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mytheoristavenue · 4 months ago

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MHA Bassist!Sero Hanta x Reader 🍋 - Back to the Bus

Kinktober 2024 - X

Face sitting + Piercings

Summary: After scoring backstage passes to your favorite band's show, you're surprised to find the lead singer seems interest in you.

Warnings: Oral (f!receiving), face sitting, praise, a bit rushed

You couldn't believe your luck! Not only had you just finished watching your first concert ever, you were now in line to meet the band backstage!

"You're going to crumple your poster." Your best friend croaked from beside you, gently taking it from you, having to pry it from your nervous hands. "How about I hold onto this for you?"

"S-Sorry, Tsu." You murmured sheepishly, handing it over. "Gosh, I'm totally freaking out!" You gushed, wiping your sweaty hands on the front of your distressed band tee. "I can't believe we're gonna meet the Pop Rocks!"

The amphibian girl simply beamed at you. Truthfully, she wasn't into this scene, only indulging you, though she didn't mind the music. She just preferred lighter stuff. "Try to calm down, yeah? You don't wanna squander your chance, do you?"

"No," You laughed nervously, moving up in line. "But don't pretend you aren't excited too! I bet you can't wait to meet Bakugo! You even started following him on social media!" Tsu paused, blushing a bit.

"I admire his dedication to his craft." She dismissed, swallowing dryly. "Besides, no crush of mine could top the one you have on the bassist- what's his name again?"

You exhaled heavily in annoyance. "Hanta Sero? The love of my life?"

She simply giggled at you. "Yep, you're definitely obsessed!"

As the pair of you excitedly chatted away, the line in front of you began to dwindle until all that stood between you and the band were a velvet curtain and two more fans. "Tsu, I can't do this, I'm too anxious."

"What?" She deadpanned, shoulders slumping.

"I'm gonna throw up." You warned her, heaving. She placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

"If you back out now, you'll never forgive yourself." She pointed out, glancing over your shoulder as the two in front of you stepped behind the curtain. "You got this, they're just people!" She gave a reassuring smile.

"Famous people!" You whined back, covering your mouth and gagging.

"Fame is a myth." She rolled her eyes, pushing you forward by a few feet. "Don't you wanna meet Sero?"

"Y-Yeah..." You murmured. She was right and you knew it. You steeled yourself, putting on a brave face, turning to face the curtain. And then it opened and your heart stopped.

You both were led directly behind it where five people lounged on a pair of plush couches and a slew of beanbags and armchairs. The set up looked like some sort of music video with the way it contrasted with the industrial background of the closed stage. "Hey, thanks for comin' out!" One of the guitarists chirped, jumping up and offering his hands for both of you to simultaneously shake. "How'd you like the show?"

"I-It was amazing!" You gushed, starstruck, eyes dragging over his wide crimson hair, smudged eyeliner, and torn muscle tank that stretched taut over his chest.

"Well, if you didn't already know, I'm Kirishima, Kaminari and I play electric," He smiled, tossing a thumb over to the blonde, lounging on one of the couches. "That's Sero, our bassist, Bakugo, the drummer," He nodded to the other couch, towards another, ashier blonde, and a smug ravenette, home on a beanbag respectively. He then motioned to one of the armchairs, which held a petite woman in heavy gothic makeup with fishnet tights. "And Jiro, our singer."

Of course, you knew them all by name and role, you never memorized their birthdays. But, fearing letting that on wouldn't bode well, you played ignorant. "I-I'ts great to meet you all!" You chimed breathlessly. The girl smirked, peering at you expectantly.

"Do...you have a name?" She chuckled to herself.

You felt like an idiot, of course, you were supposed to introduce yourself! "Oh, sorry, uhm..."

Sensing your discomfort, Tsu stepped forward. "This is (Y/N), and my name is Tsuyu, but everyone calls me Tsu!"

"Nice to meet you both," She replied, mellow, before turning her attention back to you. "Listen, we're just people, no need to be nervous." You nodded shyly, face red.

You and Tsu continued to chat with Jiro, Kirishima, and Kaminari for a few minutes. Bakugo listened in idly, never letting his tough guy facade crack, and Sero simply watched with an amused grin. You were quite disappointed that you hadn't gotten to talk to the latter, but you did have his signature on your poster, it having been passed around by each member, so what was good.

After your allotted time was up, you and your guest were escorted to a backdrop, where the band crowded around you for a picture. You and Tsu posed in the center, hugging each other closely, and the other five followed suit, all back to the chest after one of you with goofy grins on their faces. You could plainly see Bakugo hugging her from behind, and the stark redness on her face. Behind him was Kirishima. That meant the other three were behind you. You wondered if it was behind you. Probably Kaminari, if you had to guess, as the arms around your waist were far too toned to be feminine, and the head that rested on your shoulder was higher up than Jiro was tall.

"Say cheese!" The cameraman chimed, stepping behind the tripod, giving small notions to adjust posing. Focused on your practiced smile, nothing could have prepared you to catch a small glimpse of inky hair cascading over your shoulder. Though, what really got you was the voice in your ear that cooed:

"Can I get your number after this?"

In a blinding flash, the photo was taken and you were escorted out of the way by the event staff. You were permitted to say your goodbyes to the band, but you only needed to speak to one person. "Is that a no?" Sero chuckled, stepping in front of you.

"Y-You really want my number?" You swallowed nervously, backing away a bit.

"Mhm," He grinned before turning sheepish. "But... I left my phone back on the tour bus. Wanna go with me to get it?"

"I-I could just write it down or-"

"I'll lose it." He hinted with a wink and your face lit up like a homecoming bonfire. "You gotta put it in my phone yourself." Th smirk on his face grew as he Thenodded towards the back door. You glanced back at Tsu, who had been pulled aside as well by a certain drummer, cheeks pink as she shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She nodded to you, giving a discreet thumbs up.

-----

You could hardly recall the last several minutes. It wasn't for a lack of memory, but the events went by so quickly, you could hardly register them. One moment, he was pulling you out the back door to the venue and aboard the tour bus, showing you around it, and the next, he had you on the couch, raking his slender fingers through your hair. "I could be totally misreading this but..." He chuckled sheepishly. "I think you like me a little bit..."

"I do..." You swooned, eyes tracing over his pierced features. "You're like my favorite musician ever..."

"Oh, stop," He grinned, leaning in close. "Flattery will get you everything." His smile subtly faded, bringing your face closer by your chin, your thumb brushing over your pouty bottom lip. "I don't want you to think I'm some scumbag who hooks up with every groupie..." He coos, breath fanning over your face. "I really do think you're cute..."

"Y-You do?" You gasp nervously, melting at his touch, leaning in with him.

"Yeah, fuck, it's like-" He laughed dryly. "Kept gettin' all nervous on stage with how you were lookin' at me. You looked like you saw a shooting star."

"I did," You sighed, lovesick smile creeping across your face.

"Hey, what'd I say about flattery?" He hummed, lips dangerously close to brushing against yours.

"That it'll get me everything?" You answered sheepishly, suppressing a flirtatious giggle. "What does that one get me?"

"A kiss, should you choose to accept it." He smirked, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

"Y-You sounded amazing tonight..." You gushed breathlessly, eagerly kissing back.

"Better stop baby..." He chuckled into your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue. "You keep talkin' all sweet to me and I might just have to kiss you all over..." Suddenly, you yanked away from him, startled by the feeling of cool metal clicking against the back of your teeth. He stifled a giggle at your flushed face. "Hey, hey, it's cool, just my stud." He reassured gently, sticking his tongue out to reveal a small barbell nestled in the center of the pink muscle.

You eyed it curiously, face flushed and nervous. "O-Oh, sorry..."

"Ya know..." He gave a dry laugh. "It vibrates."

-----

You couldn't be bothered to stifle the sobs tearing from your throat, so overstimulated and spent that you couldn't even feel the build-up to your orgasms anymore. Painted fingernails dug crescent moons into your thighs and cool silver rings left imprints in your flesh as he held you firmly in place from below. You couldn't even begin to wrap your head around it. Not only had you caught the attention of your idol, but you were riding his face on the couch of his tour bus.

"'Nother one, c'mon," He rasped words a bit muddled as his tongue hung from his mouth before pressing to your clit. You shrieked, drool dripping down your chin as your back straightened. True to his word, the stud did in fact vibrate, and was he getting his money's worth from it.

"C-Can't!" You wept, fingers raking through his midnight locks, tugging gently at the roots. "T-Too much!"

Sero simply chuckled again, sweetly kissing at the slobbery flesh surrounding your core before running his tongue through it again. "One more, please, you can do it, baby." He begged, voice muffled as he continued to drink you in. When he felt you settle against his face again, he groaned with delight, one hand leaving your hip, digging into his jeans hastily. "Ugh, fuck yeah, good girl."

You immediately positioned yourself to focus on building your climax, shy at the sound of his needy moans and squelching of his cock fucking into his wet fist. "S-Sero, I-I-!" You hissed, a weak and undeserved orgasm rapidly approaching. Your body had already had enough and this was all it could offer as you grinded your hips into his face.

"That's it, pretty, ride my fuckin' face so good." He heaved, whimpering prettily into your thighs, his hips jerking into his hand as he neared his high. Without any way to stop or slow it, your final orgasm finally hit, leaving you sobbing loudly, rocking your hips into his face. "Ahhh, fuck, princess, good God," He strained, riding you both out with no regard for volume control.

Carefully, when you were ready, he helped you down, sitting down beside you on the bench seat, and pulling you against him. "Holy shit," He huffed, smiling lazily. "Yeah, I'm for sure gonna need your number, like actually."

#mha #mha x reader #hanta sero #hanta sero smut #hanta sero x reader #sero #sero x reader #sero smut #kinktober #mha smut

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withleeknow · 9 months ago

Note

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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joelscruff · 2 years ago

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this one thing you did (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

this is totally self indulgent smut based on a night out i had. i don't usually put songs into my fic but this song was playing on said night out and how could i not include it?? anyway, enjoy 🎉 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: dancing with a stranger at your favorite club leads to something filthy. (early 2000s!joel, no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: grinding, unprotected p in v sex with a stranger (don't do this), creampie, comeplay, dirty talk, bathroom sex word count: 3.5k

The booming bass and flashing lights are their own kind of high, regardless of how many shots you've already taken tonight. The club is your playground, bodies swaying back and forth, bare skin reflecting sweat and glitter as you playfully grind against a nameless and faceless man on the dancefloor, hips rotating to the beat of the music as he grips your hips tightly from behind. This is your favorite place.

You spot your friend over at the bar, still chatting up her date enthusiastically; she's barely danced tonight, too distracted by her handsome new friend she met last weekend. You figured this would happen; third wheeling has become a skill in and of itself for you after being single for so long, but you don't mind. She seems happy, he seems sweet, it's all good. Besides, you have other plans.

The song is winding down and you turn around to finally match a face to the hands on your body; he's cute, albeit a bit young, blonde hair and blue eyed with a goatee he should probably reconsider. He's hot though, and he smells good. The alcohol still buzzing in your body, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, smirking playfully.

"You got plans after this?" you ask over the pumping bass, flipping your damp hair out of your face and feeling a cascade of glitter zip past your ear.

"Kinda," he replies back just as loudly, hands traveling down to your ass, "I'm at a bachelor party, we're going to another club after this," he squeezes you through your dress and smirks, "You wanna come?"

You bite your lip and your eyes dart back to your friend at the bar, still chatting it up with her new man. You've met him, got a good vibe, but you still feel uncomfortable leaving her here, even if she'd probably tell you to go on ahead. You turn back to the blonde and shake your head.

"Can't leave my friend," you shout, "Sorry, maybe next time!"

He makes a face, frustration suddenly flooding his expression, "But there won't be a next time!"

"Why?"

"It's my bachelor party," he replies, like this should have been obvious to you, "I get married tomorrow!" He squeezes your ass tighter and leans down to speak directly in your ear, "Be my last, come on."

You pull back from him immediately, yanking yourself out of his grip with disgust, "CREEP!" you yell loudly, pointing to him as people begin to turn to look at the two of you. The song has ended, a few seconds of silence granting you the attention you desire, "GET OUT, CREEP!"

"Creep!" you hear another girl call near you, "Leave!"

"CREEP," someone else calls, and soon most of the people in your general vicinity are shouting at the man to leave; he backs away, looking at your angrily as he turns around and lurches toward the front of the club to find his friends. You smile after him. That's how it's done.

The next song has already started and you feel your face light up when you recognize 1 Thing by Amerie blasting through the club speakers, the unmistakable sound of percussion reverberating in your bones as you look frantically around the crowded floor for someone else to dance with.

"That was ballsy," you hear a voice behind you, deep and southern, and you look down with surprise to see a large hand pressed firmly against your belly through your tight dress, "Wanna dance?"

"You're not married or getting married, are you?" you call back, twisting your face a bit to catch the slightest glimpse of brown hair and a beard; hot.

"Single as they come," he replies, and that's all you need.

You grind back on him immediately, loving how his grip around your middle tightens as he pushes his groin against your ass. Your dress certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination, ridiculously short and covered in silver glitter; you can feel the swell of him through his jeans and you smirk as you lean back against him and start to sway your hips to the beat.

His hands are a godsend; he knows exactly how to touch you, hands moving from your midsection to squeeze your hips, thumbing the shape of your thong beneath your dress. It's not visible but it's like he knows it's there, caressing the V of your hips and grinding himself into you a bit firmer. You feel your brows furrow, a bit taken aback by this level of intimacy; you're so used to club guys who just take what they need, view you as more of a warm body than anything else. Which is fine, it's not like you view them any different.

But the way this man dances with you is entirely new. He pulls you in closer as the song progresses, noses your hair and helps you sway back and forth. He smells good, even better than the blonde guy, a more mature and masculine scent that's musked and piney. He's big and tall too, you can tell how much larger he is than you when you lean back further and press your entire body against him, feel the broad expanse of his chest against your back.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, knowing he can't hear you, "That's good."

It feels almost impossible for him to hold you any closer but he somehow does, tightening his grip around you in his arms, one of the hands on your hips trailing upwards to press flat against the space between your breasts where you're bare. You look down, eyes hazy, and see the large shape of his hand firm on your chest, fingers splayed out and lightly brushing the sides of your breasts, only held up by some tape you'd applied before leaving the house.

"Fuck," you repeat, but you can't hear it, biting down on your lip in a pleasured pout and grinding back into the man even more, feeling yourself begin to throb under your dress. Almost like he can sense where you're aching, he moves his other hand down from your hip to grip your thigh, thumb tracing the innermost part gently. You shiver in his grasp.

You bring your gaze back over to the bar and are surprised to see your friend looking over at you, a wide grin plastered on her face. She mouths something and you squint to see her, making a confused face.

"He's fucking hot," she mouths again, throwing you a thumbs up, "Good job."

You feel yourself grin back at her, "Is he?" you mouth back.

She nods quickly and mouths, "He's perfect!"

You feel a flutter of pride and contentedness rise in your chest at her blessing. It's rare that either of you ever call a guy perfect, but you'd seen the hint of brown hair and the beard and hoped he was your type. You like big, tall men. Strong, ones who can take care of you, lift you up if necessary, take control. Brunettes with beards have always been your favorite. Obviously she can see that he's completely your type.

The song is winding down but you're desperate to stay as close to this man as possible, pressing back against him and closing your eyes. You feel his breath at your ear, both hands returning to their familiar spots on your hips, fingertips lightly touching your bare thighs. You suddenly want him to lift up the dress and start fucking you right there on the dancefloor; you're down bad.

You lean your head upwards a bit, trying to speak loud enough so he can hear you, but also not so loud that people in the vicinity can hear as you say, "Wanna fuck me?"

You feel him smirk against your skin, "Lead the way."

Still not turning to look at him you reach down and take his hand, the final notes of the song ringing out in the club as you lead him to the women's bathroom. You've had sex in here before, many times, so you know how to give yourself the privacy you need for the short period of time you need it.

You drag him inside the bathroom and finally turn around to look at him, grinning again when you get a good look. Oh, your friend was so right. He's perfect; tall and broad, scruffy and unkempt in the sexiest way possible. He's got brown eyes, dark and seductive, and a playful smirk that's already driving you wild. Before you put your hands on him you quickly reach down under one the sinks and grab the edge of a ridiculously heavy box with god knows what inside; no one questions the box.

"Help me put this in front of the door." you say, and he doesn't need telling twice, immediately reaching down to pull it out. You know from experience that this box is heavy, which is the whole point people leave it here to begin with. However, he seems to move it with ease, biceps flexing under his black t-shirt as he places it in front of the bathroom door.

As soon as it's in place you grab his forearm and pull him toward you, worrying your lip between your teeth as you both move toward the sinks with what's probably a pathetically debauched expression on your face.

He grins and carefully picks you up and places you on one of the counters like you weigh nothing, leaning down to plant wet kisses along your neck as he pushes your thighs apart and stands between them. Your dress is so tight that he has to roll it up a bit, leaving you sitting bare-assed on the countertop; you're definitely gonna need a shower later.

"You do this a lot?" he asks you, that southern drawl back in full force and making you pulse even more in your panties, "Seems like you know what you're doin'."

You nod unabashedly, "It's not my first rodeo."

He laughs at that, deep and rough, then brings his hands down to grip your thighs tightly beneath his wide palms, "Let's make it a memorable one, then."

You lean forward to capture his lips in a hot kiss, wet and sloppy. He tastes like whisky and you're sure you probably taste like vodka, the strong flavors mixing together as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and inches his fingers upwards to grip your thong. He tugs it down easily and keeps kissing you hard, licking inside your mouth and humming at the taste. You hear the unmistakable jangle of his belt buckle as he pulls it free, making you open your eyes and pull back from the kiss to watch with hooded eyes as he pulls out his dick.

"Knew you were big," you say with a smirk, batting your eyelashes at him, "Could feel it on the dancefloor."

He chuckles and pulls your dress up even more, leaning back to look down and assess where you're bare. He reaches down and thumbs your wet cunt, smirking when a moan immediately falls from your mouth.

"And I knew you were dripping," he replies roughly, "Could feel it on your thighs."

Fuck. You let out another moan when he quickly shoves two fingers inside without any warning; you take him easily, pussy sucking his fingers in with an obscene squelch that makes both of you groan. He pulls his fingers out and drags them along the length of his cock, mixing your juices with the precum leaking from his weeping tip.

"How long we got? Since you're the expert." He doesn't say it in a way that's shameful or disgusted; if anything he seems more turned on by the fact that this isn't new for you, shuffling forward to bump the fat head of his cock against your opening.

"Maybe five minutes," you reply quickly, gaze jumping to the closed door, "Before someone starts knocking."

You realize then that he's not wearing a condom and that neither of you have even suggested the prospect of being safe. You know for a fact there's some in that box; whether staff or people coming in and out are responsible for that, you're not sure. Regardless, you only briefly consider asking him to put one on before deciding it doesn't matter - you're drunk and horny and you want to feel him raw.

You can practically hear your friend calling you an idiot already.

You hitch your arms up around his neck and hear yourself emit a guttural moan as he pushes his cock inside you. He goes a bit slow at first, just to get you adjusted to his size, but then he's filling you completely to the hilt and you have to hold on tightly to him so you don't topple off the counter. He's so large, practically in your stomach as he starts to steadily thrust in and out, holding you close.

"Oh fuck," you whimper into his shoulder, hands scrambling for purchase against his back, "Shit."

"Yeah, that's it," he murmurs in your ear, low and seductive, "Take it."

You take it, that's for sure. It's not like you have any other choice. You're glad he can't see your face because you're sure it's twisted into a ridiculous expression, mouth agape and eyes crossing slightly as he fucks you deep. You've taken big dicks before but never from somebody who actually knew how to use it, how to drag it back and forth at the perfect speed, be sure to prod that special spot deep inside you. Your friend was right, he's perfect.

The bass of the music continues to boom outside the bathroom, muffled and echoey; you don't recognize the song but that's the last thing on your mind as this gorgeous man fucks you into a state of pure nirvana. You whimper pathetically in his ear, feeling your back bump the bathroom mirror every time he thrusts, one hand coming up to get lost in his hair.

"Fuck, you take it good," he mutters, slamming his hips back and forth and tightening his grip around your body, "Perfect pussy. You fuckin' love gettin' filled up, don't you?"

You nod into his shoulder and whimper again when he starts fucking you even faster, body practically vibrating on the counter. You pull back to look at him and find your head bobbing wildly back and forth like you're a ragdoll, completely at his mercy. You lock eyes with him and moan when you see his blissed out expression, the glitter from your face now clinging to his sweaty skin.

"Oh fuck, what a face," he groans, "You're cross-eyed, baby. I'm fuckin' you stupid, huh?"

You nod frantically again, "I-" you try to speak, voice shaky and weak as he relentlessly pounds into you without stopping, "I'm-"

He nods along with you, "I know, baby, I know," he murmurs, "Don't talk, just take that cock."

You grip him tightly again and bury your face in his shoulder. It's perfect timing because you almost feel yourself start to cry out when he starts rubbing your clit, bringing you to your release. Your legs wrap around his waist and you practically scream into his shoulder, your whole body shaking and vibrating as your orgasm takes over.

"That's it," he hisses through his teeth, clearly close to his own release, "That's it, come all over my cock."

Your pussy tightens and pulses around his thick length as you come, clit throbbing beneath the man's steady touch. You whine into his shirt as he fucks you faster, impossibly harder, the wide head of his cock repeatedly pushing against your favorite spot. It's too much and you have to bite down on the fabric to stop yourself from sobbing.

He doesn't ask where you want his come; he knows.

He fucks you once, twice, three times more before stilling inside of you and letting out a deep and rough groan, pulling back to watch your expression as he fills you up. Your jaw drops, legs shaking around his waist as you feel his thick spurts of release paint your insides. You both stare into each other's eyes with mirrored looks of pleasure, eyes hooded and dark.

"I'm clean," he says, voice breaking slightly, "Probably shoulda told you that before we started."

"It's okay," you whimper, still focused on the feeling of his cock, the way it pushes his come further inside, "I wanted it."

"Yeah, you did," he murmurs, eyes scanning your face, "You wanted it bad, didn't you?"

You nod and he leans in to kiss you. It's sweeter this time, not as hurried or sloppy, and you moan faintly against his lips when he carefully slides his dick out of you.

"Want me to clean you up?" he asks, and you shake your head.

"No," you whisper, "Wanna feel it dripping when I dance."

He groans and reaches down to pull your thong back up your legs. You shimmy off the counter, legs like jelly as you shakily stand and pull them up all the way.

"That'll keep it in there," he murmurs, pulling your dress down and patting your pussy gently through the material, "For a little while."

A loud knock at the door and the sound of a girl yelling "I have to pee!" notifies the both of you that your time is up. You watch as the man stuffs his softening cock back inside his pants and starts to do up his belt quickly, still eyeing you. He wastes no time in kissing you one last time, holding you close and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"I gotta head home," he murmurs against your lips after a few seconds, "But thank you for this, I needed it."

You giggle and pull back to take one last look at his face, aware of the girl outside the door still steadily knocking and begging to be let in, "We should do it again."

"I'll hold you to that."

You both pull away from each other and he reaches down to move the box away from the door. Immediately a girl and a few of her friends rush inside, barely batting an eye when they see a man in the women's bathroom; this isn't an uncommon occurrence here. You leave the bathroom with him and walk with him to the exit, making sure to check the bar for your friend. She's still sitting there, lost in her own world. You smile.

"Are you sure you have to go home?" you ask once you're both outside the club, alone together on the sidewalk; the question is probably a little pathetic but you don't care.

He smiles softly, "I do, I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere early tomorrow and if I take you home..." he trails off, eyes scanning up and down your body, "Well, let's just say neither of us will be getting any sleep."

You shiver, more from his words than the cold air, but he still reaches forward to rub your bare shoulders gently, giving you some heat. It's a small and quiet gesture, but it makes your heart flutter.

"Can I get your number?" you ask, suddenly a bit shy despite the fact that you can feel his come beginning to leak out of you. He nods with a smile and you pull your phone out of the top of your dress to hand it over to him.

He takes it from you, looking down and pressing a few buttons to program his number into your contacts, then hands it back to you. You suddenly feel a strange tickle between your legs and your brow furrows.

"Shit," you mutter, realizing what it is.

"What?"

You look down at yourself and see a thick drip of his come inching down your inner thigh. He follows your gaze and makes a strange noise in his throat, taking a few steps forward and watching with dark eyes as it slowly dribbles down your leg.

"You're on the pill, right?" he murmurs.

"Yes," you whisper, still watching his release drip from you.

He pulls you into his arms one more time and kisses you long and deep, slipping his hand under your dress to gently ease some of his come back inside you. You whimper against his mouth as his thick thumb slips inside your hole and carefully pushes his release as deep as he can.

When he pulls back he tilts your chin up and smiles softly at you, eyes still full of desire as you keen beneath his touch.

"Now go dance with all that still inside," he murmurs, "I know you want to."

You're back inside the club a few moments later, skin tingling with the rush of what's happened in the last twenty minutes. You take out your phone quickly to make sure his number is definitely there, that he did it right. You feel your face warm when you see the new name listed in your contacts:

Joel.

You slip your phone back inside your dress and head for the dance floor, pushing past the gyrating bodies and the couples making out, the dudes looking for whichever girl will grind on them. Just one more song, you think to yourself. The bass booms, the lights flash, and you dance with abandon.

This is your favorite place.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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feelbokkie · 10 days ago

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L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 22

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food and eating, depiction of an anxiety attack

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: ♡PENED

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,972

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 21

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing this chapter so soon but on of you sent me a ko-fi and it kinda motivated me to get this chapter done and out.

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

You flip through the menu for the fifth time trying to figure out what to eat. Hyunjin and Wonseok happily chat along in their own little world about some art movement—you lost the plot of their conversation ages ago when they started about a specific type of paint and technique that you’re not even going to try to pronounce. Changbin sits across from you, absent-mindedly fiddling with his menu and nodding to the ongoing conversation.

“Are we boring you so much that you’re just going through the menu? Again?” Wonseok asks suddenly.

“I don’t know what to eat,” You grumble quietly.

Wonseok reaches over and turns a few pages in your menu. When he finds the page he's looking for he traces the page with his finger until he lands on one of the menu items. "They have fish and chips right here."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd take us to an actual restaurant. I can't order fish and chips while the three of you order...whatever you're going to order. It's like if I went to a restaurant back home and just ordered tteok-bokki...or if we were in the States and I got chicken tenders and fries." You gently push Wonseok's hand away from you and roll your eyes.

Wonseok pulls back his hand and brings it to his temples, almost as if he's starting to get a headache. "This is probably the only time I'm going to get to treat professional idols to a meal, I'm not just going to give them street food. Just order what you really want to eat because you're not going to be able to order fish and chips for dinner at the place we're going to. I don't want to hear you complain about not eating what you wanted for the rest of my life."

You huff out a 'fine' as you close your menu and set it to the side. Your eyes land on Changbin who is quietly scribbling something on a piece of paper that seems to have materialized. You quietly shake your head and turn your attention to Hyunjin who is looking between you and Wonseok, thinking hard about something.

"You know, Wonnie, Hyunjin is an amazing artist." You pull up your broken arm from resting on your lap. "He's the one who drew all over my cast. He posts some of his stuff on his Instagram. He's probably even carrying around his sketchbook in that tote bag of his..."

"Ah, noona..." Hyunjin's voice trails off as he scratches the back of his neck. You can't see his ears under his hat but you can almost imagine how red they're getting.

Wonseok takes your broken arm and carefully examines the doodles and drawings on your cast. Most of them are flowers and plants. Occasionally, there are little characters like the BbokAri he drew next to Felix's message and the puppy next to Seungmin's. There's hardly any room left for anyone else to write anything. Before you forbade any of the members from hanging out with you without someone else there, Hyunjin would find his way to you when he was bored and draw on your arm.

"Wow, these are amazing, Hyunjin! Do you mind if I look at your sketchbook?"

Your arm is returned to you as Wonseok and Hyunjin get wrapped up in yet another art-filled conversation. Changbin is still focused on his piece of paper, scribbling away. Part of you wishes you could pull out the small tablet you brought with you so you could work on editing photos on the ride to the gallery. But you know that'll only cause Wonseok to scold you for working when you're not supposed to. If you could offer more thought to Wonseok and Hyunjin's conversation that isn't just regurgitated garbage from your first-year introduction to art history course that you took back in university, then you could easily join in their conversation.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you sit up a bit straighter in your seat and rest your chin in your good hand. "What are you so focused on writing there Changbin?"

There's a moment of silence between the two of you. He pauses writing but you're not sure if he heard you or is thinking of what to write.

"Lyrics," He mumbles so softly that you almost miss it amongst the noise that is Wonseok and Hyunjin chattering loudly beside you.

"Did you get an idea just now?" You perk up in your seat a bit. "Can...can I see? I won't write about it. It's all off the record."

Changbin's head stays low, focusing on writing his lyrics. It's only now that you're reminded of his inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. The fact that he answered you earlier is strange and probably the most he can do.

You watch him silently as he works. You take note of all of the little things you see. Like the way his brows twitch as he tries not to furrow then while he scribbles something out. Or how the fingers on his nondominant hand dance on the table while his head subtly bops along to a rhythm only known to him. Whether he's simultaneously creating a beat in his head while he works or he's remembering a song that one of the other members of 3racha made is another unknown factor that you wish you knew the answer to. You notice the way he mouths out the words he's writing to himself and how quickly he presses his lips together and shakes his head when it appears to not flow correctly. You can only imagine that this is what it was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel; hypotonic.

You only break out of your trance when your server comes to the table and takes your order, something that neither you nor Changbin noticed until Wonseok and Hyunjin told you. And that's when Changbin finally looked up and caught you staring at him, forcing you to look away as heat rose to your face. Wonseok took advantage of the situation and ordered your food for you before you could change your mind.

After lunch, the four of you decided to walk around London for a bit. When you were working with Han and Seungmin yesterday, you made sure to avoid the more populated and obvious tourist areas, only capturing notable landmarks in the distant background. With more freedom to explore, you all head to the more touristy areas so Hyunjin and Changbin can blend in more seamlessly.

As you walk along the crowded streets, the earlier pain you felt inside the art galley quickly comes back. You're paying less attention to the conversation between Wonseok and Hyunjin and more to your surroundings. Despite the cool day, you feel suffocatingly hot. Almost like something is sucking all of the air out of your lungs.

"...Y/n!"

You snap out of whatever daze you're in at the sound of Wonseok's worried voice. You glance up to meet three concerned faces watching you carefully.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Your voice is thick is unsteady as you're unable to meet any of their eyes.

"Are you okay? You're walking slowly. I thought we lost you in the crowd for a moment there."

You swallow hard as you try to settle your rapidly beating heart. "I think I ate too much earlier. My stomach hurts."

"You look kind of pale, noona," Hyunjin chimes in. "Maybe we should head back to the hotel?"

You wave Hyunjin off quickly. "N-no, it's okay. I just need a moment."

"I'll go get you some water." Wonseok's voice softens with a gentle tone as he looks around for a shop.

Hyunjin places one hand on Wonseok's shoulder, stopping him from trying to look through the crowd. He pulls his bucket hat off with his other hand, gaining a clear view of the area. "We've been here a few times. I think I know where there's a shop nearby. I'll help you find it, hyung."

"Okay, thank you. Changbin, are you okay watching Y/n?" Wonseok asks the younger man.

Too focused on the unsettling feeling growing through your body, you don't notice that Changbin's already watching you. He's been silently keeping an eye on you since you started to fall behind on your walk. Had Wonseok waited a second longer to notice you, Changbin would have said something to bring their attention to you.

"I got her," He says simply.

With that, Hyunjin tosses something at Changbin and leads Wonseok forward through the crowd. Changbin quietly pulls you off to the side away from the crowd, under the shade of a tree. You mumble out what you hope is a 'thank you,' and focus on Changbin's shoes. They're white sneakers a blue stripe going through them. Subconsciously, you start to count the small holes near the end of the shoe while you place your hand on your chest. You feel your heart beating rather quickly like it's beating a little too hard and might give out at any moment. You apply as much pressure with your hand and take deep, unsteady breaths as you try to calm your heart.

You feel something cover your head, partly obstructing your vision and muffling the outside noise. You look back up at Changbin who is now adjusting Hyunjin's bucket hat that he put on your head.

"Professional idol secret," His words come slowly as he continues to fix the rim around the hat. "A lot of us don't do well in crowds so we wear bucket hats to block out the noise and the view a bit. Fans think we wear them to hide our hair for comebacks, but most of the time it's to protect our sanity."

You swallow dryly, unable to wet your suddenly parched throat. "I go to concerts and fan signs for a living. I do well in crowds."

Changbin crouches down so you can see him under the protection of the bucket hat, a tender smile warms his whole face. It's the first time you've seen him smile since the gallery. "In the past, yeah, but...you have the same expression on your face that you've been getting when we're at the airport lately. You kind of look like Hannie when he's having an anxiety attack."

"I don't have anxiety attacks," You're not sure if you're telling Changbin or reassuring yourself. You can't remember a single moment in your life where you've had an anxiety attack. So why would you start now?

"Okay," Changbin nods before standing up straight again, your view of him is once again obstructed by the hat. He gently takes your hand off of your chest and places it on his own. "At the very least, match my breathing. You sound like you just ran a marathon and I can't help you if you pass out. I don't know cpr."

The two of you stand there for a moment. Changbin's hand is firmly on yours as he keeps it on his chest. You have no choice but to match his breathing by following the steady rising and falling of his chest. You can feel the subtle, yet rapid thuds of his heart beating in his chest despite how calm he is.

Slowly, but surely, your own breathing falls into its own steady rhythm and the strange feeling in your body dissipates. You're not exactly sure how long the two of you stand like that, but eventually you drop your hand from his chest and Changbin let's you.

"Better?"

You slowly nod your head. Most of your discomfort is gone, but you still feel jittery. Almost as if you injected straight caffeine into your bloodstream. "Yeah, I just need to sit down."

Changbin doesn't ask further questions and instead leads you to the small grassy area near the tree and urges you to sit. He joins you on the grass, falling back into silence. Now that you're relatively back to normal, you can't help but avoid looking at Changbin. You're more thankful for the hat now that it can help you avoid his gaze.

The two of you sit there in silence for a few more minutes before Wonseok and Hyunjin find you. Hyunjin is about to question why you're wearing his hat before Changbin stands up and pulls Hyunjin to the side for a moment to talk to him.

Wonseok takes one of the empty spots beside you and rummages through the plastic bag he brought back with you. He pulls out a water bottle and a small metal tin and hands them to you. "I watched a TikTok ages ago and a doctor on there said that mint is supposed to be good for an upset stomach."

"Thank you," You smile tiredly at Wonseok.

Hyunjin and Changbin make their way back to you. Hyunjin takes the other open spot next to you while Changbin sits on the other side of him. They're quiet for a moment while you continue to drink your water and eat the mints that Wonseok bought. Wonseok passes out the other water bottles from his bag to Hyunjin and Changbin.

Surprisingly, Changbin breaks the silence first, asking if the store that Wonseok and Hyunjin went to was crowded. Then the conversation shifted to what everyone planned to do later. Wonseok tells them about your now tentative dinner plans, which leads to an argument. You change the subject to see what the newlywed couple of the group had planned. The conversation shifts again, this time to souvenirs that all of you want to get. Which of course leads to another teasing argument that ends with Wonseok trying to make you spill water on yourself.

"You two are such a cute couple. How long hav--"

You choke on your water as Hyunjin's words catch you off guard and trickle down the wrong pipe. Wonseok has his own visceral reaction, one that you don't see but you can hear the sound of him gagging at the question. Still, Wonseok slaps your back to help you get the water out.

"We--are not--dating." You choke out as you try to regain your composure.

"Y/n is like my little sister," Wonseok adds as he drops his hand back to his side.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin have confused expressions as they watch the two of you. Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth like a fish as he lets out confused babbles. "Sorry, I just thought...you two are...when..."

"Wonseok hyung is older than you but you two talk casually. Plus you're so close." Changbin says finally. Hyunjin shuts his mouth and nods quickly, agreeing with Changbin's reasoning.

"That's because Wonnie is a pathological liar--ouch!" You rub the spot on your leg where Wonseok hit you and glare at him. Although, you're not sure he saw your face through the hat.

"Stop telling people that I'm a pathological liar." You don't have to see to know that he's rolling his eyes. Wonseok shifts a bit and faces Hyunjin and Changbin. "I enlisted right after I graduated high school to get my military service over with. I ended up liking it so much that I stayed for two more years. When I finally enrolled in university, I was so much older than everyone in my classes that I just never mentioned how old I was. I met Y/n our senior year during our internship so I never said anything. She didn't know that I was older until we got our official IDs with our birth year on them."

"And he's so much older," You crack a smile.

"Stop that, I'm only 3 years older than you."

"Whatever," You wave him off as you turn back to the two younger men. "Besides, we're really like family. His parents treat us like siblings."

"Plus I have a girlfriend."

"And he has a girlfri..." Your voice falters in the middle of your sentence as you think about it for a moment. You turn to Wonseok and blink for a moment as you try to process what's happening. "You got a girlfriend? You actually got a woman to talk to you? Romantically? Who is it? Do I know her?"

His lips form a line so tight that the skin around them turns white while he tries to think. You flip part of the bucket hat up so you can see his have better. He's looking down at a blade of grass, contemplating something before he meets your eyes. "Frankie,"

"My Frankie?"

"Well, technically our Frankie but yeah." He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"Oh," Your heart rapidly sinks to the bottom of your stomach.

You physically bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking a million questions. Knowing that your best friends are dating behind your back hurts. Especially when there's an unspoken agreement against keeping secrets. So why did…

"I'm going to throw this all away and then we can explore a bit more." You get up quickly and take everyone's now empty water bottle.

If you stay where you are and continue to let your mind wander any further, you're going to either say something rude to Wonseok or burst into tears. You're happy that your friends found happy relationships. But they kept it from you and the idea of that doesn't feel good in your head or your heart.

"Noona--"

Wonseok puts his arm out, preventing Changbin from going after you. You're out of ear range as you walk quickly to the trashcan. Wonseok turns to both younger men and shares a small smile. "I get it but if you try to comfort Y/n when she's upset, it's going to become a bigger issue. Trust me, she hate when people see her upset or cry. Just let her have a moment and then she'll be okay."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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sissylittlefeather · 2 months ago

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Hi there! I’m not exactly sure how to give links to songs, nor am I sure if I send this other places, but I do have a song I’d like to give for the event! “Your Love’s Been A Long Time Coming”, by Elvis, of course, and my only other request is that you have a good day/night! 💜

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 5: Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming

A/N: Aw thank you so much!!! I'm sorry this one is late. We're still dying of some kind of plague in my house and it's been rather distracting. But here it is!

(Also, as an aside, I have a whole fic series based on this song. If you're interested, find it here.)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~1.2k

You've had one bad relationship after another with men that hurt you over and over again. It's gotten so bad that you've sworn off dating altogether. It's just not worth the pain.

That's when Elvis collides with your life. No, really. He actually collides with you. He rear-ends your car in the middle of the night on your way home from work because you're too broke to get your tail lights fixed. He's ready to read you the riot act until you roll your window down and turn your tear-stained face up to him. When you realize who he is you stammer and apologize and cry even harder, but he's gentle and kind and he makes sure you and your car get home safely. Still, you're pretty sure you've seen the last of him.

But you haven't, not by a long shot. He turns up on your doorstep two days later with a bouquet of pink roses and the keys to a brand new station wagon. You sit on the porch and talk for a bit until he tries to persuade you to go to dinner with him. You're deep into telling him no when your son comes to the door to announce that whatever your mom is cooking is ready to eat. It's a veritable nightmare and you bury your blushing cheeks in your hands.

“What's for dinner, bud?” Elvis asks over you. Your 5 year old son, Benny, replies happily.

“Meatloaf!”

“I love meatloaf. Is there enough for me?” You sit up and shake your head. There's no way you're letting him come into the house you share with your aging mother and young son.

“We always have extra. Come on.” Benny pushes the screen door open and Elvis stands up before you can stop him. You want to sink into the floor as he stands in your tiny, messy living room, but Elvis continues to be gracious and sweet. He puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to him, whispering in your ear.

“It's okay, honey. I like it. It's nice and homey.” He pulls back and smiles down at you. You're not sure how it happens, but somehow you end up with Elvis Presley at your small dinner table, laughing and chatting with your little family. He and your son bond instantly over cars and football. He even manages a talk with your mother about church music and she blushes and calls him a ‘nice young man’. The conversation is easy and you seem to get along in a way that he hasn't experienced in a while. There's something about you, a simplicity and authenticity, that he can't get enough of. When the night comes to an end, you walk him back out to the front porch and he kisses your cheek and tells you he'd like to see you again. How on earth are you supposed to say no?

After a few more weeks of spending an inordinate amount of time together, you find yourself in his bedroom at Graceland. You know he's married, but that doesn't seem to matter to either of you as he kisses you deeply, his hands on your hips. He starts to move down your neck, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin under your ear.

“Elvis?”

“Hm?” He doesn't stop kissing your neck.

“Why do you like me?” Now he pulls back and looks down at you.

“Honey, I've been dating beauty queens and movie stars for so long, I forgot what a regular woman is like. You're a real person and I like who you are. You make me laugh and you're kind and warm and you don't see dollar signs when you look at me. You're smart and beautiful and you're a good mom. I've been waiting for someone like you for a long time.” You look up at him, your eyes glassy with tears.

“I think I've been waiting for you too.” He smiles and dives into another deep kiss and neither of you looks back. You shed clothing left and right as you stumble to the bed, his hands running over your naked skin. He presses his lips anywhere he can get them and lays you on the bed gently. In a matter of seconds, he has you spread open for him, his tongue dipping into your pussy between hard licks over your clit. Your hand goes to his hair as you whimper and moan and get closer and closer to your climax. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure and you've never had a man try this hard to get you off. He feels your walls flutter and tighten on his fingers and hums, the vibration making you see stars. It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, your pussy throbbing around him as the lightning bolts run in your veins.

“God, you're pretty when you cum.” He whispers as he sits back up, situating your ankles on his shoulders. You bite your bottom lip as he teases your sensitive entrance with the head of his cock. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes, oh yes please!” You whimper breathlessly as he starts to slowly push into you, giving you time to adjust to the size of him. It feels so good, being filled like this, and the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. When he bottoms out, his whole cock inside you, he stops for a second and groans.

“You're so tight, baby. So fuckin’ tight. You're perfect.” You moan as he slowly pulls back and then thrusts forward, filling you again. “Does it feel good?”

“Feels so good! Oh!” He smiles down at you and kisses your ankle as he starts to pick up a steady rhythm of fucking into you.

“You got such pretty little sooties, baby.” He kisses your ankle again as his hand caresses your foot, his dick sliding in and out of you at an even pace.

“God, Elvis, this is amazing.” You moan as he rearranges your legs to be around his hips. He leans over on top of you and whispers in your ear.

“I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight.”

“But aren't you–”

“That's over. Has been for a while now. I want you, baby, for the long haul. Tell me you want me too.” He holds both of your wrists in one of his hands above your head and runs his fingertips down your body with the other.

“Yes, Elvis. Yes, I want you.” He grips your hip with his free hand and starts to pump into you faster and harder.

“Good. I'm gonna cum, baby.”

“Me too, oh god.” He slams into you hard and deep and you hit your climax simultaneously, both of you pulsing and panting and melting into each other. As your bodies relax and you come down from your shared high, he presses his sweaty forehead to yours.

“I love you, baby. I know it's quick, but I've loved you since I first saw you.”

“Oh, Elvis. It's not quick. This has been a long time comin’ for me. I love you too.” He smiles and rests his head on your chest.

“It has for me too, baby. It has for me too.”

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #12 days of ficmas

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oacest · 4 months ago

Text

Oasis' Noel Gallagher is like a bad boyfriend. He doesn't call when he says he will, and when he does show up, it's usually too early or too late. With a new album - "Don't Believe the Truth," out Tuesday - and a pending worldwide tour, he's too busy these days to squeeze chats in between television interviews in Paris and jumping on the Eurostar back to London. But like any bad boyfriend, once you get him on the line, he's as charming as all get out. Cocksure, glib and playful, he's without any of the mean spiritness you might expect from the outspoken rock 'n' roll star whose well-documented battles with other bands and his younger brother Liam are what rock legends are made of. Don't believe the stories, Noel says. "It often sounds to me a lot more vicious than it is," says on the way to a London gig. "It's all said very tongue-in-cheek, ya know? But when it's in black and white, obviously you don't see the smirk on [our] faces when [we're] saying it." But don't expect the bash brothers to let up on the fighting any time soon. "It's something that comes naturally to me," he says, adding, "I quite enjoy it as well." Recently Noel said Liam was like a woman with constant PMS, while Liam called Noel a "f---in' smug c---." But Noel wasn't upset. In fact he embraced it. "Well I am a f---in' smug c---," he says, with a smirk. "Wouldn't you be?" Sure, why not? The Manchester band's latest disc is being heralded as their best effort in years - a return to old-school Oasis - and the four-piece Brit-poppers sold out their first Madison Square Garden date, on June 22, in an hour. "It's quite amazing. I'm quite upset we didn't do it before," he says. "We don't want to go slapping each other on the back yet. We haven't done the gig yet." Oasis wants to make sure they aren't rusty. The band hasn't released anything in three years. They recorded an album with electronica duo Death in Vegas as producers, but scrapped the effort. "The songs weren't good enough. It's as simple as that really," Noel says. How did he know? He gets help from his five-year-old daughter Anais. "She said, 'Daddy I like that one. It's cool. Record that one,'" he says with a devilish laugh. "Of course, that's not true. It would be great though, wouldn't it?" They're also getting older. Noel turns 38 today, but he hates celebrating birthdays and doesn't exchange presents with his brother any time of the year. At times he seems like he only tolerates Liam. "He's good to be in a band with, but I wouldn't go down to bingo with him," he says. In fact, if they weren't brothers, Noel and Liam wouldn't be in the same band anymore. "If I didn't have a band with relatives in it I would be solo, beyond a shadow of a doubt," Noel says. That said, Noel says he looks out for Liam, as an older brother should. "I wouldn't like to leave Liam on his own," he says. "He'd get in too much trouble." Awww. That's so nice. "It is, innit," Noel says.

-NY Post, May 29, 2005

#noel #quote #noel on liam #it is innit

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im-sleepdeprived · 10 months ago

Text

Crazier • Pt. 2

wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)

warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school

read part 1 here

The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way.

"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero.

His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."

"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder.

"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.

So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you.

"Can I ask why you're crying?"

"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used.

You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass."

"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him.

"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did.

"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"

You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."

You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?"

You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well.

"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time.

"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."

"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again.

He decided he'd take what he could get.

You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more.

"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside.

Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too.

When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open.

You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea.

Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid.

While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge.

"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot."

He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."

You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day.

"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that.

"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged.

"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"

You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."

His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things.

"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling.

"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay."

"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."

So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip.

He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.

Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side.

He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"

You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."

That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him.

"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle.

You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"

He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?

"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?"

"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything.

"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be.

You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.

"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything, just in case.'

"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."

You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."

Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so.

"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was.

You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on."

But deep down, neither of you believed that.

You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.

It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost.

Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood.

You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you.

"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical.

"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage.

"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that.

"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade.

"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment.

It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.

Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall.

"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious.

You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."

She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"

"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued.

"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little.

"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways.

She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him.

The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard).

Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.

There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could.

You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream.

"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant.

She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.

You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know.

"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,

"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."

MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.

"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist.

As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels.

You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet.

"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it.

"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly.

"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce.

"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did.

"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice.

"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely.

"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.

"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered.

MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."

you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was.

"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes.

It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them.

So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was.

"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement.

They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone.

"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true.

"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal.

"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree.

"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested.

"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered.

Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud.

Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again.

As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun.

"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention.

he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped.

"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over.

you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two.

"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her.

"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question.

"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh.

The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"

"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing.

"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N."

You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."

"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."

"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped.

You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated.

She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes."

You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door.

"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder.

"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again.

"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,

"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring.

He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors.

"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."

"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you.

"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you.

"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement.

"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper.

You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"

The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question.

You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment.

The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists.

You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in.

You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed.

"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it.

You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you."

He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close.

You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit.

Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"

Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you.

"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin.

"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious.

"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this.

"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns.

You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing.

"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed.

You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."

She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."

You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry.

You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls.

You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"

Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."

"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh.

"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile.

You were dead set on doing everything on this list

A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick.

You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this.

You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"

She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered.

"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks.

"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far.

"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."

You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."

"We have to steal the principal's desk chair."

"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head.

"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why.

Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."

Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you.

the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."

"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered.

"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."

You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed.

You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you.

"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal.

"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask.

"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."

Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him.

You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her.

"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."

"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion.

You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about.

Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."

Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter.

Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled.

You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.

You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter.

"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide.

"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?"

She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves.

The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up.

They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces.

"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time.

You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked.

They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other.

"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"

The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement.

Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."

Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"

"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.

"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips.

"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."

"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left.

Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"

Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."

You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"

"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod.

You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,

"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."

Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."

Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"

they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind.

You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said.

"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad

"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.

You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."

You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."

"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"

he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked.

You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."

He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side.

You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building.

As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.

read part 3 here !!

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shirayuricky · 3 months ago

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jealousy | murata fuma

(divider by @cafekitsune) (requested by anon)

- apart of shirayuricky's 100 followers event -

pairing: murata fuma x fem! reader

genre: smut

warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (be safe)

prompts used: 8 - "you're in trouble now." , 31 - "behave."

word count: 0.7k

a/n: sorry for the delay! i hope you like this, though :)

you were hanging out with fuma's friends, all 8 of them, along with you and fuma, are in one room. it was all light chit chats and jokes, laughter everywhere. other than fuma, you are most familiar with euijoo, that's why he is comfortable in playfully slapping your shoulder when he's laughing. and of course, you smiled at him like normal, he's having the time of his life.

however, one person isn't too happy in seeing you getting too friendly with euijoo. he's silently glares at you for moments, which you then caught right after. fuma makes his way to you, sitting beside you.

you seemed a bit scared, have you done anything wrong? you haven't. but fuma thought the other way round. "excuse me, i shall excuse myself first. i'll be right back." he stood up, grasping your wrist along. "we'll be right back! don't worry, everyone." you said as you got pulled out of the room. you really wanted to ask him what led him to this, but you were too busy trying to get out of his grip. it's too strong, you struggled to break free.

he brought you an empty and unoccupied room, the interior same like the previous room..but much further away. "you looked happier with euijoo than with me today." he said sternly. "we're just friends, it's not like we're gonna kiss or something." you defended yourself.

"i don't care about that anymore, i just needed to remind you who you belong to." fuma said, his eyes darkening. "fuma! you aren't like this..." you were cut off. "listen, y/n!" he raised his voice a little, taking a deep breath as he leaned closer. his lips are now close to your ear. "you're in trouble now." he whispered. "now, take your punishment like a good girl." he took off your cardigan, an indication on what he will do next.

"fuma." you called him out. "behave." he simply said. without hesitation, he stripped off the rest off your clothes and immediately lowered himself down to his knees before he wrapped his lips around your sensitive clit. he could already taste your arousal.

"fuck, i just got started and you're already this wet?" he darkly chuckles. maybe his emotions getting riled up do make you wet.

he licks several stripes, up and down against your wet pussy before pushing his tongue deep in you. that movement involuntarily made your fingers reach towards the strands of his hair, tugging on them. it's an invitation that he should do more.

but the invitation was declined, you softly whined since you almost felt the feel of climaxing. "be grateful i would still let you cum even though you're a bad girl." he said, lowering down his pants and his boxers in one go, revealing his thick and erect cock.

"get ready, baby." he lines up his cock against your entrance and dives deep in. you let out a loud gasp. and he doesn't go slow, he goes fast. and his thrusts are rough which made you struggle to keep your legs straight. fuma noticed this and pins you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist. suddenly, you felt the urge to cum.

"you wanna cum for me, baby? you wanna be a good girl for me, hmm?" he whispers to your ear. and those words are enough to make you trip off the edge of the pleasure. "fuma..." you breathlessly called out his name after your climax hits you and feeling his seed spilling into your pussy.

"are you okay?" he asked, lowering you down to the floor as he had you wrapped in his arms. he reached for a tissue paper to clean you up. he helps you tidy up a bit of your hair- it's a bit disheveled.

"sorry about that, baby. i got a bit jealous over there." he apologises. "no, fuma, that's okay." you said. "let's get you dressed back, shall we? we need to be presentable to the others." he said. you nodded, dressing yourself back up.

a few minutes after, you two went out of the room and went back to the same room his other friends are waiting. "that took you two a long time." nicholas said. "we had an argument earlier. however, we have solved it." fuma lied.

luckily everyone believed that lie. it would be embarassing if someone doesn't.

#🌼🧡 shirayuricky 100 #&team smut #andteam smut #&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #andteam hard hours #andteam hard thoughts #&team fuma smut #fuma smut #andteam fuma smut

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yourstrqly · 9 months ago

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. ⋆⠀⁺ BURN YOUR FINGERTIPS / library

jenson button x reader

when jenson sends you letter after letter, you give him attention and a part of your heart but does he handle it carefully or are you one of the girls?

jenson button holds the reputation of being a notorious flirt because of his natural charm, the smooth contact of finger gazing on the other person's arm or back, and the effortless comfort of fitting in any situation, wherever he knows the people or not. he's a winner in that sense, can never stops himself to talk to whoever is available.

the brit could charm his way out of an interview, literally anything, if we're being honest.

you, on the other hand, are simpler, much more introverted and less likely to be interested in chatting with absolte strangers. this isn't your kind of thing, though it doesn't mean you'll sit quietly in a group sitting. it's depending on the people you surround yourself with, the current mood and how low your social battery is.

so the letter attached to a small box does surprise you but you don't think too much about it as you have to rush out of your door to get your bus. the gifts rest in your right hand and the other closes the door. you can't be arsed to wait for the next bus, which will leave in about an hour — you just want to buy a few groceries and maybe browse through the local bookshop.

on the way to the bus station, you stuff the box in your bag and open the letter. the first thing you notice is the texture of the paper — it doesn't feel as light as the conventional paper used for everything and it's more grainy and slightly yellowish, remainding you of handmade paper your sibling and you did with your grandparents summers ago. you unfold it. your name is written down with a dearest in front of it, making you heart tumble in your chest, eyes fleeting downwards, where the writer's name stands. jenson b.

his words are sweet and the invite is welcoming you like a warm embrace. he gives fantastic hugs.

but there's a big fat why swirling in your head.

sure, you both work in the same field, enjoying racing, especially formula one racing, however that's the only comment ground. and mark. but that's all.

you've never been alone with him, never talked without anyone else there, never exchanged personal information and desires.

he must be enchanted by you, but why? and how?

the whole thing is seems like a crush type of situation, you've experienced at the age of fourteen to sixteen on several classmates and other students.

at home you open the small box carefully, tracing the beads made out of porcelain. a beautiful piece which fits right into your collection. you snap a picture of it, dangling from your wrist, to send it to the gifter, who's number you don't have. instagram will have to do the trick.

the following day, you come home to another small box sitting on your doormat, a letter underneath it. this time the beads aren't the usual white but multicoloured, glowing in the dim light the lamp spends.

like the first letter, jenson has used the same textured paper and asks for a date, number attached. you're quick to agree, shooting him a message to which he responds in the next few minutes.

in only a few days, he's standing outside of your flat, your favourite flowers in one hand, wearing a lose button down and dress pants. jenson looks good, and if he wasn't your coworker you'd totally invite him in after the dinner date.

as you've already expected, jenson is the ideal date, table booked at a cute restaurant with a nice view and you have your fun sharing lots of different appetisers. you feel great and comfortable, laughing at his silly jokes though you can move on more serious topics without hindering the flow. and the end of the night, the brit drives you home and you find another letter in your handbag, doodles on the side.

maybe this is how it's supposed to be.

when you run into jense at work, quite literally like shoulders slamming against each other, you feel his hand brush yours and the weight of a paper note between your fingers.

"hey jense", you mumble, happiness floating your body at the sight of the man. there's a bright smile on his thin lips and his hair looks fluffy as if he woke up just minutes ago. "you look good."

"but not as good as you, sweets", he cooes, "can't compete with a beauty like you. did you get my letter?"

you nod. "couse I did. you should think about writing a booklet about love poems, they're phenomenal."

"then they wouldn't be from the depth of my heart." He winks before continuing his walk down the paddock, fingers brushing his hair away to the side. his tall figure weaves effortlessly though the throng of mechanics, media personal and other workers, and you start to miss him again.

the note in your hand reads "you have a place in my heart no one else ever could have" and you immediately know its by fitzgerald, a topic discussed on the phone nights ago.

you receive another letter but don't see the man himself for two weeks. only three weeks after you get a glimpse of him across the garages, chatting up a woman your age from a different team. she's blushing, eyes fluttering every few seconds and giggles leave her mouth as jenson touches her elbow, before handing her a letter.

its the same tone of paper, probably the exact material.

at the sight your heart shatters and you feel used, a part of his game, weaving girl after girl 'round his finger.

sure, you know and have already known beforehand of his reputation though he has a way to make someone feel special, treats them lovingly, which let's you forget about it. you thought you were different, close to his heart, but he moves on, giving every willing woman a place in his heart another woman had already filled before her. its a cycle and you are a part of it.

what happens next is your decision — move on or confront him?

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine

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soloroomies · 8 months ago

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lifemate (Chapter 2/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: the continuation of your previous discussion word count. 1.3k cw. marriage pact au a/n. hey! so this is a quick update for the chapter 2! We're getting to the main plot ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

Masterlist

Weeks have passed since your last meet-up with Komori and Kiyoomi. Life gets hectic, and you find yourself drowning in work. You pride yourself on being an independent woman, but there are moments when you wish you could take an easier route. Being a sugar baby sounds good. That kind of sugar baby service is still considered independent woman work, though? Like, you earn your own money by doing something, right? You can’t help but laugh at the thought.

After completing a particularly demanding deadline task, you decide it's time to take a break and refresh yourself with a cup of coffee. It is a good opportunity to stretch your legs and clear your mind. You choose to walk to one of your favorite cafes in town, conveniently close to your apartment, and a perfect spot to unwind.

Ordering your usual latte and grabbing a croissant as a delightful companion to your coffee, you settle down at a table near the window. Deciding to stay a while in the cafe because the weather is nice and you don’t want to go back to your apartment just yet. It still reminds you too much about the complicated task you just finished.

As you sit there, contemplating whether to check your phone or simply enjoy the view outside, the doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of a new customer. You glance up and see a familiar figure entering the cafe. It is Kiyoomi, sporting a black hoodie and khaki shorts. Despite the mask covering his face, you recognize his distinctive build, curly hair, and the moles on his forehead. Initially, you think he might not notice you, but his eyes soon lock onto yours. Surprised yet delighted by the unexpected encounter, you wave enthusiastically, prompting a wave back from Kiyoomi as he proceeds to order his food at the counter.

With your latte and croissant now in hand, you begin to sip and savor your treat, basking in the calm ambiance of the cafe. Moments later, Sakusa walks over and takes a seat next to you. "Hey! What brings you here?" you ask, curious about his sudden appearance.

Removing his mask and adjusting his hair, Sakusa replies, "I'm just checking something at that sportswear shop and decide to drop by here for a bit. I like the coffee here."

You nod in understanding, recalling that you recommended that particular sportswear shop to him years ago. It seems that the shop has become his go-to place for his sportswear needs.

It is still noon on a Saturday, and despite the casual atmosphere, he looks as though he has just finished practice. His hair is still a bit damp from a shower, and he carries a fresh, clean scent—something masculine with hints of woody and musky notes.

“Did you just finish your practice?” you ask Sakusa.

“Yes. We have some practice matches coming up soon. What about you? What brings you here?” he replies.

“I just wrapped up some tasks and needed a break to refresh a bit,” you respond.

As Sakusa's order arrives, the two of you chat about your current side jobs and his upcoming matches. Suddenly, he confides, “My parents ask me again to introduce a girl to them.”

You stare at him for a moment. This is a topic that has been brought up before by Komori. Komori used to say that Sakusa’s parents are pretty hopeful about his future relationship, hoping that their son would have his own family. You can’t really blame his parents. They are like your parents, a traditional generation that values marriage. They are scared their child will end up unloved, alone, and unhappy if they don’t get married.

Sakusa never tells you this before, so you’re quite surprised by his confession now.

“Welp, it’s about time for us, right? To get those kinds of questions from the parents,” you sigh. Sakusa nods.

You continue, “It’s kinda crazy, and I don’t know whether our age is classified as old or not. I’m not in a rush or anything. Even though it’s a different case for my parents.”

Your parents are not too harsh about it, but there’s a bit of prodding here and there. You want to build your own family someday. Really. It just seems impossible right now. If you want to be ready and have a real connection with someone before getting married, it might take a few years for even yourself to be ready. And how long will it take for the relationship to be ready for marriage? You don’t really know. The chance for it succeeding isn’t even a hundred percent.

Suddenly, you’re reminded again of your discussions a few weeks ago with Sakusa and Komori. This parents stuff adds a plus point to your list of reasons why being married might be really convenient for you.

You turn to Sakusa and see a slight frown on his face. “What do you think about the marriage pact stuff we talked about the other day with Mori?” he asks tentatively. Your eyes widen, kinda surprised that he thinks about that discussion too.

“I– I’m not– I honestly don’t think that’s a bad idea…” you answer nervously, looking down at your food. You see Sakusa in the corner of your eye turn his head in your direction.

“But,” you add, “I don’t want to hinder you from meeting someone who could be your true love, your ‘one,’ you know? Do you understand what I mean?”

“I don’t really get the idea of the one. And the same thing goes for you. I don’t want to hinder you as well,” he answers.

“No, Omi. It’s different. It’s like…” you clear your throat. “You have way better chances than me to meet any girl you want. You have this wide social reach. It’s a different circumstance for me. Yes, I go to the office and stuff. But office romances just never work for me. And I work a lot at home too.”

“Hey, you said about wide reach and everything like you don’t know me.” Sakusa stares intently at you. You’re silent for a moment. Of course, you forgot the important details about him. You know better that he’s not that easy-going of a person. But still…

"Okay, how about this. We'll see in two years," you suggest, trying to keep your tone light yet sincere.

Sakusa looks at you with a hint of confusion. "What?"

"Let’s make this pact. This marriage pact or whatever. If in two years we haven’t met anyone, then… let's just get married?"

His eyes widen slightly, then he nods. "Deal. I’ll remember this."

"Okay."

To your surprise, Sakusa takes out his phone and starts tapping away.

"What are you doing?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"Making a reminder," Sakusa replies nonchalantly.

"Of this, of course." You peek at his phone and see that he sets the reminder exactly on New Year's Day, two years away.

"Wow. New Year? Why?"

"Yeah. So that we can arrange and organize everything at the beginning of the year. I hope that if we get married, it will be done before the volleyball season."

You raise your eyebrows, realizing how serious he is about this. Shit. This is getting serious.

"You know, if we get married… it’s okay if you don’t want to work anymore," Sakusa states casually.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. "Omi! Please, I don’t want to burden you like that. And I seriously never expect something like that from you."

"Hey, it’s okay. I mean, you can do anything you like. You can just have your main job or even just your side job or whatever." You stare at him incredulously. What started as a light conversation about the convenience of marriage, to split the rent with someone, now has the possibility to actually happen. What the actual fuck?

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levisolace · 4 months ago

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[6] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 6: Busy Nights

WC: 6664 Chapter Warnings: just angst again Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: Levi POV in this chapter !! ^^ Oh, and unfortunately, there will probably no update until after the 17th of October. I have uni exams and my study schedule is clashing with work so I probably won't time have time to write until then. See you until then! (We're gonna get more angsty and a little steamy(?) when I come back, I promise.) check out the expandable hearts playlist here!

story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter

Over the next few days, you found yourself checking your phone more than usual, a small flicker of anticipation stirring each time you saw a new message. On Wednesday afternoon, Kuchel finally texted you the details of the dinner, and to your surprise, it wasn’t at the restaurant.

Would dinner at my place this Thursday be good? 7PM. Just us. Don’t bring anything—just yourself. See you then. —Kuchel

You stared at the message for a moment, blinking. Kuchel’s home? You hadn’t expected something so personal, but it made sense. After all, this wasn’t just any casual dinner. It was a reunion, an intimate moment to reconnect outside the hustle and noise of her now-bustling restaurant.

A mix of emotions bubbled up as you responded with a quick response.

Sounds perfect. I’ll be there.

As the dinner date drew closer, you found yourself thinking about Kuchel more than you expected. Memories from the time you worked at her small, then unassuming restaurant resurfaced—late nights closing up, chats over coffee while you helped her organize orders, Levi’s rare moments of humor in between his sharp instructions. It all seemed so distant now, like a chapter of your life that belonged to someone else.

A couple of minutes after confirming the dinner with Kuchel, another message buzzed on your phone, pulling you from the stack of legal documents you’d been reviewing. You glanced at the screen and saw Hange’s name pop up and you remember she has been pestering you about her bachelorette party. She kept sending the same message everyday for the past week.

Heyyy! Guess what? You’re invited to my bachelorette party! 🎉🎉 It’s going to be WILD. Be there, or I’ll hunt you down!! This Saturday at 8 PM. The details are attached here. Can’t wait to see you!!

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you read the message. Hange hadn’t changed one bit. She always had this vibrant energy that could light up any room, and apparently, she was bringing that energy to her bachelorette party. The thought of attending the event tugged at something inside you—an old camaraderie, a time when things were simpler, messier, but undeniably fun.

The idea of being surrounded by familiar faces again—of slipping back into that old rhythm—both excited and unsettled you. But Hange’s invitation was impossible to refuse. She had a way of pulling people into her orbit, and you knew this wouldn’t be any ordinary night. Besides, Levi won’t be there anyway.

As the day unfolded, the prospect of Kuchel’s dinner and Hange’s bachelorette party loomed closer, each event pulling you back into the life you once had here. It felt as though the city, with all its memories and relationships, was welcoming you back in layers—one familiar face at a time. And you don’t even know if you deserved it.

—

When the evening finally arrived, you made your way to Kuchel’s home, which was tucked into a quiet neighborhood just a few blocks away from the restaurant. The walk there felt almost surreal, the streets of Stohess now familiar yet filled with memories. When you arrived, you found the house just as warm and inviting as the woman who owned it.

Kuchel’s home was modest, but there was a charm to it—plants lining the windowsills, warm lights glowing from inside, and the faint scent of cooking wafting out the front door. You took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there she was, smiling as though no time had passed at all.

“You made it,” Kuchel said, her voice bright as she stepped aside to let you in. “Come on in, the food’s almost ready.”

You stepped inside, taking in the cozy, lived-in feel of the space. Photos lined the walls, some of Levi as a boy, and others of what seemed to be old family gatherings. The warmth of the place wrapped around you, instantly putting you at ease.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” you said softly, looking around.

Kuchel smiled as she led you into the kitchen, where a simple but delicious-smelling meal was simmering on the stove. “I figured it’d be nice to have dinner somewhere quiet. We can talk without the restaurant noise, and besides, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you for a long time.”

As you took a seat at her kitchen table, Kuchel poured you a glass of wine, her movements graceful and familiar. “It’s been too long. You’ve done so much since you left, and I want to hear everything.”

You smiled, settling into the moment. “There’s a lot to catch up on,” you admitted. “But I want to hear about you, too. Kuchel’s has grown so much—I couldn’t believe it when I saw how busy it was the other night.”

Kuchel laughed softly as she joined you at the table. “Levi deserves most of the credit for that. He’s been the driving force behind the expansion. I never imagined we’d get this far, honestly. But enough about work—for tonight, let’s treat each other like the old times.”

You took a sip of your wine, feeling the warmth of the room and the comfort of Kuchel’s presence sink in. “It’s been a whirlwind,” you began, knowing that this evening would be one of reconnection, not just with Kuchel, but with the parts of yourself that you’d left behind when you moved away. You began to tell her what happened like how you tell it to everyone, how you left the city, moved your grandma, went to law school, how your grandma died, and how you began to work in Trost.

And as the night unfolded, with laughter and stories shared over a lovingly prepared meal, you realized how much you had missed this—missed her, and the sense of home that Kuchel had always provided.

As the dinner with Kuchel neared its end, the conversation had drifted from light-hearted reminiscing to more personal territory. You both shared a bottle of wine, laughter mixing with memories, but there was a point where the ease of the evening gave way to something deeper. Kuchel, always observant, seemed to notice the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you hesitated before answering certain questions.

She set her glass down, her expression softening as the last bit of warmth from the meal filled the quiet space between you. “I’m really glad you’re back,” she said, her voice gentle but with an edge of seriousness. “You were with someone else when I first saw you but it’s been plaguing my mind so I came to ask you to meet me. I’m sorry, dear… I have to ask, how are you really doing?”

You looked down at your plate for a moment, the weight of the question settling in. Kuchel had always been able to read you, even when you didn’t want to be read. She wasn’t one for surface-level small talk—not with you.

“I’m fine,” you started, instinctively offering the answer you’d given everyone else. But Kuchel’s eyes didn’t waver, and the sincerity of her gaze made you pause. She wasn’t letting you get away with that.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her voice a little softer now. “I know it’s been a long time, and I don’t expect you to spill everything right now… but I can see it. You’ve been through something. So, how have you really been?”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time all night, you felt exposed. You hadn’t planned on opening up—not tonight, maybe not ever—but something about Kuchel’s quiet persistence, her maternal presence, made you feel safe enough to let the guard down.

“You know—and don’t tell Levi I told you this but… when the breakup happened, Levi didn’t take it well. And I never got to talk to you about it. But if Levi experienced that… it was probably bad for you too, wasn’t it?” She reached for your hand across the table, placing a comforting hand on yours, and caressing it with care and love of a mother.

It took all of you to control your emotions right there and then. For Kuchel to say this, the curiosity of what Levi endured during those times that you broke things off and what happened to everyone after you left only became stronger, accompanied with greater guilt that you have always been carrying. You look away and take a deep breath, setting your own glass aside. “I… it was hard for me too, I admit.”

Kuchel nodded, not interrupting, just listening in that patient way of hers. It encouraged you to continue.

“When I left, it was all I could think of doing. But it feels like I just ran. Away from here, from everything. And now that I’m back, it’s like… all of it is catching up to me, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

You hadn’t meant to be so honest, but once the words started spilling out, it was hard to stop. Kuchel listened intently, her eyes filled with understanding, but she didn’t say anything right away.

“I knew there was more under the surface,” she said softly. “You’ve always been strong, but sometimes it’s okay to stop carrying it all alone. I can see it’s hard to tell what really happened and I—we can wait. There’s still people that love you here. You can find your way back to them.”

Her words hit deeper than you expected, and for the first time in a while, you felt a small sense of relief—a release of the tension you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It was comforting, having someone like Kuchel, who knew you before the layers of adulthood and responsibility piled on.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Kuchel smiled warmly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But don’t keep it bottled up either. You’ve got people here who care, people who are still part of your life—whether it’s me, or Hange, or whoever else. Don’t be a stranger.”

You nodded, feeling the sincerity in her words settle over you like a warm blanket. There was something about the way she said it that made you believe it.

The evening ended on a note of quiet understanding, Kuchel walking you to the door with a promise to see each other again soon. As you stepped out into the night, the weight on your shoulders felt just a little lighter, knowing that at least here, in this corner of your past, you had someone who understood—someone who saw through the cracks and cared enough to reach out.

—

After saying your goodbyes to Kuchel and leaving her cozy home, the cool night air greeted you as you stepped out of the cab in front of your apartment. The streets were quiet, only the occasional flicker of distant headlights passing by, the buzz from your dinner still lingering in your mind. Kuchel's words played over and over in your head—her gentle insistence that you didn’t have to carry everything alone. You felt lighter, as if some invisible weight had been lifted, but also heavy with the realization that coming back to the city meant dealing with more than just the people from your past. It meant facing the reality that this is the present–your current situation, something you can no longer run away from.

As you rounded the corner of your street, something caught your eye—a familiar silhouette, leaning casually against the building. At first, you thought you were imagining it, the streetlights casting long shadows that distorted the figure. But as you approached, the figure became clearer, the unmistakable stance of someone you hadn't expected to see, but somehow weren’t surprised by.

Levi.

He stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was a tension in his posture that told you this wasn’t just a casual visit. His dark eyes flicked up as you approached, locking onto yours with the same intensity you remembered. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words.

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you intended, but firm enough to mask the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside you.

Levi pushed off from the wall, standing straighter as he took a few slow steps toward you.

"How was the dinner?" he asked, the words falling out more out of habit than genuine curiosity. He didn't need to know about the dinner, not really. He just needed to say something.

“You knew?” You blinked, surprised that he even knew about it. Then you remembered, of course—Levi was always aware of things, especially when it came to Kuchel. He probably knew you'd be seeing her tonight even if she didn’t tell him.

"It was nice," you said, carefully, as if you were trying not to give too much away. "Kuchel’s doing well."

Levi nodded, his gaze shifting for a second, as though considering whether to say something more. But instead, he settled on something simple. "Good."

Another silence stretched between you, longer this time. It was clear he wasn’t going to explain why he’d really come. Maybe you didn’t need to ask—maybe it didn’t matter. But the tension between you felt thick, almost suffocating. The years apart hadn’t erased anything. You can still feel the immeasurable amount of love he has for his mother. In honesty, you’d expected him to be angry that you reconnected with Kuchel. But of course, this was Levi. If it’s mother’s happiness or want, he would never question or fault her for it.

Levi nodded, staring down at the ground for a beat, shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets. There was no reason for him to stay, but he lingered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of the city around you both.

"You didn’t have to come all the way out here," you said, breaking the silence, your voice soft but carrying a note of hesitation. You didn’t ask him outright why he was there, but it was implied.

Levi shrugged, his eyes meeting yours briefly before drifting off again. "Maybe I did."

You swallowed, not sure how to respond to that. For all of Levi’s usual bluntness, there was always something deeper that he never quite let show. Something that made it impossible to fully walk away from him, even when you thought you had.

“Get some rest,” Levi said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost softer. “You look awful.”

He gave you a curt nod and turned to walk away, leaving you standing there, feeling like something had just shifted between you. Something unspoken, unresolved, and maybe destined to remain that way.

—

The night of Hange’s bachelorette party arrived with the kind of energy that made the air feel electric. You stood outside the venue, a trendy rooftop bar in the heart of the city, the neon lights of Stohess Street reflected in the glass walls behind you. The place had been transformed—streamers, lights, and enough champagne to fill a small pool. You took a deep breath before stepping inside, knowing that wherever Hange was, chaos was sure to follow.

As you entered, you were immediately hit by a wave of laughter, music, and the unmistakable sound of Hange’s voice ringing out over the crowd. The space was filled with friends, both familiar faces and new ones, all gathered to celebrate. You spotted her almost immediately—Hange was at the center of the room, a crown of flowers on her head and a glass of champagne in hand, already in full party mode.

“There she is!” Hange’s voice rang out as she spotted you from across the room, her face lighting up as she waved you over. She was wearing a sash that read “Bride-to-Be” in glittering letters, and her energy was contagious. “I thought you’d never make it! Come here!”

You smiled, weaving through the crowd of partygoers to reach her. Before you could say a word, Hange pulled you into a tight hug, nearly spilling her champagne in the process.

“I told you it’d be wild!” she laughed, stepping back to take you in. “Look at you! You clean up well.”

“Thanks, Hange,” you said, unable to help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. “This is… a lot.”

“Only the best for my bachelorette!” she declared, spinning around to show off the venue. “We’ve got drinks, food, and games—oh, and don’t forget the karaoke later.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Karaoke?”

Hange grinned wickedly. “Oh yeah, it’s happening. And you will sing, my friend.”

Before you could protest, Nanaba appeared beside you, already holding a glass of champagne for you. “She’s not kidding about the karaoke. Start thinking of your song now,” she teased, handing you the glass. “Long time no see, girl.”

You took it, laughing softly. “Oh my god, Nanaba,” you greet her with a hug. She hugs you back.

Everyone began to greet you. Out of all the attendees, you only knew Nanaba who thankfully treated you kindly like it hasn’t been years since you’ve last seen each other. Tonight, it will all be about Hange, that’s what she said.

The party was in full swing, with drinks flowing and people chatting in every corner. You settled into the crowd, reminiscing about college days with Nanaba and meeting new girls, but the chaotic energy of the evening was starting to grow on you. Every time you glanced at Hange, she was in the middle of some new adventure—whether it was a game, making an impromptu speech, or trying to rope someone into a dance-off.

As the night went on, you found yourself at the bar, taking a moment to breathe. That’s when Hange sidled up beside you, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So,” she started, leaning on the bar, “I heard you and Levi ran into each other recently.”

You froze for a second, surprised she’d brought it up. Of course, Hange would know. “Yeah… he returned something I forgot in his car,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hange raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your casual tone. “Oh, just a handkerchief? Interesting.”

You gave her a look. “It was nothing. We barely talked.” While we were having dinner, that is, you thought.

“Sure,” she said with a teasing grin. “Well, just so you know, I mixed that drink myself.”

You stared at her, caught off guard. “Of course you did.”

She laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What? It’s my party! I want everyone to have fun. Besides, it’ll be fun for everyone to let loose. Don’t worry, it’s not as dangerous as the ones I made from college. I’ve practiced a lot over the years.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Hange always had a way of stirring the pot, even when she didn’t mean to. Before you could respond, she was pulled away by a group of friends, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment.

The night wore on, and as promised, karaoke eventually took over the party. You found yourself dragged into a group rendition of some 90s throwback song, with Hange leading the charge and everyone laughing so hard they could barely keep up with the lyrics. It was chaotic, messy, and exactly what you’d expected from a night like this.

As you looked around at the familiar faces, the laughter, and the whirlwind energy of the party, you felt a strange sense of belonging—a feeling you hadn’t realized you’d missed until now. It was like stepping back into a part of yourself you’d left behind, and for the first time in a while, you felt like maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to be back. Or maybe that was the alcohol in your system. You feel like you’re about to crash out soon.

The party didn’t start winding down until the early hours of the morning, when even Hange began to show signs of exhaustion. You were one of the last to leave, standing on the rooftop as the city stretched out beneath you, barely alive with the hum of nightlife. The reason you didn’t leave yet is because your alcohol tolerance betrayed you. You fear that if you go home alone, you’d pass out on the street and wake up god knows where.

Hange caught up to you once more as you stood, leaning on the tall railings. “Hey,” she said, her tone more serious now, though still light. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me, you know? Having you back here.”

You smiled, feeling the sincerity in her words. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Good,” she said, giving you a lopsided grin before pulling you into one last hug. “Now get home and sleep. We’ve got more partying to do at the wedding.”

“Actually, can you grab me a cab? I don’t think I can book a ride on my phone at my state.” Your words are slurring off with a soft laugh as you talk, trying to pull out your phone out of your pocket only to find it empty. “Oh, other pocket,” you murmured incoherently as you finally had your phone in your hand.

You look up to already see Hange grinning at you, her cheeks flushed with the excitement of the night. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Already taken care of.”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What do you mean?”

Hange gave you a look that was somewhere between mischievous and knowing, her eyes twinkling with that signature glint she always got when she knew she was meddling in something. “I called someone to pick you up.”

Your stomach dropped, and a sense of foreboding crept into your drunken haze. “Who?” you asked, dreading the answer.

“For fuck’s sake, Hange.”

For one good second, you sobered up, chills filling your entire body when you heard his voice. You look in his direction, already walking up to the two of you. He’s wearing a black jacket and jeans, his hair a little tousled by the windy air of the rooftop.

“I thought you’d know better than drinking Hange’s mix,” he directly spoke to you now, arms crossed in disappointment. Him standing in front of you hit you like a splash of cold water. You blinked a few times, as if you don’t believe what you’re seeing in front of you.

“Levi? You called Levi?” is what you would’ve said if you could even make some words out of your drunken mouth. You let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the situation settle in your already tipsy mind. The way Levi is seeing you right now—drunk, disoriented, and in this state—is too humiliating, but it was too late to argue. Hange had made her decision without consulting you, and there was no undoing it now, with him already standing in front of you.

Hange laughed, patting you on the back. “Welp, here’s your designated driver. Moblit’s on his way to fetch me so you two go on ahead.”

With that, Hange left the two of you alone by the railings. The two of you stood there in silence. The long-sleeved shirt you wore does nothing for the chilly night, you wrap your arms tightly around yourself as the cold night air sobered you up just enough to feel the awkwardness building. Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned on the railing, trying to steady yourself.

He approached you closer, his usual unreadable expression giving nothing away. “You good to go, or do I need to carry you to the car?” he asked, his voice dry but not unkind.

You blinked, trying to pull yourself together, but you could still feel the alcohol buzzing in your system. “I can walk,” you muttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks despite the cool air.

Levi’s lips twitched ever so slightly at your response, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Sure you can.”

You huff, trying to walk away from him. You swayed slightly on your feet, your mind racing with a mixture of embarrassment and dread as you head to the elevator. Levi followed closely behind you. Whenever you feel like you’re about to lose your stance, you’d feel a slight graze of a hand on your back. He never touches you. But you’re awfully aware of his presence behind you.

The two of you waited in front of the elevator in silence. You don’t look at Levi. You feel like your face is going to be redder than it already is if you look at his handsome face. And what was he wearing? Did he go somewhere? Why does he look like that? It’s so unfair. He’s so hot. The all black fit always hits you differently, the alcohol is not helping either.

Just as the elevator doors open, something draped on your shoulders. Levi’s jacket. “Wear it. You look like you’re gonna freeze to death.”

As the two of you go in, due to actually feeling like you’re going to freeze to death, you don’t complain and wear his jacket. The smell of his cologne fills your nose and you bury yourself in the warmth of it.

"You look like you’ve had a rough night," he said, his voice flat but with a hint of dry amusement.

You huffed out a breath, leaning your elbows on the railing again. “It wasn’t supposed to end with you showing up.” You paused for a moment. “Thanks for coming… but you didn’t have to. I could’ve called a cab.”

Levi shrugged, glancing over at the view of the city in front of you. “You were drunk, and she called me. Simple as that.”

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing with him. “Yeah, I guess.”

He glanced at you, taking in the way you leaned a little too heavily against the wall, the faint pink flush on your cheeks. As the two of you stood there, the awkward silence between you grew. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an underlying tension—one that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

You made it to the lobby and then outside of the building, the cool air of the outside world hitting you like a fresh wave of another cold. Levi led the way to his car parked just outside, and you hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and reluctance.

When you reached the car, Levi opened the passenger door for you, motioning for you to get in. You do as he says, slipping into the passenger seat. The ride was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between you as he drove through the city streets, which had quieted down in the late hours. You stared out the window, watching the lights of the buildings blur as you passed by.

Levi finally broke the silence, his voice soft but steady. “Hange said you were having fun tonight.”

You let out a small laugh, still feeling the god-awful drink swirling in your veins. “Yeah, I was… surprisingly”

He glanced at you briefly. “Parties weren't really your thing.”

“Neither are late-night rescues,” you replied, shooting him a half-smile.

Levi’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile you’d seen from him all night. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, the weight of the night settling over you as your eyelids grew heavy. The rhythmic hum of the car and the gentle motion of the drive lulled you into a deeper state of relaxation. The alcohol in your system had finally caught up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyes grew heavier with each passing minute. You leaned your head against the cool window, the blur of city lights fading as your consciousness began to slip.

You barely registered Levi glancing over at you from the driver's seat. His expression, ever unreadable, softened slightly as he noticed your slow, even breathing. He kept driving for a few more minutes, but when he pulled up in front of your apartment building and turned off the engine, you didn’t stir.

—

Levi sat there for a moment, staring at you, your body curled up in the passenger seat, completely oblivious to the world around you. The faint rise and fall of your chest was the only sound in the quiet of the car. He let out a small sigh, looking around the area of your building as he considered his options. There were still some people outside in the streets. The underground never slept, filled with drunktards and no-good doers.

After a moment of hesitation, Levi made his decision. Getting you inside your apartment, trying to find your keys, and getting you up the steep and unpaved stairs—all of it seemed like too much for someone in your condition.

Without another word, Levi drove off your apartment and to his own home where you’ll be more comfortable. After he parked his car, Levi got out of the car and came around to your side. He opened the passenger door quietly and leaned down, carefully sliding one arm beneath your legs and the other around your back. You stirred slightly as he lifted you, your head resting against his chest as he effortlessly carried you out of the car. The smell of alcohol fills his nose but it didn’t bother him one bit. His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure not to wake you as he adjusted your weight in his arms.

You murmured something incoherent, your head shifting slightly as you nestled closer against him. Levi froze for a second, his gaze flickering down to you, but when you didn’t wake, he continued walking toward his building.

Once inside, Levi carried you up the stairs to his apartment. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the street lamps outside. He shifted you gently in his arms to open the door, then stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click. He made his way through the familiar space, heading toward his bedroom.

Levi laid you down carefully on his bed, pulling back the covers as he positioned you comfortably on the mattress. You stirred again, this time more aware, your eyes fluttering open briefly as you tried to figure out where you were. Your vision was blurry, your mind still fogged with sleep and alcohol, but you recognized the familiar scent of Levi’s apartment.

"Levi?" you mumbled, your voice hoarse with sleep.

He was already adjusting the blanket over you, making sure you were covered and comfortable. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said quietly, his voice unusually soft. “Go back to sleep.”

You blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation, but exhaustion pulled at you like a weight. Your body relaxed into the bed, the warmth of the blankets lulling you back to the edge of unconsciousness. “This isn’t… my place…” you muttered, but even as you said it, your eyes were closing again.

“I know,” Levi replied, stepping back slightly as he watched you. “You fell asleep in the car.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into the mattress. “Yeah…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as sleep finally overtook you.

As Levi carefully tucked the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable, he turned to leave the room. But just as he was about to pull away, he felt a gentle tug on his arm.

In your half-conscious state, your fingers had wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. He froze, staring down at you, his heartbeat quickening unexpectedly. Your eyes were still closed, your breathing slow and steady, but your grip was firm—gentle, yet desperate, as though some part of you, even in sleep, didn’t want him to leave.

“Stay… please…” you whispered, your voice barely audible but enough to make Levi’s breath catch.

He wasn’t sure if you were dreaming or fully aware of what you were saying, but the soft plea reached him. You shifted slightly, your hand sliding up his arm as you pulled him closer, nestling into the blankets. “hold me…” you murmured, the vulnerability in your voice tugging at something deep inside him.

Levi’s body went rigid, his mind torn between his instinct to distance himself and the raw emotion in your voice. He had never been good with moments like this—moments that demanded more than what he was used to offering. But the way you clung to him, even unconsciously, made it difficult to simply pull away. It reminded him of old, easier times.

With a quiet sigh, Levi gave in. He gently sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you too much. His movements were slow, uncertain, but deliberate. He stretched out beside you, keeping a small distance at first, though your hand never let go of him.

As you sensed his presence closer, you relaxed, instinctively shifting so that your head rested lightly against his chest. The tension in your body melted as you let out a soft, contented sigh, your hand still gripping his shirt as if afraid he might disappear.

Levi lay there, still and silent, staring up at the ceiling, his heart beating faster than usual. He didn’t know what to do with his free arm, but eventually, he let it settle around your shoulder, holding you with a gentleness that surprised even him. The scent of your hair and the warmth of your body against his was oddly calming, despite the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind.

The room was quiet, save for your slow, steady breathing. Levi glanced down at you, watching the peaceful expression on your face, the way your brow had unfurled and your lips parted slightly in sleep. You looked vulnerable, and yet completely at ease.

For a brief moment, Levi allowed himself to relax, too. He wasn’t sure what this meant—this sudden closeness but as you snuggled into him, your body warm against his, he let himself be present in the moment.

Just for tonight, he told himself. Just for now.

As the minutes passed, Levi found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. Your face was serene in sleep, the tension from the day and the alcohol completely dissolved. He hadn't seen you like this in a long time—peaceful, unguarded. There was something deeply comforting in watching you like this, something that stirred memories he had long buried. Only now was he able to stare at your face without fearing he’d crumble in front of you. The darkness under your eyes tells everyone that you’re tired but the years have painted a maturity in your face that didn’t take away your beauty.

His eyes traced the familiar lines of your features—the way your lashes rested softly on your cheeks, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of your breathing, and Levi’s thoughts seemed to drift along with it. He wasn’t one to dwell on the past, but here, beside you, he couldn’t help but think of everything that had happened between you two—what you had been, what you could have been.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but a deep, unspoken longing began to rise in his chest, a feeling he had been trying to ignore ever since the night he had shown up outside your apartment without a reason. The closeness of you, the way you had unconsciously reached for him, pulled at something deep inside him.

His gaze softened, lingering on your parted lips, the way your hair spilled across the pillow, framing your face. Slowly, as if drawn by some invisible force, he found himself leaning in closer. His heart began to pound louder, an unfamiliar rush of emotions building within him, making his movements feel almost inevitable.

He told himself to stop, to pull back before he crossed a line. But as his face hovered just inches above yours, he was overwhelmed by the quiet intimacy of the moment. The warmth of your breath brushed against his skin, and his pulse quickened. You were so close, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would feel like—to close that final distance, to press his lips against yours once again.

He hesitated, his breath hitching as his eyes traced your sleeping face. You looked so peaceful, so trusting, curled up against him. And yet, in that moment, the weight of what was unsaid between you—the unresolved tension, the memories, the regrets—hung in the air.

Levi’s hand, which had been resting lightly on your shoulder, twitched as he fought the urge to touch you, to run his fingers through your hair, to let his guard down completely. But just as he was about to give in to the moment, he stopped himself.

A faint sigh escaped him as he pulled back, his forehead creasing with conflict. He couldn’t do it—not like this. Not while you were asleep and unaware. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and he knew better than to act on fleeting impulses, no matter how strong they felt in the moment.

With a deep breath, Levi settled back onto the pillow, keeping his arm around you but maintaining the distance between your faces. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing, the weight of the unspoken emotions pressing heavily on his chest.

As you shifted slightly in your sleep, your hand still clutching his shirt, Levi closed his eyes, trying to push away the longing that had nearly overtaken him.

But the truth lingered, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it: after all these years, he had never really let you go.

He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of concern and something else flickering in his eyes before he carefully stood up from the bed, turned and quietly walked into his bathroom. He got two things, a cleanser and some cotton.

He walked back to the bed, seeing you sleeping soundly. Gently, he sat down beside you and began to wipe the makeup off your face. He’s careful not to wake you, not applying too much pressure. He’s seen you do this back in college, telling him that makeup should always be removed before bed. If he could change your clothes he would as well. But you looked comfortable enough in his jacket.

Levi walked back into the living room when he was done, his mind oddly restless despite the quiet of the apartment. He sat down on the couch, staring out the window at the city lights outside, knowing that tonight had been different. He didn’t know why he had brought you here instead of waking you up or why he had come to fetch you in the first place. He didn’t know why he didn’t refuse Hange’s call knowing that you were together. He didn’t know why he even dressed up and ran to your side without question. There were a lot of things he didn’t know and didn’t understand. Most of all, he doesn’t understand how you still have a hold of him like this all over the years you were gone. And to be honest, it angered him but mostly, it scared him.

But as the minutes passed and the apartment remained still, he figured maybe it didn’t matter. And whatever questions you have, he'll figure it out tomorrow. For now, you were safe. And that was enough.

#levi x reader #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi imagine #levi fluff #levi x you #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk x reader #levi angst

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year ago

Text

He's A Pretty One: Part 2

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You’re visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

A/N: this became another impromptu mini series. There will be one more part after this!

Part 1

Gareth led you inside the seedy dive bar that he, Eddie, and the rest of the band play. The Hideout is remote from everywhere else, wedged in between an abandoned steel factory and a cornfield.

You try to keep a neutral face as you observe the few patrons, the dirty carpet, the tables and counters that look like they haven't been wiped down in decades.

Towards the front of the stage is a small wooden stage that looks like it could collapse any minute. At said stage, Jeff, Doug, and Eddie are bringing in their instruments and equipment.

"So this is the Hideout?" you ask even though you know the answer.

Gareth nods, "Yup! Isn't it great?!"

You snort and pat his shoulder, "Sure it is, Gare."

"GARETH! STOP CHIT CHATTING AND HELP!" Eddie yells from the stage.

Your cousin groans, "He's in a bad mood," he mumbles to you before heading towards the stage.

You stand there looking around the place and figure you could grab a drink. You walk up to the bar counter where a five-foot tall woman with maroon hair looks up in confusion.

"You're not a regular," she states plainly.

You cock a brow, "No...I'm not. Don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing."

The woman rolls her eyes, "Did you want something, kid?"

"Well you don't seem like you'd serve martinis here so I guess I'll take a beer."

The woman rolls her eyes again and grabs you a bottle of Coors and twists the cap off.

You turn and take a sip, leaning against the counter while the guys set up. Your eyes move from Gareth, Jeff, Doug, and finally land on Eddie. His brows are furrowed as he tunes his guitar. You're not sure what is it but he seems even hotter right now. Maybe it's the low lighting of the bar or maybe some weird chemicals from the old factory are getting in your system.

Feeling eyes on him, Eddie looks up and sees you staring his way. He smirks and gives you a wink before continuing to tune his guitar.

"Be careful around that one," the woman at the counter says.

You turn around and face the woman, "Whaddaya mean?"

She scoffs, "Just be careful around him. Junior's just like his dad. No good."

"No offense, lady, but I'm not sure you're a great judge of character considering," you gesture to the run down bar.

The woman looks at you unamused, "Just watch yourself around him."

"Around who?" Eddie asks, taking a spot beside you at the counter.

You smirk as you face him, "Word on the street is that you're bad news, pretty boy."

Eddie grins, "Bad news? Me?" he stands back, arms open wide, "Look at me. I'm an angel."

"So was Lucifer before he fell from Heaven."

"Touché," he states and you watch as he checks you out again with no subtlety, "So, we're all set up. You ready?"

"Like the goddess Pat Benatar once said, hit me with your best shot, Munson."

Eddie takes your hand and brings you to the front of the stage. He hops onto the wooden platform and yells into the mic, "Welcome to the Hideout, everyone! I'm Eddie Munson and we're Corroded Coffin!"

Gareth slams his drumsticks together and then begins to play with the rest of the guys.

You nod your head to the beat, eyes never wavering from Eddie as he sings and plays his guitar. He truly is mesmerizing when he's in his element.

As he sang, he kept his eyes on you. To be fair, there wasn't anyone else he could really look at besides the few drunkards littered around the bar. You're definitely the most attractive person here, aside from Eddie.

___________________________

After a few more songs, Eddie thanks the "crowd" and they end their set. He immediately hops down from the stage after gently setting down his guitar. He waltzes over to you with a proud grin, "So?"

You nod, "Not bad, Van Halen. You got a lot of potential."

"Thanks. There's someone who actually wants us to sign with a record label she works for, but we need to record a demo, which costs money. Hence me working in this shit hole," he gestures around and the woman yells from the counter, "I CAN FIRE YOU RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT!"

"Sorry, Bev!" he looks at you with a shrug, then nods to the bar, "Can I get you another drink? Or I can make one for you?"

You scrunch your nose up, "I'm good. Not sure if your boss there cleans the cups well."

Eddie chuckles, "Oh they're clean. I'm the one who does the dishes, not Bev."

"I'm good with this for now," you lift your beer bottle, still not finished because you were so focused on watching Eddie perform.

Eddie stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet, "Sooo...whatcha doing after this?"

"Going home? Eddie, it's almost midnight."

"So? There's the diner downtown that's open late. Just drop the brat off at home and we can go."

"Where are we going?" Gareth asks with a smile.

"You're going home. Eddie and I are gonna hang."

"Hang or ba-"

"Do you actually want know if I'm gonna bang your friend, Gareth?"

Your cousin grimaces, "God, no! Gross! Disgusting!"

"Get a grip, kid," Eddie shoves Gareth by the shoulder and your cousin stumbles back.

"Jeez. Okay. Well, we're packing up. Can I see your keys?" Eddie tosses him his keys and he goes to help Jeff and Doug lug the gear to Eddie's van.

You lean against the bar counter and look at Eddie with a cocked brow, "So, pretty boy, is what Bev says true? You trouble?"

"Only the best kind of trouble," he replies with a look that just makes you melt inside.

"Alright. I'll bite. Meet me back at Gareth's then?"

"See you then," he gives you a wink and goes back to the stage to help the rest of the guys put away the equipment.

_____________________

Back at Gareth's, you're rushing around the guest room trying to fix up your hair and touch up your makeup. You made sure that you wore the least embarrassing bra and underwear, just in case.

Your cousin stood in your doorway pouting, "I hate this."

You stop and sigh, "Gareth, we're literally just going to the diner downtown. We're not getting married."

"Okay just...make sure whatever this is doesn't effect my friendship with Eddie."

"Pretty sure it'll end up being just a one night stand, which I'm fine with. And you know me, I don't make things into a big deal. Does he?"

"Not really."

"Then you should be fine."

You hear a soft knock at the front door and rush out of the room. When you pull open the door, Eddie staring at you with a grin, "Ready?"

"Yup!"

You turn and ruffle Gareth's hair, "Don't stay up too late, Gare."

"Yeah, yeah, and use protection. Don't wanna be an uncle yet!"

You give him a thumbs up and head to Eddie's van. He opens the passenger door for you and closes it when you hop it.

He promptly slips into the driver's seat. As soon as the van roars to life, Metallica is blasting through the speakers. He drives away from your aunt and uncle's, looking at you with a mischievous grin on his face. Something is telling you that this is a night you'll never forget.

Part 3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #eddie munson imagine

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candlelover · 6 months ago

Text

Just some fun...

General Marcus Acacius/(f!) Reader

Summary: When Marcus Acacius' (involuntary) fiancé just wants to have a little fun, he sees himself as the perfect fit to put an end to her fun

Warnings: my first time writing something like this, involuntary engagement, dubcon? fingering, kissing, Acacius is jealous, Acacius is slightly annoying?

When you find any more warnings please tell me :)

"Aren't you excited, love? "We haven't had such big games in a long time," your mother asks your father to break the silence on the way to the Colosseum.

"Excited?" your father scoffs, "how could I when this spectacle once again raises far too much from the state treasury?"

“It will cheer up the people. "The emperors have to make themselves popular somehow if their personality can't do it," you say, hoping that your father won't get upset again with his endless talk about the emperor and the Senate. You hardly hear anything other than the Senate at home , Senate this..... general Marcus Acacius this General Marcus Acacius this.

Ughhh... your future husband with whom you exchanged about five words in your life at dinner to celebrate your engagement.

'At least I'm lucky,' you think, 'he seems decent and isn't bad to look at.'

Many of your friends have had worse. Men who are almost on their deathbed or men who are completely inconsiderate and disgusting. Acacius probably won't even be in town much. Then you can continue living as you want. Do whatever you want.

"I hope when we see the general today that you approach him with a more bridled tongue," your father hisses, "of course also towards the emperors."

"I'll behave as well as always," you say while rolling your eyes.

You just hope you just don't have to talk to anyone. That would make things even more fun anyway. Maybe you can even convince your parents to let you look around the market in town after the games. You love to disappear into the hustle and bustle of people and have a pleasant chat with the sellers at the fruit and vegetable stands.

At the entrance to the Colosseum, your father holds you back by the arm and demands: "Just behave!"

As if you didn't always do that. Always perfect behaved, never contradictory, that's how it should always be.

Yes...maybe you'll find a handsome man at the market later with whom you can have some fun. Anything is better than going back to the villa straight away and having dinner with your boring parents and boring conversations.

------------

"Senator, I am pleased to see you and your family here."

You had just sat down in your seats when General Acacius came by to greet you. your father also greets him with a handshake and a slight head bow that is returned by the man across from him.

"My Ladies," he takes your mother's hand and yours in his,one after another, bows slightly and gives them a kiss.

Acacius wears something like a white festive armor robe with a white cloak over it. Everything with golden details. Not to mention the gold metal bracelets around his wrists.

I was right...I really could have married an uglier man.

"My lady, I wanted to ask if you would sit with me. We're getting married in a few weeks and haven't shared much closeness yet," he asks you, smiling.

His deep brown eyes look down at you as gently as the smile on his lips.

"Of course she would like to. Isn't that right, my star?" your father asks you with a warning in his eyes not to say anything wrong.

"Yes, I'd love to General," you answer with the best fake smile you have.

,,Good. Then follow me. And please call me Marcus.We'll get married soon," he suggests, holding out his arm for you to take.

"Yes, if that's what you want, Marcus. Then please call me by my name too," you reply as you take his arm and you start to walk to your seats.

You chat for a bit at your seats until the games start. Relieved that you no longer have to come across as overly nice, you lean back in your seat and focus on the first gladiators who step into the middle of the arena.

One Galdiator in particular catches your eye. Dark hair, muscular, tanned body and as it looks from above, a pretty face too. He fights fantastically and seems to be a real crowd favorite.

You can't help but turn to Marcus and ask, "Do you know the name of the gladiator who is so beloved by the crowds?"

"His name is Celio. He came from one of the smaller provinces we conquered," he explains.

You nod and a few moments later he leans towards you again and looks serious.

,,Why? Do you like him? You seem to enjoy watching him?"

You blush slightly at the sudden turnaround in your relationship. So far you've always been on an almost exhaustingly friendly basis and suddenly his relaxed charisma turns serious?

,Jealousy?'

'No, that can't be it. He barely knows me,' you think to yourself.

You decide to approach it carefully anyway and answer: "No, I'm just curious which man gets the audience so excited."

Marcus gives you a quick critical look and focuses back on the fighting down in the sand.

------------

After the games ended, the general said goodbye to you with another kiss on your hand.

Back at your parents' , you left the Colosseum and made your way home. Somehow you managed to persuade your father to let you go to the market for a while.

So here you are now. Strolling around the market and being happy.

You're just looking around distractedly when you suddenly run into something, or rather, someone.

You're just starting to apologize when you look up and see the man you ran into.

It's Celio, the gladiator from the arena.

,,I'm sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you finish your apology from before.

,,That's fine. I have to apologize too. My gaze wasn't directed in front of me," he admits with a small smile.

From this point you engage in a small conversation that ends in a wild kiss in a poorly lit alley.

'A little fun doesn't hurt, does it?' You think to yourself as you put your arm around his neck.

But of course you won't have the fun for long...

Suddenly Celio is pulled off you and taken away by a bunch of soldiers.

You stand in the alley in shock and look at the man who pulled the gladiator away from you and handed him over to the soldiers.

-Marcus Acacius

"What are you doing here?" you ask, surprised.

"What am I doing here? "I think I should ask you what the hell you're doing with a strange man here a few weeks before our wedding!" he replies angrily.

Oh, be damned...

"Let's be honest Marcus, you're certainly not an innocent lamb either!" you discuss with a special emphasis on his name.

He comes threateningly towards you and has now trapped you between a building wall and himself.

"I never said I was innocent. "Oh my little lamb, I'm not all that. But unlike you, I don't do it in public where everyone could see me."

"You have no right to decide what I do, where, when and how."

You don't know why, but his intense gaze on you stirs something inside you. And in this situation you're not doing well at all.

“If it concerns your reputation, I certainly have the right to do so. Because whether you want it or not, your reputation and mine are linked"

Unfortunately he's right, but you're unlikely to admit it. So why not tease a little for the fun?

"Is it really just your reputation that you're worried about or is it jealousy?"

He would do anything to wipe that confident grin off your face, so he brings his face even closer to yours and whispers, "Do you want it to be jealousy?"

Your breath catches and you feel caught.

'Hell no, this man definitely can't do anything for me,' you think, shocked.

But before you know it, you're both holding deep eye contact and the confident grin is now on his lips. With the sole thought of getting rid of this expression of superiority, your body acts against your will and kisses him harshly.

Well...at least you got rid of his grin.

He puts his hands on your waist and pulls you even closer to him. You sigh with pleasure and kiss him even harder while you comb your fingers through his hair and pull it lightly. He seems to like this gesture too as he moans slightly.

His fingers start to wander again and quickly find their way under your clothes.

"But that doesn't hurt our reputation if someone sees it?" you ask teasingly.

He just goes down to your neck with kisses and makes you moan with a light bite as an answer.

His fingers are now circling your clitoris.

"Even if you don't seem to like me, my fingers are pretty wet, my little lamb."

“Just do it Marcus. I can't wait any longer."

"So rude...where did my good future bride go from this morning?"

"We both know very well that this is just a facade."

"So I'm going to marry a little minx, huh?" he asks as he slowly inserts a finger.

'Ooh shit that feels good..."

You moan loudly and reply breathlessly: "I'm not getting married to a better person either, believe me."

As soon as he says it, his second finger is already in there and he starts to move it.

He laughs a little: "If you say please, I might let you come."

"I have no problem going home and doing it myself."

“Stop trying so hard. I know that's what you want."

You kiss again and you are close to finally finding relief.

Acacius notices and stops abruptly, moving a few inches away from you. Frustrated by the sudden emptiness, you whimper slightly and glare at him.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"I'm just making sure my little lamb listens straight away next time."

With a smug grin he begins to move away from you for good.

You can't believe it. This terrible, sexy, horrible man!

Before he finally disappears, he calls to you over his shoulder:

"See you at our wedding, my little lamb. We will definitely have a very nice time that night."

Smug idiot!

#marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #x reader #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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haesunshin · 8 months ago

Text

sunset serenade | LTY

pairing: taeyong x f!reader ft. bff jaehyun, johnny and haechan

word count. 4.3k

genre. university!au, classmates, angst, fluff, romance. enemies to friends to lovers

summary. Y/N navigates through the bustling halls of university life, surrounded by close friends Johnny, Haechan, and Jaehyun. Her world shifts when she's paired with Taeyong for a university project, despite a childhood marked by a painful separation. Initially fueled by mutual animosity, Y/N and Taeyong gradually uncover shared memories that reignite deep emotions. Through late-night study sessions and unexpected encounters, their hostility transforms into a tentative friendship, and eventually, an unexplainable attraction.

a/n. i'm sorry i haven't been as active i would want to be, but i came back with a new ff and i hope you will like it <3

feedbacks, likes and reposts are appreciated!

---

I jolt awake as my alarm reads 7:30 AM. Another day at university. I stretch, get up, and peek out the window. The campus is already alive with activity. I grab my bag and head out to meet my friends at the cafeteria.

As I enter the cafeteria, I immediately spot Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun sitting at our usual table. Haechan is engrossed in his phone, Johnny is telling a joke to Jaehyun, who is laughing heartily.

"Hey, everyone," I greet as I sit down with them.

"Hey, Y/N," Johnny replies with a smile. "Ready for another day of classes?"

"Please don’t even talk about it," I say, laughing. "So, what's new?"

"Not much," Haechan responds. "Just the same old stuff. Johnny's telling his lame jokes again."

"You know you love them," Johnny retorts, chuckling.

I smile and turn to Jaehyun. "And you? What's new?"

"Just looking forward to the end of this semester," he says. "I think we're all eager for a break."

We finish our breakfast, chatting about various things, before heading to our first class. On the way, I notice Johnny talking to a guy who looks strangely familiar. I squint, trying to place where I've seen him before, but nothing comes to mind.

"Who's that guy with Johnny?" Jaehyun asks, noticing my curiosity.

"I don't know," I answer. "But he does look familiar."

---

Walking into biochemistry class, I take my usual seat. Mr. Kim, our professor, enters the room with a stack of papers in hand. He smiles at the class before addressing us.

"Good morning, everyone. Today, we're starting a group project that will last the entire semester. I've already assigned the groups, so listen carefully."

I take a deep breath, hoping to be paired with one of my friends. Mr. Kim starts reading out the names, and my heart sinks when he announces:

"Y/N and Taeyong."

I look around, searching for Taeyong. When our eyes meet, I immediately notice the coldness in his gaze. He doesn't seem pleased at all to be paired with me, which leaves me puzzled.

"Hi," I say, approaching him after class.

"Hi," he responds curtly, not even looking up from his notebook.

"I guess we'll be working together," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Seems like it," he says without any warmth, leaving.

And I’m leftI wondering why he's so cold towards me, especially since he seems to be good friends with Johnny. What did I do to deserve this?

---

The first few weeks of our group project are tense. Taeyong and I struggle to get along and our meetings are often filled with silence and unspoken tension. We work in our dorms, in cafés, and at the library, but the atmosphere remains frosty.

One day, while chatting with Johnny, I decide to ask him about Taeyong.

"John, do you perhaps know why Taeyong is acting so cold to me?"

He thinks for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure, but I know he went through some tough times in middle school. Maybe it has something to do with that."

That's when memories start coming back. Taeyong... that name, that face... everything suddenly becomes clear. He was the one who saved me that night at the end of middle school. How could I have forgotten?

---

(Flashback). It’s the end of our last year of middle school. The air is filled with excitement and chatter as students gather for the end-of-year party. I’m surrounded by my friends, laughing and enjoying the festivities, when suddenly, a group of older students appears. They're known troublemakers, their smirks and glances filled with malice.

I feel a knot of unease in my stomach as they approach, eyeing me with disdain. One of them, taller and more intimidating than the rest, steps forward. "So, you think you're better than us, huh?" he sneers, his voice laced with venom.

I glance nervously at my friends, but before anyone can react, the situation escalates. Rough hands grab me, pulling me away from the safety of my group and into a dimly lit alley behind the school. Panic grips me as I struggle against their grip, my heart racing with fear.

"Let her go!" a voice rings out, breaking through the tense silence. I recognize the voice instantly—Taeyong. He emerges from the shadows, his presence commanding despite his slight frame. His eyes are steely with determination as he steps between me and the bullies.

"Leave her alone," he says firmly, his voice betraying only a hint of nervousness.

The leader of the group scoffs, his smirk widening. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? You think you can take us all on?"

Taeyong squares his shoulders, his fists clenched at his sides. "I said, leave her alone."

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Then, with a sudden burst of aggression, the bullies lunge at Taeyong. He fights back bravely, trading blows and dodging attacks with surprising agility. Despite being outnumbered, he holds his ground, his determination unwavering.

The alley echoes with the sounds of grunts and shuffling feet, but Taeyong doesn’t back down. He fights not just to defend me, but to protect something deeper—a sense of justice and courage that shines through even in the face of danger.

Finally, adults arrive, drawn by the commotion. They quickly intervene, pulling the students apart and dispersing the crowd. Taeyong stands battered and bruised, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek, but his gaze finds mine with a faint, reassuring smile.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice trembling with gratitude and relief.

---

As I fully recover and remember the events, I’m overwhelmed with guilt. How could I have forgotten what he did for me? Why is he so cold now? I need to know. But every time I try to approach him, he ignores me or becomes even more distant.

The weeks pass by, filled with tense meetings and strained interactions between Taeyong and me as we work on our biochemistry project. Each session is marked by awkward silences and terse exchanges, a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie I share with Johnny, Haechan, and Jaehyun.

One afternoon, after another particularly silent study session in the library, I decide it’s time to confront Taeyong about his cold demeanor. I catch up with him as we leave the library together.

"Taeyong," I begin tentatively, falling into step beside him, "can we talk?"

He glances at me briefly, his expression guarded. "About what?"

"About us," I reply honestly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. "About why things have been so... strained between us."

He keeps walking, his pace steady but his eyes avoiding mine. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I pause, feeling frustration and hurt bubbling up inside me. "Taeyong, we used to be friends in middle school. What happened to that?"

He stops abruptly, turning to face me with a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. "That was a long time ago, Y/N. A lot has changed since then."

"But why are you so distant with me?" I press, my voice pleading for understanding. "You're friends with Johnny. What did I do to make you treat me like this?"

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "It's not about you, okay? It's... it's complicated."

"Then help me understand," I implore, stepping closer to him. "Please, Taeyong. I want to know."

For a moment, he looks torn, his emotions warring within him. Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet but filled with pain. "Do you remember that night at the end of middle school?"

I nod slowly, remembering the fear and relief of that evening. "Yes, of course."

"After that night," he continues, his gaze fixed on the ground, "things changed for me. I felt... abandoned."

My heart sinks as I realize the depth of his feelings. "Taeyong, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"You left," he interrupts softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "You left without saying goodbye."

"I didn't know what to do," I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. "My parents moved us away so suddenly."

He shakes his head, his frustration evident. "You don't understand. I needed you, and you weren't there."

"I know," I reply, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry, Taeyong. I'm so sorry."

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and longing. "I tried to forget about that night, about you. But every time I saw you again, it brought back all those feelings."

"I never meant to hurt you," I say earnestly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I wish I could go back and change things."

He pulls away gently, his expression conflicted. "It's not that simple, Y/N."

"I know," I say softly, my heart breaking for the pain I've caused him. "But I want to try to make things right. Please, Taeyong."

---

Our meetings for the project continue in our dorms. Despite our initial animosity, a certain camaraderie begins to form between Taeyong and me. Gradually, I find myself enjoying his company more than I expected.

One evening, as we were working late in the library, Taeyong breaks the usual silence with a question. "So, Y/N, what made you choose biochemistry?"

I look up from my notes, surprised by his sudden interest. "Oh, well, I've always been fascinated by how living organisms function at a molecular level. It's like solving a puzzle, piece by piece."

He nods thoughtfully. "That makes sense. It's impressive."

"Thanks," I reply, feeling a bit flustered by his compliment. "And what about you? What's your passion?"

Taeyong hesitates for a moment, as if considering his answer carefully. "I've always been drawn to music," he finally says. "It's my way of expressing myself when words fail."

"That's beautiful," I remark, genuinely touched by his honesty.

As the night progresses, our conversation flows more freely. We share anecdotes about our childhood, discuss our favorite books and movies, and even joke about our initial dislike for each other. Surprisingly, Taeyong has a dry sense of humor that catches me off guard, making me laugh more than once.

At one point, he looks at me with a small smile. "You know, Y/N, I’m glad we started things over, you're not as bad as I thought you were."

I chuckle softly. "Likewise, Taeyong. Turns out, we might actually make a decent team."

He nods in agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do."

---

As weeks pass and our project nears completion, Taeyong and I find ourselves meeting one last time at a cozy café near campus. The atmosphere is serene, with soft jazz music playing in the background and the comforting aroma of coffee filling the air.

I arrive a few minutes early and settle into a corner booth, watching the door anxiously until Taeyong walks in with a warm smile. He sits across from me, and we exchange brief greetings before diving into our project notes.

"So, for this section," Taeyong begins, pointing to a paragraph in our report, "I think we should emphasize the implications of the latest research findings."

I nod in agreement, impressed by his insights. "That would definitely strengthen our argument," I agree, jotting down some notes.

As we discuss our ideas and make final adjustments, I can't help but notice the ease with which we work together now. The initial tension has given way to a shared sense of purpose and mutual respect.

After a while, Taeyong sets down his pen and leans back in his chair, studying me thoughtfully. "Y/N," he starts, his voice gentle, "this project is almost done."

I look up from my notes, meeting his gaze curiously. "Yeah, it's hard to believe it's almost over."

He nods slowly. "Yeah... which means we won't have to meet like this anymore."

A pang of sadness tugs at my heart as I realize the implications of his words. "Yeah," I reply softly, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice. "I guess we won't."

Taeyong frowns slightly, his expression conflicted. "I've... I've enjoyed working with you, Y/N."

"Me too," I admit quietly, my gaze dropping to the table. "It's been... surprisingly nice."

He leans forward, his voice earnest. "Y/N, I..." He trails off, as if unsure how to continue.

I look up at him, my heart racing with anticipation. "Taeyong?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "I just... I want you to know that I appreciate you," he says finally, his words carefully chosen. "For everything. For being patient with me, for understanding."

A warmth spreads through me at his words, and I realize with a jolt that my feelings for him have grown beyond friendship. But I hesitate, unsure if now is the right time to confess.

"I appreciate you too, Taeyong," I reply softly, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "More than you know."

He smiles back, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/N."

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the unspoken tension between us palpable. I want to tell him how I feel, to let him know that my feelings have changed, but the words catch in my throat.

"Taeyong," I start tentatively, breaking the silence, "what happens after this project?"

He looks at me, his expression thoughtful. "I guess... we go back to our lives," he says quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

A wave of disappointment washes over me, mingled with regret for not speaking up sooner. "Yeah," I murmur, feeling a lump in my throat. "Back to normal."

But inside, nothing feels normal anymore. Everything has changed between us, and I'm left grappling with the realization that I might have missed my chance to tell Taeyong how I truly feel.

As we gather our belongings to leave the café, I steal glances at Taeyong, my heart heavy with unspoken words. The weight of what could have been hangs between us, a silent ache that I'm not sure how to heal.

But as we part ways, I cling to a flicker of hope—that maybe, just maybe, there will be another chance for us, another moment where I can find the courage to confess my feelings and hope he feels the same way too.

---

After our emotional conversation at the café, I feel overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. That evening, I decide to FaceTime Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun to share everything that has happened with Taeyong. They answer almost immediately, their faces filled with curiosity and concern.

"Y/N! What's going on? You look like you've been through a rollercoaster," Johnny exclaims, leaning closer to the screen.

"Yeah, spill it!" Haechan chimes in, his expression serious but playful.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself as I recount the story of Taeyong and me—from our childhood friendship to our recent reconciliation over the biochemistry project. They listen intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to empathy.

"So, let me get this straight," Jaehyun says slowly, processing the information. "You've been harboring feelings for Taeyong all this time?"

I nod, feeling a rush of nerves as I admit the truth to my friends. "Yeah. I think... I think I've fallen for him."

Haechan lets out a whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow, Y/N. That's intense."

Johnny leans closer to the camera, his voice gentle. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly, feeling a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I think... maybe I should tell him how I feel."

"You've got to talk to him," Jaehyun adds, his tone encouraging. "You owe it to yourself, Y/N. Don't let fear hold you back."

Their words resonate deeply within me, filling me with determination. "You're right," I say with a small smile. "I'll talk to him."

As we say our goodbyes and end the call, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. Tomorrow, I'll face Taeyong and finally confess what's been in my heart all this time.

---

The next day arrives swiftly, and with it, a mix of nerves and excitement as Taeyong and I prepare to present our biochemistry project to the class. Mr. Kim welcomes us warmly as we step up to the front of the room, the PowerPoint slides ready and our notes organized.

"Today, Y/N and Taeyong will be presenting their research on enzyme kinetics," Mr. Kim announces to the class, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Taeyong and I exchange a quick glance, our nerves momentarily forgotten as we launch into our presentation. We speak with confidence, explaining our findings and analysis with clarity and enthusiasm. As we reach the conclusion, I feel a sense of pride knowing how far we've come together.

Mr. Kim listens attentively throughout, nodding approvingly at key points and occasionally interjecting with insightful questions. When we finish, he applauds warmly, a smile of satisfaction spreading across his face.

"Excellent work, Y/N and Taeyong," he praises, his voice resonating with genuine admiration. "You've demonstrated a deep understanding of the subject matter and presented your research with clarity and precision. I'm truly impressed."

Taeyong and I exchange grateful smiles, the tension of the presentation melting away in the glow of Mr. Kim's praise. As we gather our things to leave, I catch Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun's proud smiles from the back of the room, their silent encouragement giving me a surge of confidence.

---

After class, the campus bustles with students heading off to their next destinations. I remember my friends words and linger near the classroom, summoning the courage to finally confront Taeyong about something I've been avoiding for far too long.

"Hey, Taeyong," I begin, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervousness bubbling inside me. "Can we talk?"

He hesitates for a moment, then nods slowly. "Sure, Y/N. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I gather my thoughts. "I... I was wondering if we could meet later this afternoon. Maybe at the park?"

His eyebrows furrow with curiosity. "Sure, but why?"

"There's something important I need to discuss with you," I reply, feeling a surge of nerves and anticipation.

Taeyong's expression softens, and he gives me a small smile. "Okay, Y/N. I'll meet you there."

As the afternoon arrives, I find myself at the park, anxiously waiting for Taeyong. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. I've dressed in a floral dress, hoping to look pretty, and with an hopeful feeling inside me despite my jittery nerves.

When Taeyong arrives, he looks genuinely surprised to see me there, setting up a small picnic under a shady tree. He sits down beside me, and we start chatting casually, the unspoken tension between us palpable.

After a while, the conversation naturally slows, and I gather my courage. "Taeyong," I begin, my voice trembling slightly, "there's something I need to tell you."

He turns to me, his gaze intense and expectant. "What is it, Y/N?"

He listens attentively, his gaze unwavering as I gather my thoughts. "I... I've realized that... I've developed feelings for you, Taeyong," I confess, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and hope.

He blinks in surprise, his expression momentarily unreadable. For a moment, he doesn't say anything, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of surprise and contemplation. Then, without warning, he steps closer, gently cupping my face in his hands, he suddenly leans in and kisses me softly, his lips warm against mine. My heart skips a beat as I melt into the kiss, overwhelmed yet exhilarated by the rush of emotions.

When we finally pull back, Taeyong rests his forehead against mine, his eyes searching mine tenderly. "Y/N," he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with emotion, "I've... I've loved you for a long time, since middle school, actually."

I gasp softly, my heart swelling with joy and relief. "But... why didn't you say anything?"

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. "After you moved away, I thought... I thought you had forgotten about me. Seeing you again at university brought back everything I felt back then. But I didn't know how to tell you."

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize the depth of his feelings. "Taeyong, I'm so sorry," I whisper, guilt washing over me. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He pulls me into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'm sorry for pushing you away," he murmurs against my hair. "I should have been more mature about everything."

I bury my face in his shoulder, feeling the weight of past misunderstandings finally lifting. "Thank you, Taeyong," I murmur, my voice muffled against his shirt. "Thank you for being patient with me."

"It's okay," I reply, tears of relief and happiness streaming down my cheeks. "I understand now."

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. "No more apologies, okay? We both made mistakes. But now, we can move forward together."

I nod, a smile spreading across my face. "Together."

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over us, we continue our picnic and we stand together in the embrace, our hearts finally open and our feelings laid bare, sharing stories and laughter. The air is filled with a newfound sense of closeness and understanding, a promise of a future where our love can blossom freely.

And in that moment, beneath the fading light of a sunny afternoon, I know that everything we've been through has led us to this beautiful, unexpected love—a love that I will cherish for the rest of my life, and as we walk home hand in hand, I know that with Taeyong by my side, I've found not only love but also forgiveness and a chance to heal the scars of our past, together.

Epilogue:

The next morning, Taeyong and I arrive at our class hand in hand, both of us sporting wide smiles that we can't seem to wipe off our faces. As we step through the door, the playful whistles and cheers from our friends greet us.

"Look who finally made it official!" Jaehyun exclaims with a grin, earning laughter from Johnny.

Haechan playfully whines, "I'm so jealous! Sick of being single, you know?"

This earns a round of laughter from everyone, including Taeyong and me. Jaehyun and Johnny clap us on the back, grinning broadly. "About time, you two figured it out!" Johnny exclaims with a chuckle. "You had us all waiting forever."

Jaehyun nods in agreement. "Seriously, though, we're really happy for you guys. You make a great couple."

Taeyong and I exchange a shy smile, as he squeezes my hand gently, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "Thank you, guys," he says sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

As we settle into our seats, the warmth of our friends' support surrounds us like a comforting embrace. The class continues with Mr. Kim congratulating us on our project, commending our teamwork and dedication, Mr. Kim notices the commotion and smiles knowingly. "I'm glad to see teamwork paying off both in and out of the classroom," he remarks, giving us a nod of approval.

Throughout the day, Taeyong and I are inseparable, stealing glances and sharing secret smiles. It feels like the beginning of something beautiful, a journey we're finally taking together after so many missed chances and misunderstandings.

After class, as we gather our belongings to head to lunch, Taeyong leans in close to me. "I'm glad we took that chance yesterday," he whispers, his voice soft but filled with certainty.

I smile up at him, feeling a rush of love and gratitude. "Me too," I reply quietly. "I wouldn't change a thing."

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