#Everything can't happen in the spring and summer! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darlingshane · 5 months

Text

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 1

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Implied/referenced drug addiction, Alcohol mention, Divorce, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy. Undisclosed age gap (in my mind Michael is late 30s and OC is late 20s, but it's really up to your interpretation).

Word Count: 6.8k // 4 chapters // AO3 link.

A/N: This is set in the year of the Fishes episode on season 2. It starts in summer and slowly builds up to that Christmas.

— This was an anon request that I got a few months ago, I hope you're still around. I tried to fit all the ideas you sent as best I could. There's a bit of info dump on the first chapter, but I hope it isn't too off-putting.

Chapter 1: Best thing since sliced bread

Seconds stretch into minutes, minutes elongate into long hours on slow days like this at The Beef. Especially in summer when the air conditioner stops working for the second time in the middle of August. Any living soul that crosses that door must have a dying wish or be the devil themselves to adventure themselves to what has become Michael's personal hell.

It's been a testing year, and there's so much he can do to fix this place right now. While he waits for Fak to come check the damn AC unit, Michael tends the front while Ebra takes his lunch break.

Turning the paper's pages on the counter, he comes across an article about the extensive fires eating different parts of the country. A wretched thought crosses his mind as he reads – maybe it'd be better to burn this place to the ground and start over. He entertains the idea for a second until the door swings open, inviting more heat into the boiling pot.

He lifts his eyes from the words to find a familiar face approaching the counter. It's not Fak, but a much better vision of someone he used to know.

“Mayhem Maya.”

“Magic Mikey.”

That former thought of burning down this place disappears somewhere in the midst of that beautiful aura that saunters with her big brown eyes, long raven hair, nervous smile, and firm steps.

“It's been a while, Maybird.” Almost ten years since she set foot in this establishment. “What brings you to this hole in the wall?”

“Came to collect that meatball sub you promised at uncle Teddy's funeral, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

Ever since she moved to a different state, he only had seen her a handful of times when she came back for the holidays. Last time he saw her was at the beginning of spring, when her uncle, Ted Silva, passed away.

“I also had an interview at the new vet clinic on the next block.” She places her cross-body bag on an empty stool while she perches her ass on the one next to it.

“How's that going? Did you get tired of California already?”

“No, I love California. But I needed a change of scenery. It's been rough after… you know…” the divorce. She wasn't married for long, but she still can't bring herself to say the word.

“I’ve heard some of it.” He’s pretty much aware of how everything went down. Well, he’s got grapevine’s juicy version of the story, but he never heard her side directly.

Though Michael and Maya know each other as if they were related, they were never close confidants. She always thought he was the coolest guy in Chicago. And he always thought fondly of her, given their families association, and Maya’s close friendship with his brother.

Michael places an order for her sandwich and grabs a soda for her, while she explains she has two more job interviews later.

“Does your mother know you're back?” He folds the paper and props his elbows on the counter.

“She probably does.”

“Still not talking, huh?”

“It's not my fault she made me the black sheep of the family. She’s like vitriol on steroids.”

“Yeah? What happened at the wake? You left before I could say goodbye.”

Michael recalls the tension at the funeral, particularly at the wake when Angela Silva grabbed Maya by the elbow and took her youngest daughter outside the house as if she was still a child that needed to be scolded.

“Nothing. I barely said a word that day. Guess everything I do feels like a personal attack to her. I can admit that I'm not perfect, and that sometimes I've acted up just to get a reaction out of her, but that day she just went off again…” She pauses without finishing that thought to take a refreshing sip of her coke. “And that wasn't nearly as bad as the day I told her I was getting…”

“Divorced? Why can't you say the word? It's not Voldemort.”

“What the hell do you know about Voldemort?”

“How do I… Who took you and Carmy to buy those damn books? Have you forgotten?” Maya shakes her head. “You even tried many times invoking his name, so I was haunted by eaters or something like that. You two were real potterheads.”

“And you were just a pothead,” she laughs, stirring the ice cubes in her drink with a straw. “I totally blocked that out. We were just a couple of nerds.”

“I’d say!”

“Meatball sub!” Richie calls from the pass-through window and takes a second look when catching Maya in the joint. “Maya Papaya?!”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She scoffs while Richie promptly abandons the kitchen and goes around the counter to give her a welcoming hug.

“Did you know she was coming?” He asks Michael, as he props his ass on the bar.

“Had no idea. She just showed up.”

“Did you tell her about Carmy?”

“What about him?”

“He’s in Copenhagen.”

“Oh, I knew about that.”

“You two talk often?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Barely more likely. They don't even text anymore. She's tried but there's been nothing but crickets at his end for months.

While Richie grills her about Carmy and what she’s been up to, Michael can’t help but look around the shop to notice, from every corner and wall, memories bouncing all at once in his direction. It takes him back in time to those days when she and Carmy were as thick as thieves.

Their shared history goes back to that same street their families have lived on for over thirty years… It’s still clear in his mind, like it was yesterday, when he was forced to babysit them when they wanted to go to the movies or trick-or-treating or the bookstore. That was a little annoying back then, now he fondly remembers all those times in summer, when they’d go to the convenience store to get ice pops on their bikes. Then they’d ride back and sit in the middle of the swanky rug in their living room and watch TV for hours. More than once they were yelled at by Mama Berzatto when she would come home to find melted colorful stains in the fabric. She would lose her shit. Carmy was used to it. Maya wasn’t, but the girl never flinched once cause Donna and her own mother were cut from the same unstable piece of cloth.

Maya and Carmy were really close up until they went separate ways for college. Their bond was something to admire. They had something so special that inevitably, Carmy fell in love with her. She was his best friend and confident. They kept each other's secrets, and Carmy thought she'd feel the same in return. It wasn't a crazy notion. They spent so much time together, everyone thought it'd lead to something more, but that never happened.

Mikey and Richie used to tease the youngest cub relentlessly. They tried multiple times to encourage him to ask her out, but he never found the guts to do it. Especially if it could potentially end their friendship. Carmy didn't want to lose that. Though he never confessed his feelings, Maya always knew. Even in her teens, call it a woman’s intuition, part of her already knew. Maya wished she'd felt the same toward him, but the heart wants what it wants, and she couldn't change that.

What was really fucked up was that she had the most ridiculous crush on the older Berzatto when she was a teen. While she knew he'd never look at her as anything other than Carmy's annoying little friend, that didn't stop her from daydreaming about it for years. It was a secret that no one ever knew and that was placed in a drawer at the back of her mind after she left Chicago.

After graduating, Maya and Carmy stayed in touch for a long time, until their calls and texts became less frequent. They followed different dreams that required a lot of attention and sadly their friendship got hurt in the process.

While she attended Vet School on the west coast, he became a chef on the east.

Maya thrived at school and work. She really went out on her own, and became the woman she always wanted to be. Unsheltered, confident, outspoken. She outgrew her shell and opened herself to new experiences and people. She loved it all. It wasn’t smooth sailing, but for the most part she was pretty happy with her choices.

And now she's back in Chicago, set on a new path and awaiting to see where it takes her.

She’s living in a house in Oak Park with her dog, Coco; Richie fishes out of her. Apparently, she got some money from uncle Teddy, and she’s invested it in a home for her and her beloved staffy.

“Does Carmy know you’re here?” Richie circles back.

“No, I haven't talked to him in months.”

“Why? Did you two have a fall-out or something?”

“There's no why. We're just busy.”

“Mike, help me out here. Weren’t these two fools supposed to get married?”

“Yeah, everyone thought you'd ended up together.”

“Man, I don't know what to tell you, we just didn't,” her head sinks between her shoulders.

“Just get over yourself and hit him up. The kid has been hung up on you since forever. It looks like things didn’t go so well with your marriage and all. You should take that as a sign, you’d never find anyone better than Carmy. The boy could really use some excitement in his life. And so could you.”

“C’mon, leave her alone. Go back to work, Cousin.”

Michael throws her a lifeline, noticing how miserable she looks every time Richie opens his unfiltered mouth.

“He’s not wrong, you know? You and Carmy… it looked like you two had something special.” Michael offers once Richie is back in the kitchen.

“It’s called friendship. You should look it up.” She points out.

“I have Richie.”

“Exactly. You have Richie. Why don't you two marry the other and leave me alone? If you think about it, you were as close to Richie as I was with Carmy. Even more. Should everyone assume you are in love with him? Cause that's what you're implying.”

“Touché. I'll drop it.”

“Look, as hard as it is to believe, there was nothing else between us. I was aware he felt something for me, but I didn’t feel the same.”

“You should give him a chance sometime. He might surprise you.”

It’s not the first time these two have been trying to play matchmaker between Maya and Carmy, and it’s bizarre to see they still do at any given opportunity.

“Okay, if I give Carmy a chance, you have to give Richie a chance. Those are the rules, Berzatto.”

“Oh, I've tried. He's not into me,” he remarks, amused, and leans closer to confess something in a lower voice. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

“Uh, sure.”

“He and Tiffany are having a baby. He just told me a few days ago.”

“What? You let him reproduce? I'll pray for Tiff.”

Chapter 2: Cool as a cucumber

Everything falls slowly into place as Maya settles back in Chicago. She secures the job at the clinic near The Beef, which is a huge relief after her rushed decision of moving back to her hometown without securing a job first. It was part of the plan all along to practice what she loves but never thought this would be the year. As much as she loved California, once her divorce was finalized she felt like something was trapping her there. And the money she got from her uncle gave her some leeway to improvise, get away from all that, and start over.

Maya is spending her morning going through the stack of unpacked boxes, finding a good place for everything, making it feel more homey. It's not a big house, but spacious enough for the two of them. The big selling point was the backyard for Coco to zoom around and cool down in her wading pool, which she loves. It didn't take long for the five-year-old pup to get used to her new neighborhood. They've even made a couple of friends at the park nearby.

A moment before the doorbell rings, Coco whines from her spot by the window, where she often sits to watch passers in the street.

“Who is it?” Maya playfully asks her dog as she makes her way to the front door.

Through the peephole, she sees Michael's profile as he inspects the porch.

“Hi,” her eyes widen as she opens the door. “Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I would've called, but I didn't get your number the other day.” But he got her address from Richie's intense questioning when she visited the shop.

“I knocked on two different houses until I got the right one,” he explains as Coco curiously circles around his feet, sniffing his pants, hitting his crotch with her nose in the process.

“No, Coco. Sit. How many times have we talked about no nut-tapping?” Maya glances at her with amusement as the dog sits on her haunches.

“It’s fine,” he snorts. “All dogs do that.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. But she’s not any other dog. I thought I had taught her better. So what brings you here?”

“This.” He offers the paper bag hanging in his hand. “It's just a little house-warming gift.”

“You didn't have to.” As she takes the bag from his hand she ushers him inside before closing the door.

“It's nothing, really.”

He glances around as Maya takes out the box from the bag.

“Wow, a set of knives? That's not nothing.”

“Everyone needs one good set of knives. But you can exchange them for something else if you want.”

“No. I like these. But I gotta warn you that I'm not much of a cook, and I'll probably use the same one for everything.”

“That's fine I can show you sometime though. Is she friendly? ” He points at the dog that keeps staring at him. “Can I pet her?”

“Yeah, she loves everyone. Go ahead.”

Michael cautiously pets the brown coat of her head as her floppy ears lower at the passing of his hand.

“Never pictured you with a pit bull.”

“Me neither. I always thought I'd be a cat lady. But I met her at this adoption drive when she was one, and she stole my heart.”

“I can see why.” Michael crouches down, and pets Coco with both hands. “She's really sweet.”

He lets her lick his chin a couple of times before standing back on his feet. Then they go on a tour around the house.

“It's still a work in progress. I'm thinking of painting a few walls, but we like it so far.”

“Yeah, it has good bones.”

“So you don't have to work today?” Asks Maya.

“No, we've had some trouble with the gas line, and we've been shut down for a couple of days.”

“That sucks. Now where am I going to get my sandwiches and coffee on my way to work?”

“Heard Starbucks is pretty good.”

“Shut up. Don't even joke about that.” She playfully shoves his shoulder as they go back to the living room.

“Are you doing something later?”

She shakes her head. “Why?”

“I don't know, thought you were having a comeback party or something.”

“I don't really have any friends here. And I don't feel like inviting my family yet. As you can see, I still have a lot to unpack.”

“Physically or mentally speaking?”

“Both,” she scoffs.

“Let's do something then? Just you and me. We could grab some pizza, or go out for a drink for old times’ sake?”

“Old times’ sake?” It's amusing, surprising and confusing his sudden interest in her. Maybe he can see how pathetic she thinks she is, and he's taking pity on her. Although, that was never Michael style.

“Yeah, c'mon, Mayhem. You look like you could use some fun.” He picks up a book that's sitting on top from the box opened by the couch that's titled — Dating Again with Courage and Confidence: The Five-Step Plan to Revitalize Your Love Life after Heartbreak, Breakup, or Divorce. “And maybe a rebound or something. You don't need a fucking help book. You only need me to show where to get the best guys, or girls. Whatever you're into.”

“Give me that. I don't need a rebound, a help book, or you for all matter finding me a date.”

“No? Then why do you have that?”

“My friend Paige thought I should give it a try.”

“Maybe she was onto something there.”

“I'm perfectly fine. Just want to finish organizing everything, focus on work and this handful I have right here.” Her hand gestures at Coco. “What are you so interested in my love life anyway? First you try to play matchmaker with Carmy, and now you want me to do what, exactly? Hook up with the first guy I see?”

“No, I'm just asking you to go out and have some fun. I know Carmy was the only friend you had here. And if I was in your shoes, I'd feel pretty lonely.”

“I'm not lonely, Michael. Do I miss my friends in Sacramento? Sure,” she admits. “But I don't wanna force anything. I'm just taking it slow. When the time comes I'll jump right in but for now, this is all I need. Really. Stop pitying me.”

“I'm not pitying you, sweetheart.”

“No? Then what is it? Where is this coming from?”

“I don't know… I've always thought you were the salt of the earth. And though we never really hung out together, I thought you could use… But I can see now that you're different, and that you know what you need right now, so I'll just shut up and back off. Let you do your thing.”

“Thank you. I do know what I'm doing, by the way. You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. But I appreciate you coming here anyway.”

“Yeah, of course. And I can help you unpack if you need.”

“Hm, if you don't have anything better to do, be my guest. We could grab a pizza later, if the offer still stands. Or just order some food.”

“Sure.”

Michael helps Maya unpack all the boxes and put everything in place in half the time it'd have taken her alone. They order some food for lunch and spend half the day talking and laughing until late in the afternoon when they decide to go out for some drinks to keep the good vibes going.

At the end of the night, she offers to drive Michael back to his apartment as a thank you for inviting her.

“Did you have fun?” Michael asks from the passenger seat as she pulls up in front of his building.

“Yeah, I did. I'm glad I changed my mind.”

“Me too. I didn't know you were this fun. You're nothing like I remember.”

“Yeah, I was kind of weird growing up. You guys probably thought there was something wrong with me. ”

“Nah, don't be so hard on yourself. We were all weird in our own way.”

“Uh-uh. No Michael Berzatto. You were the coolest guy back in the day, and you still are.”

“I don’t know about that,” he scoffs. “For the record… I never thought there was anything wrong with you.”

“You were probably the only one… Anyway, thank you for today. I know I said I didn't need this, but I guess I did.”

“You're welcome, Maybird. I'm glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Thanks for bringing me home,” he softly squeezes her arm before reaching for the handle to open the door.

“No problem.”

“You know you can call me if you ever miss your friends, y’know?” he throws casually.

“I uh…sure. I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoes back as he pulls the handle and the door opens.

“Have a good night, Michael,” she says as he gets one foot on the pavement.

“You, too, sweetheart.”

He closes the door and vaguely waves as she sets the car in motion and watches her drive away.

Chapter 3: Don't cry over spilled milk

In the few weeks he's been spending time with Maya, Michael has found himself enjoying her company more than he'd like to admit. Being with her grounds him. She makes him forget for a little while all that's wrong in his life. She's like a beacon in that immerse darkness that his sorry existence has become. Despite having her own set of problems, he's watched her rise above all that with poise. He wonders what it's her secret to her steadfast determination, even when her own family has disavowed her.

After closing shop, he dives into his stash to tame that brewing headache before driving to Oak Park to pay her a visit. She told him earlier via text that she was at Home Depot buying some paint to update the color of her bedroom and asked him to come over to hang out after work.

For some reason, he couldn't say no. Not even the storm in his head is strong enough to deny her request. He has a pull on him, tugging him hard like a dog tied to a leash in her hand, he can’t help but follow her lead.

When he arrives at her house, she's halfway done. Two of the walls shine bright new in a lavender tone as she starts working on the next one.

After having beer and playing a tug of war game with his new friend, Coco, Michael offers his help to finish painting the walls. He uses a brush to paint the corners, while she gracefully uses a roller like a pro with her denim overalls over a tank top, and her raven hair pulled up in a ponytail sprinkled with lavender paint beads. When she lifts one of her arms, he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on the side of her rib cage, leveled to the roundness of her chest that looks like the outline of a dog paw.

“What are you looking at?” She asks after catching him staring.

“You have paint on your chin.”

“Oh.” She wipes it with the back of her hand, but she just spreads the stain along her jaw. “I made it worse, didn't I?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugs it off and continues with the task ahead until the whole wall is covered.

“Is everything okay, Bear?” Maya puts down the paint roller. “You're quieter than usual.”

“Yeah, everything's alright.” It sounds so honest, he almost believes it. “It's just been a long day.”

“I'm sorry that I put you to work.”

“Don't be. This is relaxing.”

“Yeah?” She takes a step back and surveys how much brighter her bedroom looks already after covering most of the former downcast grey. “Is the color right? Do you think it's too girlish?”

Giving the room a once over he says, “it's a good shade. I dig it. It doesn't matter what I think or if it's too girlish, as long as you like it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She dips the roller on the tray to cover another section of the wall.

“You never told me what happened at the funeral with your mom,” Michael leans on the stepladder, taking a short break.

“Do you really wanna know?” She glances over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Everyone does. I’ve heard some crazy stories about it. Thought I should get it straight from the source.”

“I never pegged you for a gossip girl.”

“I’m not. I’m just making conversation.”

She mockingly narrows her eyes, drawing a lopsided smirk, “liar.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. But yeah, can’t help being a little curious about it.”

“I don’t mind telling you, but it won’t be as entertaining as those crazy stories people have made up.”

“I’m not here for entertainment. I just wanna hear your side of the story, Maybird.”

Maya lets out a heavy sigh and while keeping her focus on the wall she shares with him what really happened. She’s right to say that is not the best story she’s ever told, though when it comes to her mother, all her stories tend to have a surreal element even she can’t fathom sometimes.

That day at the funeral, she was taken outside during the wake by Angela Silva to get scolded about her imminent divorce. It wasn’t finalized by then, and her mom invoked one last Hail Mary to convince her to stay with her husband, who was also currently dating someone else. It was a messy situation that Maya couldn't wait to get out of, and the fact that her mother never offered an ounce of support wasn’t surprising, but still devastating. Somehow, Angela found that the reason for her separation from her husband was that Maya didn’t want to have kids, and that really vexed Angela. All she wanted for her three kids was to follow the same traditional path Angela was forced into, no matter how miserable she was. Her two older sisters followed her mother’s narrowed traditional values. But Maya, ever-the-nonconformist, swore she would never follow anyone’s drum beat but her own. Her husband thought she’d change her mind eventually. He was wrong. She knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which led her here, to this moment.

“Is your mom ever happy?” Michael has always wondered.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happy, except when she’s drunk. That’s why she has to make everyone else miserable.”

“Yeah, but she’s always had a fixation on making you miserable.”

“Like I said, every family needs a black sheep, and I’m it.”

“Is that why you became a vet?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So, it's true, you don’t wanna have kids? I’m not judging. I’m just curious.”

“I honestly don't know. I just knew that when he told me he wanted to have a baby right away, it didn’t feel right. I said that maybe in six or seven years I’d be okay with it. Told him I wanted to travel and just be us for a while, and he said that was too long to wait. I don’t know… he stopped talking to me, and it was clear that he wasn’t changing his mind, and I wasn’t changing my mind, so. At some point I got tired of trying… He got a girlfriend as soon as I filed for divorce and I got a text from Paige the other day that said he got her already pregnant, like… that was never me. I guess it served me right… I married him on a whim, an impulse without really talking about what we wanted…”

“Hey, don’t feel sorry for yourself. You dodged a bullet there.”

“You really think that?.”

“Yeah, I do. You stood up for yourself and knew when to step back when it didn’t feel right. Not everyone has the balls to do that. Think how miserable you’d be by now if you had tried to please him or your mom. You seem happy now. That's what matters.” He means that with all his heart, and wishes he had the same drive to follow those same steps. As much as he loved the restaurant, he chose to run it to please people within his family. And that love turned into a nightmare he couldn't escape.

“You know… I liked you better when you were quiet,” she quips.

Michael huffs a soft laugh, picking up his brush to resume painting.

When the room is finished, she plugs a couple of fans and closes the door to keep Coco away.

Maya washes her hands and face in the bathroom sink. When she comes out, she catches the motion of Michael's arm as he shoves what looks like a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water from one of her glasses.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It's just a headache,” looking down, he runs a palm over his short growing beard.

“Is it the fumes?”

“No, I had it before coming here.”

“Michael,” she sighs softly at his name. “You should've told me. I wouldn't have let you help if I knew.”

“Would you stop that? I wanted to help.”

“Okay, c'mere. Let's sit down.”

“No, I think I should get going.”

“Nonsense. I'm not going to let you drive until you feel better.”

He yields with a long exhale, and follows Maya into the living room, where her bed is settled askew in the middle of the space.

She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and waits for him to sit next to her.

“Give me your hand,” she shows her palm up, as his eyes narrow. “C'mon, don't be a baby, give me your hand, Berzatto.”

“When did you become so bossy?” He slowly lifts his hand and as he lays it on top of her palm, his fingers tremble upon contact with her skin. Maya then uses her opposite hand to clip the webbing between his thumb and pointer fingers with her own and begins massaging that spot.

“My friend Sierra is really into acupressure. She says this is a pressure point that helps with headaches.” She explains while slowly increasing the force. “Does it hurt?”

“Not one bit. Is that like acupuncture?” His voice comes as a whisper as he focuses on her diligent fingers.

“Kinda. I think. I’m not really sure.”

“You don't have to fix me, you know?”

“I'm not trying to fix you, Bear. I just wanna make you feel better.”

“Admit it. You just love a good wounded animal.”

She smiles softly, placing his hand down on his knee and picking up the other. “Does it feel any different?”

He’s not really sure, it wasn’t truly a headache that led them to take that pill but the annoying rambling of his thoughts. She shouldn’t have seen that. And he shouldn’t have lied. But having her hands on his like this is straight up lovely. Inside of him, it truly feels like something is broken, wounded, and missing, and this is giving him a sliver of relief as he waits for the pill to kick in. If he was a better man, he’d tell her the truth. But he’s too far gone for saving. All he can do is keep that facade up.

“Does it?” She insists after not getting an answer.

“A little.”

“Do you wanna lay down?”

Swallowing, he responds with a nod, and they both lean back on the mattress at the same time. Looking at the ceiling, she keeps kneading that pressure point, unsure if she’s even doing it right.

They stay in comfortable silence for a good five minutes and when she finally places his hand down, Maya glances to the side and sees that his eyes have closed, and his chest gently rising and falling. She calls his name softly, but she can see that behind the sharp edges of his face and the ever-growing shade of his beard, he’s truly exhausted, so she doesn’t insist. She extends her hand to turn off the lamp, and curls on the other side of the bed without disturbing his sleep.

“Good night,” she says softly and closes her eyes.

From a dusty corner of her mind comes crawling that little forgotten part that used to harbor a lot of feelings for Michael. Though a few weeks ago he seemed practically the same Michael she knew, over the past month she’s keenly noticed little changes here and there. His eyes sometimes cast a dark shade tainted in nothing but sadness, it’s barely noticeable for other people. It comes and goes, but it tells her he’s not truly as happy as he pretends to be.

Michael wakes up disoriented at the crack of dawn.

It takes him a few seconds to remember he’s still in Mayas’ bed in the middle of her living room and that the weight that has his arm pinned is her body pressed against his. She’s warmly snuggled on his side, with her arms tucked between his chest and hers, and a peaceful expression on her beautiful face. She’s so awfully close, he can smell the scent of her hair, and feel the heat of her breath every time she exhales.

It's such an odd moment for him to have her that close. He's unsure of whether it would be better to slip out of bed unnoticed before she wakes up, or just stay there and watch her sleep for a bit longer. Either option would make him look like a creep, he thinks. So he opts to gently wake her up. His free hand reaches to his forehead to move a stand of hair away. Her brow scrunches as his light-feather touch grazes her skin. His lips curve up as he traces the shell of her ear to see her stir awake. She blinks slowly a couple of times until her focus shifts onto him.

“Hey, Maybird.”

“Hey.” Her lips move, it's barely audible.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.” His fingers absentmindedly massage her earlobe.

She's so stunned by waking up to that level of intimacy, she simply nods, as her mouth softly draws a smile.

“It's fine. Does your head feel better?”

“Much better. That pressure thing really worked.”

“I'm glad.”

“Listen, I gotta go open. Maybe we could do something later?”

“Okay,” she swallows nervously, hoping that waking up with him like this isn't just a dream. “Can you do me a favor first?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stay five more minutes?”

“I uh… I think I can,” against his better judgment, he decides he can stay for a few minutes more holding her.

The way her lips pull up timidly at the corners, revealing the dimples framing her mouth, completely disarms him. He’s always felt a certain affinity towards her, but being this close to her awakes a longing within that feels dangerous. He can’t bring someone new into his life. Not while everything around him is falling apart. It’s already hard enough having to pretend around other people.

He couldn’t do that to her. He won’t.

Michael will have to fight harder because when her arm tucks around his waist he can’t help but press his lips against her forehead.

Chapter 4: Hard nut to crack

Four months later…

After that initial moment of weakness when he fell asleep on her bed, he fought hard to elude that odd longing that has only grown into a big mass of love toward Maya. To anyone else in the world, a feeling as big as that would be a blessing, especially when it's reciprocated. To Michael, it's a weakness he can't afford right now.

Spending all that time with Maya has been like discovering a whole new planet Michael never thought existed. She's all vast, uncharted territory that fazes him more than it should. Despite his best efforts, he’s fallen into her alluring orbit and can’t find the way out into his own universe.

Far gone is that moody teenager that would mumble a few words here and there. And now there's this tragically stunning woman that looks you directly in the eye, says anything that crosses her mind, and laughs without a care in the world.

Though falling in love with her wouldn’t be completely wrong, it's not quite right either. It fills him with guilt to think about her in that manner. Moreover, it feels like a betrayal to Carmy, who’s far away in a different continent, prospering in his craft.

Michael tries to fool himself into believing that this is just temporary infatuation. He’s even attempted several times to convince her to get in touch with Carmy but hasn’t succeeded. It’d be easier for him if she were to put her focus on someone else instead of him. He has nothing to offer to her and has deemed himself unworthy of her, or anyone for that matter. If she only knew what’s really going on with him, she wouldn’t want Michael nearly as she believes she does.

Layer by layer, she’s tearing all his walls and defenses down. And after all the back and forth, he's absolutely sure she wants more than he can offer her. She’s been giving him the right signals. She doesn't shy away from it. Maya is direct and impulsive, and everything about her is fascinating and intimidating.

It’s time to either cut her loose, or accept that he’s madly in love with her and do something about it.

Amidst coming to terms with a final decision, he's lured into a surprise party she's organized for his birthday.

Michael is left speechless by her determination. And a little annoyed too for reasons he can't explain. To be honest, he’s never been a fan of surprise parties, but the main problem is that this would make things much harder for him to let her down easily. She’s carved herself into his life and the longer he drags this out, the worse this is going to hurt.

He’s aware that it’s selfish and obtuse of him for being that ungrateful that someone who cares that profoundly about him, that they would go all out to prove that. He feels like an asshole, but the train has already left the station.

Using the same tiring self-defense mechanism, he draws his best smile and brings out the Michael everyone seems to love. Not without help. There's always that crutch tucked in his wallet in the form of a pill. Being high numbs him enough to deal with the situation.

The cherry on top comes at the end of the night, when he walks her up to her car and asks if he's had a good time. He lies through his teeth and for the first time, he can tell Maya is not buying it. Perhaps she never did, but he's well-versed on her tells by now, and he can clearly see she's fed up with all the bullshit that comes out of his mouth.

“Look, it's not that I didn't like the party. It's just that I hate surprises, and I was exhausted today. But it was a nice thought, sweetheart. I just… I wasn't in the right mood.” It's seemingly convincing the second time around, but her face shows nothing but regret. “I love the jacket you bought me, though.”

Michael has never been interested in fashion, but he's always loved vintage jackets, and the one she picked it's a perfect addition to his collection. It's a bomber jacket, aviator style, in brown leather with a couple of patches and fur collar.

As they reach Maya's car, they come to a stop. She turns to him, “I know I can be a little too much sometimes. But I promise no more surprises from now on.”

“You and I both know, you won’t be able to keep that promise even if your life depended on it. That's part of what makes you– you, sweetheart. Don’t let my bad mood ruin that.”

“I’ll try.”

After a beat, without hesitation she leans in to leave a goodnight kiss on his bearded cheek and on a whim, she decides to press a second one on his lips.

It takes him completely aback. He wants to dive so badly into her mouth, but he freezes on the spot. And when Maya attempts to deepen the kiss, he finally reacts by placing a placating hand on her shoulder as he pulls his head back.

“I'm… I'm sorry we can't do this, Maya.”

“Wait, I thought… Did I misread something?”

“No, you didn’t misread anything. I just can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“I can't.”

“You can't or don’t want to?”

“Guess I don’t want to.”

“Can you at least tell me why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.” He wants to spill out the old – it's not you, it's me – excuse, but he refrains. Every thought and action go against every good instinct he's ever had. He hates himself for making her feel insecure. And yet, he can't backtrack now.

“Stop calling me sweetheart. You see how misleading that is?”

“Sorry. I think I gave you the wrong impression.”

Her eyes narrow, and he can see the gears turning for a long moment before opening her mouth.

“I don't think you gave me the wrong impression, Michael. I think you're too chickenshit to admit that there's something between us and, for whatever reason, you're just taking the coward's way out. You've been weird the whole night, especially with me. I just threw a party just for you, the least you can do is tell me why.”

“I didn't ask you to do that. And I don't owe telling you shit! I was trying to let you go easy, but nothing is ever easy with you. So I'll just say it. This, you and me, is never going to happen.”

It sounds ridiculous as it comes out of his mouth, but he stands firm on that statement as her heart breaks in front of him.

In the end, it'd be better for her, he believes.

#michael berzatto x ofc #michael berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal #original character #michael berzatto x reader #angst #fluff #darlingwrites #sorry i used the reader tag #it's the only way to get my fic seen #salt of the earth

208 notes · View notes

yikesharringrove · 4 months

Text

Nobody knows what's wrong with Steve Harrington.

He was there one day, and the next, he was a shell of himself.

It wasn't even really the mall fire that did it.

He was okay, seen around town a few times, although more withdrawn than he had been a few years ago, but that change has been slow. It's been happening for longer than just summer break.

But then the mall burned down, and Harrington could be seen applying to new jobs, tied at the hip with some weirdo incoming senior band geek.

And then, all of a sudden, nothing.

The weirdo band geek was all by herself.

The maroon BMW sat gathering dust in the driveway of the big house, the paint getting sunfaded.

The blinds on the bedroom window were drawn.

And Steve wasn't dead.

He just wasn't really alive anymore.

He sat, well, he laid, every minute of every day, in his darkened bedroom. IN his bed.

He barely moved. He barely ate.

And nobody knew why.

There were whispers around town.

He'd gotten injured in the fire. He was on house arrest. He'd skipped town.

But really, what no one knew,

was that the second Billy Hargrove's body was locked six feet under, Steve's heart was buried with him.

It had taken a long time to arrange a funeral.

Billy's body was burned and broken.

(And government property).

So, no open casket at the Irish Catholic mass that served as a funeral.

His dad spoke.

His sister spoke.

A teacher spoke.

A friend spoke.

And Steve Harrington sat in the very back row, twisting a piece of loose thread around his finger, over and over again.

He left early, slipped out the back before anyone could see the imminent breakdown.

And he hasn't been seen since.

He's thin.

Much thinner than he's been in a long time.

And he's pale. Really pale. His olive skin tinged a sickly yellow.

But there's no point in any of it anymore.

Because the love of his life died, and nobody knows.

There has been activity at his house, people going in and out.

The band geek trying to lure him into the shower. The loud know-it-all kid speaking in a hushed tone and begging him to eat.

But he didn't feel anything anymore.

And he didn't feel there was a point to his existence.

He thought that maybe, wasting away into nothing was easier than the stabbing pain, the guilt and regret he felt every moment of everyday.

Because he can't even mourn him.

He couldn't speak at the funeral.

Nobody knew they were friends, let alone more than that.

He couldn't cry over the grave.

He couldn't wear black and walk around like some Victorian woman.

Life goes on.

But he doesn't know how to keep going.

Because his life was Billy.

They would see one another every day. Sometimes more than once.

They would spend their nights together, they would drive together. They would sit on the couch and make fun on the whatever was on the t.v. together.

And now, he's alone.

And doing everything they used to do, it's agony.

It's agony when for a split second, he forgets that his love is dead and buried, and he wants to turn to say something to him, and finds empty air.

He doesn't know how he could ever cope with the crushing disappointment of being alone.

The typewriter is his mom's idea.

He took a typing class in school, just a semester learning about how to actually use one of the clunky things.

(He and Tommy used to take out the springs so that theirs wouldn't work and they didn't have to actually so anything in class that day.)

He woke up one morning with it sitting on his desk. Brand new. A stack of paper on the right, one piece already loaded in.

It took him six days to type anything.

And when he did, it was garbage. Nonsensical feelings covered in correction fluid and typos and tears. Stupid ramblings about his absolute misery.

But, it did help. A tiny bit.

He's never been good at writing.

Which is why he left the finished product in Robin's mailbox and biked away as fast as he could. (He doesn't really like driving anymore.)

He didn't want to face her as she read it.

He left a note, explaining what it was.

She never made a comment that she got it, but two days later the draft was back in his mailbox, red pen corrections and comments covering the pages.

He took her suggestions. Edited out what she felt should go, added in where she needed more detail.

And it took six months.

But he has a novel.

Or, something like it.

It's a sort of memoir.

All the events are true. All the feelings are true.

But nobody would believe it was real.

Certainly not anyone on the list of independent publishers Robin had slipped into his mailbox with her final round of edits.

Steve typed each of the five copies by hand.

It took him months, somehow longer than the actual thing had taken him to write.

But he sent them off, manuscripts in sealed envelopes. A queer romantic science fiction novel. Something with a devastating ending.

Something that most certainly didn't happen to himself.

He didn't receive any notice for several weeks, and the waiting would've been the worst part, if all of this hadn't been born out of the gory death of the love of his life.

But it was.

And the waiting was the second worst part.

Until a letter.

A publisher asking for a meeting.

Robin accompanied him on the Greyhound to Chicago, but she didn't come into the meeting with him. She had done enough already, it's time for him to finish the story.

The person he met with told him she cried when she read his story. Told him if I ever lost my wife the way that the Steve in the story lost his Billy, I don't know how I could go on.

The book was published under the name S. Hargrove.

Because if he couldn't have Billy, at least he could have his name.

#I watched a sad gay french movie and here we are #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

167 notes · View notes

strangersteddierthings · 1 year

Text

Porcelain Steve - Part 4

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

"I don't think this is a good idea," Nancy says, a week later, as she takes a step back. She doesn't seem aware of the physical distance she's added between herself and Robin, but more importantly, herself and Steve in Robin's outstretched arm.

Robin frowns, pulling Steve back towards her body, eyes flicking to meet with Eddie's where he's been hovering awkwardly off to the side, feeling so very out of place. He was going to stay in the van, but when they arrived Robin had raised an eyebrow and said 'aren't you coming?' So, he'd climbed out and followed her into the Wheeler's living room, where he is now.

"What?" Robin asks.

Nancy crosses her arms and looks off to the side. "We shouldn't pass the doll around like this. The more we move it, the bigger chance of someone breaking it."

"It?" seethes Robin, "Steve is not an it!"

"Shit, no, Robin I know that. I didn't mean to say that out loud," Nancy says, then her face screws up as she immediately regrets saying that. "I don't mean that, either. I just, this is. Difficult. For me."

Eddie can't help the scoff that leaves him at that. As if Nancy is the only one taking this harshly. If she knew how long Dustin had cried into his chest two days ago she'd probably have a bit more perspective. Eddie's come to realize she's a badass with a shotgun, a great strategist in dire situations, but when it comes to being a person with emotions and feelings? He's not sure Nancy learned how to do that.

That might be unfair of him to say because he didn't know Nancy before spring break of '86 and didn't really get to know her before she packed up and went to college. This is the first summer since then, so still not a whole lot of 'hanging out and getting to know Nancy Wheeler time' has happened.

He did get to know Jonathan and Argyle, though. Got to hear about her past with Jonathan and Steve (Eddie feels a bit like an idiot for everything he said about Nancy to Steve during the worst week of his life, but he's used to being embarrassed by things he says and pretending he's not). So, he's heard about her steamrolling over people's emotions with her own logic and wants, though can concede it never seems to be intentional.

He tries to lower his hackles because Robin's already on the defensive and Eddie doesn't know Nancy. Just knows of her from people she's hurt, which is almost always a biased retelling anyway.

"Like it's not difficult for all of us?" Robin asks.

"No, that's not what I meant. Just- give me a moment!" Nancy whips around, so that neither Robin or Eddie can see her face. Her shoulders heave up and down like she's taking several deep breaths.

Eddie moves into Robin's space but hovers just beside her, unsure if she'd welcome a hand on her shoulder or not. She huffs out a sigh, as if able to read his mind, and the next thing he knows she's weaseling her way in between him and his own arm, using him as a leaning post like she might with Steve if he were, y'know, still a human and not a doll. He's not used to how touchy Robin is yet because she's only like this with Steve but he's getting there. He's not Robin's soulmate, and he's not trying to be, but he does want to be there for her while Steve can't.

"I'm surprised you're giving her space to think," Eddie whispers into the top of Robin's head.

"Yeah, well, Steve doesn't need to hear us arguing. It's like, all he hears lately."

He pats her arm with his hand since she's draped his arm across her shoulders.

Nancy finally turns around. "Can. Can we put Steve up in my room? I have to say some things that I'm not ready for him to hear yet."

"Oh." Robin says, before offering Steve out.

Nancy takes him, muttering a soft, "I'm sorry, Steve." before she disappears up the stairs.

"What's on your mind, Wheeler?" Eddie asks, breaking the silence that had settled uncomfortably since Nancy's return to the living room.

"I don't really think of Steve as an it. I don't. It's just- easier for me to think of the solution if I'm not thinking about how that's really Steve. I know that's Steve, that he's been transformed, but if I acknowledge that, think about it too much, I spiral. I've taken to just... thinking about some abstract magic doll instead of Steve. So, that was- it was an accident. I didn't mean to say it."

He feels Robin nodding her head, adjusting her stance as she crosses her arms.

Nancy continues, "I don't think Steve should spend time here. With Mike or I. We aren't- it's not going to be good for Steve. He's not going to feel welcomed or wanted here. Except maybe for with Holly, but she cannot know he's here. She'd try and play with him."

Eddie frowns. He understands that Mike isn't going to part of the Hang Out With Porcelain Steve rotation, because whatever beef they have can't be fixed while Steve's like this, and until it's fixed, that would just be torture for both of them. He's not sure why Nancy thinks she'd be just as bad, though, so he asks, "No Holly, no Mike. Why are you also a no?"

The look on Nancy's face is comical, a mix of indignation, sadness, and a bit of how can you seriously not already know the answer mixed. "Because I won't hang out with him. I can't be walking around my house with a porcelain doll that looks like my ex-boyfriend. He'll be left, probably face down, on my dresser, until someone else's turn comes around."

"You could put in the effort, you know. It's not going to kill you to pretend to care for a day," Robin says.

Nancy sucks in a sharp breath. "I do care! Just because I don't want to cuddle with Doll Steve and tell him all about my day doesn't mean I don't care. Just because I don't express my feelings and emotions the same way you do doesn't mean I don't have them."

"Ok, right, yeah, that was unfair of me," Robin concedes, "but what's the part you aren't saying? None of this sounds like something you had to lock Steve in your room for. It's understandable, and Steve wouldn't hold it against you, you know."

"I know! I do! That's why I can't. There's- Robin, you have to know. Steve and I aren't- we're still more like ex's than friends. It's... complicated. We're working on it, though, the being friends thing. But it's..."

"Complicated," Robin sighs, stepping away from Eddie now, halfway to Nancy before she stops walking, hands on her hips.

"That spring break, it fucked us all up, and the months that followed, but I was so- Steve and I were dancing around each other, and Jonathan and I were good, then not, on and then off and then on. And I-I led Steve on, because I would turn to him when Jonathan and I were fighting, or on a break, or whatever-" Nancy stops to take a breath.

Eddie feels something ugly rising in him, jealousy and anger. He doesn't have any right to be jealous. Steve and he are friends, and Steve's straight so it's not like Eddie ever even had a chance, but he's jealous anyway. That Nancy gets that kind of attention from Steve. That she can just keep pieces of Steve on a string, enjoying him when she wants and discarding him when she doesn't. Anger that she can just treat Steve like a yoyo and get away with it.

A little angry at Steve, too, for letting her do it.

"Did you and Steve have sex while you and Jonathan were together?" Robin seethes.

"No! No! There was one time, Jonathan and I were off-again and I tried- but no!" Nancy is pink in the face, and Eddie's surprised she even answers. It's not his or Robin's business if they did. He thinks she might only be answering honestly because it's Robin asking. "Steve said no. He told me he wasn't going to do that the Jonathan. Because he knew what it felt like to be on that side. And even now that Jonathan and I are done, moved on, Steve and I aren't- so it's complicated."

That's news to Eddie. He thought Nancy and Jonathan were still a couple. He's a little shocked to learn that Nancy is confirmed available and Steve didn't jump on the chance.

"Oh! I get it, now, why this is not a good idea," Robin says. Great that she knows, because Eddie still doesn't. "He said no, didn't he?"

Who said no to what?

Nancy's eyes snap to Robin. "What?"

"When you asked Steve to be your boyfriend again. He said no."

"He told you-?"

"No," Robin interrupts, "Steve would never, and you know that. I just know Steve, and the one thing he would never tell me about if it happened. That's why you don't want him here."

"You're in love with him!" Eddie blurts because he's also just figured it out and like Robin often does, has no brain to mouth filter.

Nancy looks to Eddie now, a small frown on her face. "Possibly. But it doesn't matter because I had my chance and it's over now. So, I can't have him here. Not while he's like this."

"I'll go get him," Robin says, leaving the living room.

"Eddie," Nancy locks eyes with him. The look on her face is pretty intense. "He told me no because he thought he was in love with someone else."

He blinks back at her. "Were you hoping he told me who? 'Cause he didn't. That's a question better left for Robin."

All he gets in response is an eye roll.

#steddie #platonic stobin #porcelain steve #i think steve and nancy could become friends again one day #but like... maybe in 1995 or something like that #after plenty of time has past #its rough to stay friends with an ex you were in love with #wheres the rest of the wheeler family you might ask #good question. out somewhere doing something #my fic

803 notes · View notes

kitorin · 7 months

Text

8:13 am - s.akito

Shinonome Akito doesn't and hasn't loved.

He adores and loves his mother of course, and she reciprocates full heartedly. Him and Ena may constantly argue but they both know very well that they'd die for each other. But in an romantic context he's absolutely repulsed.

Akito doesn't want it. Music is above everything and everyone. Relationships can't compare to the fleeting moments of the spotlight during a show—nor the exhilarating satisfaction of noticing improvement after excruciating hours of practice.

It's such an ugly concept too. His father only hurts his sister, almost singlehandedly ruining her art career and being the sole reason she can't believe in herself anymore— all while justifying his actions with the excuse of love.

Akito doesn't want love either. The only enticing desire that ever came to visit him were self improvement. It's a satisfactory way of living. Unlike others he never suffered from pining for another nor struggling to pick up the pieces of his own heart— it can't happen if he doesn't open it up to anyone at all.

It was futile thought, no matter how much he tried to follow that philosophy, or how long he's been able to abide by it— because right next to him lies the disruption in his peace.

Sunlight bleeds through the curtains, illuminating your sleeping expression, Akito observes the gentle rise of your chest, entranced with your gentle breathing.

Romance is stupid. So is love, trivial and useless, if it hurt his family then why should he bother luxuriating in it. It's foolish, an utter waste of time, something only an idiot would bother pursuing.

Yet he finds himself here, remaining in bed just to stare at someone, despite the fatigue itching behind his eyes.

Even with your hair in a mess and your face lazily squished against a pillow, it's one of the most ethereal sights he's ever laid his eyes on. A sight only for him. Akito always adores how you look no matter what, but something about seeing you at full peace makes him smile a bit harder.

He hated it, loathed how you were the bane of his existence, the fault in his once flawless discipline. Akito always prioritises practice. He doesn't spend money unless it was for the sake of his performances. And he abides his strict sleep schedule constantly.

But here he is, hours past the time he usually wakes up, admiring the person he's probably spent almost tens of thousands of yen on, even if there's a bit of drool accumulating on their bottom lip.

Akito can go on about how much he hates you. Ever since you stepped into his life, he found himself skipping practice to hang out with you. Prize money went to buying you your favourite books, and the time reserved for picking out song lists went to binging all of your show recommendations. One of his solo shows were entirely forgot by him; all because he felt the urge to blurt out his feelings for you.

You're a flaw. A weakness. A falter in what he calls control.

Initially, he thought he lost it. With how he was constantly reminded of his infinite adoration for you, it didn't take long to accept.

Every detail of you is imprinted in his mind. Your rambles sooth his stress; you could be complaining about someone and it'd still be music to his ears. The way you express yourself is so sweet to him, as smooth as honey and saccharine like the summer air. Your touch is warm, a comforting spring night that flushes his face red every single time.

Being loved was just as addictive. No one's ever bought him flowers, or written him poetry or little love notes during class. He'd never kissed someone until you, nor laughed so hard until he gasped for air.

Through half lidded eyes he notices movement in your body, with a yawn your arms reach out to Akito, though not quite enough to pull him closer. He obliges to your motions, muscular arms wrapping around you as he plants a kiss on your forehead.

"Mornin'."

You respond with incoherent murmurs, burying your face into his warm chest, pressing against his now racing heartbeat. He stifles a laugh after seeing your reaction, patting your head.

A glimpse at the time and he knows he should probably go home soon. His mum must be worried after he stormed out of the house late at night, almost breaking down from hearing another argument invade the comfort of his room.

"I need to go." Raspy and careful, he whispers into your ear. "I'll see you at school." His movements halt as you cling onto his wrist.

"Stay. Please."

As if second nature Akito complies. His body obeys before he can even process your words mentally, returning to your initial position with him. He takes it as an opportunity to throw your blanket back onto you.

"Are you sure...? Didn't you have a morning shift today?"

"I wanna stay here with you."

And I would stay here with you forever, if I could. "I'll be here for as long as you'd like then." Another kiss. This time on your cheek.

"Can't go to work anyways." He asks why, mumbling with his face against your neck. "'m sick."

Akito withdraws. "Really?" Urgency wards off lethargy. Was he out of it? He didn't notice you cough or sneeze, and your breathing seemed stable too.

You nod, wearily. "Yeah. Lovesick." Akito flicks your forehead, almost instantaneously.

He ignores your complaints. "Idiot. Don't worry me again." He scolds you as if a smile wasn't tugging at his lips. "C'mon, sleep more. We stayed up late last night."

"Worry about yourself more. You literally carried me to my room because I fell asleep on the couch."

He shrugs it off. "You're not heavy."

In return, you scoff. "Still would've been more convenient to sleep there."

"You say that as if I wouldn't shoulder the weight of the world for your sake." His lithe finger poke your cheek. "One more hour. Sleep just that and I'll buy you lunch later."

"As if you ever let me pay."

Akito shrugs again, he'd do anything for you, that included making sure your wallet was never empty. His father was rich, might as well make the most of it even if he loathes him. "Bookstore as well, then."

You give in, surrendering to his deal. "Fine. Since you're so insistent."

And so he grins at his victory, tucking you in again and joining you. He intertwines his fingers with yours, calloused thumb stroking your knuckles as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Akito feels so relax that it finds it unsettling, it's as if he never broke down from hearing his family argue— as if said struggles never existed in the first place.

Love is still poison to Akito, only you seem to make it appear so intoxicating— if it's you he'll allow himself to indulge in said venom, even if it puts his fragile heart at risk.

taglist (send an ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @chigirizzz (not a proper fic but take a drabble in the mean time)

#virtualnetwork #shinonome akito #fluff #shinonome akito x reader #pjsekai #pjsekai x reader #vivid bad squad #project sekai #prsk #prosekai #pjsk fanfic #project sekai x reader

283 notes · View notes

honeysuckleharringtons · 7 months

Note

just steve harrington being so selfless and not taking time for himself melting into a puddle if the reader or you or y/n (idk which one to put 💀) just asked him if he was okay a lot (I do that 24/7, this is purely self indulgent) and the many times he said yeah and the one time he said no :(

i was originally gonna do a full fic style blurb on this but words have been very hard for me lately so i'm just gonna do a text post about this! hope you don't mind 🫶🏻

warnings: reader is sorta implied to be fem!reader, allusions to steve being treated not so well by his parents as a kid, part of this does mention some upside down violence, tiny mention of food, no use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

I imagine the first time it happens is probably in gym class when you're younger.

You accidentally hit him right in his pretty lil face with a dodgeball ☹️

And Steve being Steve insists he's okay because "I get hit all the time in basketball and football. I've broken bones and nearly busted my teeth out. A lil dodgeball never hurt anyone."

But you can tell he's hurt.

Whether it's him that's hurt or his bruised ego, you can't really tell.

But some part of him was clearly hurt.

more under the cut!

The second time it happens is when you get paired together for a study group during senior year.

Steve struggles with a lot of subjects, but math is probably his worst.

And it's not like he doesn't want to get better, his parents just never sat down at the table and helped him with anything growing up, and when his nannies told his dad about his report cards, it didn't end very well ☹️

But math is the one he's always had the hardest time with.

So when the two of you get paired to study for the calculus final, you can almost immediately tell he's struggling to understand the questions on the example sheet.

At one point, he just kinda places his head in his hands and groans into his palms.

And you're just kinda like, "Hey, you okay?"

And again, Steve is never one to admit defeat.

"I'll be fine. Can you just help me with question four?"

Surprisingly though, after just a few nights of studying together, you become sort of reluctant allies.

He surprisingly excelled in human biology, which you did not. So, the two of you helped each other where you could.

And then it happened a third time, during the summer after you'd graduated.

Steve had had a rather unsuccessful time trying to flirt with the ladies that often came into Scoops Ahoy.

This day had been no different.

He'd really tried his hardest to get the beautiful ginger in front of you to go with him to the movies on Friday.

But she and her friends just moved along, double-scoop ice cream cones in hand, back to their shopping.

"You good?" you asked, nearly on the verge of laughing, as you stepped up to the counter.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he answered sarcastically. "Just a little bruise to my ego. That was definitely the first time any lady has turned down this beautiful face."

Part of you, though, was hurting. Hurting that, even though you were right in front of him, he'd never bothered to look at you that way.

The fourth time it happened, you really started to question everything you thought you knew about Steve.

Somehow, despite being back in town for a total of two days, you'd gotten roped into something to do with some evil dude named Vecna.

And for once, after everything you'd learned since arriving back in Hawkins for spring break, Steve was the one asking if you were okay.

Also for once, one of you was answering the question truthfully.

However, in the week that followed after, even in the midst of alternate dimensions and weird mutations of bats, you'd learned that Steve might have been causing his previous lady problems on purpose.

And when you saw the painful expression he sported as Nancy Wheeler was reunited with her boyfriend, your own heart shattered all over again.

Still, if there was one thing you were, it was a good friend to Steve.

So, you pulled him aside and asked those three little words.

Steve simply ran a hand through his disheveled hair with a slow nod.

But you could tell he was nearly at the point of breaking.

And the time when he finally answered truthfully, he really did break.

You'd drove with him to the hospital to check up on Max Mayfield, who somehow he'd became friends with despite the age difference.

The room was dead silent, other than the annoying buzzing coming from the lights.

You finally gave him a good once-over as he sat at Max's bedside—his messy hair, his pale face with newly acquired purple spots under his eyes, a small cut under his lip.

And for the first time since you'd known Steve, you watched as tears formed in his eyes.

You were quick to rush over to the other side of the bed, your hand splaying across his back and rubbing soft, small circles against his frame.

"Steve, I know this is a silly question to ask, because we both know the real answer, but seriously, are you okay?"

He knew he couldn't hide. Not any longer. So, he simply let the walls come down, croaking out a small, "No," through his flood of tears.

After crying into your shoulder and allowing himself to finally let go of everything he'd been holding in for all those years, he just simply held you.

Finally, after explaining everything—from the reason why he never told you about the Upside Down, to why he'd used Nancy and all those girls as a distraction from the person he really wanted—he just grabbed your face and kissed you. A sweet and tender kiss, not a desperate or lustful kiss, but a longing one—one he'd waited much too long to give you.

And somehow, even in the midst of all the bad stuff, even in the midst of Steve finally breaking, the two of you could finally find a way to maybe, just maybe, be okay for once. ❤️‍🩹

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

167 notes · View notes

toomanyacorns · 2 years

Text

Summer '86 @goditsmeagain

P L E A S E read the fanfic this is based on because it's art and I can't stop sobbing

Summary:

After everything that happened during Spring Break, life for everyone in Hawkins returned to somewhat normal. Well, aside from Steve's new friendship with one Eddie Munson.

The gang decide they all deserve a break and head to Steve's family beach house for a week, featuring copious amounts of fluff, found family bonding, blurring (or completely ignoring) the line between platonic and romantic, and bullying being considered flirting.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #stranger things s4 #steve harington #fix it fic #steddie fanart #steddie au #steddie fix it fic #stranger things fanart #fruity four #everyone is gay and so am i #ao3 #eddie munson fanart #steve harrington fanart

2K notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 12 days

Text

Continuing with the Guts project! I wanted to inform everyone that this project is not connected. Simply writing fics based on the songs, they do not overlap or tell a story together. I hope you enjoy this back-and-forth love/hate relationship. More Guts to come...

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring He argued with me about everything He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye He said he's six-foot-two, and I'm like, "Dude, nice try" But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end Another song, another club, another bar, another dance And when he said something wrong, he'd just fly me to France So I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed 'Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down

Y/N knew throughout all the time she and Eddie were together, there was no way it would last in the long run. He was a rockstar and lived in the spotlight. They hooked up after a show and before she knew it, it was happening again and again.

Somehow an actual relationship sparked and she was thrown into the life of dating someone famous. It was a wild rollercoaster that never seemed to end.

The late shows, and speeding through city after city. But the more she was around Eddie and his rockstar life, the more she realized she couldn't stand the guy.

Eddie had this massive ego because of the amount of money in his wallet. With his ego, he tends to believe he is right about everything. Argument after argument he declared his way was never wrong. He didn't kiss the girl, she fell into him. He didn't stare at the waitress, she had a spill on her low-cut shirt. Y/N could never win.

But there were positives to dating Eddie. The party life that she grew to enjoy. The loud music and busy bars. She met tons of other celebrities and became friends with a few. Eddie knew how to be the life of the party, and Y/N loved tagging along. They never saw the same bar twice, each day was a new bar or a new club.

And when Eddie truly fucked up, he knew exactly how to sweet talk himself back in the right. The gifts, the jewelry, and the trips. She got blinded by the lengths he'd go to make it right to realize he did everything but apologize. But hey, she made it to France.

Now that she finally pulled the plug, she couldn't tell if it was the right or wrong thing to do. Because some nights when she sat alone in her big bed and scrolled through the TV, she missed him. She missed being out and dancing the night away in his arms. But then she thinks about all the times he's made a pass at her friends and can't help but punch the spot he used to lay. He tugged her heart in so many directions and she didn't know which path to follow.

She couldn't tell if she loved or hated him anymore.

I wanna get him back I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad Oh, I wanna get him back 'Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad Oh, I want sweet revenge And I want him again I want to get him back, back, back

As the word spread that Eddie and Y/N were done, she had hundreds of messages. Some were friends asking how she was, and the others wanted to know when she was free to hook up.

And honestly? Right now she wanted to get Eddie back. She wanted to make him so jealous that he'd hate himself for the breakup. She wore her tightest and shortest dress, and used her best makeup products and her best heels. Then she went out the door to make Eddie's life hell.

She lost count of how many boys she kissed as the alcohol pumped through her body. Cameras flashed everywhere and she knew Eddie couldn't escape this. And she was right.

Barely took a full day before Eddie was pounding at her door.

"Can I help you?" She asked, a sick smirk on her face.

Eddie had her slammed against the door before she could blink. His hot hands burned her skin as he went up and down her body. Her small sleep shorts were at her ankles and his jeans were tugged down.

"Think you look hot whoring around town? Putting on a little show?" Eddie growled, his body banging hers into the door as he fucked himself inside of her.

She clawed at his back and moved her hips.

"If I wasn't so hot, you wouldn't be here right now." She added fuel to the fire. His fingertips bruised her skin and his teeth sunk into her neck. The way he fucked her like an animal was well worth the revenge.

"So you like being a little slut hm? Well, not anymore. No more letting guys taste what's mine."

His tongue fought against hers as she let him have her. And she let him have her for hours and hours. Until they landed in her bed, covered in sweat and panting.

She moved her tired body into his arms, her head on his damp chest, and traced his tattoos.

"I get sad when I miss you." She admitted into his skin. His fingers ran through her sweaty hair.

"I miss you too, I'm here now." He said sweetly as he cupped her jaw and kissed her slowly.

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash 'Cause I miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I'm hitting "Send" I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends Because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do He said I was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth And when I told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me I was trippin'

Before she knew it she was back under his spell. She tore her hair out as he didn't answer her calls. She knew this would happen. She'd crawl back to him and he'd disappear and make her crawl back again.

And there she was again, she lost count of how many times she sat typing the same message over and over. Claiming to be done, claiming to be worth so much more, and claiming to never see him again. But she never brought herself to send it because she didn't want to. She didn't want the reality of closing him off for good. She loved the way he kissed her and how hard he made her laugh. She loved it when he cared and put effort into her. If she gave up because of the bad, she lost the good.

So she did the opposite. She texted him and begged him to come back. She poured out her heart about the love she had for him and the happy ending she desperately clung on to.

But then she pictured all her friends and how disappointed they'd be that she was here again.

"I swear this is the last time I'll text him!" Y/N defended, she sat on her best friends bed. Her friend looked at her with a sad look.

"It's never the last time." A disapproving tone in her voice as she shut Y/N's phone off.

Her friends never liked Eddie and for valid reasons. The amount of times he cheated on Y/N was impossible to remember. She spent many nights crying in her friend's arms and drinking her relationship away. But when he'd tell her that she was truly the only girl he wanted and that he always found himself coming right back to her, it sucked her right back in. She felt wanted and needed. How could she leave that?

Oh, I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

Another fight ended in another round of tears. Y/N wasn't sure how many times Eddie could break her heart. A new magazine with a new girl on Eddie's arm. A smug look on his face, with lipstick on his neck. Y/N was done with her name being dragged in the mud.

With a few liquid shots of courage, Y/N sped over to Eddie's big house with his stupid expensive cars. She pounded in the gate code and then grabbed her car keys as it opened. She didn't care about the paparazzi or his security cameras. She wanted to get him back.

Y/N felt a rush of adrenaline running through her as she dragged her sharp key against the red paint on Eddie's car. The sound was unforgiving but she kept going. She keyed and keyed his car. She keyed until she felt satisfied with the damage she had done.

She keyed her initials on the hood.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?" Eddie yelled, a towel around his waist as he raced out of his car. Y/N could tell he was in the shower. His hair was wet and droplets dripped down his chest. But all she could think about was the skank he left with.

"YOU FUCKED ME UP! YOU MADE ME CRAZY. YOU CHEATING NO GOOD SCUMBAG!"

Luckily for her Eddie didn't press charges. Sadly, he was rich and got his car fixed by the morning. But she still felt good seeing it all across the front page.

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back) Stitch it right back up

Y/N wanted to drag Eddie back in so she could be the one to tear his heart apart. She wanted to break down his confidence until he was a shell of a man.

But then seeing him with puppy eyes and a pout broke her. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and put him back together again. She loved that she was the only one who knew how to fix him, it was her only advantage.

I wanna kiss his face (I want to get him back) With an uppercut

It's been weeks since Y/N has seen Eddie and the distance was killing her. She knew it was best to stay broken up, but every time she thought of him she wanted to kiss his skin. She wanted to be cuddled in his arms and feel his love moving inside of her.

But then she sees him with a new girl every week. The breakup did not fazing him as he lived his life the same way he always did. Nothing changed for him and she hated it.

She wanted to uppercut his jaw, bruise his eye, and bust his lip open.

I'll get him, I'll get him, I'll get him, I'll get him back Get him back, come on, come on I'm gonna get him so good, he won't even know what hit him He's gonna love me and hate me at the same time Get him back, girl, you better get him back I don't know I got him good, I got him really good

It took months, but Y/N figured out the best way to get back at Eddie, moving on.

Y/N finally healed herself from the attacks by Eddie and found someone new. A boy who truly cared and didn't spend all his time hurting her. He loved her, treasured her, and loved to show her off. He was in the public eye, but she didn't mind. For once she was being seen as someone loveable.

Eddie had a lot to say about their breakup to the press. Her moving on hit him hard and that was exactly what she wanted. He was so torn up about it that he hasn't been seen with anyone since.

He chased and chased but she never turned back around.

Finally, Eddie was in the past and that was where he would stay.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #rockstar eddie munson angst #rockstar eddie x reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #guts project #ashwhowrites

44 notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 10 months

Note

hi! Just wanted to ask what you’ve been reading lately? I love seeing your book recs! Also what are some of your favorite books ?

Hi :) I've read some disappointing stuff lately, so I decided to start two books from my to-read list that felt like safe bets—Samantha Shannon's A Day of Fallen Night and Elsa Morante's Lies and Sorcery. I'm enjoying both so far!

I've read interesting nonfiction this year—Empire of Pain, about the Sackler family; Erich Schwartzel's Red Carpet about the role of the movie business in cultural hegemony; and Laure Hillerin's biography of the Countess Greffulhe, who was a fascinating woman. She was the real-life model behind Proust's Duchess de Guermantes character, and a really influential figure in the arts & sciences in the early 1900s—she financed the first productions of Diaghilev's Ballets Russes, frequented Rodin's studio, helped Marie Curie find the funds to start her Radium Institute... It was a good read. I also read a biography of Anne Perry by Peter Graham, which was so-so—the story of the murder is morbidly fascinating but the way it was told had too many trivial details and not enough depth.

Worst nonfiction books of the year so far were Niall Ferguson's Doom: The Politics of Catastrophe which didn't seem to have any point to make, and François-Guillaume Lorrain's Scarlett which was marketed as a fascinating new look into the making of Gone With the Wind but actually the author just watched his DVD's behind-the-scenes bonus content and diluted it into 300+ pages of rehashed anecdotes, it was so pointless. I found it on the "Vos libraires vous recommandent !" shelf and now I feel betrayed by that bookshop.

As for fiction, I've enjoyed Ira Levin's A Kiss Before Dying, it felt very dated in a fun way, everything about it felt intensely 1950s. Was very disappointed by Silvia Avallone's Acciaio, I'd heard good things about it but it was so joyless and meh. Álvaro Enrigue's Ahora me rindo y eso es todo was a bit disappointing in the second half, but the first half was good so I'll try other books of his. Pierre Lemaitre's Miroir de nos peines was fun in an expected way—I mean those who enjoyed the beginning of his Au revoir là-haut trilogy will enjoy this one too as it's more of the same. And I also had a good time reading Catherynne Valente's Radiance— similarly if you already like her writing style you'll probably enjoy this book. (I was listening to this as I read it and it fit really well with the floaty-nostalgic-unearthly atmosphere of the book, it's always nice to accidentally find a good book-soundtrack that enhances the experience! Now I can never listen to it while reading again as it's too intertwined with that story.)

And I really liked Madame de Staël's Delphine but I wouldn't recommend it to just anyone, it's very 18th century (though it's from 1802). If you enjoy idle noblewomen writing each other 20-page-long letters in gorgeously long-winded 18th-century prose about how the Viscount of Something glanced at them from the other end of a salon and nothing else happened and now they're having agonies then you'll love this book, it's 900 pages of this. I can't get enough of it personally, and I found it hilarious that these aristocrats had such low-stakes problems considering the story starts in 1790. They didn't notice the Revolution, they were too busy writing tormented letters about extramarital glances.

Some books I've added to my kindle recently: Virginia Feito's Mrs. March, Simon Schama's Landscape & Memory (someone I follow on GR described it as "monstrously bloated" while the NYT blurb diplomatically calls it "a work of enormous scope" which made me laugh), Seyhmus Dagtekin's To the Spring, by Night, Margarita Liberaki's Three Summers, Maggie O'Farrell's The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox, Dawn Powell's A Time to Be Born.

This got long, sorry! You can have a look at my 5- and 4.5 star shelves on goodreads, for some of my favourite books of the past few years :)

#ask #book recs

221 notes · View notes

starlostseungmin · 2 years

Text

cruel summer, lover ─── a pillow in between.

masterlist. playlist.

✰ pairing — non-idol!lee know x fem!reader (with she/her as pronouns)

✰ genre — enemies to lovers trope, stuck together, romance, slight angst and humor, smut.

✰ warnings — profanity, kissing, explicit sexual content, soft dom!minho, unprotected sex, nipple/breast play, pet names, aftercare?? slight degrading, mentions of alcohol and clubbing, minors dni. lmk if i missed smth, not proofread.

✰ word count — 7.2k +

✰ songs that was used for inspiration — cruel summer by taylor swift, cool for the summer by demi lovato, wish you were sober by conan gray, know me too well by new hope club ft. danna paola and angel baby by troye sivan

REBLOGGING AND LEAVING A FEEDBACK WOULD BE APPRECIATED. NSFW CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT. mdni.

“Honestly, I wouldn't date you!”

“The same goes with you!”

“Don't waste such a fucking handsome lad like me Y/n”

“Can I be honest?”

“Go ahead,”

“Fuck you! You. Are. Not. My. Type.”

It started during high school and continued until the last year of college, it was always been you and Minho. Never a dull moment when you two started bickering, a comedic show that your friends enjoy. Profanity and bad gestures, death glares, and fuming faces, everyone got used to it. Anytime, anywhere, whenever you and Minho crossed paths, nothing changes. But everything needs to be put to a stop at the end, yet, it happened in an unusual way, or so you thought.

The fresh color blue welcomed your eyes as you glance at the window. Clouds were so white and thick, the sea waves were barely visible down below, it was the start of your summer. Loud noises from the plane’s engine died down the moment it landed on the runway and the hint of excitement on your face cannot hide it anymore. A vacation is all that matters right now, after a hectic week of spring classes, the university finally gave the cue for a break. Two weeks were settled, and a week will be spent at Jeju.

Your footsteps were heard as you make your way to the arrivals area dragging your suitcase and your backpack resting at the top. The fresh air swayed with your hair as the gentle sunlight illuminates the magnificent exterior. It made you smile and decided to take a few pictures for documentation, some would be useful for Instagram stories. The camera focus had to go sideways to execute a short video, but your brows knitted against each other when a familiar figure shows up out of nowhere. It was a prompt to end the filming as your hands fell, eyes focused on the person. Minho.

He was wearing an oversized black t-shirt, baby blue loose jeans, and white shoes, his purple locks falling above his eyes, one backpack strap hanging on his shoulder, and a black suitcase standing beside him. Minho looks so fucking good with it, but it can't hide that menace personality of his. Is he leaving or did he just arrive? What the fuck is he doing here anyway? You thought and he felt someone was staring at him as he was busy with his phone. His eyes immediately searched the area and landed on you. A smirk was formed on his lips, it’s been quite a while since the last time he saw you and still felt the same feelings. Hate.

“What are you staring at?” He asked.

“An asshole,” You snapped which made him laugh halfheartedly. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“You never changed Y/n, tsk,” He said shaking his head. “I’m here for a vacation, and you?”

“Likewise, but I hope not to see you around,” You roll your eyes as the smirk never left his face, shoving his phone inside the pocket of his jeans.

“Me either you nincompoop,” He said as his smile faded, breaking the gaze.

You roll your eyes again and waited for a taxi to come by wishing to disappear immediately. It was a fair afternoon, you promised to make yourself stress-free for the whole trip and sleep in the hotel when you arrive, but things doesn’t seem to go in your way when Minho pushed himself inside the taxi you waved your hand for.

“Thanks for the ride love,” He smirked before leaving making you groan in frustration.

“I hate that asshole,” You sighed in response and got another taxi instead.

Closing your eyes, you tried to manipulate a comfortable atmosphere after being pestered by someone you hate. Years have already passed yet you still felt the same way the moment you met him during high school. He was another usual student, you thought, he was always quiet and cold except when he was with his friends which became your circle of friends as well. Minho was warm inside when he gets sincere, but not everyone melts his heart, that includes you. It was strange, you didn’t know exactly why, but because he treats you that way, you learned to act like him. Even regretted that bright smile you gave him the first time you met when only a face of judgment was plastered all over his face as a response.

Scoffing at the thought, you opened your eyes to enjoy the scenery outside. The thoughts of Minho would ruin your vacation, all you need is space and alone time. It was a hotel where Chan used to tell stories about, a real estate that his aunt owns somewhere in Jeju. A week's vacation in their hotel just beside a fancy beach, the nightclub is open every Thursday 'til Saturday, two swimming pools, one on the ground floor and one on the rooftop, and free access to breakfast and spa. You were all hyped up when he said he would try to make a reservation for you. He’s the type to keep his promises and gave you details a week later. Everything was settled and you were going to stay there for a week, with a minimum fee after his aunt decided to give a discount out of nowhere. It was a bit strange.

A sigh escaped from your lips, glancing at the front. Minho’s taxi was just ahead of you, taking the same direction as to where you were heading to. The hotel was already in sight, the view of the blue waters kilometers away shines after a short while on the road. Rays of Sunshine made sparkles, and birds fly high above it. It was nature friendly, and the excitement riles up from the minimum, but the sight of Minho getting off at the same destination tried to fade that smile of yours. Why is he taking the same hotel when there are other hotels around? It was reasonable enough that Chan must’ve mentioned it to him, all you just hoped is not having the same floor.

You paid for the ride and took off, Minho was heading to the front desk as you followed him from behind. The interior of the hotel was even fancier than the brochure. White walls and baby blue curtains, high ceilings with a magnificent chandelier in the middle, statues of angels, different types of flowers enveloped the entrance to the pathway, grand stairs, and doric columns, your eyes sparkled at the sight. Too immersed in the view, you didn’t notice his figure ahead and stumbled upon his back, breaking your fantasy with a grunt from him.

“Are you following me?” He asked acting scared the shit out of his dear life the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“Don’t set your high hopes on me, the last thing I want to do is to get involved with you,” You snapped as he rolled his eyes.

“Sure, whatever,” He said as he started talking to the staff. “Room reservation under Lee Minho please,”

You roll your eyes in response as you waited at the back. Crossing your arms, you went back to admiring the interior again. An aesthetically pleasing view for an architect major like you, but waiting for him to finish his reservation talk leads to impatience.

“I’m sorry but I only reserved it for myself, I didn’t put any names in the application form.” He said as that caught your attention.

“But it indicates from the form that the hotel website received is you’re with Ms. (y/l/n) (y/f/n).” The staff said which made both of your eyes widen in shock.

“Excuse me?” You asked, getting in between the conversation. The staff’s eyes landed on you as they smiled at you. “I heard my name, what’s this all about?”

“Can I have your IDs please?” They asked.

“Why would I room with someone I don’t like?” Minho asked as you took out your identification card from your wallet.

“The same goes with me, I asked Chan to make me a reservation,” You snapped, giving it to the staff.

“Good for you, I applied myself alone,” Minho sighed in frustration. “How did this happen?” He added, handing his ID.

“The form was from you Mr. Lee since it is your email that was used, Ms. (y/l/n)’s name is also being indicated during the application,” The staff answered, showing the monitor of their computer. You leaned closer to read, you never filled anything since Chan said he got your back. Minho was also complacent about the form he submitted.

“I didn’t type her name on it,” Minho defended.

“This is already reserved and you even paid for it, if you wish to have separate rooms, we cannot give you a vacant one as of the moment because we are packed,” The staff explained, as you had to reread everything from the top to bottom.

“I think Chan messed up my reservation,” You said, gaining back your composure with a palm on the forehead for getting a headache, unable to process everything.

“No, he messed up MY reservation,” Minho hissed underneath his breath.

“How so?” You asked as he glared at you.

“I was filling up the form using his laptop saying he’d be the one to submit it to the site, he paid half because it is his aunt’s fucking hotel, he probably typed your name under the ‘other guest’ list, fuck it,” He said when you facepalm and reached for you phone to type his number.

“It will be a waste if you don’t take it, this reservation is up for the whole week,” The staff added.

“Can you just give us a refund?” Minho asked

“I’m sorry Sir, but as per the hotel’s policy, we strictly don’t offer refunds,”

Minho sighed harshly trying not to lose it, he rested his forehead on the desk grabbing his hair in frustration. Chan wasn’t picking up his phone and it’s driving you nuts as well, you were doubtful that the money he asked from you was half of the payment for the reservation. The staff was also acting a little bit weird as per your senses but that wasn’t the issue. Going to be roommates with Minho is like living in hell, you were already living a hellish life on land, how much more like it to be with him. The one you hate the most is going to be stuck with you the whole week.

“Fine, we’ll take it,” He said after a few moments of silence.

“What?” You asked, being bewildered. “I can’t just spend an entire week with you?”

“Babe, if you don’t want it, you can leave, I will have it all for myself, even the money you paid, it’s not a big deal,” He smirked.

“That’s not fair,” You scoffed.

The staff was right as you would agree, it would be a waste of money and opportunity to reject a vacation. You can survive a week with him, just focus on your routines, you thought. It is a rare experience to come to Jeju and enjoy the company, except for the man standing beside you.

“It’s not fair, I know, but up to you,” He shrugged. “Give me the keys and room number please,” He smiled at the staff, leaving you dumbfounded.

“Have a wonderful stay Sir,” The staff smiled at him and offered the keycard with the room number with it. He fled for the elevator as you stayed with the staff. Thoughts running across your mind, filling in with a debate whether to pursue him or not. Your next flight for the round trip is scheduled for next week and looking for a hotel after dark would be a struggle. His figure started to fade from your sight making you contemplate a decision.

“Fuck, fine, I’ll go,” You said. “Do you have extra keycards?” You asked the staff who was watching the two of you.

“I gave him two just in case you’d change your mind,” They smiled as another sigh escaped from your lips and ran to catch him.

“Minho!” You called as you enter the elevator.

“Have a romantic stay you two!” The staff teased as both of your figures vanished in their sight by the time the doors closed. You heard it loud and clear, but Minho just laughed it out, while you were not pleased.

“Hello you,” He smirked. “What made you change your mind?”

“None of your business, give me the other keycard.” You said as he gave you the other one.

Snatching it away from his hand, the boy just laughed at your frustration. He loves seeing you suffer in some ways. The hotel was 25 floors high, and your room is on the 19th floor. A long ride in the elevator made the atmosphere awkward. Minho became quiet after the small talk, tightening his grip on the handle of his suitcase as you stood beside him, staring at your reflection by the door, aimlessly.

You followed him outside as he lead you to the room.

“I can’t believe I’m spending an entire week with you,” You sighed in disappointment.

“Your loss if you won’t,” He said giving you his usual smile but it was teasing you. A sound was heard from the door indicating its opened. Minho slipped a card inside the hotel card switch and opened the lights only to make you more annoyed.

“It’s not losing–only one bed?!” You exclaimed the moment you saw the extension of the interior which made him drag his attention to you.

“What are you talking about?” He asked as his eyes landed solely on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. “Oh, fuck,” He hissed, closing his eyes in frustration.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” You said, taking your luggage and proceeding to the closet to have your things placed.

“You don’t want to share the bed with me and cuddle?” He smirked.

“No, fuck you!” You snapped at him.

“Sure, I’ll fuck you hard then,” He said still carrying that teasing smile of his as you smacked his arm.

“I hate you so much, just wait until the week is over I’m not going to see you again! Ever!” You exclaimed at him.

“Likewise, but don’t sleep on the bed, it’s uncomfortable, just put a pillow in between us or whatever, I’m using the bathroom,” He said, leaving his things unattendedーgoing away. You just stood there in front of the closet, clothes rested in your hands, sighing at the thought.

“It’s a cruel summer indeed,”

Night fell, and you decided to leave the room to take a stroll down to the swimming pool on the ground floor as Minho took the whole room by himself to sleep. It was a tiring day for you, disaster followed. But despite the tragedy, it can’t break the fact that the place is ethereal, minus your unexpected roommate. Your footsteps just encircled the pool, walking around made you at peace, especially when it was the evening. The moon was high and bright as it reflected the blue waters of the pool. It caught your attention, a beautiful distraction from exhaustion.

You decided to sit down, soaking your legs in the cold blue liquid. Lights flashed gently and the sounds of them became more relaxing. It was peaceful without your phone. Minho had to struggle waking up from his deep slumber after it blasted your weird ringtone, a chorus of a song. An irritated groan escaped from his lips as his hands searched for the noisy device at the side table. No luck, he sat up with messy hair, drowsy eyes, and a hint of annoyance to find your phone.

“Damn, Y/n, why did you leave it here?!” He hissed, snatching your phone laying on the other side of the bed. His eyes scanned the screen only to find out Chan was calling you. “Fuck, you finally showed up.” He grumbled, swiping the answer button.

“Hello?” Chan’s voice echoed.

“Eyy~ what’s up? I know that you did us dirty,” Minho's voice was heard making Chan laugh.

“Ya, why do you have Y/n’s phone? I was going to apologize for not taking their calls this afternoon,” Chan answered as Minho smirked in response.

“She went out without her phone,” He sighed. “I’m sharing a room and a bed with her, thanks a lot.” But Chan only laughed even harder. “Does this seem funny to you?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan’s laugh faded.

“Yeah, whatever, if you’re looking for her then call her later. I’m in our room and I don’t know where she went, too dumb to leave her phone. I don’t care anymore, I–” Minho said but was cut off when Chan sighed at the end of the line.

“Look, I didn’t do this to make your relationship grow even worse. It’s been a while since high school Minho, makeup with Y/n,” Chan said.

“Why should I?” Minho said, firmly holding your phone pressed against his ear. “She doesn’t like me, she hates me.”

“You said you feel different, why are you acting like this?” Chan asked. “This is the only way I can help you two, I can’t have you hate each other for life, Minho.” The latter fell into silence after that, closing his eyes, he took a deep sigh, licked his lips, and took a glance at the empty side of the bed with a book you read an hour ago left unattended.

“I’ll tell her that you called when she comes back, good night hyung,” Minho said changing the subject before dropping the call. Chan wasn’t able to say something, the younger one’s heart was too hard to manipulate.

Minho’s back pressed against the mattress, hands covering his face before a sigh came out of his mouth. He stared at the while ceiling before glancing at your phone’s screen. It was a picture of you, so beautiful even if you were just wearing your pajamas with an oversized white shirt, smiling at the camera. It made his heart beat but he couldn’t bear the fact that he hates how he feels, and how you feel towards him. Hate, it was all hate.

It started as a joke during your junior year of high school. He loves being a menace, but his joke was taken too seriously that it hurt his feelings. You didn’t like him as much as he didn’t like you, but Minho did have a soft spot for the people he cared for. He lied a few times, not everyone melts his heart, he said, you made it pound. A moment that rarely comes, the feeling he longed for.

“Honestly, I wouldn't date you!” That was the one he said, a joke that wanted to annoy the hell out of you. A way of taking your attention, a coping mechanism from the hurtful truth that you won’t ever return how much he feels for you.

“The same goes with you!” A response that he thought was just the usual answer to an insult.

“Don't waste such a fucking handsome lad like me Y/n” A teasing backfire that he half-meant.

“Can I be honest?”

“Go ahead,”

“Fuck you! You. Are. Not. My. Type.” It felt like a dagger pierced his chest.

It was so vivid, a memory he had a few years ago still chases him. A matter of his heart that he couldn’t take it off of his body. He tried to sympathize and leave it behind after graduation but college drew him back when he knew you were attending the same university. Fate exists, but it’s not for everyone. The thought of it was childish, a simple scenario that some experience in their lives, but he’s beating himself because of it. Even the hating game pursues, he couldn’t get the shit out of loving you. Everyone knew, except you, Chan already made a move but he won’t budge, a headstrong young lad can’t get out of the verge of moving on and made a resort of hating you as a cover of pain.

Minho left the bed to change his clothes and wore his perfume and an Apple watch. He won’t be able to sleep again. The thought of you would mess it up, thanks to Chan as well. That was the time you came back from outside. The door opened gently, revealing the guy who was wearing a black long-sleeved oversized polo with a white shirt inside, and black pants, his piercings were matching, a cross hanging on the right side, he was so handsome. Your eyes had to check the fit, one that would make you fall on the floor never denied he is good-looking.

“Are you done checking me out?” He asked, gaining back your attention to his face.

“You wish,” You retorted. “Where are you going?”

“Clubbing,” He said. “By the way, Chan hyung called on your phone, call him back,”

“You used my phone without permission?” You asked, knitting your brows.

“Your phone was fucking loud, it woke me up,” He snapped. “And that annoying ringtone of yours. Anyway, I’m leaving, call me when you feel lonely,” He added with a wink and left you scoffing in response.

“What the hell was that?” You asked shaking your head before storming inside the room.

It was delicate to spend your time alone, no Minho pestering you around, the pool was good from earlier and the comfort of the novel you were reading at the moment was endearing. A dream vacation you always thought about but you knew this peace will end up pretty soon. Quiet and solemn, a night of deep thoughts. Chan engaged in a conversation and apologized throughout the call, saying he’d make it up to you when both you and Minho get back. Never mentioned anything about what he told the latter. It was good, can’t change what is going on and accepted your fate. A week with him wouldn’t be so bad, you wish.

1 am, the book was down to its last page. No book to read anymore, sucks to bring only one. You couldn’t sleep even when you were so exhausted from all that had happened. Minho was still on the rooftop, unknown what time would he want to come back. You stood up from the window seat, wanting to get a rest but speaking of the devil, he managed to get in time, drunk when he scanned the keycard on the lock. He couldn’t even stand straight and walk properly.

“Y/n~~” He cooed as you rushed towards him.

“What took you so long?” You asked, assisting him to the bed, an arm around your shoulder and your arm around his waist for support. “It’s so late,”

“Come on, it’s not every day I can go out clubbing!” He whined.

“Still, you’re wasted,” You said making him sit on the bed but his body fell on the mattress, taking off his shoes, and tossing them on the floor.

“Live a life,” He said and went unconscious. A sigh escaped your lips as you tucked him in. The smell of his perfume and alcohol made it intoxicating, it was strong but bearable enough to avoid sinful thoughts. You sat down beside him, staring at his peaceful figure and fixing the messy bangs that cover his eyes.

“I like you better when you’re sleeping, I hate it when you’re awake just to make fun of me,” You whisper as you caress his purple locks. He hums in response to your touch, it was comforting but he was unaware of it.

“Hmm, why do you hate me so much Y/n?” You stayed silent as he talk in his sleep. Something unexpected for him to say. “I like you so much that it hurts me until now…”

Eyes still on him, frozen on your seat, contemplating what to do in response. It was so out of the blue but your lips meet his forehead. A sweet gesture of feelings you hid to illuminate the hate. Minho liked you for so long, but the hating phase brought you here, confused. You wanted to wake up without the memory of this one. Heart pounding crazily, you wanted it to stop. A smile forehead kiss didn’t help you, but it was effective for him to fall into a deep slumber.

Trying to brush off the thought, your hand reached for a pillow and placed it between you and Minho. The empty side of the bed was yours as you lay down, taking half of the duvet to doze off. Everything will be forgotten in the morning, you hoped.

Rays of sunshine through the transparent window as it peeks into the small gap of the curtains and a hint of wind blows with it. You were still fast asleep and Minho shifted his position, dazed at how he ended up here. He felt the pillow beside him and saw your sleeping figure next to it facing his direction. His cold stare and knitted brows faded, you were beautiful as always as his hand wanted to reach out to touch your cheek but he had to hold himself together. Only a gentle sigh escaped from his lips, taking his time to get out of the bed carefully.

You felt his movements and heard the bathroom door open and closed. The first whole day spent with him and being stuck together is full of surprises. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, it was past 10, how could I sleep so much? Slapping yourself back to reality, it was pretty late for breakfast, Minho was hoarding the bathroom and you got impatient. A sigh escaped your lips as you waited for him, the scene from last night suddenly appeared in your mind. It wasn't an offense, rather it was sweet–wishing Minho was sober when he said that. You shake your head with a disappointed smile on your face, it’s not the time to think about it that way. A mistake.

He left the bathroom 30 minutes later. He was all dressed up for the day but his purple locks were still wet as the water dripped down from his bangs to his forehead. A towel in his hand, trying to dry them off, you just stared at him. Contemplating on inviting him to eat, you hoped he wouldn't react dramatically. He was busy anyway.

“Say, do you want to get brunch together?” You asked, finally. He stopped drying his hair, tossed the towel over his shoulder, and grabbed his hair product.

“Did something happen to you? It’s a miracle you’d invite me to eat with you,” He said, styling his hair as you roll your eyes.

“You can say no if you don’t want to, I can manage to go alone,” You retorted which made him chuckle.

“I wasn’t going to refuse,” He said. “It’s your turn to use the bathroom,”

“Thanks,” You said quietly and stood from the bed, taking your way to the bathroom. But there he goes again, the intoxicating smell of his, but this was more fragrant than last night. You smirked at yourself closing the door behind you, it was dumb to play it cool when you literally have something going on. It was driving you nuts, the smell, his way of fashion, that handsome face of his, not to mention the book you were reading was about enemies to lovers trope. “When’s this vacation going to end?”

You and Minho ended up at the restaurant up to the 22nd floor, food on the table as you sit across from each other. It was fancy, everything was to your liking, except for the awkward atmosphere you were having with him. Silence enveloped the both of you, only the murmurs of audible conversations of the other people and the banging of utensils to the dishes were heard. You were too shy to say something, and Minho seems too busy with his food to give a shit.

“Do you have something to do today?” Minho asked not taking his eyes off the steak.

“What?” You asked back, looking at him.

“I asked if you’re going to do something today,” He repeated meeting your gaze with his cold eyes.

“Nothing, really,” You answered quietly. “And you?”

“No idea, probably go clubbing again later,” He said as you sighed in response.

“Since when did you like clubbing?” You asked again, as he drink his glass of sparkling water.

“Since the moment you said I’m not your type,” He smirked leaving you dumbfounded. “I’m done with the meal, see you around,” He added wiping his lips and taking his dishes to take off.

Another sigh escaped your lips after his figure vanished into thin air, it took you a while to leave the place to space out. He’s really unbelievable, avoiding you and being rude, a menace to have your heart pound so suddenly. You weren’t expecting to feel it, but one more confession from him will make you lose it. You thought he hated you so much the first time, you thought he just acted that way because he doesn’t like everything about you, yet it wasn’t always like that. You didn’t know, you don’t know anything.

Night fell and Minho is up to the club again as you stroll by the beach alone. You could see the dancing lights on from the hotel’s rooftop. It was beautiful, how much more when you were in it. But you dislike clubbing, getting in once made you regret it. Being drunk is not your thing, even the smell of alcohol and the suffocating crowd. Minho knows that, and you know he’s not the type to go clubbing. He lied about it, saying he wasn’t your type was done years ago. It became a blur but it was clear for him to remember.

You tried to brush off everything and walk peacefully by the shore, but the lights coming from the top of the building keeps bothering you, and the thought of Minho getting drunk again is something to be your concern. A frustrated grunt escaped your lips as you drag yourself back to the room. A black dress that falls above the knee was reserved for a fancy occasion, it has thin straps and fitting, that shows the beautiful form of your body. Black high heels and silver earrings, pink lipstick, and hair that falls naturally, it’s been a quite while since the last time you dressed up like this.

It wasn’t the best feeling, but you managed to pull it off. You loved how you look but this won’t last long, you needed to drag him out of that place or stop him from getting drunk again. The lights welcomed you when the elevator’s door opened, the loud music was banging inside your ears, walking through the crowd as you look for him. The intoxicating smell of mixed alcohol, perfume, and smoke makes you want to vomit, you hated it so much. But why do if it’s Minho, you didn’t feel anything? You made your way through a bunch of laughing and drinking groups of people. Some of them were already making out on the couch, a few were bold enough to find a private place to have sex, it wasn’t new.

“Hi, are you alone?” A stranger asked who suddenly appeared in front of you.

“What?” You asked again because of the loud music.

“I asked if you’re alone,” The stranger smirked. “Do you want to spend time with me?” It added, dragging themself closer to you.

“Fuck off! She’s with me,” Someone said wrapping their arm around your shoulder glaring at the stranger, pulling you away. It was Minho, with a glass of strong liquor in a hand. “What are you doing here?” He asked, taking it all in one gulp.

“I wanted to see your place,” You said rolling your eyes. “And how many glasses did you take already?” You asked again taking the glass off his hand and placing it back on the counter.

“Hmm, I don’t know, 8?” He laughed as he made you sit with him by the counter. “I thought you hate the club?”

“I got bored in the hotel room, and don’t worry I’m not going to stay longer if you don’t like me in here,” You retorted, ordering the same alcoholic beverage as you crossed your arms.

“I’m not complaining,” He said tossing his hands up in the air for surrender.

“Whatever floats your boat, Lee Minho,” You forced a smile before the bartender could hand your drink. The boy just scoffed, not getting that dumb smile off of his face. He was tipsy, for now, one that gives hint for you to be worried. You just didn’t want him to be alone in a place like this, you didn’t know what caused the spark.

You fell into silence as you drink while he takes everything in one gulp, “Hey, don’t drink recklessly!”

“I’m just enjoying my time, Y/n,” He said with a hic in between.

“Stop it right there,” You retorted when he took another shot. “Fuck it, Minho,” You added taking the glass off his hand, asking the bartender not to take orders from him again. He was left dumbfounded and that’s when the time someone approached him. A pretty girl who was probably the same age as you. Minho noticed them and smirked.

“Hey there,” He said wrapping his arm around their waist.

“Oh my gosh, no,” You muttered to yourself the moment you heard it. The girl was flirting with him and you could see that dumb smile on his face, not leaving it. You fell into disgust, one that sparked something inside you to move. Jealousy.

He was flirting back, rubbing his hands on their waist as they talk about something you can’t relate to. It was like a meter of distance when you walked towards him, crashing your lips on his to push the girl away. He couldn’t believe it, and neither do you. It made his heart pound, and the other one left in disgust. Minho kissed your lips back, pulling you closer to sit on his lap. That wasn’t part of the plan, you couldn’t stop either way. His lips tasted the same as the liquor, strong and sweet at the same time. An intoxicating addiction that came out of nowhere.

Your tongue collided with his as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. He’s definitely drunk and you were sober, but you’re acting like a drunk. His hand placed on your thigh drawing small circles that caused you to stop, and locked eyes with him. Cheeks started to turn red, a fluttering moment of blooming love confession. A subtle description of how much he loved it and you wanted more. It was stupid at first, but the taste of his lips made it different. His eyes fell on your lips, it was pink and luscious as your lipgloss tinted his own.

“I’m sorry,” You said.

“Why did you stop?” He asked eyes turning dark.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You asked, being embarrassed when you realized you were on his lap. “I’m getting off now,” You added and was about to stand up when he pulled you back.

“No,” He said. “You should know how much I’ve been waiting for this,”

You bit your lower lip as you kissed him again, Minho hummed in response as he pulled you closer again. His hand rested on one side of your cheek as the other one supported your back. Your fingers played with his purple locks, giving him licking kisses. He smirked in between them, a teasing bite of your lips made you whine, and heavy breaths followed as his hand started caressing your thigh again. His lips traveled down to your neck, leaving wet kisses as you throw your head back with a mewl coming out from your mouth. He didn’t want to stop, all he wanted was to do you right now. But not without your permission of course, yet, he wanted you so badly.

His lips reached on your collarbone, slowly sliding the straps of your dress off of your shoulder. You knew where is this going, intimate. “You smell so good, I want to taste you,”

“Not here,” You answered, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Do you want it?” He asked playing with your hair.

“Please?” You pleaded when his stare turned even darker, full of lust as an evil smirk formed on his lips.

“Fuck,�� He chuckled. “I’m going to make you feel good baby girl,”

You didn’t realize how fast everything was moving until you reached your room, with Minho locking the door behind him. His lips got impatient that they met yours the moment he pinned you up against the wall. Your hands hurried to take off his coat, lips didn’t leave each other as they molded to share torrid kisses. His hands started to squeeze your ass to pull you even closer as his lips fell back on your neck again, earning a moan from you.

“Fuck,” He hissed, biting your neck and licked the mark. You tried managed to take off your heels in a hurry as unbuckled his belt, tossing them on the sides not caring where they went. His body pressed your figure hard against the wall, fingers played with the straps of your dress until they became undone, and slipped them off to show your chest. “So beautiful,” He said before taking your nipple inside his mouth, sucking and nipping the skin.

“Shit! Ohーfuck!” You shivered under his touch. It was already driving you crazy enough to let out a sinful sound. He left your nipple wet with his saliva before turning to the other one, sucking it and twirling his tongue around. A hand slipped between your thigh feeling the wetness of your clothed core, he bit your nipple in response.

“You’re so wet for me doll,” He said as his lips brushed against yours.

“Take everything off,” You retorted, kissing him again. Minho slipped your dress off of you as it fell unattended on the floor with his pants and black shirt. He carried you all the way towards the bed, not breaking the sloppy kisses you’ve shared. You felt your back encounter the soft mattress as he hovered above you. His kisses traveled down from your lips to your jaw, back on the neck where his bite screamed red, licking the valley of your breast and leaving wet kisses on your stomach, until he reached the hem of your panties, dragging it off of your legs being welcomed by your wetness.

“Spread it for me, love,”

Your legs parted their own, unable to think straight, you just wanted to get railed by him as he took off the last piece of clothing he had before pressing the tip of his cock against your clit. Brows knitted together as you watch him driving you crazy, and you rubbed your wetness on it. He leaned closer to you, hand squeezing your boob before sliding himself inside slowly which made you let out a beautiful sinful sound that was so good in his ears. Eyes rolled back as he held both of your hands, pressing them together above your head and intertwining your fingers together. He kissed your forehead before pressing an intimate kiss on your lips before thrusting himself inside you.

It was sweet, his gestures made your heart pound, his actions driving you crazy as you tightened the grip on his hands. Minho picked up his fast pace as you moaned against his lips. Heavy breathing accompanied the sensual moment, he made sure to be gentle as ever. He didn't want to ruin the first time does it with you. You were so small below him, a moaning mess yet so beautiful to watch when you say his name when he gets faster. His member tightens your walls, sucking it deeper as he goes in and out. You couldn't think straight anymore, he loves the sound you make, he loves the sight of you being a mess. Everything about you, he waited for so long, he wouldn't let this moment slip. Sober or not, both of you wanted it the moment you kissed him in the rooftop club.

His lips met your nipple again as he started to suck and nip the skin. Your hands finally free from his grip as the other one played with your other breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as your finger dug deeper on his back, scratching them in response to his pace. He went faster than before and made you scream his name, his lips never left your breast, he loves them so much. Tears started to form in your eyes as you reached your high. Minho was proud, he doesn't want to stop fucking you.

“Baby, I’m close… fuck!” You whined under him.

“Shhh,” He said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before allowing you both to release. You were breathing heavily as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, hugging him.

“Are you okay?” You asked, playing with his purple locks.

“Hmm,” He hummed in response. “Do you still hate me?”

“You made me hate you,” Minho locked eyes with you as he smiled softly, kissing your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” He said, disappointment surfacing in his eyes. “Do you want to wash up? I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I–” But he was cut off when you kissed him again.

“Don’t say it,” You said. “I’m sorry that I hated you so much before, I just didn’t know why you didn't like me the first time.”

“That was my fault, I wish I told you sooner that I–”

“You like me?” You smiled. “You were drunk when you said it,”

“Shit,” Minho laughed and went back to bury his face again on your neck. “I’m embarrassed,”

“It’s not embarrassing when I feel the same way, but I do,” You said as he looked at you again before giving a prolonged kiss on your lips. “I love you,” You inserted in between the kiss.

“I love you too, don’t hate me again okay?” He chuckled before pulling away.

“Why would I when I already told you that I love you?” You laughed in response when he just shrugged.

“Let’s wash up now, yes?” He said leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Hmm,” You hummed as he carried you in bridal style, leading to the bathroom’s bathtub. A rose-scented bubble bath with a few candles being lit up was so relaxing. Minho went in first as you sat with your back against him. His arms wrapped around you, with his chin resting on your shoulder. “Do you want to tell the boys about this?”

“I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you and me,” He said, kissing your bare shoulder. “We’ll tell them when we get back, okay? I want to spend the rest of the week quietly with you.”

You felt his lips on the side of your head as you looked at him with a smile, “Just the two of us for the rest of the week?”

“No one else,” He smiled before capturing your lips again.

REBLOGGING AND LEAVING A FEEDBACK WOULD BE APPRECIATED.

2K notes · View notes