be broken, unaware of each other’s feelings and all because of her mistake.

The urge to put all the cards on the table prompts her to spill it all out, with no hesitation, with no stopping, she spills out every word she had said to you, confesses the ugly truth to her best friend, to the one she always just wanted to protect.

Tears escape her eyes the moment she finally takes a look at him, he is angry, he is angry at her, for what she said to you, for how she hurt you. Robin had never seen him this way before, seething, furious and red in his face from the burning emotions in him.

This is the first time that Steve feels anger towards his best friend.

And as he looks at her, at the girl who knew about how he feels for you, how dear you are to him, he is in sheer disbelief, unable to understand how she could throw such comments at you, make disgusting remarks about something she never judged him for, how far was she from insulting you further?

He gets up from the couch, turning his whole body towards her, he points an angry finger at her, “you knew what she means to me! Yet you decided that breaking her apart was still the best idea!? Even if you wanted to protect my honor!? I would have understood what you did if we were in fact in an official relationship at that time, but we weren’t Robin! We were oblivious to each other’s feelings! If she did hurt me in any way, it was unintentional! But you… you judged her without knowing anything, you judged her feelings and her, you hurt her! Did you think that it would make me feel better? Do you think that hurting her would fix my pain? What the fuck, Robin?” He throws his hands up, still staring in disbelief and confusion, unable to understand how she, Robin, could do something like this.

And now, she won’t even look at him as tears spill down her cheeks.

“Steve,” you whisper softly, reaching for his hand and pulling him back.

Steve knows what you are trying to do, that you are still trying to stop him from losing a friend.

He opens his mouth to speak, though your best friend cuts him off. Eddie clears his throat and breathes in shakily, he sits down besides Robin and takes a nervous look at Steve.

“I’m not innocent in all of this either,” he admits, “it’s not just her you should be mad at. She came to me to talk about you both, about your feelings,” he mumbles, pulling his gaze away from Steve and directing it at you instead.

You raise your brows at him and cock your head to the side. You knew something happened, even before the argument with Robin, you knew they talked, you knew there was something.

“She wanted to know what you felt for him and I lied, I told her there was nothing.You asked me to keep it all a secret so I did, you didn’t want to lose him and I thought I was doing the right thing by not telling her the truth. You always thought that Steve would break things off if he found out about your feelings so… I didn’t want to give you away, if I knew about his feelings, I wouldn’t have lied but she told me the same thing I told her so…” He shrugs, not hiding the truth from either of you.

Steve rubs his temples, feeling a migraine coming in as he looks between yours and his best friend, the anger continuing to build up in him.

But you, you can’t be mad at Eddie for wanting to protect you, not a single emotion of anger rushes through you.

“Is that why you were such an asshole to me this whole time?” Steve asks, staring at him intensely. “The moment you found out about us, you treated me like I was air.”

“Can you blame me?” Eddie scoffs, “or did you forget about how you reacted when I thought you were a couple? And besides, with your reputation? I knew what she went through, Steve. I knew how deep her feelings were for you… was it bad to be cautious around you? And it’s not like I–” he pauses, glancing at Robin who only sighs at him when she meets his eyes.

“It’s not like he cussed you into oblivion… He was… still civil with you. Because unlike me towards Blondie,” she mumbles quietly, looking at you for a brief second, “Eddie gave you the benefit of the doubt.”

Eddie shakes his head, “I did swear on my mom’s grave and Hargrove’s I would punch your dick if you hurt her. Was gonna make sure that dream of yours of having six kids didn’t come true. And I still stand by this if you do hurt her in the future.”

You look down at your hands, shaking your head as a small smile appears on your face.

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, runs his fingers through his hair again as he takes a look around him, at Eddie and at you before he glances at her, Robin who is still hiding her face from him and from you, not shaking anymore now that the truth it all out, but her shoulders are slumped and relaxed now, there is no fear anymore, just sadness.

He is still angry.

He is still disappointed.

For a moment, it’s quiet, no words are said, no looks are shared, not until Eddie is the one to break the silence again when he stands up and steps towards Steve.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you, man. I like you, I really do, you have been a good friend to me after all the shit went down and I shouldn’t have been that way towards you but, I love her, Steve. She is my best friend, I just wanted to protect her,” Eddie says, looking down, “I know I could’ve done that without being a dick though… So, I’m sorry, I really am.”

Steve’s brows pull together, another sigh falls from his lips. He understands it, he really does and he is glad that you have a best friend who loves you so dearly, who is loyal to you and defends you even if you don’t ask for it.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I understand it. And I accept your apology.”

Eddie presses his lips together, he nods, flashing you a quick smile before he looks back at the brunette.

“So… we’re cool?”

“Yeah, we’re cool,” Steve mumbles, still having to force a smile. “And I promise, I won’t ever hurt her again.”

Eddie’s face grows serious again, he squints his eyes and leans closer.

“Yeah, you better don’t, Harrington.”

You look between them both, a smile appearing on your face when they shake hands and Eddie smiles at him. You still sense the tension, you can see it written all over your boyfriend’s face, he needs a moment to digest all of this, you can see it in his eyes, especially when they lock on Robin’s figure.

The shuffling from your right pulls your attention on both men away, you glance at the girl, who gets up from the couch, wiping her tears before she looks around you all, unable to face you still.

“I’m sorry for what I did… It was never my intention to hurt any of you, b-but I did… and I’m really fucking sorry,” she says, sadly. “I’m gonna go now.”

You straighten your back as you watch her, watch how she is ready to walk out of here without asking for forgiveness, ready to leave without friends. Your eyes follow her, just as Steve’s and Eddie’s do too.

You push yourself up from the couch, not wanting her to leave like this.

But Steve, he steps away from Eddie and makes his way over to Robin before she can even come close to stepping out into the hallway, he steps in front of her, blocking her way. With a sigh, he wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly, not allowing her to walk away from you all.

He might be angry, he might be hurt but she still means the world to him and even after everything, he knows her intentions were good, she wanted to protect him just like Eddie wanted to protect you.

“Thank you for loving me, Birdie.”

A sob falls from Robin’s lips, though it comes out muffled as she hides her face in his chest, “Shut up… I don’t… I don’t love you… ew.” She lies, which only makes him tighten his hold on her.

“Keep telling yourself that, Buckley.”

Her sniffles are loud, her knuckles turn white from how tightly she holds onto him. You can practically feel her regret and her fear. She thought she lost him and she was ready to let go if that’s what he’d asked of her.

But you would never be able to live with yourself if he lost her, and all because of you.

You decide to give them a moment, you glance at Eddie and nod your head towards the direction of his kitchen. He gives you a nod and starts making his way out of the living room, with one last glance at the two best friends, you follow him.

But a gentle hand stops you from leaving and you halt in your tracks when you look down to find Robin clutching your hand tightly, pulling you back. You furrow your brows and raise your head to look at her apologetic face, the tears still wet on her cheeks, her eyes puffy and filled with sadness. She pushes away from Steve and takes a step forward.

“Can we talk?” She asks and begs with her eyes, “please…”

Steve looks between you both, giving you an encouraging nod when you look into his eyes.

You breathe in deeply and nod slowly, “okay…”

Eddie looks between you both from the doorway, now gesturing to Steve to follow him so you two can talk because he can see that Robin wants to be alone with you. Steve pats Robin’s back and gives your temple a soft kiss before he leaves, though hesitating when he sees how uncomfortable you both still look.

“C’mon,” Eddie murmurs to him.

“Yeah…” Steve sighs.

The tension returns once you and Robin are left alone in the room. She wipes her tears before she looks into your eyes again, her cheeks are red, whether from all the tears she shed or the fear in her, you don’t know.

You wait patiently, not pushing her to talk, you wait until she is ready.

She starts with your name, speaking softly, “I’m so sorry… I-I was so horrible to you… and you never deserved it. It was never my intention to hurt you. If I would’ve known about your feelings, I would have never done this, I would have never said such… ugly things,” she says, scrunching her face up as she thinks back to the day. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I haven’t– I haven’t treated you kindly… Maybe if I would’ve paid more attention to you–”

“You didn’t have to,” you shrug, cutting her off, “Steve comes first to you, Robin, I understand that.”

She nods her head but the guilt in her eyes remains.

“Yeah… I just… I would do anything to keep Dingus safe, I didn’t want to see him hurt anymore, not because of others.” She sighs and looks down, finally letting go of your hand. “But I could’ve approached it all differently, I-I never meant those things I said to you, I never meant to judge… I was angry– and that doesn’t excuse shit but… I’m just… I’m sorry.”

You nod, though the hurt is still deep.

Whether she meant it or not, she cut you deeply in that moment.

“I would’ve done the same for Eddie, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t have looked at the other person. I wouldn’t have stepped on someone else’s feelings… not without knowing them.”

She looks back up at you, the fear still evident in your features, it almost makes you, yourself feel guilty when you speak your next words.

“... I don’t forgive you, Robin.”

Her shoulders slump, her blue eyes widen and well up with fresh tears, the hurt and the shock are written all over her face. She opens her mouth to speak but no words come out. She looks like she is ready to beg as her big eyes stare into yours.

“But we can start over.”

She blinks a few times, staring at you like she is frozen in place and then, relief washes over her features and she lets out a deep sigh.

“Really?” She asks as her eyes soften.

“Yeah, really,” you whisper and give her a soft smile. “You hurt me but I really like you and I don’t want to lose another friend.”

Her next move is sudden and you nearly lose your balance when she throws her arms around you and hugs you tightly, pulling you into her embrace as she begins to whisper apologies into your ear followed by promises to never hurt you again.

You wrap your arms around her too and hug her back just as tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispers, squeezing your arms.

Only now as you stand here in the middle of your best friend’s living room, in her embrace, do you realize just how much you missed her friendship, her kind presence in your life, how much you despised her cold shoulder because you just missed her, how much it hurt to receive that treatment from her.

“Vickie got mad at me because of the way I treated you and now she is not talking to me… I guess I deserve that.”

A frown makes its way on your face, you pull back from the hug, feeling a little surprised to hear that the redhead came to your defense. You get along with Vickie but you aren’t exactly close.

You place your hand on her shoulder and look into her guilty eyes, “she didn’t break up with you though, did she?”

She shakes her head quickly, eyes widening at your question.

“Then it’s gonna be okay, we’re okay,” you point between you and her, “you and her will be too. Besides, that girl is like… head over heels gone for you. It’s written all over her face, she can’t even look away from you.”

A blush creeps up to her cheeks, her lips twitch and curl into a smile as her blue eyes light up, she looks down and breathes in shakily, staying quiet for a moment before curiosity takes over her features and she raises her head again.

“Like you couldn’t look away from Steve all these years?”

Now it’s your turn to blush and hide your face from her.

“Yeah…”

“I wish I knew…” Robin whispers, in guilt and in regret. When she found out about your feelings, she was taken back to all the times Steve had hurt you with harsh words, the pained look in your eyes, the wetness in them and the hurt in your expression suddenly made sense. If he were anyone else, you wouldn’t have been touched in the slightest but it was him, Steve, the guy you had fallen in love with long before she even befriended him. The guy who disliked you to the point of throwing vile words at you, even after you risked your life and jumped into unknown waters just to save his life. The guy you watched fall for his ex-girlfriend again, the same girl that hurt him and broke his heart, the same one that broke his heart for a second time.

Only when it was too late, when the damage was down, did she realize just how much you loved him. She was so blind to the way you looked at him because she was so focused on protecting him, if she had looked closer, just for a single second, none of this would have happened.

“It’s okay, Robin. We can move past this now.”

She nods with a small smile, a sad one.

“He really hurt you didn’t he?” Robin mumbles, now knowing how much you suffered, all these years, all because of your feelings for someone who didn’t reciprocate them until now.

It doesn’t matter anymore, the past has slipped away.

“He made up for it.”

“Yeah,” she breathes, and looks into the hallway, you both can hear their voices coming from the kitchen, the sound of a beer bottle opening. A smile appears on her face and she looks back at you, “did you watch him run around in his stupidly short gym shorts during PE?”

A snort escapes you and you slap her shoulder, rolling your eyes when your cheeks heat up at her question.

You did. And you enjoyed every second of it.

“Stop.”

A giggle falls from her lips and she pinches your side, “you so did!”

You push her hand away with a laugh and take a step back, starting to make your way out of the living room with her hot on your heels, her teasing voice following you into the kitchen where Steve and Eddie sit around the table, with drinks in their hands and looks of surprises when you and Robin walk in giggling.

Steve’s shoulders slump in relief when he sees your frowns replaced with smiles, the relaxed look he missed on your face back again, the heaviness gone in his best friend’s eyes.

Eddie gets up with a smile and walks towards his fridge to get two more beers out for you and Robin.

Steve pulls back the chair beside him, beckoning you over to him with a gentle smile. You get comfortable next to your boyfriend and lean your head on his shoulder, smiling at the kiss he greets you with.

Robin takes the seat beside Eddie, nodding at him with a smile, letting him wrap his arm around her shoulder.

Everything is okay again.

Steve and Eddie can talk to each other again, with no tension, no awkwardness. They can joke around and laugh with one another again.

And you can open up more about your feelings for Steve to Robin, about the ones she never knew of until a few days ago.

You even show her pictures of your parents, the ones that are always tucked into the little pocket in your burgundy wallet.

Yeah, it’s all okay again. It for sure isn’t perfect, not yet but it will be.

A warm, adoring smile rests on his happy features, his hazel eyes are glowing with love, hands itching to touch your exposed skin that is kissed by the golden sun rays shining into your room. Steve is leaning against the doorframe, fixing the cuffs on his white button down as he admires the way you look in your beautiful black dress.

Your hair falls down your exposed back in waves, glittery hair pins adorning them. The silky material clings to your curves, hugging your body perfectly, like it was made just for you. Your pink heels, the ones you have told him about weeks ago, are high, very high, he will probably have to carry you back into the house because your feet will hurt by the end of the night, but he doesn’t mind, he looks forward to it.

Your perfume lingers in your room, your skin is glowing from the moisturizer he put on your skin after your shower together. You’re wearing pretty earrings and a bracelet, your ring finger is bare, for now.

Steve slips his hand into his pocket, his heart skips a beat when he touches the cold item that he kept in the drawer of his bedside table for the past few weeks.

With excitement bubbling inside of him, he makes his way over to you, the floorboards creak beneath his feet, the smile never leaving his face. Your eyes meet his through the large mirror you stand in front of, your own lips curl into a smile as well when you look at him, you tuck the lipstick you just used into the little purse you picked out for this outfit and put it down on your table.

“Hi, handsome,” you whisper, going to turn around to face him and admire him in his getup but he stops you with the touch of his hand on your waist, he keeps you in place.

“Hey my beautiful girl,” he murmurs and leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing you softly. “You look so gorgeous, this dress was made for you, darling.”

You fall back against him, melting into his arms and embracing all the butterflies that go crazy inside of you.

He looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, and it makes you weak in the knees.

“Thank you, Stevie.” You whisper and take his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips, you kiss his knuckles and close your eyes when you lean back into his chest again. He presses his lips back to your shoulder.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs against your skin, “like a goddess.”

A giggle falls from your mouth, your stomach flutters when his hands move up your body, his minty breath ghosting against your skin. The sudden coldness around your neck makes you gasp. Your eyes widen when you open them, the warmth inside of you melting even further, your heart soars in your chest as you stare at the chain around your neck, the little pendant, the dainty, silver star with the glittery crystal in the middle catching your eye just like it did that day you saw it at the jewelry store. Your lips part the longer you stare at it, your eyes softening and shining with adoration.

You went back for this necklace, only a few days after you had first seen it but it was gone. You envied whoever had gotten their hands on it first, you never would've guessed that it was him, he got it, he got it for you, back then.

You bring your hand up, touching the pendant with softness in your eyes and in your touch, emotions crawl up inside your body, pushing at your eyes and turning them glassy, you look at him through the mirror, staring at the smile on his lips, at the love in his eyes.

“You… You bought it?”

He nods sheepishly, whispering a small ‘yes’.

His hands return to your waist when you turn around to face him.

“You mentioned it that one night when we talked on the phone, I got it the next day.” He explains with all the giddiness in him.

You blink.

Feeling stunned by his words and by his actions, you can only stare into your boyfriend’s warm eyes. You remember telling him this before your feelings were known… when that spark of hope was dwindling inside your chest.

“I knew it was this one,” he explains and glances down at the necklace, “well, I had a feeling it was, besides you love stars and shiny things, so I–”

You cup his cheeks and cut him off with your lips, kissing him deeply and softly, with all your love and all your adoration, messing up your freshly applied lipstick in the process but you couldn’t care less at this moment. Your heart is beating strongly, the hotness in your body consuming you fully.

Steve melts into your touch, into your kiss, he slides his hand down to your lower back, touching your exposed back and pulling you tightly against him as he happily reciprocates the kiss, smiling into it, loving every second of it.

“I love you,” you whisper, softly. “I love you so much, Steve Harrington.”

He tilts your chin up with his fingers, pecking your rosy lips once more after he whispers your name, “I love you so much more.”

You still need time to get used to it all, to get used to his I love you’s, to the softness in his eyes. It all still feels so surreal – just like it does to him. Steve feels like he is the luckiest man in the world, in the whole universe.

You pout at him so cutely, it makes him want to drop to his knees before you.

“No, I–”

He cuts you off this time, pressing his lips back to yours and stealing your breath away with a strong kiss, one that makes you moan and squirm in his arms. Heat builds up in you as you grow weaker for your man. You are forced to fight the urge to grab at slicked back hair, mess up this masterpiece he had spent so much time on. You love the look of it, of him in a suit but you can’t wait to rip his clothes off and mess up his hair, later in the night.

“S-Steve,” you whimper when he trails down kisses to your neck, breathing in your sweet perfume.

A lazy smile appears on your lips, “w-we have to…” Another moan escapes you, cutting you off when he kisses that one spot that makes you scrunch your brows together. His strong hands bunch up the material of your dress, he breathes heavily against you, humming in delight as he praises your beauty.

“S-Stevie… we have to… we’re gonna be late,” you whimper and grab at his biceps, not making much effort to push him away though.

His hands roam your body, grabbing at your butt, feeling the hunger in him rising.

“C-Come on, baby.” You whisper as your eyelashes flutter, “w-we can… we can use the backseat of your car later…”

He pulls away with a smirk on his face, squeezing your butt once again, he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “what, in the church parking lot?”

You slap his shoulder playfully and shake your head at him, which prompts him to just pull you tighter against him.

“They’re not even getting married there,” you chuckle.

“No?” He asks as he leans in again, going straight back to your neck, making you hum in delight. He smacks his lips against your skin, repeatedly, not getting enough of you.

“N-No, just at the… Steve…!”

With a chuckle he finally pulls away but not without pecking your lips first, getting all the gloss on his own.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs as he squeezes your waist, “will you help me put this on?” He reaches for the bow tie on the little table you had kept all your makeup on.

You take it from his hand right away, nodding happily.

He leans down, giving you more access to his neck when you reach your hands behind him to place the tie under the collars of his button down. Your stomach flutters yet again when you breathe in his cologne.

You fix the bow on the front, trying not to smile when you feel him staring at your face. A smile graced his lips.

“Steve…” You whisper, blushing.

“Yes, baby?”

“You’re making me nervous.”

He smirks at your words, adoring the look on your face, “I’m just admiring my gorgeous girl, you truly look like a goddess, especially in this dress.”

“And you look really handsome in your suit and tie, Stevie.” You lean closer to him, pressing your lips to his ear, “really sexy too.”

His smirk widens, his hands dip lower on your body again as your own move down his chest as your hungry eyes meet one another’s and your bodies instinctively move closer and closer.

It’s safe to say that you don’t make it out of your house in time but with good reason and under good disguise — Lego Head picking up Blondie for a wedding? Who thought that it would’ve been a good idea?

When Steve parks his BMW in the parking lot of the beautiful venue that Joyce had picked out, you share a look with each other when your friends catch sight of you both. They’re all standing around Eddie’s car, in their gowns and suits.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and grab the handle of the car door.

“Ready for the show, Lego Head?” You smirk.

A chuckle leaves his lips, he has to fight the urge to kiss you right here and in front of all your friends.

“So ready.”

You wink at him before you turn your back to him, opening the door when he stops you with his hand on your thigh. You look down and then back at him over your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Your eyes soften, you crave his soft lips on your own so badly.

“I love you too, Steve.”

Your heels barely hit the ground before Max and El come rushing over to you, excitedly, gushing over your dress and how pretty you look.

Steve has to bite his tongue at that moment, fighting the urge to agree with them and tell them how gorgeous his girl is.

“Took you long enough!” Dustin says, throwing his hands up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve murmurs, shrugging as he points at you, “don’t blame me, Blondie didn’t know what shoes to pick.”

Nancy furrows her brows at his words, an amused smile making its way on her face as she eyes the pink heels you have picked out weeks ago, already.

“Hey, don’t blame me, Lego Head. You showed up too late cause you took forever with your hair.”

Eddie and Robin share a look of confusion.

“Funny you show up late together,” Lucas grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you.

Will snickers beside him, shaking his head at his friend.

You stop beside Steve and he nearly gives you away already when he lifts his arm to wrap it around you, stopping midway and playing it off by fixing the sleeves of his jacket but someone had caught him already.

Argyle whistles at you, making Jonathan chuckle, “you look so gorgeous, chica. Save me a dance, will you?”

Steve takes a step closer to you, something that makes both you and Eddie share an amused glance, the metalhead speaking softly to you.

“Save me one too, sweetheart,” he winks at you and then looks at Steve smugly, who only shakes his head at him in response, at his teasing.

Dustin smirks at Eddie and wiggles his brows, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

Nancy, who is standing next to Will, eyes Steve’s face, watching the way he rolls his eyes at the curly haired teenager as he takes a step closer to you. A small chuckle escapes her mouth, something that makes Will smile to himself.

“I think Blondie and Steve should dance!” El beams at the two of you, loving to use the nickname he gave you. She looks between the two of you with a huge smile on her face.

“Me and Lego Head?” You snort, acting like you aren’t dying for him to lead you to the dance floor and drop this act once and for all.

“Yeah,” Steve snorts, mimicking you. He doesn’t look as serious as you do, he struggles to. “She’s probably gonna step all over my feet.”

Eddie can see the lovesick look in his eyes, the way Steve struggles to hide his smile, the way he has to restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. Oh, he is gone. He can’t understand how he hadn’t seen it before.

“Yeah, I wore them just for you, Stevie.”

Your eyes lock and for a moment, everything around you disappears, it’s just the two of you. Your smiles spread and your eyes shine for one another.

The tension between you a different than ever before.

But it still goes unnoticed by most.

During the ceremony, you sit between your boyfriend and your best friend. You are unaware of Dustin’s and Lucas’s snickers when they keep glancing your way. You hold Steve’s hand, the whole time. A few tears escape your eyes when Hopper speaks his vows, when he openly shows his love to his pretty bride.

And in that moment, Steve holds your hand tighter than before, he plays with your ring finger, thinking about one thing only as he stares at the two people on the altar, exchanging their rings and kissing one another with nothing but love.

A soft smile graces his lips when he looks at you. He can’t wait to be the one putting a ring on your finger. He can’t wait for his future with you.

The evening goes by in a blur, you laugh with your friends, and share drinks, laugh at all the speeches spoken, cry at the ones from Will and Jonathan when they show their appreciation and love for their mom and the man who promised to take care of his family.

You hold Steve’s hand beneath the table, play with his fingers and sneak glances and smiles at him. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear when no one is looking but you both get tired of putting on this show.

A very tipsy Hopper makes his way to your table, he stops behind your and Steve’s chair and greets you two with a big smile before he looks around the round table.

“Are you here to take a few shots with me, Chief?” Eddie grins at him, already holding up the vodka bottle.

Hopper waves at him, “your uncle’s sitting over there, young man.”

Eddie snorts and follows to where the older man is pointing at, his uncle is sitting next to his girlfriend, smiling at her.

“Mr. Munson is preoccupied,” Argyle chuckles and nudges his chin at Wayne who is now pulling Susan on the dance floor.

Hopper nods and looks around the table before he directs his glance at you and Steve, “how come I have seen everyone on the dance floor but the two of you?”

Steve chuckles and shrugs.

“Yeah, Steve, why didn’t you ask her to dance with you yet?” Lucas grins, wiggling his brows to which Max only giggles.

“Yeah, be a gentleman and take the lady for a dance,” Robin smirks at her best friend.

Hopper grabs Steve’s shoulder, pulling him up, “come on, boy.”

You giggle at the older man, staring at the teasing grin on his face as he forces your boyfriend to stand up. Steve straightens his back and looks down at you with a grin, he’s been waiting for this moment, all night, to take your hand and lead you to the dance floor.

Hopper pats him on the back, fixing Steve’s collar as he grins at him, “go on, ask her.”

You and Steve are both very well aware of all the eyes on you, of the teasing glances from the friends who know and the ones who don’t but neither of you care, not anymore.

Steve clears his throat and offers his hand to you, “would you like to dance with me?” He asks softly and looks into your eyes with love.

Your eyes run up and down his body, your lips curling into a happy smile. You place your hand in his, “I would love to.”

You let him pull you up, let him place his hand on your lower back, you let him lead you away from the table your friends sit around and you follow him onto the dance floor.

“Took you long enough, Steve,” you tease him and shoot Hopper a smile as he passes by, making his way back to his now wife.

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, not caring to hide any longer, he pulls you closer against him, he smiles down at you, “mhm, gonna show everyone whose girl you are.” He says rather possessively.

Your stomach flutters with butterflies, your eyes lighten up but your lips curl into a teasing smile, “is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Stevie?”

“What if it is?”

“Then I’ll tell you that there is no reason for you to feel that ever, I’m all yours.”

Steve pulls you into the middle of the dance floor, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he pulls you against his chest, making you giggle.

“That’s right,” Steve murmurs and envelops your body in his, stepping out of hiding, showing everyone that this is more than just a friendly dance, that you and him are more to each other than anyone thinks, that you are his and he is yours, “my girl.”

There beneath the dim string lights, surrounded by a love song neither of you pay attention to, because in this moment, nothing around you exists, nothing but you and him. You look at each other happily, adoringly.

“My boy,” you whisper and take another step closer, pressing your chest to his, gripping his hand tighter, melting into his touch as his palm lies on the small of your back.

His eyes swim with love, lighting up at your words, his heart goes crazy in his chest.

“I’m all yours,” he whispers and leans in closer, blood rushes to his cheeks, his lips curl into a soft smile. Steve nuzzles his nose against yours, coming closer and closer. Every wish of his, every craving from these past few months with you, finally come to life.

Steve can hold you, he can pull you closer, he can gaze at you with starry eyes, he can kiss and love you openly. He can do this now. Pressing his lips to yours, he kisses you deeply, softly, passionately. He cradles your cheeks and shows the world that you belong to each other and his heart screams in joy at that — just like yours does, your heart soars, everything in you screams out of happiness.

Your eyes are closed, your arms now wrapped around his neck as your hand gets lost in his hair, no longer caring about not messing it up. You feel him smiling into the kiss and you can’t help but do the same.

Eddie and Robin watch you both with smiles on their faces, happy for their best friends.

Mike is rambling into Lucas’s ear about how much basketball sucks, that he should drop it and just focus on DnD again. The teenage boy only rolls his eyes in response, turning away from his friend, he opens his mouth to ask Max for a dance when the sight before him makes him freeze. His brown eyes widen and his jaw drops. Feeling as though his eyes betray them, he rubs them. You and Steve are in each other’s arms, swaying to the music with your lips locked.

Lucas leans over his girlfriend, slapping Dustin’s shoulder, “dude… dude!” He says for a second time, loudly enough for everyone at the table to stop their conversations and look at him.

Dustin frowns at him, shrugging, “what—�� He pauses and follows to what Lucas is pointing at, his own eyes widen and he nearly bolts from his chair when he sees the two of you kissing, “what!?” He shrieks, making El cup her hands over her ears.

Dustin stares at you and Steve in disbelief.

“But…” He mumbles and slowly turns to Eddie, pointing between you and him.

Everyone looks at the two of you now, Jonathan’s eyes are wide, just like Argyle’s are, though there’s a hint of something else in his eyes as he tilts his head at the both of you.

A warm smile lingers on Nancy’s face, she knew it already, she knew it this whole time, she saw the way you looked at him, the way he looked at you, the way he never looked at her. She is happy for him, he finally found his person and she is happy for you, that you found someone who will cherish you and give you the love he always wanted to give, the love that you deserve.

El is admiring the two of you, silently.

Max and Will share looks with each other and smile.

“But I thought… What the hell? Are they drunk?” Dustin asks Eddie.

“Nope.”

“Then why are they…?”

Eddie grins at the curly haired boy, slapping his hand on his shoulder, “they’re dating.”

Dustin shakes his head, furrowing his brows, “no she is not, she is dating you.”

Lucas slaps his hand over his head, “you’re a fucking idiot.”

“She is my best friend!” Eddie laughs loudly, “besides, I have a girlfriend, you met her!”

Dustin rubs his head, glaring at Lucas who is now grinning as he watches you two.

“I thought it was a bluff!”

Lucas points at you, “she is literally kissing Steve right now!”

Will clears his throat and leans forward, “yeah, and she’s been kissing Steve for a while now.”

Everyone snaps their heads at Will, everyone except for Max.

Eddie’s brown eyes flicker with confusion, he pulls his brows together and stares down at the boy, “what did you just say?”

“It was around like… before the fourth of july, right?” Will asks, glancing at Max, who nods with a smirk on her face.

“Oh yeah, that sounds about right.”

Robin nods at Eddie, pursing her lips, “fourteen year olds are more perceptive than us, Munson.”

Everyone gapes at them, especially Lucas who squints his eyes at his girlfriend, “you knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me!?” He throws his hands up, “I was the one who wanted them together!” He says dramatically.

Argyle slaps Jonathan’s chest, eyes widening, as he finally remembers, “I told you I saw him grab her ass!”

Jonathan’s frown slips from his face and he straightens his back, “and I told you I saw her kiss him!”

Argyle slumps back in his chair, mumbling quietly, “and that one time they walked out of the bathroom together.”

Nancy, who is stunned at her boyfriend and his best friend's words, turns to face them both, “and you never said anything!?”

Jonathan throws his hands up in surrender, “we were high as a kite! We might’ve been hallucinating for all we knew! I mean they hated each other!”

Will chuckles at his brother, “you didn’t have to be high to catch these two, they always held hands and kissed when they thought no one was watching.”

Mike turns to face his best friend, he hasn’t given any reactions yet, not until now.

“And now you didn’t say anything?”

Will shrugs at him, “didn’t you hear the part when I said ‘they thought no one was watching’? They were clearly keeping it a secret.”

Your giggle tears everyone’s attention away from Will. Steve is now twirling you around as the love song ended and an upbeat song took over. Your smile is wide, just like his. He’s laughing with you, staring at you like you are the only girl in the world. You are clinging to one another, dancing like it’s only you and him in this world, not caring about anyone around you, not minding the prying eyes or the curious looks.

Lucas is grinning, though still confused about how it all went by him, how he never noticed a single thing but he is happy to see you two together.

Eddie and Robin are smiling too, well, everyone is smiling.

“Come on,” Lucas stands up, pushing his chair back and bowing down before his girlfriend as he offers his hand out to her, “let’s dance.”

Max bites back her smile, hiding her blushing cheeks behind her hair, she takes his hand and gets up, smoothing down her gown.

Eddie watches as the teens join you both on the dancefloor and he looks over at Robin, nudging her shoulder, “wanna join them?”

Robin raises her eyebrows at him, glancing over at the four of you, “sure, let’s go,” she shrugs and gets up, passing by Dustin, she ruffles his curls, “come on, Dusty, you’re coming with us.”

When the metalhead comes up beside you, he steals Max away from Lucas, chuckling at the offended look on his face, “sorry, gotta dance with my sis for a while, Sinclair!”

And as everyone joins the dance floor, the girls try to snatch you away for details, while the guys try to ask Steve what the hell happened, you don’t let anybody rip your hands apart.

Long months, nights, days, hours and minutes, hidden in the shadows away from everyone else. Hiding from one another even, not showing your true feelings. You both don’t want to hide any longer. You both want to remain open, and for everyone to see and to know. To talk about. You both want people to envy your love, as well as want it. That’s how strong it is.

Soft whispers of I love you’s are shared, every time your mouth grazes his ear, or he comes closer to press his forehead to yours. It was the perfect night, yet, you weren’t afraid of the end of it. You two will see each other the next day, and the next, and the next… the moment will never be over.

So when the both of you are sitting on your kitchen table, your feet in a bucket full of ice water, both drunk out of your minds but still laughing while eating McDonald’s, and he watches you eat lazily, with adoring eyes and a look of love on his face, he takes your hand and whispers–

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @moon-flowerrs @corrodedcorpses @taintedcigs @munson-mjstan @munsonlore @joekeerysmoles @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn0628 @thecreelhouse @agirlwholovesrockstars @ibellcipem

#dwoht -- chapter twenty four #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington smut #stranger things angst

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kamiversee · 8 months ago

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 53 || The Hope

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, and a tiny weeny bit of angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——BUT, BEFORE THAT HAPPENS, Gojo had to mentally prepare himself for such an event. Let you go officially? Cut all ties with you off? Move on?

Yeah, it was going to take a while for him to do that, especially given all that he knows. Gojo found himself taking like three showers as if to cleanse himself from the filth he’s had in his mind about you.

The first he took right after his talk with Geto. Being told he smelt like dick wasn’t the best for his ego so he went to go shower immediately. But, even after that, as he walked back into his room, he realized what scent his roommate was referring to.

So, he not only cleaned the entirety of his bedroom but he also took another shower afterward. Then, after later laying down in his bed thinking about what it’ll be like to officially part ways with you, Gojo’s mind flashed yet another lewd image of you and he had to jump up and head to the bathroom for a third time.

It was late at night by then and he stood under the water deep in thought for an hour, replaying all of what he’s put you through all over again. It slowly started to hit Gojo that what he did to you was truly unforgivable, even if you don’t know why he did it. If you’d ever come to Gojo and told him you loved him, he thinks he’d be pissed.

Not only would that make him think of you differently, because what kinda idiot do you have to be to love someone like him, but, it would also make him feel weird. It’s hard for Gojo to imagine what it’d be like to be loved back by you. He enjoys his feelings being one-sided but the moments he got to experience just a slither of reciprocation still linger in his thoughts.

One of his hands went up to his hair and he slid his fingers through it, warm water sliding down his chiseled body as he released a deep sigh. Damn you. That’s all he could think at this point, damn you.

Before this list, before he truly got involved with you, he swears his feelings weren’t this strong. Sure, you made his heart skip a beat every time the two of you made eye contact. And yeah, a simple ‘how're you doing today’ from you used to have him smiling for the next twenty-four hours but still. Hell, even a wave from you used to make his heart pound.

Even with all that, his feelings in themselves were deduced to be nothing more than a crush. He simply liked looking at you, hearing you, and knowing you were just one room over from Shoko’s. But, in Gojo’s mind, having a crush on you was the worst thing he could’ve ever done to himself.

He wishes he could take it all back, his feelings for you included. If only he could go back and stop himself from ever being curious about you. That’s what started it after all. Because, at the end of the day, Gojo knew who you were before you knew who he was— hell, even before Shoko knew who you were.

Even so, none of that matters now, right? It’s all over. When the two of you burn the list, he’ll use that as his opportunity to say bye.

A small smile graces Gojo’s face as he thinks about it. Maybe saying bye would do the two of you some good. It’s probably for the best anyway. Who cares about how he feels or why he did what he did, in the end; you’re happy now.

And that’s the only thing that matters to Gojo Satoru, your happiness.

So, as he finishes his shower and exits the bathroom with a towel hanging off his waist, he hopes that whatever it is you’re doing right now, you’re happy doing so.

If only the universe had blessed Gojo with knowing whether or not you were truly happy.

Sadly, he didn’t know for sure yet. But, in his heart, something told him that during the time you spend not talking to him, you’ll be at your happiest.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

And his heart was right.

You were at your happiest during the time spent not talking to him. Why? Because after that eventful Monday, you spent all of Tuesday planning for your date with Choso.

How could you not be happier? What more could you have ever asked for? The question of if you even deserve all this still lingers in the back of your head but you ignore the thought.

You’re pretty sure that the next few days made up for all that happened that Monday. Tuesday you spent planning your date, Wednesday you and Shoko went shopping for it— she insisted on helping after you told her you were going on one, Thursday you had a rather relaxing day, and then Friday was there and your date was scheduled for that night.

You were on cloud nine that entire day. From the moment you woke up that morning, your eyes gazed up at your ceiling and you smiled at the fact that tonight would be the night things become official.

Yes, Choso asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend but, the title wasn’t set in place yet. He insisted that you let him take you out first, even though you made the argument that the point of dates is to learn about your partner and you already know a lot about him— to which he responded by telling you that you don’t know what it’s like to go out to eat with him.

You let him win that little debate since you wanted to go out with Choso anyway. After getting out of bed that morning, you went and prepared yourself for a slow day up until nighttime, and to your surprise, the smell of your roommate cooking breakfast filled your nose.

Thus resulting in you sharing a wonderful first meal with Shoko, who you praised for preparing such a wonderful plate of food for the two of you. She claimed that it was to celebrate you finally going out with someone and that only reminded you of the fact that she is so out of the loop with the things you’ve been through over the past months.

You’ve been out plenty of times but to her, it was your first date with someone since last summer. Even though you felt bad that she didn’t know anything about what you experienced, it was heartwarming that she felt like today was a day to be celebrated.

“Anything for you roomie!” Shoko beamed as she wandered around the kitchen to clean the mess made from cooking.

It was after your meal with her and you sat watching her— she insisted that you not move a muscle.

Resting your cheek against your knuckles, you grin at the brown-haired woman, “Y’know, I’m just going on a date, this seriously wasn’t ne-“

“Babes, this is like, your fourth time telling me that, and uh,” She turns to you and flashes a smile, “A date is something to celebrate.”

“Is it really?” You drone out to the woman.

Shoko bats those pretty eyes of hers at you, “Yes! Especially when I finally get to meet this lover boy of yours.”

You chuckle and glance down at the counter space in front of you, “You don’t celebrate like this for your dates.”

“That’s because I go on too many for them to be celebrated,” She chuckles, soon turning away from you, “You go on one like every year.”

That makes you laugh, “Shoko, I go on more than one date per year…”

“Yeah?” She scoffs, “How many did you go on last year?”

“Uh…” Well, that’s actually a damn good question. Aside from the one you went on with Geto, which she doesn’t know about, and the few with Choso, which apparently weren’t real dates, you don’t think you’ve been on that many.

“My point exactly,” Shoko giggles, “And hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. Dates get exhausting anyway, trust me, I would know…” She grumbles to herself. Then, Shoko turns to you and walks over to the counter nearby you, “But since you’re going with someone you’ve been off and on withhhhh, things will turn out great!”

“I sure hope so,” You sigh.

She tilts her head at you and smiles as she takes in your expression, “Hey can I ask you something?”

You lift your eyes to her own and grin, “Sure.”

“…Well, it’s not exactly a question, more of a statement-, or, observation.” She murmurs.

You scoff nervously, “What is it, Shoko?”

“You just look… I dunno, happier these days,” She points out with a smile on her face, “Did you manage to score a job or somethin’?”

You sigh, “Uh, I had this small one, hence how I was able to catch up on my rent a few weeks back but uh, I… completed that job, I guess you could say.”

She raises a skeptical brow, “Completed it?”

“Well, I did all I wanted to do in that job,” You lie. It sucks how good you’ve gotten at doing so too, “So, I ended up leaving it.”

“Seriously? But you couldn’t find one for the longest. Hell, I remember you worrying about getting one before we even moved in together,” Shoko recalls.

“I know, I know but, there’s this paid internship I’m sure I can land, especially now that I have more free time on my hands,” You explain simply.

Her head nods slowly, “Right so, you quit that other job for a paid internship right before the semester starts back up?”

“Yeah,” You hum sheepishly.

Shoko smiles briefly, “I mean, I don’t wanna nag you about it or anything but, are you sure about this?”

“Hm? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno,” She chuckles, shrugging, “I just wanted to check that you were confident about this. Between dating someone and trying to land an internship, then your studies… Didn’t’ want ya’ to put too much weight on your shoulders, I guess.”

This sudden warmth spreads throughout your heart. You cherish Shoko more than she knows, “I appreciate that but, I got this.”

A bright smile sparks across her features, “I know! But,” She leans in a little, “If you do need a few months off rent again, I don’t mind-“

“Shoko, please. Thank you but, that won’t happen again, I promise!” You ensure her.

She stares for a second before nodding, “Alright, alright, I have faith in you.”

The two of you share one last little smile before she taps the counter and returns to her previous task of cleaning. You watched her up until she was done and then she asked if you wanted her help in getting ready for your later date.

At first, you were unsure if you should even start getting ready this early but something about playing in your hair and makeup with Shoko for a few hours to kill time just sounded nice. So, that’s what the two of you ended up doing after the kitchen was cleaned.

In your bedroom, Shoko was quick to fly into your bathroom and grab all sorts of things out for you– you loved how much she liked helping you and she really did have a knack for styling and aesthetics. Plus, it was fun to giggle and joke around with her.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Literally the entire day up until it was actually time for your date, you and Shoko were listening to music, she was talking your ear off about whatever some nurse at her job pestered her about recently (you loved the drama she always had), she helped you with getting ready and you went through many stages of trial and error with what to wear.

Yet, after time flew by so fast, she left you in your room to get yourself dressed officially. Shoko said she’d heard the door and by this time it was dark outside and you were ready with everything aside from the dress you’d picked out.

Shoko practically skipped to the door. She was so excited for you. After spending the past few hours with you, she needed to lay eyes on the man responsible for making you smile so softly every time he was brought up. Of course, she’d heard about Choso from you before but you never showed her a picture of him.

And yes, Shoko does know plenty of people and she knows who Choso is but, she really doesn’t remember what he looks like.

Which leads to now as she opens the door for the man. The moment she’s met with Choso, she realized she’d seen him around campus before, just never paid much attention to him.

“Well aren’t you something…” She greets in an almost dry tone. So badly did she want to comment that Gojo’s better, courtesy of her being biased toward her friend and having been rooting for him all along.

Then, she lets him inside and tells him you’ll be out in a minute, to which he nods and keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets. Shoko studies the man for a moment and it doesn’t take long for her to realize that he’s rather shy.

Even so, he didn’t look half bad– hell, worthy enough for you she supposes. “So…” Shoko starts, narrowing her eyes at him, “How’d you do it?”

Choso flinches and just barely meets her eyes, “H-How’d I do what?”

She tilts her head at him, flashing an overly skeptical look, “How’d you get her to fall for you?”

The man blinks a few times and Shoko doesn’t miss the way his face lights up a little at the mere mention of you, “Uh, I still ask myself that same question. Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Hmph,” She hums, eyeing him up and down. Despite her judgemental demeanor, she was actually fond of him already, “You like her a lot, don’t you?”

“Love her,” Choso corrects quickly, making direct eye contact with Shoko, “I love her.”

Shoko couldn’t help but smile, “Awww, I can tell.”

His face softens, “Can you?”

“Yeah,” Shoko snorts, her hands moving to make a gesture near her eyes, “Your pupils increased in size like ten times the second I brought her up.”

Choso’s ears go a bit red and he looks down at the floor, “Did they really?”

“Mhm, don’t worry, hers do the same thing,” She tells him, “I don’t know if you two are in love or just on drugs.”

“Maybe love is a drug,” Choso comments simply, lifting his gaze again.

Shoko nods, “Oh it definitely is. The worst drug, actually.”

The two make eye contact and Choso tilts his head curiously, “Worst?”

“Yeah, love makes things complicated and people tend to lose themselves when they're high off that feeling,” Shoko explains with a slight shrug, “I mean, I am a medical student so I know a thing or two about drugs, and love is definitely the worst.”

“Hm, I don’t wanna argue with ya’ doc but, if love is a drug it’s definitely the most beautiful of them all,” Choso says simply, smiling ever so slightly.

Shoko laughs, “It can be, yes. But, in most cases, people don’t know how to handle such a strong emotion and it leads them to do outlandish things,” She sends him a serious look, “All of which is done in the name of love.”

“Well, doing outlandish things is okay if it’s for the person you love, no?” Choso asks, raising a brow.

The woman hums, “Hmm, I dunno’ about that. Love is also just a complicated emotion so it really boils down to morals and shit as to what’s okay to do in the name of love and what’s not.”

He chuckles a bit and nods, “Fair point,”

“But feelings are stupid anyway so-” Shoko stops as she sees you emerging from your room from the corner of her eye, “Danm,” She breathes out.

Choso’s brows furrow before he follows her gaze and his eyes and on you. “Holy…” His voice dies out as his breath leaves him, the sight of you completely stripping him of any oxygen.

For one, of course, the two of you color-coordinated to match one another so, while Choso was wearing a predominately black suit and tie, the dress shirt beneath his suit jacket was a deep and rich purple, you were wearing this black dress that had this sparkle to it and as the light hit you, a purple shade reflected off you.

Even with the beautiful dress you were wearing, Choso wasn’t paying much attention to it– his eyes were all over your face and he felt himself falling in love all over again. His feet slowly moved on their own, taking careful steps toward you as you approached him.

“Hi Cho,” You greeted simply, this pretty little smile spread across your face. He looked sexy put together and dressed in a suit but you hoped your face didn’t show how attractive you found him.

The second he got close enough, his hands went to the sides of your neck, thumbs near your jaw as he pulled you close to him and carefully forced your head up, gazing down at you completely starstruck. “Hi princess,” He murmurs.

The moment was really cute and that damn nickname made you smile for the millionth time but then you hear Shoko’s voice in the background, “Oh, and he calls you princess?” She comments, “Gotta’ love these nicknames, sweets.” She teases.

Your face gets all hot suddenly and you glance past Choso and to her, “Hush,” You hummed playfully.

She laughs and then goes to walk away but you don’t really get to see that as Choso turns your head back to him.

You tilt your head at the man who’s still just staring at you, “What?”

“You’re…” He blinks, trying to find the right words when there’s a million he could use to describe you right now.

You snicker and lean forward a bit, “I’m…? C’mon, get it out…” You tease.

Choso tilts his head opposite of yours and leans down until his lips are hovering over yours, “Everything I could’ve ever asked for,” He whispers.

You gush and find it difficult not to smile as his lips press into yours for just a moment. Then, when he pulls away, he appears completely mesmerized by you.

You drag a hand up to his torso and just barely feel against the suit he’s wearing, “Am I really?”

“Yes, yes you are,” Choso breathes out, his hands dropping to your waist.

A long moment of you two just admiring one another floats by and you don’t think your heart and mind have ever been so full and content with something or someone before. The two of you felt like two idiotic teenagers going on their first date with the way both of you smiled like fools at one another before laughing.

It was awkward but this cute kinda awkward. And that only lasted until Shoko spoke again, “Okay kids, this is the part where you go out and have fun!” She says to the two of you.

You and Choso laugh before looking to the woman in sync. “Right, I just got distracted by my handsome soon-to-be boyfriend’s face,” You comment sweetly.

Choso quickly looks at you again and he has to bite back the urge to smither the side of your face in kisses. Even the title ‘soon-to-be boyfriend’ drove him crazy. He wanted this night to go by slowly and quickly at the same time.

“Uhuh,” Shoko snickers, “Whatever you say, can you guys just go now? I want the apartment to myself please,” She requests with a smile on her face.

You and Choso chuckle one last time before finally moving to exit, your hand flying up to wave goodbye to your roommate, who mouths out a have fun to you just before you leave.

Oh it was sure to be a night to remember for you. On your first official date with Choso, everything should go perfectly, right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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nwjws · 1 year ago

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WHO THE HELL IS NI-KI ?! - NRK SMAU

; SYNOPSIS - school sucks. especially when everyone's avoiding you like the plague - all because you're the principal's daughter. so it comes as a surprise when a strip of paper falls out of your locker one day, with a corny pick up line written on it. now you only have one question on your mind: who the hell is nishimura riki?

; PAIRING - riki x fem!reader

; STATUS - complete!

; TAGS - smau, fluff, crack (more like attempt at humor), high school au, riki is a menace, hyper x calm dynamics?? ; WARNINGS - swearing, dirty jokes/pick up lines (maybe??)

; AUTHOR’S CORNER ! i just love starting something new before finishing my other wips 😍 i've made it so the first part of the pick up line is on the masterlist here, and the punchline is on the title of the actual chapter. this is inspired by this pjo smau on ao3 (LMAO??) + my own experiences bc i also slipped a bunch of pick up lines in random lockers

SPAM LIKE = BLOCK !

➼ PROFILES ! losers club ; riki's pr team

PROLOGUE ! all the good pick up lines are taken…

ONE ! i don't need google anymore...

TWO ! i’m so jealous of ur phone…

THREE ! are you fortnite?…

BONUS ! let's play a game of tag...

FOUR ! do you listen to newjeans?…

FIVE ! "nothing is faster than light"...

SIX ! something is wrong with my phone…

SEVEN ! do you play quidditch?...

EIGHT ! this doughnut is pretty sweet…

NINE ! you look familiar, did we share a class?…

TEN ! we should probably social distance…

ELEVEN ! are you 0x1 = lovesong?…

TWELVE ! are you an unfunny meme?…

THIRTEEN ! hey, is it morning yet?…

13.5 ! i can’t hold a conversation…

FOURTEEN ! instead of liking my message…

FIFTEEN ! your hand looks heavy… ↳ written [2.1k] + smau

SIXTEEN ! be careful bumping into others…

SEVENTEEN ! are you a trap?…

EIGHTEEN ! are you the children i keep in my basement?…

NINETEEN ! is it the fire works…

TWENTY ! i’ll give you a kiss… ↳ written [1.5k]

EPILOGUE ! i can’t think of any more pick up lines…

; TAGLIST (closed!) perm . @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze networks . @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels . send an ask or comment here to be added!

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

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Hey love, could you pretty please do an Aaron x reader where it’s there wedding day and she starts getting real bad anxiety about marrying him. Not because she doesn’t want to but because she feels like he is surrounded by so many amazing people who uplift him that she could never compare. Just in the mood for fluffy comfort Aaron 🥹

enough

cw; fem!reader, a LOT of angst but it's comforting??, heavy 5x9 references (i'm sobbing actually), anxiety descriptions, aaron cries 😭, comfort and a happy ending don't worry!!!! wc; 2.4k

"nervous jitters?"

"you could say that." you replied - while staring off into space, while bouncing your crossed leg, while kicking your slipper on and off your heel. your head moved downward as your fingers clutched onto the seat of the chair you were sat in, harshly enough for your knuckles to turn white.

jj pulled the curling wand away from your face an inch, "careful, try not to move."

"sorry."

yet another wave of guilt rippled through you, as this wasn't how you should feel on your wedding day.

last night, you were surrounded by the people you now consider family, celebrating a new chapter. or rather, a beginning. aaron's permanent grin was engraved in your mind; you've never seen him so carefree, happily conversing with his colleagues, gazing at you as if he'd won the lottery (to him, he had). you were positive there wasn't a second where his arms hadn't been wrapped around you.

before parting ways for the night, he had pulled you to the side, to a more secluded area. he gave you long, sweet, deep kisses, holding your body close to his, as you weren't going to see each other until the two of you officially, and finally, became one.

just as him, you had been on a similar high, more than ready for this next adventure, in pure disbelief that in less than twenty-four hours, you'd be a hotchner. so now, whatever this was, had quite literally come out of absolutely nowhere.

when you awoke this morning, rather than the excitement you had expected, you were greeted with an empty, terrifying pit in your stomach.

as the day carried on, pre-wedding activities in full motion, it followed, and the void within only grew and grew. it was gravely unsettling; you were more fidgety, on edge, you hadn't been your usual talkative self. and despite being surrounded by your newfound family - jj, penelope, and emily more specifically - you couldn't help but choose to remain alone in your thoughts.

jj studied your face through the mirror, before securing your hairpiece in place. "there." her hands found your shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. "sit tight, i'll be right back."

you nodded, blinking your eyes to prevent the budding tears from slipping - and to not ruin penelope's handiwork, mascara sure to stain your cheeks. she left, leaving you alone.

but as promised jj returned no more than five minutes later, only she remained at the doorway, her head peeking in. "someone's here to see you."

after giving you a consoling smile, as if she knew - profilers - she vanished, leaving door slightly ajar.

your hand had only just touched the knob when the door moved a centimeter back, slight pressure holding it still to refrain from opening fully.

"don't open it all the way."

"aaron?" at the sound of his voice, you fought the instant urge to sob. but the utmost amount of comfort filled you too. it took a second, but you found your voice, "you're not supposed to be here."

"well technically, i just can't see you."

"still." you insisted. your tone was flat, rather than being full of giddiness due to your future husband sneakily paying you a forbidden visit - like it should've. "they're going to be looking for you."

"then let them." aaron answered simply, not concerned about that in the slightest. "are you alright?"

you immediately fell silent, and aaron patiently waited a minute, but still - nothing. the extended period of quietness, scared him, given the day's event.

please, not cold feet.

and given the current circumstances, there was only so much he could do. aaron dropped his hand to his side, weaving through the small gap. "here, give me your hand."

your hand quickly found his, the promptness allowing aaron to breathe. the familiar weight felt like home; your hand always fitting perfectly within his. your hands always cold, his warm. yours soft, his rough.

his thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, an invitation to open up. "what's on your mind?"

you bit your lip in thought, taking a heavy enough breath aaron could hear it without straining his ears.

"honey?"

"first, i want to preface this that i do want to marry you. i don't want you thinking otherwise." your voice was firm, meaning every word.

"okay..." here was a brief hesitancy in his voice despite your promise; a tinge of worry, some question. however, he managed to keep his voice steady, for the most part. you, however, still recognized the waver of uncertainty.

"just," you released a breath, your voice small. "i envy you."

aaron was quiet for a moment, and when he did speak, the confusion was obvious in his voice. "you envy me?"

"you have," you took a breath, gripping onto his hand. "so many wonderful amazing people around you... i don't even know where to start. they've been with you, stuck with you, for far longer than i have. how do i compare to that? god, dave's practically paying for this whole thing. because of you, for you. no matter who you would've married, he would've done exactly the same. i'm not special."

"sweethear-"

"i want to be enough for you." tears pinched at your eyes, your hold on his hand lessening - which frighteningly felt like you were letting go completely. "you deserve," you took another breath, and this one rattled through you. "everything. and i'm afraid i never will be."

aaron only clutched onto your hand tighter, refusing to part. his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, taking a silent, deep breath. "are you wearing your dress yet?"

after all that, you weren't too sure of how he would respond, but you certainly hadn't expected that. "no? once-"

aaron released your hand. and after looking in both directions of the hall to be certain he was in the clear, he swiftly entered, the door clicking shut behind him.

"aaron." you stared at him, your eyes wide in alarm. you barely had the time to process him in his tuxedo, or have the thought to push him out. "you can't be-"

"enough?" aaron looked at you, baffled. exasperation, pain, and love all present in his eyes. "how can you say that?"

"i-"

"you... are everything. my everything." he moved to your left, pacing away for a moment, quickly internalizing a way to get it across solidly, so you wouldn't dare question otherwise again. he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "did i ever tell you, what haley told me before she died?"

you blinked in surprise, but shook your head. while you knew the story, offered reassurances after nightmares and the topic of haley had never been off limits, aaron had never gone into detail over... the final moments. you never pushed, never asked - if it was something he chose to keep to himself, to have that part of haley close to him and only him - of course you respected that. they were vulnerable, painful memories, not easy to relive.

he sobered, his posture and expression changing before you, alight with a ghost of the past. a tender, solemn fondness was in his tone as he recalled the line. "'love is the most important thing.'"

your eyes studied his face, silently urging him to continue.

"and while our relationship had it's hardships, she wanted jack to believe in it - love - and had me promise her that i'd show him."

"aaron..."

"he believes, because of you."

"i-"

"i believe," his eyes found yours, full of a sincereness you've never seen from him. "because of you."

you opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out.

"haley was right." he chuckled softly, with a small shake of his head, "honestly, and while i understand why now, for a long time i was furious she made me promise that. because i wouldn't be able to keep my word. before that... day, i'd already given up. lost hope that i could find it again, that it was even possible, or whether i deserved it. haley and i were together for a long time, you know that. being with her was all i knew, what i was used to, and part of me thought maybe someday, we'd manage to work things out. and suddenly, she was gone. it was too late - i was too late. i failed her, and i'd continue to fail her."

"and then you came into my life, and turned my world around completely. never did i think i would love again, let alone get on one knee and ask someone to marry me. but here we are. here you are."

aaron took your face into his hands, as delicately as he possibly could - as if he feared he would break you.

"because of you, i kept my promise to haley. jack knows, he sees the love i have for you every day. and although he 'ew's' at the sight of us kissing here and there, he'll grow up understanding. he'll know the importance, as promised."

"and you saved me. you saved from a looming downward spiral. i saw it happen to gideon, it's happened to countless others within the bureau, and i could've been the next. i told someone once; it's consuming, this job will eat you up if you let it. but instead of letting it, instead of ruining my relationship with jack, you managed to pull me from that impending darkness i was headed toward."

tears were continuously trickling down your cheeks, utterly speechless.

"you're enough. god you're more than enough. and if that doesn't... i'll prove it to you everyday if i have to. if you'll let me." a broken exhale left his lips, choked up. "i promise."

still unable to find the words, and actions speaking louder, your fingers grabbed onto his tux, pulling his body to yours and wrapping your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest. in the back of your mind, you made a mental apology to penelope, and hoped you weren't soiling aaron's dress shirt too badly.

aaron's shoulders dropped at the contact, in relief. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and holding you close. next, he's the one who took a shaky breath.

"so, i'm the one who should be afraid."

"what?" your voice cracked, peering up at him, your chin on his torso.

"baggage." aaron sighed, tearing his eyes away from yours, his hands running along your back soothingly - or rather, to soothe himself. "i'm the widowed father. i'm the one who's never around. i'm the one who's scarred, in more ways than one. i don't want to limit you, to keep you from a life you've always imagined for yourself. like i did with haley."

"don't say that."

"every day, i wonder why i'm the one you chose to be with. wonder why you love me. i think that it's too good to be true, that i'll wake up. or someday, you will."

"aaron."

he sighed, tears sliding down his cheek.

"you are not scarred, aaron hotchner." you cupped his face and angled him so he was looking at you, wiping the droplets away with the pads of your thumb. "far from it. the life i imagine, is with you. this is it." you found it in you to let out a small laugh, refreshing after the morning you've had. "that's why i was so worried."

he also couldn't help but laugh gently through his tears. "you shouldn't be."

your hand slid to the back of his neck, winding your fingers through the nape of his hair. "you've, very unfairly, dealt with the unfathomable. the unimaginable. but that doesn't make you broken. i find it admirable actually, and it's one of the things i love about you. you're strong aaron. to go through something like that, and come out on the other side of it, both the tragedy and the recovery part of it. a lot of people wouldn't be able to do the same."

aaron looked at you, listening, his head tilting as he leaned into your touch.

"despite what you think, you're a good father. i adore you with jack. and with the horrors you see, every day, you still come home with a calm face. you never fail to give us your all - your sweet loving self. you're always present, even if you're physically aren't here. because you're out there making this world a safer place for so many others. for jack, for me. you really don't give yourself enough credit."

aaron remained silent, his gaze beginning to tear away from yours. but you stopped him, with a finger under his chin to direct his focus back to you.

"you may have scars, but they aren't you. they may contribute, but they aren't you."

"are you sure?" his voice fell to a whisper, eyes desperately searching yours, his own dampened.

you nodded earnestly, your bottom lip quivering a small amount. "i've never been more sure of anything. i promise."

and with that, aaron's lips found yours, kissing you even more deeply than he had the previous night. from the urgency that soon developed, it was clear just how needed this conversation was, on both ends. providing closure, clarity. the kiss sent a buzz right through you, instantaneously making up for the all the lost time you had spent brooding.

you forced yourself to pull away - only when air was needed, and to simply stop. you would've gladly kissed him longer, and aaron likewise, but the two of you were on a schedule.

his forehead fell against yours, a rather boyish, adorable smile on his face. "so, are we good?"

you nodded, your lips pulling into a smile as well, the giddiness you've been missing finally present. you reached up, gently blotting away any lingering tears of his. "we've always been."

"wedding still on?"

you rolled your eyes, gently smacking his chest and making him laugh. "duh."

"okay." he grinned, pecking your lips gently. "i better go. if someone catches me in here-"

"-you'll be in trouble."

"big trouble." he grinned, pulling your hands forward to bring you in for yet another kiss. "i love you. you never saw me."

you chased his lips - just one more. "never did."

aaron laughed, his brown eyes just sparkling. "i'll see you soon. you know where to find me, i'll be waiting."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

Text

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty Three - She-Devil

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.3K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: light smut, oral (fem!receiving)

Just as he said he would, Daniel took care of everything. He got Milo moved to the same school as Olivia and took him out for any extra supplies he might have needed.

Ever since he promised to take care of everything, Milo and his Momma had stayed at his house. It stirred something inside of Daniel, a need to have them there permanently. It certainly would be easier than her stopping off at their house to feed the cat when she took Milo to and from school

(For those of you worried about the cat, don't be. She was able to roam the house ad much as she liked. She could sleep anywhere, was jumping on the kitchen table (were she wasn't allowed) and, every time she was hungry, she had someone come and fill her bowl up).

On Milo's first day at the school, they drove them in together. She sat in the passenger seat, Daniels hand resting on her thigh as he drover the four of them to the school. It was his music playing through the speakers for the duration of the drive.

"How you feeling, Milo?" She asked as she looked in the rear view mirror.

Milo shrugged and she couldn't help but sigh. At least this time he'd have Olivia there with him.

Leaving Milo at the school gates was maybe one of the hardest things she ever had to do. She kissed his head as she said goodbye, fussing over him until Daniel gently pulled her away.

"He's gonna be fine," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Daniel drove her to work after that. Even if she hadn't expressed it, he knew just how nervous she was to go to work while Milo was at school. She was just expecting a phone call, a member of staff calling her to pick him up because he felt sick.

But she made it through the day without getting a phone call. There was a small part of her that was worried the school had called Daniel, taking Milo home without her knowledge.

Daniel picked her up from work. "I think we should get them McDonalds when we pick them up," said Daniel as she climbed into the passenger seat.

A grin split across her face. "You mean Milo stayed for the entire day?" She asked him.

Daniel nodded. "I didn't hear anything from the school."

They got the kids McDonalds before heading home (stopping to feed the cat on the way). As much as Daniel wanted to ask her to move in, he bit his tongue. He could wait just a little bit longer.

For the next week, Daniel took the kids to school while she took herself to work. When Daniel wasn't busy, he brought her some lunch, spending as much time with her as he could before his next Grand Prix.

A benefit of Daniels big house was the distance between the rooms. There was no way the kids could hear what was going on in their bedroom.

Daniel had her on the edge of the bed, on his knees in front of her with his face buried in her cunt. He had become an expert at using his tongue to bring wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her, until her body was convulsing and she was pushing him away with oversensitivity.

When she came so hard that her legs shook, Daniel crawled up her body and kissed her. He kissed down her neck and held her close until she was ready for him.

Sometimes it was a night long affair. Sometimes she lasted just three rounds, out of breath as Daniel ran the bath or started the shower for the two of them.

When Daniel went off to the Grand Prix on the Wednesday, Olivia went to stay with her mother. She didn't want to go, crossing her arms and pouting with furrowed brows as Daniel pulled up outside of her mothers house.

He'd given Y/N a key to the house, told her that she could stay while he was gone. She wanted to, she really kid, found comfort in the space that was his. But she couldn't didn't feel right about it. They weren't at that stage in their relationship.

So, she and Milo stayed in their house for the first time in a month.

Without Daniel there, she took Milo to school. She hadn't taken him to school since his first day, and she couldn't deny she was excited to again. Milo told his momma all about what he expected from the day ahead as she drove him.

"Danny normally stays in the car while Olivia and I get out," he said as his mother pulled into the car park.

"Oh?" His mother said as she pulled into a space. "Why, Milo?" She asked and killed the engine.

"Because we're cool," he answered and picked up his bag. He took a minute to look around the car park, spotted Olivia and climbed out of the car.

She had to sit and watch as he made his way over to his best friend. Her little munchkin was growing up. Olivia spotted her in the car and waved before she and Milo headed into the school. He finally looked happy.

But Olivia wasn't the only one that spotted her. She didn't see as Olivia's mother climbed out of her car and strode across the car park, fury written on her face. She muttered something under her breath and approached the car.

Part of Olivia's mother wanted to pull open the car door and yank Y/N out by her hair. But, instead, she knocked on the window.

Y/N rolled down the window, wearing as polite a smile as she could muster as she looked at Olivia's mother. "Hi, Kerry-Ann," she said to her, always remaining polite.

Kerry-Ann gave her as polite a smile as she began speaking. "I'm surprised to see you and your son here," she said and checked her sharp, talon-like nails. "I didn't think you'd be able to afford to send him somewhere like this."

She should have known this was coming. She looked down at her lap and back at Kerry-Ann. "Yeah, well, only the best for my son."

"Danny is paying for this, isn't he?" She asked suddenly. "He's paying for everything and you're just using him." Her tone was harsh, accusing, but she didn't bite. "You're fucking him for his money, aren't you?"

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "Come on now, Kerry-Ann. I'm not you."

"He doesn't love you!" She suddenly shouted. "He won't love you and he'll always put his career first. He did that to me and I'm the mother of his child."

Y/N sucked in a breath. Finally, she turned towards Kerry-Ann. "Get your hand off of my car, move away from my car and piss off," she said her voice low.

Surprisingly, Kerry-Ann did exactly as she said. She stepped away from the car, allowing Y/N to pull out of the parking space. "WHORE!" Kerry-Ann shouted at the top of her lungs.

Y/N drove away from the school. Her heart was beating so incredibly fast as she made her way to work. Even when she got to work, she couldn't concentrate, oh so angered by her interaction with Kerry-Ann.

Kerry-Ann hadn't said much to her. But the little things she had said had really gotten to her, riled her up to the point where she could barely work. Her co-workers noticed, but they didn't say anything, looking between each other as she completed far less work than she was supposed to.

Kerry-Ann was a bitch and she knew it. But she couldn't stop the doubt from creeping into her mind.

a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long but we're nearly done with this series (maybe four or five more chapters to go). I'm considering eventually doing a series of one shots about their future, raising the kids, them as teenagers and things like that

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minseok-smaus @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @lightdragonrayne @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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hannie-dul-set · 4 months ago

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나비 / NABI — ONE.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, alcohol consumption, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries. WORD COUNT. 9k (out of 40k).

NOTE. hehe...it’s here. this first part is a little short and slow, but things are gonna start picking up from here! please let me know what you think so far 😭😭 half my soul was injected into writing the entirety of this i will never be the same again 💔 also, i recommend listening to beomgyu’s covers while reading this and the upcoming chapters HAHA anyhow, please enjoy!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

YOU STILL DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. Ever since you and he reconciled and publicly became friends again, your life has never known quiet— all thanks to the countless insects constantly buzzing around him, and by consequence around you, every damn day. And it’s not like you can keep avoiding him. Choi Beomgyu has made the executive decision to take advantage of the guilt you’ve been feeling, so for the past month, you’ve been a slave to his whims.

Responding to 3AM ice cream runs even though you’re swamped with assignments. Going to parties hosted by people you don’t know the fucking names of because he keeps calling you a boring loser. And, the cherry on top, having to deal with Lee Heeseung’s even more annoying presence, just like how you’d predicted he’d behave if he ever finds out you and Beomgyu are friends.

Which he did. Much to your despair and agony.

“Beomgyu, your girlfriend’s here to see you.”

Case in point. You spare him nothing but an eye roll when he lets you in the clubroom of the, ahem, coding club. You’re here because Beomgyu texted you to fetch him a matcha latte and since you’re playing as his slave at the moment (and until your patience runs out), you obliged out of the kindness of your heart, only to get a truckload of teasing in return.

“Oh, hey, what’s up,” Yeonjun throws you a peace sign from their worn out sofa by the door the moment you enter. He’s accompanied by a good number of chip bags on the cushions.

“Hey,” Hanbin greets you as well when you pass by their alleged meeting table. Which, by the way, has stacks of leftover takeout containers and some empty, some half-empty plastic jugs of water. “Beomgyu is on the computer.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. This clubroom is a fucking gremlin hole.

“You know what.” Your path towards Choi Beomgyu is interrupted by Hyunjin, suddenly popping out of the half-wall separating the lounge area from the computers at the back. You jump, because what the fuck? “My heart races everytime you come here. I still get flashbacks from the day you threatened to wreck our safe haven. I think you gave me PTSD.”

Ah, yes. That day. That was eventful. It was the first time you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu cry.

“Serves you right, gossip snorter,” you say. “Out of the way, I have business to deal with.”

Hyunjin indeed gets out of your way, and there he reveals a row of four computers lined up against the wall with their assigned nerds mashing on the keyboards and yelling profanities at matching game screens. You zero in on the one on the far left corner. Surprisingly, Beomgyu is relatively calm compared to the others. You tap on his shoulder. He turns his head around.

“Oh,” he says, pulling his office chair back from out of the desk with a swivel while removing the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck. You notice Jeongin seated beside him, who looks up at you only for a moment only to flinch back to the screen. “You’re here?”

No, shit. You jangle the latte in front of his face, head cocked, and he reaches out for it. But then you quickly jerk back your hand before he can snatch it from you. “Nuh-uh. Pay up.”

“Tch,” Beomgyu clicks his tongue and shoots you a bitter look. “Hyung, can you toss me my jacket?”

Someone from behind does indeed toss him his jacket, and at that very moment as well, Heeseung decides that it’s a great time to indulge in his newly founded hobby. “Hey, how about me? Why didn’t you get me a drink?” He joins the already crowded crevice in the back and swings an arm around your shoulder. “You get a boyfriend and forget all your friends. Have you forgotten that you two got together because of me? I’m hurt, I’m so hurt.”

Your face scrunches up. “Literally, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my boyfriend.” You elbow Heeseung off, eliciting another whine from him. When your eyes snap back at Beomgyu, you see that he’s preoccupied with going through wallet. You kick his chair. “Say something, dipshit.”

Beomgyu hands you a bill and exchanges it with the matcha latte. You wait for him to speak. He takes a long sip, pulls his face away from the straw with a grimace, hands back the drink to you, then says, “What she said.”

You look at him, drink now back in your hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Keep it,” he says, putting his headphones back on. “Don’t you have class?”

Your jaw clenches. Fucker made you run an errand for nothing. He gives you an asshat smile of goodbye then spins his chair back to his computer. You scoff and smack the back of his head, causing his headphones to slip off. “Bye.”

“Hey!”

“Later,” Heeseung bids you off, and it’s followed by a chorus of goodbyes from the inhabitants of the testosterone infested, stinky gamer cave. Seriously, every time you drop by here, you feel an ounce of your soul shriveling up and rotting away. Yeonjun very politely opens the door for you. You hear one of them yell out before you leave.

“Come over tomorrow. Hanbin hyung’s treating us to pizza!”

And with that, you’re finally free, matcha latte in hand and a desire to breathe in some fresh air because you’re pretty sure the air is polluted in there. But still. It’s been a lot easier to breathe recently than when you two weren’t on good terms.

“Saved you a seat.”

You make it to class two minutes before the schedule. Minjeong proudly taps on the seat next to her, and you take the invitation. “As you should,” you hum, taking out your notes from your bag, and not long after Sungchan arrives and lands on the spot next to you.

It’s the week before finals. Prof Shin starts the class and decides to fuck all of your study schedules by giving a last minute assignment due next week as well.

“Does this guy want to give us depression before the summer or some shit?” Minjeong complains the moment your professor leaves the lecture hall.“I swear to god, if another prof gives us an assignment due over the break, I’m killing myself.”

“You two have plans over the break?” asks Sungchan, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and the three of you head out for lunch, funneling out into the hallway along with the rest of your blockmates.

“I’m going home,” says Minjeong.

“I have summer classes,” you answer.

Sungchan stops in his tracks. “You serious?”

“Yup.”

“You bet on it.”

He looks at the both of you like you’re a bunch of withering old ladies and he’s very much unimpressed. “Make some time for the last week. I’m throwing the wildest summer rager and you two can’t miss it.”

You’re pretty sure you replied with something along the lines of an agreement, but you’re not quite sure. The thought completely slips out of your head throughout the next week because, well, finals. And before you know it, your first semester of uni comes to a close, and summer comes crashing in at full swing.

#1: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. It’s eight in the morning. Monday. You’re standing in front of Choi Beomgyu’s door.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s the start of your summer semester so you thought you ought to make something healthy just to kick things off on a good note, but as you were scavenging ingredients for fried rice, you realized you were out of salt so that’s why you’re here. You knock on his door again, three times, and you manage to finish watching five more Instagram reel clips before Beomgyu finally answers the door.

Creak.

“Took you long eno—”

You’re caught off guard by the mop of shaggy hair greeting you, clearly having just woken up. His eyebrows are knitted together while he lets out a yawn. He’s in a tank top. It rides up a little when he stretches his arm to reach for an itch on his back.

“What?” he rasps with a grunt, squinting at you after he’s finally settled himself into reality. “Why the hell are you up so early?”

You clear your throat. “Got any salt?”

Beomgyu blinks at you, processing your words. Then he steps back, points a thumb towards his kitchen, and nudges his head in the same direction. “Go crazy.”

With that, Beomgyu lets you monopolize his kitchen cupboards while he flops onto the sofa. You laugh seeing him practically melt into the cushions. He’s never been a morning person. You’re pretty sure he fell asleep like three hours ago.

“I’m gonna steal some of your chives too,” you inform. Beomgyu makes a muffled noise that you assume is a yes, so you go ahead and take the liberty. When you pop out of his kitchen area, you see him in a not very spine-healthy posture on the same sofa while scrolling through his phone. “I’ll drop off some bokkeumbap later.”

Beomgyu’s eyes flit up from his phone and he wiggles into a more normal position. “Do you have plans today?”

“Class,” you answer on your way back out.

“It’s summer?” he says. “Did your dumb ass get your calendars mixed up?”

You roll your eyes, stopping right before the door with your hand on the knob and turn your head to face him. “I thought I could use the early credits so I won’t have to take too many classes in my fourth year. So I could focus on my internship and all.”

There’s a pause. You can see the three dots slowly appearing in succession above Beomgyu’s bedhead. “Oh,” he says. There’s a drop in his voice. Only for a second. “Well, have fun, nerd.”

You stick your tongue out and leave his apartment with your borrowed goods, returning once more after you’ve finished cooking to give him a portion. Honestly, without the food your moms send over, you’re pretty sure he’d be living exclusively off of takeout.

Anyhow, you head to campus for your first summer lecture, and— for the first time god knows how long— your entire day is spent with a lingering, and almost unusual echo of quiet.

“That’s it for our syllabus. We’ll be starting our full swing of classes next week. See you.”

When you exit the lecture hall, the hallway is near empty. The courtyard too, with only a few students littered about underneath the midday sun. It’s so quiet, it’s weird. Around this time, you’d usually be having lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong, sometimes Beomgyu, sometimes Heeseung, but that brat’s not around right now either because he’s on vacation.

Not having anything to do, you decide to stop by the campus cafe— Horangnabi. You don’t go here often, committed to the shop near your apartment because, well, it’s more convenient for your morning coffees, but you weren’t able to grab one earlier since you cooked breakfast. Might as well get a latte before you leave campus.

“Hi, welcome!”

You’re greeted by the barista, and like most of campus, it’s pretty empty inside as well. "A spanish latte, please. Iced.” While making your order, a sign on the counter catches your eye.

Part-timers, now hiring. You blink, letting it settle for a moment. Maybe for too long of a moment, because the whir of the milk frother snaps back your attention.

“Are you interested?”

The barista slides you your drink over the counter with a smile. You take it and press your lips together in a moment of thought.

You only have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and it’s too inconvenient, not to mention expensive to go home, back and forth from Seoul to Daegu and vice versa, on the days in between. Most of your friends are on vacation or went back to their hometowns over the break so you have no one to hang out with over the summer. And you could use the extra money.

“I don’t have any experience, though,” you tell her.

“That’s fine. You’ll get a few days of training,” she answers.

Tempting. You’re almost convinced. “What if I just want to work for the summer? Can I quit when the next semester starts?”

“A lot of students do that,” she hums. You see her take a square of tissue paper from the display, jotting down a series of numbers before sliding it over to you as well. “Julie. Call me if you wanna take the bait.”

You spare one more second to ponder. Then you take the number from under her fingers and carefully stuff it into your pocket. “Thanks.”

The heat has finally settled the moment you exit the cafe, a little bell jingle trailing you from behind, and you take a mental note to bring an umbrella with you from this day forward. Their coffee is good, you have to admit. If you work there for a good month or two, maybe you’d even end up saving cash by making your own drinks instead of having to buy them.

You decide to take the path through the parking lot to make your exit. There’s more trees around, meaning more shade because it’s really freaking hot. It’s very bare in the lot. You pass by a few cars, of which you assume belong to faculty and staff, until one of them honks at you, and you flinch to a halt.

Another honk. Your brows furrow. Looking around, you try to find the culprit, but you end up moving your head in just the right direction for the sun to beam its light directly into your eyes, blinding you temporarily, and you wince. God damn it. You hear another honk again, and you feel yourself start to get irritated. It’s coming from behind you. You spin your heels, vision still muddy from the direct sun attack, but nevertheless you start walking.

“Seriously, who the hell keeps fucking— oh!”

You bump into someone. You feel them balance you by your shoulders.

“You should’ve seen how dumb you looked.” You hear a snicker. Of fucking course, it’s Choi Beomgyu. Who else would it be? “But hey, you make a pretty good pigeon jerking your head around like that.”

“Fuck you,” you jab his arms off. “What are you even doing here?”

Beomgyu notices your coffee and takes a shameless sip from it before answering, “Get in the car. It’s so freaking hot out, jesus.”

You don’t really have a choice because he practically shoves you into the passenger’s seat. So gentle. You nearly spill your drink all over when your ass lands on the leather cushion.

“I was just about to sleep again after you dropped off the food earlier,” he explains while starting the car, and you watch him intently. Whenever your schedules matched, you’d sometimes go to and from uni together. But you can’t seem to get used to the image of your friend acting like a responsible adult. It’s fucking with you a bit. “But then I got a message from Prof Kim, asking if I could come by the office today.”

He pulls out of the parking lot, and the cool air finally settles into your skin. “For what?” Beomgyu lets out a groan. Must’ve been for a not great reason.

“The EMC department is hosting a conference of some sorts this year and he asked if I could be a volunteer facilitator, ask a few others from the department to help and join along too.”

“Oh? You gonna do it?”

“Ugh. I don’t know.” You pass through security out the main gate and start heading back to your apartment. “I wanted to come home over the break but the working days for this thing will apparently last throughout the summer. Prof Kim did say this will be minused from my volunteer hours, but I don’t know.” Beomgyu then gives you a side eye all of a sudden. “Speaking of. You undutiful daughter.”

“What?” you leer.

“Your mom hoped that you’d be home for the summer, too. Why didn’t you ask her first before enrolling for summer classes?”

“Why the hell do you two keep talking about me behind my back?” You’re shriveling up. Seriously, why does your mom contact him before you? This is getting ridiculous. “And I’m doing all this so I can graduate early and find a job early, by the way. I don’t even have a full week of classes so I can still come home the first week of July.”

Apparently, you two argued for long enough to finally reach your building.

“Tell me when you plan on going home,” he says, leaning against the wall beside your door watching as you key in your passcode to your unit.

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes, smiling. The door unlocks. You push it open. “You’re my free ride after all.”

Now, your expected response from that is another retort from him, how you’ve been exploiting his kindness and whatnot and you’d have to snark back as well. But for some reason Beomgyu just stays quiet. He says nothing, an unreadable look on his face as he looks at yours. You raise a brow.

“What is it this time?”

Choi Beomgyu says nothing. He lifts up an arm, points his index finger near your face, and jabs his finger straight into your forehead.

“I’ll send you a review of your bokkeumbap later.” He laughs at your appalled expression.

“You’d be shocked to find out it’s better than my mom’s,” you say back, a hand tending to the spot he just attacked unprompted.

“You wish.”

“Eat shit.”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

You send him a kick, which he dodges before fleeing into the safety of his apartment. Slippery bastard. Anyhow, you call it a day and settle into your own place. Few hours later, Beomgyu indeed sends you a review of your cooking with a photo of an empty dish attached. Three out of five, he says. Slippery bastard turned ungrateful bastard.

The next day, you’re at Horangnabi again. The night prior, you called Julie’s number and gave her the news that you’re in, and she told you to come an hour before opening so they can get you settled.

You come in with a greeting, and you see Julie look up from behind the counter to wave you in with a smile. “You’re here! Hanbin, come meet our new part-timer.”

At the mention of Hanbin’s name, you immediately double take, and emerging from the door to what you assume is the storage area is indeed the Hanbin you know from the coding club.

“You!” you immediately shriek, almost feeling a hint of betrayal because this is the first time you’ve seen him in daylight, because their clubroom is always so fucking dark. And in something other than the god damned flannels everyone in their club is always so fond of wearing like it’s an unspoken uniform. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, so it is you!” Hanbin happily exclaims. “I thought it was just someone with the same name.”

Julie was delighted to find out you two already knew each other. You skip all the necessary introductions and jump in head first into getting acquainted with the equipment instead.

“We’ll go through all of the drinks first. I also have the recipes printed out over here in case you need reference.”

Having a familiar face in an unfamiliar workplace is indeed a pleasant surprise, but there’s also a familiar sense of dread to have one of Beomgyu’s coding club buddies in here. Granted, he doesn’t annoy or tease you as much as the others, but those guys have already given themselves a label in your head, and Sung Hanbin is no exception to your collective bad impression.

“And then you twist the handle— just like that.”

You’re in the middle of your first latte, the espresso machine up and running. After which, Hanbin teaches you how to use the milk steamer without any difficulty, and you pour the milk into the same cup as the espresso you made earlier. “Wow,” Hanbin remarks. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I think it’s all thanks to the caffeine I’ve ingested,” you say. “Skill buff. Or whatever you guys say.”

Hanbin laughs and compliments your latte once more. Needless to say, it doesn’t take long for your discomfort to completely disappear because at this point in time, Beomgyu’s friends would already start asking you about him— where he is, why isn’t he with you, etcetera etcetera. But his name has not left Hanbin’s mouth even once, and it’s already the end of your first day.

“It’s always slow here, except on rare occasions, so you’ll be able to handle it with no problems,” Julie says before sending you off. “Anyway, Hanbin and I will be around during your shifts, so you can run to us in case a particularly grumpy student comes to order.”

Hanbin gives you a thumbs up and a bright grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And that’s how you established your new routine for the rest of the summer. It’s just like Julie said. Things are pretty slow. The only notable thing that happened on your second day at work is Beomgyu sending you a very unflattering, low-angle selfie under the blinding lights of the faculty office glaring behind his head with the text message that he said yes to volunteering for the conference. Sad face emoji included.

On Thursday, Julie taught you how to make a damn good waffle. On Monday next week, you got your first shitty customer. Finally on Friday, you decided to open your skeleton closet to Hanbin, because not once since your a little over a week of working here has he asked you about the whereabouts of Choi Beomgyu.

“You and Beomgyu are friends right?”

There aren’t any customers except for the regulars from Bio that are almost always found in the corner of the cafe until closing. Hanbin is wiping the already squeaky clean counter because there is nothing to do. “Yes?” he answers, a smile on his face, but with a tone that’s evidently confused. “So are you?”

Christ. Now you’re the one bringing that bastard up. “Right. It’s just a little odd.” There, you bring up what you’ve observed so far since working here, and the fact that you and him have shared actual conversations not involving your old friend, and how it’s pretty surprising to you. “One time, I thought someone was going to confess to me. Turns out he just wanted me to convince Beomgyu to help him rank up in League.”

“Well, I don’t really need any help in that area.” Hanbin laughs, shaking his head. “Sounds like you and him have been friends for a long time.”

Neither of you have told anyone about your history. No reason in particular. Beomgyu just never found the need to tell his friends that you’ve known each other from birth, and neither have you. But Hanbin’s presence, when separated from the rest of his friends, just feels like a blanket of comfort, and you find yourself spilling your guts to him— including the previous three to four month cold war you caused and the reasons.

Hanbin is patient. He listens the entire time with an attentiveness you can only compare to a saint. “I guess being a social butterfly has its unintentional consequences. I’m just happy to hear you two made up.”

“I probably would never regularly step foot in your dungeon hole otherwise.”

He laughs. “The guys in the club also tease you a lot, don’t they? Doesn’t it bother you?”

You press your lips together. “Yeah, but at this point it’s just white noise to me now.”

Hanbin looks at you. “That doesn’t mean you enjoy it either.”

Well. He’s not wrong.

Your conversation gets cut short with the cafe bell signaling the entrance of customers. You look at the door. It’s a whole stampede of people. It’s Choi Beomgyu and his friends and you can’t even go on a day of talking about them without them showing up.

“Whoa, I’ve never been here before.”

“Dude, you’re in your third year. Where the hell have you been?”

“Doesn’t Hanbin hyung work here—”

“Yeah, let’s ask him to give us free cookies.”

“Hyunjin, buy me a drink.”

“Buy your own drink, nerd.”

“Hi, I’ll have an iced americano, and a— o-oh, my god.”

You’re face to face with Yang Jeongin who nearly pisses himself upon the recognition that it’s you behind the corner. It dominoes to the rest of the group. You don’t know why they’re being so dramatic. You let out a huff and a sigh. “An iced americano and…?”

Jeongin doesn’t get to answer. Beomgyu unwedges himself from the group and squeezes his way to the counter. “You work here now?”

You cock a brow. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Since when?” he immediately follows up. You’re a little taken aback.

“Since last Tuesday,” you answer after recounting. Beomgyu makes a face that burrows a pit in your stomach.

“You didn’t tell me.”

Okay. Now you’re very taken aback. There’s a cough from the crowd. And then a very intuitive, not-so-hushed remark from one of the boys. “Holy shit. They’re having a lovers’ quarrel.”

It hits a nerve. Hanbin quickly dissuades anything before you could open your mouth. “So, what are you guys ordering?”

The amount of drinks to make and pastries to bring out gets you busy for a while, but you still keep an eye on Beomgyu, watching as he settles back to normal joking mode with his friends while you try to find an opening to talk to him. You and Hanbin finish making all their orders, so you ask him if you can be excused for a moment. He tells you to go ahead and you make your way to Beomgyu, who’s sitting on one of the ends of the three conjoined tables in the more spacious corner of the store.

He’s talking to Yeonjun. When Yeonjun notices you approaching, he immediately quiets down, so you take this as permission to interrupt. You tap on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Hey.” He turns around and looks up. “You good?”

Beomgyu opens his mouth, about to say something— “Ahem,” — but then Yeonjun clears his throat, accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the boys, and they’re suddenly popping out their heads like meerkats in your direction. “Should I give you two some space?”

“What’s going on?”

“They’re having a moment.”

“Oh my god.”

“Do you guys sell popcorn?”

You’re used to their teasing. You’re used to their bullshit, really. You’re fine if they pull on your hair strands inside their clubroom, but for fuck’s sake this is a public space. Heeseung isn’t even around, but it seems like all his clubmates caught his disease. Your bio regulars are sneaking a few glances at the commotion. There are other customers too. You’re visibly annoyed and embarrassed— which doesn’t go over Beomgyu’s head, because he notices. And he also looked like he’s getting irritated.

“Hey, you two should just apologize and make up!”

Beomgyu gets up. You see his jaw clench. Oh no. You quickly grab his arm with a tug before he can do anything— only for Hanbin to show up with a tray, setting it down on their table in a less than gentle manner. They flinch. They shut up. Hanbin sets down a few plates with a chilling smile.

“We don’t have popcorn, but here are your fries,” he says. Wow. “Do you guys want to add anything else?”

There’s a single squeak from the group. “No, we’re good.”

Hanbin hums in acknowledgement and retrieves the tray from the table— not without sending you a thumbs up, to which you mouth a thank you in return. He smiles and nods before going back to the counter, and there you feel Beomgyu removing your hold on his arm from a while ago, and you quickly flit your attention back to him, fearing that you might’ve upset him. Again. Like last time.

“Wait—”

“Are you trying to slack off?” he jeers. You look at him, a little surprised. Beomgyu nudges his head to the counter and you see a few customers filtering in. He did remove your hand from his arm, but he’s still holding it. “I’m not upset because you didn’t tell me you started working here. Well. I was. A bit. But not anymore.”

You feel his thumb run through your knuckles, going over the bumps of each joint, followed by a gentle squeeze.

“It must’ve been heaven for you to get some peace and quiet for once. But then I had to bring these losers around,” he wrinkles his nose. You feel a load get off of your chest. Beomgyu lets go of your hand. “If you told me beforehand, I would’ve steered them away from here.”

“Well it’s fine as long as they don’t cause a scene.” You say the last part a little bit louder than conversational-volume. From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin cough on his fry. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work.”

“No shit. Go do what you’re paid for, slacker.”

He lands a smack on your back and you’re pushed off to do your job. Gosh. Hanbin welcomes you back to the station and the both of you are kept busy for the time being, up until late afternoon strikes, and Beomgyu says he can’t drive you home today since they’re still needed back at the faculty office.

“Your girlfriend can get home just fine! Prof Kim’s looking for us, hurry—”

And just like that, he gets lugged out of the cafe. Jeongin laments about returning to “printing hell,” whatever he means by that, and the walls of Horangnabi are once again returned to their original state— peace and quiet.

The bell jingles. You hear nothing but the metronomic melody from the speakers. “Your friends are so draining,” you tell Hanbin.

He just laughs. “They’re quite energetic.”

You should’ve appreciated the serenity and calmness of your first couple of days working here because for the next few weeks, the coding club has decided that the campus cafe is going to be their regular hangout spot from now on. Or until their summer volunteer work finally ends.

“You know, you’re so pretty.”

It’s the end of June now. You’re wiping off some spilled milk from the counter when Julie suddenly decides to dote on you. She’s on the other side of the counter, face between her palms, and your wiping stops, face flushed.

“I—I’m sorry?”

“You’re like the prettiest flower in a garden and I’d fend off all the other bees and butterflies just to have you for myself,” she doubles down. You release a laugh, mildly forced because holy shit, this is a new kind of attention. “No wonder you have all these guys buzzing around you all the time.”

Julie thumb-points at the corner the coding club guys usually occupy. You hear Hyunjin losing his shit over something—

“I think he’s the one they keep buzzing around, seonbae.”

—something Choi Beomgyu very likely said considering the grin he has on his face, and how Yeonjun is also collapsing on his shoulders. You watch as his grin disappears into a cup, taking a sip from the lime soda he ordered. Then he notices you staring. He settles down the drink and gets up.

“Oh no, he’s coming over.”

“What?” he says after reaching the counter, taking the spot next to Julie. “Are you talking shit about me again?”

“Hey, not everything is about you, insect,” answers Julie. Those two have gotten pretty close too. “I was talking about how pretty our new barista is. She’s a breath of fresh air. A rose among the truckload of weeds sullying the pretty interiors of our dear cafe.”

Beomgyu snorts at the comparison. You give him the stink eye.

“I get what she means,” Hanbin slides into conversation. He hums and passes you the milkshake Jeongin ordered. It’s still missing the whipped cream on top. You fetch a container from the fridge and walk back to your station, only to be met by a sudden debate on what kind of flower you are now.

“No, no. She’s not a rose,” you hear Yeonjun interject. “Appearance wise, she’s like a daffodil. Personality wise, she’s a venus flytrap.” A few of them chortle and laugh. You roll your eyes and start shaking the container.

“You’re wrong, she’s a hydrangea!”

“Aren’t they poisonous?”

“Exactly.”

A few more give their pitches. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed by the amount of knowledge these gamer gremlin boys have. You finish Jeongin’s milkshake and give it back to Hanbin for delivery. Beomgyu is quiet throughout the whole debacle, until Hyunjin eggs him on to give his pitch. They need to hear the expert’s verdict, he says. Beomgyu just brushes them off until he notices you looking at him expectantly. He pauses. He’s actually thinking about it. You’re pleasantly surprised at his sudden thoughtfulness— that is, of course, until he actually opens his freaking mouth.

“You’re a milkweed.”

It’s like a ball gets punted into your head. It bounces off and lands on the ground. You hear a wheeze from the boys. You give Beomgyu the middle finger.

“A weed! Not even a flower!”

“Hey, they are flowers! Go look it up!”

Beomgyu can’t redeem himself anymore. You’re already looking at him with bitter disgust and Julie proceeds to call him a piece of shit.

“It really is a flower!”

He still defends, pleading his case to you even after the topic has shifted. Julie has left to clean up some tables. Beomgyu remains in his spot on the other side of the counter until you decide to believe him and his alleged substantial botanical knowledge.

“Sure, whatever,” you deride. Beomgyu is still pouty. “Anyway, your conference thingy is this weekend, right? We’re going home right after?”

“Yeah,” he says, still sounding a little bitter and you bite down a laugh. His eyes flutter down, noticing something on your chin, and offhandedly wipes off what you assume is some stray whipped cream from earlier with his thumb. “Do you wanna leave in the morning or afternoon?”

“Oooooh.”

Lee Heeseung suddenly rears his head near the counter to return their empty plates. He’s back from vacation and now he’s here to reclaim his rightful spot as your number one annoyance. “Get a room,” he says with a shit eating grin that you want to wipe the floor with.

“Why’d you even come back early?” you leer at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be island hopping until the end of July?”

He sticks his tongue out. Beomgyu just laughs. “I can’t miss Sungchan’s party. You’re going, right?”

Right. The alleged wildest, most epic summer rager Jung Sungchan mentioned before parting ways with you and Minjeong over vacation. He texted you about it again last night. You couldn’t leave him on read because he called you immediately after.

“Unfortunately,” you lament. “Sungchan’s gonna throw a tantrum if I don’t show up.”

“You know Sungchan?” Beomgyu suddenly asks.

You give him a pointed look. “Duh, obviously. We’re in the same major.”

It’s like a lightbulb materializes on the top of his head. “Ah,” he says. “I forgot you had other friends.”

You quickly retaliate by attacking him with the nearest thing you can get your hands on: a dish towel. He lets out a very fake, very dramatic yelp of pain and tells on you to Julie noona for abusing your customers and that you should be fired.

“You’re no customer, you termite.”

“Ack! Noona! She’s hitting me again!”

“Is this how the youngins flirt nowadays?”

Both of you freeze in frame— him trying to yank your weapon from your hands and you with an arm up ready to throw a punch— and turn your heads towards Heeseung, who has a very smug smile playing on his face. You shoot Beomgyu a glare before roughly tugging the dish towel from his grasp. “Shut your mouth, Hee. How’s it going with your compsci girlie, anyway. You’ve stopped bragging since last month.”

Heeseung’s smile stiffens. He breathes out a ‘haha,’ before starting to turn away. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Serves him right. After a while you routinely bid them good riddance since they have to leave for volunteer work again. The weekend comes rolling, they finish the conference, and, with summer vacation coming to a close, you also bid your part-time job here at Horangnabi farewell as well after two-months of service.

“It’s not like she’s never coming back here,” Beomgyu huffs. You two decided to stop by before leaving off to your hometown, Monday after their conference. Julie refuses to stop squeezing you. Beomgyu tugs on your shirt sleeve, but you don’t budge. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Coming from the guy who’s spending the entire week with her,” Julie spits back. “You better bring her back here in one piece, you bug.”

Choi Beomgyu succeeds in retrieving you this time. The container carrying two cups of coffee swings in your hand as an arm hooks around your neck, tipping you back, and the top of your skull hits Beomgyu’s chin.

“Hanbin, we’re heading out.”

“Drive safe!”

You’re only spending a little over a week in Daegu. You two still need to come back to Seoul in time for Jung Sungchan’s, cough, epic summer rager. He hasn’t missed a day in reminding you about it. You’re out for a joint-family dinner with Choi Beomgyu and his family and your phone buzzes only to see Sungchan’s text saying [three days. i better see you there 🫵🫵🫵].

“Your classes don’t even start until September.”

It’s the third week of August. Your mom decides to walk you to Beomgy’s car. “I still need to enroll and register for my classes,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I arrive.” You pause. “And if you want to know what I’m up to, just ask me directly for god’s sake. Quit asking that guy.”

That guy wrinkles his nose at you. “Auntie, don’t listen to her. She’s just being jealous.”

“Wait until I tell your mom about how you nearly set fire to your kitchen.”

“Say a single word and I’m never letting you in my car anymore.”

Jung Sungchan’s party is at their vacation home in Eunpyeong District because his parents aren’t in the country. There’s a pool (gross). He promised you and Minjeong exclusive room access to escape to in case of emergencies (nice). It’s late afternoon. Beomgyu is already there because, well, he’s Choi Beomgyu and everyone’s obsessed with him. You’re still at Minjeong’s apartment, getting ready and borrowing some of her accessories.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you guys here?” he asks over the phone. You can barely hear him with the noise in the background. “Taxi fare’s expensive.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Minjeong makes a face from the foot of the bed while she irons her hair. “I’ve saved up a lot of pocket money thanks to you being my personal chauffeur anyway. And Minjeong doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re a douchebag.”

“I don’t even know her!”

“Bye.” You hang up. Minjeong still has a look on her face. “What?”

“I think he’s stringing you along,” she says bitingly.

You let out a huff. “How can he string me along when I don’t even like him?” Minjeong simply says that Choi Beomgyu gives her bad vibes, whatever the fuck she means because the only vibe Beomgyu exudes is the vibe of extreme annoyance. You hop off Minjeong’s bed and change into the outfit you brought, opting to put on this very big, droopy sunhat you once bought at a flea market as extra protection. It’s stupid hot out. You steal some of Minjeong’s sunscreen as well before finally heading out.

“Did Sungchan invite everyone at uni or something?”

A foot into his gate, it’s already so crowded. Like really fucking crowded. There’s music blasting somewhere. You can’t find Sungchan anywhere in the yard so you and Minjeong squeeze your way into the house, and there you find him with Heeseung. Minjeong yells for his attention, and he spins around with a big smile. “Hey, you made it!” Sungchan hurls himself at you with a bone crushing hug. “It feels like it’s been ten years since I last saw you.”

“Quit being so dramat— ack! Tap out, tap out! I give!”

He finally releases you, and you grunt. “Here you go.” He tosses the keys to the room he promised.

“Have fun partying.” Minjeong snatches it into her hands immediately. You scan the area for a bit. You see Hyunjin and Jeongin in the corner of the living room.

“Boo, you’re so lame,” jeers Sungchan, to which Minjeong just ignores and tugs your arm.

“How about you?” she asks.

You shift your gaze back to her. “I’ll go look for Choi Beomgyu’s round head first then hermit up there with you.” Minjeong makes a gagging noise before going off for the staircase. You’re ready to take out your phone to shoot Beomgyu a text, but you feel a sudden weight on the top of your head, so you look up, brows knitted.

“Your boyfie’s out in the back, sunshine,” Sungchan says while attempting to snatch your hat.

“Not my fucking boyfriend.” You swat his hand away and readjust the hat on your head. “But thanks. Later.”

The thing about your longtime friend is that no matter how crowded the place, no matter how flooded an area is with people and people and people— he’s generally very easy to find. Just look for a crowd, look for bodies circling around each other and whoever is at the epicenter, at the eye of the storm, is more often than not Choi Beomgyu.

Your trick is proven to be effective this time around as well. When you leave the living room through the glass doors to the backyard, you spot him instantaneously sitting on the ledge of the other side of the pool, feet dipping into the water as he laughs along with the large group surrounding him. It’s bright out— the sun’s rays bouncing off from the water’s surface to glitter the underside of his face. Even the sun has his attention. It’s so comically ridiculous that you almost roll your eyes into a scoff. That is until you see him see you, and within a moment’s notice, he’s up on his feet and is departing from the crowd to walk up to you.

“You’re here.”

The first thing he does is swipe the sunhat from your head, adding it to his obnoxiously colored outfit: a bright pink buttoned top with neon orange flowers, the color matching the necklace he’s uncharacteristically wearing. He’s also got a pair of square framed sunglasses perched on his nose. “Is this your highlighter cosplay?” you ask, snickering.

He shoots you a glare. “Fuck off. What took you so long, anyway? Thought you got lost or something.”

“I wish I did,” you grunt. There’s a holler and a splash from somewhere. You feel a few droplets hitting the skin of your feet. Beomgyu tugs you by the arm a little farther away from the pool. “This is way too noisy for my liking. And I thought I’ve been desensitized by you and your friends.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Beomgyu!”

A third voice suddenly barges in from behind you. Beomgyu’s eyes leave your face for a second when you feel someone brush past your shoulders. “Hey!” Beomgyu greets back, giving who you assume is one of his friends a high five before the guy runs off again, then his gaze flits back to you. “Anyway—”

“Hey, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!”

A more familiar face shows up and greets Beomgyu with a slap on the back, once more fishing away his attention. You’ve seen him at Horangnabi before, you think. “Hyung, I’ll get to you in a sec!” he says. When Beomgyu looks at you again, his smile quickly drops into a pursed huff. “Ugh.”

You laugh. “You were saying?”

Beomgyu smacks his tongue in distaste, tugging you even further into a corner in the backyard, right next to a bush-lined fence under the shade. “I was trying to say— it’s good to get out of your comfort zone once in a while, you know. Your mother would cry tears of joy to hear that her hermit of a daughter is at a party.”

“Why do you always bring up my mother when you want to make a point?”

“Extra leverage,” he grins. “There’s drinks in the cooler. Want me to get you one?”

“Nah,” you say. “I’m gonna hole up in Sungchan’s room in about—” you check the time on your phone. “Ten minutes. Minjeong’s already in our sanctuary.”

You receive a pinch on the nose from Beomgyu for that. You try to elbow him off, and just as he’s about to say something again, you two hear his name being yelled out from somewhere in the area. “Choi Beomgyu! Pool volleyball, stat!” Beomgyu pauses, arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders slump in defeat. A single breath of wind, he’s gonna fall over.

“God fucking damn it.”

It’s very funny seeing him like this. “Off you go,” you push his limp body out of the shade, the sun hitting you both once more. Beomgyu makes a grunt of protest. “Go, butterfly, go. Your people are waiting for you.”

Beomgyu gives you a look of awful judgment, but starts unbuttoning his shirt anyway in preparation to take a dive. “You’re not gonna swim?” he asks.

“In that water?” you grimace. “Want me to catch a disease or some shit? You’re on your own, pal.”

“Drama queen,” he huffs, fully removing his shirt now and you’re like whoa there— eyes away, eyes away. A screeching voice calls from his attention. He looks behind to yell back, “Shut the fuck up, I’ll there in a minute!”

“Hand me your phone,” you tell him, holding out your hand. Beomgyu turns around, looking at you with his atrociously bright shirt hanging on his forearm. You clear your throat. “And clothes. Ask Sungchan for directions to his room to find me later.”

“You sure?” he asks, digging into his short pockets.

“Yeah. Go have your fun, loser.”

Beomgyu hums and takes your offer, handing you his phone, tossing his shirt to your face, putting your sun hat back on top of your head and making sure to ruin your hair in the process. He’s so fucking annoying. “I’ll be back after I kick their asses.”

The shirt drops from your face and falls, only to hang on your arm. “Hey. I don’t really care,” you say. Beomgyu doesn’t find that response satisfactory. He makes a face before running off, slow at first before breaking into a sprint once he’s near enough the pool, before jumping straight into the water with a loud splash!

His head emerges from the water, largely grinning with his hair sticking to his skull. It doesn’t take long for him to be swallowed by a group of people. You take this as your cue to leave.

“I know you hate it when people assume you’re dating. But seeing all that, I really can’t blame them.”

“Holy shit— Minjeong,” you jump, meeting face-to-face with your friend the moment you spin your heels. She’s got her arms crossed, looking at you like she’s massively unimpressed. “When did you get here?”

“I thought you died or something,” she shrugs. There’s a splash from the pool, you two getting hit as collateral damages and Minjeong makes a gagging noise. “I can’t believe I left home early for this mess.”

You make a noise of agreement. It’s around four right now, the number of people isn’t getting any smaller, and the music is yet to get louder. Choi Beomgyu’s shirt and phone are still on your person. Said phone buzzing incessantly in your hold. “I’ve been out here for a good ten minutes,” you say. “I think that’s enough.”

“Good call. Let’s go upstairs.”

On the way to the room, you bump into Heeseung, who ropes you in to taking two jello shots before setting you free. You also greet a few people that you know for uni here and there, but you can barely hear them over, well, everything. It’s so chaotic, you’re beginning to wonder how the hell Jung Sungchan is going to clean up the aftermath of this. Or maybe that’s why he was so desperate to have you and Minjeong over. So that you’d help him clean up.

Minjeong seems to agree with your theory. You two key in the door to the room he gave you while cussing him out. “That bastard. Of course, he’d have ulterior motives.” The door opens. Minjeong lets herself in and immediately throws herself face-first onto the bed. “I’m gonna nap.”

“You dressed up all cutely just to sleep at a party,” you say, scanning around the room for a place to put away Beomgyu’s things.

“Hey, my ten minutes of screentime needs to be worth it,” she replies, voice muffled by the mattress. “Night, night.”

With how pretty the interiors look, you’re pretty sure this isn’t a room Sungchan frequents. A guest bed, maybe. There’s a large window on the opposite wall revealing a vivid backyard view, sheer white curtains filtering the sun. It’s very bohemian. Tasseled rugs, rattan decor hung all around. You notice the round, wicker seat next to the bed with a patterned cushion. You toss Beomgyu’s belongings there and walk up to the window.

Peeling back the curtain, you look down to see a flood of people scattered all about the yard, muffled music and noises leaking into the cracks of the room. Choi Beomgyu is still splashing around the pool. You watch as he throws a beach ball overhead, eyes following it fly across the water, until it ultimately bounces off the pool ledge and hits someone from behind. He looks pretty happy with the stunt. You let out a huff, a tug on the corners of your mouth, and let yourself sink into the soft rug in between the bed and the windowsill, laying down.

You hear Minjeong squirming from above. Damn, she’s actually sleeping. You’d get up there and join her too, but the floor is already comfortable, and you’re already yawning, so you feel yourself starting to doze off, lulled by the distant sounds of people from the outside.

When you open your eyes again, it’s orange.

You open your phone. Almost six in the evening. The sunset leaks into the room through the sheer curtain, painting shadows on the floor as you blink and regain your consciousness.

Then you hear three sharp knocks from the other side of the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Coming.” It takes a while for you to reconnect the wires in your brain. You let out a yawn as you make your groggy steps towards the door, seeing Minjeong wedged into the upper corner of the bed in a way that’s definitely going to wrinkle her outfit. There’s a few more knocks on the door. You twist the knob open and lo and behold—

It’s Choi Beomgyu.

“Oh, thank god, I found the right room this time.”

Half-clothed. With a very evident, painful red mark on his left cheekbone.

“Holy shit. What the hell happened to you?”

You’re wide awake now. Beomgyu answers with a sheepish grin. “Well. You see. A little accident occurred.”

He flinches back and looks away guiltily with tightly pressed lips the moment you nudge your face closer. It’s swollen. You take a step back with a sigh. “Explain,” you say, grabbing him into the room. You tip the door close with your foot and bring him to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake Minjeong up in the process.

“Some of the guys got a little too tipsy,” he starts as you sit him down onto the mattress. You kneel onto the bed stool, sinking into the loose blanket draped on the cushion just next to his outstretched legs while he continues yapping. “There was a surfboard involved. Don’t ask. But with alcohol-induced lack of coordination, and then there’s me who was by the pool ledge at the wrong place at the wrong time— I think you can get an idea of what happened.

He leans back, sinking his hands into the cushion. You dip forward. “That’s nothing to brag about.” Yeah, he’s gonna need some ice.

“I think I bumped my head a little too.”

You feel a breath escape. He’s smiling. How many beer cans has he downed already? “Beomgyu. Seriously. What the fuck?” His face is irritating you, so you grab it and yank it down to get a good look of his big, round head. “Where?”

“Ack! Gently! Do it gently!” he complains, and you feel his right hand coil around your left wrist. “It’s father in the back, I think—”

“Quit grabbing—”

“Ow!”

You do manage to find the bump, but you accidentally press on it a little too hard, causing Choi Beomgyu to yank your wrist in surprise, jerking you forward out of balance. Now, that’s fine and all, but at the same moment, you hear two unfamiliar voices speaking in hushes approaching the door. Your eyes widen.

“Are you sure this room is empty?”

“Yeah, it’s empty, just—”

Swing!

You try to get up. But your knees slip on the blanket on the stool and you stumble forward upon hearing the door slam open.

It’s a domino effect. Your palms are pressing against the soft mattress. Choi Beomgyu’s bruised face is looking straight at you in alarm. From underneath. You’re on top of him. On the bed. You snap your head towards the door and it’s wide, wide open with two people, half inside, and a few more heads poking in and zeroing in on you as the realization that you forgot to fucking lock it dawns upon you and soaks into your bones.

This. This isn’t a favorable position.

God damn it all.

“Sorry!”

And the door is slammed shut once more. That doesn’t matter. The damage has been done. You feel your face starting to burn and your strength attempting to escape from your body.

“Uh.”

The voice from below you reels your attention back in. You blink. Shit. You’re practically pinning Choi Beomgyu against the bed right now and his face is just a few inches away from yours. The heat is rising to your head. You want to move, but your arms won’t budge— seemingly temporarily locked into place by the shock of the sight underneath you.

His eyes are wide open, reflecting the orange tinted light from the ceiling, flushing his skin with a light shade of auburn, the tint deeper on his cheeks and nose. You see his throat bob, muscles contracting.

The thing is, you’ve known him for a good twenty years or so, give or take. But you’ve never seen his face this close before, and you have to admit—

“C—can you move?”

Choi Beomgyu is kind of pretty.

Even with an ugly bruise forming underneath his eye.

“Hey. I don’t think this is gonna help kill any of the rumors.”

You look up to see Minjeong further up on the bed, very, very awake. You forgot she’s here. You toss yourself to the side with a squeak, practically hurling yourself off from the bed. “It—it was an accident!” you start. Minjeong simply shakes her head with sigh.

“I know. I saw everything. I was already awake the moment you sat this fucker’s ass on the bed.”

Hot. Your face is very hot. But Minjeong is also very right because god— you’re not sure how far things are gonna escalate. How many people saw that? Five? Maybe Six? Gosh, you don’t fucking know. The only thing you’re sure about is the fact that Lee Heeseung is gonna have a field day once he hears about this. You are royally screwed.

#beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x you #txt imagines #txt x you #choi beomgyu scenarios #choi beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #txt scenarios #txt fanfic

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lovecla · 2 months ago

Text

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter five:

➴ warnings: fighting, misunderstanding, mentions of cheating

➴ word count: 3.2k

➴ author’s note: shit hit the fan yall… who the hell is going to fix this mess..

YOU woke up at ten to two after sleeping for seven hours straight. One thing about stressed you, is that you'd sleep for twenty-four hours if given the opportunity.

But you were thirsty and you needed to get your hands on a glass of water before you died from dehydration.

So, you got up, and made your way to the kitchen, only stopping when you saw your phone blowing up on the counter.

Frowning, you picked it up, confused with the hundreds of notifications on your lock screen.

You completely forgot about your need for water. With your heart on your mouth, you sat on one of your stools, unlocking your phone and texting Grace.

Usually, you didn't care about gossip. You'd always just joke about it on Twitter with your fans and move on.

People liked to invent things and you couldn't exactly stop them. So you just let it happen.

But apparently, Jack was involved in this too. Which left you confused because people didn't know about you two. Or at least, that's what your media team would say, whenever you had a meeting with them— a weekly occurrence, ever since the album was announced.

Typing your name on Google, you didn't have to dig too deep: an article published five hours ago was the first to show up. "Former Flames: NHL Star Jack Hughes Moves On with New Flame After Breakup with Pop Singer, Sophia Montenegro".

What the fuck?

Opening it, you could swear your heart would stop any moment. Hands shaking, you read every line, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

It seems love off the ice is just as fast-paced as the action on it for NHL star Jack Hughes. The hockey player, known for his fierce plays and competitive edge, is making headlines for his personal life as well. After a low-profile breakup with pop sensation Sophia Montenegro, Jack Hughes has already moved on-and he's not keeping it a secret.

According to our anonymous sources, the athlete and singer had started dating back in April, after they met at the New Jersey Devils [Jack Hughes' team] charity gala, and kept everything in the dark for six months straight: nothing more than a few Instagram comments and likes to prove anything.

However, despite the chemistry, the relationship ended after Jack was seen with one of his exes last night, Ava Mitchell. Jack Hughes is known for his short-term relationships so it wouldn't be anything new.

We hope Mrs. Montenegro is okay, after her second break-up in less than two years. Maybe our sweet girl, Sophia, has bad luck with relationships.

You didn't bother reading the rest, locking your phone and gently placing it on the counter again.

The rational part of your brain was telling you that none of that was true, and that this was just a gossip magazine doing what’s supposed to be doing, but you recognised the girl in the photo, it was the same girl on Jack’s lap yesterday. And that was obviously Jack, holding her hand like some kind of loving boyfriend.

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. You knew that something like this would happen. All of the good moments you had with Jack apparently were just that: good moments. And now, bad memories.

You knew what you had to do. Keep going, just like you did when Harris broke up with you over text after cheating on you the night before. Keep going, just like you did when your name got dragged into the mud because of that.

But doing that with Jack, for some crazy reason, was harder than you thought it’d be. Maybe because you had a lot of expectations and watching them getting crushed right in front of you sucked.

Your phone buzzed in front of you, Grace’s picture shining. You sighed, before picking it up. “Hi,” you whispered, remembering that you were still thirsty and this was the first word you said in seven hours.

“Hey, baby, how are you?” She sounded worried, and you understood her. This was the first somewhat scandal you’ve had in months. So yeah.

“I just read it…” you took a deep breath. “Gosh, what the hell. What happened after I left?”

You heard Grace move something around before she started speaking again. “Honey, I wish I could tell you something entirely different but… I did see Jack leaving with that girl. I am so sorry. Like, genuinely.”

Your entire body felt like it weighed three times more. Your heart shrank to the size of a pea and you could feel your hand tremble a little bit.

You had seen the picture, you knew that Jack had left the party with the girl but still. It hurt.

“Did you talk to him?” Grace asked, voice worried.

“No, I— Grace, I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, feeling something tickle your cheek. You wiped it with your hands, just to realize that it was tears. You were crying. “I like him so much. I had finally accepted it, I told you— I thought he felt the same.”

“I did too. I don’t know what happened. Maybe… God I hate to say this but maybe you should talk to him?”

You let out a wet laugh. “No way in hell I’m talking to him. I made that mistake with Harris. Every time he’d do something shitty, I’d go after him and talk to him, accept his excuses, his behavior. I’m not that Sophia anymore.”

“I know, I know… I just…” she sounded uncertain. “God. Why are men like this?”

You wiped your tears, smiling for the first time in hours.

“I don’t know.”

“Also, that song you sent me… is it about him?”

You were confused just for a second, before remembering the song you wrote last night— morning?

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling just the tiniest bit of embarrassment. “Couldn’t get it out of my head. What’d you think?”

“It’s perfect. Just like everything you write,” you could hear her smiling. You smiled too. “I love you so much, Soph.”

“I love you too, Grace. Don’t worry, I'll be fine,” you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself, and not her. “Let’s just focus on the album and the launching party, right? Fuck Jack Hughes.”

“Yes, you’re right. Fuck him and not in a good way!”

You laughed, feeling the pain inside your chest ease up a little bit.

It was going to be fine.

— ♡

JACK called you three times in the past three days.

You felt shitty not picking up any of his calls because you knew he was away for the entire week, but honestly, you weren’t ready to hear any of his excuses.

So drowning yourself in work was the answer for all of your problems. Day and night, you went to photoshoots and interviews, none of the questions being about you and Jack, thankfully. You knew it was all your team’s doing but still, it felt nice to talk about yourself and your work, and not about men who did nothing but make you hate yourself.

Grace thought you had to at least hear Jack out. But you knew that if you did that, the chances of you forgiving him were high. Higher than they should be. Because you’re still very much in love with him and want to be with him at all times.

“Good work today, guys,” Russel, your choreographer, shouted, everyone clapping together. You were all rehearsing for your launching party, a mini-concert with only a couple hundred people, something to introduce your album.

“Thank you, guys, love you.” You breathed, remembering how you should go back to the gym because singing and dancing at the same time required a lot of effort.

You headed back to your house, staring at the sunset through your car’s window, sighing loudly at the traffic in front of you. It was seven p.m. and you were tired and famished, thinking about all of the take-out options you could order when you got home.

“What the…” you muttered, when you tried entering your garage, but was unable to since there was a car there already. A car that you unfortunately knew very well. “The hell is he doing here?”

Jack was leaning against his car, a crazy thing to do during winter but whatever, wearing a beanie and a Devils hoodie, while looking at something in his phone.

He was supposed to be away. For a week.

Opening your door, you welcomed the cool breeze on your skin. The workout clothes felt too tight on your body and the bag on your hand felt too heavy but you held it tight. He still hadn’t noticed you so maybe you could walk past him without him noticing you?

“Hey, baby,” and yes, of course that didn’t work. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You looked at him like he was out of his mind, but he just kissed your forehead and grabbed something from inside the car. A Five Guys takeout bag. Fuck him for knowing your favorite burger place.

“I got us food but I think the guy there messed with my order on purpose because he recognised me and he was wearing a Rangers pin which I thought was forbidden during work hours? But I never had a nine to five job so I can’t really tell.”

You continued to move, asking yourself why the hell Jack was so talkative today. Usually, he’d just answer your questions and leave it at that. But he must’ve spent too much time with Luke because damn, this man was a yapper now.

Opening the door, you let him in, not really sure why. Maybe Grace was right and you did need closure, but you expected to have this conversation with him through texts, and not face to face like right now.

He looked so dreamy. He’d shaved, so he looked eighteen years old all over again. His hair, hidden by the beanie, looked longer now and you desperately wanted to run your hands through it. He was standing there, cheeks and lips red, blue eyes looking directly at yours.

Why did he have to be so handsome? It’d all be much easier if he was ugly.

“You’re so quiet today, did something happen?” He asked, yanking you out of the train of thoughts about how handsome he was.

And suddenly, you were back in Harris’ living room, one year ago, watching as the man cried on your lap, apologizing over and over again, saying that he’d never lie to you and that he’d never let you down.

Your stomach was starting to hurt and you felt yourself breathing faster.

“I ran this conversation in my head a thousand times, but I never once imagined you’d just not talk about it and move on, y’know?” You mumbled, heart racing in your chest. “Was it worth it, Jack?”

His confused face made you hurt even more because, somehow, it looked genuine. “What are you talking about? Was what worth it?”

“So you’ll keep denying it?” You raise one eyebrow, feeling the sorrow being replaced by something uglier, something heavier. Something like anger.

“Denying what, Sophia?” He stepped closer, hands reaching to your body, which you dodged. If you’re going to do this, you’ll need every ounce of space in your house. “Sophia, what—”

“I know I have no right to be mad at you for this, because I know we were just fucking,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Hell, I was the one who said I didn’t want a relationship first. So I understand why you didn’t reach out to me, why you’re not apologizing, why you’re playing dumb, but—”

“Sophia,” he cut you off, his voice one octave deeper. You shivered, watching as he frowned at you. “I don’t know why you’re saying all of this shit. What the hell happened?”

You looked at him, analyzing his face and, once again, seeing nothing but pure confusion in his expression. You found it hard to believe that he didn’t know about the article, didn’t know about how people were saying that no one stayed with you for a long time, didn’t know about his ex announcing to everyone on her Instagram page that they were together again.

But unfortunately, you also knew that Jack wasn’t a liar. He’d never been, and probably would never be.

“So you don’t know about the article?”

“Article?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you talking about gossip pages on Instagram? Soph, you know the only thing I do in that fucking app is like your photos, watch the weird ass reels you send me, and send pictures of ugly animals to my brothers and say it looks like them,”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you google the article that you had every word memorized by now with how much you’ve read it. Showing it to him, you saw his face go through all stages of emotions: confusion, anger and understanding.

“You didn’t know about this?”

“I don’t read the articles people write about me. I don’t give a fuck about people’s opinions,” he growled, handing your phone back to you and taking his beanie off so he could run his hands through his hair. “I don’t know who the hell sent that information about us.”

“Can’t you see that the problem here isn’t people knowing that we were fucking?” You snapped, almost crushing your phone with how hard you were gripping it. “The problem here, Jack, is you leaving that fucking party with your fucking ex, after she spent half of her night on your lap.”

“The hell is wrong with that, Sophia?” He snapped too, looking angry and annoyed at the same time. “You left with fucking Quinn and didn’t even say goodbye to me. Me leaving with Ava isn’t any fucking different.”

“‘Isn’t any fucking different?’ Fuck you, Jack. Fuck,” you touched his chest with your index finger. “You.”

“Sophia, what is going on? You’re mad at me because I left with Ava? She was fucking out of her mind, drunk as hell, and I just took her home!” He raised his arms, like that was enough of an explanation. “It’s not my fault someone took a picture of us leaving and wrote a fucking article about that.”

“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” you whispered, staring into his eyes, losing yourself all over again, just like you did six months ago. “I’m mad at myself for falling in love with you.”

You were both taken aback by your statement. You had zero intentions of telling Jack how you felt about him because that would just be too much humiliation to handle but now the shit hit the fan and he knew.

“It’s…” he stared, biting his lips and averting your gaze. “It’s not like I cheated on you, Sophia. We aren’t dating.”

Oh.

Right.

You knew something like this would happen and still. Your heart hurts all the same. It isn’t that serious, your brain was yelling at you, get a fucking grip.

“I know,” you whispered, trying to count your breathings. “I know that, Jack. You don’t need to tell me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He stepped closer. “About how you feel?”

“Was it going to change anything?” Your voice quivered with sadness and you hated yourself for it. The plan was to tell him to fuck off and leave him but now you were almost crying and losing your shit in front of him.

“Yes, Sophia, fuck,” he put his hands on your arms, squeezing you slightly. “Of course it was!”

“Jack, no,” you freed yourself from his touch, walking around your living room, with your hands on your head. “I didn’t tell you that just to watch you pity me, I was trying to make a point. Don’t start lying now just for the sake of it.”

“Lying? I’m not fucking lying, Sophia,” he sounded angry now. “If you had told me this before, I would’ve—”

“‘Would’ve’ what?” You raised your voice too, tears now streaming down your face freely. “Would’ve said you’re in love with me too? Would’ve abandoned your whore days just to be with me? Fuck off, Hughes, we both know that isn’t true.”

“Just because you like to paint me as the man whore of the Devils it doesn’t mean that that is true,” he snapped, again. “I’ve been with you for six months now, and I never, not even once, touched another woman, or even thought about doing it. Because I just wanted you, Sophia, can’t you fucking see it?”

You sat on the couch, covering your face with your hands, trying to hide the fact that those words affected you more than you would ever admit.

“I get it that your fuckhead ex-boyfriend fucked you up and I am sorry for it, baby, I really am, but I’m not like him—”

“Jack, no,” you stopped him and removed your hands from your face, not caring if you looked ugly or destroyed. “Just leave. It’s better this way.”

“Leave? Are you insane?” He raised his voice. “No, I’m not leaving. I’m telling you that I am in lo—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Hughes,” you got up, walking until you were toe to toe with him, looking up until your eyes met his. “I don’t want to hear it. Leave, please.”

“What the hell, man, you’re— you’re not even hearing me out!” He sounded desperate.

“I don’t want— I don’t need any more of your lies or pity. Sorry if you lost a good fuck, but I’m sure you’ll find someone else to get your dick wet.” It hurt you saying this but you needed to hurt him in order to make him leave, even if only God knew how much you wanted him to stay.

But the people you loved, the men you loved, never stayed.

Eventually, if you both started dating, he’d get tired of the routine and he’d find someone else. He’d start lying and cheating and apologizing just to do it all again, stepping on your heart like he did to the ice.

So you needed him to leave.

“So you think that you were just that to me?” He scoffed. “A good fuck? I took you to my parents’ house. I introduced you to them. I talked to my friends about you and I made time for something else besides Hockey. I wanted you in my life and now you’re telling me that it was all just sex to me?”

His eyes have never looked bluer. Your entire body felt cold, and you knew it wasn’t because of the weather. It was because you could feel Jack distancing himself from you, and it hurt.

“Leave, Hughes.”

He stared at you for a full minute, the room quiet. Then, he nodded once and twice, before stepping back and making his way to your door.

Opening it, he turned back and looked at you again. “I hope you know that you can’t keep your heart locked away forever, Soph.”

Wanting nothing but to be in his arms, you stared at him until he softly closed the door. You don’t know how much time you spent looking at the wooden entrance, feeling like you just watched your forever walk away.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x singer!fmc #jack hughes x singer!reader #IYLMLMK

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writeonwhiskey · 1 month ago

Text

the skz house: ch 27

a/n: eeeek. this chapter is a bit short, so the next one will be coming soon after! thank you @bahablastplz for editing!

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Of Insomnia and Revelations

You don’t even bother to grab your phone before exiting the room, wanting to put as much space between the two of you before you spew words that you might later regret.

Fuck. You.

And so goes the next two weeks. You’re spared most of Chan’s antics during your period, save for a blowjob. He has you on his bed, on all fours, while he grips the back of your head and fucks your face. Your lack of humane interactions with him makes you feel distraught, but you can’t deny how good it feels to please him. To see him looking down at you with such intensity, lip caught between his teeth as he comes in your mouth. You wish it felt more rewarding, though.

Your only reprieve comes during your days with Hyunjin.

As much as you try to enjoy the peace he provides you, Chan continues to invade your thoughts. You’re no longer thinking of the ‘why’ to his behavior, though. Now, you can only consider how long you can put up with it. This isn’t the way you treat someone you allegedly care about; someone you were willing to throw your life away for. That’s the part that can’t wrap your head around.

You didn’t imagine the final few months in the house would be perfect after telling him no, but you thought they’d at least be cordial.

You’re lying in bed next to Hyunjin, eyes wide open as you contemplate how long you can survive being silently ignored and sexually tormented. Your last two days with Chan this week, he refused to let you have an orgasm. He’s exercising and pushing his control in a way that just doesn’t feel the same without your previous connection. Without knowing there’s any ounce of respect for you in his eyes.

You feel Hyunjin shake your shoulder.

“Go to sleep,” he says groggily.

“I’m trying,” you tell him.

“Come here,” he turns onto his side, and you do too so you’re facing each other.

He uses a hand to stroke your hair as you snuggle in closer to him. You resort to counting fucking sheep to lose yourself in the calm he’s pouring into you. And finally, you’re able to fall asleep.

On Monday morning in the girls’ bathroom getting ready for class, you find yourself stuck in front of the mirror, leaning closer to your reflection to inspect the growing bags under your eyes. You haven’t slept well in days, and it’s starting to show.

The door swings open and you drop your hands from your face as Allie walks in.

“You okay?” she asks, seeing you startled.

“Yeah…just tired,” you shrug.

She stops in the middle of the bathroom and takes in your reflection through the mirror.

“You sure? You seem a little different lately—you and Chan do.”

“It’s nothing,” you try to brush it off.

She walks towards you until she’s standing next to you, eyes still on yours through the mirror.

“Don’t give me that,” she shakes her head. “You know that boy refused to touch me during rotational? He hardly even looked at me, really.”

It makes you frustratingly happy to hear that, another testament of his devotion to you, but at the same time incredibly sad because it no longer feels that way. If rotations had happened now, after all this, would he still have refrained from touching her? You doubt it.

“We’re not supposed to talk about that, Allie.”

“I’m only telling you, and I know you won’t say anything to anyone else. You deserve to know how much he cares about you.”

“It doesn’t mean anything, though. It can’t.”

“It can while you’re here. We’re all operating with the knowledge of our expiration dates…just, try not to focus on the end and enjoy the time you have together now.”

She offers you a kind smile before playfully smacking you on the butt as she walks towards the shower.

She makes it sound so simple. Initially, that’s what you had wanted, too. To be happy with the time you have left together rather than the resentment now seeping through his pores.

Later, you help the girls cook dinner and sit at the table with everyone for the meal. You keep glancing at Chan occasionally, thinking of what Allie said. Does he just need a little nudge? Can you break through to him again and regain some semblance of normalcy for your last ten weeks in the house?

After dinner, you take a long shower, then go up to his room and climb into your bed with the lights off. You’re scrolling through your phone when he comes in, not making any attempts to be quiet.

“You up?” he asks loudly.

You lock your phone and let it fall to the bed without answering him. You hold your breath as you hear his footsteps growing closer. You feel his weight on the bed when he sits down and tugs on the blanket. Your body instantly feels warm with how close he is, still intent on betraying you whenever he is near. Your grip on the blanket loosens, allowing him to pull it down.

You’re sad. Of course you are. But you still want him to know that you’re here for him, that you yearn to be close to him. You want to get through to him and come to a mutual understanding, you want to see if it’s possible. You still believe there’s a chance to make that happen. You just need to know what he’s thinking.

He nudges your shoulder, so you turn over and lay flat on your back.

“Are you just never going to speak to me again?” you ask as he slips a hand underneath your shirt.

“What do you want me to say?” he counters.

Your stomach tenses up as his hand trails along the middle of it, up to your breasts. He squeezes one, brushing his thumb lightly over your nipple until it hardens, then does the same to the other. You let out a sigh, feeling your body immediately respond to his touch. The ache between your legs pulses rhythmically as you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his hand.

“Anything,” you tell him.

“I wanna fuck you, y/n,” he says.

He knows that’s not what you meant.

He reaches for your hand and guides it to his cock—you can feel that he’s hard beneath his sweatpants. As much as it shouldn’t, it pleases you to know the effect you still have on him. It becomes apparent, though, that he has no intention of carrying on a normal conversation with you. Just fucking you.

You slip your hand beneath the waistband of his sweats and stroke his cock while he redirects his attention to your shorts. He tugs at the hem, and you lift your waist and allow him to pull them down. He rubs your pussy with his fingers, making sure to tease your clit.

You clench your jaw to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to know how good it feels so soon. How badly you want him to make you come. To let you come. You try to pull him down to you, but he pulls away.

He stands from the bed and removes his pants and boxers, then helps you out of your shirt. He turns your body so that you’re laying sideways on the bed, your ass nearly hanging off. He places one knee next to your thigh and lowers himself slightly as he rubs his cock up and down your slit.

You’re not quick enough to stop the moan that escapes your lips this time. You can’t even stop yourself as you scramble for more contact, first putting your hands on his waist and trying to pull him to you. Then on his shoulders, still trying to force him down to you, but he keeps resisting.

“I want to kiss you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head, “We shouldn’t do that anymore.”

Your brain tries to focus on the words he’s just said but keeps being thwarted by the way he’s making you feel physically. He teases your clit with his cock, rubbing it in circles around it, then eases his cock down some more to your opening. He slowly inserts the tip inside before pulling it out moving it back up to your clit.

“Why,” you pause to moan, “not?”

He’s quiet—seemingly more focused on teasing you than responding. With his cock at your entrance, he props himself up on the bed with one hand.

You try again to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, but he removes them one by one, setting them down at your side. While he’s distracted with restraining you, you wrap your legs around his waist and use them to bring his hips forward, pushing his cock inside of you.

“Fuuuck,” he moans.

As upset and annoyed and angry as you are with each other, you still want him; he still wants you. This sexual toxicity is the only thing holding you both together.

He withdraws and you use your legs to pull him forward again.

You continue that, him pulling out and you shoving him back in several more times.

“Is this all I get from you now, then?” you ask, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. “This is all you want?”

He reaches down with both hands, taking a breast in each. He pinches your nipples hard, and you moan, once again using your legs to make him thrust back into you. He groans. He loves seeing how much you need him to fuck you.

“Yes,” he finally replies, solidifying your fears. “And you’ll give it to me, won’t you?”

He pinches your nipples again.

You press your lips together, refusing to answer.

He cups your breasts, squeezing them as he lowers himself closer to your face. Your lips are so close to touching, but he still doesn’t kiss you. He starts thrusting into you on his own now.

“Won’t you?”

You can’t stop the whimper-moans with each of his thrusts. It feels good, it always feels so fucking good with him. No matter how gentle, how rough, how much turmoil.

When you still refuse to answer he straightens his back, unhooks your legs from his waist and brings them together so they’re in front of him. He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding your legs to one side as he lets out all stops and fucks you mercilessly.

You know you don’t need to bother responding—he knows the answer. He’s getting his answer in real time. You couldn’t imagine telling him no when he so desperately needs you, regardless of how he’s treating you. And that should concern you.

Neither of you say another coherent word as you use each other’s bodies. He twists and turns you around as he sees fit. At one point, he reaches over to your nightstand drawer and pulls out the vibrator before flipping you over onto all fours again. He blindly hands it to you in the dark and you waste no time in powering it on and pressing it to your clit.

Is it fucked up that you think this small action shows a sign that he cares and could eventually come around? You can almost fool yourself into believing it.

The soft buzz of the vibrator and the sound of your thighs smacking together, his palm occasionally hitting your ass, accompanied by his grunts and your moans, and you both releasing expletives is all that fills the room.

He starts thrusting in at an angle, long and slow strokes and you feel your thighs begin to tremble.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. Chan, please,” you beg.

“Come,” he commands. “Come on my fucking cock.”

And you do.

And he comes, too.

And it feels so good.

Yet you feel so fucking broken.

And you know he does, too.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, you both continue to let your frustrations out with each other sexually. Chan remains steadfast in his new ‘no kissing’ rule, and by Wednesday you stop trying. You fuck him and suck him like there’s no tomorrow. With each passing day, it feels like there really might not be.

When you’re back with Hyunjin, it feels eerily somber. He can tell something is up, but he doesn’t pry. He never does. He allows you your space and cuddles you at night while you hold on to him for dear life at this point. You feel lost. You don’t know what to do, how to navigate this. If you should navigate this.

By Thursday night you feel closer to a solution, but the idea of going through with it scares you. So many questions, thoughts, feelings and emotions swirl around your heart and brain, and you can’t make sense of any of it.

It’s been three weeks of this treatment from him, and he hasn’t shown any signs of being your Chan again. Granted, you can’t put a timeline on how long it should take him to come to terms with what he undoubtedly sees as a rejection, but at the same time you can’t allow him to continue treating you this way. Not after all you’ve been through with him.

You wonder if he hadn’t confessed his true feelings and history of knowing you, would things be different? Hell, if you’d never invited him on that trip to Miami, perhaps you could have continued on a semi-civil basis throughout the end of the year. That ship has sailed, though. Too much has been revealed to ever take back. And as amazing as it was to feel such openness from him, it really has led to this shared downfall.

As soon as you lay in bed with Hyunjin, you will yourself to get lost in him. You kiss him, touch him, hold him, needing him to do the same. You don’t even have to ask, he just does it instinctively. He’s sweet and gentle with you, as always, wanting to please you and trying to ease your worries and pain in the best way he knows how.

However, your train of thought continually swerves back to Chan. Even with Hyunjin’s face buried between your legs, you can’t get him out of your head. You pull him up to you and bring his mouth to yours, tasting yourself on him. He positions himself at your entrance and you once again put all your focus on him as he tends to your body.

“Jagiya,” he whispers near your ear.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him against you. You don’t want him to see your face, contorted as you fight back tears. You very much still want to please him, and release what little tension you can through this physical act.

You kiss along his shoulder as you lift your hips to meet his thrust.

“You haven’t—I don’t think I can—” he stumbles over his words, fighting back his release.

“It’s okay,” you tell him.

He comes and collapses on the bed next to you, breathing heavily as you stare up at the ceiling. You feel completely out of control, and not even Hyunjin can cure it now. You know, for certain, that you cannot put up with this any longer.

As soon as the realization settles in, the needle pricks are back in your eyes and the tears come flooding out before you can stop them.

“Hyunjin,” your voice cracks with sadness, “I’m leaving.”

[ read chapter 28 here ]

a/n: one of you nailed this outcome in a comment from the last chapter. now we must wait to see how chan will react when he finds out! thank you for reading, my dears!

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