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ellecdc · 13 days ago

Text

The Bolter

Sirius Black x fem!reader who meet again [5.5k words]

prompt: poly!wolfstar or just Sirius x reader in which they were friends with benefits but it was obvious they loved each other even though they acted like they weren’t. Then, reader finds out shes pregnant and before telling them, they do something stupid. so reader runs away for a few months. When she comes back (only bc she had to for some reason) shes like 6-7 months pregnant

CW: secret pregnancy, angst, FWB to strangers to lovers, second chance fic, post war trauma, both Sirius and reader are meeesssssssssssyyyyy in this! I don't approve of what they've done but I understand it

“So…she’s coming back?” Sirius asked cautiously, focusing more on the condensation pooling on the coaster underneath his pint than the concerned gazes of his two best friends.

“Well, I don’t know if she’s coming back, but she’ll be here for Harry’s birthday.” James mollified, sharing a nervous look with Remus.

“Right.” Sirius murmured around a swallow; throat tight and dry though neither the pint nor the pitcher of water in front of him looked as though they’d be able to help him with the matter.

“Are you going to be alright?” Remus queried, and Sirius offered him the most arrogant scoff he could muster; he missed by a long shot.

“Of course I’m going to be alright.” He huffed. “Why? Can’t two friends see each other after five and a half months of silence?”

“Sirius-” James started, but Sirius carried on.

“She’s the only one who’s been silent, you know?” Though he knew that they did indeed both know. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried reaching out.”

“Pads.” Remus offered consolingly, looking frustratingly like he was going to reach a hand out to Sirius as if he were some over tired toddler on the brink of a meltdown.

“Stop, no I- I’m fine, honest.” He insisted as he took a steadying breath. “I- you… talked to her, then?”

James and Remus shared another look before James allowed the segue.

“Mostly by owl, but she has spoken on the phone with Lily a few times.”

Sirius nodded as he considered this; considered the number of owls Sirius had sent that had gone unanswered - perhaps even unopened if the silence meant anything at all.

“She’s…okay?”

Remus let out a sigh as he shot Sirius a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s…vague.”

“She doesn’t share a whole lot.” James agreed. “Says she’s fine, things are good. Mostly asks about…all of us, Harry.”

“She’s still staying with that great aunt,” Remus added, “helping her with the property.”

“She seeing anyone?” There was no point in pretending that wasn’t the most pressing matter in Sirius’ mind; of course it was. And as angry and bitter as the idea made Sirius, it would have been his own fault, his own doing. He had no one to blame but himself.

And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was the one who let you slip away - pushed you away - right into the arms of someone else.

“Not that she’s mentioned.” Remus responded honestly; he couldn’t say for sure that you weren’t, but if you were, you clearly hadn’t said anything about it.

“Right.” Sirius offered shortly.

“Pads, I…we would understand if it's too hard for you to see her. If you can’t come-”

“Don’t be daft.” Sirius scoffed deploringly. “I’m not going to miss my godson’s birthday. If anyone should be missing it, it should be her; I’ve been here for the past four and a half months, she’s the one who fucked off for good.”

“Sirius-”

“I don’t understand why you had to invite her!” Sirius shouted then, startling even himself when he realised how breathless he sounded all of a sudden.

James smiled at him sadly; Sirius wished he’d stop doing that. “We wanted all of Harry’s uncles and his aunt to be there, Sirius…it’s important, yeah? We…we almost didn’t get this chance.”

Sirius could feel a wicked migraine coming on; between talking about you, the close calls and the fact that the group of you were all alive following the war by nothing but chance, and the fact that the person Sirius was most angry with was himself, he downed the rest of his pint and flagged the server in favour of having to look at the pitiful gazes being shot at him by Remus and James.

Sirius couldn’t tell if he was eager for Harry’s second birthday or dreading it. But like it or not, Sirius was going to be seeing you again.

It had felt like a good idea at the time.

It felt beyond foolish now, but it had felt like a good idea at the time.

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“Sirius, we just won. We just won, why do you have to leave now?” You practically begged as you followed Sirius through his flat.

“Because if I don’t get out now, I’m going to be stuck here for eternity.” He all but spat at you as he shoved articles of clothing into his duffle rather haphazardly. You felt like grabbing the bag from him and folding them properly if the act wouldn’t leave you feeling like you were aiding and abetting his abandoning you.

“But what about James? And Remus? What about Harry? You fought this war for them, and they for you - we just got them back!”

“And they’ll be here when I’m ready to come home!” Sirius shouted; turning to look at you with wild, red rimmed eyes.

“What about me?” You asked quietly, hating how small you sounded.

“What about you?” He asked; face falling painfully neutral. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was occluding.

“I…I don’t know.” You started awkwardly, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought…maybe we’d have a chance now. To try?.”

“Y/N.” Sirius sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; entire being oozed exhaustion at having to have this conversation with you. “Have I not been entirely clear about what this was between us?”

“Right.” You agreed quickly, biting roughly on your lip and looking anywhere but at him as he let his hand fall away from his face.

“It’s…it’s not you, doll-” but even your humourless scoff didn’t derail him “I’m not the kind to settle down and be content I- I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

“I’m not asking you for any more than what we have, Sirius-”

“Yes you are.”

“-I just want you to stay.”

“That’s too much for me.” He stated; his voice never raised though he may as well have screamed it at you. “I cannot sit here and play house, I cannot be that guy for you.”

“Cannot or will not?” You asked quietly, regretting the question the second it came out of your mouth and he looked at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry I asked.” You let out with a chuckle as you harshly wiped tears from under your eyes.

“It’s…it’s not forever, yeah? I just…I can’t see myself being happy here…not right now, at least; not for a while.”

“Where will you go?” Your voice grated painfully as it came out, but you tried to keep an air of nonchalance about you. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could see his shoulders shrug helplessly.

“I don’t know…everywhere. Anywhere.”

Anywhere was better than stuck here with you, apparently.

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is.” You offered, and you found that you meant it. As much as it hurt to say, you really, really meant it. Sirius had been fighting and running his entire life, and he finally won. If he wanted to celebrate his victory by taking off to be that rich, vague uncle who popped by with lavish gifts every so often, who were you to deny him?

You loved him.

You were in love with him.

You loved him enough to let him go.

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

He had sent James a postcard a few weeks later. Turns out he started in the South of France; his family had a home there that had been left untouched by the war, and Sirius was going to start by figuring out what to do with the property.

And you? Well, you found out you were pregnant.

You suppose it was a small mercy that Sirius wasn’t here to know; you’re sure it would have hurt more hearing him tell you he was leaving if there were two of you he couldn’t find it in him to love. You would have hated it even more if he felt trapped into staying with you just for this.

But all this meant was that you couldn’t stay, either.

You supposed that was alright, though; the life you wanted to build here was with Sirius. You loved your friends, but you had a little one to think about now, too.

You made up a story about a great aunt needing help tending to her property and wishing to be closer to your relatives now that you could be, now that it was safe. No one questioned it, likely because Remus had done the same following the war; moving back home to help his dad and ailing mother tend the property in whatever ways he could.

You found yourself a little cottage, you wrote to the boys and had the occasional phone call with Lily, and you grew.

It had felt like a good idea at the time.

But now you were almost six months pregnant and returning home for the first time since you moved to celebrate your nephew’s birthday with all of your closest friends, the love of your life whose child you were carrying, and none of them knew.

You wondered if you should even go, but the thought of missing out on sweet Harry’s second birthday that the lot of you almost never got the chance to see made your throat constrict with tears you refused to shed since the war.

You wondered if you should tell everyone before you arrived, but the thought of them all discussing you and your pregnancy without you being there left you feeling small and ashamed.

You wondered if you should tell Sirius, but you looked over at the stack of unopened letters he had sent to you in the past four months - the first thin, perhaps a postcard, the second and third were thicker, the fourth was by far the thickest (like he had drafted an autobiography that he wanted you to proofread for him), the fifth was similar to the second, whilst the sixth (the last) couldn’t be more than one page - and wondered how the hell you’d even start that conversation after all this time.

Hey, remember me? Yeah, the bird who caught feelings during our friends with benefits situation that we both agreed would remain platonic amidst a battle for survival and then begged you to stay with no success? Well, whilst you’ve been off probably shagging every beautiful woman across the British Isles, I’ve been pregnant. Right, with your child. How was France, by the way?

You swallowed around your gag reflex and groaned at your image in the mirror. You put on a pair of gingham pants with the baggiest band-tee you could find, planned on sucking in the best you could if anyone (when everyone) insisted on a hug and hoped to every deity that they all just assumed you’d been eating really well since the end of the war.

You smoothed the fabric over your bump one last time before you left - looking at the proof that, if nothing else, you were protecting more than just yourself, and you let that be enough - before you grabbed Harry’s birthday present and called for Potter Manor, throwing a fistfull of floo powder into your fireplace and travelling by way of the flames.

You could hear Harry squealing in delight in one of the adjacent rooms as you stepped into the floo reception room at Potter Manor; a smile taking over your face uninhibitedly at the sounds of the people you loved more than life itself, happy and celebrating.

How could you have gone so long without this?

“Y/N!” Lily shrieked as she made for you, and you sucked in before returning her hug. “Merlin, you're glowing! Where’s your aunt's place again?”

“Erm. Killarney.” You offered; not entirely untrue - you did have an aunt in Killarney.

“Well,” she let out with a breath, eyes turning a touch glassy as they darted across your face, “it seems that Irish air’s been for you.”

You smiled back at your friend before pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ve missed you, Lils.”

“Don’t let it go so long next time, yeah? We can come to you, too; I’m teaching James how to be a muggle, and Harry’s only had the odd burst of accidental magic yet. We could play the part in front of your aunt.”

“I’d love that, Lily.” You responded earnestly.

“Y/N!” James hollered then before you were being bodily tackled by the former quidditch chaser, a brief flash of anxiety at his hold around your stomach abating only when he relinquished his hold on you. “Where in the sodding hell have you been!?”

“Killarney.” Lily answered for you.

“I love Killarney!”

“Have you ever been to Killarney, Prongs?” Remus asked then, appearing in the door as he leaned against the archway.

“No! But I love it there! I just know it!”

“Hey Moony.” You greeted, quickly accepting his open arms and breathing him in.

“We’ve missed you.” He murmured into your hair, and you couldn’t help the traitorous hitch in your heart that he might’ve meant-

“Uncle Pafoo!” Harry squealed, suddenly standing right underneath you.

“That’s right, Haz!” The voice that haunts your dreams called out. “Auntie is here!”

“Hullo, Harry!” You cheered as you picked him up, sucking in before settling on your hip. “Happy birthday, little dude.”

“Am two!” He announced as he held up four fingers.

“You are two! Way to go!” You laughed. “Is everyone here?” You asked the room, shooting Sirius a tight smile so you couldn’t be accused of hostility when your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason.

He looked tired - a bone deep tired that no amount of sleep could rectify - and the bags under his eyes seemed to be chronic. But he was still so beautiful; his hair had grown slightly longer since the last time you’d seen it, the last time you’d run your fingers through it, the last time you’d brought sheers to it, and he donned more than a few new tattoos if the few you could see were enough to go by.

You had to look away.

“Reg’s going to be by after work; his part-time student called in sick so he needed to be there to close the shop himself. Thankfully, they’re only open in the morning on Sunday’s.” Remus explained kindly.

“Good, it’ll be nice to see him.” You offered, and the room fell slightly awkward.

“Uncle Pafoo, aeroplane?” Harry asked then, and whatever exhaustion seemed to be plaguing Sirius vanished as he beamed at his godson.

“Absolutely, little man!” He agreed, holding his arms out and taking Harry’s weight from you.

“Do you want something to drink, Y/N? Wine? Beer, Cider? Juice? Water?” James rapid fire, causing Lily to groan.

“We just got her back, Potter. Do try to control yourself.”

“Water would be great, Jamie. Thank you.” You laughed, following the group into the open concept kitchen-to-living room.

Save the fact that you and Sirius seemed to be doing acrobatics to avoid each other, you were almost stunned at how easy and natural being back here felt. Regulus returned and the two of you shared friendly jibes, Lily caught you up on all of the drama at the Ministry, James strong armed you into agreeing to join them for their next pub quiz night, and Remus said that your old professors all wished you well.

You loved your cottage - the home you’d built for yourself and your little one - but you found yourself feeling homesick for here, and you hadn’t even left yet.

You were leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island, watching Sirius and Regulus pretend to be knights in shining armour as they fought off a fire breathing dragon (Harry) to save the princess (James) when Remus appeared beside you and mirrored your stance.

“It’s not the same without you, you know?” He murmured then.

“But they seem to be alright.” You responded simply, and Remus allowed the two of you to fall into silence for a few beats.

“How far along are you?”

You stood up straight and turned to stare at him in horror, only to see him smiling kindly at you.

“How do you-”

“Lycanthropy - I could smell it on you.” He said with an embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. “I knew Lily was pregnant before she did.”

You shushed him and looked over your shoulder to ensure no one else could hear you.

“Come.” He said with a sigh, gently taking you by the elbow and ushering you out of the sliding doors to the back yard and closing it behind the two of you.

“Remus-”

“Is it his?” He cut you off; his face held no judgement though perhaps just a touch of concern. For you or his best friend/virtual brother-in-law, you weren’t sure.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to clarify who he was talking about; you both knew.

Remus simply nodded as he looked you over. “Is that why you left?”

“He left first.” You hissed petulantly.

“He left you, but you left all of us.” Remus countered somewhat sternly. “Besides, I didn’t ask about him; is this why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because, Remus!” You shouted, tears flooding your vision as you turned to look at him. “Because he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want me. I wasn’t going to force him to come back just because… just because.”

“Don’t you think he should have been able to make that choice for himself?” Remus asked gently.

“He chose! He did choose! He told me he couldn’t play house, he told me he couldn’t be this person for me. I loved him enough to accept that. I loved him enough to let him go.”

“Loved?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head. “Past tense?”

“Remus.” You groaned. “Please.”

“He came back for you, you know.” Remus pointed out. “He left you, you left us, but he came back for you.”

“Stop it.”

“It’s true, Y/N.”

“And so what if it is?” You nearly sobbed. “So what if he did, Remus? What can I do? I can’t go back in time and change my mind, I can’t go back and fix this. He made choices, I made choices, and here we are.”

Remus heaved a sigh and looked at you sadly. “I don't think either of you realise that your choices don’t have to remain permanent; there can be an expiration date on them.”

You were catching your breath from your mini temper tantrum when you heard the glass door slide open, both you and Remus turning to see Sirius standing there almost shy - far shier than you’d ever seen him before.

“Just talk to him? Okay? You..don’t have to tell him now, just…talk to him.” Remus whispered before heading towards the door, clapping Sirius on the back before disappearing back into the house.

“Hey.” Sirius offered cautiously after a few beats of silence, coming to stand beside you as the two of you looked over the railing of the patio to the rest of the manor grounds.

“Hey.” You returned dumbly, clearing your throat before continuing. “You…you look good, Sirius.”

Sirius scoffed, and you could feel your shoulder rising before you saw him smirk at you - if not somewhat sadly - cutting you a playful glare from the corner of his eye. “Did you take up lying there in Ireland?”

You let out a breathy half-laugh. “I’m not lying.”

“Then you need glasses. I look like shite.”

“You look tired.” You amended.

“I’m exhausted.” He agreed, and the two of you lapsed into silence.

“You look good, though.” He continued. “Healthy.”

You hummed in agreement. “Funny what not having to run on rations and broken hours of sleep on military cots does for a person.”

“Why haven’t I heard from you, Y/N?” He blurted then, turning his entire body to face you.

“Sirius, I-”

“Everyone else has. You’ve spoken to Lily on the phone. James and Remus have gotten letters. Even Reg got a postcard for his birthday.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage to say.

“I wrote to you.” He continued. “Letters, a lot. Did you get them?”

You nodded your head yes shamefully.

“Did you read them?”

You felt your heart splinter at how hopeful and heartbroken he sounded over it. You felt like scum of the earth when you shook your head no, and he let out a sigh.

“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better, then.” He said as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

You found yourself taking a step away from him when you asked “why does that make you feel better?”

He let out a humourless laugh that forced smoke from his lips. “At least now I know that my begging for a second chance, begging you to come home, professing my love for you isn’t what kept you away.”

“Sirius-”

“I messed up, Y/N.” He declared earnestly. “I…I was fucking scared, terrified. I’d spent so much of my life living with one foot on the threshold of hell that after the war, I didn’t know how to live amongst the undead.”

He took a moment to catch his breath as if he’d run all the way here just to tell you something. “And I ran. I bolted, I…”

“You left.” You finished for him.

“I left.” He agreed. “I… I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know what?” You asked as you choked back tears.

“Didn’t know what I had, or what I wanted. Or that I had everything that I wanted.”

“And you do, now? You know what you want?” You asked, and a look of determination painted his features as he met your gaze head on.

“For my entire life, I had never known what family meant, so I wasn’t even aware that I’d created my own with all of you until I’d risked it all. I was so sure I didn’t want to be like my parents that I never realised I may actually…want to be a parent someday. I was so sure I didn’t want to be my father that I never realised I actually did want to be a partner someday. I was so certain I’d never know what true love felt like that I didn’t even realise I had it right here all along with you.”

“Sirius-”

“I messed up. I left. But what I don’t understand is why you did. Or why you stayed away.” He took a step towards you with his cigarette long forgotten in one of his hands, the ash threatening to burn his fingers before you plucked it and stubbed it out on the stone railing. He barely flinched. “Why’d you go?”

“I didn’t want to sit around and wait for you, Sirius. I- it hurt, I was hurt. And then-”

“I’m sorry.” He offered quickly, but you shook your head.

“I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry, I just-”

“I came back for you.”

��But it wasn’t just about me anymore, Sirius!” You shouted then, and you watched his brows furrow before his face fell in horror.

“You’re seeing someone.” He asked, though he phrased it as more of a statement; like he’d been expecting it.

“I’m not seeing anyone, Sirius.” You sighed.

“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you stay away?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You blurted, and Sirius fell silent. “I’m almost six months pregnant.”

“Six-” He started, eyes falling to your stomach still hidden behind the baggy article of clothing before you smoothed the fabric over your ever rounding bump. “Six months. Six…”

You let him do the maths in the head as he stared hard at your stomach like he was sitting in divination and it was a crystal ball that might just give him the answers if only he stared at it long enough.

“It’s mine?” He finally concluded.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“It’s mine. You’re pregnant, it’s mine.” He murmured, before his eyes met yours again. “You’re pregnant with my child?”

“Right.” You agreed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor.

“Sirius Orion Black,” Sirius heard Remus hiss, clearly hovering somewhere over him, “I swear to Godric if you do not wake up and eat some of this godsdamned vanilla cake you bought, your brother is going to skin you alive.”

“It’s true.” James agreed from somewhere on Sirius’ other side. “He actually ran to the store when he found out you bought vanilla because he knew Remus wouldn’t eat any of it. Remus is going to get his chocolate cake, and you’re going to get egged.”

“Shut up.” Sirius hissed as he scrunched his eyes closed. “Fuck.”

“How do you feel, mate?” James asked rather jovially as he clapped him roughy on the shoulder.

“Like hell.”

“Why’s that?” Remus joined in.

“Because I was in the middle of a dream and you sods woke me up going on about cake.” He muttered as he opened his eyes, realising then that he’d been propped up on a number of cushions in one of Lily and James’ spare rooms.

“S’he awake?” Lily whispered, and Sirius craned his neck to see you and Lily poke your heads into the room.

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed as he sat up, likely far too fast for someone who fell unconscious mere moments ago. “Oh my gods, you’re actually here?”

“Did you hit your head, mate?” James asked as he prodded at Sirius’ head, causing Sirius to swat his arms away as he shifted towards the edge of the bed.

“You’re here.” He whispered as you slowly made your way into the room.

“I’m here.” You offered cautiously, eyes darting around at your oldest friends like there might be some secret threat lurking in the room.

“You’re pregnant…” He tried then, punching the air right out of Lily and James who both spun to stare at you in shock.

You smoothed the fabric of your shirt over your midsection again to expose a very obvious (now that everyone could actually see it) baby bump.

“Oh my gods!” Lily and James chorused, causing Remus to snort.

“You knew, didn’t you!?” Lily accused Remus who held his hands up in surrender.

“Only when she walked in, and not a second sooner.”

“With my child.” Sirius continued, and you nodded at him.

“Y/N.” Lily winced. “You-”

“You sodding scared me!” You shrilled then, grabbing one of the throw pillows James had dumped onto the ground to make room for Sirius and swinging it at him.

“I scared you!?” Sirius shrieked right back, much to the delight of Harry who started banging on the throw pillow that had landed beside him.

“I thought I killed you!”

“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry that finding out the woman I’ve been in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months - who was missing for all intents and purposes, may I remind you - is pregnant with my child happened to be a little shocking.” Sirius sneered sarcastically.

“Well I only went ‘missing’ because the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months took off an-” The abrupt end of your statement nearly gave the room whiplash as you cut yourself off mid sentence and stared at Sirius like you’d never seen him before.

“What…what just happened?” James whispered carefully.

“Years?” You whispered then, and Sirius hated every version of himself that deigned to let you go without knowing just how loved you were.

“Probably when we were still just cosmic dust.” Sirius smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t always realise, I’m sorry I didn’t make sure that you knew.”

“I take it to guess there isn’t an aunt in Killarney?” Lily offered then, smiling kindly at you when you turned your attention towards her.

“No, I- I think there actually is an aunt in Killarney, I just don’t live with her.”

“Where do you live?” Sirius asked eagerly, wondering if you could hear it in his voice or even see on his face just how desperate he was to know everything about you.

“Near Tintagel.” You offered abashedly as Remus slapped his hand on his thigh.

“You minx!” He scolded you. “You lived basically across the channel from me this whole time!”

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is” You offered him then, smiling through your tears as Sirius swallowed around his bile threatening its way up his oesophagus.

“I hope it’s nice.” Sirius blurted suddenly, and Sirius thanked the heavens for Remus John Lupin who seemed to understand that the conversation delved beyond the need of an audience, scooping Harry up and closing the door behind Lily, James, and himself to give you two some privacy.

“It’s nice.” You offered wetly. “It’s quiet.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. “In Tintagel, near Merlin’s cave?”

You laughed, which saw Sirius smiling. “I’m not right in Tintagel, just outside. My neighbours are mostly sheep.”

“Does it have a picket fence?”

“To keep the sheep out of my garden.” You nodded with a smile.

“Flowers; lots of them.” Sirius deduced, you nodded again though Sirius watched your smile falter.

“You’d probably hate it.”

“Are you there?” He asked quickly.

“Well, usually, yes.” You offered, and Sirius shrugged easily.

“Sounds as though it might be my favourite place in the world, then.”

The next breath that left you shuddered on its way out, and Sirius finally stood and met you in the middle of the room; close enough to touch but not daring to. He hadn’t earned that right yet.

“Take me with you?” He all but begged then, and your face crumpled in misery.

“Sirius, I don’t want you to follow me because you have to, I-”

“I don’t have to though, I know I don’t; I know you’d never make me.” He assured you then, lifting a hand but pausing to wait for you to nod at him before he placed it on your upper arm. “The letters, Y/N, I- I’ve been looking for you for months.”

A sob tore through you as you lowered your head, and Sirius allowed himself to catch it in his free hand.

“I don’t want you to feel bad; I’m not telling you so that you feel bad, love.” The endearment falling off his tongue so easily now that he had you in his arms. “But I need you to know that I want you - any of you, all of you - and have for a very long time.”

“It’s just…you said-” and Sirius knew exactly what he said; he had played that conversation over and over and over in his mind until he found himself sick over it more than once. But we waited for you to tell him anyhow; he’d always wait for you. “You couldn’t settle down and be content, you couldn’t play house; you weren’t that kind of guy.”

“I know, doll. I know.” He whispered. “I…I didn’t think I was capable of it. I didn’t think I deserved everything I wanted and I knew that you deserved better. That you deserve better.”

“But?”

“But I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life trying to prove you otherwise; trying to give you everything you deserve.”

“Sirius…” You sighed, and Sirius could see your walls cracking. “I…I’m-”

“Take me home? Please?” He begged then, words interrupted by a sob of his own. “To Tintagel, to Killarney, to bloody fucking Azkaban or the bottom of the sodding ocean, I don’t care where it is just as long as it’s with you, please. Please.”

Your hands landed on Sirius’ chest and he was sure you could feel his hummingbird heart beating under your fingertips. He only hoped you knew how it beat for you.

“Please bring me home?”

James didn’t know if he could consider this a success or not.

His motivation was not singular; it was a ‘hit two fairies with one gobstone’ sort of scenario, so to speak. Was his son turning two? Indeed he was! Was James throwing a party for said son’s birthday? You’re damned right he was. But was it also a really good excuse to force two of his idiot best friends into the same room again? Absolutely.

Except James seems to have gotten slightly more than he bargained for; Sirius falling unconscious in his childhood backyard, you sobbing into Lily’s shoulder out in the hallway as he and Remus tried to bring him back from the dead, Remus sneering at a slice of birthday cake like it personally offended him and Regulus threatening to defend his boyfriend’s honour, and - apparently - a new niece or nephew coming in the next three-ish months.

But when he looked over to see you and Sirius emerging from the spare room - both of your faces tear stained and puffy from the grief and torment you no doubt put yourselves through - hands intertwined between your bodies and your hand resting protectively over your growing bump, and a spark in Sirius’ eyes James had thought he lost in the war but now realised he only lost when he lost you…

…yeah, James figured he could probably consider this a success.

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pluvionpc · 1 month ago

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anidala as…

Homecoming by Hans Adolf Bühler, 1939

(disclaimer: not meant to reference or support original artist’s views or intent)

“‘No.’ He laid a gentle finger on her lips, smiling down at her. ‘No buts. No worries. You worry too much as is.’

‘I have to,’ she said, smiling through the tears in her eyes. ‘Because you never worry at all.’”

— Matthew Stover, Revenge of the Sith Novelization

[ original + rambles under the cut ]

sometimes i think about the realness of anidala’s stories. boys much too young sent off to war; their lovers taking on the emotional burden of being their relief. i think about how padmé, as a senator, would have her own struggles and worries to face alongside stressing that her teenage husband wasn’t going to return from the frontlines. i wonder if she was able to talk about it when they met up, the same way we see her constantly listening to his ongoing turmoil— especially during the latter half of the war. or, maybe, they just sat together. two people charging head-first into different types of battles because they felt they had no other options. i have to do this.

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hairmetal666 · 1 year ago

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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #angst #friends to lovers #angst with a happy ending #idiots in love #mutual pining #famous eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #pathetic gay yearning #fluff #the one that got away #second chances #getting together

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renjunphile · 5 months ago

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freedom ain't nothing but missing you ☆ jung sungchan

ᯓ★ WORD COUNT: 13.6k

ᯓ★ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader

ᯓ★ TAGS & WARNINGS: college!au, second chance romance, college antics - partying, drinking, brief mentions of vomiting, reader has mad commitment issues you wanna punch her in the face, pining

ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS: the last time you saw him was when you looked over your shoulder at his weeping figure one last time at the airport. four seasons have passed and your heart tightens at the sight of his smiling face, wishing it was directed at you.

ᯓ★ NOTES: what would a renjunphile fic be without a second chance romance element ! sorry it's my favourite trope i can never let go of it :') all my stories are really the same now ! also me *handshake* using aespa members as side characters lol at the start of story, y/n and hyung line are going into 4th year, sohee and seunghan into 3rd year and anton into 2nd year.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You hear your best friend's voice before you see her. If you had just looked a little more to the left, you would've spotted her immediately anyway as she waved a large piece of pink card-stock with your name displayed in a glittery explosion.

"Y/N! Over here!" she cooed at you loudly from behind the barrier, "Y/N!!!"

You quickly weave around the other passengers as expertly as you could with your trolley of bags, but Minjeong is quick to meet you at the exit. She drops the sign onto your cluster of suitcases and wraps her arms around your neck, squealing into your ear with glee.

"I missed you too, Jeong," you giggled at her embrace, "I told you that you didn't have to get me!"

She scoffed at you as she pulled away, "What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't welcome you back home after a year away! You said your parents couldn't come and meet you, so I came!"

You think back to your conversation just before you got on the god-awful long flight with her, recalling how your parents thought it was too far for them to drive up from your hometown when they were already coming the week after for your birthday.

"Thanks babe," you thanked her sincerely, bumping your hip against hers while the two of you began to push the cart together. You couldn't believe that you were able to pack your whole life in just two large suitcases and one small one, "By the way, how are we getting back into the city?"

Minjeong didn't drive; she'd rather walk to her destination in the wind, snow, hail or storm than learn how to get behind the wheel. She was a self proclaimed "passenger princess", which you admired and envied from the way your friends (including her) used you like their own personal taxi service when you had your car. Sadly for your friends, you were not hesitant when it came to selling your car at the end of your second year of university, just weeks before you packed up your life and moved to New York for the new school year. While you sometimes missed your slightly beat up Hyundai on the days that you had to get on the subway with arms full of groceries, you couldn't justify the purchase of a car again for your final year of university.

"I assisted the help of a special someone," Minjeong winked at you happily, watching your face contort in horror immediately, "Wait, no. Not that one. I promise."

You let out a sigh of relief that you didn't even know you were holding back as you cramped together in the car park's elevator. There were many people you haven't seen in a year. There were many people you've missed and wished to see. But you didn't think you could face him right now, at this very second.

"Who is it?" you prodded curiously, but she just gave you an innocent smile and pushed the cart out of the elevator and towards a shiny car about 30 steps from the doors

You couldn't make out the figure sat in the driver's seat, no matter how you craned your head until he got out and faced you straight on.

"Chanyoung!" you gasped in surprise, welcoming him in a tight hug, "Since when did you learn how to drive?"

"Just this year, noona. Welcome home!" he chuckled from above you. You wondered if he grew any more since the last time you saw him, cause it definitely felt like it.

Chanyoung was Minjeong's little cousin that began his studies at your university as you were leaving. Despite that, he grew to be a familiar presence as he lived nearby and always dropped by the apartment you shared with his cousin. He was truly one of your favourite people since he was so sweet and caring.

Before you could finish your greetings with Chanyoung, Minjeong had already loaded your (very heavy) bags into the trunk of Chanyoung's new car and had collapsed in the back seat, "Let's go guys. I'm sure Y/N's tired, but you can sit in the front."

Without another word, she dropped her head to the window and began to doze off. You clambered into the front seat and gave Chanyoung a thumbs up to head out.

"How was your first year at university, 'Ton?" you asked.

"Super good, actually. It was really helpful to know all of your friends before I entered so I never felt alone or lost or anything," he recounted the times that you missed, "By the way, thank you for letting me stay in your room. My first year definitely wouldn't be the same if I still lived at home."

You shared a two-bedroom apartment with Minjeong just off campus during your second year at university after meeting her on the first day of first year and becoming fast friends. You had warned her that you probably would have to find a temporary replacement while you were halfway across the world, but when word got out to her little cousin, he begged to take over your room while you were gone. Since he lived in Seoul already, his parents weren't very willing to let him test his luck and go into dorms with a stranger, but they were much more open to letting him live with his older and allegedly more responsible older cousin until he found friends to live with for the next year.

"No worries; I'd rather it was you than a stranger," you shrugged, "Who are you living with again?"

"Sohee and Seunghan," he tapped his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the song quietly playing on the radio, "You know them, right?"

Your heart squeezed again at the thought of the boys you got to know in the year before you left, "Yeah, a bit. Haven't spoken to them in a long time, though. I hope it's not awkward to see everyone again, otherwise I'll just lock myself in my room until I graduate."

"Everyone misses you, noona," Anton assured you softly, "I know that for sure."

You opened your mouth to say what your heart desired, but closed it again hesitantly as your brain came to the rescue of your emotions. Anton flashed a look at you from the driver's seat, but chose not to comment when he saw the conflicted expression on your face.

"Tell me about your time in New York," his soft voice pulled you gently out of the mess that was unravelling in your head.

You gave him a small, knowing smile and began recounting your favourite memories and your life in the city that never sleeps.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Around 4PM, you waved your parents away as they pulled out from the car park under your apartment complex. They had a pretty long drive back to your hometown with work early the next day, but you were grateful they made the drive up in the morning to celebrate your birthday with you. You had taken them to your previous favourite Italian restaurant for lunch, but after tasting more authentic cuisine in New York in the predominantly Italian neighbourhoods, you weren't sure if the restaurant was as good as you remembered it to be. Still, you enjoyed the lunch and catching up with your parents with what had happened in the last 6 months since they came to visit you abroad. With a hug and a kiss goodbye, they were driving away from you once again.

When you returned back upstairs to your apartment, Minjeong was waiting for you patiently on the couch with her legs and arms crossed and a mischievous smirk on her face.

"What?" you groaned in anticipation.

"I picked out an outfit for you while you were out. It's on the bed. Get ready," she grinned, clapping her hands together, "We have dinner plans. Meet back here in an hour and a half."

"That's really not necessary, Jeong," you pleaded, but she just turned her nose up at you, reiterating her instructions.

To be honest, you had planned to spend the rest of your birthday cuddled up on the couch with your best friend, probably watching a chick-flick or a horror or both. She stomped away to her room and you fearfully tiptoed to yours. Knowing her, she would have picked out something a bit more showy than you would like.

However, you were pleasantly surprised at the dress laid out on your bed, with a note in her handwriting. It wasn't something she picked out of your closet- it was a dress she had bought for you. It was a flowing mini dress with ruffles extending from the skirt and a corset bodice you knew would flatter you. You sent her a grateful text and began to freshen up your hair and makeup from your morning outfit.

From your outfit, you guessed it would be in a sit-down restaurant that was more refined than a bbq restaurant whose smoke would cling to your hair, skin and clothes for days. However, knowing Minjeong, you couldn't put anything past her. After all, she was the one that convinced you to drink soju with her at a stall on the side of a dirt road in your floor length silk dresses after your first year ball. An hour and a half later, you had curled and then re-curled your hair, did your eyeliner twice and marvelled at how the light pink dress your best friend bought you fit you like a glove. When you heard Minjeong calling out your name, you were finishing buckling the heeled Mary Janes that you loved and made sure that everything you could need for the night was in your purse.

In the week you had been back in Seoul, all you had done was unpack your suitcases and make the room feel like yours again. School wasn't starting for another week, so all the friends that you tried to meet up with told you that they were still in their hometowns, due to come a few days before the fall semester began.

"Urgh, I knew it would look amazing on you!" Minjeong analysed you in awe. Trust the fashion design and marketing major to have an eye for these types of things.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" you eyed her suspiciously as she looped her arm around yours and dragged you out of your shared apartment.

"You can find out when we get there," Minjeong tapped on her phone, "The taxi's outside, quick!"

The destination set for the taxi was somewhere you weren't familiar with. The street name definitely didn't ring a bell. Perhaps a new restaurant had opened in that area while you were gone and Minjeong was just trying to catch you up to the city again.

Speaking of the girl beside you, she spent the whole ride with her eyebrows furrowed together as she furiously tapped away on her phone. You wouldn't say that you were a particularly nosy person (lie), but her privacy screen protector made it impossible for you to see who she was texting. It was probably Heeseung anyway- her on-again, off-again boyfriend of four years, but more like two.

"Are you guys fighting again?" you teased.

"Huh?" she looked up at you in confusion and her face flashed with recognition, "Yeah, yeah. It's nothing. Don't worry, but look we're basically here."

Apparently 'here' meant on the street that was lined by endless blocks of high rise flats and a few convenience stores dotted about.

"Did you make me dress up to eat ramen at a GS25?" you prodded your finger in the direction of the store.

Minjeong laughed heartily, "No silly! I made you dress up to eat ramen at a 7/11!" she pointed at the stripy neon sign at the opposite end of the street. She captured your arm in hers once more, tugging to make you walk with her, "Just trust me. It's the hottest place in town."

You don't think that the hottest place in town was Block 7 of this high rise complex, but you say nothing as she buzzed for apartment 08 and caught the lift up to the 4th floor. Minjeong was known to find all the hottest spots in town, so you really try to keep it to yourself as she knocked on the door that looked far too much like an apartment door, including the mail next to the door mat.

She didn't even wait for someone to answer, just pushed down on the handle and nudged for you to enter into the darkness.

"Surprise!"

You clasped a hand over your mouth as light flooded the room and a group of about 20 people screamed at you. From behind you, Minjeong was cheering, pushing you further into what now seemed to be an apartment instead of a restaurant. With 20 pairs of eyes staring at you all at once, it took you a few seconds to shake yourself out of the shock and recognise anyone. The place was decorated with banners and balloons of your favourite colours, with steaming food on the dining table in the corner of the room.

"Happy birthday! Welcome home!" Karina, Yizhuo and Giselle were the first to crush you ina hug.

"We're sorry we declined your plans to hang out," Yizhuo pouted, "We thought we would give away the surprise that Jeong planned if we saw you."

You waved a dismissive hand at your younger friend, "It's okay. This is so sweet of you guys!" You felt Minjeong join the embrace.

"We thought you deserved it since we didn't get to spend your birthday with you last year," Giselle added on as the group pulled away from you.

Last year, you had spent your birthday alone, wandering around New York City for the first time and procuring free birthday goods from all the establishments that offered it.

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" you heard a deeper voice coo at you as you were pulled away from your girls. You were suddenly face to face with one of your closer guy friends from before.

"Eunseok!" you accepted his side hug, "Hi!"

"Welcome home! We all missed you so much," at his words, you dart your eyes around the room and find 5 boys hiding behind Eunseok's tall figure. They each hug you one by one, ending with Chanyoung who gives you the cheekiest grin.

"Welcome to our apartment," he grinned proudly, gesturing at himself, Sohee and Seunghan.

"Where'd you get all this money from, huh? I should've charged you more rent," you teased, eyeing the modern, open-plan space. The floor to ceiling windows on one wall of the room with a view over the river really sold you on the idea that this was an expensive apartment.

"You can throw as many parties as you like here," Shotaro giggled, "We know we're going to!"

"Yeah, whose birthday is it next?" Wonbin pondered.

"Oh! It's-" Eunseok smacked Sohee in the stomach before he could finish his words, laughing nervously.

The 6 boys in front of you watched in despair as your smile fell ever so slightly before you recovered it again.

"I'll go say hi to everyone else," you murmured softly, catching Wonbin's regretful face.

"Y/N, he's-"

"It's okay, Bin," you smiled softly, ignoring the pounding in your heart and head, "I wouldn't have expected him to come. He probably hates me, right?"

You turned around without letting any of the boys say another word, joining your group of friends from your dance club. While your friendship with them was something you treasured deeply, you fell out of touch with them in your year abroad quite quickly. You didn't put much thought into the people that did or didn't keep in contact, considering you were focused on making friends and trying to live in the moment abroad. Besides, you were coming back anyway. What's a year in the grand scheme of things?

Your heart panged at that thought, but you tried to push it away as Jisung tackled you in a tight hug. Ryujin and Yeji had to physically peel the towering kid away from you as you dove into conversation about what you had spent the last year doing.

As the conversation came to an end, your eyes fell on the 6 boys stood around in a circle, whispering hushedly and stealing quick glances at you. When you caught Seunghan's eye, he just chuckled nervously and dismissed you, but the sight of them, incomplete, caused your heart to tense up.

All the most important people in your university life was in this room. All, except one.

"Jeong, I'm just gonna catch some air. Just quickly," you tapped your best friend on the back, just before waving and greeting her potentially current boyfriend Heeseung.

"Oh, I'll come with!" she began to untangle herself from his embrace, but you just clicked your teeth and shook your head.

"No, it's okay. I can go alone; I'll be quick. Just buzz me up when I ring?" you requested. She gave you an unsure look, but settled back into Heeseung's form.

Ignoring the stares on your back, you ran down the two flights of stairs and pushed open the door to outside. Since it was the start of fall and 6pm, the sun was beginning to go down. The sky wasn't yet pink and purple, but instead glowing an ethereal gold, bathing you in light rays. You fiddled with the phone in your hand, grasping it tightly as you debated what to do. His contact was staring up at you, almost taunting you to do something with it. Call it? Message it? Delete it?

Your finger hovered over the phone symbol. Surely he'd want to hear from you, right? The way you ended things wasn't... satisfactory. It gave neither of you closure. You needed to speak to him, right?

Fuck it, you think to yourself. It's your birthday. You can do whatever you like. As you pressed the call button, you shakily lifted the phone up to your ears, counting the rings.

Ring ring, ring ring, ring-

"Y/N?" his voice is familiar, soothing the nerves that plagued you at the thought of him letting your call go unanswered.

"Sungchan," you began hesitantly, "I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm uh- I'm back in Seoul."

"Y/N," he repeated, making you aware of the sounds of his feet hitting the pavement through the phone and his laboured, shaky breaths.

"Shit, are you busy? Am I interrupting something?" your stomach folded in on itself as you realised he didn't answer your statement. He was probably at the gym- Minjeong told you he'd taken that up in your absence.

"Y/N," he breathed out again, the patters of his feet coming to a stop, "Look up."

You tore your eyes away from your feet- the only thing that was distracting you from internalising too hard that you were calling your kind-of ex-boyfriend.

As you lifted your eyes up, a tall figure came into view across the street from you. Sungchan was stood panting, one hand holding his phone up to his ear and the other holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Sungchan?" the call dropped as the figure took a step into the street, hastily running over to stop just shy from you.

"I don't hate you," it's the first time you're hearing his voice in one year, "The boys- they said that you said- I wanted to come, but I didn't know if you wanted me here."

He's trying to maintain eye contact, but he's clutching the flowers to his chest as he pants. You were at ease enough to chuckle, "Sungchan, did you run here?"

In this light, his eyes shined and sparkled. You've missed looking into them and getting lost all night in his gaze. You missed the way he would look at you like you were the most precious thing on earth to him.

He flashed you a toothy smile, "Mhm, didn't want to make you wonder. Just wanted to tell you that."

"A text would've sufficed."

He analysed your expression and took one large step back, "Ah, am I reading this wrong? Did you not want me to come?"

You took one step forward, "I'm sorry I didn't call as soon as I got back."

Relief flooded Sungchan's whole body as he stretched his arm to offer the bouquet to you, "It's whatever. Happy birthday, Y/N."

"Thanks, Sungchan," you smiled sincerely, "Do you want to head up now together? I'm kind of hungry and I think there's pizza."

"Yeah, sure!" his face is practically lit up at your invitation, but he hesitated to follow you, "Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you," he whispered shyly, "Just so you know."

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You met Sungchan three weeks into your first year of university. Minjeong's boyfriend Heeseung had joined the soccer team in the first week and their first game came around quickly. The two of you were like two peas in a pod, bundled up together in matching scarves bearing your university's colours and logo, shivering on the school's bleachers.

Your friend's eyes were trained on her boyfriend from home, but you had the lucky status of being able to cast your eyes on each player and make your judgement. The game had been going on for about 30 minutes with your school being 2-0 up. Both goals had been scored by the team's #23, a scrawny tall boy whose name you could just about make out from your distance.

"Jung's pretty good," you hummed to your friend.

"#23? His name's Sungchan, I think. Hee says he's really nice. Want me to get you two acquainted?" Minjeong wiggled her eyebrows at you, but you rolled your eyes.

You were determined to find love as naturally as possible at university. Back home, you'd been on a few first days with a few guys set up through your friends, but they were all the same to you- not cute enough, not interesting enough. You hadn't been desperate to get into a relationship, especially knowing that you were going to apply to spend your third year abroad if you kept your grades up. But when Sungchan slid in to the seat beside yours for your shared lecture meeting your GenEd requirements, you had lost all semblance of that.

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" he had offered his hand out to you, "I'm Sungchan. I've seen you around with Heeseung's girlfriend and I've seen you in this lecture a few times."

You had taken his hand in yours, gripping firmly and giving him a shy smile, "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you,"

When he continued to sit beside you for another few weeks, asking you questions in hushed whispers and explaining concepts to you when you looked lost, you said nothing. When he started asking if you wanted to study in the library together in your two hour gap after your shared lecture, you said nothing. When library study-seshes turned into studying at a cafe where he'd buy you a drink, you said nothing. When that turned to just two hours of the two of you chatting and getting to know all about each other's lives with your laptops abandoned on the table, you said nothing.

It then turned into butterflies slowly erupting in your stomach as his face lit up the second he saw you in the theatre. It turned into your heart beating a little faster whenever his hand brushed against yours on the walk to the café you now frequented with him. It turned into finding comfort in him as he slowly began introducing you to his best friends, who would tease you endlessly. It turned into nervous giggles and pink cheeks as you spent the whole fall and winter denying anything was going on with you and Jung Sungchan.

When spring of your freshman year began to roll in, Sungchan had mustered up the courage to take your hand in his whenever your fingers did graze each other on the walks. Whenever you'd look up at him to question it, he'd just smile slyly and look off into the distance, quickly changing the topic before you could address it.

Spring break had you realising how much of a presence he was in your life. Walking through the parks of your hometown felt melancholy without him by your side. Studying at a cafe alone was productive, but you would miss the way that every time you looked up from your screen, he'd already be staring back at you, a soft smile permanently etched on his face.

Cherry blossom season was your favourite time of the year. So when you returned to your campus and found out the main square was lined with these bloomed trees, you had dragged Sungchan there immediately, even if he had just arrived from his hometown.

The joy in your eyes must have been so evident, reflecting back in his eyes as sparkles. When Sungchan had placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you bouncing, and then leaned his head down closer to yours, you didn't stop it. You had long been used to the way he made your heart race. It was a welcome feeling as he softly planted his lips on yours for the first time under the falling petals.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"Y/N," the sharp voice plucked you from your daydream, a bag making a thud on the wooden table, "What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?" your eyes focused in on Karina taking a seat in front of you at the café, "Nothing, nothing. Did you just have class?"

"My class ended early and I was just walking to my next class in 15, but I saw you through the window looking all sad and aloof," she explained, her eyebrows drawn together in worry, "Are you okay, girl?"

You met Karina with Minjeong at a club in the first week of your freshman year. She had been throwing up in the toilet with the door open and no one holding her hair, so Minjeong did that while you rubbed her back and cooed reassuring words. After confessing that she was getting drunk because she had just broken up with her high school boyfriend, the two of you captured her in your little group.

"It's just weird being back," you admitted.

She pouted at you sadly, "Aw, don't tell me you like your New York friends better than us?"

"No!" you squealed, laughing, "It's not that. I love you guys. It's just weird being back with Sungchan."

Her eyes morphed into a mix between empathy and sympathy, "Aw, babe. I'm sorry; I know it's weird. Whenever I meet my friends back home, I get a weird feeling seeing my ex there too. I imagine it must be worse for you since you ended on better terms than me and Mark did. It must be confusing, huh?"

Out of all your friends, Karina was the best one to be having this conversation with. While you loved Minjeong more than anything in the world, she was famous for breaking up with her boyfriend for random spats, but calling him and asking to get back together the very next moment she missed him. Absolutely no sense of longing in that department.

"I just don't know how I should act around him. Do we just go back to being friends like in first year? Should I pursue him again? Why does it feel like we're strangers to each other?"

During your party, you had thought Sungchan would stay by your side, but he quickly excused himself to join his friends and only gave you reluctant smiles through the night. Where had all the confidence disappeared to?

You saw him one more time in the two weeks after your party at the library. Eunseok had booked a large private study room at the library and texted you to come. Sungchan was already there when you came, his head stuck in a textbook. Other than shooting you a greeting and sliding the box of cookies in your direction, you got nothing else from him in three hours.

"You just need to get the worst of it over and talk to him. He must be just as confused as you are, to be honest," Karina sighed.

"He hasn't found someone else, right?" you asked reluctantly. Even if he had, it would have been your own fault anyway after the way you left him for dust at the airport.

Karina scoffed and rolled her eyes, "The only thing he's found in the past year is the gym. Taro says he's gone crazy. You know- post break-up glow up? He's become quite the heartbreaker, actually. All these girls started to notice him, but he never gives any of them the time of day."

You fight the scowl threatening to display on your face, "Oh, really?"

"Please, Y/N, he was always going to wait for you. I'd never seen a man so down bad and I know Heeseung." she scrunched up her face at the thought. Heeseung was famously untouchable by the girls at university, no matter how much they threw themselves at the football captain. Anyone else would be embarrassed by getting broken up with by their girlfriend every couple of months, but Heeseung always took it with stride and came crawling back with on his hands and knees towards her every time.

"Hm, you're wrong. I don't think anyone can beat that man," the memory of him scoring a hat-trick in the regional final with the words 'Take me back, Minjeong' written on his undershirt that he flashed while he celebrated the last goal cemented his position of number 1 loverboy in your mind.

"Potentially, but Sungchan drove four hours overnight to your hometown when your pet hamster died to comfort you in the summer between first and second year," Karina reminded you, "He charmed your strict parents so hard that by the time the night came, they let him stay in your room with you!"

"He brought expensive melons," you rolled your eyes, "I don't even know where he got those from at 2 in the morning."

"Exactly. Even I wouldn't gift my in-laws that expensive of a fruit no matter how much I wanted to impress them," she countered, "Just talk to Sungchan, I beg. I don't want to watch you go through the whole will they-won't they song and dance of first year again. I gotta go to class, but text him now, yeah?"

You dumbly nodded at her instruction, watching her race out of the cafe and waving goodbye through the large window. Everyone always teased you about how much Sungchan seemed to like you. They never knew that you were equally as smitten.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You made it to the café before Sungchan. Unfortunately, that just gave you more time to panic and stress over what you were going to say to him after all this time. Your chocolate frappe and his iced americano sat in front of you, slowly melting in the unrelenting sun. You asked to meet at 1 and there was still 5 minutes 'til then, but Sungchan had the habit of being early. That was one thing he passed down to you.

"Y/N," Sungchan gave you a gentle smile as he slid into the seat across you. It was hard to meet his eye, but you held eye contact for as long as you could (not very long) before you tore your eyes away and slid his drink over to him. He thanked you sincerely and took a sip, giving you the chance to speak first.

"Thanks for meeting me, Sungchan," you began nervously, "I know it's been, um, confusing recently- at least for me. I just wanted to catch up and see where we are or get some closure, I guess. I feel like you deserve more of an explanation than what I was able to give you."

In an instant, you're transported back to one week before your flight to New York in the comfort of his bed. You had tearfully explained how hard you thought it was going to be to do long distance even when you had spent a better part of the situationship deluding yourself and each other that it would work out not matter what.

You don't think you could ever forget the look of heartbreak plastered on his face as you spilled your worries to him that night. You don't think you'd ever forgive yourself for making his body shake with sobs, pleading you to think about it again.

That's why it's hard to face him right now- because of all the shame and guilt.

"To be honest, Y/N, you told me before we got involved that you were doing your year abroad and that you didn't think it would be in the best interest of either of us to be in a new relationship by the time you left," Sungchan hummed, swirling his straw in the ice of his drink.

Suddenly, it's a year and a half earlier in your head as you and Sungchan celebrated and 'not really 1 year anniversary' because you two refused to label yourselves as a couple despite functioning identically to one. You remembered the cake, the flowers, the candles that you blew out together.

"I feel like I led you on," you admitted.

"Maybe," he shrugged, "I don't feel that way. You didn't want to get into a relationship, but I kept pursuing you anyway until you fell in- until you liked me," he coughed.

Your demeanour softened as the words slip from his mouth. When Sungchan tried to utter those three words to you at the airport for the first time and you stopped him before you could, you instantly knew you were making a mistake. But by the time you had gotten through security and settled yourself at your gate, you had manipulated yourself to think otherwise.

"Stop being so nice about it, Sungchan. I did you so wrong," you frowned deeply at him, picking at your nails in nerves. Your heart and stomach honestly ached in displeasure every time you thought about what happened.

"We made choices, and I guess we're better people now for it," Sungchan returned a tight-lipped smile, turning his head to stare out of the window and into the street.

When you left, Sungchan was shy and awkward with his limbs flying all over the place and never seeming like he had control over them. His hair fell around his eyes in an adorable cut and it would take him a while to muster up the courage to look anyone in the eye. That wasn't to say he wasn't a friendly and amazing guy- just one that had to warm up to you.

The Sungchan you returned to walked with confidence and seemed like he was now sure of himself. He kept his head up, initiated conversations with people and just moved through life more freely. You can't help but think that you were the one thing holding him back.

You didn't know what to reply with. Were you really better off? You had spent the past year trying to enjoy your life abroad, but grovelling with guilt for the life back home that you left.

Before you can open your mouth, someone beats you to it.

"Channie?"

The affectionate nickname falling from another person's mouth instantly conjures a bitter taste in your mouth. Your heads snap towards the guest standing at the edge of the table, smiling down at the man in front of you.

"Ah, I knew it was you," she beamed brightly, "Haven't had the chance to talk to you- how was your summer?"

Sungchan's eyes flickered to you so quick that you almost didn't catch it. You could tell he was hesitant in his reply, "It was good, Jiyoon. How was yours?"

She clapped her hands a little and nearly let out a squeal, "Awesome! Went to that mountain you recommended climbing! You're playing at the game tomorrow, right?"

Game? Oh, he was still on the soccer team, of course.

"Yeah," his grin was lopsided and awkward as he turned to you, "Um, Jiyoon, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jiyoon. We met in class last year."

"Nice to meet you," she extended a hand down to you, which you reluctantly shook with a terse smile. You could practically feel the uncertainty and jealousy bubbling in the pits of your stomach as she continued, "Me and Channie were seat mates in our lectures last year! It's such a shame we don't share any this year."

The feeling is so unfamiliar that it makes you uncomfortable seeing the way she grinned and looked at him. He used to look at you like that too- the longing and the pining in the gaze when you wouldn't give into him. It was clear they weren't dating, but it felt like there was something more.

"Nice to meet you too," you clutched your drink tight in your hand as you picked up your bag, "I actually have to run somewhere so why don't you take a seat and catch up? Seems like it's due. Bye Sungchan."

In your rush away from the table, Sungchan caught your wrist again, "Y/N, don't-"

Once again, you'll never forget the face of heartbreak written all over his face as you pulled your wrist away with a sigh, "Thanks for speaking to me, Sungchan. Good luck for tomorrow."

You don't dare look back as the bubbly Jiyoon slid into the chair you were once occupying.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Minjeong has her arms crossed in your doorway with a pointed look directed at you.

"Why aren't you ready?" she squinted her eyes menacingly at your slumbering position on the bed, "We're going to be late! You're lucky I asked Sunghoon to save us two seats."

You pulled the covers over your head, "I'm not going. Leave without me."

The little pitter-patter of her footsteps on your hardwood floors echoes before she ripped the sheets away from you, "And why is that?"

You made grabby-hands at the duvet, but she tossed it behind her. You gave her your best innocent look and produced a cough, "I'm sick?"

Minjeong scoffed loudly and tugged on your arm, "I'm not taking no for an answer, missy. This is your final first game of the season! And we're playing our rival team, so show some school spirit."

"But 'Jeong," you whined in protest as she threw open your wardrobe and began to search for your school merch.

"You don't have to see him if you don't want to," she sighed empathetically, "We'll run away as soon as it's done, but you loved school football games, right?"

It's about the time you realised that Minjeong wasn't going to let up on her insisting, so you slipped on the crop top and jacket with your school's logos and shimmied into the skirt she was making you wear, despite the temperature outside. Arm in arm, but in measured silence, the two of you fast-walked to the football arena that was only 15 minutes from your house. Thankfully the game hadn't yet started when you two clambered into the seats between Sunghoon, Heeseung's friend, and Anton.

"It's nice to see you again, Y/N!" Sunghoon grinned, taking you into a hug, "Did you miss Korea while you were gone?"

"Of course, but it was nice to experience a new culture for a bit," you replied, trying your hardest to keep your eyes off the pitch where the teams were getting into their positions, "How's the skating?"

"I won college nationals this year," he said proudly, to which you clapped and congratulated him. He was truly one of the school's pride and joy, but he didn't want to take it any further than collegiate sport, "Anyway, are you going to the after-party later? It's at the Rho Zeta house."

Minjeong's face planted into your right shoulder, "We are!"

"Jeong! You said we're leaving straight after the game!" you protested, turning your body to face her's.

"Yeah, to the party," she cackled, slapping an arm around her cousin's shoulders, "Tell her, Chanyoung. We're going to the party, right?"

His eyes suddenly turned pleading and you knew you were doomed for, "C'mon, Y/N! It's the first party of the year win or lose so you have to come."

Sunghoon looked at you with expectant eyes too and you honestly believed they were about three seconds away from begging on their knees when you rolled your eyes and dismissed them. Minjeong took this as a win and began to cheer, while also redirecting your attention back to the game in front of you.

When you were dating/not-dating, you used to come to every one of Sungchan's games wearing his jersey rain or shine. That's how you gained the status of being one of the most notorious couples in the grade. You didn't know why, but you were glad to see that no other girl was sporting his name and number on their back from what you could see. They weren't a famous team; they didn't sell jerseys with the players' names in the school store, so you were a little bit relieved to realise Sungchan wasn't giving out his jerseys to girls left, right and centre in your absence.

What was evident though, was the rambunctious screaming every time the ball fell at his feet. He was one of the team's star players along with Heeseung and Lee Minho, so you weren't surprised. However, the cheering had definitely stepped up a notch ever since he checked himself into the gym while you were gone.

The game passed by pretty quickly. Both defences were very good, so there weren't many goals scored. Heeseung had scored two both assisted by Sungchan and the other team had done the same. Though the game ended in a eventful tie, the crowd was still buzzing with pride and school spirit. Through the streets around the arena and the campus, you could hear them chanting some school songs.

"Are we meeting Heeseung there?" you asked Minjeong curiously as you walked together towards Greek row. Sunghoon had disappeared after the win to find some of his friends before the party, meanwhile Chanyoung was whisked away by Seunghan into the crowd

"Yeah, they'll be a while before they get to the house, I think. I know I was heavy persuading you earlier, but you're actually fine with coming to the party, right? You can tell me if not," her eyebrows are stitched together in worry, but you just link arms again and continued walking.

"It'll be nice to go out and do my normal things," you reassured her.

The Rho Zeta house was one that was very familiar to you. It was a house you had spent many a nights in during your second year when Sungchan lived at his frat house. You wondered if he stayed there or moved out with his friends.

There's some rushing freshmen on the door duty and you were let in swiftly when Minjeong uttered your names. Though Heeseung was a member of a different fraternity, the friends and partners of the football team were always invited to the post-game ragers. Making your way down to the basement where most people chose to spend their time, you waved to Eunseok in the kitchen making cocktails.

A fair few spectators had already made it to the party after the game finished, knocking back their third, fourth or fifth beer or beverage of choice already. When Wonbin pressed a shot into your hand and clinked it with the one in his, you had no choice but to chug it down with a grimace. Before you knew it, Eunseok was tipping back a cup of mojito down your throat and you and Minjeong were doing shots of tequila with your arms intertwined.

The Rho Zeta basement was expansive, but very busy. There were people playing beer pong in one corner (Sohee was losing badly to a grinning Anton) meanwhile sober monitor Shotaro was trying to pry the darts out of a drunk Seunghan's grip before he could try to throw them and potentially hurt someone. You swore that they kept those locked away in a cabinet during parties, but Seunghan was always a crafty guy.

Endless bodies swayed in the gaps of the basement to the rhythm of the music- the music being the mixes that Nu Sigma Tau alumni Johnny Suh was producing from his speakers in the far corner. He was truly a man stuck in his college days, but he always provided the best tunes. You had lost track of time early into the night before losing track of Minjeong completely when the football team arrived. You hid behind Johnny's equipment, making small (loud) talk with him about what he had been getting up to. In the corner of your eye, you had spotted Sungchan hovering in the crowds since he was probably a whole head taller than most of the attendees.

"I heard what happened to you and our bambi over there," Johnny uttered nonchalantly as he prodded at some buttons that you could never grasp the use of, "How's that working out?"

"It's the consequences of my own actions," you hummed sadly, "I've never regretted anything more."

"Does he know that?"

You flick your glance to the guy chatting with his best friend Eunseok by the wall, "I think I owe it to him to let him move on. There's so many girls interested in him since I left."

"And clearly he rejected all those girls if he came alone. I'm banishing you from my booth, so go talk to him." Johnny cooed at you before pushing you lightly away and into the crowd with a wave.

After the fiasco that was the café and Jiyoon, you certainly weren't prepared to face Sungchan. What could you even say to him? That you were burning with jealousy that you couldn't help but run away?

Yizhuo and Giselle occupied your time for a little bit on the couches, but once the smell of sweaty party goers began to invade your senses even while getting progressively drunker, you dashed/stumbled up to the second floor living room that was always much more chilled out.

"Y/N!" Soobin cried out excitedly as you entered the large room. He was already reaching over to offer you a beer, which you took. Behind Soobin's tall stature, you don't even notice the people sat in a circle behind him, "We're playing truth or dare."

Soobin was one of your friends you made in a club you joined in your freshman year. You didn't speak to him very much over text, but the two of you always had a good time when seeing each other. He wrapped his large hand around your wrist and dragged you over to sit in the circle. You recognised a few familiar faces as you cast your eyes around, namely Karina and some of Heeseung's friends, but your heart dropped when you saw Sungchan and Jiyoon sat cross-legged next to each other a few spaces to right of Soobin.

Even in your state, you weren't so much of a masochist to stay and watch. Leaning over to Soobin's ear, you whispered, "Shit Bin, I think I'm gonna sit this one out."

"No," he whined like a baby, "I haven't seen you in a year, so stay!"

His protest was so loud that it called the attention of some of your other friends who all drunkenly pouted and pleaded for you to stay. Some guy who you recognised as Sunwoo reached over the space in the middle and spun the bottle. You kept your eyes trained on it as spun around and around, praying it wouldn't land on you. A sigh of relief left your mouth as it fell on Chaerin, who quickly chose dare.

"Text your most recent ex and tell them that you miss them!" Sunwoo giggled through his drink.

As you nursed your own drink, you mirrored Chaerin's grimace and fought all your might to avoid looking at Sungchan. You would be horrified to have received that. Chaerin gingerly pulled out her phone and typed a few words before flashing her screen around the circle as proof. She then grabbed the bottle and spun it harshly.

"Jiwoo, truth or dare?" Chaerin taunted. Your eyes flashed to her figure momentarily as she giggled and chose dare as well.

"Kiss the person you'd most want to date."

You don't think you've ever felt such burning sadness as you watched Jiwoo quickly grab Sungchan's face and bring it down to hers for a quick peck. The grip on your bottle was nearly enough to smash the glass into a million pieces the way your heart was breaking.

It took everything in you not to get up and run away, especially when the alcohol in your bloodstream was making you feel your emotions ten times as strong. You couldn't make it about you- Sungchan didn't deserve that. The rest of the group's eyes had already turned to you after Jiwoo's kiss, considering that you and Sungchan never really kept it much of a secret. Even Karina was making 'are you okay?' eyes at you from across the circle. You simply gave her a subtle nod and a smile as Jiwoo spun the bottle too.

"You and Sungchan aren't back together?" Soobin dropped his face low to your ear.

"Does it look like we are, Soob?" you exhaled, watching Nayoung give Jay a drunk and joking lap dance.

"Shit," he breathed out under his breath, "Sorry I made you stay."

"It's okay. I should move on anyway, right?" you smiled assuringly at him. You don't think you've ever given such a fake smile in your life.

"Y/N," Soobin trailed off, trying to pry the bottle that you were sipping on away from your hands, "Should we go?"

"No, it's fine," you gritted out, pointing at the bottle spinning to direct his attention. Your heart dropped as it landed on you.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Jay mumbled.

You weren't going to risk it; Jay was known for giving batshit ideas, so you settled on, "Truth."

"How many people did you sleep with or kiss on your year abroad?" he smirked.

"Zero," you deadpanned instantly, "For both."

Jay pouted at your boring answer, but gestured for you to choose the next person. It landed on Yuri, who chose dare bravely. You were starting to dissociate a little, but managed to murmur some dare about giving her phone to Sunghoon and letting him post whatever on her story.

The game continued a while with you trying to focus as much as possible at burning a hole through the glass of your drink with Soobin asking you if you were okay every couple of minutes. It was hard not to turn your head and steal glances at Sungchan and Jiwoo, whose laugh reverberated through the room, your bones and then into your heart.

You were certain Jiwoo was a nice girl, but where did she come from? All your friends convinced you that Sungchan hadn't entertained anyone despite the newfound attention that you leaving brought to him and even his friends never mentioned anything when they would occasionally talk to you. Surely Jiwoo and Sungchan were close, right? Close enough for them to be recommending each other things to do in the summer and close enough for Jiwoo to quite literally kiss him in front of everyone.

"Sungchan, truth or dare?" an unfamiliar voice caused your head to slowly lift up.

"Dare," it's the first time you've heard his voice the whole game.

"Kiss the person you'd want to date in this room."

A light gasp escaped nearly everyone's lips as you examined the smirking player. You definitely didn't recognise him; maybe he was a freshman. His eyes were darting with a cheeky glint between Sungchan and Jiwoo, assuming that he was setting up a couple by echoing Chaerin's earlier dare for him.

"Taesan, choose a different dare," Karina's voice boomed as she directed laser eyes towards the boy. He instantly frowned.

"Why? It's fun!"

"Choose a different dare," Soobin repeated next to you.

In that moment, you wanted the world to just cave in and swallow you up whole. You didn't think that you could bare to watch your ex-boyfriend- the one who held your heart but the one whose heart you stomped all over- kiss another girl in a confession. Despite that, you were completely paralysed in your spot, cross legged and head having turned to Sungchan's direction.

At the same time that Karina began to get up and say, "Y/N, let's go downstairs,", Sungchan had pushed himself out of his seat under the watchful eyes of Jiwoo.

"Fuck it," he had laughed dryly.

Your vision changed in a moment's notice. Sungchan was staring straight into your eyes bearing the emotions of pleading. Pleading to ask you if what he was about to do was okay.

You think that you probably nodded unconsciously, because in an instant, Sungchan's plump lips found yours again for the first time in a year. They slotted perfectly in between your hesitant mouth, but like a reflex, your brain had finally connected to your body again and started moving against him.

Similar to the earlier gasps from all those who had known about your history together, the whole group had gasped and fell silent as they watched the scene unfold.

The kiss was not gentle at all. He moved against you harshly, desperately and his hands on your cheeks burned your skin, lighting a thousand flames inside you. Sungchan tasted a bit like the beer he was drinking, but also like the cherry lip balm that you had once bought for him and got him addicted to in the past. It caught you so off guard that you fell back onto your hands behind you, causing him to push deeper against you.

You were both panting when he finally pulled away.

"Y/N," he murmured lowly against your lips, "Let's go to my room."

You remembered getting up. You remembered his fingers interlacing between yours. You remembered practically running through the corridors to reach his familiar door at the end. You remembered Sungchan pressing you up against the wall inside his room and connecting his lips to your neck.

Then you don't remember anything after.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The next time your brain registers you're awake, there's a swirling in your stomach and something rising up your throat. In the lamp-lit glow of the seemingly strange room, you peeled the duvet off your sweating form and made a bee-line straight to the bathroom.

You didn't realise how you even knew there was a bathroom behind the door you had opened until a familiar hand was pulling your hair away from your face and rubbing your back as you emptied out the contents of your guts into the toilet.

"It's okay, baby," he cooed sweetly. The term of endearment flew over your head pretty much immediately, but your heart probably skipped a quick beat.

Tears brimmed at your lashes and threatened to spill as you hurled and hurled. How much had you had to drink?

"Sungchan?" you croaked out in between heaves.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here," he whispered into the dark, "You're in my room at the frat house."

Binge drinking wasn't a common reoccurrence of your freshman and sophomore days, but when you did, you always threw up in the middle of the night and became disorientated. You never knew where you were and how you got there.

When you finally finished throwing up, Sungchan had already tied your hair back with a tie he found on your wrist and had pulled you up against his body in the bathroom. With the lamp in his room on and the door open, you could make out his sleepy figure and messy hair in the mirror.

"Here, wash your face and brush your teeth," the toothbrush he handed you was old, but you recognised it as the one you kept in his room for the nights you would sleep over. Despite the banging headache and the questions floating around in your head, you managed to follow his instructions. There was no makeup left on your face from what you could tell, so someone must have taken a wipe to your face. You just splashed some water to refresh yourself and brushed your teeth to get the nasty taste out of your mouth.

Looking down, you were still in the skirt and college top from the party, but your socks and shoes had been replaced with fluffy socks that you loved to sleep in and all of your jewellery removed. Sungchan was waiting at the edge of his bed, eyes only half opened until you stepped back into the room again.

It looked the same as when you left, with a few pictures of you together removed in places. There were some weights in the corner too, but otherwise, it was a picture perfect reflection of before, as if time never passed.

"What happened? What am I doing here?" your throat burned from all the heaving you had been doing, but Sungchan passed you a water bottle and a pill, "All I remember was the game and you kissing me."

"We went to my room, but you passed out pretty quick," Sungchan recounted, "Sorry I kissed you. I slept on the floor, by the way."

You noticed the pillow and blanket missing from the bed. From the digital clock on Sungchan's desk, you could see it was still only 4am.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I'll catch a taxi home now," you looked around the room for your shoes, "Sorry for the vomit and stuff."

Sungchan rose to his feet, "Y/N, just stay. It's dangerous for you to leave at this time and you need to rest. It's okay. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep in Eunseok's room."

Although your brain was blaring alarm signals in your mind and telling you to get out of there before anything else tragic could happen, your heart belonged to the bed that you missed sharing with him.

You sighed heavily and crawled back under the covers. With your eyes closed, you bared your true feelings into the silent room, "Please stay."

"Okay," he hummed, walking over to the other side of the bed where you assumed that he set up the pillow and blanket.

"Can you sleep with me? On the bed?" your voice was so quiet and hesitant despite your state that Sungchan didn't know if he just conjured that in his imagination until you spoke again, "Please?"

You shuffled over closer to your side of the bed closer to the door. He slid in on his side, closer to the window. Your head was spinning even lying down and you could feel yourself slipping out of consciousness already as his body heat combined with yours to wrap you up in a comfortable and familiar sensation.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm lying. I'm not sorry I kissed you. I'm sorry that you had to see her kiss me though."

"Why?"

"I'd never want you to think that I want anyone else other than you."

Your awareness faded into nothingness as you felt Sungchan's hands slip in between yours under the sheets.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"Y/N? What the fuck happened last night? Karina texted me and said some shit went down upstairs and you disappeared with Sungchan?" Minjeong's voice was laced with worry as she rushed to the door the second you stepped through.

Although she looked as haggard as you, she was much more preoccupied about where you went after she handed you your 3rd mojito of the night. You winced at her volume, "My head hurts like shit, Jeong. And my heart too."

"Jay told me what happened. Are you okay?" Heeseung's voice was quieter as you entered the open plan living space. He was sat on your couch with a bowl of cereal in the space between his crossed legs and Minjeong's iPad playing some TV show on the coffee table.

"Y/N? Hello?" Minjeong waved in your face.

"I don't want to talk about it, guys," you groaned, "Some girl kissed him. He kissed me. We went to his room. I passed out immediately and woke up throwing up. That's all."

"You didn't talk? Not this morning?" she prodded on.

It was only 11am. Your face involuntary cringed with regret.

Minjeong gasped dramatically, "Y/N, if you tell me right now that you left before he even woke up, I'm literally going to kill you. Y/N, that's such shitty behaviour. Honestly."

"Please don't make me feel worse than I already do," you sniffled as her words brought tears to your eyes, "I literally don't know what to do. All I want to do is let him go for his sake, but he keeps dragging me back to him."

She wrapped you up in a tight hug and smoothed out your hair, "Y/N, just go back to his room and tell him how you feel. Let him tell you how he feels too. You're going to keep going around in circles if you keep running from him, and it's going to end in heartbreak again."

You cried into her shoulders for a few minutes in sheer frustration, until she pushed you out of the door and made Heeseung drive you mid-bowl of cereal to the frat house to make sure you actually went inside.

On your grand exit out of the house that you prayed would go unnoticed, you had ran into Shotaro in the living room cleaning. He had given you a disappointed look, but your pleading eyes convinced him not to say anything as you slipped out of the door shortly after waking up. The expression on your face must have told him that you were sneaking away from his best friend.

It was Shotaro who opened the door for you when you knocked just 20 minutes after you left.

"You came to your senses?" Shotaro quirked an eyebrow at you as he stepped aside to let you in. You waved goodbye to Heeseung as he drove back in the direction he came in.

"I'm sorry, Taro."

"I'm not the one you should be saying that to," he sighed defeatedly, "Please don't hurt him again, Y/N. I love you both, but please."

All you could give him was a faltering smile as you ascended up to the second floor again. There were still some cups and miscellaneous items left strewn around the house, so you assumed that the frat brothers were mostly still asleep.

You tiptoed up to Sungchan's room and knocked three times, lightly, before pushing the door open. He was still curled up tightly on his side of the bed, cuddling a stuffed bear that you got him. It was exactly how you found him when you woke up again in the morning.

His face was so peaceful and angelic when he slept, soft snores escaping between his parted lips. In the past, you used to wake him up by peppering kisses on his smooth skin until he woke up. He used to wake up confused, until a smile would invade his face when he realised you were there. It used to make your heart feel all tight and warm in the best way possible.

Your breath hitched when Sungchan stirred to face his body towards you. Though his eyes stayed close, his breathing became noticeably shallower.

"You left," his voice was mercifully devoid of accusation, but it made your heart split down the middle all the same.

"I'm so sorry," it was pathetic, but that was all you could bring yourself to say.

Unwrapping his arm out from the tangle with his stuffed plushie, he patted the empty space on the bed that was still a bit warm. The weight of your body dropping onto the bed caused him to scooch a bit closer to you with his eyes still firmly closed.

"Can we just stop being sorry now? You're back now with no plans to leave again, so why do you keep running away from me?"

"Sungchan," you breathed out his name, but he opened his mouth again.

"I'll prove to you that all I want is still you. There's no one else, Y/N. You hurt me a lot, but I know you didn't want to. Let's give it another go. Do it properly and call each other boyfriend and girlfriend," his lips tugged up into a soft smile.

You didn't even know when you started crying but at the sound of your sniffle, his hands came up to wipe at your cheeks.

"Why are you crying?"

"What did I do to deserve someone like you? You deserve someone better," you choked out through your hot tears.

He let out a soft laugh as his eyes finally opened slowly and met yours, "Stop asking questions and saying sorry and just accept that I want to love you, Y/N."

His words triggered a waterfall of tears to stream down your face, but he pulled you down into the bed with him and wrapped you up in his arms tightly. It felt like home again.

"I loved you, Sungchan. I did."

He brushed the hair out of your face and planted a searing kiss on your temple, "I know, Y/N. I knew. Stop crying and go back to sleep with me. It'll all be okay when we wake up. I promise, baby."

He tucked his bear into your grasp and pulled the sheets over your bodies again. His arms returned around you and he continued to press the most gentle touches of his lips on your forehead, your temples, your nose and finally onto your lips that held back choked sobs until you slipped out of consciousness.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"I wanna know everything you did in New York," Sungchan requested softly as he swung next to you. On the walk to your apartment from his that he accompanied you on after you both woke up, you spotted the playground equidistant between both residences empty. The two of you had spent a few nights there in the past swinging beside each other and talking, so it seemed perfect to go there again to talk- somewhere public and open.

You texted Minjeong that you were on the way back to your flat to change and freshen up and she kindly left with Heeseung as to not make the situation any more awkward or tense by having them meet in such a circumstance. Sungchan just sprawled in your bed and scrolled on his phone as you showered, changed and applied your skincare. After a night of drinking, throwing up and not moisturising after washing your face in the middle of the night, your skin had been going through it. When you plugged in your hairdryer and made him scooch over silently so you could sit on the bed, Sungchan had sat up and taken the dryer out of your grasp, motioning for you to turn around.

"Someone's watched Queen of Tears," you humoured over at him as the humming and heat began to fill the room.

"Just like the entire country," he jested back, "I guess we're a bit like them."

"Chaebols who get married and hate each other until one of them gets a seemingly incurable illness?" through the mirror at the end of your bed, you saw Sungchan roll his eyes playfully.

"Two people that find their way back to each other," he had corrected softly.

His words struck you silent, just watching him direct the dryer at your hair while thoughts swarmed in your head. You weren't sure if your neck was burning up from the dryer or from his fingers bumping against your skin every so often.

Since the two of you woke up, you could probably count on your hands how many times you'd spoken. You'd settled into this comfortable, but weighted silence knowing that sooner or later you'd probably have to properly talk to navigate the events of the night prior. You had delayed it a bit by asking to go home and change and he walked you all the way wordlessly other than suggesting to go to the park after.

When you were done getting ready, the two of you made your way to the park. This time, Sungchan had grabbed your hand firmly in his at the very first instance of your skin brushing. He was much more bold than when you had left.

"What do you want to know?" you quirked an eyebrow as he kicked off the ground to swing higher.

"If it was everything you dreamed of. If you missed home. If you made friends," he listed out, looking over at you.

You sighed and thought back. Over the past few weeks since you'd been back, everyone had asked you the same questions. For the most part, you had given the same answer to all of them robotically, but you felt like Sungchan deserved a bit more than your usual spiel.

"The city was incredible. New York was always my dream. I got to travel a little around the country too, so that was nice. It got really lonely pretty quickly, even though I made a lot of friends. It's just so busy and everyone has their own thing," you recounted slowly, "I missed home as soon as I left, but I do miss the friends I made in New York. America is very different to Seoul though."

"Did you mean what you said at the party? There was no one else?" his voice was shaky as he asked. You knew it wasn't something he took lightly.

"I wouldn't lie to you," you affirmed strongly, "I really did miss you and regretted everything the second I left. I was too ashamed to admit my mistake, so I'm sorry for hurting you unnecessarily. I don't regret going to New York, but I regret leaving you."

He stops the swing by planting his feet firmly. His eyes bore into yours as he tried to analyse your emotions.

"I grew a lot in that year apart, so I guess I should thank you for that. I learned that I should fight for what I want and I think we can be better this time around," Sungchan nodded, "And I missed you a lot. I keep saying it, but I just want you to know I never hated you or thought of you in anger while you were away."

The silence that followed must have freaked him out a little because he quickly continued.

"And about Jiyoon. Just, um, ignore her, please. I never knew she felt that way and I promise that I never acted in a way that might have conveyed that I felt the same," Sungchan blurted out with wide eyes, "I just- didn't know how to bring you up to her. We honestly didn't see each other very much; she just exaggerated."

You giggled a little at his panic and reached over the iron links to take his hand, "I trust you, Sungchan. You were free to do anything you wanted, but still, I trust you. You're allowed to have friends."

With a squeeze of his hand, Sungchan stood up and loomed over you on your swing. He tugged softly to get you up on your feet and clasped his hands around your waist when you did. Sungchan pulled you close to him, chest to chest.

Gasping, you looked around to make sure the playground was still empty, "Sungchan!"

He nuzzled his face down, close against yours with your foreheads pressed together, "You're all I could ever want. Please don't leave me again."

Your body completely melted into his as you brought your cold hands up to his warm cheeks. Bravely, you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely missing his lips, "I won't, Channie."

"Is it too fast to tell you I love you? I've been waiting to say it for over a year," Sungchan pulled his head back and scrunched his face up, "Does that make me too much of a loser? Being this down bad for you?"

All the tension and stress left your body; you could finally return to normal and joke with Sungchan as you giggled into his neck, "Maybe. Do you not want to be?"

"No, I love you," he chuckled along, grazing his nose against yours again before pressing his warm lips on yours.

His lips were pillowy, parting your lips and allowing him to push deeper. He was much more gentle this time than the night before, but a squeeze on your waist caused your breath to hitch and allowed him to run tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel the outpour of emotions in his kiss and how desperate he was to let you know them.

In the year without Sungchan, your heart grew fonder and fonder and you thought to yourself how you were never going to waste another minute with him.

Sungchan had been the first to pull away, looking down at you with half-lidded, passion-filled eyes, "Let's go back before some family comes and reports us to the police."

"Ha, for doing what?" you teased, hooking your fingers around his belt loops.

His eyes transformed into a glare as he stepped away from you and moved towards the exit, "Very funny, Y/N. Yours or mine?"

"Mine," you shrugged, "Minjeong's out with Heeseung and your frat brothers are all home and hungover."

Sungchan just grinned at you, swinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight to his body, "I can't wait to tell everyone you're mine again."

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The last game of the season was the national finals. You had been nervous all week watching Sungchan leave every day for extra practice when he usually only trained once a week with the team.

With a cup of cola in one hand and a cardboard sign in the other, you fought through the crowd on the bleachers to find the available seat between some of your friends. Minjeong was already settled in her seat, scolding Seunghan and Sohee for playing with her I <3 Heeseung homemade headband.

"You made it!" Chanyoung clapped happily as you sat between him and his older cousin. On the other side of him, the rest of the boys waved at you excitedly.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, of course!" you beamed. The whole arena was vibrating with excitement as nearly the whole student population turned up for the game. It was the final big event in the school calendar before the stress of final exams took over, so everyone was letting their hair down a little.

There was a section of supporters of the other team tucked away in the corner, but otherwise the people meshed together in a sea of your school colours. They had won the draw as to which school the game would be played at. You yourself was sporting a jersey nearly identical to the one that Sungchan would be coming out in soon. The shirt on his back fit his frame nicely, but it draped over you like a dress.

"Channie's gonna play good tonight because his lucky charm's here," Wonbin snorted teasingly, "He was shit all of last season."

"Wonbin," Eunseok hissed, but you just laughed with the long-haired boy.

"I'm really excited. I know they'll win." you waved the "GO #23" sign towards them.

You watched the field in anticipation as they ran out to erupting cheers from the supporters and watched as Sungchan searched the crowds for his group of friends as soon as they settled in a line. He waved in a small gesture, but all of you stood up and flailed your hands everywhere. You shook the sign vigorously and watched as his face contorted in awe and appreciation.

The game was absolutely nerve wracking. Your arms were interlocked and clutched tightly with Minjeong's and the two of you moved like one being standing up to shout at bad referee decisions or cheer at good tackles. Heeseung and Sungchan were playing well up front together, dominating the field so far with a few decent shots on target. Being the most dangerous on the field, the other team's defence were taking them on left, right and centre, causing your faces to be stuck in a permanent grimace for the first half.

Seunghan tried to start a cheer at half-time and that provided enough entertainment for your group when it miserably failed to notice the passage of time. In fresh shirts and refreshed motivation, your team went all out and scored 2 goals. Heeseung's celebrations towards Minjeong were sweet and had her swooning with flushed cheeks.

The other team had managed to score a goal, but in the 87th minute, Sungchan had broken away from his marker around the halfway line and poured all of his might into completing his run to the goal. The goalkeeper had a lot of time to anticipate Sungchan's goal, but his left foot was powerful enough to send the ball hurtling past the keeper's fingers and into the back of the net.

Screaming and yelling in joy, Sungchan slid in the direction of your friends and blew kisses in your direction. Beaming ear to ear, you deafened your friends with your ecstatic whoops. His teammates jumped on his body and then dragged him back to his position for the final 3 minutes.

Safe to say, they won the final.

After a celebration with medals, Prosecco and school cheers, you were waiting in the lobby just outside the changing rooms.

Sohee was talking your ear off about some game that he had started playing with Seunghan when a hand snaked around your waist and you felt the flutter of lips hovering over your neck.

"There's my girl. Hi, baby," he murmured against you. After sweating for 90 minutes, the boys definitely all had to take showers, so his hair was still slightly dripping over the jersey on your back.

"Channie, I'm so proud of you. Congratulations!" spinning around in his grip, you hooked your arms around his neck as he buried his head in yours.

"Your support meant everything to me. Thank you for the banner! I have the best girlfriend ever," he pulled back and beamed down at you, planting a peck on your expectant lips.

Despite having been officially his girlfriend for over 6 months now, the title still made your heart flutter to this day. You'd never forgive your past self from depriving yourself from having Sungchan as you had him now. Despite being the sweetest companion in your early university days, he had held himself back a little due to your hesitation.

Now that you were all in, Sungchan showered you with love, praise and support in anything you did. You tried your best to reciprocate and most days, it felt like your heart could explode every time you looked at him from how your love seemed to grow more and more every day.

He was the perfect gentleman and the perfect boyfriend. He brought you snacks whenever you had to stay late at the library and tucked you tight in his chest under the covers on the days that the world seemed to be collapsing - it never did, maybe thanks to him.

In short, adoring Sungchan became part of your daily routine. A task that you were happy to continue for the rest of your life.

"And I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world," you rested your cheek against his chest as you squeezed him tighter, "I love you, Sungchan."

His heartbeat thumped in your ear as he smoothed out your hair with his palm. The rhythm was strong and constant, as dependable as he was. You felt the love in his touch, no need for words.

Jung Sungchan was a man of his word. As long as you stayed by each other's side, everything would be okay. The world continues to spin. Your heart continues to beat for him.

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idlerin · 2 years ago

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NONSENSE

an oikawa tooru social media au

pairing. celebrity!oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

tags. social media au, celebrity smau, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, idiots in love, crack, humor (hopefully), fluff, and perhaps a little angst? ehe (groveling !!)

warnings. time stamps dont really matter unless i say so, cursing, some drinking alcohol n stuff and sometimes suggestive but nothing graphic

status. completed (01/15/23 - 02/11/24)

— playlist.

teasers

teaser 1 — teaser 1.5 — teaser 2

profiles

[name]’s pe(s)ts | in need of medical attention

episodes !

(⚘) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. rid me of my despair

02. murder is ethically wrong

03. he’s literally everywhere

04. i’m NOT petty (⚘)

05. i think i’ve seen this film before

06. he’s back !

07. baby girl of all baby girls

08. the famous friend

09. forget me not

10. why are you running!? (⚘)

ACT II

11. blast from the past

12. i despise you (⚘)

13. villains are hot (⚘)

14. adulting and other important stuff (⚘)

15. what we look forward to

16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

17. antithetical girlie

18. this is the tactic (⚘)

19. honey it hurts (⚘)

20. exes and ohs

21. takoyaki cravings

22. kill me with kindness

23. tell me, tell me (⚘)

24. do you think about me?

25. wish u were sober (⚘)

ACT III

26. you look like shit (⚘)

27. a taste of fame

28. reminds me of

29. helpless, breathless (⚘)

30. oh how you woo me

31. all over again

32. disconnected

33. this love is so illogical

34. don’t care if you ruin me (⚘)

35. hate clingy men

36. need you like oxygen (⚘)

37. media craze

38. hard to love (⚘)

39. coming home

40. only your love

EPILOGUE

41. new friends

42. love languages

43. utterly nonsensical

end

✦

bonus content

post break-up [name]

don’t you know that i’m intoxicated !

you said you liked the way i spoke

unsent letter #1

one of the boys

kuroo being a menace for 12 panels straight

kodzuken mayhem

taglist is CLOSED !

to be REMOVED from the taglist you can just send an ask or comment :)

notes. hey so i’m starting my first smau series?!!? *squeals and kicks feet in excitement* i hope i get to finish it lmao i plan to not make it that long prolly around only like 30 chaps! hope u’ll enjoy reading it as much as i’ll enjoy making it! also thank you everyone for 200 followers! i rlly appreciate it <3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

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hadesisqueer · 5 months ago

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I like how Violet is so used to having dramatic ass children that Francesca marrying with no drama was too odd to her lmao. And thinking about how her story will unfold is actually kinda hilarious because it's gonna be like:

Violet: Well, that's it. John is a very good man and Francesca is comfortable and happy with her choice and if this is what she truly wants, it's all that matters💜

Violet: Also, it's kinda refreshing to finally have a normal child that doesn't do any dramatic or scandalous shit.

Francesca a few seasons later after her husband passes: *fucks and falls in love with her husband's cousin -who is a woman-*

Violet:

Violet: Honestly, I should've seen this coming, none of my children will actually ever be normal.

#i would be so done with all of them tbh #daphne and her fake dating #anthony having an enemies to lovers with his fiancé's older sister which honestly so far takes the win as most dramatic and messy lmao #colin would be more normal if it weren't because of his history with marina which was scandalous #and because in his second engagement he literally ruined ANOTHER proposal first and hooked up in a carriage with pen ten minutes later #also he married lw so yeah #let's not even talk about benedict and his stories #and then you have francesca whose first chance is very normal and without drama and damn you think finally a normal bridgerton sibling #and it turns out she was saving all the drama and scandal shit for her second partner #because honestly her being queer and having a story with her late husband's female cousin might even beat kanthony's drama like lmao #bridgerton #violet bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #kanthony #michaela stirling #francesca x michaela

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maximoffsgirl · 17 days ago

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Bad Idea, Right?

summary: You haven't heard from her in a couple months, but one single phone call and you simply tripped and fell into her bed. You don't dare to tell anyone in who's sheets you are, but it was casual; can't two people reconnect? That might have been the biggest lie you've ever said.

warnings: Dom!Wanda, Top!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Bottom!Reader, D/s dynamics, Wanda is older than R (No specific age is mentioned), Wanda is referred to be taller than R (no specific height), ex-lovers, second chance romance, nipple stimulation, hickies, fingering (R receiving), Objectification (R is called a 'fucktoy' once) , light choking, praise, degradation , please let me know if there's more

MEN AND MINORS DNI

author's note: English isn't my first language ;D and this is my first time writing smut, so please bear with me on both topics

words count: 6.924

not proofread!

listen to:

“Just turn it already!” you heard Kate’s yell, the sound echoing from what you assumed was the kitchen. You were barely paying attention, your legs lazily tangled around a plush pillow, body slumped back into the deep, inviting cushions of the comfortable couch that the Bishop's residence offered. It was a trap for the perfect slumber, one that you had fallen into many times.

Kate’s apartment had yet to disappoint when it came to comfort, a space that had been indirectly chosen as the go-to ‘stop’ for your group. Perhaps it was because you couldn’t remember actually sleeping after the drinks had already made themselves at home in your system, or maybe it was because the late-night conversations stretched on until dawn, coaxing your eyelids to close without a second thought.

But today, you were fucked up. It wasn’t merely your body that ached; it was the weight of the entire week pressing down on you, squeezing out any remnants of peace you might’ve found. And suddenly, nothing was working. The headache lingered stubbornly, a relentless throb that kept itself known even after the vodka mixed with passion fruit that sat half-finished on the coffee table. Somewhere between the walls, Kate, Yelena, and Peter were pouring drinks down their throats, their usual antics harmless—most of the time—and comfortingly familiar. Usually, you would be the one shaking their heads after each shot, attempting to intensify the warm feeling of the alcohol coursing through their veins. But tonight, you simply weren’t in the mood to join in.

You heard the third buzz of your phone somewhere between your legs, the pillow, and the couch, the possible content doing nothing to spark your curiosity. Lazily, you searched for your mobile, freezing instantly as the content finally revealed itself.

Upcoming call from Maximoff.

Your drunken instincts kicked in before you could fully process the situation; you quickly answered the call and adjusted your posture on the couch, a nervous habit you still hadn’t managed to shake off even after months apart.

“Y/N.”

You first heard a sigh, followed by your name, and suddenly, it felt strange, as if it wasn’t truly yours until she said it. Her voice was sharp, direct, and certain, just as it always was when she wanted something. You had to restrain yourself from sighing in response to her tone. Wanda had a knack for ensuring her undertone was unmistakable, her intentions loud and clear even through the silence that accompanied her words.

“Y/N?”

She repeated, this time as a question. No undertone, no sigh—just a hint of confusion that you could almost picture settling into her face, accompanied by that adorable frown and slight tilt of her head. The thought of it sent a wave of panic coursing through you, prompting you to abruptly end the call. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. Suddenly, your mind was inundated with a flurry of notifications. You contemplated various responses: “Hey Wanda,” “Hi Wanda,” “Sup,” mentally cursing yourself for the last one. You considered “What is it?”, “Are you okay?” ,“Fuck you.”, "Fuck me". But in the end, you settled for a simple “hi wanda,” knowing she hated whenever her name was written without capital letters.

You could feel your heartbeat on every inch of your body. Uncomfortably pulsing and almost burning as if to remind you of how much Wanda Maximoff still affected you - not that you needed one, her hold on you made itself known every night; when it was late enough to hear the breeze touching the tree leafs and you had your hand buried between your legs, your index finger drawing teasing circles on the wetness that you’ve found, and her name unconsciously escaping from your mouth.

The exchanged messages had you sighing, your mind trapped into a haze that, even from afar, Wanda knew exactly how to get you in; rather it was on purpose or not.

Throughout the months, your friends had been tortured by your thoughts. Your constant texts in the group chat, or never ending rants complaining about how much you missed your ex, had earned you a handful of complaints and curses enough to write a trilogy. They already knew by heart each and every protest you’d make about your past relationship. It was always about Wanda’s hugs, Wanda’s kiss, Wanda’s cooking, Wanda’s voice, Wanda’s hands, Wanda’s couch, Wanda’s - everything.. Kate wished out loud her desire to receive a nickel for every time she was obligated to hear that very same name, last name, and nickname come from your mouth.

The name, last name and nickname who was telling you to come over at that very moment. And yes, maybe you'd cursed every single member of her family over and over again, wished upon her future children an impossible ugliness —a thought you knew would never hold up, given that she looked like she’d been handpicked by God himself. But then again, by the time Wanda sended you a teasing picture, called you by a sweet pet name, and then topped it off with a simple, "I miss you" you did not have any power over your own being anymore.

Before you knew it, your phone was slipped into your small black purse, and you were making your way toward the inebriated group of friends. Kate, noticing the purse strap on your bare shoulder, looked at you with a drunk pout. “Where are you going?” she asked, her words slurring slightly as she grabbed your wrist.

“I’ve got a terrible migraine… thought I’d go home to rest a bit,” you replied, giving the girl a shy smile, trying your best to hide the real intentions behind that decision. Kate and the others launched into a half-hearted effort to convince you to stay, almost begging for you to spend a little more time with them and sleep at the Bishop’s residence. But their words barely registered. All you could hear was the soft echo of Wanda’s text—“make it 20” - you'd rather ignore the first part of the message for the sake of your underwear —burning insistently in your mind. With a quick kiss on each of their cheeks, you ducked out of their grasp and slipped out of the building, your steps quickening with each floor you passed.

You slid into the driver’s seat, pausing for a moment to consider what you were doing. Were you really wrecking all your plans with your best friends for that woman? yes. Was it honestly worth it to see Wanda after all these months apart? yes. Was it worth the actual migraine you’d probably end up with, giving in to something you already knew would end the same way? yes

Without reaching any real conclusions, your fingers moved on their own, starting the car's engine in one familiar motion. Wanda’s address blinked on the display—an unknown location, yet somehow instinctive. You didn’t think twice before following it, your heart pounding as you watched the traffic lights change colors.

You look at the building through your window. A what seemed to be a quiet place, with no more than four floors and a few balconies with flowers. You took a deep breath next, sending Wanda a text while waiting inside the comfort of your car.

With each step you took, your breathing grew heavier, almost labored, as if the weight of anticipation was the only thing your body could process. The strap of your bag, though light, now felt like it was searing into your skin, a reminder of what was waiting, or rather who was waiting for you. Your calves ached with each stride, an all-too-familiar burn that reminded you of the countless times Wanda had called you in the middle of the night, her voice always assertive with a sweet, demanding, urgent, undertone. Every nerve seemed attuned to the memory of those late-night rendezvous, your body tense with the knowledge of what lay ahead, and yet unable—unwilling—to stop.

And with a single turn, there she was. Her hair, now a rich, dark brunette - a contrast to the auburn color you’d always known - complimented her features like any other could, although, if you could be honest, you’d say that to any color on the rainbow’s entirety as long as it was on her. Her smirk, almost boor, sends shivers down your spine, reminding you of what you were getting yourself into with that simple look.

She stood there, her back casually pressed against the doorpost and body contoured by a single lay of fabric, a simple lace nightgown colored in a deep crimson tone, a piece of fabric that you had never seen before. It hugged all the curves of her body, leaving just enough to imagination but more than you could possibly handle right now. The image made a possessive, jealous, nature want to come out of your being. Although you did make yourself overcome the overwhelming urge to pull her into the room, out of any sight that was not your own; begrudge still lingered inside you, caused by her initiative of standing on the door like that, where anyone could see her wearing something so informal, so inviting.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing in front of her, your eyes locked in a silent exchange for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. The air was thick with mutual tension, an unspoken energy crackling between you. In a swift motion, Wanda reached out and grasped the strap of your bag that clung to your shoulder, pulling you effortlessly into the apartment. The door clicked shut behind you, your body now pressed against the cold surface, an intense contrast to the hot kisses that were now displayed on your neck and collarbone.

Wanda’s hands grabbed your purse, tossing it onto the familiar couch in the living room with a casual flick of her wrist. In an instant, her body was pressed against yours like second nature, a sense of urgency irradiating through both of your bodies. Her right hand now on your thigh, pushed you more against the door, her grip possessive as a growl left her lips at the outfit you chose.

“Why are you wearing pants?” She boldly complained. Saying it casually as if she had seen your face everyday for the past months. It was as if she hadn’t spent countless nights searching through her phone for memories of the two of you. If she were to count that, then she truly had seen your face every day, of every week, of every month you’ve been apart, but it’s not like she’d ever tell you that. So instead, Wanda pretended to act normal, a decision that made anger boil on your veins, but you opted on playing into her gaming, giving in to what she wanted.

“It’s cold, I was at Kate’s” it was a simple explanation, but one that Wanda was all too familiar with, so she just nodded her head along with your words. Her hands now climbing the curves of your body and resting on your neck, fingers applying enough pressure so you know it’s there, but not enough to make you moan and beg. And she knows that. Wanda knows that if she applies a little more pressure on her fingers, you’ll be whining unwittingly, the sweet sound escaping your lips even before you could think of it. But she’d rather wait. Taking in your soft features, the ones that she was too tired of seeing just through the confines of her phone screen; never being able to touch, just remembering like some kind of torture.

With a single finger, she tilted your jaw up to meet her eyes. A frown grew on your face once she just stared at you, you wondered what thoughts were swirling behind that penetrating stare; hoping it was the same as yours. No movement was made aside from the gentle caress of her thumb on your chin, tender like a feather but as vital as her stare. She moved impossibly closer and you envelope her waist in your arms in a familiar and intuitive action, hands moving below the delicate fabric of her nightgown, gently moving to the curve of her bum to caress her back tenderly.

Her thumb then moved to your bottom lip, tugging it down gently before pinching your chin, a teasing movement that made you smile, just like it always did. Likewise, a smile took control of her features before she gently bent down, meeting your already parted lips with hers.

Unlike you had thought, she kissed you slowly, tenderly, taking her time with your mouth as gently as she could, sliding her tongue through both of your lips, meeting yours with a small hum. Her breath mingled with yours, warm and inviting, filling you with a sense of belonging that had been missing for far too long. God, you've missed Wanda’s kiss

You tried to pull away, waiting to see her face, but she instantly pulled you back, murmuring a soft murmur of denial “Uh Uhm”. You had no recall if you spended the last seconds, minutes or hours kissing her like this, the next thing you noticed was the kiss turning even more heated with each passing seconds. Her lust showing not only on her lips but also in her hands, those that traveled relentlessly every inch of your body she could access.

Wanda tapped your thigh three times, quietly telling you to grab your legs around her. Which you gladly did, your arms now circling her shoulder the same way your legs tangled themselves around her midsection. She never once stopped kissing you, making her way through the unknown apartment to what you assumed - and not so secretly hoped - was her room.

Your assumption made itself true when she threw you in a soft bed, her hands quickly working to take off the pants she had complained about earlier, tossing them somewhere with a teasing smile. Her hands now turned to roughly grip your thighs, moving her body and fingers up towards you so that your back pressed against the headboard.

“Don’t ruin it” you murmured once Wanda’s hands settled on your collarbone, your shirt trapped in her palm as she held onto it until her knuckles turned white. You heard a huff pass through her natural red lips - a consequence of the immeasurable time you spent kissing her - as she took your shirt off gently, an intense contrast to her idea of just ripping it up.

Along with your bra, the rest of your clothes receive the same unknown destination of your pants with a casual toss. You pouted at her, hands on her waist to pull her closer in urgency, now hating the piece of fabric that made shivers run down your body when you first saw it, taking it only as an annoying, irritating, barrier between both of your heated bodies.

“Don’t be a brat, Y/N” Wanda murmured, a low familiar tone which made you whine, recognizing what that meant even after the time apart. Your answer came with a quick shake of head, a defiance in your glare as to show you weren’t agreeing with her on that; at least not after the torturous months where you had only your fingers and an old vibrator hidden in the last drawer of your bedside table.

She sighed, galled at your reaction. To prove you wrong, her hands quickly parted your legs, pressing her knee against your center. In mock, she imitated your reaction, her lips parting open together with yours, a smirk on her face as she looked at you in amusement. Asking, without words, how long would you keep up the act she already knew all the words too.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. Be a good girl, hm?" even if Wanda was asking, you knew better than to take that by anything other than a demand. So you weakly nod. Deciding on not fooling her, or you, anymore.

"Are you drunk?" she tenderly asks, her right hand angled perfectly on your breast as you felt the other pinning you down on the bed. You shook your head, the medium dose at Kate's house not being enough to inebriate you. Of alcohol? no. Of her? That's entirely different.

"Are you?" you asked, remembering vaguely of the bottle of liquor sitting lonely at her center table you've had a glimpse while she dragged you to the room. Wanda denied with her hand, pinching your already erect nipple. A moan emitted from deep inside you as she roughly played with the already sore protruding part.

"Always so sensitive" She murmured, bent down to whisper in your ear, placing a soft kiss on the side of your face. "Did you miss me too, Y/N?"

How could I not? The thought echoed in your mind, undeniable. But feeding her ego wasn't something you were looking for right now, her smirk already wide enough as it was.

She chuckled dryly, biting on your earlobe "Ah, ah... you know how this works, baby. Answer me" Wanda replied to your weak nod. Her hand on your waist now moving dangerously down, squeezing your inner thigh.

"Yes. Yes, Wanda. I've missed you too" came your response, as weak as your nod. The woman smiled, revelling on that pleasurable look on your face. Her hands playing with the waistband of your already drenched underwear. A whine escaped from your lips once she perfectly placed her thumb on your clit through the wet spot of the fabric, a hot tongue now circling your nipples, making you arch your hips towards her.

You were all too familiar with Wanda's teasing. The way her light fingers would run through every single corner of your body, never applying pressure on where you want, but enough to send shivers down your body. She took her time, wondering how long it would take until you were completely, broken, desperate. If you were familiar with her teasing, Wanda was familiar with your body, she knew every knot that made your eyes roll and legs twitch; she knew every word that would make your clit pulse just beneath her fingers.

“Still think this was a bad idea, Y/N?” she asked boldly, her voice low, taunting, with that teasing smirk that made you want to both kiss and slap her all at once. Not indulging her needs you nodded your head, your lips sealed, hiding the moan your body craved to let out.

Wanda chuckled, moving your panties to the side as her index finger ran across your folds. She smiles at the sharky breath you let out, always loving to prove you wrong. “Hm… is that so, baby? Then why is this pussy dripping wet for me?” Before you knew it, her finger was inside the confines of your mouth, making you suck your own arousal off of it. “Are you going to deny that as well?”

You knew Wanda well enough to know that she didn’t expect an answer, at least not with your tongue circling her finger. Her other hand quickly worked to rip your underwear; her finger, now wet from your mouth, circling your neck, applying the pressure you were searching for since she dragged you into the apartment. She wanted to hear your complaint about the destroyed fabric, one that came as soon as you heard the noise. The first one of your underwear being ripped and the second one caused by the pop of her finger once she forced your sucking to come to a stop. “Wanda!”

“If you’re going to complain I might have to stuff this pretty mouth with something other than my fingers” She challenged, as if you didn’t know this was exactly what she was looking for. “Is that what you want, Y/N?”

Wanda’s questions were all rhetoric, her teasing way of nudging you into that soft, hazy headspace she adored seeing you in. And, of course, you knew that, but you let her lead you there anyway. Revelling in the feeling just as much as she did. You felt the urge to respond, even if she wasn’t technically waiting for an answer. So you shook your head with conviction, your resolve melting under her gaze.

Wanda chuckled, spreading your legs as her fingers settled between them, one hand running through your folds, collecting the wetness at your entrance; and the other slowly circling your bundle of nerves, pinching it occasionally just so she could see you jump. You had no recall of the time she spent toying with your body, but her lips had a smile into it as her gaze burned on your pink folds, your wetness now on your inner thighs, almost reaching her white bed sheets.

“Wanda” You called her, your voice a bare whisper as you whined, back arching towards her along with your waist that tried to reach her fingers to somewhere else other than your clit. Her bedsheets clinged into your body, getting messier with each movement, mimicking your hair.

“Yes? What do you need, pretty girl?” Her words made you whine softly, your hands clutching at her nightgown with urgency. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, feeling the warmth of her presence before looking up at her with a pout, the need in your gaze unmistakable. Wanda smiled, bent down to whisper against your lips, her free hand tightening her grip around your neck. “Whiny, whiny girl… if I hadn’t missed you so much I would make you beg right now. Not tonight though”

At the relieved look on your face Wanda raised her eyebrow, her features unable to hide the amusement expression on her face. “Well, I won’t make you beg… but you’ve already forgotten your manners?”

“Please, Wanda… Please..please”

“Good girl”

You honestly couldn’t recall if you moaned due to her words or the two fingers finding their way inside your drenched cunt. But either way, your waist was moving desperately against her fingers as she curled them inside of you, finding that oh so sweet spot within seconds. She played with your clit with her free hand, not so gently toying with the already simulated bundle of nerves. Green orbs gently searched for all of your reactions, not daring to miss a single thing about your features, she has missed you enough to deprive herself from that by now.

“How many times did you touch yourself thinking about me, love?"

A lot, and you both knew that. You couldn’t point one single time where her eyes weren’t inside your head while your fingers were inside your pussy. You’ve tried to mimic her movements; tried to picture the words she used to tell you. And, if you were honest, you only had an orgasm on your own because at least three of your thoughts were about her. Nothing was more arousing than Wanda Maximoff. Although none of this escaped the confines of your head, it didn’t take a mind reader to know the reason behind your crimson cheeks and incessant whines.

“Poor baby… you’re so needy without me” - Her voice was sweet, sweet enough to be degrative as she looked at you. Eyebrows almost touching and lips pouting. A perfect look of faux sympathy.

By the time Wanda increased her speed, you were already a mess. Legs twitching, eyes rolling back, back arching forward and arms searching for her. Wanda thought she would cum just from the sight, your pretty body so vulnerable, looking for her in despair, practically begging for anything she could think of giving you.

“You’re so wet… I can feel you squeezing my fingers, my love. Tell me, did you miss being my little slut?”

You’ve missed Wanda’s voice. Was the first thing you thought when the words met your ears. The second was a moan. A loud, desperate moan at her words. Unfortunately for you, moans weren’t enough for Wanda’s hunger now. So when no reply came from you abused pink lips, Wanda made sure that other parts of your body were pink too. You swear you could cum right there once her palm roughly met your ass, and then your clitoris, and then your ass again. It’s not like you hadn’t been degraded, or praised, or spanked in this span of months. But how you’ve missed Wanda’s hands. After all, no one does it like a Maximoff.

“Yes! Yes, Wanda, Yes! I’ve missed being your little slut. Please” You begged - cried. Words falling off your mouth like dominoes.

People say that to be loved is to be heard, and Wanda absolutely loved hearing you. The soft pleas and breathy whispers slipping from your lips as she decided what to do with you were music to her ears, each sound a reminder of the hold she still had over you, the confidence you’ve had in her. Others may say that to be loved is to be seen, which she couldn’t agree more, remembering the soft mornings were your legs were tangled around hers, your stable breath against her neck as she watched you sleep peacefully, insistent locks of hair blocking her view from your whole face as she let out a huff and gently pushed them aside, trying to savor every detail of those quiet moments, even through her memories.

Whether love meant to be seen or heard, Wanda knew she would give every single sensation and feeling to you. She would See, Hear, Smell, Taste and especially Touch you for all her life. The intensity of her devotion now was almost laughable compared to her actions months ago. But she’d give every part of herself to you, even if that was one of the parts of her that she always kept hidden, specially from you.

As she looked at you, she noticed your breathing becoming more labored, a series of soft whines escaping your lips. Your hips moved instinctively, seeking out her fingers. The ones that were already pounding inside of you fast and rough.

“Oh. You’re gonna cum? I know baby.. I know”

Wanda cooed, bending down so that her lips were almost touching yours. As you tried to kiss her, you felt the air being blocked from your throat as her hand found home there once again. Her voice sweetly founding your ears as she displayed marks just below your earlobe.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Show how much you’ve missed being my fucktoy”

If your trembling legs weren’t enough a sign to show her that your orgasm was close, the sound coming from your lips mostly certainly got the job done. The feeling of her fingers trapped inside your stimulated walls and her sweet words on your eyes made you see stars even before you came undone beneath her.

“Oh.. Good girl. Uhum… just like that, honey”

Fortunately, or not, Wanda wouldn’t be stopping until your sixth orgasm under her tongue. Making you so overstimulated that just the bare feeling of her knee against your pussy had tears falling down on the side of your face.

Whether it was the exhaustion of your overworked body or the steady rhythm of Wanda’s heartbeat beneath your head, you couldn’t tell. But you’d never felt such peace in your life. The warmth of her body against yours and your legs so perfectly tangled together made you wonder how you’d ever managed to sleep without this.

When the rays of sun managed to overcome the dense curtain in the room, enlightening everything it reached, Wanda was already awake. Her fingers light, as to not wake you up, tracing your features softly. Wanting to crave in her mind how your cheeks felt so soft beneath her fingertips, how you hummed in your sleep and unconsciously searched for her waist, pressing your bodies even closer.

Wanda let out a soft, annoyed sigh as stray locks of your hair slipped across your face, obscuring her view. Carefully, she brushed them back behind your ear, her fingertips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. She gazed at you with a tenderness so raw that, had you been awake to see it, you might have buried your face against her collarbone, overcome with emotion.

Reluctantly, Wanda forced herself to slip out of the bed, carefully breaking free of your intense grip, prying your arms from around her with care. She paused for a moment, looking down at you, and then carefully pulled the covers up to shield your goose-pimpled skin. Satisfied that you were tucked in, she quietly made her way to the bathroom, the soft sound of her steps barely breaking the silence.

Maybe it was the soft hum of the shower, the sunlight streaming directly onto your face, or the subtle emptiness beside you that stirred you awake. Your eyes fluttered open, landing on the closed bathroom door. You sighed, small whines of complaint slipping out as you forced your sore body, scanning the room for something to wear as your own clothes were in some corner still to be found. Without a second thought, you padded over to Wanda’s closet, grabbing a pair of her cozy gray sweatpants. You slipped them on, feeling an instant relief as they shielded your bare legs from the chilly morning air—a warmth that, until now, had only been Wanda’s. Her hoodie was quickly on your body as you stretched yourself.

Blindly making your way to the living room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings; a cozy apartment when compared to the fancy uptown building Wanda used to call home back in your days together. our eyes quickly found your purse, discarded in the corner of the couch. You reached for it, quickly pulling out our phone that, to your surprise, still had battery, the screen lighting up with a soft glow.

Upcoming call from ‘Alcohoes’

You playfully rolled your eyes, You threw yourself onto the couch, the cushions welcoming your tired body - how you’ve missed Wanda’s couch - as you accepted the call from your friend group.

“Do you guys really have to friend-group call me?” You complained as soon as you got the call.

Wanda stepped out of the shower, her body now relaxed and enlaced around another nightgown. She frowned once she noticed you were nowhere inside her room, But her answer quickly came as she heard your voice coming from the living room.

Wanda stepped out of the shower, steam still lingering in the air as she wrapped herself in a fresh nightgown, the fabric clinging to her skin. She frowned when she noticed you weren’t in the room, unsuccessfully searching the room for any sight of you that were not your clothes discharged near her bedside table. A quiet frustration bubbled up inside her, but it didn’t take long for her to get an answer. Your voice floated in from the living room, carrying faintly through the apartment, a sound that instantly pulled her attention away from the emptiness of her room.

She arrived just in time to catch the tail end of your conversation, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she watched you say your goodbyes. Without a word, she approached quietly, her steps soft against the floor. The moment you ended the call, her body settled over yours, her warmth pressing you into the couch, her weight a familiar comfort. Wanda's smile grew as she leaned in, her face inches from yours as her body pressed you against the couch.

“So you’re lying to your friends now?” - She teased, kissing you jawline before taking your phone from you, tossing it as carefully as she could on the other side of the couch.

“I’m not lying. I told them I was asleep. It’s the truth” you murmured back, a smirk on your face as you caress her skin with the tip of your fingers. Wanda thought for a moment, her index finger running up and down your jawline before she whispered “But you never said where”

“Do you want me to tell my friends whose sheets I’m in, Wanda? Are you going to tell yours?” You challenged, eyebrows rising as you features that Wanda had adored for hours showed an amusement expression.

“Touché, pretty girl. Let’s fetch you some breakfast. Shall we?” She grinned playfully, slipping her hand into yours and giving it a gentle tug, leading you toward the kitchen, her fingers laced with yours felt sending a pleasant warmth up your arm as she moved with purpose.

As Wanda moved through the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets and gathering ingredients, you hopped up onto the countertop, letting your legs swing back and forth as you watched her. She was only a few steps away, her expression so focused and casual, that made your heart ache. The sight of her like this felt so intimate that it hurted. Even now, with her close enough to reach out and touch, you couldn’t shake the longing that clung to you, a reminder of the distance you'd crossed to be here.

Wanda chuckled softly when she spotted you perched on the countertop, a glint of amusement in her eyes as she approached, sliding effortlessly between your legs. Her hands found their way to your waist, grounding you as she looked up with a teasing smile.

“You know,” she murmured, her gaze flicking over to a nearby stool, “there’s a perfectly good seat right there.”

“Oh.. really? I didn’t realize” you smirk, faking surprised as you turned her head to where her gaze landed. “Brat,” Wanda murmured under her breath, a smirk ghosting on her lips as she took in the sight of you in her clothes—oversized and somehow fitting you perfectly at the same time. Her gaze lingered, softening as it traced over every familiar curve hidden under her sweater and sweats. She looked up, eyes meeting yours with that familiar glint.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she promised softly, squeezing your thighs over the gray sweatpants before turning back to the stove to begin making the pancakes. It was strange—how the months of silence between you hadn’t been addressed, how you were now sitting on her counter as if nothing had changed, nothing had been broken. The soft sounds of her moving around the kitchen, the rhythmic tapping of the spatula, the gentle hum of her presence, made everything else feel distant. You wanted to fight, to yell, to ask her why the hell it had taken so long to get here, but the way she moved, so calm and unbothered, made every word die in your throat.

Breakfast didn’t take long to prepare. The scent of pancakes filled the air, a comfort you didn’t realize you missed. Before you knew it, Wanda was placing a plate in front of the stool behind you, the warm food topped with fresh strawberries and bananas. She sets both the chocolate and honey syrups next to the plates. Silently inviting you to sit on the stool instead.

You did as she asked, hopping off the counter with a playful huff and making your way to the stool beside her. The moment you sat down, though, a frown tugged at your lips when you realized she wasn’t sitting right next to you. Instead, she moved to the counter to grab the fresh orange juice, her back to you as she opened one of the drawers near the sink. It was a small, almost insignificant action, but it hit you harder than you expected. The sight of her grabbing the strainer made something heavy settle in your chest.

You knew she remembered. You knew she knew how much you hated the foamy texture of freshly squeezed juice. She’d always done this for you—even if she complained, and teased and called you a child, - She’s always strained it every morning, without fail, just to make sure you didn’t have to deal with the foam. And now, seeing her do it again, it was almost too much. The ache in your chest flared, and for a moment, you felt that familiar, painful sense of longing. It was like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

With the juice in front of you and Wanda standing by your side, you murmured a soft "Thank you," your voice barely above a whisper. You took a bite of the pancakes, the sweetness of the strawberries and bananas mixing perfectly with the warm, fluffy texture of the pancakes. You savored every bite, the familiar taste pulling at something deep inside you. You’ve missed Wanda’s cooking.

“Is it good?” She asked, looking at you with her face resting on her hand.

“It’s wonderful, Wands” You praised, the nickname making Wanda’s breath get lost in her throat as she had to pull herself together. “No one does it like a Maximoff”

“What?” she chuckled as she asked, her tone light but with an undercurrent of curiosity, her eyebrows slightly raised.

“It’s nothing.. It’s just a joke Kate and I used to say after she hooked up with Pietro”

This time, Wanda truly laughed, a genuine, unexpected sound that filled the air. The answer was nothing she had expected. She looks at you with a smile, her eyes wide, shocked yet amused to hear something like that.

“I honestly don’t think I want to hear how that happened”

A silence rested in the room for a moment. It wasn't comfortable, yet it wasn’t completely awkward either—just an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. The soft clink of utensils against plates was the only sound, punctuated by the occasional sip of juice. Both of you ate the rest of the pancakes, chewing slowly, as if the quiet was part of the meal itself. The light from the window cast a gentle glow across the table, making the moment feel oddly serene, even if the silence remained a little too thick.

You got up from your seat, gathering both plates in your hands, and headed to the sink to wash them, returning the favor since she'd cooked the meal. The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed, but you suddenly felt your body tense when Wanda’s arms slipped gently around your midsection from behind. Her chin found a comfortable resting spot on your shoulder, her presence soft and grounding - You’ve missed Wanda’s hugs. Then, you felt the warmth of her lips as she placed a tender kiss on your neck, just where the edge of your hoodie left a small patch of skin exposed. It was a small, quiet moment, but it lingered, filling the air with something that felt unspoken yet deeply understood.

“I want to see you again” She murmured against your skin. biting on it gently as to indulge you in agreeing.

“Wanda..” You warned, you face barely over a whisper as you sigh, your head falling to the side as you continue to wash a mug. Not really paying attention but refusing to fully give in to the woman.

“I know.. I know” She sighs, tightening her grip. “But can’t two people reconnect?”

You closed your eyes tightly, feeling the weight of her words settle over you, each one resonating with an intensity that left you almost breathless. A heavy sigh escaped you, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself, but the impact was undeniable. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, feeling the weight of silence say more than words could in that moment.

“It can be casual” she tried once again. Even if the phrase went against her beliefs, she'd do anything to make you agree, nothing mattered more in that moment than reaching you, convincing you.

“Liar” It was all you managed to say.

But you were right, and both of you knew it. The truth hung between you, undeniable and clear. You and Wanda were too intense to be just casual—there was too much fire, too much depth simmering beneath the surface. Every glance, every touch felt charged, as if holding back a force neither of you could ignore. There was no pretending, no easy way to make it something light. What you shared demanded more, something deeper, something that couldn’t be confined to the surface.

“Yeah. You’re right. I don’t want nothing casual when it comes to you”

You lazily dried your hands with the dishcloth she kept by the sink, your movements slow and almost reluctant. Turning around, still wrapped in her arms, you looked up at her, a hint of defeat in your eyes. Her gaze met yours, and you felt the weight of everything unsaid pressing between you.

“This is a bad idea” You whispered as you felt her warm hands cupping your cheeks. Her thumb sweetly caresses the skin just like she had done it the other night.

"No... It'll be a bad idea if I continue to live without having you here," she murmured, her voice vulnerable and sweet, like you'd never heard it before. The softness in her tone caught you off guard, as if every word was wrapped in a quiet honesty, the kind that made her seem more fragile than you’d ever imagined. Her eyes held yours with an intensity that spoke volumes, and for the first time, you saw a side of her that was completely unguarded, raw and full of longing.

So you nodded your head, a quiet agreement settling in your chest. The thought of not having her, of continuing on and only ever complaining about how you didn't have her, seemed almost unbearable now.

Because just like your friends have heard countless times. You’ve missed Wanda’s hands, Wanda’s kisses, Wanda’s hugs, Wanda’s couch, Wanda’s cooking,. You missed Wanda in her entirety. You wanted to hear, to feel, to taste, to touch, to look at her everyday.

And if this was a bad idea, you’d rather see the movie all over again, even if the ending ached too much. It was better than not having her at all. It was enough.

✄╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it💌

#mcu #wanda maximoff #wanda #marvel #wanda x reader #Wanda x Y/N #Wanda x you #wlw #ex-lovers #second chance romance #Spotify

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xspeter · 8 months ago

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soon :)

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aventurineswife · 24 days ago

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TYYY, im the anon who requested avgin reader <33

i was thinking maybe part 2, where aventurine remembers that he promised to marry reader (an aventurine fan being delusional in its finest after some lovely angst), he would remember the promise because his past self told him that he would marry reader when he's older, and maybe he tries to find us but we already leave penacony

he looks for us for a while, but doesn't find us, until he comes across us again, but we have different colored eyes (contacts(im imagining every avgin has their own very unique eyes)). he tells us that he is sorry, but he had to leave kakavasha behind in order to become aventurine, AND WE MAKE OUT

jkjk

but he wants us to starts over and be friends again, and then eventually we start dating

i love being delusional over fictional men (especially aventurine)

End of Beginning | Part 2

Summary: Driven by a forgotten promise he made to you in your youth, Aventurine searches for you, only to discover you have also changed.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Slow Burn, Second Chance Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reunited Lovers, Childhood Friends to Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Repression, Confession in the Rain, Friends to Lovers.

Warnings: Emotional Pain and Past Trauma, Identity Struggles, Themes of Loss and Separation, Mild Language.

A/N: OMG HIII!! 🤭I LOVED YOUR PREVIOUS REQ AND YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT LMAOO!! ANYWAYS, I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS ONE 🫶💖🥰

(Part 1)

The rain came down like a forgotten melody, blurring the neon lights of Penacony's streets into hazy streaks of color. Aventurine stood beneath an awning, absentmindedly watching the downpour, his hand resting in his pocket, fingers brushing against a small object: a chipped, red gemstone you’d given him back on Sigonia-IV, long before everything had changed.

It had started with a memory—half-formed, distant but persistent. "When I’m older," his voice from another time had echoed faintly, "I’ll marry you." He hadn’t thought of that promise in years, but it lingered now, blooming in the spaces between his fabricated smiles and rehearsed confidence. In the midst of high-stakes deals and risky wagers, a part of him had begun yearning for something more honest, something only you could have given him.

And so, he had started looking. But you had already left Penacony, slipping away just as he arrived at places where he was certain he’d find you. Weeks turned into months, yet his search continued, propelled by a restless ache he couldn’t deny. Each dead-end only amplified the memory of you—your laughter, the way you’d said his real name, Kakavasha, as if it held his entire world within it.

Finally, he found himself in a quiet place far from the bustling cities, the perfect setting for chance reunions. He spotted you standing beneath a flickering streetlight, your silhouette softened by the drizzle. But when you turned to face him, he froze, heart hammering as he took in your unfamiliar gaze—your eyes were different, colored lenses casting your unique Avgin irises into another shade.

Still, he could tell it was you. He took a step forward, and you blinked in recognition, guarded but unable to disguise the glint of emotion in your expression.

“Kakavasha...” you murmured, almost like a question, but he could hear the hope hidden in your voice.

He clenched his jaw, glancing down as he felt the weight of that name settle into him. “I... I’m sorry,” he began, voice barely rising above the rainfall. “I had to leave Kakavasha behind to become Aventurine.”

The words hung between you both, fragile but resolute. You studied him, looking for a hint of the boy you once knew, the one who had promised forever. He took another step, so close now that he could see the light rain gathering in your hair, feel the warmth of your presence. “I remember... that I once told you I’d marry you one day,” he confessed softly, almost afraid to voice it aloud. “That’s why I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why didn’t you stay?” The hurt in your voice was undeniable, woven with both sorrow and defiance. “Why did you let go of everything we had?”

Aventurine closed his eyes, breathing through the ache. “I had to,” he said quietly, “to survive, to become someone who could protect you, in a way I couldn’t before.” He looked up at you, eyes revealing the struggle beneath his poised exterior. “But I want to try again, to be... someone you can trust. Let’s start over. As friends, if that’s what you want.”

The words opened a wound, yet there was something in his gaze—vulnerable and raw—that made you want to believe him. The rain picked up, pouring harder now, drenching you both in a cloak of silver. He lifted his hand, hesitated, then let it fall, as if afraid he no longer had the right to reach for you.

And then, standing under the rain, words escaped you, unbidden but true. “Then let’s start over.” Your voice was a whisper, but it was enough.

Aventurine’s eyes softened, a flicker of hope sparking within them. He stepped back, nodded, and offered a small smile that, for the first time in years, felt genuine. Neither of you moved to leave; instead, you lingered, drenched and laughing softly under the storm, sharing a tentative glance that promised more than any words could convey.

As the rain poured down, you both knew this was only the beginning—of something fragile, yet unbreakable.

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shortnspidey · 2 months ago

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BROKEN RECORD

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || stranger things || seasons two - four

SUMMARY: Lyra Hargrove had to grow up quickly, constantly adjusting to unwanted changes. The hardest was moving to Hawkins, Indiana after her father remarried to keep up a facade of a happy family. Weeks into their new life, Lyra notices Max acting secretive and avoiding everyone. She soon discovers that Hawkins is linked to the Upside Down, a dangerous, demonic version of their town. Joining the monster hunting club brings more secrets, lies, and potential heartbreak.

WARNINGS: friends to lovers, second chance romance, cursing, angst, stranger things violence, some talks of blood and gore

A/N: I do not own any of the stranger things characters only Lyra and her storyline as well as any other OC's that I create. Please do not copy or translate my work; paraphrasing is still copying! As always, thank you for all the support in my writing, I appreciate every single one of you! 🥰

➩ SEASON TWO

➩ SEASON THREE

➩ SEASON FOUR

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crazyunsexycool · 3 months ago

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Masterlist for the My Little Love Universe. These series revolves around three of our favorite fictional men, Bucky, Steve and Same. They each get their own story and this universe starts with Bucky’s.

My Little Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanched!Reader “Sugar”

Series Masterlist

Bucky was no longer the winter soldier. He was living freely and working with the Avengers. You were one of his closest friends and he was head over heels in love with you. The feeling was mutual. You liked Bucky the moment you met him but neither of you were willing to say anything yet. Everyday that passed, Bucky was able to remove himself more from what Hydra had done to him. Until a mission reveals that Hydra had been creating super soldier children and Bucky happened to be the father. With you by his side Bucky will learn to love and care for his kids. The love you have for each other blooms into a beautiful relationship. But Hydra isn’t happy that the next generation of super soldiers was taken from them and they’ll do whatever it takes to get them back.

Series warnings: major angst, fluff, smut, blood, medical emergencies, hydra, bad family relationships, mentioned child abuse, kidnapping, (please check individual chapters for warnings)

A Love As Sweet As Honey

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Scientist!Reader “Honey”

Series Masterlist

Steve wanted what his best friends had. He wanted love and family and peace. That’s wasn’t too much to ask for, right? Somewhere along the way Steve befriended Bruce’s lab assistant, you. You were guarded, slightly grumpy, you weren’t afraid to say what you were thinking and didn’t trust easily. That didn’t stop Steve from seeing more to you. He liked you and you liked him. While Steve didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had, you were afraid to let him see the more vulnerable part of you. However, after a night of drinking you wake up naked and next to each other. A drunken one night stand that will definitely put a strain on the friendship. Then you get a positive pregnancy test.

Series warnings: angst, fluff, smut, tears, unplanned pregnancy, talks of abortion, bad family dynamics, more to come… (read individual chapters for specific warnings)

A Love On Broken Wings

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Engineer!Reader “Sweets”

Series Masterlist

Sam Wilson had always wanted to fly. He wanted to help people and make a difference. When he saw the opportunity to become a pilot in the Air Force he took it. That choice would change his life forever. Not only would it lead him to become friends with and work along side the Avengers, he’d also met the love of his life. You also wanted to help people. Listening to your father tell stories from his time in the military and the limitations there were you wanted to created something that would change the way missions would be handled. That’s how you met the man that would steal your heart and break it.

Series Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, tears, character death, kidnapping, torture (see future chapters for warnings)

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

A/N: As always my permanent and series taglists are open. I will only add 18+ so please make sure you let me know if you are 18+ or that it’s on your blog!

#my little love series #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #dad!bucky barnes x mom!reader #a love as sweet as honey series #steve rogers x reader #dad!steve rogers x mom!reader #a love on broken wings series #Sam Wilson x reader #best friends to lovers #exes to lovers #second chance romance #unplanned pregnancy

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snarky-magpie · 4 months ago

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(Okay, with Something New finished, it's time for a snippet from the first chapter of the sequel. Which will be quite a bit different. Much more dramatic and angsty.) “Let me out,” Regulus hisses, but his feet continue moving until his back connects with one of the lockers, and the metallic thud of the collision reverberates through the air, skipping over Regulus’ vertebrae as though they’re a xylophone played by a ruthless hand. He barely has time to set his broomstick on the ground before James rounds on him.

“Not until you admit the truth. Admit you still have feelings for me.”

“When hell freezes over.”

James cages him in, his large body crushing Regulus against the hard sheet of metal, his thigh shoving ruthlessly between his legs while he completes the prison by placing his forearms next to Regulus’ head. He’s not wearing his gear yet and has on a short-sleeved T-shirt that offers Regulus a first-class view of corded muscles with raised veins running over them like rivers, covered by tawny skin dusted with dark hair.

“I was so angry when you told me to leave. Furious. It hurt me—you hurt me, Regulus, so I overreacted, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I still care about you, and I think you feel the same. Please. Talk to me, love. Let’s not—we’ve been together for a year and a half. Do you want to throw it all away? Don’t tell me you can forget us in a month. I was there, Regulus. You felt it, too. The connection.”

“No. That’s your delusion talking. I. Felt. Nothing.”

James dips his head lower, placing his lips next to Regulus’ mouth. “Stop denying it. You’re not that good of a liar.”

#jegulus #starchaser #jegulus angst #exes to lovers #second chances #james potter #regulus black #dead gay wizards #the marauders #ao3fic #fic wip #my writing

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eveninggstar · 3 months ago

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picture you ⊹ ࣪ ˖

max verstappen x childhood rival! childhood friend! ex!reader

25.08.24

୨ৎ Growing up in the fast world of racing, you and max find you distaste for the other and wants to be in top. Though as the years goes on you and Max find new feelings between the pair of you. You just hope the world you grow up in doesn’t change you and Max.

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

Karting was supposed to be fun, a way to channel all the boundless energy that came with being eight years old. But for Max and Y/N, it was serious business. It wasn’t just about the thrill of speed or the feel of the wind against their faces; it was about winning.

You were the new kid on the circuit, a girl with a fierce determination that seemed to drive you as much as the engine of his kart did. Max, on the other hand, had been karting for a couple of years already. He knew the tracks like the back of his hand and wasn’t about to let some newcomer come in and steal his thunder.

Your rivalry began immediately. Every weekend, your karts would be nose to tail, each refusing to give the other an inch. You'd trade victories, but it was never without a fight. If Max won one weekend, you would train twice as hard to ensure you win the next.

“You got lucky,” You huffed one Saturday after Max had edged you out by a fraction of a second.

Max, grinning, shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe you just need to get better.”

Your eyes narrowed, but deep down, you respected his drive, just as you suspected he respected yours. The pair of you pushed each other harder than anyone else ever could, turning every race into a battle of wills as much as a battle of skill.

By the time you were twelve, your rivalry had become legendary on the karting circuit. But something else had started to develop too—a friendship that neither of you had expected. It wasn’t something you talked about, and certainly not something you let your parents or other racers see. It was easier that way, easier to keep the lines clear on the track if you didn’t blur them off it.

But in the quiet moments, away from the roar of engines and the cheers of crowds, you found yourselves gravitating towards each other.

It started small. Sharing a bottle of water after a particularly gruelling race, a brief word of encouragement when one of you had a rough day. Then, it grew. You'd meet in the corners of the paddock, behind the trailers where no one could see you, and talk about anything and everything—except racing.

One evening, after everyone else had gone home, you had stayed behind at the track, sitting on the grass with the setting sun casting long shadows.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like if we weren’t racing?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max looked at you, surprised. “I don’t know… I’ve never really thought about it. Racing is all I know.”

“Me too,” you admitted, picking at the grass. “But sometimes I wonder what else there is, you know? What else we could be.”

Max was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah… I wonder too.”

By fifteen, things had changed. You weren’t kids anymore, and the feelings that had started to develop were more complicated than they had been when they were just rivals on the track. It was no longer enough to just be friends in secret. They wanted—needed—more.

It happened one night after a long day of racing. You were alone again, as they often were, sitting in the back of the van that your dad used to haul her kart to the track. The air was thick with the smell of oil and rubber, but all you could focus on was how close Max was sitting next to you.

“I think…” Max started, then stopped, unsure of how to continue.

“What?” You prompted, your heart beating faster.

“I think I like you,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You blinked, caught off guard. But then you smiled, a shy, tentative smile. “I think I like you too.”

You leaned in at the same time, your first kiss sweet and awkward, the way all first kisses are. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours and max's, and in that moment, it was all that mattered.

After that, you were inseparable, though still in secret. You were too young to explain the relationship to your parents, and in the world of competitive racing, there was no room for distractions. So, you kept it to yourselves, sneaking kisses behind the grandstands and holding hands in the dark corners of the paddock.

When Max joined Formula 1, everything changed. Suddenly, your relationship wasn’t just yours anymore. The world was watching, and the pressure was immense. You tried to keep things the same, to hold onto the secret world they had built together, but it was impossible.

You were photographed together, rumours started to spread, and soon, everyone knew. The backlash was swift and brutal. Fans and commentators alike questioned your presence, speculating that you were a distraction to Max, that you were holding him back.

But you didn’t care. You had faced tougher challenges together on the track, and you were determined to face this one too. You attended races together, hands intertwined, heads held high.

“Let them talk,” Max said one night, holding you close in a hotel room far from home. “They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through.”

You nodded, resting your head on his chest. “As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”

And for a while, it was. You were young, in love, and ready to take on the world. Max’s career was taking off, and you were right there beside him, his biggest supporter and the person who knew him better than anyone.

But even the strongest relationships can falter under pressure, and yours was no different. By 2018, things had started to change. Max was more focused than ever on his career, and you found yourself feeling increasingly isolated. The scrutiny, the constant travel, the endless demands of the sport—it was all too much.

You argued more often, over small things at first, but then over bigger issues. The time you used to cherish together now felt like a burden, a reminder of what you were losing.

One night, after a particularly heated argument, you both knew it was over.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said, tears in your eyes. “I love you, Max, but I can’t keep living like this.”

Max’s heart broke at your words, but he knew you were right. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But maybe… maybe we need to let each other go.”

It was the hardest thing either of you had ever done, but you knew it was the right decision. You said your goodbyes quietly, without fanfare, just the way your relationship had started. And then you disappeared from the public eye, your social media accounts going dark, your presence at the races gone.

For Max, the months that followed were some of the hardest of his life. He threw himself into his racing, using the track as an escape from the pain of losing her. But it wasn’t the same. The joy he once felt behind the wheel was tinged with sadness, the victories hollow.

Fans and commentators noticed the change. They saw the way he carried himself, the lack of the usual fire in his eyes, but no one knew why. No one knew about the sleepless nights, the empty hotel rooms, the countless times he stared at his phone, wondering if he should call you, if you were thinking about him too.

Do you picture me like I picture you? Am I in the frame from your point of view?

You, on the other hand, tried to move on. You buried yourself in anything that could keep your mind off Max—new hobbies, old friends, anything to fill the void. But nothing worked. Every time you saw a headline about him, every time you accidentally stumbled upon a photo of him on social media, the wound reopened.

You wondered if he thought about you, if he missed you the way you missed him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. You had made your choice, and you had to live with it.

Do you feel the same? I'm too scared to say

As the 2021 season progressed, it became clear that this was Max’s year. He was more focused, more determined than ever before. But beneath the surface, he still carried the weight of their breakup, using it as fuel to push himself harder, to prove something to himself.

Oh, I need you around

You watched from afar, unable to stay away completely. You saw him rise through the ranks, saw him come closer and closer to achieving the dream you had both talked about so many years ago. And as much as it hurt, you were proud of him.

I'm getting close now

When the final race came, the one that would determine whether he would finally win his first championship, you made a decision. You booked a flight, bought a ticket, and found yourself standing in the crowd, surrounded by fans who had no idea who you were.

You watched the race with your heart in your throat, every turn, every lap a reminder of the life you had once shared. And when Max crossed the finish line, securing the championship, you felt a surge of emotion you hadn’t expected.

Tears streamed down your face as you watched him celebrate, his team surrounding him, the roar of the crowd deafening. You should have left, should have walked away before he saw you, but you couldn’t move. You were rooted to the spot, your eyes never leaving him.

After the celebration on the podium, Max made his way through the throngs of people, searching for something—someone. He didn’t know what had compelled him to look, but something inside him told him you were there.

And then he saw you.

It was like the world stopped spinning. The noise of the crowd faded away, and all he could see was you, standing there with tears in your eyes, looking at him like you used to, like no time had passed at all.

He walked towards you, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached you, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, really looked at you, and in that moment, everything fell back into place.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice breaking.

You smiled through your tears, a smile that was so familiar, so right. “Max.”

He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as if to savour the moment.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied, opening your eyes to look at him. “Every day.”

You stood there, lost in each other, the noise of the world around you forgotten. It was as if the years apart had melted away, leaving only the love that had always been there, waiting for you to find each other again.

And as Max leaned in to kiss you, the first kiss you had shared in years, it felt like coming home. The crowd around them cheered, not knowing who you were, not knowing the history you shared, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were together again, and this time, you weren’t going to let anything come between you.

When I picture you

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

This one shot is based on what i thought the song was about

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #red bull f1 #red bull racing #mad max #childhood rivals #childhood friends #childhood lovers #second chance #fem!reader

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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

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Written for @steddieangstyaugust.

Never Not Mine

Prompt #1 - Second Chances | Word Count: 3240 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Possessiveness | POV: Steve | Tags: Past Break-Up, Exes-to-Lovers, Motorcycle Riding Eddie, Seeing Your Ex in a Bar, Steve's Gonna Get Eddie Back, He Just Hasn't Decided Yet If That Means Marrying Him, Or Trashing His Bike

Also available right here on ao3.

They've ended up at the same bar.

Steve isn't sure how the fuck that happened. Of all the bars in Chicago, Eddie Munson is in his regular haunt? It's bullshit. If Steve knew he was gonna run into his ex-boyfriend, the one that yanked out his heart and stomped all over it, he would have dressed for the occasion.

Not that he doesn't look good. He does. And he's aware of it. He's come into himself over the past few years. Robin whines that it's unfair that he's the one between them that had a glow-up, but tonight, it seems very fair and perhaps the whole reason for it.

It's as if the universe knew it was gonna be thrusting Eddie Munson back into his path, and as his reward, at least he'd look this fucking good.

And now Eddie's seen him, so he can't just fucking ignore him. Well. He could. But it might be more fun to flip the script and make Eddie suffer. Just a little. Eddie sure didn't hesitate to make Steve suffer when he wrecked their relationship, and then ran and hid like a goddamn coward.

Eddie's smirking, and Steve plans to wait for him to fix his fucking face before he approaches. Make him second-guess if it's even gonna happen or not.

Steve can tell Eddie still wants him, just by the way he's looking him up and down, hungry. Eddie fucking wishes. He had his chance, and Steve would have loved his stupid ass forever if Eddie had just let him.

So, Steve goes to the other end of the bar, strolling up and leaning down against the top, elbows on the wood, putting his finger up, signaling that he wants one. Kyle, the bartender, knows what he orders and slides him his usual without a word, just a big smile.

Steve tips well, and pretends he doesn't see Eddie watching the entire exchange, jealousy seeping from his pores.

There's a guy sitting on the stool right next to him, and when he looks Steve over hungrily, Steve squeezes his shoulder. He's not interested, not really, but Eddie doesn't need to know that.

Eddie's still watching him, but the stupid smirk is gone, so Steve finally approaches him.

"Small world," Steve says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Come here often?" Eddie asks, and Steve rolls his eyes at the stupid pick up line, as he slides onto the open stool beside him.

"All the time," Steve says, "unless you're planning on being here. Then I can find somewhere new."

He doesn't mean it, Eddie's not taking his fucking bar from him, but he wants to turn the knife, just a little. Get him back for all the bullshit he put him through, all those years ago.

Eddie might think he has the upper hand here, as the one that broke their relationship off. But Steve can see it in his eyes, the regret, and Steve knows he's gonna win this one. It's gonna go his way, whichever way that might be.

Eddie will be the putty, easily molded to his will. He'll make sure of it.

"Might just make you," Eddie says, "it's nice in here."

"You can certainly try," Steve answers, and the guy from earlier has scooted down until he's sitting at Steve's other side.

Steve swivels on his stool, smiling at the guy, "Hi."

"Is that your boyfriend?" he asks, looking around Steve to see Eddie.

Steve turns back and looks at Eddie, "He used to be."

Eddie's hand clamps down on his thigh, and it feels like lightning riding his veins. A jolt.

His body demanding that bygones be bygones.

Goddamnit.

Steve rolls his eyes, like Eddie is being dumb, but makes his excuses, and the guy is charmed, not mad, when Steve turns back towards Eddie.

Only then does Steve acknowledge the death grip Eddie has on him.

"Well, I can see you still want me," Steve says, stirring his drink, as Eddie squirms on his stool, "Don't you?"

And Eddie's hand lets go, like he's been burned.

Steve takes it as a win. Another small tally in the 'you rule' column, while Eddie racks up the 'you sucks' all for himself.

They make small talk. About their mutual friends that had been divided and divvied up during the great war that became their break-up. Steve got Robin, of fucking course, and Eddie got Gareth and the rest of the band, but that left Henderson shuttling back and forth, knowing better than to even dare breathe the other's name.

If Henderson caused this, if he gave up Steve's bar to this degenerate ex of his, Steve's gonna kill that kid. Slowly.

Steve goes to the bathroom, and when he looks into the mirror, he sees that Eddie has followed, and is standing behind him. Of course he did. He's never had an ounce of self-control.

There was a time Steve loved that. Loved the feeling of riding along as a passenger to Eddie's storm. The shitty van, that turned into a fixer-upper bike, that eventually turned into a nicer vintage bike that Steve loved sitting behind him on. Wind in his hair, holding on as they moved as one.

Eddie was a tornado, and Steve was just sucked into the vortex he'd chosen, just waiting to be spit back out.

And he was.

He'd have held on forever, but Eddie let go, and that was that.

Steve's still mad about it, honestly. He's never gotten over it. Over him. The one that got away. As fucking cliche as that sounds.

Eddie got away, and Steve couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks, wheeling on him.

He shoves right up against Eddie, and Eddie presses his chest right back against him. Not backing down, either of them. Then they're grabbing at each other so hard that if anyone saw them doing it, they'd probably both leave here handcuffed, suspected of being involved in a bar brawl.

This isn't that.

This is more heated, more desperate, more personal than that.

Eddie grabs a fistful of Steve's hair and pulls his head back, baring his throat, that he immediately latches his mouth to, sucking so hard Steve knows he's gonna have a huge, fucking hickey.

At his age.

He can't find it in himself to care, though, not really.

But he shoves Eddie off of him, hard, because he's not getting the upper hand. Not now, not tonight, not ever again. Eddie can be cornered for a bit, Steve thinks, as he pushes Eddie up against the bathroom wall, trapping him there, leaning forward and biting his lip, hard. And Eddie moans, right into his mouth as Steve slides both of his hands up under Eddie's leather jacket, squeezing his sides.

"I have a boyfriend, you know," Eddie says, half-hearted, even as he chases Steve's lips. His touch.

"Yeah, well, I got someone, too," Steve lies. He suspects Eddie is lying as well. He doesn't know why. He came here, and Steve suspects he came looking just for him. Did his research, somehow, and showed up.

Now, he's getting exactly what he asked for.

Steve pulls back, and then looks right into Eddie's eyes, "You were never not mine."

And Eddie whines, low in his throat, then scrabbles at him, clawing at his back through his jacket, his shirt, trying to get a hold of him in some way. Like he's desperate.

Fucking good.

He should be desperate.

"No matter where you went, no matter who you fucked," Steve says, low and a little threatening, "no matter whose hole you used, or what dick was inside you, you always knew you were ruined for anyone else. Didn't you?"

Eddie nods, pathetically, "Ruined. So ruined."

Steve yanks Eddie into the open bathroom stall, locking the door behind them. Then he pushes all his weight against Eddie, restricting his movements. He isn't sure what he's gonna do with him. Not really. Get him back, somehow. Whether that's petty revenge or marrying the stupid fucker, he hasn't decided yet.

"What are you gonna do to me?" Eddie asks, big eyes boring into Steve's soul.

"Haven't decided yet," Steve says, then he leans back, bracing himself against the other wall of the bathroom stall, "How about you try and convince me, one way or the other?"

And Eddie's nodding, head bobbing up and down, hair flying, even as he sinks to his knees in the dirty stall.

They're disheveled, and it's obvious what they've been doing, but Steve can't find it in himself to care.

Steve holds onto Eddie's hand, pulling him, even if he's not exactly sure where he's headed.

But Steve sees the bike, and he's pretty sure it's not the same one Eddie had when they were last together, but he can still tell it's Eddie's. Would recognize it anywhere, even if he's never seen it before in his entire life.

Steve walks over to it and stands beside it.

"What makes you think this is mine?" Eddie asks, but he's fishing the keys out of his leather jacket, and Steve lets him get on, barely, before he's swinging his leg over, climbing on behind him.

Yeah, he should wait, but they've done this song and dance a million times.

It's literally like riding a bike.

He hugs his body close to Eddie's, smelling the leather of his jacket as he presses his face to Eddie's back, as Eddie kicks the bike to life.

And once they pull away, Steve remembers everything he's ever known, and leans with Eddie as Eddie takes them wherever he wants. Somewhere with a bed, preferably.

Steve loves this feeling, the synchronicity of following Eddie's movements, like second-nature. Eddie takes a corner, and Steve shifts his head, tucking to the inside. He doesn't have to think about it. Eddie leans, he leans. Their weight moving together. It's fluid, and comfortable, just as it always was.

Steve meant it when he said Eddie wasn't getting the upper hand again. If he wants to fuck, he can just roll the fuck on over, then.

"Roll over," Steve commands, and Eddie does it. Bare ass staring right back at Steve. His own name, still there, tattooed dark against his skin, branding him.

Steve slaps it, "What'd I say? I told you that you were still fucking mine."

"I'm yours," Eddie mumbles into the pillow that his face is smashed against, as he raises his hips up, wanting.

Steve reaches over to the nightstand, and yanks open the drawer. The second one, not the top one, because he still knows Eddie.

He pulls out the bottle of lube, a couple strips of condoms and wraps his fingers around the sex toy he sees there.

"What the fuck is this?" he asks. It's fucking huge, colorful, and bulging in places Steve's never seen a sex toy bulge before.

"If you're good, maybe you'll find out sometime soon," Eddie says, and maybe he'll find out right now, and use it on Eddie.

He puts it on the bed, and Eddie says, softer this time, the bravado and bluster gone, "No. Not tonight, I want you."

If Steve's hand is shaking, just a little as he puts it back, at least Eddie won't know.

"Whatever," Steve says, even if he feels anything other than whatever about what's happening right now.

They're both vers, that's nothing new. But more often than not, Eddie wanted to fuck him. And Steve wanted him to do just that, and it was only because Steve knows how much he loves it, that he was gonna deny him.

But the fact that Eddie's desperate and begging for him tonight, is intoxicating. Nobody is getting denied here, and that's just fine.

Steve chooses between the two kinds of condoms, and rips open one of the foil packets, because he's not new at this, and doing it first, before the lube is involved is the smart move.

Only then, does he uncap the lube, slicking up his fingers, and pressing one right inside Eddie, who relaxes and lets him. They still know each other better than they know anyone else on earth. At least in this way. Yeah, he shares a brain with Robin, but he can read every minute shift in Eddie's body.

He clamps his palm down over the tattoo of his own name. The one Eddie never removed, even when he was purging many others he'd grown tired of. Steve's not a faded scar on Eddie's body, on his ass. No, he's bold and black, still making his mark. Still marking his claim, lingering in his rightful place in the world.

And Steve squeezes it with his free hand, making his point.

Steve slides his finger in, knuckle catching on his rim on the way in and out, and Eddie whines every fucking time it happens. So, he does it again. And again.

Then, when he's ready, slides in two. Then, three.

Eddie takes them all, takes everything Steve is giving him, and acts like he still wants more.

Steve knows that feeling. He's always wanted more from Eddie. He doesn't ask if he's ready. He knows he is.

So, Steve grabs the condom, pulls it from the opened wrapper and slides it down his dick. It fits like a fucking glove.

"Why are you still keeping condoms in my size?" Steve asks, rubbing the head of his dick against Eddie's hole.

"Guess I have a type," Eddie says, face against the pillow, "girthy."

Steve laughs, and swats him on the ass, "Knees."

Eddie forces himself up onto his knees, and Steve slides off the edge of the bed, pulling Eddie until he's backed up to the edge.

Standing behind him, he pushes the head of his cock against Eddie's opening, waiting for the give, waiting for Eddie to take him inside.

Eddie pushes back against him, and he slides right in, like he's been doing this for all the years they've been apart. Like, no time has passed. They still know each other that well, and Steve bottoms out, making Eddie moan and groan about it.

"Feels good," Eddie says.

"Better than whatever that horse cock is in your drawer?" Steve asks, staying settled. Making Eddie wait.

Eddie's breathing hard, but Steve knows he still can't resist answering, he never can.

"It's a wyvern cock, thank you very much. But you could get a horse one, if that's what turns you on," Eddie smarts off, and Steve grins. He's still a fucking nerd, that hasn't changed, obviously.

Steve adjusts, and aims right for Eddie's prostate. He knows what works on this man, and he damn well should, as many times as they've done this dance together.

Eddie whines, and hangs his head.

"I asked if this was better?" Steve repeats, hammering his hips into Eddie's ass, as Eddie claws at the bedsheets.

"Yes," Eddie breathes out.

"Yes, what?" Steve asks again, just playing with him, because he can. Because Eddie loves it.

"Yes, you're better. You've always been better."

Steve believes it, because Eddie's always been better, too. Nothing has even come close to comparing.

And Steve grips his hips at that, and starts grinding into him. A steady, solid roll of his hips, slow, but fucking perfect. Eddie makes a broken noise, and that's all it takes for Steve to start fucking him in earnest. Not hard, not soft, just fucking right. Just like Eddie has always preferred.

Eddie shifts under him, bracing one arm in front of his face, leaning his forehead down against his forearm, and Steve remembers this move. It makes his heart squeeze and beat a little faster in his chest, but he frees up his hand from Eddie's hip, and is ready when Eddie reaches his free hand back.

Steve laces their fingers together, holding his hand, holding on. To him, to them, to this moment.

In case this is it.

It's not it.

It'll never be it.

"I'm sorry," Eddie breathes out, "I love you."

And Steve's hips stutter, the rhythm suddenly lost as he pushes deep, leaning over Eddie's back as best he can without knocking him down to the bed, and kisses his shoulder, the back of his neck, "I love you, too. You're never leaving me again."

Eddie shakes his head, his back heaving, "Never."

Steve keeps fucking him. Keeps loving him, has never stopped. Not for a minute.

When Eddie comes, he clenches down on Steve, crying out, squeezing his hand as tight as he can.

Steve squeezes back, and keeps fucking into him, even through the grip Eddie's got on him.

His orgasm is building, building, building and he finally just lets go. Shoving as far into Eddie as he can, groaning as he empties into the condom.

Steve breathes for a second before pulling out, having to let go of Eddie's hand to do it, and he steps back from the bed, sliding the used latex off of his cock. Eddie rolls over onto his back, and watches.

Then, opens his arms, an invitation.

One Steve's gonna fucking take. No question.

He tosses the tied-off condom in the general direction of the trash, making Eddie laugh, as Steve puts his knee on the bed, dipping down with it, as he crawls over on top of Eddie, and makes himself comfortable.

Eddie immediately wraps him up in a hug, fingers dancing along his spine.

Steve lets Eddie hold him, face tucked into his neck. He could fall asleep right here, and it'll be the best sleep he's had in years. He's sure of it.

Just as Eddie's hands start to slow, Steve speaks up, "If you really have a boyfriend, you're gonna have to take care of that."

Eddie laughs, his chest rumbling against Steve's, "I don't. I just wanted you to be jealous."

Steve could lie, could do lots of things, but he tells the truth instead, "Yeah, well. I've been jealous since the day you left me."

Eddie makes a noise, and Steve presses his lips to Eddie's neck.

"I really do love you," Eddie says, "if you wanna risk trying to love me back again, I swear I'm ready this time."

"I don't need to try," Steve says, "this love I have for you has been my constant fucking companion, even when I had nowhere to put it."

Eddie cups the back of his head, and holds him close, "Robin told me your favorite bar. I've been there, off and on, for a month. Never catching you."

Steve laughs. Robin. He should have known.

"Don't be mad at her," Eddie adds.

"Oh, I'm definitely mad at her," Steve laughs, "but I'm happy, too. And it finally makes sense why she was so fucking interested in how my nights out have gone lately."

Eddie laughs, and Steve loves the sound. Has always loved it.

"Guess she'll finally hear what she's been waiting on, come tomorrow," Steve laughs.

"I'm sorry you need to give me a second chance," Eddie says, fingers tangled in Steve's hair, stroking his scalp gently. "I shouldn't have squandered the first one."

"No, you shouldn't have," Steve laughs, but he's happy to take this gift. From Robin. From Eddie. From the universe.

They didn't get right the first time, but maybe they will the second.

Goddamn. He sure hopes so, anyway.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieangstyaugust and follow along with the fun angst! 😭

Notes: Inspired by the song imgonnagetyouback by Taylor Swift.

#steddieangstyaugust #second chances #steddie fic #stranger things #exes to lovers #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieangstyaugust

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