#the other friend who was supposed to come cancelled last minute and said she was ill which is acc don’t believe

[room4creation]

i hosted a pub quiz for my netball club, none of my friends bothered to come, djing tonight, none of my friends have bothered to come like 👍🏽 cool i guess

[starlightkun]

➺ word count: 9.9k ➺ genre: exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst with a happy ending :), some hurt/comfort, fluff, ‘we broke up but somehow keep ending up as each other’s plus-ones’ trope (is that a trope? idk) ➺ warnings: mentions of death/depictions of grief, family and interpersonal conflict ➺ author’s note: i am a 5-star general in the idgaf war on the side of gaf 🫡

“This is us now, remember? Just weddings and funerals.”

“If you need anything, call me.”

That’s what Sungchan had said, two months ago, when the two of you ended things on fairly amicable terms.

“Y/N?” It hurt to hear his voice saying your name again. With such surprise, you’d obviously woken him up at this hour on a Saturday.

“Sungchan, hey,” you winced at the awkward crack in your voice. “Did I wake you up? Sorry…”

“No, it’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uhm, I have a-a favor to ask…”

He was silent, letting you go ahead and make your request.

“Are you busy today?” You balled your hand into a fist, digging your fingernails into your palm. “My cousin’s wedding is today and my plus-one bailed on me last minute. It’s fine if you’re busy—Actually never mind, you’re probably busy and this weird—”

“I can do it.” He cleared his throat away from the speaker, and you could hear his sheets shifting around as he sat up. “What time should I pick you up?”

“Thank you,” you said again, sitting down ahead of the ceremony.

Sungchan took the seat beside you, adjusting his suit jacket. “I was supposed to be your plus-one for this anyway, wasn’t I?”

You nodded.

He flashed you a smile. “No need to thank me then. At least not for a tenth time.”

You chuckled lightly, running your hands over the material over your knees. “Sorry. I’m still freaked from my friend canceling on me last-minute, I guess.”

“Oh, I thought you were feeling awkward because you brought me.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well, that too, I guess.”

“So who were you bringing? That canceled?”

“Chaeyeon.”

He let out a laugh at that. “Well of course she flaked.”

“I know. She volunteered after we… After she heard I wouldn’t be bringing you anymore,” you admitted. “It’s hard telling her no.”

Music started playing then, and a hush fell over the crowd.

At the reception, you were sat at a table with some older aunties and uncles that you hadn’t seen since you were little.

“Oh, this must be Sungchan!” One of the aunties gasped in delight as soon as you introduced yourself, before you could even begin introducing Sungchan. At your surely startled look, she explained, “Your mom posts pictures all the time.”

“Right. Of course,” you nodded, struggling to think of something to say.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sungchan greeted them all politely.

“Even taller in person,” One auntie giggled to another.

“And more handsome!” The other said back.

“Y/N, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you,” one of the uncles saved you. “What do you do now?”

“Oh, I’m getting my master’s in—” You cut yourself off upon spotting the bride and groom making their way to your table to greet everyone. You weren’t exceptionally close with this cousin, but the wedding was close enough in distance that you felt obligated to go, especially because your mother was out of town. One of you had to make an appearance.

She leant down to kiss all the older relatives’ cheeks first, then you got up to give her and her husband hugs and your congrats.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” she was beaming as she looked expectantly at Sungchan behind you.

“Uhm, Sooyoung, this is Sungchan,” you introduced them quietly.

“Congratulations,” he bowed to them.

“Of course!” Sooyoung hugged him as well. “You know, the older cousins had bets, we all thought it’d be you guys next! I was so worried when Y/N hadn’t posted you in a while. But I guess I was worried for nothing.”

She and her husband laughed before taking off for the next table of guests. As chatter discussing when you and Sungchan would be getting married erupted at your own table, you pretended you couldn’t hear it as you latched onto his forearm and announced loudly, “I’m thirsty, let’s get some drinks!”

Sungchan allowed himself to be yanked off into the crowd, to the drinks table on the other side of the venue. You skin was still on fire when you arrived, refusing to look at him as you instead carefully scoured the drinks options.

“Here.” He handed you a glass of your favorite drink.

“Thanks,” you huffed, gulping down half of it in one go.

The lucky couple were on the dance floor now for their first dance, and you gnawed on your bottom lip as you watched them. God, why the hell did you even bring Sungchan? So you didn’t look like a lonely loser? Was this really much better?

“Do you want to dance?” He nudged your arm, nodding to where others had joined the couple on the dance floor. An upbeat song was playing, and plenty of fun dancing was happening.

Anything to distract yourself. “Sure.”

Sungchan put your glasses back down before offering you a hand. Against your better judgment, you placed your hand atop his and let him guide you out onto the edge of the dance floor. There, he let go of your hand again and kept a polite distance between the two of you as he started getting into some rather silly dance moves. You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you watched him flail his gangly limbs around for what you knew was your benefit.

“I forgot how bad of a dancer you are, Sungchan,” you covered your mouth as you laughed.

“Only when I’m trying to make you laugh,” he grinned back, pulling your hand down from your face.

You kept your hands down as you matched his moves, freely giggling this time. When the song changed to a slower one, you looked between him and your table uncertainly, trying to gauge if he wanted to exit the dance floor.

Sungchan looked down at you and shrugged, once again offering you a hand. And once again, against your better judgment, you placed yours atop it and let him pull you closer. You put your other hand on his shoulder as his rested on your waist. This close, you could smell his familiar expensive cologne that he only brought out for fancy events—the last time you’d smelled it was at your anniversary dinner six months ago. His warm breaths washed over your ear, and you couldn’t see much else other than his nice tie that you knew very well was his only one, which matched perfectly with your nice outfit that you were wearing (also your only one).

“I haven’t told my family either,” he murmured, not breaking the slow pace he was swaying the two of you at.

You looked up at him, feeling guilty tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He knew, of course he knew. He was smiling bittersweetly down at you.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I still haven’t told my family that we broke up yet.”

“Sorry,” you apologized hoarsely, even though he already said it was okay.

“Me too.”

You tentatively leaned your head on his chest. He didn’t stop you or tense up. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, you too.”

That’s what you’d said back, when you’d broken up.

You hadn’t seen Sungchan since your cousin’s wedding sixteen days ago, and yes, you were absolutely counting the days. And yet it still surprised you to see his caller ID lighting up your phone screen. It didn’t surprise you so much the speed with which you picked up his call.

“Sungchan?”

There was heavy breathing on the other end, punctuated by a thin, quiet whine.

“Sungchan?!” You repeated, jumping to your feet off your couch. “Are you okay?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry…” He sniffled, and you could already imagine his tear-stained face.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “What’s going on?”

“Are you busy right now?” He asked through a sob. “I’m sorry, my grandmother’s funeral is today and—”

“I’ll be over in ten.”

“Thank you,” Sungchan mumbled into your shoulder as you hugged each other just past his front door.

“I’m sorry, Sungchan,” you whispered, squeezing him as tight as you could. “I’m so sorry.”

Sungchan had been really close to his grandmother, she was practically a third parent to him growing up. He shook in your arms now, and you continued to hold him close.

“We need to leave soon, or we’re going to be late,” he declared, finally pulling back. “Oh, God, your shirt. I’m sorry.”

You looked down at your black blouse, where there was a large pooling of tears and presumably snot as well. You waved his concerns away. “It’s okay. You get ready, I’ll take care of it.”

As Sungchan got dressed in his room, you took a damp washcloth to your top in the kitchen, cleaning it off as best you could. It was black, it’s not like you could really see much in the first place. You were waiting for him in the living room when he came back out mostly dressed, sheepishly holding out his singular nice tie to you.

“Can you help me?” He requested. “My fingers are shaking too much.”

“Of course.” You took it and he sat down on the arm of the couch. Standing in front of him, you hooked the material around the back of his neck, then looped it easily, your own fingers moving with muscle memory. Sungchan knew how to tie a tie, but you had insisted he show you how to tie one. Whenever you two went out to events together that necessitated him wearing one, you would help him put it on, then he’d help you with your necklace in return. Really, it was just an excuse to exchange kisses in between, which you refrained from doing this time.

“You should know…” Sungchan’s head was down, watching you adjust his tie. “I still haven’t told them. I’m sorry.”

You gave the tie a pat to signal that you were finished, and smiled softly at him. “It’s fine. You’ve got other things to worry about today.”

“Oh, Sungchan, Y/N,” Sungchan’s mother found you as soon as you had stepped foot in her house for the wake, kissing her son’s cheek before enveloping you in her arms.

“Hi, Mrs. Jung,” you hugged her back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes were misty when you pulled back. She kept you close, though, fixing a stray piece of hair for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t going to be able to make it.”

“She got someone to cover for her,” Sungchan explained for you.

Mrs. Jung smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sweetheart. My mom adored you.”

“She was a wonderful woman,” you agreed fondly.

“Here, Y/N, let’s get something to drink,” Sungchan suggested, gently ushering you away from his mom with a hand on the small of your back.

You gave her hand one last squeeze before letting him guide you over to the kitchen. It was devoid of other mourners, and you silently watched him take down two glasses from the cabinet and fill them up with water.

“Do you want to go outside?” You asked as he handed you your water.

He just nodded, and you took his free hand to pull him over towards the door that you knew led to the backyard. The two of you were the only ones out here, which made sense, as it was the middle of winter, but you didn’t complain as the cold air nipped at any bare skin.

“I don’t get it,” he stated, staring out at the dry, brown grass. His words came out as white puffs in the crisp air.

“Get what?” You replied quietly.

“What I’m even supposed to be doing right now. Here,” he explained, and you watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed thickly. “I’m sick of crying. I at least don’t want to cry for four straight hours in front of a bunch of people.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t I want to cry for four straight hours in front of a bunch of people?” He repeated incredulously, staring at you this time.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “She’s your grandmother, you’re grieving. If that’s how you feel, like you need to cry for four straight hours… Then you should.”

He shook his head, taking a sip of his water despite the ice cubes in it. “Not here. I’ll cry for four hours later.”

“Okay.”

“Talk to me about something. Anything,” he prompted you, shuffling closer until you were shoulder-to-shoulder.

You looked away from his red eyes, telling yourself that they were watering from the cold. “Uhm, I watched this documentary about penguins the other day.”

“Penguins?”

“I fell asleep halfway through, though…”

Sungchan laughed loudly at that, keeling forward as he wiped at the tears that finally spilled over. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched him, and you didn’t even try to defend yourself. Once he had righted himself a little bit, still teary-eyed and grinning broadly, he nudged you with his elbow, “Well tell me what you remember from before you fell asleep.”

“Alright, alright…”

“Thank you again, Y/N,” Sungchan sighed as the two of you approached his front door that evening. “You’re… I owe you one.”

“Just repaying the favor.”

“Well…” He looked between you and his front door awkwardly. “Uhm, goodnight, I guess.”

“Are you actually going to cry for four hours now?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe three?”

You took a deep breath. “I know you didn’t want to cry in front of all those people, and I know we’re… but I can stay, if you want. Or not, if you need to be alone.”

“Can you?” He smiled weakly, his voice cracking. “I felt like I took up enough of your time today.”

“No, of course I can, Sungchan,” you reassured him.

He unlocked the front door and you followed him inside. His apartment hadn’t changed much, except in one major way—all the pictures of you two were missing. They hadn’t been replaced, you noted, the places they used to sit now starkly empty. You didn’t comment on that as the two of you silently made your way towards his room.

Sungchan handed you some clothing, and you took them into the bathroom to change out of your nice funeral outfit. Leaving your clothes folded on the bathroom counter, you waited for Sungchan to give you the okay that he was ready for you to emerge.

He was already sitting up against his headboard when you entered, and you sat down on the empty side of the bed, leaving some space between you two.

“I feel like shit,” he said bluntly, fingers messing with the blanket over his lap. “I wish I was at the part where I felt nothing.”

“I get that,” you agreed softly.

“I-I was supposed to—” He was cut off by a sniffle, and wiped at his cheeks as tears began streaming down. “I was supposed to see her. But I was too busy. And two days later she was gone.”

“Sungchan, you couldn’t have known.” You offered a hand out towards him in the space between you.

“Can I—”

“Yeah, whatever you need.”

He turned onto his side and shuffled around and down until he was curled up on top of your lap, head pressed into your middle. You pulled the blanket back over him, rubbing his back as more and more tears surfaced.

“I can’t believe she’s gone…” he blubbered into the oversized crewneck you were wearing. “I can’t even—can’t comprehend that I’ll never hug her again.”

“I know, Channie,” you murmured, feeling your own eyes water sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

The word had slipped out without you even thinking, and you had a split-second of panic as you kept the same rhythm of rubbing his back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. If he did, he didn’t say anything, simply nestling further into you.

“It hurts, Y/N,” he whimpered. “Everything hurts. My chest, my heart, my head from crying so fucking much.”

“Do you want me to grab you an ibuprofen for your head?”

“No, stay with me.”

“Okay, Channie.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sungchan eventually cried himself to sleep like that, and you didn’t have it in you to try to worm your way out while he was passed out. So you fell asleep there too, cradling his head close to you and with the familiar, comforting pressure of him atop you.

You were awoken by sunlight across your lids, and tried to turn over away from the windows, stopped by the immovable weight on you. You gave up with a grunt, throwing an arm over your face instead.

“Shit, sorry…” Sungchan mumbled, rolling off of you and back to the other side of the bed. “Didn’t mean to trap you here.”

You peered at him from under your arm with one eye, offering him a sleepy smile. “It’s fine. How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts. Sad. Whatever, you know. But a lot better than if you hadn’t stayed. Thank you.”

“Good, good.” You sat up and yawned. “I’ll get you something for your head.”

“Hey, I am sorry if this was weird for you…”

You gave him as casual of a shrug as you could, hoping it came across as cool and nonchalant. “We did this before we dated too, remember? Sleepovers?”

“Yeah, and I though my heart was going to give out every time,” he laughed, rubbing his face.

You chuckled, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed. “Me too.”

After breakfast, you changed back into your clothes from the wake and stopped at the front door to say goodbye to Sungchan.

“Keep in touch, okay?” You requested, getting on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “At least let me know you’re alive?”

He was quiet as you let go and dropped back down to flat feet, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to be putting his words together.

“Y/N—” Sungchan’s voice was hoarse as his hand cupped your cheek. He paused, puffy eyes searching your face. You froze, too swept away at being this close to him again, letting him tilt your chin up, leaning in as he did. As soon as his lips hesitantly ghosted over yours, your fingers instinctively wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down to fully seal your mouths together. His lips moved against yours so gingerly, so sweetly, you felt like you might melt.

When you finally pulled back for air, a thin string of saliva connected you two for a moment before it split. You immediately ducked your head and sighed, “Bad idea, God, Sungchan, I’m sorry.”

You weren’t even sure if you were apologizing for stopping, or letting it happen in the first place, or both.

“But you—”

“You’re not in a good place right now,” you explained ruefully, stepping back fully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh.” He looked down at his feet dejectedly. “No, Y/N, don’t feel bad. You’re right, I’m sorry for doing that to you—”

“No, it’s fine, Sungchan, really. I just don’t think it’s a good time—”

“I get it. Uhm, thanks.”

“I meant it though, keep in touch. I don’t want to have to find out from Shotaro if you’re okay.”

He nodded and smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. And hey, next wedding or funeral you need a plus-one for, let me know.”

“Maybe that’s us now. Weddings and funerals,” you chuckled.

“Ha, yeah.”

Giving his forearm one last squeeze, you opened the front door. “See you at the next one, Sungchan.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Pleasepleaseplease pick up…” You muttered to your ceiling as you paced around your living room, listening to the phone ring way too many times for comfort. It went to voicemail, and you swore as it beeped through for you to leave a message. “Fuck—Uh, hey, Sungchan. If you’re listening to this within like five minutes of me calling, please call me back. Long story short, it’s a funeral. Uhm, let me know if you can come. Thanks.”

You hung up and debated immediately calling him again, just in case. Before you could click the call button, though, your screen was overtaken with an incoming call from him. You let out a breath of relief, immediately picking up.

“Oh, Sungchan, thank God,” you groaned.

“Y/N, hey, are you alright?” His voice was gentle but obviously out of breath.

“Yeah, sorry if my voicemail was freaky. I found out last-minute that my mom is making me go to the funeral for her great-uncle twice removed or something that I’ve never met. I totally get if you don’t want to come, but—”

“I’ll come. I know how they are,” he assured you. “I can be at your place in five.”

“Oh, you are a lifesaver, I love you, thank you!” You gushed, hanging up the phone.

“You’re going to be just fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, squeezing your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to the small of your back as you approached the house that your mom had given you the address to.

“I know,” you breathed out, forcing a smile as you looked up at him. “Because I’ve got you here.”

You didn’t even know whose house this was, but the front door was unlocked, and many cars were parked along the streetfront. People donned in black were milling around inside, a constant, hushed din throughout the house as soon as you entered. You looked around for your mom, needing to let her know that you’d arrived.

“Y/N!” A booming voice called out your name as you turned from the foyer into the sitting room, and you tried not to wince visually.

Spinning around to greet the middle-aged man who had said your name, you gave him a canned smile and as fleeting of a hug as you could as he already had his arms out for one. “Hi, Uncle.”

“Have you gotten even bigger since the last time I saw you?” He laughed, pinching your cheek.

You turned your head away from him uncomfortably. “That was when I was middle school, I think. I have gotten taller, yes.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Jung Sungchan, I don’t think we’ve met, sir,” Sungchan firmly put himself between you and the uncle, offering his hand out.

The older man shook it, looking Sungchan up and down with an appraising eye. “No, I don’t believe we have. I’m Y/N’s mother’s cousin. You’re…?”

“Y/N’s boyfriend,” he confirmed authoritatively.

“Ah, really?” The uncle’s eyes practically sparkled. He looked around, waving someone over. “Jooeun! Come, meet Y/N’s boyfriend!”

A woman maybe five or so years older than you joined him, draping herself over his arm, her sharp gaze on where you held onto the crook of Sungchan’s elbow. The uncle continued introductions, “Jooie, dear, this is little Y/N’s boyfriend, uh, something Jungchan—”

“Jung Sungchan,” he swiftly corrected him, flashing a polite smile to the woman as well.

Jooeun wasn’t familiar to you whatsoever, she was definitely younger than you remember the uncle’s wife being when you last saw him over a decade ago now. New wife, you surmised.

“Wow…” She nodded, not saying anything else after trailing off.

“There you are, Y/N!” The familiar voice of your mother appeared at your side, obviously flustered as she hugged you just to lean in to say through gritted teeth, “You are late, young lady.”

“Hi, Mom,” you forced a smile in return, ending the disquieting hug as soon as possible.

“Oh, Sungchan!” She threw her arms around him next, her joy genuine this time.

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N,” he robotically leaned down to hug her back. “I apologize for our tardiness, that was entirely my fault. I was late picking Y/N up and—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waved off his apology, patting his cheek with her hand that wasn’t holding a glass of wine. “The man’s dead, he’s not going anywhere.”

Sungchan smoothly removed himself from her grasp and wrapped his arm around you again. “Of course. Thank you. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

“So sweet, as always,” she laughed fondly. Turning to the other relatives, she explained, “Sungchan is one of the few things my daughter’s done right, I swear. I don’t know why he sticks around, honestly!”

“Excuse me—ladies’ room,” you mumbled under the laughter that had erupted from the entire circle (save for Sungchan), jerking yourself out of his warm grasp and into the crowd. You could feel bile rising in your throat as you searched blindly for a bathroom.

Slamming the bathroom door shut behind you in a far corner of the house, you tilted your head back as you took deep breaths, trying to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t even know the guy who died, crying at his wake would be fucking weird. Not to mention your mom would just make another snide comment about you being sensitive as always if she saw you like this. The more you thought about it, the harder it was to hold them back.

Once you’d somewhat composed yourself again, taking a tissue to dab at the corner of your eyes, you fanned your face, convincing yourself that your eyes weren’t that red, and unlocked the door. The house was eerily quiet, however, quieter than when you’d entered the bathroom, even accounting for the isolated corner that you were in. Mourners eyed you rather obviously as you walked by, whispering among themselves. Your skin prickled uncomfortably under their gazes.

Before you arrived at the front room that you’d left everyone else at, Sungchan found you, his head easy to spot over the crowd. He caught your elbow in a gentle grasp, ushering you in the direction you had just come from.

“Let’s step outside for a second,” he murmured to you, pushing the back door open.

The chill of winter was still present in the air as snowflakes had begun falling while you were inside. He immediately slipped his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” You asked him after the door had closed behind the two of you, watching as he started pacing in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sighed. “She’s always like that, isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry, she’s usually better in front of people, especially you; she just had too much to drink I think—”

“No, God, why are you apologizing for her being awful to you?” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I’m sorry, I should’ve seen that sooner. It shouldn’t have had to happen right in front of my face for me to know. God, it was always right there, if I had just opened my stupid fucking eyes. I am so sorry.”

You dug your teeth out of your bottom lip, inhaling shakily. “I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize for her. She should be apologizing to you. They all should.”

“No, I’m apologizing for me. I… didn’t tell the whole truth when I broke up with you. I did need space, but I didn’t tell you why.” Your tears were freezing cold as they fell down your cheeks, but you didn’t bother wiping them. Your words finally paused Sungchan’s angry pacing, and he slowed to a stop to listen to you. “Imagine the best part of you being somebody else… I didn’t want my family’s expectations to make me hate you. I needed to… figure out how I felt about myself. But after, I couldn’t even tell them that we broke up. Because I-I didn’t want to disappoint them again, make them hate me even more for taking away the only part of me they liked: you.”

“Oh, Y/N…” He breathed out, face contorting in pain. “I’m sorry, for whatever I did that made you feel like you couldn’t tell me this before.”

“You were just trying to impress your girlfriend’s family and diffuse the tension, it’s understandable,” you sniffed, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater.

“No, I should’ve been defending you, on your side one hundred percent. I was your boyfriend, not theirs.”

“Can—” You pulled the suit jacket tighter around you as a gust of wind blew in snowflakes under the awning you were standing beneath. “I think I’d like to go home.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Sungchan nodded in the direction of the side gate for the two of you to make a stealthy exit.

The back door opened then, and you didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“Y/N! There you are!” Your mother was accompanied by the heating from inside the house continuously seeping out as she stood in the open doorway. “Brr! It’s cold. Get back in here and give Sungchan his coat back, sweetie, the poor dear has got to be freezing to death!”

“I gave it to her, and she’s keeping it,” Sungchan replied firmly, pointedly flipping up the collar of the jacket to protect your neck against the wind. “Thank the host for us, we’re leaving now.”

“Now?! But you just—”

“Now. Goodbye.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, ushering you away from her and towards the gate again.

“Y/N, I can’t believe you’re so ungrateful that you’re making Sungchan—” She had descended the short step from the house to the porch to grab your arm and try to halt your leaving.

Sungchan took her hand and removed it from your wrist, stepping in front of you and fully concealing you from her. “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough earlier. You’re the ungrateful one. You have a daughter who is kind enough to put up with your bullshit—Constantly dragging her out to places last minute and humiliating her in front of people to make yourself feel better. You should be ashamed to call yourself a parent. Honestly, I can’t believe that someone so kind, so incredibly down-to-Earth and considerate of others was raised by someone as cruel as you. So yes, we will be going, and I don’t want you to say another word to her while we do.”

He once again wrapped his arm around you, hurrying through the freshly fallen snow. Shoving the gate open, he continued marching you on down the street away from that house until the two of you were able to finally hail a taxi. Sungchan opened the door and guided you in first, and then firmly shut it behind you, giving your apartment address to the driver. He brushed the snowflakes from your hair and shoulders with rough but attentive hands, and you sat patiently as he did so. His entire face was red, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or not, as a vein bulged out on his forehead that usually wasn’t there.

“Thank you, Sungchan,” you muttered, scooting over until your sides were pressed together, then took one of his hands, lacing your fingers with his.

He squeezed your hand tightly, patting the back of it with his other hand. “I’ll do it again. As many times as you want me to, as many times as I have to.”

At your front door, Sungchan was still holding your hand as you approached with your key in your other hand. You turned to him hopefully, “Do you want to stay for dinner? We can watch a movie or something…”

“Of course. Whatever you want, Y/N,” he agreed.

Your apartment of course didn’t have pictures of you and Sungchan, you had moved in after the two of you broke up. He’d only caught glimpses of the inside the couple times he’d picked you up for your cousin’s wedding and the funeral today since then—this was the first time he was actually entering, and looked around with interest as he followed you towards your room.

“Cute place,” he commented.

“Thanks.” You rifled through your drawers to grab a couple specific items of clothing that you knew were deep in there. “Here.”

He looked down at the pair of sweatpants and graphic t-shirt you’d handed him, arching an eyebrow at you. “I thought you’d lost these…?”

“I meant to give them back,” you insisted half-heartedly.

“Really? When?”

“When they stopped being comfy…”

He laughed, landing a large hand on your head to pat your hair affectionately. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What do you want to watch?” You asked, putting Sungchan’s plate of food on your coffee table and picking up the remote to turn the TV on. “Oh! I saw this documentary about yokai the other day that I think you’d like!”

“Really? Did you stay awake for the whole thing this time?” Sungchan teased as you opened the app on your TV.

“No, I didn’t watch because I thought you—” You cut yourself off. “I found something else. Do you want to watch it?”

“Sounds interesting,” he said, taking a big bite of his food. “Pull it up, if you think you can stay awake.”

“You know I like to fall asleep to documentaries on purpose because the narrators’ voices are relaxing,” you huffed. As you started searching it up, something occurred to you, and you turned to Sungchan with a thoughtful frown on your face. “Hey, why were you ready for a funeral so quick anyway?”

He pushed around some of his food with his utensil, not meeting your eyes. “Mm, Taro dragged me out on this double date thing…”

“Oh.”

He shrugged, then rubbed your back, letting his hand rest there. “I’m glad I bailed. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Honest.”

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Channie. There’s no one else I would’ve wanted with me today. Really.”

“This is us now, remember? Just weddings and funerals.”

“And the occasional sleepover,” you mused, clicking play on the documentary.

“And the occasional sleepover,” he echoed, pulling you closer and resting his head on yours.

That night, the two of you winded down after some very interesting documentaries—with you only beginning to nod off on Sungchan’s shoulder towards the end of the second one—working in quiet symbiosis to clean the dishes and tidy up. When you saw Sungchan start heading towards the couch, you felt a pull in your gut. Then, before you could think it through, the words were tumbling out of your mouth, something about how your couch was way too small for him to sleep comfortably. And after a beat of hesitation, of giving you time to backpedal if you wanted, he was following you down the hall towards your room.

The empty space between you felt insurmountable after you settled under the covers, like there was a whole ocean there instead of your duvet. You didn’t go to sleep wrapped up in Sungchan’s arms, or with your head in the crook of his neck, or with his hand gently carding through your hair like you used to. But as you closed your eyes and rolled onto your side away from him, trying to grasp at the thing that was poking out of your heart so you could finally pull it out, you at least got to go to sleep listening to his even breaths. And for right now, that meant everything.

“Do you think…” You handed Sungchan his cup of coffee in the morning, trying not to ruminate too much about how cute he looked with his bedhead. “Do you think we’ll ever…?”

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised as he slowly lifted the mug to his mouth and took a sip, then lowered it back down the counter. “Ever…?”

You pulled at the sleeves of your hoodie anxiously. “You know, get back together?”

He sighed, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry, that was—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he reassured you, taking another sip. “I just… Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“I’m just waiting on you. To be ready, finally figure out how you feel about yourself. Until you want me back in your space again.”

“But I thought you were on a double date yesterday?”

“We hadn’t even gotten to the restaurant when you called. I didn’t know it was a date until Shotaro tried wrestling my phone from me when he saw it was you. That’s why I missed your call in the first place, by the way.”

Hot tears pricked at your eyes, but you couldn’t even pinpoint why you were crying this time. Sungchan stood up from the chair he had been sitting in at your kitchen table, crossing your kitchen in one long stride to wrap his arms around you and bring you into his chest. You buried your face in his shirt as you tried to get a handle on even a single thing you were thinking or feeling. He stroked the back of your head with a large hand, encouraging you to breathe. You wiped your eyes and looked up at Sungchan. His image wavered in your watery vision, but you could just make out that his eyes were teary, too. Your gaze flicked down to his mouth, swept up in being this close to him again, overwhelmed at how sweet he was, how perfect he was. Apparently reading your mind, he brushed some hair away from your face before leaning down to drop a fleeting kiss to your forehead.

He stepped back with a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “So that’s how you felt then.”

“I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “I’m not-I’m—”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Take all the time you need.”

[jung yusung: attached image]

You blinked several times at the text notification that had just popped up at the top of your phone screen. Then it was followed by another.

[jung yusung: We didn’t have your address, so I’m just making sure you had this]

It was a wedding invite, for Sungchan’s brother’s wedding next month. You did technically still have it on your phone calendar, leftover from when you’d saved the date way back when it was announced while you were still dating Sungchan. As far as Yusung should be concerned, to your understanding, your address should be Sungchan’s address, and he already sent your invite months ago.

You dragging Sungchan to a distant cousin’s wedding was one thing, but Sungchan and his brother were quite close, and you had also become good friends with him and his fiancée in the time that you and Sungchan dated. It just felt wrong to lie to them.

Right as you had started typing your explanation to him, another text came through.

[jung yusung: Sungchan told us yesterday that you two broke up. We want you there because you’re family either way]

You immediately called Sungchan. It rang a few times before he picked up.

“Y/N?” His tone was clearly worried.

“Hey, Sungchan,” you smiled half-heartedly despite the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“Hey,” he replied, relieved presumably at the fact that it didn’t sound like you were actively crying. You imagined that he was smiling a little bit as well. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. How about you?”

“Good. Just uh, leaving a fitting, actually.”

“For your brother’s wedding?”

“Yeah, it’s coming up fast.”

“Next month.”

“Oh, you remember.”

“Actually, Sungchan, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

“I’m glad you called, I need to tell you—”

“Me first?” You requested.

“Okay.”

“Why did you tell your family that we broke up?”

“You know.” He paused. “Uhm, because we did?”

Fair. “Yeah, but why now?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Ahh… I didn’t tell them at first, because I kind of didn’t want to believe it, and then I was ashamed. That I couldn’t keep the best thing that ever happened to me. Like, you said it wasn’t my fault, and I believed you, but I felt like if I told them, it would still look like that. That I failed somehow. I just didn’t want to deal with that. But after the last funeral, that whole thing with your mom… I couldn’t keep being selfish like that. Especially with Yusung and Hyesoo’s wedding coming up, they’d be expecting you and me there as a couple. It wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

“Thanks.”

“How do you know I finally told them?”

“Yusung told me,” you admitted, biting your cheek. “That’s why I’m calling. He personally re-invited me to the wedding, even though we’re not together. I wanted to talk to you about it, though. If it’s going to be weird for you, I won’t go.”

“No, Y/N,” he immediately replied. “I know you’re friends with Yusung and Hyesoo. They miss you and want you there, too.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. Weddings and funerals, right?”

“Right,” you confirmed.

“I’m going to get there early and have groomsman stuff to do, but uh, I’ll have Taro pick you up, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Great.”

Today was Yusung and Hyesoo’s wedding, and you were fixing your hair for maybe the fiftieth time in the bathroom mirror when your doorbell rang, followed by a series of peppy knocks. Rushing to grab your phone and purse, you opened it to greet your friend on the other side with a breathless smile.

“Taro, hi,” you hugged him. Shotaro had been the one to introduce you and Sungchan in the first place, a mutual friend, though you knew he and Sungchan were friends for years before you ever met.

“Hey, Y/N,” Shotaro squeezed you back. “How you been?”

“Oh, good.” You shuffled out and locked your front door behind you. “How about you?”

“Same old.” He shrugged, grinned, and spun his keys around his finger. “Ready to go?”

“Yep!”

The ceremony hadn’t started yet, people were still milling around, chatting, and finding seats. Taking your seats to one side of the aisle, you anxiously smoothed over your clothes as you tried not to feel like you were intruding. Yusung had personally invited you despite everything. You were here to support your friends.

“Relax, Y/N,” Taro had apparently sensed your nerves, flashing you another smile. “You’re not the one getting married.”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, flexing your fingers in your lap to try to get out some of the nervous tension. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For anything specific, or…?”

“Taking Sungchan on that double date. Or, at least trying to.” At your friend’s skeptical look, you added, “Really, I didn’t want him to stare at a wall the whole time or something. I wanted him to keep being him.”

“I did have to trick him, he wouldn’t have said yes if he knew it was a date,” he informed you with a sigh.

“I did hear about that…”

“I don’t know your whole situation, and you don’t have to tell me. I’m sure you needed the space,” he lowered his voice and scooted in towards you as to not broadcast your conversation to every other person sitting around you. “But… Sungchan isn’t the same as before. He’s never going to be the same again. Whether or not you two get back together, he can’t just go back to how he was. And I don’t think he wants to.”

“I feel the same way,” you admitted, glancing over to where Sungchan and the other groomsmen were waiting at the end of the aisle. He caught your gaze, and his features were immediately overtaken by a big smile. You smiled and lifted your hand in a small wave back. “Loving Sungchan and being loved by him, it’s the kind of thing that changes you.”

“I didn’t take him on that date because I hate you or think that you’re not good together.”

“I didn’t think you did.” You tilted your head curiously. “So why did you?”

“Because Sungchan’s fatal flaw when it comes to you is that he wants you to be happy, no matter the detriment to him or to you.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “From what he’s told me, I don’t think you guys should’ve even broken up in the first place. He didn’t put up a fight at all, did he?”

“No, he was really understanding.”

“Idiots. The both of you. Him, for not trying to get you to talk about it first, and you for thinking he would just be the same old Sungchan like nothing happened.” He scoffed. “I mean, do you even know him?”

You took his seemingly harsh words in stride, knowing that your usually bright and cheery friend didn’t get this upset unless he really cared. “You took him on that date, and tried to take his phone so he couldn’t pick up my phone to… force him into fighting for our relationship?”

“Giving me a bit too much credit there, maybe,” Shotaro let out a chuckle. “It’s like you said. He was stuck, waiting around for you. I wanted him to do something. Either move on, or go get you back.”

Your eyes strayed to Sungchan again, fixing his tie and adjusting the finer points of his suit. Another groomsman said something to him, to which he laughed, and you felt your heart lurch.

The ceremony was incredible. You felt yourself tearing up a little with how happy you were for your friends. They shared their first kiss, and giddily half-ran back down the aisle. The rest of the wedding party filed out after them, and you caught Sungchan’s eye again then, smiling and waving. He waved back, absolutely beaming.

At the reception, there were no assigned seats save for the wedding party’s table, so you and Shotaro ended up at a table of people you learned to be college friends of the couple. You sat through the various toasts, including Sungchan’s, and were finally left to eat and chat in peace.

“Y/N!” A hand gently rested on your shoulder, and you wiped at your mouth before turning around. It was Sungchan’s mother, and you eagerly greeted her as she bent down to hug you. “Oh, I thought that was you.”

“Hi, yes. How are you?” You accepted the hug from her husband as well.

“We’re well.” She still looked absolutely stupefied, like she couldn’t believe that you were real. “Both boys said you were coming, but still…”

“Yusung and Hyesoo invited me,” you smiled awkwardly. “Again…”

“I’m glad to see you, sweetheart,” she sighed wistfully, patting your cheek, then turned to your friend. “And you too, Taro.”

“I thought I was invisible for a second!” He huffed in feigned exasperation, standing up to give both parents hugs, making everyone laugh.

“Our third son could wait for a moment,” Mr. Jung teased back.

“Forgotten middle child as always,” he tsked and shook his head.

As they moved to chat with the other guests at your table, Shotaro nudged your arm and nodded towards the wedding party table, which was relatively vacant as many were off mingling. “Do you want to go give our congrats to the bride and groom?”

“Sure, yeah.” You nodded, accepting his hand up.

Approaching the table, you saw it disappointingly devoid of Sungchan, but still beamed at your friends as you arrived.

“Y/N! Shotaro!” Hyesoo squealed and got to her feet to wrap the both of you in tight hugs. “Hi!”

“Congrats!” You laughed and hugged her back, careful to avoid bumping the tiara/veil on her head. “How does it feel?”

“Awesome,” Yusung gushed, hugging you next once his wife had let you go. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

“I’m good, really,” you assured him. “Thank you.”

“My brother’s around here somewhere—” He got on his tiptoes to try to peer around the venue.

“Don’t worry about our problems. Today’s your wedding, seriously,” you waved him off with a laugh, trying to pull him back down to flat feet. “You don’t have to be big brother for one day.”

“Can’t, sorry. No off switch.”

You shook your head, despite your smile, “I know, I know.”

After a bit more chit chatting about their wedding—the venue, the food, Hyesoo’s dress, the decorations, a debacle with the florist—you and Shotaro excused yourself to let the next guests that were hanging around nearby have a chance to talk to the couple. It was then that Sungchan finally found the two of you, having shed his suit jacket at some point as he loosened his tie and fanned himself with his dress shirt.

“Hey, guys, are you having a good time?” He asked, clearly out of breath.

“Yeah, man, are you?” Shotaro laughed incredulously.

“You look like you’re about to have a stroke, Channie,” you pressed the back of your fingers to his pink cheek, furrowing your brow when you felt how warm he was. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him over to the drinks table. “When was the last time you drank water?”

“This morning? Maybe?” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Definitely at the rehearsal dinner. Last night.”

You grabbed a cup and filled it up from the ice-cold jug clearly label ‘water’ in a fancy cursive font. Pushing it into his hand, you said sternly, “Drink some. Now.”

He gulped down the first cup obediently, and you immediately refilled it before handing it back to him. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Was the whole building about to collapse or something?” Shotaro asked. “You looked freaked.”

“No, just felt like it,” he chuckled, taking another long swig of water. “But everything’s fine now.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You squeezed his arm.

“I’m uh—I’m going to go use the bathroom,” your friend announced loudly. “Then maybe talk to some people. For a long time.”

“Oh, really subtle, Taro,” Sungchan snorted.

“As a freight train,” you agreed, watching him click his tongue, snap his fingers at the both of you, and saunter off.

“Thank you for coming,” Sungchan said. “Really, you—It’s good to see you again.”

“I’m glad I came,” you smiled up at him, fixing his rumpled collar for him. “You looked good up there, Channie.”

“The wonders that a tailored suit will do.”

“I can’t believe that you have two suits now.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called character development?”

You laughed, maybe harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help the bubbly feeling in your chest from being back around Sungchan again. You hadn’t felt this happy since the last time you were with him.

He had a fond smile on his face as he watched you. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You messed with your own outfit bashfully.

“If I can say that…?”

“Yes, Sungchan, you can compliment me,” you laughed, pushing on his shoulder.

He let himself be jostled a little bit as he grinned at you. “Just making sure.”

Still with a tug at the corner of your mouth, you caught his eye, and slipped your hand into his.

“It’s your brother’s wedding, and you seem stressed enough,” you breathed out hesitantly. “We obviously don’t have to talk today. But I’m ready.”

For a stomach-dropping second, he froze. Then his hand was tightening around yours and he was pulling you away from the drinks table, through the crowd, out the back door of the room, and down the halls at a dizzying pace that you could barely keep up with. You didn’t know where you were until the cool nighttime air hit your skin. Stars dotted the inky sky, and it took you a few moments after your eyes had adjusted to the darkness to realize that you were back at the courtyard where the outdoor ceremony had taken place, nothing but the arch of flowers left.

Each of you just looked at the other for a few silent moments. You gulped, the sound comically loud in your ears. You got the two of you into this mess, it was only right that you should go first.

“I-I’m so sorry, Channie,” you began, clasping his hand desperately. “I did let my family get to me, and instead of talking to you, I ran away from you. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. And…” He grabbed your other hand too. “I’m sorry I just let things pass me by. Your family treating you like that, our relationship. Me not doing anything because I didn’t want to fight… that wasn’t fair to either of us.”

“I forgive you, too,” you sniffled, feeling the tears rising up faster than you could stop them.

“So, you’re really ready to try for more than just wedding and funerals?”

“Absolutely,” you smiled and wiped at your eyes. “We can’t really attend anything hosted by my family anymore, so we need some new date ideas anyway.”

“Wait what?”

“After the last funeral, you and I are sort of banned from all future Y/L/N family events until we apologize. Per my mother,” you admitted.

Sungchan’s eyes widened. “Y/N, oh shit, I’m so—”

“Don’t. They don’t deserve an apology from either of us,” you reassured him, cupping his cheek. “I missed you so bad, Sungchan.”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight to him as he buried his face in your neck. “God, I missed you too, baby.”

You hugged him back, feeling the painful knots that had been ensnared around your chest for months now unravel.

“Do-Do you think we should go back in?” You murmured.

“Probably…” He sighed, not loosening his grip on you. “We probably missed their first dance.”

A crack of thunder made you jump out of your skin, and you felt Sungchan startle in your arms as well. You looked up at the sky, putting a hand over your heart as you could feel your heartbeat racing, “Fuck, that scared the hell out of me.”

The words were barely out of your mouth when a drop of water hit your arm. Then another. Then it was absolutely pouring, and both you and Sungchan were soaked in seconds, before you could even head for shelter. You looked at each other is disbelief.

“Well… shit,” you sputtered out a chuckle, looking down at your drenched clothes.

“I think we’d be a slipping hazard on the dance floor at this point,” Sungchan laughed, pushing his wet hair from his face as he looked up into the rain. “Kind of feels nice, though.”

“Hm.”

You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He managed to catch you, letting out a chuckle as he stumbled back a step. The sounds of the rain hitting the stones underfoot filled your ears as he enveloped you in his warm arms. Sungchan began to sway the two of you to a simple beat, humming under his breath as he rested his cheek on your hair.

“Channie?”

“Baby?”

You looked up at him, cupping his cheek. Your eyes followed a drop of water as it ran down his nose and dripped off. Sungchan covered your palm with his before leaning down and pressing your lips together. You grabbed his tie to pull him even closer as his other hand settled on your lower back, fingertips pressing you into him.

“Shh,” Sungchan tried to quiet your laughs, before immediately giggling himself.

The rain had eventually let up, but the two of you were unfortunately still quite damp by the time you finally reentered the venue. You had wrung out what water you could to avoid dripping all over the place, but it was quite obvious where you two had been.

“You shush!” You hissed back, pinching his arm that you were holding.

“I just need to get my phone and my keys and my jacket, and your purse, and we can go,” he reiterated the plan. “I might have a couple towels in my car, so you don’t have to sit on a wet seat.”

The upbeat music had gotten louder the nearer you were to the main room, and the two of you stopped at the entrance to look around. A few other guests had already left, you could tell, and most were congregated on the dance floor, engrossed among themselves.

“Wait here,” Sungchan whispered, squeezing your hand before taking off.

You hung back at the entrance, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible and avoiding anybody’s gaze.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Hyesoo had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, unaccompanied by her husband or anybody else. She gasped as she took in your drenched appearance. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just stepped outside for a second and got stuck in the rain,” you tried to assuage her concerns. “I’m going to head out though, don’t want to drip all over the place, you know?”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She tried to usher you down the hall. “Here, we have stuff at the bridal suite. Where was Sungchan? Or Shotaro? Why did they leave you alone?”

You tried to politely decline and stay put. “It’s fine, Hyesoo, really. Thank you, but it’s late. I was going to head out soon anyway.”

A familiar laugh came from behind you, and both you and Hyesoo turned to look. It was Shotaro, toting the similarly damp Sungchan with him. Sungchan had his suit jacket, phone and keys in one hand, and in the other, which Shotaro had the wrist of, was your purse. Shotaro must have been back at your table and caught him when he went to retrieve it for you.

“Knew it,” Shotaro was still laughing. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

Hyesoo looked between you and Sungchan, her expression changing from that of worry and pity to a knowing smile. She didn’t outright laugh like your other friend, simply letting go of your elbow and stepping back next to Shotaro. “Gotcha. Thank you for coming, Y/N, Sungchan.”

“Congrats again,” you squeezed your friend’s hand. “Give Yusung my best too.”

“I will be telling Yusung. For sure,” she giggled.

“Bye, Hyesoo,” Sungchan shook his head, but nevertheless pecked his sister-in-law on the cheek. “Tell Yusung we said bye.”

“See you, Taro!” You waved to him over your shoulder as Sungchan had already started escorting you out.

“Buh-bye!” Shotaro waved back zealously.

Sungchan fetched the promised two towels from his backseat, a little rumpled, and immediately tried to use both of them to dry you off. You took one from him to run over his hair and press against the wettest part of his clothes. He put his dry suit jacket on your shoulders and opened the passenger door for you, laying the towel down on the seat. You pulled him in for one more sweet kiss before getting in.

Sungchan got in with his own towel wrapped around his waist, then started the car. He immediately cranked up the heat, which you were grateful for, rubbing at the goosebumps on your skin.

“Hey,” he called for you softly.

You immediately looked over at him, finding him already gazing at you with the most tender smile on his face as he reached for your hand to hold it over the center console.

“I missed you.”

You kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you, Channie. For not giving up on me.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me either.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

⤷ masterlist

[sadistic-kiss]

Double Date~ Toji x Reader x Sukuna

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Characters: Toji Fushiguro and Ryoumen Sukuna (X Fem Reader)

Universe: AU

Rating: Explicit (all da goods)

Genre: Smutty

Kinks: BDSM, Spanking, Breeding and Dacryphilla 

Ingredients/Commission given by: Yorus @yorusranddie

Cover work also done by @yorusranddie ✨❤️✨

Summary: You were supposed to set up a double date for Toji Fushiguro and Sukuna Ryoumen with your mom and aunt so how did YOU end up in bed with them?

✨✨✨✨✨

You hummed to the tune playing from the car speakers, Billie Eilish Lunch singing from your lips. Your head was propped up on your hand as you sank into the back seats of the red and black sports car. Your thumb moves up and down on your phone scrolling through pictures of your friends and silly memes.

“I can eat that girl for lunch… dances on my tongue...” The words were a second thought while you double-tapped your screen liking a video. 

Within the next moment, the radio was turned down.

“So you like eating pussy huh?” 

Your eyes rolled up to the rearview mirror where Sukuna’s red ones looked at you. 

You put a lot of sass in your words as you say, “That’s not a very family-friendly question unc.”

You could see how his eyes narrowed at you, hating when you called him ‘unc’ or ‘uncle’. He was your best friend's uncle but not yours. You just like to tease him. Hear the way he gripped the steering wheel. Get under his skin. It was a fun pastime. 

“What did I say about calling me that?”

“Well if you date my aunt doesn’t that make you my uncle anyway?”

“That-“

“Watch the road Sukuna.” Yuuji elbowed his uncle from the passenger seat. The car swiveled a bit as Sukuna snatched the wheel back. 

“I got this kid.” The older man scoffed, his ego wounded twice within the same minute. 

You let out a teasing giggle, returning to your phone. That’s when a notification pops up on your screen.

Mom: Sorry sweetie but-

You couldn't see the rest of the message before it disappeared, but your stomach sunk from what you had already seen from the preview. You quickly got to your messages to see the full text from your mom.

Mom: Sorry sweetie but your aunt and I had decided to cancel. We just don't think we are ready for another commitment. Please apologize to Mr. Fushiguro and Ryoumen.

“Fuck-“

“What?”

“N-nothing…” you quickly texted back- what does she mean they aren't coming! This is so last minute! 

Me: Mom you have been divorced for like three years! And Auntie said she needed someone to get over her last relationship.

Mom: I think we are just going to have a little girl's night. You know love ourselves! You’re welcome to come over too if you want. 

You puffed your cheeks in annoyance. What the hell were you going to say to freaking Sukuna and Toji?! Just as you looked up the car rolled to a stop, parking in front of Mr. Fushiguro’s house.

Yuuji hopped out to get into the back seat and as he slid in next to you, you pointed at your phone, showing him the message. He mouthed the words as he read, head leaned to the side a bit while he slowly buckled his seat belt in. 

“Yikes.” He hissed under his breath. 

“Tell me about it…” 

“What are we talking about back there?” Sukuna questioned with a raised brow.

“Uh…” you opened your mouth but your words were interrupted as the front and back doors opened.

“Heyo .” Yuuji greeted Megumi as he slid into the seat.

“Sup.” Megumi salutes and wave.

Toji plopped in the front, you can see Sukuna sizing him up. Once Toji got situated he looked toward the tatted man. 

“Toji.” He introduced himself while reaching over to shake his hand. 

“Sukuna.” The two clapped hands with a firm shake. 

You could see their veins bulge as if they were trying to break each other's hands. Their eye contact was firm and well. Like a predator meeting another predator- taunting each other. Trying to show who is the king of the jungle. 

Yuuji coughed as he leaned forward with his phone, pointing to the address of the club. “Nobara said this place was pretty good for the price.”

You blanked at Yuuji, did he not read what your mom sent? The party was over! Well… maybe it didn’t have to be. You can pretend you've never seen it…

The interruption from Yuuji broke up the big dick contest.

Sukuna typed in the address while Toji greeted you, “Hey, you look nice.” He complimented. 

You gave him an appreciative smile, “Thank you, sir. You look nice as well.”

You could see the little glare sent your way from Sukuna in the rearview mirror but it seemed only you noticed. You knew he was pissed that you just called Toji sir while you called him unc. L-o- fucking-l. You laugh on the inside keeping your eyes on Toji.

“I hope your mother thinks so too, did you send her the address?”

“I- yup. I sure did.”

After Sukuna got the GPS started he took off on the road. Yuuji and Megumi were the main ones talking… well… it was more Yuuji talking and Megumi responding with his usual bored tone. 

The entire ride there you were planning how you were going to tell the two men in front. Staged it in your head. Played out the scene. You were going to put on your best acting performance. 

Sukuna pulled up to the colorful lighted club with a giant sign that read ‘Special Grade’ and as you were getting out you let out a little gasp while looking at your phone. Everyone looked toward you expectantly. 

“Ah~ sorry guys my mom and aunt are staying in tonight.” You smacked your lips giving everyone an apologetic look.

“Seriously?” Sukuna deadpanned.

“Yeah… that sucks… well we are already here might as well have fun!” You didn’t get dressed up for nothing. Hopping out of the car you closed the door and walked toward the building. Yuuji and Megumi by your side.

“They haven’t gotten out of the car yet.” Megumi pointed out.

“Eh, they are just in shock, nothing a few drinks can solve- NOBARA!” You squealed running up to your best friend as the two of you hopped up and down in excitement. 

“Oi I’m your boyfriend and you give her more excitement than me!” Yuuji pouted as Nobara rolled her eyes.

“Oh hush~ let’s go have some fun… uh where’s your family I thought they were coming?”

“My family decided to ditch us.”

“My dad’s in the car with Sukuna, probably contemplating life.”

“Pfft, in the wise words of Shoko everything can be solved with alcohol.”

“That’s what I said!”

“That is a terrible motto to go by.”

You laughed as the four of you walked toward the entrance. With a glance back you saw Toji and Sukuna finally getting out of the car. You felt a little bad for them but with their looks, they could pick up any girl. What was one little rejection going to do to them?

~

Okay, they were pissing you off. And by they you meant Toji and Sukuna. The two men had gotten a booth together, taking shots in their little corner. 

You’ve seen plenty of girls try to talk to them but they turned everyone away! 

Were they going to sit there all night knocking shot after shot like some sad teenage boys?!

You were dancing on the light-up floor, red sequin dress swishing side to side, catching the colorful rays of light flashing. Alcohol filled your blood while you groove to the music, but you kept glaring at Sukuna and Toji. Body on autopilot while your mind was reeling. 

“You okay?” Nobara questioned as she shimmied and swayed around with Yuuji. 

“Yeah!” You nodded your head and gave her a thumb up just in case she didn’t hear you over the music. "I'm going to go check on our sad boys!" Breaking away from the group you beelined to the table in the corner.

They were talking but once they saw you coming the conversation stopped, the two of them gave you their attention as you planted yourself before their table.

"Are you guys kidding?" You questioned with your gaze bouncing between the two.

"What?" Sukuna screamed over the loud music.

You leaned upon the table with your hands on top, getting closer to them. So close that you could smell the alcohol upon their lips mingle in the air.

"I said...are you guys kidding!?"

Toji raised a brow, "What's wrong sweetheart?"

"You two! You guys are just sitting here drinking alone, you don't want to like dance or have fun?" You question hooking your thumb behind you.

Sukuna snorted, "I don't want to dance with someone unworthy of my time."

"Besides..." Toji began with a little grin, "Whoever said we aren't having fun?"

You release a sharp laugh, "Ha! What you two BFF's now?"

"Well..." Toji drawled with a sneaky tone, "...It would appear we got a lot more in common than we thought."

It may have been the alcohol but as the two looked at you with a little snicker you had figured the joke was about them both being rejected. 

Little did you know...

"Listen..." You began with a little sigh. "I'm sorry my aunt and mom ditched you guys, I don't know what is going on with them but I hope you guys can still have fun. Let me get you a shot at least."

"On your paycheck?" Sukuna teased.

"So then you know how serious I am!"

"Nah...I'll get it but you'll take one with us." He got up gesturing for you to sit down.

"Deal." You grinned as you slid into the spot Sukuna was in, the seat warm. 

As you waited for Sukuna to come back with your drinks you looked toward Toji. You were going to say something but something about him caught you off guard. He was ruggedly handsome. The club lights flashed across his face and danced in his green eyes. His scar only adds to his appearance… you wanted to trace your finger over it. Never had you viewed him in such a way. He was your friend's dad after all and you tried to set him up with your mom. Not that they really knew much about each other but it was just kind of like a… ‘why not?’. See if they kick it off kind of thing. 

Megumi was tired of the man being lazy and broke, living off of his divorce money and his wife’s life insurance. You all thought…what if a woman could whip him into shape? 

Toji caught you staring at him but you were too slow to act as if you weren’t. 

“You stare anymore and ya gonna make me blush sweetheart.” He flashed you a grin that shouldn’t have caused your stomach to stir. 

“My bad, I was just looking at your scar.” You lie with ease. “How’d you get it?”

“Ah, this?” He rubbed the back of his fingers upon it. “Got into it with my old man when I was young. We never really saw eye to eye.“

Megumi had told you that they were not close to the Zenin family. Apparently, his grandpa was a narcissistic control freak. “That’s a horrible thing to do to a kid…I’m glad you don’t associate with them anymore and that you didn’t follow in the abuse train.”

Toji seemed pleased with your response, “Yeah…dude was a coward. I’m not a great dad but I don’t think I’m too bad.”

“Well, you lost your wife, so being a single parent for your child and your bitchy ex-wife is… ya know kinda crazy. And come on…” you grin while elbowing him, “… I wouldn’t have set up this date with my mom if I didn’t think you were a good man. You just need some… help.”

“Help huh?”

“Like~” you pop your lips, “A woman’s touch or something. Tsumiki is grown and Megumi is off to college so it’s like you are stuck. Don’t take it the wrong way or anything but you and my mom got this whole I will never love again vibe going on. I think that’s horse shit-oop! Haha, my bad. I guess I usually don’t talk so freely with you.”

“Quite the sailor aren’t you?”

You let out a little laugh as the two of you enjoyed the moment. That’s when Sukuna came back with a bottle and three shot glasses. He squeezed into the booth with you in the middle, setting down the cups.

“Fucking line took forever.” Sukuna cursed filling up the shot glasses.

“See? I get it from my unc.” You joked making Toji chuckle.

Sukuna looked at both of you in confusion, “Get what from me?”

“Cursing.” You smiled grabbing your shot. 

“The fuck you do.” The three of you clinked glasses and tapped the table before knocking back the burning liquid. Sukuna let out a frat boy kind of grunt while slamming the glass down so hard you are surprised it didn’t break. “That mouth of yours was always filthy.” He looked toward you with such an expression it gave you whiplash. “Someone atta spank your ass.”

This whole thing was always a game of chicken. Teasing and flirting with each other has just been your way since what feels like the beginning. It was harmless fun. He always talked about spanking you anytime he deemed you being naughty. So you didn’t think twice as you set your gaze, looking up at Sukuna from under your thick fake lashes. 

“What? Are you going to spank me?” 

Something flashed within his eyes before he settled you with a devilish grin, he leaned closer to you but you didn’t back down. You were never one to back down. Always ready for a challenge especially when it came to Sukuna. 

He licked his lips, red gaze bouncing between your eyes and somewhere lower. He then whispered, “You would like that…wouldn’t you?”

Woah- 

Something about this felt like it was outside of the playing field. It caught you off guard. What was even more terrifying was the tiny voice in your head that said ‘yes’. Perhaps tomorrow you will blame your stubbornness on the alcohol.

You cocked your head, getting a breath away from him, “You- would like that.”

He didn’t back down, his grin only widening, “We- would like that.”

You blanked falling backward as you disengaged from your game. You look toward Toji who was watching with intense interest. His gaze locked on to you. You had forgotten he was here. Feeling embarrassed that he witnessed such a thing. Yet the way he was staring at you had your body heating up. 

Like he enjoyed watching 

Suddenly this moment felt strange. You felt naked. Exposed. Like you were in danger… but a delicious kind of danger. 

Sukuna had said ‘we’.

“What’s…going on here?” You questioned with a suspicious glare.

Toji cleared his throat as he leaned in closer to you, “Remember…when I said we both had something in common?”

You nodded slowly.

“It’s you.”

“Me?” You asked in shock.

“Yes, you.”

“No- no way! You two were supposed to be dating my mom and aunt may I remind you!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “I only said yes so you’d stop nagging me.”

Toji shrugged seemingly agreeing with the statement. “In other words, it was a good thing they canceled. Made us realize after talking we should tell you the truth.”

Your brain was unable to keep up. You felt frozen as they told you their secret. You could not believe this was happening. 

You let out a gasp as you felt someone caressing your thigh gently. Looking down you watched as Sukuna smoothed his hand up and down, creating a path of warmth that set fire to other places. Toji’s hand began to play with your hair. You were mesmerized by their touch and voices. 

“What do you say…” Toji’s words tickled one ear as Sukuna did the other. “…can you handle both of us brat?”

“…”

~

You moaned in Toji’s lap, tongues slipping against each other in a lewd slop. Your dress rode up over your ass, his hands wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. 

You felt another hand glide over your cheek, fingers slipping to your cunt. Sukuna growled from the driver's seat, trying to get the three of you home as quickly as possible. “You ain’t wearing underwear?”

Toji chuckled breaking apart from your lips, “I told you she wasn’t.”

“How did you know?” You giggle grinding yourself on top of his clothed length. 

“Because you are a naughty little vixen.” Toji slapped your ass harshly making you squeak.

“Wearing this skimpy ass outfit with no underwear.” Sukuna also gave you a harsh slap making you gasp. “Slut is just begging for it.”

Your phone had dinged, having fallen onto the floor between Toji’s feet. The screen was a text from Nobara saying she hoped you feel better. 

You had made an excuse that you felt sick and Sukuna was going to take you home. Toji had said he was tired and too old to hang with the youngins and the three of you left. Megumi and Yuuji decide to catch a ride with Nobara. 

You guys kept it cool until you were in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed that’s when the lustful dance began. The two of them take turns kissing you and pressing you up against the wall. And it didn’t end from there. You could barely get into the car, Toji pulling you into the front seat with him while telling Sukuna to drive safely. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Your thirst unable to be quenched. 

Sukuna pulled into his garage as you and Toji continued making out. You were too distracted from your session to see that you were finally at your destination. The passenger door was ripped open as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair.

“Hey!” You gasped as he pulled you out of the car, “I hope you are paying for me to get my hair done!”

“Yeah yeah I ruin it I’ll fix it.” Sukuna gave you a lustful kiss, moaning against your lips. 

“I guess the dress is on me huh?” Toji chuckled getting out of the car. 

You had already heard a tear from your dress, one of your earrings was missing and your heels had a little scruff to it. You made sure to let the men know that they would be replacing anything from their rough handling of you. 

Not that you minded. 

The door was slammed shut behind you as you were practically carried inside. You were in the foyer kissing Sukuna while Toji slipped your heels off. The three of you nearly tripped over each other to get into the bedroom. 

Sukuna unzipped your dress with dexterous fingers, pushing the fabric down. He slapped your tit making it bounce, glaring at you while he nipped your lip, “No bra either. Who let you out like this?”

“I’m a grown woman unc.” You teased. You giggled at the way he glared at you. 

You were spun around swiftly and then pushed against Toji as he snapped at him. 

“Hold her.”

You heard the rustling of a belt as Toji circled his arms around your waist. 

“What are you…” you looked back just as Sukuna yanked your wrist behind you, tying your wrist with the leather belt. You hissed at the slight discomfort. 

“Give me your belt.”

Toji shifted around as he took his belt off with one hand handing it to Sukuna. You looked at the exchange with wide eyes. Watching Sukuna fold the belt.

“Wait!”

*SMACK*

“Ai!” You jerked against Toji as the leather snapped against your ass like a swift viper. 

Sukuna grabbed a handful of your ass, shaking it as he hissed into your ear. “I don’t want to hear you ever call me unc again!” 

*SMACK*!

“Ow! Sukuna!” You were now trying to get away, the harsh slap of the belt had your cheeks ringing in pain. 

“Yeah, that’s more like it! You either call me Sukuna or sir, do you understand?” He hit your ass again as you screamed out.

“Yes! Yes!” You cried feeling your eyes water. You didn’t think he was that upset when you called him unc! It was just a prank damn!

“What was that?!” Sukuna growled. 

*SMACK*

“YESSSIR!” You cried, that last hit rocking the tears from your eyes. They trailed down your cheeks.

“Aw, she’s crying…” Toji grabbed your chin as he lifted your face. “Such a sweet face.” 

You thought he felt bad for you but it seemed to be the opposite. He liked to see your tears. 

“Let me see.” Sukuna pulled your head back, his phone in your face. 

Your eyes widened in surprise as the flash went off. 

“That’s fucking hot…” Sukuna groaned pulling the phone away as he licked at your tears. You didn’t have time to say anything about the picture as Toji licked at your other cheek, hand trailing down as he cupped your sore ass. 

You gasp, “Y-you guys are sick.” You glare at them as they only chuckle. 

“Another thing we have in common princess.” Toji grinned pushing you onto the bed. 

You gasped flopping on the bed, your leg was then grabbed as Toji stuck two fingers inside you. 

“Ah~!” You let out a gasp, pussy clinging around his fingers as if it had been dying for this. 

“Yet you are so wet…Who’s more sick, it seems you are getting off on this little masochist?”

Sukuna fisted himself out of his pants, grabbing your chin tightly, “You will be crying and wetting our cocks like the little slut you are.”

Toji used his other hand to pull his pants just underneath his length, a fiery gleam in his eyes as he smirked, “And we know you will enjoy it.”

You were shocked to hear Toji agree with such things- Sukuna yes this matched his character but never would you have known Toji to be a closeted sadist. 

Did you fuck up?

Who were you kidding? 

You let out a moan as the two men shoved their cocks inside you. Toji in your pussy while Sukuna took your mouth. 

Gentle? Never heard of her.

You were taken with wild abandonment. And true to their words you shed more tears and gushed upon their lengths. All while they laughed and taunted you with sinister words. Sukuna even dragged his fingers over your tears and wiped them on his cock before entering your cumdumped pussy. They didn’t even ask if they could cum in you- they just did. 

How was it possible that they could keep going? 

At one point you finally began to beg for them to release your wrists. But they wouldn’t. Like they didn’t want you to try to run away.

They used your body for their pleasure, saying dirty things like how they always wanted to do this to you. Bringing up times when you wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination. Their favorite was the red shorts that cupped your cheeks. They’d talk about masturbating to the thought of you and the pictures they snuck. 

You bet this is what they were talking about while sitting in the corner sharing drinks. Sharing their explicit thoughts and pictures of you. 

They are actually crazy. 

Yet you were still cumming and leaking like a broken faucet. You actually had no shame. No thought. Especially as you bounced up and down Sukuna’s length while sucking on Toji’s cock with greed. 

Your eye just so happens to catch the clock on the dresser as you gasp pulling back, “oh crap-“

Sukuna slapped your ass as he leaned back with his hands behind his head, “Keep bouncing.” 

“M-my birth control- I need to go take it!” You usually take it before bed but you must not have heard your alarm since your phone was in the car. 

That seemed to pause them.

“You what?” Toji questioned.

“I was supposed to take it at eight, I forgot. I was too drunk…maybe I can get a plan b tomorrow… or today seeing as it’s fucking 2 am.”

Sukuna snorted, grabbing your hips tightly, “Not a chance.” He then picked you up and dropped you making you scream. “I’m gonna fuck a baby in you now.”

“Fuck off we didn’t discuss this.” Toji growled while getting behind you. He pushed you down so you could press into Sukuna’s chest and then you felt something poke at your pussy right alongside Sukuna’s cock. 

You gasp, “No! I can’t-“

Toji and Sukuna lifted you up as they both tried to cram their cocks inside your cunt. You released a scream as one cock left and another entered, back and forth back and forth. You were stretched unbelievably- the intensity had you sweating and drooling. You were losing your mind. Their vigor turned into something more insatiable. You were lucky they didn’t try to jam both cocks inside you at the same time- you don’t think you’d be able to stretch that much. This already was too much. 

You couldn’t stop moaning and crying, begging for something. Perhaps mercy. But they didn’t know the differences, and neither did you. 

“Please-! Please-! Ah- please!”

“You want-mm- my cum baby?”

“No, -Ngh- she wants mine. Say it- ah- say you want it.”

You were drowning in it all so you did as you were told screaming, “Yes! Yes, I want it-i-I want your cum!” But you never clarify who’s. That was their own personal problem. 

“Fuck-yes baby keep begging for it-“

“I’m going to give it to you- you better take it- “

The two groaned as they came inside you again for the -who knows how many times tonight- but this time it seemed like they gave you the fattest load. The thought of you carrying their child was something that truly kicked off their lust. Your orgasm had you seeing stars and soon you felt as though you blacked out. 

You felt them finally untie your hands but your arms just hung with exhaustion. You were laid in the middle of the bed, letting out a light groan. Body exhausted. You had finally hit your limit. 

“Crazy…” you mumbled. “Crazy…” 

“You bring it out of us.”

Sukuna and Toji shared a laugh as they leaned back in bed cuddling with you, fine with lying in all of the mess and sweat. Filthy men they were. But you doubt that you were far from them. Because you more than enjoyed yourself tonight. And now you will expect to be spoiled like this from now on. 

Although you wonder if they were joking about the whole pregnancy thing…were they really trying to get you pregnant?

That was a problem for sober you. 

✨✨✨✨✨

[charmedbystars]

Hii can I request 1610 Miles x f-reader who both go to different schools and she doesn't know he's Spiderman. So on the night of her graduation, Miles didn't show leading to an argument and spilled hurtful words. But Miles confesses who he is and comforts her best he can :(

(Got dumped on grad lol🫠)

pairing: 1610! miles x reader

summary: it's your grad night and the person who said they wouldn't miss it for the world, misses it.

content: angst and fluff

a/n: i am sososooo sorry you got dumped on the day of ur grad. that's such a mean move and they def don't deserve you :((( i hope you're doing better and just know you got this <3 congrats on ur grad tho! u worked so hard to get where you are remember! ( i did not proof read this since i wrote it at two am ;()

it sucked going to different schools as your boyfriend. knowing that you guys won’t be able to see each other as often and missing even doing the most mundane things, such as just walking to class, you made it your priority to build your relationship on communication. it was all going well and you guys would try to fit into each other's schedule the best you could… up until recently. miles has been showing up late to all dates recently, or just completely canceling at the last minute. sometimes, miles makes it up to you, but it still hurts. you don’t want to make a huge deal out of it, especially since you are both graduating soon and going to college. being the optimist, you try to think of the future with miles, maybe schedules clearing up before college and maybe even choosing college classes that’ll allow time slots to see each other in between. 

although right now, you aren’t focusing on the future. it’s graduation day. it’s supposed to be perfect. celebrating a milestone, a moment where you are congratulated for everything you’ve worked for over the past years. all your family and friends are there, beaming with pride. all except one person – miles. 

you had been waiting for this day forever. planning what you were gonna wear to walk across the stage weeks before. giving out tickets to who could come and save seats to watch you. it’s all you and miles talked about recently. him being excited for yours and his graduation. he double pinky promised that he’d be there when you asked him to check a hundred percent that he’d be there. miles responded verbatim, “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

and you believed him. 

so when it was time for the ceremony to begin and miles wasn’t answering the texts you sent over an hour ago, you started getting anxious. 

sitting among your classmates, waiting to line up, and eventually walking across the stage, you eventually collect your diploma with a smile and a handshake. 

mingling with your friends and taking tons of pictures, you kept your composure well, but your heart wasn’t in it. the person who promised you was absent, casting a shadow over everything. you were so confused as to why he wasn’t there. 

cap and gown hung up and diploma up on display. you were home. 

dinner went well and your friends were there to distract you. although when your parents asked where miles was, the bubble that you were in popped, not knowing how to respond and just shrugging your shoulders. your parents understood and didn’t bring it up. 

so you’re in your pajamas and getting ready to climb into bed, when you hear tapping on your window. walking over you see miles in a big jacket and eyes downcast. you wanted to just leave him outside but you wanted to hear what he had to say, so you slid open the window to let him in. 

“i’m so so sorry, my love,” he started, but you quickly cut him off. 

“sorry? that’s all you have to say?” you snapped, voice trembling. “you promised miles! you promised you’d be there and wouldn’t miss it for the world! do you know how embarrassing it was to keep looking around for you? even my parents asked for you!”

he looks at you with a pained expression. “i know, and i can’t tell you how sorry i am… but something important came up. you need to understand.”

“i need to understand something more important than my graduation? huh?” you shot back. “what could possibly be so important that you couldn’t even send a text?”

a pause or two went by. his silence was deafening. tears of frustration and sadness well up in your eyes. “you always do this miles. you just disappear without a trace and i’m left here wondering what’s going on. do you even care about me? about us? or whatever is left of this one sided relationship?”

the words were harsh as they left your mouth. any other day, you would’ve regretted your words but you were so hurt today that you didn’t care. 

miles was left stuttering and choking a response up. “i… i do care,”

“i care more than you know, but things are so hard right now and you know i hate keeping things from you.”

confusion was written all over your face. “miles, what are you talking about?”

“this is going to change everything, but know that none of this was to hurt you.” he said as he slowly took the big jacket he had off, revealing his suit beneath. 

seeing the spider emblem in the middle made your eyes widen in shock. 

“i’m spider-man,” he softly said. “that’s why i wasn’t there tonight or the other times i cancelled… just know that i wanted to be there for you so bad, but i have a responsibility to the city too.” 

hearing those words made the world tilt as you tried to process his words. spiderman. miles is spiderman. your miles is spiderman. and slowly all the pieces start to fit together. the disappearances, the excuses, the exhaustion in his eyes.

“miles… you’re spiderman?” you repeated back, still trying to wrap your head around it. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“i wanted to,” he said, stepping closer. “but i was so scared. scared of putting you in danger, scared of what you’d think of me. but i’m so sorry, my love. i never wanted to hurt you.”

tears fell out of your eyes, anger subsiding with understanding but still hurt. “i just wish you told me sooner. i thought you didn’t care.” 

more tears started falling and he took the final step to pull you into a tight embrace. you both clinged onto each other, feeling the weight of everything at once. “i care about you more than anything,” he whispered. “and i promise, from now on, no more secrets. i want to figure this out together.”

as you both held each other, a sense of relief washed over you two. it wouldn’t be easy overcoming everything and he still broke his promise, but at least you knew the truth now. you could now face everything together.

he took a step, leading you both to the bed and wrapping yourselves under the covers. miles threw an arm around you and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a soothing rhythm assuring you that he was there. 

“you know,” you tilted your head up, “you still have to make it up to me. i don’t just graduate everyday.” 

he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “i know. i’ll try my hardest for you.” your eyes caught each other before he ran a thumb against your cheek. “i’m so sorry, but know that i am so proud of you.” he said, voice filled with sincerity. 

you shifted closer to his face, giving him the softest kiss. his fingers gently traced patterns on your back, lulling you into a state of peace. the weight of the night’s emotions melted away, bringing tiredness to the couple. 

“thank you for telling me, miles.” you murmured, eyes growing heavy. 

“no, thank you for understanding.” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

as sleep began to claim you, you felt a sense of contentment. despite the events and surprises, you were happy that you had miles by your side. with him, you could face anything. 

as he held you close, you drifted off, feeling safe and loved.

(PLEASE LMK IF THERE'S ANY MISTAKES)

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve’s eyes popped open and groaned at the light streaming through the window. His head was killing him. He shouldn't have had all that tequila. He suddenly realized that there wasn't anything between him in the sheets, and there were two arms across his chest. He looked over on his left to find a naked Eddie Munson lying next to him. The sheet had fallen off of him, and he had a clear view of his ass. The other arm was coming from his right side. He followed it to find Chrissy sleeping on her side, facing him. The sheet had fallen to her waist, and he could see her breasts very clearly.

"Fuck," Steve muttered.

Memories were starting to come back from last night. It was supposed to be him, Robin, Eddie, and Chrissy, but Robin had to cancel because she was sick. Although, he couldn't remember who's idea idea it was to do tequila shots, but suddenly, they were no longer watching the movie. He remembered their hands in his hair, massaging his scalp, and then the next thing he knew, they were licking salt off his neck. There was kissing. . .Eddie had kissed him first, and then it had been Chrissy.

"I like Nancy, she's pretty. . .pretty great," he remembered Chrissy slurring her words. "But we're going to make you forget all about her."

Steve remembered begging them to tear off his clothes, begging them to do so many things: biting, kissing. . .he even begged them to spank him. He definitely remembered the fucking, too. He tried to sit up without waking them up, but as soon as he moved, it alerted Eddie and Chrissy. Eddie sat up suddenly, gathering all the sheets to cover himself. He yelped when he inadvertently ripped the sheets off of Steve and Chrissy. He looked up at the ceiling.

"Did we - ?" Eddie asked.

"Fuck?" Steve asked, smirking. "Yes, we did."

"JESUS H CHRIST!" Eddie yelled.

"Eddie, baby, volume," Chrissy said with a groan. "Why are you freaking out? We've had sex before."

"Not with Steve!" Eddie shrieked.

"Edward," Chrissy said, rubbing her temples.

"Sorry," Eddie said. "Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"Well, I thought most people secretly kind of thought other people of the same sex were attractive," Steve said. "I don't think that means we're gay."

"I always thought that!" Chrissy exclaimed happily.

"WELL, WE'RE NOT STRAIGHT, STEVEN," Eddie said and groaned, burried his face into the pillow. "Ugh, I think I pissed off my own hangover. Seriously, Chrissy. . .this doesn't surprise you?"

His head was stuffed into the pillow, so his voice had been muffled. It was amusing to see his bare ass sticking high up in the air like that.

"Well, you practically drool over Steve like he's a well-done steak and then, of course, there was that time that you called out his name when we were in bed together," Chrissy said. "You're not as mysterious as you think you are, babe."

"I never noticed anything," Steve frowned.

"Well, we weren't on the map for you at the time. You were trying to get over Nancy," Chrissy said.

"Fuck Nancy," Steve grinned and then frowned. "I mean not fuck her, you know, or fuck her. . .because she's my friend now, too, so. . .ah, you know what I mean."

Chrissy and Eddie giggled. They fell into a comfortable silence as Eddie inched down onto the bed like a worm.

"You okay, baby?" Chrissy asked Eddie.

"Do you need a minute, man? I get it if you do," Steve said.

"Yeah, I think I need a minute," Eddie groaned.

"Okay, well, I think I need coffee, and I'll whip us up something simple," Steve said and kissed his forehead.

He slipped out of bed, watching as Chrissy slid over to Eddie, whispering his ear and kissing his forehead as well. Chrissy rolled out of bed and slipped on one of Steve’s sweaters.

"I'll come help," Chrissy said.

Steve smiled. His blue sweater really brought out the color of her eyes, and it contrasted nicely with her strawberry blonde hair. She was beautiful. . .they both were. Chrissy took his hand and led him out of the room, giving Eddie a moment to himself to process all of it. Even with the hangover pounding away at his skull, Steve couldn't stop smiling as Chrissy helped him cook.

"So, you always thought about men and women, too?" Steve asked Chrissy.

"Yeah, I thought that was normal for everyone," Chrissy said.

"Well, I think that it's normal for people like us," Steve said. "You did say Nancy was pretty last night."

"Okay, so maybe I had a crush on her when she was on the squad," Chrissy said. "And then again briefly after everything that happened. So, I totally get why you had to get over her twice."

"Nancy Wheeler is definitely hard to get over," Steve said with a smile.

"Tell me about it," Chrissy grinned. "You weren't exactly easy to get over when I had a crush on you, too. I don't think I ever did."

"You had a crush on me?" Steve asked.

"Still do," Chrissy grinned.

"Well. . .I'm glad you never got over me," Steve said, and he smiled at her, bumping her hip with his.

Breakfast and coffee had just gotten done when Eddie stumbled into the kitchen. He was wearing Steve’s yellow sweater and nothing else. His hair was fluffed out around him like a messy dark halo. He wandered over to them. Eddie placed one hand on Steve’s hip and the other hip on Chrissy's, pressing himself up against them. He squeezed them tightly.

"You guys just go ahead and steal all of my clothes then," Steve said teasingly.

"Okay," Chrissy giggled.

"How are you doing, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"I'm very well done," Eddie said and kissed Steve’s cheek, causing Steve to giggle.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Robin's voice startled him out of his thoughts. It was two days later, and he was back at Family Video. Steve blinked, blushed, and continued stacking the video tapes.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"I thought you had been cursed for a moment, but then you started grinning like an idiot," Robin said. "I'm pretty sure you scared that old lady and her granddaughter."

"What old lady and her granddaughter?" Steve asked.

"You just talked to them for like ten minutes!" Robin exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, them," Steve said.

"Okay, did you meet someone?" Robin asked.

"No. . .," he trailed off.

"But you hooked up," Robin said.

Steve wasn't sure why he didn't just tell her right away. Eddie and Chrissy were more than happy for him to tell Robin. Especially since she knew about him. Steve has brought it up several times that he likes men and women with Robin.

"It wasn't intentional. . .we had a little bit too much tequila, and then one thing led to another. . .it was a happy accident," Steve grinned.

"I thought you weren't interested in meaningless sex anymore," she said.

"It definitely wasn't meaningless," Steve said. "It meant something to all three of us."

"Ugh, you had a threesome?" Robin asked. "What girls did you have a "meaningful" sexscapade with?"

"That's a little judgemental even for you," Steve said, raising an eyebrow at her. "And why would you assume that it's two girls?"

Steve paused and glanced around. Yeah, the place was still empty. He glanced back at Robin, who was looking at him in confusion.

"Are you telling me that Steve Harrington, notorious ladies man, had sex with a woman AND a man?" Robin asked in disbelief.

"I don't know why you're surprised by this," Steve said. "You've known this about me."

"The hell I did!" Robin shrieked.

"I told you about the times I fooled around with some of my friends!" Steve exclaimed.

"I assumed they were girls!" Robin exclaimed.

"Yeah, okay, that might be on me. I don't think I used any pronouns," he frowned. "Okay, what about the time I went on a rant about how cute I think Tom Cruise is?"

"I thought that you were just exaggerating about how much you loved Tom Cruise and that it was one of those scenarios where if you were into men, it would be him. And you actually said that," Robin said.

"Okay, that might be on me again," Steve said. "Okay, but what about that time that I made out with that guy at that bar?"

"That was a guy?!" Robin shrieked.

"Okay, from behind, I can see why you would think he was a girl," Steve said, and then he frowned. "Wait a minute, I told you his name was James."

"I thought you said Jamie," Robin said. "Okay, that one might be on me."

"Robin, okay, I literally told you that I would have sex with anyone," Steve said.

"You did not specify that it meant men!" Robin exclaimed.

"Robin!" Steve exclaimed and slammed a tape down. "We ran into a newly reformed gay Tommy in the grocery store a while back, and we both literally told you that we used to roll around in the hay!"

"I didn't know that was a euphemism!" She shrieked.

"I told you that Vickie might be like me!" Steve told her.

"I thought you were talking about the fact that you and Vickie like Fast Times," Robin said and paused. "Okay, yeah, that one might be on me, too. Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we both dinguses?"

"Yeah, I think so," Steve said.

"Okay. . .suddenly, everything is making fucking sense," Robin said and shook her head. "So, these people that you meaningfully slept with. . .do you think it might become serious?"

"Yeah," Steve said, biting his lip. "I think so. They figured I would tell you, so they're okay with this. It's Eddie and Chrissy."

"Well, it's a good thing that I canceled," Robin said and paused. "You three really make so much sense. You spend so much time with them already."

"So. . .still feeling down since Vickie moved away?" Steve asked.

"No, actually, things are looking up," Robin said, blushing. "I mean, I'll always miss her. She was my first girlfriend, but I got that she wanted to be with her dad, especially after his mother died. We're friends now, though, or getting there, anyway."

"Is there someone else?" Steve asked.

Robin sighed with relief as the bell above the door rang. Eddie and Chrissy bounced into the store.

"Slow day?" Eddie asked.

"It's looking up," Steve smiled.

"Judging by the way that Robin is looking at us, she knows," Eddie said, looking amused.

"Oh, yeah, and now she knows for sure that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"I thought she knew," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, I thought she knew, too," Steve said.

"I'm. . . I'm a dingus," Robin said. "I'm happy for you, guys."

"Thanks," Eddie said, laughing.

"We really missed you," Chrissy said and kissed Steve.

Eddie gave a look around the store before giving Steve a quick kiss as well.

"It's been two days," Steve blushed.

"The heart wants what it wants," Eddie grinned.

Robin smiled and moved to stand behind the counter.

"You up for a break yet?" Chrissy asked, biting her lip as she slipped a hand into his back pocket.

"Not yet," Steve said. "Soon, though."

"Damn, we came prepared to have our way with you," Eddie said and cupped Chrissy's face, squeezing her cheeks. "How can you say no to this face?"

"It's the rules," Steve said as Eddie put his hand in Steve's other back pocket.

"Fuck the rules," Eddie whispered in his ear.

"Look, just because I know about this and is more than okay with it doesn't mean that I want to want to watch you two fuck my best friend in the place where we work."

"Boo," Chrissy laughed.

"Come on, Chrissy, let's look for a movie, and Steve can admire us from afar," Eddie said.

Steve smiled as he watched them walk away. He felt very giddy. He bit his lip as he finished up stacking the video tapes.

"I don't know how you're getting any work done today," Robin said.

"Tell me about it," Steve said as he moved back to the counter with Robin, his eyes following his partners' movements.

"Oh, you're done for already. Smitten like a kitten," Robin said. "I like seeing this on you."

"Me too," Steve said.

"You know, I never thought you'd ever move on from Nancy," Robin said.

"I think a little part of me will always be there, but I'm glad we got to be together one last time. I feel like we both got the closure we needed," Steve said.

"Really?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said.

"I wasn't sick!" Robin blurted out.

"What?" Steve asked.

"When I was supposed to hang out with you three. . .I was really hanging out with Nancy," Robin said.

"Nancy?" He asked.

"Yeah," Robin said, looking at him nervously. "Nothing happened! I doubt it will because I don't she'll ever feel the same way about me. . .but I wanted to see if you would be okay with it if something ever did happen."

"Robin, you don't need my permission," Steve said, looking worried.

"Of course, I don't need your permission. This isn't about that. It's about loyalty. If I can't take your feelings into account over something as important as this and treat them as something that matters, then how can I possibly do the same thing with a romantic partner? Their feelings need to be just as important as yours because you mean the world to me, Steve Harrington," Robin said. "And I don't want to be with anyone who doesn't understand that. Vickie understood it, and now, I think Nancy does, too."

"I love you, Robin, and there's always going to be this part of me that will love Nancy, but I think you two would be great together," Steve said. "It kind of makes sense that we would end up falling for the same girl."

"It really does," Robin sniffled. "I'm madly, platonically in love with you, dingus."

"I'm madly, platonically in love with you, too. . .dingus," Steve said, and she laughed.

"And you know, if things do fall apart. . . Then we'll always have each other, right?" Robin asked.

"Right. . .I don't think you're going to get any work done today," Steve smirked.

The bell above the door rang, and Nancy came in. She beamed at Robin, who smiled bashfully. Steve grinned. Look at them. . .getting a happy ending. It was one that neither one had expected, but it was definitely the happiest of accidents. Thank god for Tequila.

[weemssapphic]

Could I request a fluff fic for Miranda :0?

Maybe the weathers getting colder, cuffing szn etc Miranda falls for one of her neighbors who keeps bringing her baked goods, she’s unaware that said neighbor likes her!!! (unaware queen). Literally anything cute and sweet to get me thru the treacherous winter of Northern Europe HAHA

A/N: Hello! Sooooo a. this became a bit more of a Christmas fic than a winter fic, I hope that's okay, and b. I also failed to finish it before Christmas as I had originally planned 🥴 buuut I do hope you enjoy anyway! HUGE shoutout to @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze and @agathaandgwenslesbian for beta'ing and hyping me up to post this, I love you both 🥺💖

Merry Christmas, Baby

Words: ~6.3k | ao3 link in title Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, cigarettes/smoking

You’ve been living in your new apartment for about three months now, after leaving home and moving all the way to Australia for work. You like to think you’ve settled in well: you’re starting to get into a routine, you’ve managed to decorate most of your apartment and make it feel like home, Sydney isn’t as daunting as it was in the beginning - you were even able to give a tourist directions the other day.

The only thing missing is, well, friends. You get along well enough with your coworkers, they’ve been welcoming and have even started to invite you out. But more weekends than not you find yourself exploring the city on your own or hanging out on your couch with takeout, watching Netflix and thinking about your friends back home. You try to FaceTime them as often as you can, but the time difference makes it hard, and sometimes it makes you sad to ‘see’ them and know you can’t just meet up like you used to.

To stave off some of the loneliness you’ve been feeling, you’ve spent the past few weeks attempting to meet more people - and one person in particular has caught your eye: your neighbor, Miranda. You met her in the hallway during your first week in the building - she’d come up the stairs as you were fumbling with your keys, struggling a bit as your arms were full of groceries. She’d immediately offered to help, her eyes wide and her smile bright as she’d rushed over to you and grabbed the grocery bags right out of your hands. The way she looked down at you, watching your every move with great interest as you unlocked your door, brought a flush to your cheeks that only got worse during the subsequent small talk. 

Your interactions since then have been a bit sparse - you keep hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of her in the hallway, but you rarely do. Sometimes you’ll hear her apartment door fall shut late at night as you’re falling asleep, or you’ll hear her footsteps on the stairs early in the morning while you’re still getting ready - wherever she works, she seems to have irregular shifts.

~~~

It’s a Sunday evening and you’re spending it alone (again). When your friend back home had canceled your scheduled FaceTime call at the last minute, you’d decided to distract yourself by baking. As you put together the ingredients for blueberry muffins, you find your mind wandering to your tall, blonde neighbor - wondering what it is she does for work, where she’s from (you thought you caught a British accent but you weren’t sure anymore), whether or not she’s seeing anyone…

The sound of the timer pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn off the oven and pull the muffin tray out, setting it on the counter. Your heart sinks when you realize there’s no way you’re going to finish them all by yourself. You suppose you could bring some to work… You bite your lip, your brow furrowing as you stare down the baked goods. Perhaps you could bring Miranda some? Butterflies erupt in your tummy when you picture her opening her front door, her lips stretching into a smile that reaches her bright blue eyes. Perhaps she would invite you in, perhaps the two of you would spend the evening on her couch, getting closer by the hour as you get to know one another. Perhaps…

You shake your head, trying not to get ahead of yourself. You’ll just stop by with a few muffins and see what happens. Maybe she’ll be busy. Or she won’t even be home and you’ll be forced to leave them next to her door. 

After preparing a small basket of baked goods and changing from your rattiest sweatpants into a pair of jeans, you slip out of your apartment and cross the hall. Your heart begins to pound, your hands turning clammy as you bring your fist up to Miranda’s door. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a deep breath, you knock.

At first, you’re met with silence - your heart sinks a bit, and you try to ignore the little pang of disappointment that begins to creep up on you. But just as you’re about to turn around, you hear a shuffling behind the door. It opens just a crack - you hear an “Oh!” - and then it swings open fully, revealing Miranda in a navy bathrobe. Her hair is wet, slicked back - one strand falls over her eyebrow and she pushes it back, a smile growing on her lips as she looks down at you.

“Hello,” she says, sounding a little breathless. You feel yourself flush as you realize you must have caught her just out of the shower - perhaps it took her so long to answer the door because she wasn’t dressed yet, and the thought makes you slightly dizzy.

“Hi.” You can’t help but gawk a bit, and the thought of just dropping the muffins at her feet and leaving before you can make a fool of yourself briefly crosses your mind.

Her brows furrow slightly and so do yours, before you realize that you should probably say something else.

“I just wanted to…” You gesture vaguely at the basket you’re holding. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later,” you manage to stutter out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your eyes on her face.

“Oh, you’re alright,” Miranda says, craning her neck a bit to catch a glimpse at what you’re holding. “Are those muffins?”

“Yeah. For you.” You thrust your arms out, holding the basket towards her. Her eyes widen, darting between you and the basket as she takes it from you.

Her entire face seems to light up with excitement - she looks positively giddy. “Did you make these?”

“Yes! Yeah. I like baking. And I made too many. So I thought I would see if you want some.”

The smile that’s broken out across Miranda’s face is one you wish you could save and put in your pocket to look at on your worst days. It lights up her entire face, making her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle - it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You’re so distracted by it that you nearly miss her next words.

“Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea.”

“Sure.”

You blush as Miranda steps aside, allowing you to step over the threshold of her apartment. She shuts the door behind you then walks past you into her kitchen. Even the way she walks is attractive to you - the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the way she pushes her shoulders back and swings her arms, her long strides. Taking a deep breath, you follow her and lean against the door frame, watching as she sets down the muffins on the counter and puts on the electric kettle. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be home,” you say, breaking the silence. You’re a bit embarrassed that your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear your throat. “I don’t see you around much. Do you do shift work?”

Miranda glances back at you as she rummages through the cupboards for two mugs. She smiles softly. “Sort of. I’ve been on call a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to the side. “What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, a police constable.”

Your eyes widen as you process the information. It makes sense, you realize - and then you feel your mouth go dry as you picture Miranda in a police uniform.

“What do you do?”

Her question breaks you out of your trance, and you can feel your cheeks turn red. “Oh, um, that’s… I work in accounting.” You swallow back your embarrassment at having a “boring” desk job, your eyes darting around Miranda’s kitchen - anything to avoid meeting her gaze. 

“Steady work then,” she says - you can hear the smile in her voice and you dare to steal a glance at her face. Her expression is soft, completely at ease, and you can’t help but feel your shoulders relax a little. “How come you moved to Sydney? Did you move here for a guy?”

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes your lips and you quickly look away again. “Nope.” You want to say that you’re more into women, but you get nervous and something stops you. “I just needed a change of scenery. I figured moving to an English-speaking country would be easiest, and I thought the weather here would be nicer than in the UK.”

Miranda laughs a full-belly laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m from the UK, you know.”

“Tell me I’m wrong then,” you tease with a grin.

Her eyes flicker briefly over your form, an amused grin on her face. “You’re… you’re not wrong.” She ducks her head in surrender - then the kettle goes off and she turns to busy herself with preparing the tea. 

“So why did you move to Sydney then?”

“My boyfriend at the time was Australian.” Miranda hands you one of the mugs, then leans back against the counter, taking a sip of her own tea and observing you carefully. You try not to let on to the way that your stomach sinks when you hear the word “boyfriend” - it doesn’t mean she’s straight, you remind yourself (and besides, even if she did like women - it doesn’t mean she’d like you). You nod and hum in acknowledgment, hoping to come off as casual and unaffected as you sip your tea.

Miranda sets down her mug and reaches over the small kitchen table to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Once again you find yourself mesmerized as long, slender fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack, placing it between her pale lips as she lights it. 

For a moment, she seems unaware of your presence - she takes a deep drag from the cigarette, her fingers playing with the lighter as she exhales a cloud of smoke. Then her eyes fall to your face and widen slightly. “Oh, God, sorry. Do you mind?” 

You shake your head - it’s not your apartment so it’s not like you have a say anyway, and, if you’re honest, you find it a bit hot. “Go ahead, it’s your apartment.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and takes another drag from the cigarette. “You want one?”

You nod and she tosses you the pack. Once you’ve plucked a cigarette from it, she steps towards you. “Here, let me,” she says, moving to light it for you as her own cigarette dangles from between her lips. She gets closer than would probably be necessary and her proximity makes you feel a little faint - you can smell the shampoo in her still-damp hair, and the smoke on her breath. Your eyes are trained on the lighter - when the flame goes out, you glance up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re even lighter than you initially thought and her gaze is intense - it’s slightly overwhelming.

“Thanks,” you whisper hoarsely, forcing yourself to blink and take a step back. Miranda’s eyes are fixed curiously on your face as she plucks her cigarette from between her lips. She tilts her head, her lips parting into a smile.

“What?” There’s a playful edge to her voice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You freeze, your cheeks turning pink. “Like what?”

“You find me intimidating, don’t you?” You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off, gesturing down the length of her body. “It’s my height, isn’t it? I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- I mean…” You shrug lamely, taking a sip of your tea to give yourself a moment to think. “It’s not you, I’ve just had a long day. A long few months, actually.” Okay, so you’re deflecting - but it feels way too nice just to bask in Miranda’s presence, and you don’t want it to end so soon by making things awkward.

Miranda’s face softens in an instant, little creases appearing between her brows. “From the move? It can be so hard to uproot your life like that.”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard before - people trying to sympathize with you, looking for something meaningful to say. But with Miranda, it feels different. With the way she’s looking at you, it feels like she truly understands. 

~~~

In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into the habit of bringing Miranda baked goods - always on the pretext of having made extras for work and other neighbors (though you never have any intention of giving them to anyone except Miranda). It’s more than worth the hours spent in the kitchen to see the smile that lights up her face when she answers the door. Sometimes she invites you in for tea and a cigarette, sometimes there’s only time for a bit of small talk before one of you needs to get going - but each time, butterflies erupt in your belly and you find yourself wishing you were brave enough to make a move. 

What you don’t know is that Miranda finds herself wishing the same thing. Sure, she loves everything you make her (nothing you’ve ever baked her has lasted more than 2 days at most), but the real reason her face breaks into a splitting grin when she answers the door is because it’s you who’s standing there.

Miranda can’t get enough of you - you’re easy to talk to, you make her laugh, you seem to take her as she is. And you’re damn beautiful. The most exciting part of her week is wondering on which evening you’ll come by unannounced after work, and she finds herself praying she’ll have the time to talk to you.

One such evening, you’ve come over with a tray of red velvet cupcakes - decorated with festive little Christmas tree sprinkles. Miranda’s just gotten off a shift and has the evening off, and she’s never been more grateful as she leads you into her kitchen and turns on the kettle. You make yourself right at home, settling on a kitchen chair and tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table - it’s almost become a routine now, and you look like you belong there. Miranda likes that thought more than she’d care to admit.

Still, despite how often you’ve come by lately, she feels there’s still some sort of barrier between the two of you. Your conversations are the best part of her week, yet they tend to feel a bit… shallow. She’s desperate to get to know you better but she’s holding herself back - the fear of driving you away, of being too much for you to handle, causes her to freeze up. You’re just being nice, trying to make new friends in Australia, and here she is, falling for you one red velvet cupcake at a time.

“Mir?” Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. She tries desperately to remember what you were talking to her about, but she realizes quickly that her efforts are futile - she was too busy admiring the lock of hair falling across your cheek, the way you ran your fingers through your hair to push it back. 

“Sorry.” She offers you a sheepish smile, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet.

You smile back, and her heart skips a beat. “I asked if you’re staying in Sydney for Christmas or if you’re going back to London?”

“I’m staying here. I work on Christmas, so…” She frowns slightly - she hasn’t gone home for Christmas in a few years. Usually, she works and spends her off-hours curled up in bed watching Christmassy rom-coms by herself. She’s gotten used to it. “Are you? Going home for Christmas?”

“Nah. I blew all my savings in the move, can’t afford the plane ticket.” Something about the way you shrug your shoulders, your gaze dropping to the floor, tells Miranda that your nonchalance is a front.

“Would you like to come over?” Miranda, what are you saying? “We could cook something and watch a movie together.” Miranda, shut up! “Maybe you could sleep over and we could keep each other company.” Oh, great, now you’ve done it! Miranda’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s saying, but she can’t take it back now - and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to take it back. Her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as she waits for you to reply. It only takes you seconds, really, but those few seconds might as well be hours as time slows and Miranda begins to find it hard to breathe.

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to take me in! I’ll be okay, I wouldn’t want to impose.” Your words come out in a rush and your cheeks are turning pink - Miranda’s heart starts to sink and she scrambles to find the right words to save the conversation.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, I’d have just had a few beers by myself after work anyway.” She chuckles nervously, before adding, “I could use the company.”

She quickly looks away from you, finding the brief moment of vulnerability too much to handle - she couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes at the moment, certainly one of pity or judgment. 

“Oh… Well in that case, I’d love to spend Christmas with you. If that’s okay.”

Miranda’s eyes widen and she glances over at you to see you smiling shyly - her heart stutters in her chest and she feels her stomach flip pleasantly. She lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop the wide smile that’s creeping up her face. “Okay then.”

~~~

Ever since that evening in Miranda’s apartment, you’ve been buzzing with excitement. She’d ended up giving you her number so that you could plan when to come over, and it’s taken all of your restraint not to bug her every waking second - you wouldn’t want her getting sick of you and regretting inviting you over. 

But as Christmas is just a few days away, you decide to shoot her a text as you’re lying in bed at night.

Y/N: Hey there, it’s Y/N! I just wanted to ask what time you wanted me to come over on Christmas? :) 

You toss your phone aside, not expecting Miranda to text back anytime soon - it’s already late, after all. When your screen lights up moments later, however, your heart begins to pound.

Miranda: Hey! Miranda: I work until 4 Miranda: So evening I would say

Y/N: How does 6 sound? Is that too early?

Miranda: That sounds perfect :) 

Y/N: Great! Should I bring anything?

Miranda: Just yourself ;) Miranda: Wait Miranda: Actually Miranda: Do you remember the cookies you brought me last week?

Y/N: What, am I not enough for you? ;)  Y/N: (I’ll make some more)

Miranda: Are you sure?

Y/N: Absolutely!! Anything for my favorite neighbor.

Miranda: You’re too good to me

By the time you’re done texting her, you’re grinning down at your phone like an idiot. The screen goes black and you catch sight of your reflection - you blush and bury your head in your pillow. For the first time since you moved, you’re actually starting to get excited for Christmas.

~~~

Three days later you’re wrapping up a pair of Christmas pajamas (red, covered in little white snowflakes - you have a matching pair) to give to Miranda - you want to give her something for Christmas, but you don’t know her all that well yet to get her something personal. Still, you think (or at least, you hope) she’ll find the pajamas silly and fun.

Armed with the gift, a huge tupperware box full of candy cane cookies, your keys, and your phone, you pad across the hall and knock gently on Miranda’s door. You hear her muffled voice yell “coming”, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, before the door swings open. Miranda’s eyes flick briefly down your body, over the wrapped gift and the cookies, before she finally meets your gaze. She’s slightly out of breath, and her lips curl up into a smile that meets her eyes. What you would give to kiss those lips… 

“Merry Christmas,” you say, smiling back and forcing your eyes to remain trained on her own.

“Right! Merry Christmas!” You could swear you see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink, but before you have time to question it she’s ushering you into her apartment, her hand coming to rest on your lower back as she steers you towards the kitchen. “I did some food shopping the other day. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, I’m not usually big on holiday foods and I didn’t have time to prepare anything because of work.”

Miranda’s rambling has you swooning - you can tell she’s nervous, though you aren’t sure why. If only she knew you’d happily eat frozen pizza or cereal for Christmas dinner, as long as you get to spend it with her. 

“It’s fine, I don’t care much about Christmas dinner, we can eat anything.” You hope that you’re coming off as reassuring, though you can’t really tell as Miranda blushes again and lights up a cigarette.

“Maybe a curry?” she asks, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need help with.”

She seems to relax a bit, heading over to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. “What do you drink? Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

The two of you spend the next 45 minutes side by side in the small kitchen, cooking, drinking, talking - mostly it’s Miranda, telling you about her workday. When she’s done chopping vegetables, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes again - “sorry, nerves,” she says with a faint smile. You still can’t fathom what she’s nervous about but you don’t want to push her, so you shrug it off and turn your attention to the curry that’s simmering in the pan. You dip a spoon into the sauce to try it, humming in delight the second the flavors explode on your tongue.

“This is really good, try it!” Without thinking you bring the spoon to Miranda’s mouth and, without thinking, she closes her lips around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and she lets out a little noise of pleasure that’s dangerously close to a moan. Heat pools in your stomach, your eyes glued to her lips as you slide the spoon out of her mouth - it’s the first time you notice a little scar above her lip, and you swallow thickly.

You quickly avert your gaze as Miranda’s eyes open again, taking a sip of your beer as you check on the rice.

“I was thinking we could just eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Miranda suggests when the curry is done cooking. You agree and help Miranda carry the bowls and a couple bottles of beer into the living room. It’s small, like yours, and a little cluttered. There’s a string of fairy lights above the window and a small Christmas tree sat atop a side table. Miranda’s eyes follow your gaze and she chuckles.

“I actually put that up two days ago, I panicked when I realized I didn’t have any Christmas decorations up at all.”

“You didn’t have to decorate on my account,” you tease, earning yourself a laugh.

“Oh but what kind of Christmas would it be without a tree?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Miranda smiles at you as she settles on the couch, crossing her legs and setting her bowl in her lap. She gestures for you to join her. You tuck your knees underneath you, angling your body towards her. As you eat, you fall into an easy conversation - you find yourself getting even more comfortable in Miranda’s presence, feeling right at home in her apartment. You can tell she’s relaxing as well - she stretches her legs out, her toes (clad in Christmas-themed socks) touching the side of your thigh. 

“I got you something, by the way,” Miranda says suddenly, leaning over to place her almost-empty bowl on the table. You follow suit, a smile lighting up your face.

“I got you something, too - wait here!” Miranda looks somewhat surprised as you jump up and rush into the kitchen, returning with the gift you’d brought. She now has a gift of her own on her lap, and she’s picking at the edge of the wrapping paper as you settle back down beside her, a soft smile on her face.

You exchange gifts and Miranda’s chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watches you tear open the wrapping paper. It’s a cookbook for baking - you can’t help but laugh, and you look up to see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink. 

“Is this meant to be a hint?” you tease, and Miranda chuckles nervously. 

“Sorry, I-”

“I love it,” you cut her off, setting the book down beside you and leaning over to wrap your arms tightly around her torso. She returns the hug - her arms are strong and comforting and you’re immediately enveloped in her scent. It takes everything in you not to kiss her.

After pulling away, you gesture eagerly to the gift that’s in her lap. She has a look of nervous excitement on her face as she begins to unwrap it - her smile widens when she takes the pjs out of the wrapping paper and holds them in front of her.

“I hope they fit, I guessed your size. I have the same ones and you seem like the type of person who would like them.”

Miranda’s eyes widen as she looks over at you, her expression nothing short of giddy. “You have the same ones? Wear them! We can match.”

Her reaction is exactly what you hoped it would be. The prospect of wearing matching Christmas pjs is both adorable and a little intimate, and you’re filled with nervous anticipation as you head across the hall to your apartment to get changed.

When you get back to Miranda’s apartment a few minutes later, the blonde is sitting on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She smiles so widely that her nose crinkles, and she opens her arms to you. Without a second thought, you allow yourself to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Do you like them?” you ask as you pull away.

“I love them!” The smile on her face is genuine, her eyes shining brightly, and you can’t help but blush, your entire body tingling a bit as your eyes drift down her body.

~~~

You’re about an hour into the second movie of the night and you’re already several beers deep (you’ve lost count, to be honest). You’ve scooted closer and closer to Miranda as the evening has worn on, and now you’re practically on top of her - your legs are bent at the knee, tucked against your body and resting on the outside of her thigh, your shoulder is all but glued to her own. 

You drain the rest of your beer, then pout at the bottle. “It’s empty,” you say, more to yourself than to Miranda, who chuckles and shifts beside you.

“I can get you another one?”

“It’s fine,” you say with a giggle. “Maybe I should stop drinking.” You’re not drunk but you’re definitely tipsy - you turn your head to face Miranda a little too quickly and, for a brief moment, the room spins, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles.

Your eyes meet Miranda’s, before dropping to her lips and getting stuck there. They’re curled into an amused smile as she chuckles at your inebriated state - though the smile slowly fades as her brows begin to crease. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and your own laughter quickly dies in your throat, your mouth going dry. You can tell Miranda’s breathing has gone shallow, her eyes falling to your lips. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and Miranda’s gaze darts away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, scrambling to scoot away - before she can get very far, your arm shoots out and holds her in place. 

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper. The only sound you can hear is the pounding of your own heart in your ears as you wait for Miranda to respond. Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a lovely shade of pink rising in her cheeks.

“I-” she starts, cutting herself off as she swallows visibly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You don’t know what prompted you to be so bold (probably the alcohol), but when a soft, barely audible whimper escapes Miranda’s throat, you can’t say you regret asking.

“Yes.”

You definitely don’t regret asking. 

“I want to kiss you, too,” you whisper, leaning in slightly as you fix your gaze on soft-looking, pale pink lips that glisten slightly in the dim light of the living room. Then you stop yourself, hesitating as the room spins again. You’ve dreamed of kissing those same lips for weeks now but something is off. 

The alcohol, you realize - you don’t want your first kiss with Miranda to be clouded by alcohol. You want to appreciate and remember the moment fully, you want to savor every second. So, as much as you’re dying to close the gap and absolutely ravage the lovely, beautiful woman sitting next to you, you decide to pull back. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow. I want to be completely sober for that. And… if you still want to kiss me tomorrow… then I’ll kiss you.”

Miranda nods slowly, looking a bit dazed. “That’s, uh,” she starts, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “That’s a good idea.” She shifts in her seat, crossing one thigh tightly over the other. The air is still thick and heavy, and it takes everything in you not to say ‘fuck it’ and push her back onto the couch - but you mean it, you really do want to be sober for that. So you lean back, putting a few inches of distance between yourself and Miranda for the remainder of the film.

You feel yourself becoming more and more tired, and by the time the credits are rolling, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Pushing yourself up off the couch, you sway slightly as you make it to your feet, and immediately decide to sit back down so that you don’t fall over.

“You sure you can make it back down the hall okay?” Miranda teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches you lean back against the sofa.

You roll your eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “I’m not drunk. I’m just tired.” As if to emphasize your point, you yawn widely as you finish your last sentence - Miranda laughs. 

“You can sleep here if you want,” she offers - then her face goes pale and she rushes to explain herself. “Not with me of course, but the couch is quite comfortable. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch, that’s fine, too-”

She’s talking a mile a minute and it’s the most charming thing you’ve ever heard - especially since you definitely would sleep with her. You’d just prefer to do it sober. Giggling, you decide to show her mercy and cut her off. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, let me get you some blankets.” She turns off the tv and stands, leaving the room for a minute and coming back with a pillow and an armful of blankets. You get up and try to help her to make a makeshift bed for you, but your movements are a bit sluggish and you realize you’re just getting in her way, so you end up perching on the edge of the coffee table until she gives you the go. 

You snuggle into the blankets - they smell like Miranda, and it takes everything in you not to bury your nose in them and moan out loud. Instead, you shoot Miranda a smile and mutter a sleepy ‘thank you’ - she nods, telling you to yell if you need her, then turns to leave.

“Oh, Miranda?” You lift your head off the pillow and crane your neck towards the blonde.

She pauses in the doorway, turning back to face you as she runs a hand through her hair. “Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You beam at her, even as your eyes threaten to close any second. The evening was far from a traditional Christmas celebration, but it was the best Christmas you’ve had in a long time.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, her smile soft and genuine, before turning around and disappearing into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~

You’re out like a light the second Miranda is gone, completely oblivious to the internal struggle she faces as she curls up in her own bed. She tries to close her eyes and force herself to sleep, but she’s not tired at all - her mind is racing and her heart is pounding, her entire body responding to the evening she’s shared with you. The laughter, the sense of familiarity and peace, the tension when you nearly kissed her. And, God, does she want to kiss you. But you’re tipsy, and you probably just said that in the heat of the moment - she gets it, sometimes alcohol makes her flirty and a little horny as well. You probably won’t remember that conversation in the morning - and you probably won’t want to kiss her anymore either. 

She can’t help the way her heart sinks as she comes to that realization, and it keeps her up for the better part of the night. She feels like she’s just managed to nod off when the morning light starts to filter in through the curtains and she groans, burying her face in her pillow. 

Thud. 

Miranda freezes for a moment, her blood going cold as she hears a noise coming from her living room. Then she remembers that you’re sleeping on her couch and her body relaxes again. She’s nervous, wondering if you’ll be awkward about the previous evening’s sexual tension, but her curiosity about whether or not you’re already awake wins out and she pushes herself off the bed, smoothing a hand over her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes before creeping into the hallway, careful to be quiet in case you’re still sleeping.

There’s a clattering coming from the living room though, and she finds you collecting the beer bottles from last night that are still scattered across the coffee table. 

“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Your head whips around towards the doorway and your cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to clean up a bit. Did I wake you?” The way you’re chewing at your bottom lip is adorable and makes Miranda want to kiss you senseless. She chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, I was awake anyway. Here, let me help.” Miranda helps you clear off the coffee table, heading into the kitchen with an armful of bottles and her empty bowl from dinner. You’re right behind her with the rest of the dishes and you immediately make your way to the sink and start washing them - it feels so domestic that it makes Miranda’s heart flutter, and she has to look away and focus on something else so that you can’t see the blush on her cheeks or the yearning that’s surely shining in her eyes. 

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, waiting for your affirmative hum before starting to make some. She’s so focused on preparing the coffee machine that she misses you turning off the sink and padding over to her - she yelps as you press against her back, placing your hands on the counter on either side of her and boxing her in. Her heart is racing, skipping beats left and right as your body heat warms her from behind. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turns around to face you.

“Miranda?” Your voice is low and a little shaky, and your cheeks are flushed - gorgeously so, Miranda finds her mouth going dry.

“Yes?” she croaks out.

“Remember how I said I’d kiss you today if you still wanted to?”

All Miranda can do is nod, her mouth hanging open as all the blood rushes to her face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to ask you if you still wanted to kiss me? Because I’m sober now and I still want to kiss you.” You look just as nervous as Miranda feels - she nods again, afraid her voice will betray how badly she wants you.

“Please, say it,” you plead, your eyes wide and earnest. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. I- I want to kiss you.”

Your lips curl up into a soft smile and your hands move from the counter to Miranda’s waist, your grip firm as if you’re afraid she’ll run away from you. You press yourself up onto your toes until your face is mere inches away from her own. She can feel your breath on her face, warm and shallow. Her eyes are glued to your lips, wondering when you’ll close the gap - then you do, your lips soft and plush as they press gently against hers. 

She allows her eyelids to flutter shut and kisses you back, her own hands reaching out tentatively to cup your cheeks. You smile into the kiss and she takes the opportunity to deepen it - you groan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushes against yours, and she swallows the sound, groaning back in return.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she murmurs, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“As if I haven’t been thinking about that since the moment I first met you,” you tease with a seductive grin, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down for a second kiss, even more passionate than the last. 

x

@alexusonfire @brienneswife @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @lvinhs @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @ilovetlcc @wastdstime @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr

[theocddiaries]

Jonathan: There's nothing wrong with my hearing. Tim: Um, I have a hearing test app on my phone. Martha: Let's do it! Tim: Okay. Everybody under the age of 60 should be able to hear this. [High-pitched beep] Everyone: Yeah, definitely. Jonathan: What? You're lying. You didn't hear anything. Martha: We did. See? You're deaf. Tim: Okay, 70. [Higher-pitched beep] Everyone: Yep. Heard it. Jonathan: Come on! Did she put you up to this? Tim: Here, Grandpa, I'll play you something even louder. [Nothing] Jonathan: Okay. I heard that one. Tim: I didn't press anything. Jason: Oh, look who's a cheater. Jonathan: You know, I don't need any of this. Lois: Oh, come on, Jonathan. Aren't you being a little oversensitive? Clark: Oh, well, we can consult dear Lana over there. She's the self-appointed sensitivity expert. Bruce [sighs] Lana: Oh, let it go. Clark: I will not let it go. In fact, I would like everyone to be honest with me, please, right now. No sugarcoating. Lana here seems to think you all have to walk on eggshells around me. Do you all think I'm so fragile you can't tell me things for fear of how I will react? Lois: Well-- Bruce: Lois, don't. Zip. Bup, bup, bup. Clark: No. Let her talk, please. Lois, you have the floor. Lois: W-Well, you aren't not fragile. Clark: …Okay. Well, why don't you give me an example of something you haven't told me because you were worried I couldn't handle it? Go on. Lois: …All right. Last week when we were supposed to have lunch and you canceled-- Mm-hmm. Beyoncé was at the restaurant. Bruce and Lana: Ah, damn. Clark: …Okay. Uh, the singer or Jim's dog? Lois: The singer. And when I was leaving, I-I stopped and I said hello to her and we chatted for, like, 10 minutes. Clark [Nods]: Okay, that's great. I'm glad you had that experience. I mean, I don't know what you talked to her about, seeing that you don't know any of her songs other than "Single Ladies," which everyone knows. Jonathan: Love that song. Martha: I'm surprised you can hear it. Bruce: Well, this was fun. Who's hungry? Hey, where's that boar? Clark: Okay, anyone else? Damian: Well, since we're coming clean… Bruce: Damian. Damian: …you overuse the word "divine." It's just an ice cream sandwich, Kent. You're the boy who cried "divine." Clark: Okay. Was not aware of that. Duly noted. Jason: Hey, I got one! Remember that blue rotary phone you gave me for Christmas? Clark: Yes. Jason: I tossed it. Clark: Okay. May… May I ask the reason? Jason: It made me feel like Ann-Margret in Bye Bye Birdie. Clark: Okay, anyone else? Dick: I don't really like the shirts with the crazy cuffs. Clark: I'm sorry. I'll take note of the fashion expert who went out to fight crime dressed as Disco Stu. Bruce and Lana: And here we go! Clark: No, no. Here we don't go. This is fine. I'm fine, okay? Everyone: … Conner: When I was little, I used to pretend to be asleep, so you'd go. Clark [Stiffles a sob in a high-pitched tone] Jonathan: That I heard. Clark: Well, I heard you all loud and clear. I have to use the restroom. Bruce: Clark, you're sensitive. Big deal. It's one of your best qualities. Clark: Thank you, Bruce, and I'm sorry your Beyoncé-loving new friend ignored you blatantly and blackmailed Falcone behind your back. Bruce: You what? Lois: … Oh, come on, I was there like… thirty minutes top! [Clark breaks the doorknob. He looks over his shoulder, seeing all attention on him again] Clark [Hesitant, to Lana]: See? Farm strong.

[gunilslaugh]

Photoshoot

Kwak Jiseok Summary: It’s not the first time your friend used you as a model for a photoshoot, but it is your first time modeling with your brother’s best friend Jiseok. (non-idol au) WC:~1.2k Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

“Hello,” you answered your phone. 

“Hey y/n are you busy?” It was Jiseok. 

“I just finished up some work, so not really,” you responded. 

“Great. Y/f/n needs you to come help with a shoot. The couple that were supposed to model canceled last minute,” he tells you. A fake sigh of annoyance fell from your mouth. 

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” you said jokingly. “Send me the address,” you added, standing up to get ready. 

Maybe you should have connected the dots by yourself when Jiseok told you that the couple for the shoot canceled at the last minute, but you didn’t. 

“Perfect you’re here. I need you to quickly get changed into this and then we can start shooting with you and Jiseok,” your friend informs you she pushes you into the changing room. 

“Me and Jiseok?” you asked surprise, taking a step back. 

“Yes, you and Jiseok. Now hurry up.” She shoved you into the room and shut the door behind you. 

You’re feeling oddly nervous as you step out of the changing room.

“You look so pretty,” your friend complimented you.

“Thanks,” you say. 

 “Now let’s go.” She grabbed your arm and led you to the studio. 

When you arrive in the studio you see Jiseok standing there wearing a black button down and white jeans. Perfectly complementing your black jeans and white blouse. 

“Alright, let’s get started.” The director of the shoot clapped. “First, let’s have the two of you face one another.” You and Jiseok followed the directors instructions, turning to face each other. “Now let’s have you place your hands around the back of his neck,” the director instructed. You awkwardly lifted your arms to put around Jiseok’s neck. 

“Why does it look like you don’t want to touch me with a ten foot pole? We’re friends aren’t we?” he chuckled. 

“Of course we’re friends.” You looped your arms around his neck. “But you’re also friends with my brother, so this feels a bit weird,” you say. Jiseok’s hands naturally found themselves looping behind your lower back. Without the director needing to tell him so. 

“Take a step closer. You’re supposed to be lovers, not middle schoolers slow dancing for the first time.” The director's comment makes you and Jiseok laugh as you both take a step closer to one another. “Good, now gaze into each other's eyes.” You look up to lock eyes with Jiseok. The eye contact makes your heart race in your chest. Why were you feeling this way? It was just Jiseok. Your brother’s best friend. The one who used to have a new girl on his arm every week. The flashes of the bright studio lights snap you out of your thoughts. 

“Let’s try resting your foreheads together. Jiseok wrap your arms around her tighter and y/n bring your left hand down onto his chest.” You and Jiseok make the adjustments. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Jiseok, heating up your hand. The intimate gesture of resting your foreheads together is also giving you one heck of a time in not letting your cheeks heat up. 

Meanwhile Jiseok is having an equally hard  time to not blushing at how close you are. He is glad that it’s your left hand resting on his chest and not your right. Because if it was your right then it would have been resting right over his heart and you would have definitely felt how fast it was beating for you. Unlike you Jiseok was well aware of his feelings for you going into this shoot. They’re why he jumped at the chance to call you to come fill in. 

Though, as happy as he is to have you this close to him and being able to hold you in the way he dreamed of. It also made him yearn for you more because this shoot wasn’t real. You weren’t a real couple.

Truth be told when Jiseok first discovered his feelings for you. He thought that they were some type of fluke. He was what some people would call a player. His relationships never lasted long. He liked to flirt around. That was until he found that his heart started to beat for you in a new way. He remembers the day vividly. He came over to your place, to hang out with your brother, but discovered you napping on the couch. The blanket you were cuddled up with was half thrown off of you, so naturally he went to cover you back up. Not thinking much of it. That was until you turned over in your sleep. Your hand somehow landed on his and it just felt different. It made his heart skip a beat. He looked at your sleeping face, messy hair covering parts of your face. A smile danced across his face. Then it fell into a panic. Because why was he suddenly feeling these things towards his friend’s little sister. He literally stumbled backwards, pulling his hands out from under yours. 

“I must be lonely. I just need to find someone new.” he convinced himself.

Long story short he couldn’t find himself someone new. He wasn’t interested. Girls would flirt with him, but he wouldn’t flirt back. He wasn’t interested in them or their flirting. That’s when he realized that his feelings for you were quite serious. You were the only one he wanted. 

“Great, let's have you back hug her.” You feel butterflies dance in your stomach as Jiseok’s arm’s slide around your middle. Seriously, why were you feeling this way? It was like you had a crush on Jiseok. “Lean against him, like rest your head on-yes just like that.” The director smiled. But there is no way that you like Jiseok. You never thought about him like that. Yes, he flirted with you sometimes, but that’s just how Jiseok was. It was never serious flirting. In fact you were praised for not being affected by his flirting. 

“Why are you flirting with my sister?” your brother gumbled. He had just walked in on the sight of you and Jiseok talking. You were leaning against the wall and Jiseok was leaning against the wall with his arm, half way caging you. 

“Chill, we’re just talking plus look.” Jiseok leaned his face dangerously close to you. Resulting in you giving him a very unimpressed look and pushing him away by pressing your fingers against his forehead. “See, she's totally unaffected. She’s immune to my flirting,” Jiseok stated. 

“Yeah we all know y/n would be the last person to take an interest in Jiseok,” Jungsu, your brother’s other friend chimed in. 

It seemed like that would no longer be a true statement. You and Jiseok both turned your heads, accidentally locking eyes. The way your breath hitched and heart hammered in your chest without a doubt confirmed that that statement was no longer true. You definitely had an interest in Jiseok. 

“Wait! That’s perfect! Don’t move, stay just like that,” the director ordered. So there you and Jiseok stay looking at one another. The flash of the studio lights and camera perfectly captures your moment of realization. You like Jiseok.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin

comment or message me to be added!

[denwritesandcries]

Like a Movie Scene – V.P

Pairing: van palmer x fem!reader

Summary: Van Palmer should come with a warning sign. She invades your life with her crooked smiles and stupid jokes and draws you into her orbit without even asking for permission, as if it were something destined to happen. Which, you assume, it probably is.

Word count: 7,1k.

Content: No crash!AU, cursing, mentions of homophobia (it’s the 90’s), friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, a little angst, shitty families, LOTS of movie references, the yjs being normal teenagers.

Note: Van is a flirty little shit but also a complete loser and we love her for that.

English is not my first language.

Van Palmer should come with a warning sign or at least a 'no returns' marked on the tag of her football jerseys.

You don't think it would have done any good, though. Van draws you into her orbit from the first moment you met, like a bright and warm sun; allowing you to exist steadily in her life even though, technically, she has invaded yours.

You suppose then, that you wouldn't have it any other way.

It's likely you guys would never have really spoken to each other if it weren't for a mix-up between your practice schedules and a stupid argument between your coaches.

You see, the track team – which you were part of – always had practice right after the football team, because Wiskayok High School barely had the structure to keep both a girls and boys football team running properly, let alone a decent space for the few other sports the small-town school offered. Your practices took place on the same days of the week and one after the other, always at the same time. It was the implicit rule: from 4:30 pm the field is yours.

Coach Martínez didn't seem to care, however, because there he was arguing with your coach. Since apparently football practice had run late and the girls just needed to train for an hour and a half.

Your coach wasn't having any of it – your time was already too short without these changes –, and now both men were in the middle of the field screaming in each other's faces while poor coach Scott tried to calm them down.

“Dude.” you recognize Natalie Scatorccio’s tired and rasp voice beside you: “They could just cancel and let us go.”

You and apparently most people there, if the expressions of annoyance and crossed arms were any indication, couldn't agree more.

"Right?" You said. “Look at them, you think they’re gonna fight?”

Nat let out an amused snort, “They’re going to eat Coach Ben alive, that’s what they’re gonna do.”

You would have said something else if it weren't for a third voice coming from right behind you:

“They're gonna kiss, look how close their faces are.” It was Van Palmer, the goalie, with red hair swinging in a ponytail and a smirk on her lips. She shook her head in mock disappointment and crossed her arms, pointing with her chin at the scene, “In front of us, kids? What a lack of professionalism.”

You choke on a laugh and her gaze snaps to you, her smile widening with something like satisfaction in her eyes. The attention made you nervous. You weren't used to interacting with Yellowjackets members other than Nat, who was easy to talk to and was your lab partner as well as sharing cigarettes at parties, meaning that talking to Van Palmer was a completely new territory.

You joke back insecurely: “At least you have real coaches. Ours is the art teacher.”

That made her let out an incredulous laugh and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel pleased about it. Like almost the entire school, you also had a crush on the Yellowjackets.

Your laughter died down just as Coach Scott ran across the field to the two mixed teams with the most genuine expression of exhaustion you've ever seen. “We decided to share the space," he says. And that's all. Your first interaction with Van: a conversation that lasted less than three minutes mocking your teachers. You would never expect it to evolve into anything beyond that.

It's strange trying to do your usual routine of running through the poorly painted banners around the pitch – which looked like it had never seen better days – with a game taking place just a few meters away from you and your teammates. The fear of getting hit in the face by a ball was embarrassing.

Yet, as you wait for the relay, your gaze tracks the girls in action. You don't know the names of most of them, but recognize Taissa and Shauna fighting over the ball at one end of the field, the confrontation seems a little too intense, which makes you a bit nervous and your eyes go straight to the nearest goal, coincidentally, is the one Van is defending.

You notice how beautiful she looks with her expression completely concentrated and hands resting on the knees, waiting to act. Shauna overtakes Taissa and kicks hard the ball towards the goal; Van grabs it as soon as she crosses the white line on the lawn.

A giggle escapes you as Shauna turns around in frustration and the ball bounces back into the field and Van and Tai share a wry smile. The goalie turns her attention away from the game for a moment to look around and you swear she's looking for something – or someone.

Your teacher calls signaling your turn and you leave your thoughts while you line up with some other teammates.

You can do your relay routine for exactly fifteen minutes before something goes wrong.

You run on autopilot, so used to it that it's practically a second nature, letting your gaze return to scanning the field with interest when one of the players tries to score again and Van throws herself against the ground to catch the ball with a stronger and clearly exaggerated movement compared to last time. You thought this would be a one-time thing, seeing as the way Jackie and Nat rolled their eyes at her from where they were off to the side blocking other girls, but it kept happening the entire time you spent running until it was time for your break.

You choke on the water you drink when you realize that Van is the one staring at you this time, hands resting on her thighs, face sweaty and red, as if she doesn't have a game to focus on.

Shit, you think. How are you going to keep your head in training now? You wonder what you would have done to get a Yellowjacket's attention so suddenly as you return to your line.

You resume your run at a pretty good pace despite the sudden nervousness, feeling a little more confident when you hear a loud “Come on guys, no one has beaten L/N’s time yet!” coming from your teacher.

And then you're approaching the curve flush with the football field, the curve that gives you the perfect view of the goal.

Van is there, of course, just throwing the ball downfield again. Van, who rests her hands on her hips and catches her breath when Coach Scott blows the whistle and tells that her team won the game. Van, who turns around just in time and sees you approaching. Van, who removes a strand of red hair from her face that has escaped the ponytail and gives you a malicious toothy smile. Van, who winks at you. Van, who makes you fall. Literally.

It's all so out of nowhere, so suddenly that your heart misses a beat and you miss a step, tripping over your own feet as if your legs forgot how to work properly, falling in the middle of the curve and getting in the way of your colleagues further back in the lanes next to your side

Shit. Holyshit. Fuck. You just fell in front of the entire football team.

One of your friends bends down next to you to help and asks what happened, you blame the laces of your sneakers that untied when you fell because any reason is less embarrassing than what actually happened.

Your knee is bleeding and one of your arms is scraped, so the coach decides to have pity and leave you on the bench until it's time to leave. You make your way there with your ears burning and your head down.

If Van had any kind of interest in you, it definitely disappeared after that.

You remain alone on the bench, avoiding looking anywhere for a long time until Misty Quigley appears at your side with things to bandage your wound and you happily let her fill the silence with whatever she wants to say for the next few minutes.

Your night is spent tossing and turning in bed over the shame you've experienced and the next day as you walk through the hallways, the possibility of the goalie talking to you again doesn't even cross your mind as the first classes go by like a blur.

And then you're at your lunch table waiting for Nat to show up to talk like she usually does when she doesn't disappear around school, but after a few minutes a head of red hair takes over your vision instead of the usual dyed blonde.

“What’s up?” Van is sitting next to you, with the same crooked smile and her cheek propped up in a fist.

“Uh, nothing much really.” You have no idea what is going on; she is sitting with you, smiling at you and talking to you. Why is she doing this? You can feel a few other people's eyes on you through the interaction.

She introduces herself, even though you already know who she is, holding out a hand for you to shake – they’re rough, you notice, with calluses adorning the fingers –, probably just so you can introduce yourself too. “I’m Van,” she says. And that’s it.

She’s been Van since the beginning. Not Vanessa Palmer or the Yellowjackets goalkeeper, just Van. She says it so matter-of-factly that it would simply sound wrong to call her anything else.

You engage in a conversation about anything and everything after you introduce yourself – just your nickname too. You assume Nat already told her your name at some point yesterday – speaking as if you already knew each other, and somehow it doesn't feel weird.

Your eyes end up focusing on a black-haired girl crying at a table on the other side of the cafeteria with another girl a little smaller than her. You don't know either of them, but you know that they are both on the main team too.

“Hey,” you point with your chin: “What’s up with her?”

Van finds the source of your attention and raises her eyebrows, “Oh, you mean Mari?”

You answer with a simple nod of your head and that's enough for Van to invade your personal space with a devilish expression and a mischievous smile.

“She had a bad break up.” Van says and you tilt your head at her.

“But was it that bad?” You arch an eyebrow, “People don’t cry in such full places over nothing.”

Van moves a little closer to you and lowers her voice conspiratorially, as if she’s telling you a very important secret: “She were dumped," and then a dramatic pause, “For the guy’s half-sister.”

"What?" Your jaw drops completely and Van nods her head.

“Lottie told me, she knows about these things.” Ahe rests her face in her hand again, “She said she caught them kissing at her last party, Mari must have known.”

“‘The fuck?” The shocked look you give her only seems to amuse her.

“Oh, she's crying right now but boy, she was mad as hell in our math class today.” Van blows an exaggerated raspberry, “I bet she'll end up coming up with an absurd plan to get revenge and burn down his house just like in She Devil if the story spread.”

It will definitely spread, you thought.

An unexpected giggle escaped your chest – you might have felt a little bad for talking shit about a girl you didn't even know later, but not now – and your gaze found Van's face again.

“Yeah.” You start, “Except she was replaced by the guy’s own sister– half-sister, whatever, instead of a famous writer.”

Her face lights up completely as she speaks, bright green eyes like those of an excited puppy.

“You like that movie?” She asks.

“I love that movie,” you correct, “It’s iconic and Meryl Streep looks good.”

"She does.”

This seems to completely cement Van's interest in you, because she continues to sit with you at lunch for the rest of the week. When Nat finally shows up, she arches an eyebrow, but doesn't question it.

You and Van get closer in a surprisingly short period of time, but the way she seems to settle into your life is gradual and your silly little crush on the goalie seems to get stronger without even realizing it. Waiting for your lunches in the cafeteria, conversations in the hallways, glances exchanged during physics class – since you sat too far away to really talk – and the exchange of silly words about movies you like.

You have the habit of going out for a run every weekend in the morning – it's not easy to keep the best time in the routines, after all – and one day you decide to change your route by pure coincidence to a longer one that ends up near one of the trailer parks in the city; the fact that Nat mentioned one day that she’s neighbors with a certain teammate has nothing to do with it.

It surprises you that Van is awake at 8 am on a Saturday, but you find her – by pure coincidence, nothing more than that – outside a sad trailer watering an even sadder small garden. When she sees you, your hair is a mess and breathing is a little out of step, and you give her an awkward wave as you catch your breath. It's the first time you've seen each other outside of school.

“You’re stalking me now, weirdo?” Her crooked smile tells you that there's no real bite behind it.

"No," You place your hands on your hips, kicking some loose pebbles on the floor with your sneakers. Yes, you liar, “I always run around here, how come we’ve never seen each other before?”

Fuck it, you think. If Van can just show up for you because she wants to, then you can do the same.

She seems happy to abandon her garden chores when you ask her to go for a walk and she agrees to make you company once there’s no running involved; a walk, because no one deserves to be running around like Rocky Balboa at this time of the morning.

You walk together side by side through the neighborhood with your shoulders brushing against each other as if you've done this many times before, Van whistling a random tune carelessly.

Talking to her when the initial nervousness passes is one of the easiest things you've ever done and you find yourself enjoying and listening to everything Van tells you. This potential friendship – maybe more. Maybe, just maybe – it's the most fun thing that's happened in your year so far.

Your walks together also become a habit after that. You just come back the next day and Van is there with a smile on her face, so you keep coming back and she keeps smiling.

You also start walking home after school. Neither of you have a car, so why not?

You crave her company and she craves yours, you stay for Van's training and she stays for yours – no one else on the teams has the energy to complain about exaggerated movements or stumbles on tracks – and then when you're ready, you head off to your ways together and it makes your heart warm every time.

Everything about Van just makes you want to know her even more; the way she gestures with her arms and declares with the utmost disgust how she keeps distance from any musical that isn’t animated – “But you only watched Cats!” “And that was enough!” –, they way she tells you about how she and Taissa are watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch every Friday, or how she makes fun of any weird thing Misty said during practice that week.

You listen and absorb everything with an stupid drunk smile on your face, letting her entwine your arms and chatter to her heart's content.

Keep talking, you want to say. I love your voice, seeing you happy makes me happy. Keep talking, keep talking, keep talking.

You invite her to your house for the first time under the pretext of studying, after she throws herself on the chair next to you with a tearful expression during physics class.

“I’m gonna fail,” she whines, banging her head dramatically against the open notebook on the table, “The teacher hates me.”

You start teasingly: “Maybe he would hate you a little less if you actually paid attention in his class.”

"I do!" Van protests. “It’s personal, he must think I’m strange or somethin’ and lower my grades for it.” She crosses her arms with a pout and a roll of eyes.

“Of course." You agree with an exaggerated nod, “And you, yourself, are strange and unusual.”

“Yes!” She exclaims, ignoring the looks she attracts, “But that’s not the point, don’t quote Beetlejuice to me now, woman, this is serious.”

“Oh, wow, okay then.” You shrug.

Van looks at you before resting her head on the table again. She seems so hopeless that you give in.

“Hey, c’mon,” you say, letting your hand rest on her hair and stroke it gently: “You can come to my house today. I’ll help you study for the next test.”

Van's shoulders tense suddenly and her head snaps up so fast it makes you jump back.

"Really?" Her eyes are wide, face as red as her hair: “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

That's strange. Van is usually the one who makes you nervous, not the other way around.

“You won’t bother me at all,” you reply without giving it much thought, “There won’t be anyone at home anyway.”

And then there's silence, Van's face turns impossibly redder and after a second of confusion, you understand.

You just invited Van to your house. Alone. There is an innuendo there. Several possibilities that neither of you will mention, but that you both know are there.

Your face starts to heat up, so you clear your throat and stutter a confused “Are you coming then?”, because you can't let her realize what you just thought about.

Van responds with a squeaky “Okay, sure." and hurries back to her usual seat when class finally begins.

When you adjust yourself in the chair and think about finally releasing the breath you didn't realize you were holding, your gaze finds Lottie Matthews staring at you three seats away with her eyebrows raised. Shit.

Lottie says nothing, just wrinkles her nose contemplatively and faces forward, but she knows. She always knows. You feel your hands sweat and shake with nervousness at the prospect of becoming the new school gossip like Mari last month. The queer who fell too hard for a Yellowjacket only to get it wrong and ruin everything.

You shake your head. No, Lottie wouldn't do that. You weren't exactly friends, but she’s not mean, there was no reason for her to mess with you, your thoughts were just talking too loud. Plus, it's not like she actually saw anything. You didn't do anything forbidden. Friends go to each other's houses all the time. Your crush is not obvious.

That's stupid, you think, it doesn't matter. But you don't really believe it. Yes, it matters, at least in this little town at the end of the world.

You just hope you don't end up crying in the cafeteria too.

There is no training that day, so as soon as classes are over, you leave school together and make your way home. For the first time, the silence is awkward and makes you feel bad for making the invitation the wrong way. Maybe Van just doesn't swing that way and you made her uncomfortable somehow. It's a possibility; you're not exactly in the closet to the rest of the school.

Still, the way her hand brushes against yours gives you hope that this isn't the case.

When Van enters your house, the first thing she does is look around.

“Wow,” she begins. “Its really…”

“Small?” You complete, feeling somewhat conscious. Your house wasn't a trailer, but it wasn't anything compared to the houses of Van's cool friends. Definitely nothing like Lottie or Jackie.

“Empty.” She corrects.

Huh. It's true, your house was praticly always empty, not only because your parents spent as much time as they could out of it, pretending they didn't have a kid to still take care of, but also because of the lack of furniture and personality. It didn't seem like a cozy place to a family live. As a whole, it could be really lonely most of the time. Van seems to have noticed this with a single glance.

You choose to ignore the comment, suddenly thinking that this might end up becoming too intimate. In a vulnerable way.

When Van enters your bedroom for the first time, she gives the place the same curious look as the rest of the house, but her jaw quickly drops.

“You got a TV in your room?” She sounds completely shocked.

“Yeah.” You snort in amusement, “My uncle runs an appliance store, he fixed one that no one picked up last summer, so now it’s mine.”

Van still looks very impressed as her eyes roam the rest of the room. Your bedroom was, perhaps, the only place in the house where someone actually seemed to live. Posters and photos adorned the colorful walls and it seemed like every little thing in the room was directly a part of you, from an old stuffed animal on one of the shelves to the small pile of messy clothes on the chair next to the study table because you weren't planning on receiving no one to remember to put it away.

The tension from before seems to be dissipating and you can see from the expression on her face the exact moment Van notices your small VHS collection up ahead.

“Okay. That's it. We're only hanging out here from now.”

And that awkward moment passes completely.

In a matter of minutes you both are comfortable in your bed with books and notebooks spread around, after convincing Van to start studying with the promise that she could choose whatever movie she wanted for you to watch when you were finished.

Van seems to dedicate herself twice as much, eager to fulfill the agreement and the hours pass quickly as she understands the concepts you explain about the subject and then all you have to do is say that it's time for a break for her to jump out of bed with a smile from ear to ear and choose a movie.

She puffs out her chest holding the tape in her hands and proudly declares that you're watching Jurassic Park and you don't even think to question it when you return the smile and takes on the task of making popcorn.

Van ends up leaning against you throughout the movie, reciting all the lines from memory along with the characters close to your ear – she knows all of them – and your heart remains racing with blood rushing in your ears until she leaves.

The two of you keep hanging out at your house again and again, just like she said it would be. Sometimes you study or watch something together, but most of the time Van simply keeps you company while you do your chores around the house, following you around like a puppy while you cook or do the laundry. Your home has never been so fulled or welcoming.

You go home after classes and practice – occasionally with Nat in tow – and stay together until it's late and dark, every now and then you say that she could just sleep over as a joke, but she never accepts it. You gulps the pang of sadness and rejection each time it happens.

And you guys talk a lot. You've never been so delighted to hear someone blab about anything.

Van spends days talking about how excited she is for summer while helping you chop the things for dinner. She and Natalie always get jobs together and she’s dying to buy a car – “You’re the runner here, lady, not me.” –, an old dark green pickup truck. She shows you the leaflet with a smile so proud that you don't have the courage to admit that you thought the thing was horrible; she tells you about how she wears the clothes of her older brother who apparently left town as soon as he finished school while helping you fold the freshly washed clothes, some of her own included.

It's so domestic that you wonder why this didn't happen sooner, depriving either of you of a routine together like this for so long seemed mean.

One night you’re sleeping soundly when you are startled awake by a loud knock on your window and you turn to find a face pressed against the glass. You almost have a heart attack.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Van!”

She's standing there with a pout and big eyes, pointing at the lock and you consider leaving her outside for the fright she got you. One look at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed tells you that it's already past 2:00 am.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice rasp and tired from sleep, letting her come in, but only because you don't want her to get a cold outside.

Van sneaks into the room, suddenly shy, playing with the hem of the oversized t-shirt she's wearing and avoiding your eyes. She gives you an awkward smile.

“I was just wondering if we could have that sleepover today?”

She looks upset. Something happend. Something that upset her enough that she decided to run to your home in the middle of the night.

“Van,” your expression softened, worry flooding your voice, “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” She clicked her tongue, still not looking at you in the eye.

Okay, you won't get anything out of it then. Van likes to talk, but not when it comes to problems like this. Problems at home.

The thing is that you and Van have a lot in common, like your dubious sense of humor and your love for movies, but are opposites in many others; the main one: where your house is always empty, hers is always full. Full of people who take away the smile that you always try hard to keep on her face.

“Okay." You sigh, taking her hand and making your way to the messed bed, “Let’s get some sleep then.”

“Oh.” She looks even more embarrassed, her sweaty hand in yours, “I can take the couch or the floor. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”

You let out an outraged huff. “You run to my house, climb in through my window, ask me to have a sleepover and now you want to sleep on the floor?”

She drags her feet on the floor, “...Yeah?”

You choose to ignore her answer, practically dragging her over to the bed and making her lie down. When she does, Van moves to the other side of the mattress, clearly trying her best not to disturb you, but in a fit of courage and exhaustion, you wrap an arm around her and press her against your chest. She lets out a squeak of surprise at the action.

“Go to sleep, Van.” You mumble against the back of her neck, burying your face in her thick hair.

Her body is still tense against yours, but Van allows one hand to rest on the arm you keep around her waist.

You lose count of how long you spend lying awake in silence cohabiting in each other's space, but when you wake up in the morning, Van is still asleep, her hand never leaving your arm.

You guys don't talk about it and you never find out what really happened to make her feel so bad that day, but Van shows up more often to stay the night. She never tells you when she's coming and you get scared every time when you hear the knocking on the window – you swear she does it on purpose, that little smartass.

You realize that you really love her, not just as a silly high school crush, in the middle of a hot May. When Van makes you stand in the line at the cinema ticket office for two and a half hours and miss the day of school to get tickets to watch Jurassic Park - The Lost World. Because if you saw the first one together then you should see the second one too, obviously.

You're sure you wouldn't put yourself through this for anyone else – but don't let Natalie know that.

The whole situation feels a lot like a date and you try to ignore the anxiety that washes over you as you rummage through your closet for an outfit that you think is good enough for the night. The way Van's jaw drops when she looks at you when she meets you at the front door makes the effort completely worth it.

She spends the entire movie almost bouncing in her seat with excitement and swearing at the parts that don't make sense. Because apparently the movie is also really bad, even though she's so happy watching it, and you manage to be bold enough to hide your face on her shoulder during the “scary” parts and leave your head resting there until the end.

You're not proud at all to say you spent seven bucks on a squeezy dinosaur for her on the way back, but it's your senior year, damn it, let the girl have fun with her silly toy before college.

You go back home – ‘home’ you think now, not ‘your house’. Your home. Your home with Van. – with her ranting about special effects and scenes you don't remember because you spent more time looking at her than the screen and you end up on the balcony before you know it.

“That was so good.” Van is just inches away from you, looking at you with bright eyes full of happiness; your hands are sweaty, so you put them in your pockets so she doesn't notice.

“Yeah, it really was.” You return with a playful smile, “Even though you convinced me to spend hours under the sun for it.”

“Hey!” She protests, moving impossibly closer, “What would the experience be worth without a little effort, huh?”

“Sure.” You giggle.

She's so pretty, you think. Hair down and a black jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at you as if she actually saw you. Knows you. I want to kiss her.

“You had fun today?” Van asks, unable to avoid the small tone of doubt that escapes her voice.

I want you to kiss me, you think.

“Yes,” you answer instead, “Yes, I did.”

One night Van simply comes in through your window and you don't even react anymore, leaning into her body under the covers.

“You gotta stop coming in through my window,” you grumble.

“Then stop leaving it open,” she huffs, “Someone might break in, you know that?”

You can feel her smile against your neck and you're about to fall asleep again when you hear her voice whispering:

“You’re gonna go to my games, now that we actually have a chance to go to the nationals, right?”

“Of course,” you mumble with a comforting pat of her hand on your stomach, “I’ll be the first one in the stands cheering you on. You’ll be embarrassed of me.”

Van buries her face in your shoulder, “Good.”

You get sick the exact same week that her last game until the nationals happens, lamenting the stupid flu that left you feverish and stuck at home for days.

You can't go to school and Van can't come to see you because Coach Martinez has increased the training routine as the team advances in the championship. You assume it must be really tiring because Van doesn't show up at night either. It's embarrassing the way you can't sleep properly without her.

The worst of all: you lose Van's game.

You resign yourself to spending the afternoon on the couch brooding in remorse until you hear a knock on the door.

Coming across Van's sad face with her clearly trying not to cry was not what you expected when you opened the door, knowing for sure that you would only be greeted later – probably after a victory party – with excited screams and bright little dog eyes asking for help to pack her bags.

"We lost." She says, eyes glued on the carpet.

“Oh." You say stupidly, “Oh, dear.”

Your voice seems to turn a switch inside her, because Van lifts her head to you with her lips trembling and the next moment you two are on the couch with her practically sprawled on your lap and crying. Crying hard. You've never seen her like this before.

You hear something about Jackie hitting the post at the last moment as she sobs, but what seems to make her really upset are the balls she couldn't save during the game. Like it would’ve make difference.

Comforting was never really your strong suit, you can't say you're really upset that the Yellowjackets lost, the idea of having Van so far away from you even for a few days didn't please you at all. A bad feeling in your chest told you that something could go wrong.

“Well,” you run your fingers up and down her back, “You know one good thing about this? We can go to Homecoming now.”

Her breathing hitches, but if Van notices how you say 'we' instead of 'you' she doesn't say anything.

She's on your lap, nose close to yours, eyes swollen with tears but with the same look from that night at the movies, the one that makes your hands sweat and leaves your heart weak.

Unlike the movies, however, she kisses you. Like, she actually moves forward and kisses you.

Her lips are wet and soft against yours and you tilt your head to pursue them only for her to pull away with a panicked expression.

"I'm sorry!" Van exclaims, scooting toward the door as if her skin had burned: “I’m sorry! I– I shouldn’t– I’ll see you at school.”

And then she leaves. You don't even have time to react, she runs out the door and gets into that horrible pickup truck – which she had parked in the driveway for the first time less than two weeks ago, wanting to take you for a ride to celebrate the purchase – and you're left standing in the doorway like an idiot after the car disappears from your vision, as if you were waiting for her to come back – you were.

You don't see her at school for the rest of the week. She doesn't show up in class or practice and she certainly doesn't show up at your house, Van is avoiding you and it's so obvious that you feel like crying the entire time you're there, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the halls.

Fuck. You knew this would happen, that you would screw up and make the person you care about the most hate you.

You huff in frustration, letting your head fall against the table feeling someone's gaze on you, someone who isn't Van.

Lottie Matthews isn't skipping physics class, she has no reason to be, so you shouldn't have freaked out as much as you did when you looked up and saw her towering over you next to your desk.

“Shit–” You gasp, jumping back in your seat and almost hitting her chin.

Lottie tilts her head, completely unfazed, with a look of false innocence and curiosity on her face. The look of someone in search of an information.

The vision of Mari crying at the beginning of the year comes back to your mind and a shiver with a line of sweat runs down your spine. Oh no.

“Did you guys break up?” She asks and it's the last thing you expected.

“What?”

Lottie sits next to you, smoothing her skirt over her legs, completely at ease.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she starts with an anxious air, “But please do 'cause I really want to know.”

"Know what?" God, your head is already hurting from this conversation.

Lottie seems to realize that your confusion is genuine, because she stops and frowns at you.

“Didn’t you and Van break up? I thought you were together.”

What the fuck?

"...No? We’re not?”

“Are you asking me?” Lottie arches an eyebrow, also confused.

"No." You clear your throat and roll your tense shoulders, “We’re not.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t seem to know what to say after that, strangely disappointed – just like you.

The period passes with the two of you in an awkward, resigned silence and as you're leaving, Lottie follows you down the halls, attracting glances as you pass by, which was the last thing you wanted at the moment.

“What now?” You sigh.

“I think you should talk to her and sort things out.” Lottie says, “She seems so sad lately, without her usual sparkle.”

You could understand where Lottie was coming from, seeing Van upset was truly heartbreaking, but you couldn't help the bitter pang in your chest. She ran away after the kiss, not you. The kiss she gave you.

“She’s hiding from me." You admit begrudgingly, “Where else could I talk to her, anyway?”

“In the Homecoming, of course!” Lottie nods at you sagely, as if couldn't be more obvious.

“Of course.” You agree, because, the hell, why not?

The Homecoming is on the weekend, the same weekend the team was supposed to be away for the nationals, which must be why the girls are there, to try and lift their spirits.

You recognize Jackie talking excited to Taissa about something near the tables at the back of the gym, next to a grumpy Shauna with a glass of punch in a hand and the other placed on her waist – in a definitely more then friendly way –, but no sign of of Van in sight.

You end up outside with Natalie, smoking against a wall, as always happen at every party you're at together. She's telling you about how she saw Jeff and Randy with a bottle of liquor before coming in and that they would probably baptize the punch, you both talked about ratting them out to one of the teachers in charge after sneaking a few cups and you probably would’ve done that if Lottie hadn't joined you – coming from who knows where – to ask for a cigarette too.

Nat joked about how it probably wasn't like the expensive brands she seemed to prefer at her parties, but she handed one over without a hitch and the three of you sat there, looking up at the dark and starry sky for a moment.

“You haven’t seen her yet?” Lottie breaks the silence, casually breathing in the smoke.

Nat looks at you sideways and all you do is shrug, not wanting to admit the defeat.

“You should try it near the stands.” She declares.

“What are you, a psychic or something?” You scoff, but go anyway because like Van said, Lottie knows about these things.

She is there. Of course she is. Sitting in the stands staring out at the empty field, wearing a light blue suit with a white shirt and a matching shiny tie that you have no idea where she could have gotten, because there's no way her mom would have let her buy it.

Van notices you approaching by the sound of your footsteps on the ground, her head turning to watch you and for a moment you're afraid she'll run away again.

She doesn't, so you approach, trying your best not to run towards her.

“I gotta quit smoking soon,” you say, stepping on the cigarette your hand was holding and making an overly dramatic effort to sit next to her with heavy breaths, “Or I’ll end up being kicked of track ‘till year is finished.”

Van snorts, “Right, Ponyboy Curtis.”

For a moment it's like anything hasn’t changed between you both, you bet that if you tried with conviction you could almost pretend that nothing had happened. Almost.

“You ran away from me." You say.

“I did.” Van lowers her head, quietly. Embarrassed. You’re not sure of what exacly.

"Why?" You ask, because that's the question that's been running through your mind for days.

“I–” Van looks away from you, “I thought you wouldn't want that.”

“And I thought you knew how much I wanted it." You say and Van lifts her head to stare at you with wide, hopefully eyes, “What do you want, Van?”

Her jaw drops and she looks like she was expecting everything but that, her hands twitch on her thighs, as if she wants to reach you.

“You look so beautiful right now." She sighs softly before steadying her voice, “You look so beautiful that I want to kiss you again.”

"Do it."

And she does, hard and desperate, crushing her nose against yours, as if she's hungry and can't get enough; you wrap your arms around her, hands touching her with the same need.

The lack of air is too much, so Van pulls away from you to immediately start distributing quick kisses down your neck, as if it could all disappear in a second, becoming confident when you tilt your head to grant her more access and only stopping after the hiss that you let go because she bites.

“So…” she laughs nervously, “What now?”

"Now?" You’re out of breath, “Well, can we go back inside and help Nat steal liquour to screw with Jeff and Randy or…”

"Or?" Van arches an eyebrow in amusement.

“We can go home and I can show you how much I missed you.” You shrug, casually tightening your hands on her waist.

“Hm,” she pretends to think about it, “I guess I like the first option better.”

Van laughs at the sound of your offended squeal and avoids the slap you try to give her shoulder.

“Careful, baby,” she intertwines your hand with hers, “I’m gonna start to think that you love me.”

“Oh, you better know that.”

You pull her by her stupid shiny tie and kiss her when she laughs again and let Van guide you to that hideous truck staggering laughing through the crowd of students.

Yeah, you think. I wouldn't have it any other way.

[w2soneshots]

Accident -KSI

words: 0.7k+

warnings: angst, skiing accident, hospitals, recovery.

summary: when abroad skiing for a sidemen video you have an accident and everyone’s worried about you.

notes: I love this request and I feel like JJ is such a cutie so he would definitely react like this💞. I hope you enjoy my loves!!😊🫶🏼

Liked by tobjizzle, taliamar and 521,870 others

y/username: how it started vs how it's going😭

-comments-

ksi: ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

freyanightingale: my poor girl🥺

y/nfanpage21: omfg what happened? Are you ok?

user31083649: isn't she filming for a sidemen vid?

-> user29736105: yea. I'm not sure if they'll post it now tho🤷‍♂️

"Shit! Babe, are you okay?!" JJ shouted, racing over to me. I could barely hear him. My ears were ringing and my head hurt. "y/n? y/n can you hear me? Answer me!" He scrambled as I began to come back into consciousness. "I'm ok." I croaked. My voice coming out much more quiet than I thought it would. "Fucking hell! You scared the shit out of me." I tried to sit up, a sharp pain spread through my leg. I hissed. JJ started to panic for a second time. "Don't move! What is it? Your leg?" I nodded. "Ok I'm gonna call an ambulance."

It felt a little bit like a blur after that. I was rushed to the nearby hospital where they completely checked me over. Almost an hour after we arrived the doctor came back with the results of their tests. "So, you have a concussion which is most likely from the impact of the fall and is the reason you blacked out. Your leg is severely bruised since that was what you landed on but nothing is broken. You are very lucky." She explained sweetly. A weight lifted from my shoulders. JJ let out a relived breath. "Thank you." I smiled. "You'll need to rest and take it easy for the next few weeks but you should be just fine."

We flew home the next day and I was treated like a complete princess. JJ cancelled everything in order to take care of me. I slept, watched reality tv, cuddled with our little dog and ate the food JJ brought to me, which mostly consisted of uber eats since I'm usually the cook. Yinka (JJ's mum) came round to bring me some home cooked food and to make sure that I was okay, which was really sweet. I got many texts from all of my friends along with the boys who were really concerned when they saw I'd had an accident.

I wasn't initially supposed to be going on the trip but Vik became Ill so they asked if I could step in last minute, since every time I go on there channel the video does really well. I agreed and we left for the airport the next day.

I spent the first day on the bad team with Simon and Harry which they both felt bad about but I'm really close with Simon since I've known him for so many years so I wasn't that bothered. I had to spend the night in a tiny room with them, me on the top bunk. Then JJ and Harry swapped so I ended up remaining on the bad team with Simon and JJ, I wasn't really mad though because I can't ski and I'd rather have the funny experience with JJ.

Then only one hour in I lost control and practically rolled off of a small snowy cliff. I landed in the snow after only falling about three metres but I was going full speed, doing something I wasn't familiar with. They asked if I wanted the video to be cancelled and I told them that was ridiculous. I fell on the last day and wasn't injured that badly plus the whole thing was caught on camera so it was great content.

"I'm seriously so glad you're ok. I was really worried for a second." JJ said quietly as he gently ran his hand through my hair. I yawned as we were about to go to sleep. "Could you imagine if I had died? I can see the headlines now, 'KSI's girlfriend dies while filming sidemen Sunday'" I played it out with my hands. He chuckled. "I love you. Good night." He kissed my forehead. I nuzzled closer into his shoulder. "I love you too." I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.

Liked by ksi, faithloisak and 410,732 others

y/username: thank you for your lovely messages but I'm ok, just realised I'm shit at skiing😘

-comments-

miniminter: committed to the content

-> y/username: a little too committed😂

taliamar: side note: you look stunning!

y/nfanpage21: I'm glad she's alive x

user71209374: the puppy🥹💕

[multifan2022]

Cyclone x Mavsdaughter 4

Masterpage

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Your head snapped to the side as you heard your daughter's voice. You watched as Penny called for her to stay on the deck. But Emery was a daddy's girl at heart, and no one ever could stop her from getting to Beau. Your body tensed as Beau crouched down to scoop her into his arms. You could feel the shock in the group around you. Could hear the whispers of “Daddy?” And “What the fuck”. That last one came from Rooster you knew. Emerys voice cut threw the panic though “Mommy! Look Daddys here!” 

Beau looked at you and even with his sunglasses on you knew he was looking at you with sympathy. He knew this isn't how you wanted anything to come out, but life was pretty cruel. “The better question is why you're here little lady.. Why aren't you at school?” Beau asked as you got closer to him, having broken away from the group. You answered and told him it was canceled, trying to ignore the glare Maverick was giving you as you stepped next to your little family. 

Beau leaned down and kissed your forehead, resting his free hand on your hip as he looked at the group of aviators over your head. Javy and Jake looked unsurprised, because Jake already knew, and what Jake knew Javy knew. Nat, Hondo, Bob, Payback and Fanboy all looked confused. The others had run off to play on their own, not being part of the group in the same way. But when his eyes landed on Rooster, he could see the pure anger rolling off the man. One that he desperately wanted to shield you from, but didnt know how to.

When he pulled back, he could see tears in your eyes. At this moment you weren't Captain Simpson, his strong beautiful wife. You were the girl he watched stand at your tap out ceremony alone. The one who cried when a random woman came and tapped her out. The girl who refused to believe for the longest time that he was even remotely interested in her. The one he didnt see again until you entered Top Gun. The one who had to rebuild herself with the help of himself after being left by not only her father, but her best friend and first love. He wasn't happy to see the sadness and vulnerability in your eyes. 

“If you want.. You can invite them over, I'll call Solomon, I'm sure they will watch Em for the night so we can all talk..” Beau said, moving his hand from your hip to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You nodded but didn't make a move to do anything, so he sighed and kissed your forehead again. “Go home, I'll meet you there.” You didn't look back as you kissed Emerys cheek and told her to be good for her uncle. Practically running to your jeep before speeding out of the parking lot. 

Beau sighed again, setting Em down “Baby go get your stuff from Penny and say thank you. You're gonna go stay with Uncle Solo for a while ok?” The little girl nodded and talked animatedly about her uncle's dogs for a moment before running to get her stuff. Cyclone turned and let himself fall back into work mode in a nanosecond as he looked down at Maverick. The shorter man was glaring at him in a way that he assumed was supposed to be intimidating, but he was nowhere near scared.. Like at all. 

“I'll text you our address.. You can show up in an hour and we can all talk like adults. Or not, it doesn't really matter to me. But this is probably your last chance to have a shot at being in your daughter or granddaughter's life.. So choose carefully Maverick.” 

~~~

Thirty minutes later the squad was following Mavericks bike as they passed through a clearly gated community. The security guard waved them on, having already received a call from Beau and watched sadly as you pulled through crying. You were both highly respected members of the community and he hated seeing you upset. The gps led him into the driveway of a gorgeous 2 story Crosby style home. Phoenix gasped as she and Bob got out of her car and commented about how it looked custom. Even from the outside it was clear the home was both lived in and taken care of. Your jeep was parked in the open 4 car garage, waiting for Beaus truck. Three bikes, one that was clearly for Emery, a pogo stick, skateboard, roller blades and a handful of other toys were leaned against the far wall. 

Rooster didn't know how to feel about any of this. He couldn't see past his anger. Anger that you had moved on and he hadn't. That some rather large part of him always thought you would just be waiting on him. He was mad that Emery had dark hair, but it didn't have the golden brown color his did, it had the deep chocolate brown that Beaus did. That her eyes were green instead of brown. That her last name as well as yours were Simpson instead of Bradshaw. 

Deep deep down he knew he had nobody to blame but himself, and maybe a lack of therapy but mostly himself. But he couldn't stop looking at this huge house and comparing it to the bungalow his parents had left him. His was a nice home, but this was immaculate in comparison and it only made his anger hotter. When they stepped inside he took in the huge wood doors and the stone floors clicked against everyone's steps. While everyone besides Maverick ooh and ahhed over how absolutely breathtaking the home was, he just watched you. 

They all followed you down the hall, looking into a huge living room with a 70 in TV and a large wrap around couch. Then an equally as beautiful kitchen and dining room, before they entered a billiards room. All the guys making comments about wanting to play as they stepped back outside and fell silent again. You had led them to the private deck out back. It has multiple seats and tables scattered around it. But it was clear you wanted them to sit at the long one with 10 or so seats. Phoenix and Hondo were busy gushing over the bird of paradise everywhere, while Javy was talking about the pool with a little waterfall and hot tub. 

They didn't notice when you crossed the deck and stepped into sliding glass doors and dropped thick curtains, but Mav and Rooster did. When you walked back towards them you nervously looked back over your shoulder, hoping to see your husband but he clearly isn't back yet. You didn't know but Solomon had met Beau at the car to take Emery. He was now speeding across the neighborhood to get back to you. He didn't want to leave you alone as much as you didnt want to be alone. You stepped back to the table and sighed, “I ah.. I ordered pizzas.. There's a fridge right here by the grill.. Its got beer and water if anyone wants some..” 

You tried to swallow past the thickness in your throat as a few of them got up and helped themselves. Jake almost felt bad when he noticed how nervous you were, and by the end of the night the guilt of wanting this to happen would be eating him alive. As he looked around his eyes watching the beautiful dark skinned man grab two beers, he wondered how he would feel if someone found out about him and Javy and outed them before they were ready. He thought about pulling you aside and apologizing but knew that would just make things worse. When everyone resettled you anxiously tapped your fingers until Hondo sat his hand on top of yours and squeezed. 

“I feel like a dummy.. I've known you were married for years and never thought to ask. It's shocking to me that it's Admiral Simpson of course.. But now that I think back I can see it.. He looks at you differently. Softer look, softer tone, I can't believe I never second guessed it.” He squeezed your hand again before pulling back, and him speaking seemed to be what everyone needed to start talking. 

Phoenix was next, “Yeah I obviously don't know you well but it is crazy to think of Cyclone as a husband.. Even more as a dad. He's just so stoic and domineering, I dont think Ive ever really pictured him having a life outside of work.” She pauses clearly contemplating something before speaking softer “Which now that I think about it is kinda shitty..” She had seen the way he held you, kissed your head and taken on a burden you clearly couldn't. The soft way he looked at both you and your child on the beach. How he smiled down at Emery as she ran to him. It was clear that there was a side to Cyclone they were not privy to. 

The others nodded in agreement as you smiled shyly. “Beau is.. Complicated I guess you could say. He very much has a work life and a home life and beyond me he likes to keep them separate. We try to not interact much at work, so that people aren't saying things..” You look at Hangman out of the corner of your eye and see him cringe a little. “It's also not widely known, clearly, that we are married. People see Beau as someone who's married to his job. Noone thinks of people like him as people who do things like go to their daughters soccer games and such. Between that and me not changing my name it's really only known in the higher ups. And since I don't get moved around a lot thankfully, it's not gossiped about.” Sighing you look down at the table and start picking at a spot before speaking quieter “It's mostly just talk about how people didn't realize Maverick had a daughter.. So that kept the spotlight off my marriage.” 

The group was silent again as they all turned to Mav who had an unreadable expression on his face. Rooster scoffed, not even trying to hide it behind a swig of beer as he looked at you. You just stared back at him, daring him to say what you knew he wanted to say. It only took a moment or two before he broke “So how long after you left did you wait before jumping into bed with a commanding officer? That's how you got out of Mav pulling your papers too huh.” Even though you were all outside, and the air was cooling off thanks to the setting sun and the fans on the overhang, it felt like it all had been sucked out. Nobody dared to move, or even blink as the two of you watched each other. 

“You left me Bradley.. You left then Maverick left. And not that it's anyone's business but I didn't not jump into bed with Beau-” Mavericks voice cut you off as he sighed and wiped a hand down his face “God it's weird to hear you call him that..” Anger was starting to roll under your skin as you looked at the two men who had clearly built an unspoken alliance to try and make you feel bad. The shitty thing was, it was working. These two men had broken you into tiny pieces when they left. Made you feel small, and unworthy as the dust settled. So no matter how angry you felt right now, pieces of that broken girl were starting to shine threw. 

“I call him by his name outside of work, because we are married.. And no.. Maverick didn't pull my papers because until the start of this mission he didn't even know I was in the Navy.. Ice knew, but I've always been second to you Bradshaw.. They weren't worried about me anymore because I suddenly had no attachments to you.” Bradley scoffed again, not believing at all that Mav didn't know. Maverick was offended and spoke again. “You're telling me Ice knew? Do you really think I wouldn't have been there for you had I known?” 

It was your turn to scoff, even if there were tears streaming down your face. “Ice knew I was an aviator, Slider was one of my Top Gun teachers the first time I was here. And yeah Maverick.. As a matter of fact, I know you wouldn't be there. Ice said you never once asked him to look for me after you guys up and left. So you don't know that I stood at my tap out ceremony and cried when one of my classmates' moms tapped me out. You don't know that I pushed BEAU away for almost a year because I thought I was unlovable because my dad left me. Who wants a girl who isnt even loved by her father?!” 

You were full on crying by this point, Hondo had leaned forward again and grabbed one of your hands. He had always had mad respect for your dad, but at this moment he was so angry at him. “I had to walk myself down the aisle. I've had to explain time and time again that ‘yes i'm the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. No we are not the same. And No I can't tell him you said hi.. He hasn't spoken to me in almost 20 years.’ I got myself into flight school. For your information, Bradley, I didn't meet Beau officially until I was 26, YOU left ME when I was 17. So I waited almost ten years, sorry that wasn't good enough for you but what did you expect? Did you think that I would just be sitting around waiting to see if one day you would want me again?” 

Bradley was getting angry again, his mouth was saying things before his brain was even processing them. “Well I sure as hell didn't think I'd come back to find you married with kids.. I can't believe you sold yourself out to someone like him. Was it really the daddy issues like Hangman said? Pathetic.” The last word was whispered but everyone heard it. Phoenix aimed a kick at Bradleys knee that had him grunting in pain but not backing down. “What happened to ‘Forever and Always’, I know its from that stupid show you loved growing up but I thought we were end game. But no, you're just like your dad, lying to me and leaving.” Over Bradleys angry voice, nobody heard the front door shut, or the clicking of Beaus' shoes as he carried pizzas towards the deck.

You were so blown away by everything he said that you couldn't even respond, unfortunately that gave Maverick time to speak. “Past everything Bradley said, I can't believe you never reached out to me. You clearly had contact with Tom, you never asked him to ask me to call.. Never thought ‘maybe my dad will want to know I'm marrying someone who hates him?’ Never wondered if I would want to walk you down the aisle? Jesus.. You kept my granddaughter away from me!” 

You jumped slightly when he slammed his beer bottle down on the table. The rest of the group was glaring at the two men as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. You didn't know what to say, your dad was angry with you and you couldn't find the part of you who didn't care. The part that spent years telling yourself that you deserved to be happy. To move on from waiting for them to come back, that if they don't care neither do you. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, boxes of pizza were unceremoniously dropped onto the table startling everyone again. 

No one around the table had heard Beau come in, but they could tell by the look on his face as he watched Maverick that he had heard everything. He turned and held his hand out to you, watching as you silently got up and grabbed it. Following him into the billiards room before he pulled the door shut behind him. Hondo rounded on Maverick as the rest watched Beau speak to you through the glass door. “Pete, I have always stood behind you but you are being an ass. This is 100% your fault. I didn't even know you had a kid before I met her! And I've known you her whole life! Get it together before I lose all respect for you!” 

 Hondos' rant was cut off by the door opening and closing again. Every single one of them swore they could feel a shift in the air, like all the air around them was suddenly circling. Cyclone was giving off the energy that earned him his name, but he promised himself he would try to contain the storm. Minimize the destruction, for his wife if nothing else. He wanted to see you happy again, like you were on the beach earlier. He knew how hard it was for you to hold back from those your own age. He also knew you did it as a way to protect yourself and your marriage. 

If no one got close to you, they couldn't use your husband's position against you. They couldn't use it for their own advancement, they couldn't hold it over your head or push for you to talk to him. You had made comments about how you also didn't want any young officers to find any reason to try and flirt with you. You didn't want to give off the wrong impression and hurt Beau, knowing that he was always worried about the age difference. It never occurred to you that your husband was more than confident in your marriage. Never once in the years since you had Emery had he ever worried about you leaving. 

Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was a very confident man, not in the way Jake is, but in his own way. He's the type of man to buy you flowers because he saw them on his way home and thought they were pretty. He planned not only date nights with you, but daddy daughter dates because he always wanted Em to know how she should be treated. Cyclone is a firm believer in his children learning from the best, and when it came to being a man, and being a husband he was the best. Emery would never get a better mother or woman to learn from than you, and he strived every day to be your equal. Even if he would never believe that he was. 

“I sent Y/n to grab some towels and a case of extra swimsuits, I'm sure there's something that would fit you all.. After you eat your welcome to the pool or hot tub if you would like to stay.” Beau tapped his fingers on the table as he stood, looking around at the men and women at his table. His voice was hard as steel and cold as he spoke again, “But let me make this abundantly clear. This is MY home, mine and MY wifes. We have owned this home since before it was built, we brought our daughter home from the hospital to here.. And I will not in anyways tolerate you or anyone disrespecting her, not anywhere but especially not here. This place is meant to be her safe haven and I will throw you out on your ass before I let you even chip away at any of that safety.” 

Jake and Phoenix swore the hairs on their arms rose as he spoke. When he was done everyone but Bradley and Maverick nodded. “The two of you have done nothing but disrespect my wife time and time again. From before I even knew her, now unfortunately I can't go back and fix that, but I can't stop it from happening anymore. SO let's settle a few things, First and foremost” Beau held up one finger, resisting the urge to shove it into Rooster's eye as he spoke. “You, Lieutenant Bradshaw will talk to and treat my wife like she is one of your commanding officers, because she is. No amount of personal knowledge of someone, or time frame of friendship overrides that in the Navy. And son.. If you keep acting like you being her first love means you have some type of claim or hold over her, I will have you packing your bags and flying for American Airlines so fast it will make your head spin.” 

Everyone's eyes widened, this was an even newer side to Beau, one that he had never really needed to show. Phoenix, Hondo, and Javy were impressed. Jake and Bob were about to piss their pants. “You may have been her first love, Son.. But I intend to be her last.. And yes that's from said stupid TV show you were talking about earlier. It's called ‘The Vampire Diaries’ and ‘The Originals’. You may hold all her firsts, but I hold her bests, and her lasts, so I suggest you get over it quickly because I AM her FIRST and ONLY husband. The FIRST and ONLY father of her children, so it would be in your best interest to wrap that thick skull around that knowledge.” Bradley stared down at the table, his anger was still present but he could feel himself cooling off.. He just wanted to leave, try to sort all this out in his head before he talked to you again. 

Beau could see the gears turning in Bradleys head and decided he had given him enough. Now he turned to the only man he could truly say he hated. “You Maverick. Have been dangerous and irresponsible from the day you joined the Navy. Not only in how you fly but in the lifestyle you live. I can completely understand going out of your way to help raise your passed wingman's son. It was commendable that you tried to help him, even if you failed. However it is not commendable that you left your own child behind, what would the Bradshaws say if they knew that you haven't spoken to your daughter in 20 years? That you didn't know she was someone's wife? Someone's mother?”

Maverick didn't want to think about that, he tried not to as he kept listening. “You left and shattered a 17 year old girl, left her to fend for herself. To grow up herself. You didn't even know she joined the Navy but you knew Bradley did. You didn't even know where she was living.. IF she was living. You are the worst kind of parent and every single day Y/n proves that she is better than you in EVERY single way. From how she teaches at Top Gun, to how she raises our daughter. You can not like me all you want but you will respect my wife, your daughter or I will have you dishonorably discharged faster than your boyfriend can read. It will be done and signed before Iceman even has a chance to protest, do not play with me.” 

The two of them stare each other down, it was clear that Cyclone was not going to back down. “You can either grow up.. And try to be in your granddaughter's life or you can leave now. But if you leave right now the door will not open again.. With that being said, you are all welcome to stay or leave. At the moment I don't really care, I'm going to check on my wife and when I get back those who want to leave should probably be gone.”

~

~

Who do think will stay and who will go?

~

What do you want to happen next?

~

@luckyladycreator2 @winterrebel04 @millieb-3199 @xoxabs88xox @archaeologydigit @topgunruinedme @lillyrosenight @blessednotluckyme  @scorpiomindfuck​  @bregarc @person-wholikes-reads @hangmandruigandmav @beaner-life-23 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @smolalien13

@

tigerfan24

  @

ravensmadreads

 @

notryagainlater

 @

scorpiomindfuc

k

[rolesplay]

・┆✦THESE ARE THE REASONS — a modern au odysseus/penelope fanfic.

or: five times people ask penelope "why" regarding odysseus

the first time it was estra.

ody and her had just started dating - and estra had complained. her friend did it almost every time they're together. she'd complained about his looks and his smugness. on him being annoying and irritating.

that specific time though, it was the last day of the second semester, just before they took their exams. or, to be more accurate, it was before estra's exam, because penny had been exempted from all of hers, and estra just wanted to drag her with her.

"why in the world did you have to pick him?" estra groans, as she mindlessly flips through her notes she wasn't even reading.

in her mind, penny was thinking of the boy who'd patiently waited for her answer; who'd actually went up to her infamously strict and overprotective father just to ask her out on one date. he'd asked for one chance, just one. and then she can just be 'done with him' - his words, not hers.

but she didn't say any of that. all she'd said to estra was, "cause he's cute?" and then shrugged.

estra looks at her like she'd lost her mind, about to argue. thankfully, their professor began calling everyone in, and her friend had mouthed later, before bounding in the room.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

the second time was helen.

helen was braiding penny's hair - their morning classes were cancelled and helen invited penny to her place - when the well-known 'campus crush' speaks.

"i heard about your boyfriend's reputation," helen says, carefully enunciating the last word to make sure penny gets the message without actually asking the question.

why stay with such a guy?

penny does, of course. she knows.

he's both a genius and a good looking guy, and he's charming (except to estra, maybe). one of the most desirable, sought out guys in their college - and outside of it.

penny also knows she isn't ody's first.

she's seen people admire him in a way she should be mad. she's felt jealous of them. felt angry, sometimes.

but at the end of the day, who does ody return to? ody might smile and talk to them and make them swoon, but he comes back to her with a kiss on her forehead and the funny stories he'd gotten for the day.

penny smiles. "yeah. quite the guy, huh?"

helen snorts and then shakes her head, returning to braiding penny's hair.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

the third time was makkie, who, around that time, was already heavily pregnant.

she'd visited penny under the guise of trying to learn knitting, because "it's supposed to be motherlike and i'm gonna be a mother soon,” but she knows it’s because makkie’s worried about her.

it only takes about fifteen minutes for makkie to put the needles down and throw her hands up in the air in frustration. "i'm gonna burn it. and then i'm gonna kill hector for putting a child in me."

"i'll help you bury him," penny offers, as she carefully made a new loop. she's making a doll on the image of a dog.

makkie turns quiet, and that was enough to get penny's attention. the pregnant woman was still looking at her.

"why do you do it?" makkie asks quietly. "almost everyone's given up on him."

ody had been missing for ten months, one week and three days.

penny looks at the half-finished doll in her hands. she thinks of argos, out there waiting for his master, no matter what.

she also thinks of the last message she'd received from ody, ever since his disappearance.

If nothing else, know this: I love you.

"i trust," is all penny says in reply.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

the fourth time happens a few months after ody came back. he decides to finally show up to his parents, and he takes her with him for support.

his mother is all airs and flaunting, and turns sharp eyes towards her as they eat on the dinner table. after all, ody came back to her first and didn't even think about telling his family he's alright until only recently. his mother has every right to feel angry.

his father on the other hand, is all caring and welcoming, just happy that his son had finally come back home in one piece.

by all means, penelope should feel scared, but she does not. she doesn't know where this indifference comes from, but at this point, she's waited for him long enough to even let anything stand in their way.

surprisingly, it's his father that looks at her with curiosity. it's his father who asks her why she'd allowed a boy like ody to "corrupt her."

she laughs. and replies with a, "maybe it's me who's corrupting him."

his father is taken aback, and ody tries to compose himself. but his mother looks at her with a twinkle in her eyes.

anticlea looks at her son and nods. "i like her."

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

the fifth and final time was ody himself, the day of their wedding.

he disappears right before the ceremony starts. she hears the commotion outside of her room: people are looking for him and he's nowhere to be found.

she escapes the venue, and, still dressed up in her bridal gown, goes to the nearest fast food restaurant and finds him there.

she wonders if she should whack him on the head. but people are openly gawking and pointing and staring, so she decides against it. instead, she sits down across him.

she waits a bit for a few seconds before he finally registers her. his mouth goes slack.

he stumbles over his words, unsure of what to say, and settles on: "it was a mistake."

what she'd felt might've showed up on her face because he backtracks quickly. "no, no! not that! not you! i'll marry you. anytime. anywhere. always. i love you," he pauses. he never really said it that much after his return. "uh, i mean- meant those people. i can't..." he fidgets. "we shouldn't have had that big wedding."

she stares, and then she laughs so hard, as if someone had just told her the funniest joke in the world. she's sure someone's recording this by now.

"you done now?" he asks, looking a bit irate over the fact that penny had just laughed at him.

"i'm sorry, i just... never thought that i'd see the day where you're the nervous one. besides, that wedding is our parents' wishes. but if you want..." smiling, she takes his hand. "we can always just elope."

it's his turn to stare. "you? elope?"

"what? think i can't do it?"

"but why?"

at first she thinks the question is different, like 'why elope,' or something, but quickly realizes it's why go so far for me?

she looks at him, takes all of him in. he's been regularly cutting his hair ever since his return. there's a faded scar running down atop on his left brow. he looks old and really, really young, both at the same time.

she remembers a boy arguing with her about philosophy, a boy holding her hand unsurely, a boy helping her in her newest knitted project. she remembers a boy helping her up, hugging her close, kissing her lips.

she looks at him, at this lovely, infuriating man.

penelope smiles. "because i love you too."

➜ 「 ✦ BONUS ✦ 」

anticlea glares at her, and this time, penelope cares. this woman was, after all, her mother-in-law now.

her own father is giving the newlyweds an earful. she could see helen out the window of the room, mouthing, 'tell us later.'

ody and her were already married, but everything about the situation feels like they're both juvenile delinquents being scolded by their parents.

(they did just leave their formal wedding only to have athena - ody’s sort-of boss - officiate another wedding.)

icarius keeps talking about "shame" and "disgrace," and kept glaring at ody. penny can see laertes, ody’s dad, watching everything worriedly in front of him, and her own mum looking at them impassively.

she sighs and her husband - husband, still makes her feel giddy that he's her husband now - notices and takes her hand. he passes a finger on the ring she now wears, and she looks at him. by the expression on his face, it seems like she's not the only one feeling happy.

penny opens her mouth to speak, but ody beats her to it.

"it was me. asked her to marry me-"

at the admission, icarius went red in the face, and stopped his ongoing tirade in favour of glaring at ody.

penny turns to ody in an offended sort of way. "don't lie! i offered the elopement, mister. i asked you to run away with me."

the whole room turns to her, and she feels the weight of it. she'd be scared, except she still feels the lingering feelings of getting married, and ody's hand is on hers. she can also see her mum trying to not laugh.

"aye? i think that was my idea though -"

"oh, really? i think i'd have to remind you then -"

icarius gets redder and redder every passing second, and penny wonders when her father'd combust.

"i think," laertes interrupts, looking at them, "that we should allow the newlyweds a honeymoon first."

penny's mum laughs, and ushers an irate icarius out of the room, but not without leaving a hug and a kiss for her daughter.

"i wasn't around to watch you grow up, but i'm glad, penelope. i'm so, so glad. and." she looks at ody. "do excuse this man." she gestures at icarius, who's still trying to murder ody with a petulant glare.

laertes joyfully gives them a hug, with a whisper of, "be happy, you two."

it's anticlea who stays in the room last, and then she smiles. ody visibly relaxes. his mum looks at him. "you aren't forgiven yet," she says sharply, and ody droops down. she continues, "but you will be, if you give me a grandchild."

ody whispers a scandalized "mom!" and penny - who'd joked a lot about such - found herself turning red. it's one thing to be joking about it yourself, it's another when it's the in-law.

anticlea laughs in return, and leaves the newlyweds like that.

[artiststarme]

Win Some, Lose Some

Based on a prompt from @mysticcrownshipper. Thank you and I hope it meets your expectations! Please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Steve was pretty sure he was unlovable. It was the only reason that made sense as to why everyone always treated him like this. What about him made people feel the need to put him down in every conversation or ignore him completely? Neglect wasn’t a new feeling to Steve. No, he was all too used to being uncared for and left alone. He had been since his parents started leaving him for weeks at a time to go on business trips and vacations when he was nine. Neglect wasn’t new to him nor was the underappreciation and ignorance that was constantly present in the Party. Every person he talked to made him feel like an inconvenience and he was sick of it.

Robin was supposed to be his best friend, his platonic soulmate with a capital P, his ride or die. So why was she belittling him and downplaying his feelings every chance she could? Any time Steve wanted to vent about Eddie or talk about his feelings, she would shut it down. She’d tell him that Eddie was just new to relationships and that his feelings were misplaced. She made him feel the worst out of everyone in the Party because she was the one he expected to be on his side the most. Steve ignored it mostly because what else could he do? Call her on it and risk losing her completely? No, it was best to push down his ‘misplaced feelings’ and pretend to laugh when she put him down. It’s not like he didn’t have the practice.

The kids were just as awful as they always were, completely taking him for granted. They expected Steve to give up everything without giving anything back. He has a date with Eddie that night? They want him to drop it and give them a ride to the pool. He has a headache and doesn’t feel like doing anything? Who cares, they need him to watch their DnD campaign. Oh, he doesn’t have enough money for groceries that week? He has to have enough to give them some for the arcade though, right?

Eddie certainly wasn’t helping either. He was constantly neglecting their relationship and placing it as his lowest priority. Steve would go out of his way to make plans with him only for him to cancel last minute or neglect to show at all. He’d go without calling Steve for days, blow him off when he did something nice for him, and poke fun at Steve’s expense to make the others laugh. It was to the point where it wasn’t making just Steve uncomfortable but the Corroded Coffin boys as well. 

He thought he was hiding his hurt feelings pretty well but when Eddie said a comment that hit a little too close to home for him, Steve ducked out of his own dining room to smoke a cigarette he definitely didn’t need. When he heard his sliding door inch open, he hoped that it would be Eddie coming to apologize but it turned out to be a worried Jeff instead. 

“Hey man, you alright?” He asked him, his eyes glimmering in concern. 

“Yeah, man,” Steve nodded before taking a long drag. “It’s fine, he does that all the time. It’s cool.”

Jeff didn’t look convinced and narrowed his eyes at the half-burnt cigarette. “It’s not cool at all. Why are you smoking, I thought you quit?”

Steve sighed, “yeah well, I couldn’t kick it completely. It makes a good excuse for when I need a break. Plus, Wayne is a really bad role model and keeps buying an extra pack for me when he gets his. I don’t have the heart to tell him I’m thinking of quitting, he’d be crushed.”

“I get it.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them when Jeff spoke again. “Hey, you want to hang out at band practice with the guys and I on Monday? Eddie won’t be there but you could just hang with us.”

“You want to hang out with me without Eddie? You guys don’t even like me.” Steve told him deadpan. 

“What? Yes we do! We think you’re cool and if you ever want to swing by, we’d love to have you. We need an unbiased judge for our music.”

Steve hummed, “okay, what time on Monday?”

“Um, I think eleven. AM, not PM. Just come and hang out with us in Gareth’s garage. His mom is making tuna salad for us,” Jeff added. 

“Well how could I ever resist tuna salad?” Steve laughed, it felt like a long time since he’s done that. 

Jeff pointed at him, “that’s what I’m saying! And ditch the cigarettes, you won’t need a break with us. We won’t treat you like that.”

Steve nodded as Jeff went back inside. It was nice to be invited somewhere without an ulterior motive. Steve found himself looking forward to Monday so he could just relax without having to fake a part. He was excited and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way.

~*~*~*~

Word must have spread after that because suddenly, everyone outside of the main Party members wanted to hang out. The Corroded Coffin boys were teaching him how to play guitar and making him sing choruses alongside Jeff. Nancy was inviting Steve over for girl’s night to talk shit about Eddie and Robin. Murray was luring Steve to his bunker with promises of authentic Russian vodka and “sticking it to the man”, Steve didn’t accept that offer but he did appreciate it. Even Hopper and Joyce were inviting him out for milkshakes and basketball practice. 

Steve was having the most fun though with Phil and his new boyfriend Dio. Dio was a goth, twenty something with a sarcastic personality and a stupid sense of humor that complemented Phil’s. Just looking at him, Steve could tell that he and Phil shared a type (a fact often laughed at by Dio). It seemed they both went for alternative guys with shitty tastes in music. When Phil had first introduced the two, they had both been wary of one another; Steve because the guy looked like the type to stab his enemies and Dio because this preppy jock could out him and ruin his life. They soon found common ground however over their love of horror movies and Queen music. Now, Steve saw Dio as another older brother of sorts and couldn’t picture Phil with anyone else. 

 They invited him over biweekly for dinner and movie nights with horror films that left Steve itching with anxiety. But he was finally having fun. With all of the unexpected invites, he didn’t have any time to spend with the Party. Soon, he found out that that was intentional.  

He made a comment to Phil and Dio at one of their dinners that he hadn’t seen any of the Party in a while and that it almost seemed like he was avoiding them to hang out with other people. They both just looked at him blankly and Phil told him deadpan, “Well, duh. We made a plan to keep them away from you, we’re not going to make it easy on them. Now eat your green beans before they go cold.”

Steve just blinked at him. “What do you mean you made a plan? I’m confused.”

Dio gave Phil the side-eye and smiled a strained smile at Steve. “Alright look, we heard from your band friend that your other friends were being dumbasses and decided that they needed a time out. But you didn’t deserve to suffer so we made plans with you to keep you busy and to keep them away. Got it?”

No, Steve did not ‘get it’. 

“Why would you do that? That’s just how they are.”

Phil whipped his head up and almost knocked over his glass of chocolate milk in his haste to point a finger at Steve. “Excuse me?! They’ve been this way the whole time? Then why the hell are you friends with them?”

Steve blinked. “Because they want to be friends with me. It’s not like many people want to.”

Both Phil and Dio stared at him in sadness. They clearly didn’t see that coming. They looked at each other, back at Steve, then back at each other before Dio spoke. 

“We have to step it up then and really make them suffer. Here’s what we’re going to do, we’re going to make them jealous. If they haven’t realized that we’re trying to steal you already, they will soon enough. I’ll make the calls and we can really escalate things.”

“What the hell, um no. Let’s not do that? I just- what?” Steve stammered. 

“No, just trust me. We can make them really jealous with this plan. I’ve done it before, I’m a pro at getting revenge,” Dio smirked at him. 

Steve just stared at him and Phil nodded in agreement. 

“That’s true,” he said through a mouthful of green beans. “He’s gay and vengeful, that’s the worst kind. But remember, I’m an officer of the law so you have to keep it legal this time.”

“This time?!”

~*~*~*~

Dio wasn’t kidding about his revenge plan. He started coming around to Family Video on his lunch breaks in an attempt to confuse Eddie. He had the Corroded Coffin boys inviting Steve over almost daily and even Uncle Wayne taking him out for coffee and donuts. It was all Steve had ever wanted and deep down, he was a little sad that it had to be an act. 

Three weeks in though, the Party started to notice and it was all worth it. The kids came in to glare at the random goth weirdo that was monopolizing his time at work and complained to each other that their calls to the Harrington house were going unanswered. 

Robin was stuck working with Keith when Steve switched his shifts and her attempts to brag about Vickie went unanswered on the walkie. She couldn’t help but wonder where her best friend had gone or what had caused his absence. 

Eddie kept seeing Steve leave Gareth’s garage right as he got there and whenever he asked the guys, he got a disinterested, “yeah, we’re teaching him how to play the guitar. He was just stopping by.”

He reached a breaking point when he walked into Family Video to see a goth standing shoulder to shoulder with Steve in the horror section. Steve was smiling and nodding along to whatever the guy was saying and Eddie had had enough. 

“Hey! Who are you? Why are you standing so close to him huh? He’s taken!”

Steve just looked at him unimpressed. “Oh, are we still dating? I wasn’t sure considering you haven’t talked to me in three weeks.”

“What, three weeks? It hasn’t been that long. Even still, you’re going to go after a goth? What the fuck, Steve?” Eddie shook his head at him like Steve was in the wrong. 

“This is my brother’s boyfriend, Dio. We’re trying to pick out a movie that’s going to scare Phil. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh, um. Can we talk?” Eddie murmured, chagrined. 

“No, I don’t think we should. There’s literally nothing you could say to make me forgive any of you. You, Robin, and the kids have ignored me for weeks and I didn’t even do anything wrong. And now you’re jealous because I’m talking to a guy that’s not you? No.”

Eddie’s face dropped. “Are you, are you breaking up with me?”

Steve’s mouth twisted, this hadn’t been part of the original plan but it did feel right. “Yeah, I am.”

“Um, okay. I’m gonna, I'm gonna go,” Eddie whispered before darting out of the store. 

Steve sadly watched him leave as Dio just looked between him and the door. “Well goddamn, you broke up with him? The whole plan was for everyone to make him jealous so he treated you better. I didn’t know that you wanted to dump him.”

“I didn’t either. But these past few weeks have taught me that the Party really aren’t great friends to have. And Eddie isn’t really a good boyfriend. I don’t want to go back to how it was,” Steve murmured. His chest felt heavy with loss and he could feel a tension headache creeping in. 

“Hey, look at me,” Dio met his eyes and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You have to do what’s right for you and if that means cutting ties with toxic people, that’s what you have to do. There’s no shame in that.”

Steve nodded at him and broke away from his hold to get back to work. It was going to take some adjusting to losing the Party but it was the best thing for now. He’d been put down and mistreated too much by them to let them so easily off the hook once again. It was about time he put himself first, even if it meant losing the friends he’d thought he’d never lose.

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[noodyl-blasstal]

King of the (bouncy) Castle

It's @taznovembercelebration day 17 and today I drew the prompt "soft"

Read below or on Ao3 if you prefer. Missed yesterday's? Find it here.

-

“Ko!” Lup yells from the hall.

“What?” He screams from his bedroom, because he’s still deciding on what to wear and if it’s that urgent she can come in.

“Do you know anyone else?”

“In general? Or?”

“Don’t be a dick. Do you know anyone who can come today?”

“Why?”

“Magnus had to drop out.”

“We can win without him.”

“A team is four people.”

“Ask Dav.”

“He’s racing today”

“Lucretia?”

“She just laughed until I hung up. It was a solid 3 minutes.”

“Merle?”

“I’m going to need you to work from the assumption that I have remembered our joint friends with whom we spend all our time”

“But seriously, Merle.”

“Taako, I have tried everyone we jointly know. He said he was going to be busy in the greenhouse, and then he said some other things. Would you like me to tell you what those other things are? Because I can. I can tell you exactly what he had planned for the onions because he told me because I had him on speaker phone and I got trapped in my shirt and he said a lot of words before I could hang up. They’re burned into my brain forever and cha’girl is happy to share that burden.”

“No! Lulu, don’t! I’ll cast silence.”

“I’ll counterspell it. Now start thinking of people.”

“Angus?”

“I also know Angus, and he’s a literal child.”

“He’s, what, 6 now?”

“He’s eleven, Taako, you baked him a cake in the shape of the number for his birthday two weeks ago.” There’s no need for Lup to slander him like this.

“Eleven! That’s basically an adult for humans, right?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to stop doing special magic boy lessons with him because he’s all grown up now?” Lup goes for the jugular. He doesn’t have to stand for this cruelty, for the implication that he actually likes spending time with the baby.

“What aboutttt… erm…” Taako changes the topic seamlessly and casts his mind furiously about for a name, any name, of a person Lup wouldn’t have already called. There’s one that popped up as soon as Lup asked and he’s trying his best to see round it but it keeps sidling into his eye line. He can’t though. It’d be a disaster. “Errrrr… Brian.”

“No. Absolutely anyone else.”

“What’s wrong with Brian?”

“He’s in a cult!”

“But apart from the cult stuff he’s lovely.”

“Taako! Do you want to win or not?”

Fine. Fine! Taako does very much want to win, especially after Lydia tripped him last year.

“Kravitz.” He says it fast, like he’s ripping off a plaster. Maybe Lup won’t put two and two together.

“The guy from work?”

“No?”

“Oh, you know another Kravitz, do you?”

“Yes?”

“Is any of that supposed to have convinced me?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

“So… different Kravitz? How do you know Kravitz-Who’s-Not-From-Work? Why do you have a way of getting in touch with him?” Lup’s going to cling to this an unnecessary amount.

“Ooooh are we talking about Kravitz?” Barry, fucking Barry, asks. Wandering his ass right into their private conversation.

“This is a private conversation, Barold.” Yells Taako through the door of his room into the hall of their too-small shared apartment.

“Would you like me to put my noise cancelling headphones on?” Barry asks, earnestly, like he’d actually fucking do it if Taako said yes.

“Absolutely not, Barry, You live in this house and you have every right to be in this hallway.” Lup snaps. She’s still mad about last time Taako forgot to tell Barry he could take the headphones off. In his defence, he made him a cake about it. A jake, in fact, with edible press studs. Barry loved it! Plus, he was listening to one of his lectures, he was fine, happy as a clam!

“Fine.” Taako threw up his hands, no one could see him, but it felt important to do it anyway, you know, for the drama. He couldn’t argue with this, he didn’t have a choice, he may as well give in and call Kravitz, they’ve both worked together to twist his arm. “You’re making me do this though. It’s not because I want to. I’ve been compelled.”

“What?” Says Barry, perplexed. “I thought we were just talking about your crush.”

“His what?” Says Lup.

Taako springs forward and manages to flick the lock across the second before Lup tries the handle.

“You’re in love with death?” She tries the handle a few more times, as if it’ll jiggle the lock free.

“A man isn’t his job, Lup.” Taako shouts back. Denying everything.

“That wasn’t a no!”

“I have to ring him, because you’re making me. Or do you not want to win Bounce Off 2: Bounce in the City?”

There’s grumbling from the other side of the door followed by a muttered “c’mon Barold,” fakeout. Taako’s wise to it though, so he isn’t shocked by her ‘one last try’ of the door handle, or the second attempt that follows after she does fake footsteps away from the door.

“Fine! He’d better be down though and good.”

“He’s tall.” Says Barry, conversationally. He’d better not plan on telling Lup anything else.

“Good. We can use height.Is he strong?” Lup asks.

Kravitz is strong, Taako knows that for normal reasons, reasons like he can carry a lot of pastries when he orders them; and that time he helped Taako move the big table when someone spilled and he had to clean under it. Not reasons like all the time he spends staring at Kravitz’s forearms, and his thighs, and his everything else. Because he doesn’t do that. Taako would never.

“Fine. Don’t answer me.” Lup actually leaves this time, Taako pretends he can’t hear Barry telling her about Kravitz and his newfound love of coffee and baked goods.

Taako [10:23] Yo stud got a minute to chat?

It was only polite to text first, he doesn’t want to jumpscare Kravitz with a phone call, he isn’t a sadist. The three dots flashed up immediately. Thank fuck he’s awake at the crack of dawn.

Bones [10:24] Dear Taako, Of course, I’ve always got time for you. All best, Kravitz.

Taako has been trying hard not to find his ridiculous dork texts endearing. He’s failing. Badly. He ignores the squooshy feeling it gives him and hits the call button instead.

“Hello Taako, it’s lovely to hear from you!” Says Kravitz like he actually means it.

“Hey Krav, quiiiiiick q for ya. What’re you doing this morning?”

“I’m just practising.” Of course he is. Why wouldn’t Kravitz be sat straddling his giant instrument right now? Taako’s mature though, he won’t make a joke about it.

“Can’t keep your hands off your instrument, shameful!” Fuck.

“Well, someone has to keep it in tune.”

Gods, he wasn’t supposed to play along. Why did he keep flirting back? Was this whole thing actually plausible?

“Wanna spend some time with Taako instead?”

“I’d be very interested in that.” Kravitz says, buttery and glorious.

“How do you feel about inflatables?”

There’s a long pause.

“It’s not a sex thing.” Taako says, to make it less weird.

“I’m not sure that makes what you said less weird, Taako.”

“You know, like bouncy castles.”

“Okay.” Kravitz doesn’t sound particularly convinced.

“And my sister will be there.”

There’s another pause. “...And Barry?”

“Obviously.”

“Uh huh.”

Fuck, Taako’s losing him, and it’s suddenly incredibly important that Kravitz not only agree to this, but is also enthusiastic about it. “It’s a competition.” Says Taako.

“Oh?” Of course that piqued his interest, Kravitz loves competition. He tries to help harder than any other customer, tip better than anyone else, and he races people in the street.

“We lost last year, but we’ve been in training.”

“You’ve been in bouncy castle training?”

“Obstacle course training… and also trampolines.”

“Is that what the weird squeaking is when we’re on the phone sometimes?”

“What?”

“You know, the calls where you’re all breathy and there’s the squeaking noise.”

Taako didn’t realise Kravitz had picked up on that. “You didn’t think…?”

“Well now I know it’s not a sex thing.”

“You thought it was a sex thing and you stayed on the phone?”

“I don’t judge.”

“You didn’t wanna ask Taako what he was up to?”

“I know you’re a private person.”

“Not if you think Taako’s doing sex things on the phone without your consent. In fact, that’s the least private a person can be.”

“You make a compelling point.”

Taako doesn’t even begin to know what to do with that. “So… bouncing?”

“Where is it?”

“We can pick you up.”

“All three of you?”

“Barry said he’s sorry and he’ll stop asking about the ‘secret sauce.’”

“I just really don’t think it’s a respectful way to talk about embalming fluid.”

Taako thinks it’s a great way to refer to embalming fluid, but he also wants Kravitz to be happy. “He double pinky promised.”

“Oh, well if he double pinky promised.”

“Great! Pick you up in 20, wear something snazzy.”

Taako hangs up the phone before Kravitz can object or ask anything else. He has limited time and an outfit to re-plan.

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

Shopping with Dom Dom (part 26)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

It's been a week since you said yes to Rhea's proposal. Since then you were non-stop thinking about your marriage.

You bought lots magazines for inspiration and spent all day flipping throug them and looking up different things on the internet.

But today you didn't have time for that since Dom took you out to look for the perfect wedding dress. You didn't expect it but Dominik had a surprisingly good taste in fashion, especially when it came to dresses. He just somehow always found exactly what you were looking for.

You get out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel before walking over into your bedroom to pick your outfit for today.

"Hey baby" Rhea smiles at you. She was sitting on the bed, reading. "Why are you still wearing a towel everytime you come out of the shower, I think it's pretty unnecessary by now" she chuckles.

You stick your tongue out at her, making her grin even more and shake her head. "What are you still doing here anyway? I thought you had an appointment today?" you ask her.

"Yeah but it got canceled last minute so I'm kind of killing time now by reading until you're back" she shrugs. "Oh, okay" you say and turn your back at her to change.

"Why aren't you coming with us? You don't have a dress yet too, do you?" you suggest. "Na sorry, first of all should the groom only see the bride in her dress at the wedding and second of all I don't plan on wearing one" she winks at you.

"So you're attending naked?" you joke. "Ugh idiot, of course not" she laughs and gets up trying to tickle you. "ah no, hey" you laugh out and run away, closely followed by her.

She eventually catches you and pick you up from behind. "hah, got you" she shouts in victory before letting you down again.

You turn around to look at her, both of you still smiling and breathing a little heavy. "Have fun today okay? And don't you two walk outta that store without the perfect dress!" she dares you.

The doorbell rings, letting you know Dominik is waiting. You kiss her goodbye and make your way out. You greet Dom who waves at Rhea who followed you to the door.

"take care of her" she grins and he gives her a thumb up before getting into the car next to you and starting the engine.

It's almost a 30 minute drive, but it doesn't even feel that long as you're listening to good music and singing along to it.

You enter the store and are greeted by a woman, whose dark hair is already streaked with gray. "Hello hello, how can I help you" she says. "Hi, we're looking for the perfect wedding dress for this young lady here" Dominik smirks at you.

"Wonderfull, but you are aware that the groom is not supposed to see the bride until the actual wedding ceremony?" the woman asks with a raised brow.

"Oh, no no, he's not my fiancé, he's just a friend" you immediately correct her. "Oh, I'm sorry, well then follow me" she leads you to one of the store windows and takes out some magazines.

"Do you already have an idea of what you might like?" the lady wants to know. "Hmm.. Not really, what about we take a look again together Dom Dom?" you turn to him.

He nods and the saleswoman hands you the catalogues. You sit down on two stools next to a little coffee table and begin to flip through the pages, pointing out a dress every now and then.

"Ouh what about this one, its got a slightly purple and black touch to it. Reminds me of the judgement day colors you know?" Dom hands you his magazin. You give a positive hum and scan the store for the woman from earlier.

"Oh, hi, there you are, do you have this dress here by any chance?" you ask as soon as you found her. "Oh, yeah, let me get it for you" she says and walks away.

You give Dom, who is still sitting in the corner looking at more dresses and marking the ones he likes, a thumbs up and he smiles.

The woman returns with he exact dress and you go to try it on..

---------------------------------------------------

Part 26, decided to leave out the Tw thingy now because its unnecessary ._.

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000 @nox-fire

[thebigqueer]

"Heartaches & Movie Scenes" - Valgrace

Summary: jason's still mourning his last break up. that is, until he meets leo at the club, who changes the course of the next few hours for the better. Notes: check the AO3 notes for additional info!! there's a playlist there if you want to listen to it while reading! TWs: drinking & alcohol, and nausea & vomiting (later on in the chapters) Word Count: 16,962

Read on AO3

Preview:

“Jason. Come on.” A hand ruffles his hair, and he immediately sits straighter, trying to swat it away. He comes up meeting Thalia’s eyes, which swell with pity under the bright lights bouncing around the club. “Why aren’t you out on the floor having fun?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t even my idea to come. For some reason you and Percy and Nico all ganged up on me.” 

“Sure,” Thalia says, shrugging, “but you didn’t protest, so right now you’re just being a drama queen.” 

Jason smiles, but his heart isn’t in it. He knows a secret part of him was actually excited to come tonight — it’s the first time he’s gone out in a while since the break up. He thought he was ready to loosen out a bit, to at least try to forget the hollow buzzing in his chest. But as soon as Percy and Nico pulled up to his dorm to get ready, as soon as he started spreading glitter over his eyes, a wave of exhaustion drenched over him and all of a sudden he just wanted to go back to rotting in his bed. 

Nico and Percy looked at him with pity as they were leaving his dorm, but they didn’t mention anything. Maybe they figured it was better off — at least he was coming out at all, so that had to be worth something. And seeing that pity made it really difficult for Jason to even cancel out again, so he just stumbled on behind them, wishing he could feel their excitement. 

“How about this.” Thalia starts clinking around behind the bar, then pulls out a glass and starts pouring. “On the house.” 

“I thought you said your boss didn’t let you give people discounts.” 

“She did, but I’m willing to risk my job for you, Jason. This better show you how much I want you to have fun tonight.” 

This finally brings a laugh out of Jason, and he takes the glass from her. As he sips on it, he turns around and is almost surprised to find the club even thicker than it was just an hour ago. He shouldn’t be, considering it’s probably already almost midnight, but it makes him realize just how long he’s been here. 

As if reading his thoughts, Thalia sighs and checks the watch on her wrist. “You better buckle up. It’s about to get a lot busier soon.” 

Jason squints around, suddenly aware of the fact it’s too quiet around him. “Where did Thing One and Thing Two go?”

Thalia rolls her eyes and starts wiping down the counter around them. “Do I look like I have the time to keep track of Percy and Nico?”

But just as soon as she says that, Percy jumps onto the stool to the right of Jason, wobbling a bit as he tries to find his balance on it. He throws an arm around Jason and grins, but all Jason can see is that his eyeliner is already smudged. So much for all the effort Jason did on him barely an hour ago. 

“Guess what, dude.” Percy gestures to the crowd starting to gather around the dance floor. “There are so many hot people out on that dance floor, waiting for someone to dance with.” 

“Okay.” Jason shoves Percy’s arm off him. “What am I supposed to do about that? Go dance with them.” 

“I can’t,” Percy says, rolling his eyes. “I have a girlfriend that I like very much. But you, on the other hand, are sitting here and wasting your time.”

“Where did you guys even go?” Jason raises an eyebrow. “I literally looked away for a minute.” 

“Nico’s guy showed up.” Percy snorts. “He wanted emotional support to talk to him. Some friend, though — as soon as he made introductions, they left me immediately. Didn’t even acknowledge my existence.” 

“Good on him,” chimes Thalia. 

Percy narrows his eyes but ignores her. He ruffles Jason’s hair, and Jason really wishes people would stop doing that — even though he feels like trash, he would much prefer not to look like it, too. “Come on, man. Let’s go have fun.”

“I am.” Jason gestures to his drink. “I got this for free.” 

Percy looks Jason up and down. “Oh, yeah. You look like the life of the party.” 

Jason smiles softly, and that seems to ease Percy, because he relaxes a bit in his seat. “Really, man. I’ll get up when I’m ready.” 

Percy looks wary, but then he sighs. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and the sarcasm in his eyes melts into a sort of sadness that makes Jason’s stomach harden with dread. “I’m not trying to force you to do anything you don’t want to, Jason. I just really hate seeing you down. Promise me you’ll at least try to have fun tonight?” 

It’s not really like Jason’s in a position to say, “Absolutely not.” Percy’s really trying right now, even in his semi-drunk state, which is basically the same level as begging on his knees. And, honestly, it touches Jason that he cares so much about him being happy. It’s not really like Jason was completely destroyed by the break-up, and he knows his friends know that, too, but the fact that they want to include him in things even if he’s not as bad as he could be is really sweet. 

Jason offers a watery smile. “I promise.” 

“Do you want to dance with me , at least?” Percy asks, his eyes lightening up.

“I’m not a dancer. You know that.” 

“Well, neither am I, but you don’t see me turning down a good time.” Percy squeezes Jason’s shoulder. “But I’m just putting the invitation out there. We can make a fool of ourselves on the dance floor together.”

Jason laughs. “Thanks, Percy. Maybe later, though.” Then he tries on a smirk. “Besides, you have a dance partner now. Is Annabeth here?”

This seems to completely wipe Percy of any concern. He sits up taller and grins so cheesily Jason can’t help but to feel a little jealous. “Yeah! I think she’s somewhere in the crowd — I told her I was going to bring you.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “You knoooow, she brought a lot of cute friends that are totally single and ready to mingle.” 

“Thanks,” Jason says, putting on an exasperated smile, “but you have fun. I’ll join you soon. Say hi to Annabeth for me.” He smirks. “And her cute friends.” 

Percy grins. “Okay, will do. I’m warning you, though — next time I come around, I’m dragging you over by your feet if I have to.” 

Then he bounces away into the ocean of bodies on the floor, and Jason watches after him, trying to rein back his guilt. Percy doesn’t get far, though — it only takes a few feet before he’s stopped by a girl with brown skin and long box braids. Annabeth.

Jason can’t mistake the light in her eyes as she looks up at him — wholly pure admiration, the kind of floatiness associated with new relationships. Like the entire world is theirs, even when they're around a bunch of sweaty bodies. Then there’s the soft touches, as Annabeth puts her hand on Percy’s bicep and he lays one on her hip, fingers filled with a hungry hesitance, like there’s so many ways they want these touches to go and unsure about which direction to take. Annabeth leans in to whisper something in Percy’s ear, and Percy laughs, and then they’re kissing, and Jason has to turn away. 

He is happy for Percy. When he and Annabeth first got together, only three months ago, he liked to joke that if it weren’t for himself and Piper, they’d never be together. But he knows that’s not true — even though they haven’t been together long, Jason gets the sense they’re one of those couples destined to find each other in every universe. And Jason isn’t necessarily one to really believe in all that, but Percy and Annabeth make him almost convinced in it.

But they’re also a reminder of what Jason doesn’t have anymore. 

Now that he’s thinking about her, Jason wonders, briefly, if Piper might be here, too. But he tries to throw the thought away as soon as it comes, because he’s not here to worry about her. He’s here for himself. 

Jason forces his eyes back to Thalia, if only to try to force himself to not look for her in the crowd. Thalia’s watching him warily, but she quickly busies herself with cleaning a glass when she realizes Jason’s watching her. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “I’m serious, though. I’ll join Percy in a bit. I just need to get drunker first.” 

Thalia raises her eyebrows. “Whatever you say, Sparky.” 

He’s about to respond with something probably equally as biting, but then somebody stumbles to the bar a few stools down — a girl with bronze skin and long, silky hair that trails down her back. She waves a hand as she calls, “Hey, Thalia.” 

Thalia’s mouth melts into a smile and she calls back, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite patron.” Then she pats Jason’s hand and says, “Be right back.” 

At first Jason thinks she’s just another customer, but the closer Jason looks at the girl’s smile — easy, flirtatious, inviting — and he sees the way Thalia leans her body closer to talk to her, he gets the sense she’s more than just a patron. So he looks away. 

But now he’s painfully aware of the fact he’s actually alone. Nico’s outside with Will Solace, Percy’s making out with his girlfriend, and Thalia’s flirting it up with Reyna of the Gym that she’s always talking about.

Naturally. When he’s decided he’s not looking for a relationship, all his friends are getting into them. What a way to feel lonelier than ever. 

Suddenly the buzz from the alcohol doesn’t feel like a buzz anymore, just another heavy humming of his emotions, and he goes back to sitting glumly and swirling the ice in his drink. He doesn’t even know if he wants to finish it. 

It isn’t long before another patron comes to the bar. A boy with curly brown hair stands next to the seat Percy was in just a few moments ago and leans over expectantly. Jason can really only see the boy’s profile — warm brown skin, long lashes that flutter against the dim lights, a crookedness to his lips like he’s constantly on the verge of grinning — but that’s all he needs to get his heart racing.

The boy taps the counter gently, and Thalia looks up, her face slack as if she’s just woken up. “Hi,” he says, and Jason has to stop himself from physically cringing; he probably doesn’t know how to read the room. That, or he’s too tipsy to notice. “Could I please get a drink?”

Jason knows Thalia’s fighting hard to keep her voice under control as she asks him what he wants, and then gets to work. Jason would feel a sort of secondhand embarrassment for the guy — not because he deserves it, but because he knows his sister and how much she must be fighting to say something snarky back to him — but his gorgeousness is so distracting. The boy takes a precarious seat on the stool, with one leg on the ground and the other bouncing against the step of his seat, like he’s ready to hop out of there as soon as possible, then pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. 

Jason’s utterly entranced. Something about his existence is just so compelling — the way he holds himself, so nonchalant, even at a high-energy club, as if he’s just laying around on his couch. Like life is the easiest test he could ever take. Jason wishes he could say the same.

“I can feel you staring, pretty boy.”

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