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missmeinyourbones · 2 months

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AURORA BOREALIS GREEN

cw: non sorcerer au, college au, enemies to lovers (?) neighbors to lovers, miscommunication trope if you squint (I AM SORRY), reader e to as she/her once, reader wears heels, some light sexual content (dry humping nation rise)

wc: 10k+

There's something wrong with your upstairs neighbors.

You've never met them, not face to face at least, but between the times you've hit your ceiling with the end of your broom and the audacity they have to continue to be as rowdy as they are, something isn't right with them. You're sure of it.

And you're not naive to the fact that your apartment building is filled with young people, either currently in college or just freshly graduated. You're no prude to the dulled sound of late-night party playlists or squeaky bed frames muffled by plaster.

But your neighbors aren't guilty of these typical noise complaints. No, they're borderline much worse.

The majority of their crimes take place in the day, believe it or not, which makes it all the more frustrating when you actually have shit to do. When it's not boyish yells of victory and frustration, it's footsteps that sound like a herd of elephants (how many people can live in an apartment floor plan for two?). They're relentless upstairs neighbors to have, and though you couldn't pick their faces out of a crowd if you tried, you're sure their lack of etiquette spans across other areas of their lives.

The tiny clock at the top of your computer blinks a mocking 11:38 AM as you try to study through the sounds of excited stomping and rowdy gibberish.

You don't know what makes today so different, whether it's the burnt coffee beans you can taste lingering in your usual order from the cafe across the street or the organic chemistry study guide practically laughing at you as you review your hieroglyphic notes for tomorrow's test.

Whatever is in the water has you feeling braver than usual, and instead of reaching for the conveniently placed broom in the corner of your kitchen, you find yourself stomping your way down the hall and up the staircase.

The sixth floor is identical to the fifth — you don't know why it wouldn't be, but you've never put much thought into it — so it's no surprise that your feet find no trouble in naturally bringing you to a door equivalent to yours just a floor below.

Your knuckles wrap against the wood with three unfriendly knocks, and the joyous buzzing from inside the apartment instantly comes to a lull. You think you hear panicked whispers from the other side, almost as if the culprits are debating on answering or not. You take their choice away when you knock three more times.

After a moment, you hear the clicking of the lock and the fiddling of the doorknob. You take a deep breath to ground yourself, put on your best customer service voice, and prepare to calmly tell these entitled frat boys to shut the fuck up when—

You're ironically met with the prettiest green eyes you think you've ever seen.

A tall brunette stands before you, about your age, and wearing a look that's both confused and embarrassed. Your eyes quickly flicker across his face in the span of mere seconds, logical thoughts going out the window and now replaced with amazement at how stupidly attractive he is.

Though you knocked on his door, he speaks first.

"Hi...?" He clears his throat, looking behind you in the hallway, almost as if you have the wrong room.

His confusion annoys you, and you suddenly remember why you're here in the first place.

"Look, I really don't wanna be a bitch," you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "but what could you possibly be doing in this apartment that sounds like an actual full-out brawl on a Wednesday morning?"

Obliviously handsome neighbor's face goes a bit pink and his jaw slacks as he stutters, looking for either a shitty excuse or a polite explanation of the truth.

He opens the door a bit more, gesturing to the living room behind him. You spare a glance to where another guilty suspect stares back at you with big brown eyes and a smirk. There's some video game paused on the screen, ridden with animated blood and a scoped weapon's perspective.

Your attention is brought back to the one holding the door when he mumbles, "I think it's our game."

A bit dumbfounded at his lame answer, you blankly stare at him.

"Your... game?"

Brown Eyes yells from the couch, "Call of Duty!"

As if on instinct, Green Eyes closes the door a bit, shielding you from his roommate and shaking his head in exasperation. He clears his throat awkwardly, "Sorry, are you—?"

You're suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you've been staring at how long his fucking eyelashes are. He's anything but sore on the eyes, but again, you try to remind yourself that he and his roommate make your life difficult at least five out of seven days of the week.

"I live below you," you huff behind a swallow, "and you really don't make it easy."

He nods dumbly, finally realizing the connection behind your visit. "Oh, right."

You scoff and nod your head. For someone as pretty as him, he's a bit thick in the head.

Biting your cheek, you begin to walk away from the door without completely ending the conversation. As you're turning to leave, he hears you call out from down the corridor.

"If you could just — not play video games like eleven-year-old boys," your tone is filled with annoyance, "that'd be great."

You don't need to turn around to know that the stranger at the door is apologetic and nodding in compliance. Before he can fully shut the door, you hear a quip from his counterpart on the couch.

"She told you, bro."

As the door shuts, you hear the muffled hiss from the other. "You're the one making noise, dipshi—"

…..

Your threatening conversation must have worked to some degree, because it's been almost two days without any sort of annoyance from your upstairs neighbors. You think you almost take it for granted, the way you can study without headphones and enjoy a movie in the living room rather than in your bed with the speaker on high.

The walk back from your class is usually about twenty minutes, but it's closer to fifteen today as you're quicker when it comes to getting out of the cold.

Your chemistry test went alright — maybe not your best work but okay enough that you passed. And that's all you care about as you make your way back to your apartment, intending to crash in your bed and not move for the next few hours.

The winter air leaves a chill up your spine as you swipe into your building and press the elevator button. Your nose runs a bit from the cold as it sits against your knit scarf. Bag on your arm and half-consumed coffee, you can't wait to enjoy a day or two without thinking about covalent bonds and isomers.

You close your eyes and release a sigh as the elevator door begins to close, but before it gets the chance to do so successfully, quick footsteps and a hand jammed between the closing space prompt the doors to reopen.

Not really paying attention to the stranger joining your 30-second elevator ride, you simply step to the side to make more room for them.

It's not until they make eye contact with you that you realize it's your neighbor, the same one you'd borderline terrorized a few days ago for being irritating.

He's out of breath from catching the lift last minute, lungs still adjusting from the crisp air from outside. His jacket is zipped all the way up to his collar and his hair pokes out in spiky tuffs from beneath his hat.

He mumbles out a weak "sorry" before his eyes find the floor and the rickety door shuts, leaving the two of you alone in the suddenly very small space.

You'd cuss beneath your breath if you weren't close enough for him to hear it.

What's the acceptable thing to do in this scenario? You mentally weigh out your options. Sit in an awkward silence? Introduce yourself as if your encounter never even happened? Address the fact that you banged on his door a few days ago and insulted him as a first impression?

You choose the silence. If anything, you silently pray that behind your winter apparel and the lack of eye contact, he doesn't even recognize you.

But that thought goes to shit when you see that he's already pressed the fifth-floor button for you.

You swear the ride to your floor has never been this slow. Seconds feel like hours as you watch the digital number rise like paint drying on a wall. The elevator almost laughs at you as it stops on the third floor and opens itself to find no one there; you curse whoever decided to press the button before changing their mind and taking the stairs.

After what seems like forever, your floor finally flashes on the pixelated screen, and as you feel the elevator come to a stop—

The doors don't open.

You think it's just your dramatic prolonged sense of time until it's been about ten seconds and still, nothing. Just the two of you in a stopped elevator with doors that won't unlock.

You've never been one to believe in karma, but you can't help but think this is the universe punishing you for standing up for yourself. You are quite literally on your floor, a mere sliding door away from the embarrassing situation you got yourself in, but still, nothing happens.

He presses the button meant to prompt open the doors a few times with slight force.

"It does this, sometimes," he weakly coughs out in an attempt to make conversation. "It's uh—a shitty building."

You try pressing the button for yourself, "It's never done this for me."

Green Eyes sighs, slouching against his side of the wall and letting his head fall to rest on his shoulder, "Consider yourself lucky."

You huff, giving up on the button and turning to face him.

Your eyes didn't deceive you the first time you saw him — he is just as pretty as you'd initially thought. Not a great conversationalist, but nice to look at. He avoids eye contact until you speak up.

"It's happened to you before?" you gesture to the doors that won't open.

He catches your eye before nodding defeatedly, "This is the fourth time."

You can't help but bitterly laugh at the situation you're in.

"Maybe it's just you, then," you joke, looking up at the digital five mocking you in the corner.

Though you don't catch it, his eyes soften a bit as they fall on you. The corner of his mouth slightly quirks up when he chimes, "Could be."

You let yourself count another ten seconds before tossing your hands by your sides in aggravation and sighing, "So, what now? Hit the help button or—"

And like a blessing, or maybe a curse, you can't decide, the elevator chimes, signaling its arrival. The doors open swiftly as if there was nothing wrong with them in the first place, revealing your destination floor to you.

You whip your head to your upstairs neighbor, confused and almost asking for his permission to exit the elevator. You don't know why you do so, and you don't know why you only depart after he nods his head and waves his hand for you to continue.

Next time you leave your apartment, you find yourself taking the stairs to be safe.

…..

Your peaceful living is unsurprisingly short-lived. After a few enjoyable days, you'd given your neighbors too much credit as they now return to their usual noisiness. You find yourself rapping on their door once again.

This time, Brown Eyes answers.

Even before opening his mouth, he's instantly friendlier than his counterpart based on body language alone, completely opening the door all the way wide and leaning against the frame in his palm.

He's taller than you, but not as tall as the former who greeted you last time. With light rose-colored hair, he's all smiles and giggles. You'd think he were high if you could smell anything on him.

Oh, he's also shirtless.

"Hey, it's our friend again," he smiles at you before craning his neck backward, and you can make an educated guess on who exactly he's talking to.

You're quick to steer clear, "We aren't friends."

He laughs at your words, completely unfazed by the unwelcoming attitude. He casually sips on an energy drink that looks borderline lethal when he asks, "Were we being loud? You comin' to yell at us again?"

His lack of care for the situation surprisingly doesn't rub you the wrong way. Inconvenient? Yes, but not necessarily malicious, from what you can tell.

"I wouldn't be here for any other reason."

"Sorry," he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "We don't really have inside voices around here."

You can't help but roll your eyes at the childish excuse. "You should find some."

"Will do," he nods like a child being reprimanded in class, "sorry again."

He salutes you with a metal can in his left hand. Before you can turn your back to him and towards the elevator, you hear the same voice call out to you.

"Hey—!"

You stop midstride, slowly turning around to face the door again. He stands in the same position, leaning against the door frame as he points out the obvious.

"We didn't get your name last time."

You blink at him a few times, not caring enough to connect the dots and extend the nicety, but the friendly one persists. He places a palm on his (bare) chest as he gestures to himself, "I'm Itadori."

You nod with raised brows, "And I'm calling our landlord if you piss me off again."

You hear a soft chuckle from the inside of the apartment. The two of you turn at the sound of the noise, where Green Eyes hides his smile behind the strings of his sweatshirt and quickly returns his attention to his phone.

Itadori, apparently, looks back at you and nods to his friend, "That's Fushiguro."

You breathe out your own name and quickly make your way back towards your apartment. On the ride down to your floor, you find yourself repeating the name — Fushiguro. It tastes weird on your lips, and you hate the way you don't hate it.

..…

His name is Megumi.

You learn this when a letter shows up at your door addressed to a Fushiguro Megumi. Mail mix-ups are common in the apartment complex, but you can't help but laugh at the coincidence - his name but your apartment number clearly displayed in black ink.

You examine the piece of paper closely. The cream-colored envelope covered in poorly drawn hearts and tacky puppy stickers placed randomly across its front found itself wedged into your door's mailbox. Flipping it over, the return address is a mere surname of Gojo underlined with a smiley face.

A love letter, you realize. You're not sure why the shift in narrative suddenly fills your stomach with an uneasy weight of disappointment.

You're going out anyways, you tell yourself as you slip on your scarf and shimmy into your shoes. Between stopping at the grocery store for a few small things and dropping off overdue assignments at your professor's office, it's not like you're going out of your way to return the letter to its intended recipient. You're doing the right thing, being a good samaritan, your mind repeats.

The single flight up the stairs is easy enough and a good excuse for exercise. Approaching the door that mimics your own floor below, the same one you've already visited two times too many, you feel weirdly nervous. Just slide it beneath his door and call it a day.

As you bend to slip the paper beneath the door, it swings open.

You quickly stand up straight and back away from the opening, as the shadow in your peripheral startles from your presence and does the same.

"Shit, sorry—"

Looking up, you lock eyes with the one and only whose letter lies in your hand. Fuck.

He hesitates a bit when he realizes it's you, doing a double take and immediately assuming he's in trouble again.

"We—" Megumi, you now know him to be, turns his back to you, quickly surveying his empty apartment to show you, "aren't playing? Yuuji's not even home, so—”

You're not sure why you're the slightest bit hurt by his more than reasonable accusation. The only two times you've been at his door were to reprimand him, so of course he's not wrong to assume this time was no different. Still, it has you feeling guilty as you dryly swallow and raise your arm.

"I was sticking this under your door," you sigh, handing him the ridiculous-looking envelope. "Got sent to my place accidentally."

His eyes flicker to your extended hand, and when he sees the writing on the envelope between your fingers, his body instantly goes hot with embarrassment.

"Of course it did," he groans beneath his breath, almost annoyed.

A bit abruptly, he grabs the letter from you and places his hand behind his back, telling himself that if it's out of sight, you'll forget it ever happened entirely.

His uneasiness and slight frustration have you taking a small step back as he snatches the envelope. He senses your hesitation and immediately mourns how he acted out of instinct, sighing and slowly moving the letter from behind him to rest by his side.

He softens and clears his scratchy throat, something you've come to notice he does a lot. "Thanks."

Feeling a bit brave, you raise your eyebrows, amused at his odd behavior. Your words are taunting yet friendly when you nod to the note at his arm.

"You should probably tell your girlfriend that you're in #603, not #503."

Megumi's face is often stoic and downturned, aside from a slight pull of a smile that can rarely be seen on occasion. But at these words, you watch in regret as Megumi's expression mimics one of disgust mixed with pure mortification.

"Oh, this—" his eyes fall to the envelope he thinks might be the cause of his death, "this isn't from a girlfriend. It's actually a lot worse than that."

"Worse?" you push.

"It's... from a family friend," he weakly reveals. "Kinda like a dad, I guess."

You find yourself smiling at the meek yet sweet confession, nodding along and biting back a good-hearted laugh at his timidness.

"Right, I just assumed with the hearts and the cute stickers that—" you trail off, gesturing to the letter that clearly presents itself as something else.

He laughs a bit humorlessly and itches the back of his neck shyly.

"That would make a lot more sense and be a lot less humiliating, yeah."

You take a moment to take in his shyness. He's harmless, you decide at that very moment. You make a mental note to remind yourself to weigh the sides of the subject at hand.

Cons: awkward, obvlvious, bad neighbor, a tad unfriendly at times

Pros: annoyingly attractive, nice enough in actual conversation, respectful in passing, girlfriend-less

You shake those points from your head, taking a breath and slowly moving towards the elevator. "It could've been worse. The stickers could've been puppies and kittens," you tease.

You expect that to be all, because that's all it should be, right? An awkward yet friendly coincidence between two strangers who got off on the wrong foot. You're locked in on entering the elevator when you hear his voice from behind you.

"Sorry—" he shortly blurts out.

You turn, expecting him to elaborate on the outburst. The look on his face almost reads as if he wasn't planning to until seeing your reaction, where he explains, "That we're loud sometimes. I really do try to tell Yuuji to shut up, but he's just... a lot."

You don't know why your heart swells at the apology.

"It's fine," you nod softly. Turning your back, you call out to him as you enter the elevator. "You've actually been pretty tolerable this week, but don't let that go to your head."

As the elevator closes, you see Megumi smile before returning inside and closing his door. This time, you don't stop the thoughts that flow through your head.

Pro: cute

.….

You suppose it was only a matter of time before the tables you'd set managed to turn on you, but you just didn't expect it so soon. Because the next time you run into your neighbors, it's them knocking on your door for a change.

The sharp winter wind shakes the sides of your building with rage — the kind that results in creaky panels and systems outages in certain sectors of your building.

After waking to take a shower early this morning and being greeted with piercing cold water that refused to warm up, no matter how long you ran the faucet, you knew today would be a long one.

Clad in layers of fuzzy socks and bulky hoodies, you rise from the couch to answer the banging outside. After opening the door to see who's on the other side, it takes less than a second for the visitor to make himself at home.

"You out of hot water, too?" Yuuji casually brushes past you, walking into your home and stopping in the center of the living room. He looks around the space in awe — as if his own place just a singular level above doesn't mimic the exact same floor plan.

Still in the hallway but keeping an eye on his friend's questionable behavior, Megumi waits in the hallway. He's on the phone with someone, his cell wedged between his elbow and ear. When he begins asking about the building's backup generator, you mentally thank him for being the only proactive one here.

You sigh and turn to Yuuji, who's admiring your wall art and the fact that you have an actual television stand, "I'm out of heat in general."

"Damn," he blurts out without a thought, "that sucks."

You overhear Megumi wrapping up his conversation in the background when your lips are pulled downward in confusion.

"Are you guys not?"

"Oh no, we are," Yuuji continues admiring your apartment with a child-like curiosity, "but we have a space heater that's doing the job for now. How are you so good at decorating?"

You ignore his question, turning to Megumi who now stands on the threshold of your doorway. He makes a face, one of tight lips and sympathy, almost as if he's wordlessly apologizing for both the unfortunate scenario and his roommate's lack of social etiquette.

You further wrap yourself in your own little warmth, crossing your arms inwards. "That's actually really smart of you guys," you manage to croak out.

"You can come up and chill if you want," Yuuji mindlessly offers, eyes scanning over the magnets on your fridge. He can't stop himself from fiddling with a cherry-shaped one that holds up a baby picture of you from kindergarten.

The shock on your face must be obvious because you swear you hear Megumi swallow a chuckle at your reaction.

"You came down here… to ask me to chill?" Your voice octaves up towards the end, almost as if repeating the offer will reveal itself to be a track or joke.

While Yuuji nods eagerly, you can hear Megumi muttering from behind the neckline of his sweatshirt.

"Sue us for extending a neighborly olive branch."

As Yuuji continues to outwardly snoop around your kitchen, his eyes land on your oven-top clock and he whines.

"I actually have class in twenty and need to catch the shuttle to campus, but you're welcome to not freeze to death with Fushiguro, if you want."

You check your phone, confirming the time when you question, "Didn't the last shuttle of the hour leave already?"

You watch the gears turn in Itadori's mind for a second before he smacks a palm to his head, quickly brushing past you and out the door.

"Fuck me, see you guys later then—" he hurries, the only sound following him being the swishing of his winter coat and clunky booted footsteps jostling down the stairs.

And with Megumi still standing in your doorway and the sound of the main staircase gate slamming behind Yuuji's path, you could hear a pin drop between the two of you if it weren't for the howling wind outside (which you find yourself suddenly grateful for rather than loathing it).

Megumi shifts his weight on the balls of his feet as he stands. He clears his throat in a way he hopes is subtle.

"You can still come up," he gestures to the hallway with a nod of his head, before cautiously adding, "if you want."

Instinctively, you feel your body curl further in on itself. Megumi must notice it too, as his eyes quickly flicker to your raw hands tucked beneath your arms.

"It's not that bad in here," you weakly dismiss.

He deadpans, "I can almost see your breath."

A sigh leaves your chilled body and you look up at Megumi. Now it's your turn to silently communicate with him — eyebrows raising and wavering between your options, you chew on your cheek in thought.

"You don't have to," he softly adds, hands burrowing themselves in the pocket of his hoodie. "Just wanted to see if you needed anything, I guess."

"What did the landlord say?" your words are muffled from your teeth in your cheek.

Megumi's eyes light up a bit before they find his scuffed Converse again.

"He's sending his guys over, but it's gonna take an hour, at least."

After another minute that feels like twenty, you softly speak up.

"…Do you really have a space heater?"

As he fights off a smile, Megumi gently nods.

.….

You'll admit, the apartment looks better than you'd imagined. Not that your standards weren't too high to begin with, but you're pleasantly surprised.

Megumi unlocks the front door, gesturing for you to enter as he slowly closes it behind him, shivering a bit from the draft weaving through the hallway.

It's clean, relatively. The design of the rooms and open areas are identical to your layout below, but between the decor (or lack thereof) and the overhanging presence of the space, it feels so different.

Their television, the one you know to be responsible for their rowdiness, balances on what looks to be a bedside table. Far too small for the proportions of the TV but just enough to carry the width of the screen's base, it looks silly but does the job.

"You can just…" Megumi waves his hand to the living room, awkwardly trailing off as he insists. "Sit. Wherever you want."

Your seating choices include a felt futon in scrappy condition, two lopsided beanbags, and a busted recliner. You take your chances with the futon.

Surveying the apartment, it's not terrible — truthfully, you'd been expecting worse from college guys. You give them props; aside from a few half-drank plastic water bottles and withering plants on their window sill, there's nothing that outwardly goes against any health violations or suitable living standards. No empty beer cans or pizza boxes, no trashy flags or posters hung on the walls. It's decent.

And the space heater working overtime in the corner outlet is a major plus. Feeling the angle of its warmth blasting on your legs, you exhale at the heat and rub your fuzzy slippers together on instinct.

"Do you want anything?" Megumi stands a few feet away, nervous for someone in the comfort of his own home, "Water or a drink, or something?"

It's sweet how respectful he's being — you think back to whoever sent him that letter, imagining they raised him right.

You shake your head curtly, "I don't take drinks from strange men."

His face drops instantly.

"Oh—right," he swallows harshly, fumbling with his sparse words. "I didn't mean it like that or anything, but that makes sense. I just meant—”

The stoic expression you were attempting to upkeep fails and you can't fight off the smile that pulls at your cheeks. Exhaling a laugh and looking over at him, you apologize, "I'm just kidding, Megumi."

He feels his stomach instantly solidify like cement at your words — Megumi. He doesn't recall you ever referring to him by any name, let alone his first. He feels a wandering heat itching up his neck when he coughs up a chuckle.

He shakes his head, sitting on the opposite end of the futon and leaving the middle cushion between the two of you unoccupied.

"Fuck off," he scratches his jaw to busy his shaky hands. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of a few silver rings wrapping around his knuckles.

As the warmth of the space heater (solely the space heater, you remind yourself) gradually dissolves the chill that's been stuck up your spine for the last few hours, you slightly settle further into your seat.

"So this is the scene of the crime, huh?" you motion to the gaming console propped up on the floor beside the makeshift television stand.

Megumi amuses an exhale through his nose and nods along, "Yeah. I mean, you've kinda seen it from the hallway before."

"Yeah, but this is the real thing, first-person point of view. It's just missing me downstairs hitting the ceiling with my broom twenty times."

The next few minutes are stolen by a whole lot of small talk that holds no weight. Beginning to panic at how the hell you're gonna make it through this entire hour with little to talk about, your eyes fall on the television once more.

"So," you curl into the futon. "Show me something worth screaming over."

Without warning, Megumi chokes on his own saliva as he swallows.

"Huh?"

"A game," you quickly correct, not realizing how your words sounded and nodding to the television before you. "I meant, show me a game that justifies how loud you two get."

The game is fine, nothing revolutionary but admit that you could see how it could be entertaining for some. A standard battle royal concept, Megumi hands you his second controller and walks you through the instructions on how to play.

You mimic the way his fingers hold the controller, how they flex and bend to hit certain buttons for special uses. Throughout the tutorial of trial and error, the two of you naturally close the gap of the middle cushion, now much closer as you copy his movements and use his hands for reference. He even goes as far as reaching over to point out certain buttons to you, skimming your fingers hesitantly as he pulls away.

It's safe to say you don't win, don't even come close, but he's a good sport all the same. He laughs when you're hit by enemies and revives you with little to no mocking. He whispers an encouraging "there you go" whenever you manage to land a hit on someone, followed by an "I got you" when he's covering for your character. It's fun — you freeze a bit when you realize that you like spending time with him, even doing the very thing that caused this entire debacle in the first place.

You don't realize how much time has passed until Megumi's phone vibrates from the coffee table. His eyes quickly glance over the unsaved number, almost as if recognizes the contact and is debating on answering or not.

Your eyes narrow teasingly when you taunt, "You gonna take that?"

Snapped out of his thoughts, Megumi nods, swipes his screen, and holds his phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

The conversation is short, maybe thirty seconds in total. Though you can't make out any specific words, you can hear the rumbling of another deep voice on the other end of the call. Megumi listens half-heartedly, nodding along and chiming in here and there to acknowledge the caller.

"Hey, yeah. That was me. Right, okay. Okay, nice. Thanks, appreciate it."

The call ends and Megumi puts his phone down on the coffee table once more. You swear you can hear a small sense of disappointment in his voice when he breathes.

"That was the maintenance guy," he breathes softly. "Heat's back on."

You feel your own body getting sour with misfortune. Why are you so bitter about the thought of going back downstairs to your own apartment?

Nodding at his words, you slowly stand and do your best to sound relieved. "Thank god," you joke, "I was beginning to think I might have to sleep on this gross futon."

Megumi sneers, rolling his eyes and rising to walk you to the door. Before you step into the hallway, you turn to face him.

"Thanks," your tone is spineless, one he's unable to recognize from you before you elaborate, "for letting me leech off of your heat."

"No problem," he shoots you a genuine look. "Consider it reparations for all of the times we've annoyed you."

"All of the times?" you shoot him a harmless glare.

Unlike most who cower and scowl at your sarcastic quips, Megumi seems to bloom beneath your daggered attempts at pushing him away.

"Fine," he exaggerates a groan, "maybe not all. But it's a start, right?"

A start. The insinuation tickles all air out of your lungs like a feather. Though you pretend to be annoyed and kiss your teeth at his words, you nod all the same.

Leaving his door, Megumi seems lighter than he did when you first entered.

"Sorry you just kinda watched me play video games for almost two hours," he calls out to you as you depart, hands returning to his pockets.

"Don't be," you honestly tell him as your head cranes back to look at him. "It was nice to be up here for reasons other than wanting to strangle you."

.….

A day and a half later when the universe has realigned itself and it's you knocking on their door again, they half expect you to be followed by your stuffy landlord holding an eviction notice.

Much to their surprise, you're alone, rather skittish — and holding a tupperware container of… cookies?

It's Megumi who opens the door initially, but Yuuji is quick to squeeze his way into the opening at the sight of your familiar face and mysterious delivery in hand.

"Ooooooh, what are these?" he inquires, unashamed as he pokes his nose into your space in an attempt to get a better look at the baked goods.

Pulling a bit away from his antics, you swallow back any potential wisecracks.

"Thank you for being neighborly and not letting me die of hypothermia cookies," you keep your voice neutral.

"Are they poisoned?" Megumi pipes in.

You shoot him a scowl, one he's learned is innocent enough, and his eyes crinkle in amusement.

"Shit, can't remember if I added vanilla or vitriol?" your head cocks to the side in faux thought.

Your eyes flicker to him as he chews on his cheek in a half-assed attempt to cover up his entertainment at your quickness.

Yuuji, focused on nothing but having a minimum of five cookies for good measure, snatches the container from your hands and carries it to the kitchen counter.

He's already opening the dish and helping himself as he chews, "I don't even know what that is, so I'm gonna take my chances."

Megumi gives a quick thank you for the cookies, and Yuuji chimes in behind a satiated mouth and crumby lips. You brush off their graces, reminding them it's just you returning the favor for the heating situation.

Just as you're about to see yourself out of their entryway, you hear an authentic offer from the kitchen.

"Hey," Yuuji wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and something about it feels oddly youthful to you, "wanna come over this weekend?"

You look at the two of them for a moment, waiting to see if there's a punchline to come, before carefully treading, "Why?"

"We're havin' some friends over," Yuuji reveals casually before going to take another large bite, "and I guess you're funny enough to hang out with us."

The hesitation in your response must be more apparent than you think because he's quick to chuckle and elaborate on the offer.

"It's not an orgy," he teases at your stiffness before grabbing at another cookie and shrugging. "We get take out, chill, drink a little, kick ass in Mario Kart."

You nod as you listen to his words. He's kind, they both are, and you know the offer to be a genuine one. Still, the situation makes your stomach ache with uncertainty at the thought of mingling with strangers for the sake of your mere — acquaintances? Neighbors? Friends?

"As fun as that sounds," you breathe, clearly trying but failing to convince them of your apologetic tone, "I don't really wanna intrude on you and your friends.

"It's not intruding if you're invited," Megumi interjects for the first time in the conversation.

Looking at where he stands against the counter, his eyes are on you. They're careful, but hopeful in a gentle kind of way. He wants you to say yes — but he'd rather swallow a knife than his own pride and admit it himself.

Your words are unconvincing when you sigh, "Not really in the hangout mood. Next time, okay?"

The two men deflate a bit, one more dramatic and obvious than the other, but they nod at your rejection. Wiping his hands off on his shorts, Yuuji walks you to the door, thanking you again for the sweets and joking about you getting home safe on your long journey back downstairs.

You can't help but giggle at his theatrics, insisting that, "If you need me this weekend, I'll be rotting away on my couch with a bottle of wine and a week's worth of Love Island to catch up on."

Yuuji laughs wholeheartedly, "Your loss, see ya."

Megumi weakly waves as his best friend swings the door shut. Once closed, Yuuji turns to him with a cheeky smile he knows can mean nothing good.

Megumi grimaces at his enthusiasm, "What?"

Yuuji nods to the door, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Think I'm gonna ask her out."

Megumi's quick to react poorly.

"What?" he borderline knocks over the water bottle next to him on the counter. He catches it, embarrassed by his obvious care for the situation as he tries to cover it up with a nonchalant scoff, "Why?"

Yuuji stares at him for a minute in disbelief before stating what he believes to be the obvious.

"'Cause she's hot and yells at us all the time?"

Megumi scoffs in distaste again. He fiddles with the rings on his right hand, pretending to be careless about a situation he's anything but careful about.

Sensing his roommate's off response, Itadori's quick to add. "Unless you wanna call dibs before I do?"

"Dibs?" Megumi groans.

"Yeah, like claiming—"

"I know what dibs means," he interrupts before Yuuji can dig his own grave any further. He slumps into the palm of his hand as his elbow rests atop the kitchen counter, "I just think that's shitty."

Yuuji, knowing Megumi well enough to sense that he's hit a sour spot, nods and backs off. He joins him at the counter again, oblivious as he grabs another cookie to chomp on. With cautious eyes and a mouth filled with chocolate, he speaks up.

"…So you don't wanna call dibs?"

.….

It's Saturday, almost Sunday, according to the cat clock on your wall.

You'd kept your word. Beneath a few blankets and practically one with your couch cushions, you're spending your weekend doing exactly what you'd anticipated.

The television continues to play the stream of episodes you're catching up on. With your second glass of red in hand, you tune in and out of the segments when the good parts catch your attention. It feels good to relax, to do nothing and to be nothing behind tipsy and fatigued eyes.

A sudden knock on your door puts a minor wedge in your plans. Sitting up with a groan, you whimper beneath your breath but move to answer it regardless.

Maybe you forgot to tip your delivery driver when he dropped off your takeout a few hours ago and he's back for revenge. Maybe it's your drunk friends, showing up to ruin your night and attempting to persuade you to join them on their foolish escapades. Maybe it's someone with the wrong address.

Locking eyes with the visitor at your door, it's Megumi. Maybe you're drunker than you thought.

His delicate eyes match yours when he scarcely smiles, "Hi."

Your eyes go to the items in his hands — a few beer bottles, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, and a deck of cards.

Giggling to yourself, you stare at him, "I think you got off a floor too early."

Megumi laughs, and when you're able to get a good look at him, you can tell he's a bit tipsy, too. His shoulders aren't as tense as they usually are, he's still broad, but a lot looser now. His eyes are glossed over with a haze you're sure yours mimic. He scratches his nose awkwardly before opening his mouth.

"I—" he cuts himself off, eyes darting to the items in his arms before returning to you, "wanted to see you."

"Me?" you're unable to stop yourself from nearly gawking.

He laughs again, not obnoxiously but easy and natural. "Yes, you. Does someone else live here?"

"Don't you have plans with your friends?" you question, still not letting him inside.

"They're upstairs," he nods, "and no, I'm not here to force you to come up."

At his words, he can see your visible relief. Opening the door fully and letting him come inside, you relish in reassurance, "Good, I really didn't wanna be fake nice right now."

A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he sets his belongings on your coffee table. "Fake nice?" he prompts.

"I mean, not that it's fake, it's just like—customer servicey. Y'know? Being kind to people in a way that's not ingenuine but—"

"Exhausting?" he finishes for you, and he's weirdly more talkative with a bit of alcohol in his veins. "Yeah, I feel that."

You sprawl onto your couch and he takes the seat next to you but refrains from leaning back as far. He watches you graze on your glass of wine, your legs crossed childishly as you gaze up at him.

"Are you like that with me?" he puts on a brave face. "Fake nice?"

He releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding when you shake your head. After a hearty sip from your drink, you talk dramatically with your hands.

"Am I even real nice to you? I've kinda been a bitch since the day I banged on your door."

Megumi shakes his head as he laughs, which in return allows you to do the same. He relaxes a bit further into the warmth of your cushions, lolling his head to look at you as he opens himself a beer.

"I don't think so," he shrugs. "You're not wrong for complaining about us being understandably annoying."

Things lighten up as time passes. The night gets a bit blurry but it's fun, carefree. The two of you sit on your tiny couch, passing a bag of pretzels back and forth, and playing stupid card games that bring out your competitive sides and don't have real rules.

Minutes bleed into hours and you're not sure what time it is when it's late enough for Megumi to start yawning. Enjoying a comfortable silence between the two of you, his voice is temperate when he asks.

"Why didn't you want to hang out with us?"

He almost seems mournful, and a part of you feels guilty as his eyes blink heavily down on you. You exhale, readjusting your legs and throwing your head back.

"Seemed like a friend group thing," is what eventually crawls up from your throat. "Felt weird being the only one who didn't know everyone, y'know?"

He considers before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. But I would've been with you."

His stare feels sharp, like he can see right through your facade and into parts of you you've buried deep a long time ago. You hate it and love it, want to drown yourself in it and voluntarily inhale until your own demise.

Unable to hold his stare, you look into your almost empty glass, swishing around the bleeding wine and ice that remains at the bottom.

"Well, you're here with me now, anyway."

Megumi continues to admire you without words. Pointing an accusatory finger back at him, you nudge his leg with your foot. "So, why aren't you up there?"

"Cause you didn't show up," he doesn't hesitate to respond. Almost as if he regrets his eagerness but still stands by the sentiment, he clears his throat before adding, "Was weirdly hoping you would, but—"

He doesn't finish his sentence, trailing off with a lame shrug.

His eyes look greener when they're a bit more watery. Fuck it.

Slowly, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time to assess his reactions, you move to crawl into his lap. You sense a difference in his breathing pattern, but other than that, he makes no move to pull away from you. He lets you carefully straddle his legs before getting comfortable atop him, when he places his hands on the plush between your hips and thighs.

Leaning in, giving him any chance to reject you, stop you, hate you, you continue to keep his eye as your lips just barely brush against his. He does the same, refusing to look away from you as if he'll never get this opportunity again. As if he wants to take a picture and relish it forever.

"Stop me," you bite through a hushed whisper, daring him to put an end to this before it begins.

His breath is lulled against your own when he whispers, "No."

You kiss him, and he kisses you back. It starts simple, like you're learning all about one another's creases and folds. Between shaky inhales and nervous hands, you lean into one another's touch, savoring every taste and sound you can manage.

Megumi feels brave, and on one particular gasp from you, he prudently skims his tongue across your lower lip before slipping it inside. Rubbing against your own with a fervent need, you open your jaw further for him to have whatever he wants. Between your increased breathing, soft moans, and greedy hands, the two of you slowly become messy and desperate for one another.

Hips wantonly moving against his thighs, he flexes instinctually as you begin to grind yourself down on him. He meets your movements, half hard as he presses into you, both of you whimpering at the new-found friction. The two of you reduce to whiney teenagers, practically swallowing one another whole and dry-humping fully clothed before you open your eyes to look at him.

Megumi, eyes shut and whimpering into your neck, is too good for this — deserves more than this. He's kind, respectful, funny (though you'd never tell him that to his face), and you're both drunk. It feels so fucking good, but it isn't right. It's not supposed to happen like this.

Slowing your movements, you pull back to see his face. Dazed, he opens his pretty green eyes to look up at you like you hold the stars and sun in your hands.

"We shouldn't," you pant, brushing your bangs back and catching your breath. "We should stop."

Megumi, confused and hurt, but instantly moving you off of his lap with a gentle hold, nods in agreement. "Right, right, we're — we're drunk," he whispers, almost ashamed of everything that just happened.

Before you can say anything, he's readjusting himself and standing up. A bit more sober than he was a few minutes ago, he's straightening himself out and making his way to your door.

"Sorry—" he keeps repeating himself, "I'm… I'm so sorry."

He's gone before you can reassure him that there's nothing to apologize for.

.....

You don't hear from him the next morning — or afternoon.

When night falls, you've given up that there's any hope of saving whatever it was the two of you had going.

Wanting to drown yourself in your own sorrows, you stare at the text from your friend before you and weigh your options.

Stay in, cry yourself to a babbling mess, and finish your show

Answer their text and agree to go to this party with them

Thinking back to last night and how badly you fucked that one up, you decide the first choice is off-limits. Hoping you don't regret your decision, it's not long before you're looking decent enough to lock your door behind you and start the commute to your friends.

The walk isn't terrible, being ten minutes to your friend's place and an additional fifteen to whoever's party you're attending. On the west side of campus, you can hear the muffled music and drunken squeals of the attendees from down the street.

The party itself is fine, nothing special. The lime seltzer in your hand is still half full when you stray away from your friends in search of the bathroom.

There's a line formed down the hallway of drunk girls laughing, couples swallowing one another's faces, and a single guy slumped against the wall in his own world. Taking a second glance at the end of the line, you recognize the lone drunk as Yuuji.

Gently tapping his shoulder, his eyes blink open and he's nearly crushing you to death when wrapping his arms around you in excitement. He lets his animation get the best of him, lifting you in the air and spinning you once before he realizes he can't handle another. Leaning on the wall to steady both you and him, you're smiling at his sloppy yet endearing enthusiasm.

"What are you doing here!?" he beams, swaying back and forth and reeking of cheap booze.

"My friends dragged me out of the house," you tease before noticing truly how incoherent he is. Your nose crinkles with worry, "You fucked up?"

He can barely stand up straight, eyes unable to focus in one spot for too long as he blearily looks at you before skimming his body against the wall again. He's talking in slow gibberish, something about having one too many and wanting to talk to this pretty girl from his linguistics lecture before she leaves.

"Hey," you gently grab his jaw to steady his gaze. "Did you come here alone?"

Yuuji doesn't answer, or rather he does but it's nonsensical and impossible to go off of. You sigh, quickly scanning the suddenly overwhelming crowd around you before grabbing his arm and speaking kindly, yet reflective of a mother.

"Let me take you back to our building, okay?" you prompt him to stand up straight and follow your lead. "I'm going back anyways, I'll walk with you."

Yuuji's eyes light up with excitement at the thought of a journey with his neighbor friend, and it's not long before he's dragging his feet over one another and using your hand as a guide to the door.

On your walk home, you ache for the comfort of your warm bed, the feeling of taking these god-forsaken heels off, and Megumi's forgiveness. You wonder if you'll see him when dropping off Yuuji at his door — you pathetically hope so.

However, Yuuji didn't show up to this party alone.

Megumi, who had been grabbing him a drink and caught a glimpse of you two, saw the entire thing without context — Yuuji's hands around your waist, you caressing his jaw, the two of you leaving abruptly together.

He downs both his and Yuuji's drinks with ease.

..…

Megumi wasn't home.

Disappointed but relieved to see Yuuji safe in the comfort of his apartment, you help him collapse on his couch.

Turning him on his side and making him drink at least two cups of water before throwing a blanket over him and leaving a note, you close the door behind you with a heavy heart.

A few minutes later, you're a bit more at ease. Feet now ridden of silly high heels and skin against the soft cotton of your bed, you find yourself flooded with thoughts of Megumi.

You wake up to a constant thud on your front door. Picking up your phone, it's almost two in the morning and you're not even sure you're not dreaming when you're feet carry you to the blistering noise of a fist on your door.

Swinging it open with half-closed eyes, you're more than prepared to fight a murder charge to get whoever the hell this is to leave you alone. But before you can curse them with everything in you, you realize it's Megumi.

"Hi," he whispers. It's a start contrast from the violent banging on your door he was responsible for two seconds ago, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

"Hi," you respond, suddenly more than awake and just as breathless. "You okay?"

"Are you sleeping with Yuuji?"

Your heart skips exactly two beats before you can accurately comprehend his question. It's then when you notice that he's drunk, disgustingly so. You're not sure how it wasn't the first thing you noticed - but looking at his green eyes again, you give yourself some grace.

"… What?" is all you can pathetically muster.

"Itadori," he slurs. His face is pale with hurt and the collar of his shirt is all wrinkled.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Yeah, I know who Yuuji is, but why the hell are you asking me that?"

"Because you shouldn't be," he declares through a heavy tongue and spinning head. You think you hear his voice crack with emotion when he continues, "I don't want you to sleep with him."

You're sure you're still dreaming as you take in his words. Since the moment you knocked on the door one floor above you, sleeping with Yuuji has never crossed your mind. You've been far too busy focusing on thinking about the man in front of you, who's wasted beyond belief and accusing you of something that not only doesn't make sense but hurts a bit.

He fumbles on his words, swallowing dryly and spiraling.

"You shouldn't sleep with him just because he walks around shirtless and invites you to hang out with us."

Your eyebrows pull downwards with what Megumi knows is hurt. He can't stop himself from talking or spewing nonsensical things just because he can.

Your voice is shaky when you plea, "Megumi, what?"

"I mean—he's my best friend, he's great," he throws his hands up to surrender the truth. "But we played video games and—and we kissed. And you're always looking at me with those eyes and—"

"Megumi," your voice comes tired now, cold. "You're drunk."

"You left with him. And you were whispering in his ear and touching his arm." He frowns, feeling sick just thinking about it again. He shakes the nightmare from his head when repeating his prior question.

"Are you sleeping with him?" he asks again, more accusatory this time around.

He watches your eyes fill with water, but it's not long-lived before you're blinking away any sign of weakness and cementing your walls up again.

"If you didn't notice," you spit with venom, "your friend is drunk off of his ass. I walked him home since he could barely stand on his own."

As if you're speaking another language, Megumi dumbly gapes at your confession.

"You—what?"

You press with ice in your words, "Walked him home. He's passed out on your couch right now."

"Oh." Megumi hadn't returned to his apartment before coming to yours. He'd walked home from the shitty party with one destination in mind, immediately talking the elevator to the fifth floor and finding your familiar floor.

He feels stupid, nauseous with guilt, and god, does his head hurt. His heart hurts too when you scoff and cross your arms in defense.

"Wanna go back to the part where you were practically calling me a slut?"

He cringes, "No, no god no, that's not what I was trying to—"

You don't give him the luxury of explaining himself. Turning your back and slamming the door, you take away his chance of redemption.

You sound unrecognizable when you tell him, "Go to fucking bed, Fushiguro."

.….

The birds outside of your window remind you that it's Sunday, and the open book on your desk reminds you that not only do you have class tomorrow, but you have an assignment due before midnight.

Memories of last night's conversation — if you could even call it that — with Megumi make you feel queazy. Nothing happened in the way you'd wanted. It all just spiraled out of control, like water slipping through a cracked ceiling, you'd just watched it leak without remorse.

The continued chirping outside reminds you that it's quiet, something you should use to your advantage. A light in this mess of a pathetic story.

You'll study, you decide. You'll grab a quick coffee from the cafe across the street and get some actual work done. Something you should've done a long time ago, something you’d ignored that ended up with this this heartbreak.

Not even ten minutes later, you're decent enough to slide your shoes on and grab your house keys. Opening the door into the hallway, you're met with familiar eyes.

Megumi looks disheveled, sitting with his knees up against the wall of your hallway. At your abrupt opening of the front door, he's quick to stand up and dust his pants off from the grime of the hallway carpet. You notice he has a paper bouquet of pinks and blues in his hand and an exhausted frown on his face.

When he looks at you, he can almost feel the air leaving your lungs as your stomach drops.

The first words you say to him are softer than he expects, than he thinks he deserves, but still carried by a look of disapproval.

"Were you here all night?" your lip turns with disgust.

"No—" he spews too quickly. Seeing your expression that clearly reads disbelief, he slows himself down. Taking a deep breath, he repeats himself with a bit more certainty. "No, I've been here since like, seven maybe?"

"Why?"

His hand trembles in a way he hopes you have the respect to ignore as he moves to give you the bouquet. "Because I'm sorry," his voice is steady, like he's been practicing in the mirror.

Choosing to make him work for it, your eyes flicker to the flowers unimpressed before finding his face again.

"For?" you cruelly push him further.

But Megumi's determined to meet your forces just as equally. His voice gains confidence as he speaks clearly, "For panicking and assuming the worst last night. I was drunk, but that's not an excuse. It was a douchebag thing to do."

Admiring how your face softens at his apology but still carries creased lines of worry, Megumi half expects your response.

"And?"

This is the part he's a bit unprepared for.

"And for leaving that night," his volume dips with the confession, eyes wanting to find comfort in the floor so badly but refusing to leave your own as he tries and tries and tries to fix this, "I..."

His lips move before he can think twice about his words, "I thought it was what you wanted."

His confession cracks something inside of you, like nails digging crescents into raw skin. Slowly, you gesture for him to come inside. He hesitates but follows when you move towards the couch, the same couch you'd straddled him on two nights prior. It looks different in the daylight.

Megumi's careful with each step, as if he's walking on eggshells, when he slowly sits beside you on the couch. Placing the bouquet on your table, he moves as if you're a predator, as if he'll make one wrong move and you'll snap, lurching at him and sinking your talons into his neck. You hate how it makes you feel.

Your words surprise the both of you when they eventually come. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I wanted you to stay I just—felt bad."

Felt bad? Megumi's mind goes numb at the realization. Felt bad for him? Like when you do a good deed to cancel out a bad one? Did you kiss him that night because you pitied him?

Before his mind runs itself further into the worst-case scenario, he's brought back to reality as you continue.

"We were drunk, and I didn't want that to be how it happened y'know?"

He starts at you blankly, "It?" He lamely asks.

This time, it's your voice that weakens with shame. He watches you fiddle with your fingers, the same ones he remembers feeling in his hair and on his skin. The ones he wants to feel again.

"Felt like I was coming onto you, and you deserved better than that," you eventually reveal softly, correcting yourself with certainty. "Deserve better than that."

And he feels stupid. God, does Megumi feel stupid. All this time, he'd been thinking you regretted the why of the situation, kissing him like you did. He'd never stopped to think about the fact of how you did it. Never thought you'd be so inclined to consider his wishes.

You think he regrets it, and that is the last thing he wants you to believe.

Taking a risk, Megumi lays a gentle palm on your thigh. He does so slowly, giving you a chance to revolt and bite his hand clean off the bone. You don't so he relaxes his hand.

It's not sexual, not desperate and needy like how it was the other night. It's calm. comforting. Another way for him to say I'm still here, aren't I?

"I'm not great with words," he starts, "but I was very much into it. I need you to know that. You didn't—do anything I didn't want."

Softly and ignoring the criticism from the voice in your head for once, you nod.

You recognize the familiar pull of his lips when he softly grins. "Think it's pretty obvious now, but in case it's not," he leans into this whole communicating thing, "I really like being around you."

He thinks his heart grows a size when you weakly smile back at him, "You like being around me?"

He shrugs, laughing at your sarcasm. "Around you, with you. I guess I just like you, really."

You raise your eyebrows, challenging his statement, "Are you still drunk?"

"Fuck no."

You hum shortly. "Hungover?"

"Disgustingly so," he grimaces at the reminder of how nauseous he is.

"Thinking clearly?"

"Never really around you, but clear as I can be."

It's soft and sweet, and this is how you wanted it to be. Naturally, as if you're both magnets being pulled to one another, Megumi is carefully guiding you into his lap as you're naturally making yourself at home in his hold.

The position almost exactly mimics the one you'd found yourself in on Friday night, but this time, it's different. It feels different — golden instead of red and light with a newfound meaning.

With gentle eyes and slight nods from each of you, you kiss once more. His mouth moves the same, eager yet graceful as he leans into you. No wandering hands or drunken hiccups, you feel one another smile into the kiss until it is all giggles and teeth.

"Y'know, if you wanted to ask me out," you pull away from him, accusatory with an underlying teasing, "you should've just asked like a normal person instead of accusing me of sleeping with your friend."

Megumi groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in your neck. You feel the heat of his cheeks when he sighs.

"Yeah, that wasn't my finest moment."

Kisses are stolen and silence is shared until he yawns you remember how awful he must still feel from drinking so much. Crawling off of his lap, you ignore the butterflies in your stomach whines he whines at the loss of your weight.

"Want anything?" you call out as you walk towards the kitchenette. "I have Advil and a bagel with your name on it."

Megumi hums at the thought, not confirming or denying the offer, as his eyes remain locked in on you in a blissful comfort.

Your voice becomes more distant as you turn the corner, "I'll even give you those eyes I know you like so much."

A muffled sound of humiliation can be heard from the couch, "God, please forget I said that."

Putting the bagel in the toaster and reaching up to the medicine cabinet, you laugh carelessly.

"Never."

…..

Yuuji wakes up with a throbbing headache and an acidic burning in the back of his throat.

He groans, turning on his side before realizing that — he's not in his bed. With blurry vision and sweaty hands fumbling to survey the environment around him, he feels for his phone. The screen is far too bright and completely overridden of missed calls and texts, reading a mocking 2:14 PM when he groans.

When yelling Megumi's name a handful of times doesn't work (it usually does), he opens his Find My Friends app and tracks his roommate. Seeing his icon appear right next to his own while ironically hearing your echoing laughter ring from upstairs, he laughs.

Before he closes his eyes again and deals with a hangover from hell, he sends Megumi a text before tossing his phone across the room.

Ur welcome for not actually calling dibs.

#ive looked at this too long and need it out of my face #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fic #megumi fushiguro fic #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut

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forcheol · 4 months

Text

౨ৎ sweater — csc

synopsis when missing seungcheol turns into you wearing his sweater and socks. pairing seungcheol x fem reader genre fluff word count 1.3k hani’s note cheol calls reader baby, sweetheart and doll. this idea literally just came into my brain because of me taking a sweater out of my wardrobe…inspo by this reel btw hehe!

his sweaters smell like him. like fresh laundry but also a strong masculine scent. it’s comforting, as if seungcheol is all around you. whenever seungcheol isn’t around, you wear his clothes — whether that be his silly looking socks with characters on them, his shirts or his sweaters — and in a sense, they’re grounding, warm and not to mention so cosy. which is why you lay in bed with his sweater. but now your feet are cold. so, you get out of bed for the top drawer, bracing yourself for the cold biting at your feet and face. at the sight of a folded pair of shark print crew socks (seungcheol’s favourite), you jump back in bed and pull the socks on.

a cold draft sneaks in from somewhere and into the bedroom where you’re laying. every few minutes, you’re wiggling around in the blankets you’ve wrapped yourself in, trying to gain as much heat as possible. that draft is beginning to provoke agitation in you and you wonder if you even closed all the windows.

there is no way you’re going to get up (again) to check in this cold, though. you had switched the radiators on, surely you’ve closed all windows and you had closed the doors to rooms that weren’t in use. this was all in an attempt to keep the heat in because you were starting to freeze.

the clock reads 10:18 PM, seungcheol isn’t home yet. he had shouted a quick ‘don’t wait up, sweetheart!’ before he had left in the morning and yes, you weren’t going to wait for him at first but god, you miss him so bad right now. you don’t think you could fall asleep without seeing him first.

reaching out of the blanket for the remote, you decide that the best thing to pass the time with is to watch something. so, you switch on the tv and flick through before settling on whatever seems interesting enough to hold your attention until seungcheol arrives home.

multiple yawns had left your mouth by 11:06 PM, seungcheol was still not home. you begin to doze off after a few minutes, eyes fluttering closed every few seconds before you open them wide and squeeze them to stay awake.

a key turns in the lock, it reaches your ears and has you alert. seungcheol’s keys jangle and you know that the jangling sound is the little batgirl keychain colliding with the wall as seungcheol plugs the guitar key into the wall mounted key holder (your keys held a batman keychain — seungcheol had bought these for you both, opting to have each other’s characters).

as seungcheol sets his coat in the closet near the front door and his shoes on the wooden shoe rack, he turns around and almost goes to slump onto the couch when he catches you staring at him through the open bedroom door.

seungcheol tilts his head a little and smiles at you, “i thought i had told you not to wait up, sweetheart.”

“i know but i wanted to wait for you.” you watch as he walks out of eyesight and hear the tap run, a glass filling up with water. seungcheol walks into the room as he takes a sip from the glass and then takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to you, the glass hanging from his fingertips where his forearm rested on his thigh.

“you missed me? oh, my baby,” he coos and lifts your hand to his lips and gives it a quick peck. he gulps down another sip of water and there is half left which he gestures for you to drink the rest, “all this waiting for me and i bet you haven’t even hydrated yourself, silly girl.”

you shake your head as the water runs down your throat, “not true, i am so hydrated!”

“really?” seungcheol’s lips twitch, trying not to smile as he notices your dry lips. his hand holds your jaw and his thumb is on your bottom lip, “why are your lips chapped, then?”

at this, your tongue darts out to lick at your lips, “what do you mean?”

seungcheol shakes his head, he reaches for the vanity table drawer and takes out a lip balm. its cherry flavoured, his favourite. you set down the glass on the bedside table.

his hand tilts your chin and applies the lip balm to your lips and oh, that concentrated look on his beautiful face. lips parted, eyes shining and focused on your lips, trying so hard to not get the balm anywhere other than your lips.

and when he’s done, he asks you to rub your lips to together so that the balm is spread evenly. he watches you intently as you follow his instructions.

seungcheol carefully moves your head around (at this point, you’re just letting him do whatever, it’s endearing to watch him do things like this) to check that the balm hadn’t smudged anywhere else then he lets go, “there, all done! now, make sure you drink a lot of water if you don’t want chapped lips, okay?”

you nod your head slowly as a response and he gets up to put the lip balm away. seungcheol turns around and squints at you, “are you wearing my sweater?”

“huh? yeah, it was getting cold and also, i missed you,” you explain, “wearing your socks too!”

he looks at the end of the bed where you stick out your feet from the blanket, “you can have all of my sweaters and socks if you look that adorable in them, doll.”

the nickname makes your heart skip a beat. doll. it sounds lovely coming from his pretty lips.

seungcheol smiles and you reach for his hands which he gives. you tug with all the strength you have to quickly press your lips to seungcheol’s, pulling back with an audible ‘mwah’ and you make sure that the lip balm he applied had transferred to his lips too.

seungcheol’s dimples form on both cheeks as he laughs with his gummy smile. full cheeks become rosy and seungcheol shrinks a little in his place. every time you pull your little ‘mwah’ trick, seungcheol gets so shy and you love it. you adore his shyness.

“you’re so silly,” seungcheol ruffles your hair, “i’ll go get changed, be right back,” he pinches your cheek and leaves the room.

when seungcheol re-enters the room, you immediately raise a corner of the blanket to invite him over. he climbs onto the bed, except not next to you. seungcheol hovers over you then lowers himself down onto your chest, his legs between yours and his arms going under yours to hug you.

your heart melts at the sight of his head on your chest, being able to feel his chest rising and falling against your own and his hair tickling the base of your neck which you run your hand through, giving him a slight massage. reaching for the blanket you threw to the side, you pull it over both your bodies to stay warm.

“good day at work, cherry?”

seungcheol’s chest vibrates as he hums, “yeah, and jeonghan dragged me to dinner and he paid, can you believe that? i mean, he always ‘forgets’ his wallet at home!”

seungcheol’s after work stories never fail to make you giggle. it’s the way he tells them with big eyes and even acts them out sometimes.

after the laughter stops from both of you, seungcheol speaks up again, “but i’m tired after that. i would have been home earlier to cuddle with you but jeonghan…” he laughs again, “he wouldn’t let me go! now, i just wanna lay like this with you.”

“yeah? i got you, i’m right here,” you rub his back under the blanket and seungcheol moves his head to kiss your collarbone.

a few minutes later, you’re positive that seungcheol has fallen asleep with the way he becomes heavier and heavier the deeper he sleeps — you feel like your hugging an actual bear — so you give him a quick kiss to his forehead and hold him closer to you before dozing off just after him.

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pinkrelish · 1 year

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶It's a dreary start to the week, but as the days go by, the dynamic between you and Eddie shifts. You both ask questions with hidden motives, and after a significant morning, he tells you about Adrie's mom. Then, Steve shows up unannounced with a proposition Eddie can't refuse. Literally.✶

NSFW — slow burn, mutual pining, flirting, light angst, depictions of poverty, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 2/20 [wc: 5.3k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 2: Whimsy as the Wind

Monday was a storm.

There was no better stimulant than the rush of a morning against the rain. Hitting like bullets on the skin when Eddie clutched Adrie to his chest to shield her on the way to the car. Spelling disaster for the braids she asked for, then complained about when he pulled her hair too tight. Dripping into his eyes as he fumbled with the buckle of her car seat in the jet black hours. Drenching the bottom of her favorite pants despite his efforts to protect her.

“Daddy’s sorry,” he mumbled on her wet forehead shining under the dim overhead light.

On the way to preschool she was quiet. The rhythm of the fat drops pounding on the window soothed her, and he was grateful, despite the rising sensation of lateness grating on his nerves.

Everything moved slower on stormy days. Yet he moved faster. It didn’t matter if he skipped eating his breakfast at home to get out the door quicker, the red stop lights took longer, he swore it.

Life was against him. But Adrie was quiet, and Mrs. Teresa was in charge of helping the little ones out of their cars. She was an out-of-towner, meaning, she wasn’t aware of Eddie’s reputation, and therefore was nicer to him than the other teachers, taking care to go beyond superficial greetings.

“Good morning, my dear,” she said to him, voice rough with age. She held an umbrella above his head as he got Adrie out, and followed him to the awning. His coveralls were already darkened by rain, but the gesture was kind, as was him offering his arm for her to hold onto as she stepped over the whirlpool circling the sewer drain.

Eddie sank into a crouch to ease his daughter’s vice grip from his neck. “Give Daddy a kiss goodbye, ‘kay?” Begrudgingly, she stood on her own two feet, and gave him a quick, annoyed peck on his cheek. “You gonna be good today?”

The attitude radiating off her was not promising.

“Your friends are waiting for you inside,” Mrs. Teresa said. “I think they’re playing dress up.”

An offer which proved enticing, as demonstrated by Adrie bolting from him for the front doors.

“No running,” he sighed to himself. The older woman chortled along, and wished him to have a good day as well. He should’ve taken the heart-palpitating lightning strike and simultaneous adrenaline-inducing clap of thunder as an omen when she uttered those words.

If not those things, then certainly his breakfast was a harbinger of the day he was about to have: instead of making two grape jelly biscuits, and two with egg, he ended up making two with both jelly and his daughter’s cold leftover scrambled eggs, and the others were left plain.

He ate the plain ones first before venturing into uncharted territory.

“Fuck no,” he said, mouth full of grape flavored egg-mulch. At least no one had to witness him spit it back into the container.

David’s Auto Repair didn’t have much in the way of shelter to keep him dry during his smoke break, so he sat in his car in the alleyway to pass the time until it was acceptable to arrive early.

‘Early’ being the time when you usually arrived, and an hour before Carl.

Til then, he cranked the heat and reclined his seat back, hugging himself to relieve the constant shiver his damp coveralls caused sticking to his skin.

Now, the heavy rain patter became a lullaby. Pelting the roof, easy on his falling eyelids. Precious seconds, minutes under the guided meditation of tap, tap. Tap, tap. Responsibilities drifting to the recesses of his mind. Thinking back on the days he spent doing this in the high school parking lot, promising Wayne he’d work hard to graduate only to end up napping in his van for most of the morning.

Eddie willed his eyes open. His watch told him he’d been asleep for fourteen minutes. Still early for work, but he felt a jolt of anxiety anyway.

He couldn’t blow things off like he used to. Not with people relying on him. Adrie and Wayne both depended on him to not be a fuck up. And if they weren’t motivation enough, he had another..

You should be sitting at your desk right now. If he timed it right, he’d pass by while the scent of dried coffee still clung to you before it had started brewing, which was an odd association he didn’t know he craved at the moment until it was at the forefront of his mind.

“Already following her around like a lost puppy, Munson,” he chided himself, turning off the car and bracing himself for the sprint to the employee’s entrance at the back of the garage.

And when he entered, the employee’s entrance at the front of the garage slammed open on a flashing cue of lightning, and there stood what he could only assume was a Creature from the Deep.

You huffed in two breaths, “Holy. Shit.”

Eddie tactlessly stared from across the room. You were beyond soaked. Your primary colored all-weather jacket appeared to not be waterproof in a monsoon, sagging on your frame like a melting street light of red, yellow, and green. Much like his coveralls, your once light-wash jeans were now dark blue. Somewhat adorably, though, was your pissed-off face being scrunched in a glare due to your hoodie drawstrings cinched tight in a circle, framing from your brows to your lips.

Your shoes gushed out puddles of rain on the concrete as you shoved your bike forward and let it fall in a clatter.

“I fucking hate this town.”

“Why are you riding a bike?” he asked, thinking you’d gone insane.

“Because I don’t have a car?”

“Why don’t you have a car?”

You sputtered sarcastically, gesturing at your bike. “Because I’m from the city! We have things like public transportation. Trains, taxis, buses.. walking! I've never needed a car to reach my mailbox before.”

Thinking himself helpful, he suggested, “I know a place where we can get you one for cheap.”

“Dude, I don’t even have a license.”

“Why don’t you–?”

“Trains!”

Eddie’s face collapsed into his own glare right back at you, and he waved his hands about the auto repair garage for automobiles where he fixed cars for people in need of transportation in which you answered their calls regarding said transportation and ordered parts to repair said personal automobiles at the garage intended for cars where he worked. You got the irony.

“None of this matters,” you said, dismissing him. True, it didn't matter, and he knew from your exaggerations your anger at him was in jest, but he appreciated the banter regardless. It was a nice break from reality. “It took me so long to get here because my whole street was flooded, and I’m guessing it’s flooding outside of Hawkins where the storm is coming from. We were supposed to get a delivery yesterday, but it never showed up.”

There was a pause where both of you accepted the arduous day ahead.

You said, “I’ll start calling around to see where our delivery might be stuck.”

“And I’ll do what I can without it,” he agreed.

Inhaling a breath of fortitude knowing you’d be informing a few upset individuals today that their cars wouldn’t be ready, you unzipped your jacket and loosened the drawstrings, dropping your hood back. You froze.

“Oh God, don’t look at my hair,” you begged, scuttling through the lobby and into the bathroom.

There were no more exchanges after you ran away. There was no time to entertain the lingering gazes, or small conversations where he thrived on your smile. He had to process what he could to earn money before sundown, and you played phone tag until you yawned, and stared blank-faced at the wall while customers bitched at you.

By normal closing hours, you were both too beaten down to do more than walk past each other on your way out without a goodbye.

A part of him wanted to do the chivalrous thing and offer you a ride, but that seemed too forward, too intimate, too invasive in his small car where his backseat was partially taken up by his daughter’s car seat, and he couldn’t come to a conclusion about your surprise when seeing her, nor unpack the loaded question of why he cared.

Whatever.

At least the rain stopped.

————

Tuesday was overcast.

You looked at Eddie leaning on the countertop to your desk and spun your hand while rolling your eyes, wishing the person on the other end of the phone line would hurry up. Eventually, you hung up, and interrupted him from picking at his nails. “They said it’ll be thirty minutes before they get here.”

“Guess I’ll wait then.”

He didn’t make to leave, and you didn’t have anything else to do, so you laced your fingers and leaned onto your forearms towards him, hoping through giving him your attention, he’d willingly talk to you for once.

“Um,” he drew out, searching the expanse between your hands, where he encroached on your space if only to the wrist. He tapped his knuckles on the vinyl. Swallowed visibly “About your policy thing.. Did you really move here just because your roommate asked you to?”

You drew your gaze up from his descending Adam’s apple, over the soft edge of his jawline, and grainy stubble on his chin. “I mean, kinda, yeah. Obviously, she’s been my best friend for years and needed help moving anyway, so I was up to make the trip, but when she asked if I wanted to stay, I said yes. Seemed intriguing enough; discovering what else was out there after living in cities for so long. See what sorta trouble I could get into when not surrounded by the usual nightlife options.”

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Bobbie’s mom and I are real good at solving the Wheel of Fortune before the contestants.”

Eddie snorted.

He dropped his focus to the looping circles he was drawing with his fingertip. Breathing deeper than necessary, and holding the air in his lungs for a few taut seconds. He rambled, “Sounds like Hawkins isn’t the place for you. Just somewhere to blow through, waiting for someone to ask you to, like, go to Chicago and be a bartender or somethin’.” He ended with a laugh aimed at his hands. Hollow. Empty of the humor he was pretending. “No responsibilities. Ready to get up and go whenever you want. That’s cool.”

“Been there, done that,” you mitigated the tension with a joke. “Bartending in Chicago, I mean.” He wasn’t being purposefully cruel, but the bitterness creeping into his words stung.

You glanced at his ringless fingers. Was he envious of your lifestyle because he was tied down? Your gut instinct told you he wasn’t the type to hold that sort of resentment towards his wife or daughter, so it had to be something else.

“Or,” you countered, “Someone could ask me to stay in Hawkins, and then I’d be obligated to, if we’re abiding by the policy. Who knows, maybe Kevin needs someone to walk his dogs, and then I can lead a nice, quiet, boring life here, absent of any fun or risks, hanging out with dogs for the next eternity. Is that what you want? Me bothering you until you’re in the grave?”

He squinted. “Fair point.” The laugh lines bracketing his mouth enhanced his appeal, joining the crow’s feet, and the harsh crease between his brows as he raised one in smug curiosity.

Perhaps you were staring at him for longer than you realized.

By chance, a chime signaled you both to a customer walking in the door in need of an oil change, and you reaped any opportunity to tease him. “Sorry, but some of us have work to do and can’t chit chat all day,” you cooed with the absolute cockiest head tilt to taunt him.

Shooing him away with a manila folder was extra, you had to admit, but upon recognizing the manner in which he rolled his lips inward to disguise the fact he was smiling, you figured smacking his hands was well worth the weird look from the woman waiting to speak to you.

————

Wednesday was a gale-force.

You went for it.

Arriving at dawn, you prioritized catching Eddie at the beginning of his morning cigarette.

He was leaning against the wall, upper body hunched with his hand cupped around his mouth, flicking his lighter until more than sparks stood against the gusts whipping the collar of his coveralls against his neck. His hair was blown back from his face, granting you the full picture of his raised eyebrows.

“Good morning, Eddie!”

“Hey? You’re early. I thought you’d get swept away on your bike like Dorothy, and I’d have to seek the courage to find you.”

“So in this scenario you’re the Cowardly Lion?” you asked, sidling up next to him to be heard above the wind.

He considered the implication and shrugged. “Guess even in my wildest dreams I’m still a coward.” Like any nice person, you sprung to assure him that despite your very short month of knowing each other, he (probably) wasn’t a coward, and he caught you. He caught you with your mouth wide open, ready to defend his honor.

Smoke slipped from his coy lips.

You tutted, “I think you’re the Scarecrow.” No brains.

“Anyway,” you went on, back to the reason your calves ached from pedaling like a mad man to get here at the same time as him. “It’s not like I bike that far. Bobbie’s parents live on that street next to the big open field, like, fifteen minutes away. Maybe twenty. Or ten?” You pointed vaguely north.

There’s a reason you never navigated on road trips.

“I thought they sold that empty lot forever ago,” he said.

“Well, unless they sold it to a bunch of tiny white mice who scurry every time I open the back door, I think it’s still abandoned.” You took your hands out of your jacket pockets and displayed them. “Not just mice, either. The other day I swear there was a spider the size of my palm in the bathroom.”

Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he tipped his head back to blow the smoke above him before leaning over to study your hands up close. Contemplating them with keenness under the gray wash sky. Mumbling numbers to himself as if he were taking measurements.

He straightened up, and concluded, “Eh, not that impressive with how small your hands are.”

“Are they small?”

You faced him and presented your right hand.

Take the bait. Take the bait. Take the bait.

Eddie rolled onto his shoulder, body still at an angle from his legs crossed at the ankles. With a blank face, he understood what you wanted and decided to indulge your silliness, even if it meant sacrificing his warmth.

Uncrossing his arms, he wiped his hands on his clothes first out of habit.

Come on, Eddie.

None the wiser, he matched your thumbs. Pressed his left hand to yours.

Holy shit. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Mm,” you hummed. You leaned in for a better look.

His hand was warm and damp from sweat. Concentrated heat emanated from his palm sealed to yours, securing the soft cups together, aligning the stretch of your fingers. Where yours were soft, his were rough. Lines of thick calluses. Hardened exteriors acting as a barrier from your tender self discovering what his skin truly felt like brushing over your own.

He wore three rings. All gaudy and themed. Costume-y. Definitely not of the wedding variety.

That didn’t mean he was single, but you doubted he was taken when you turned to him, and found his large nose to be inches from yours, and his gaze to be fond of your cheeks before meeting your eyes.

He bent the top joint of his fingers over yours, and slid his thumb to the outside, crowding your bones in a tight squeeze, establishing his advantage. “Still small,” he said, toothy and boyish; mouth crooked, and hand rolled cigarette bouncing on the syllables. “Let me know when you see a spider as big as my palm.”

Hypnotized, you agreed with whatever he said. “Duly noted. I’ll keep an eye out.”

His Cupid’s bow had no business being that sharp, nor his bottom lip that plump.

————

Thursday was raw.

Nighttime was a purple haze chasing the orange glow behind the trees. You walked around the garage with a small trash can in your arms, tidying up the place. Eddie was staying late again. He said it was to make up for Monday’s mess, but those jobs were completed days ago.

You nudged his boots to get his attention on your way to clean up the work bench. Though you wouldn’t consider yourselves close, you collected the few details you knew of his life, and held them dear to your heart, feeling privileged to know them. “Is your uncle not working today?”

His thighs flexed under the strained fabric of his uniform as he cranked a wrench. “He is,” he grunted from beneath the car, “I’m just trying to get in some hours before he leaves for the night shift.”

Fuck it, you’ll just ask. “How come you work late so often?”

The grinding stopped. For a moment, Eddie laid there, stomach rising and falling as he debated with himself. Seconds went by until he set down the tool and rolled out, sitting up on the creeper board.

Your question struck pink across his pale cheeks. Rather, the way you avoided it brought shame to his face. Why don’t you want to spend more time with your family?

The societal judgment of what he was about to admit weighed on him. He curled in on himself. Drew his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them loosely, latching at the wrist. He braced the words on his tongue–raw and vulnerable–and slipped a finger under his bandana to scratch at his temple.

“Sometimes I’d rather just be here,” he began slowly. “As soon as I get home, I’m the problem solver, you know? Whatever needs to be done, I have to do it while Adrie’s talking a mile a minute, screaming every question under the sun at me, and climbing all over me. I’m doing shit like trying to not burn her dinner while switching over the laundry and picking up the living room and telling her not to touch the stove and fighting with her to take a bath and making sure she has clothes picked out for the morning because if she doesn’t, then I have to spend twenty minutes calming her down before we leave for school so she can decide which shirt she wants to wear, and God.” He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his fingers on either side of his nose, muffling his voice. “I know I’m a shit dad, but sometimes I just want to turn my brain off, and stay here instead.”

“You’re not a shit dad,” you said with soft conviction.

He disregarded you with a mean scoff. “I sound like I hate my kid.”

“You sound overwhelmed, and tired, Eddie.”

“Maybe..”

Remembering you were holding the trash can, you set it down and leaned your hip on the workbench, settling into a comfortable position with a gentle ease of kindness to your expression, showing him it was okay to vent. You’d listen. It was safe. It was safe to show you the ugly parts of him. It would be okay.

You approached the next topic with care, though you could infer the answer for yourself now, “Is there no one else you can rely on besides your uncle to help alleviate some of the stress?”

“No. It’s just us. My parents have been out of the picture for a long time, and Adrie’s mom, uh..” He surrendered to the need for eye contact, wanting to see you, and stated evenly, “Adrie’s mom and I were never together. She was a customer of mine–”

Darting your gaze around the room, you pointed at the garage in an expression of ‘Really, dude?’

He turned puckish. He pinched his index and thumb together and tapped them to his smirk, indicating a much different line of work. You ‘ahh’d.

“Yeah, not a frequent flier either, just someone I saw here and there at parties or whatever. All it took was one night of stupidity. One fucking night of mistake after mistake, man.. N-Not that I think of Adrienne as a mistake! God, no. Just–y’know–the events leading up to her weren’t ideal.”

You held your hand up to stop him. “I’m not judging you. My parents never bothered to correct themselves.”

Mutual pain converged in your matching shrugs. Both of you were the undesireables. Though, he couldn’t imagine you being called a mistake when his failures were glaring.

Sinking into the solace of your presence, he explained further, “Adrie’s mom said–at most–three sentences to me after giving birth, and that was it. Everything else was handled by the court. She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with us, so sole custody should’ve been easy, but the system fucking sucks. Not once did I say anything contradictory; I made it clear from the beginning I wanted my daughter, but I know how I look on paper.. Trailer trash through and through. Busted for drugs more than once. Living with my uncle in a single bedroom piece of shit. Taking three attempts to pass high school. No real job at the time, and beyond broke. They kept trying to convince her to split custody, at least for the first year, but no.” There was a cynical dejection about him. One of haunting acceptance, thinking lowly of himself with his head hung, and glazed over eyes staring faraway. “She found someone better. Some guy with money who lived in Indianapolis, and she wanted to start a life with him. Move on from Adrienne. And me.”

“Eddie?” you called out to him.

“Hm?”

“You may not view my opinion highly, but I think you’re a great dad, and person. Money, reputation, criminal record or whatever else can go fuck itself.” You folded your legs under you, and sat opposite him with your back resting against the table leg. He scooted closer on his board, narrowing the swath of concrete between you to a few feet. “Beat yourself up all you want, but your love for your daughter is apparent. She’s happy. She’s safe. She’s fed. You take care of her just fine, and you’re allowed to feel frustrated, and you’re allowed to feel like you need a break.”

When he remained unconvinced, you insisted, “Adrie adores you, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “I know. That’s why Wayne never has these problems with her. It’s only me she’s ultra clingy with. Like if she’s not attached to me twenty-four-seven I cease to exist and she’ll never see me again.”

Something beautiful occurred in his shy glance. In his bashful smile. In the clumsy removal of his bandana, pulling his hair free from the ponytail and shaking it out. Wild.

His big brown eyes regarded you, and you beheld him in a similar light.

Something changed.

No longer casual acquaintances; you two looked at each other like you were friends.

“Sorry for rambling so much,” Eddie said.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Good. Because I’m not done.” He crept forward a few more inches, and aired his grievances in a lighthearted tone, bitching for the sake of getting it off his chest, “This time of year is really rough on us. Gotta buy her all new school supplies with whatever franchise or animal she’s obsessed with now. Which is unicorns, by the way. And, y’know kids grow like crazy. If it’s not an entire new wardrobe, then it’s the shoes. I swear this kid goes through shoes like she’s ruining them on purpose. I’m almost certain I buy new ones every time I blink.”

A car passed on the street outside; the only break in the suffocating silence of a brick building echoing Eddie’s dramatic hand gestures as he sought sanity.

“She starts kindergarten next September and I’m already dreading it. She’s made lots of friends, which I’m grateful for.. Seriously, I’m really grateful that she’s made friends so easily, but she always wants to dress like them, do the things they do, go the places they go, and I try to figure out ways to afford it, but sometimes it’s too much, and I fucking despise telling her ‘no.’ Then there’s also the birthday parties basically every other weekend, and you can’t attend those empty-handed either, can you?”

You nodded patiently. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Kids are expensive, and it’s only worse at Christmas,” he concluded. Your stomach growled. “You want to leave, don’t you?”

Remaining in your slumped over position with your elbow propped on your thigh, and your cheek to your fist with your eyes closed, you asked, “What gave you that idea?”

He could mock you to his heart’s content, but you were right.

“Shit,” he exhaled, reading the wall clock. “We should go. Wayne leaves for work soon.”

“And Bobbie’s probably waiting for me to get home to gush about her girlfriend.” You stood up and stretched. “It’s cute, like a long-lost lovers situation, but yeah, she can go on for hours.”

————

Friday was cloudy with a chance of sun.

Tires screeched to a stop in the driveway of the garage, and someone honked their horn incessantly.

Startled, Eddie hit his head on the hood of the car he was bent over, and hissed between his teeth. He rubbed at the sore spot and glared behind him, ready to tell the nuisance off.

Except, if he did that, he’d be telling off his best friend.

“Of course it’s you,” he projected in a clipped voice, making his annoyance known.

Steve slammed his car door shut, and leaned against it, lighting a cigarette while Eddie made his way over. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “I’m here on my lunch break, so if you wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little pep in your step, Munson.”

Passing by your inquisitive face smashed to the window beside your desk, Eddie raised his hand to show you everything was okay, and that there was no need to chew someone out for causing a disturbance.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie asked, shuffling up to him. The sun was warm on his skin; a nice change from the shadowy cold warehouse, and Steve basked in it as well, golden hair flopping in the gentle breeze.

There was a moment where they both displayed their nervous habits. Eddie with his tongue prodding the inner corner of his lips, and Steve taking inventory of his surroundings during the drag of his cigarette.

“Look,” Steve stressed. Eddie sighed. “We haven’t seen much of you lately, and Nancy had the idea to go to the theater to see that horror movie that came out a few weeks ago. We’ll probably have the whole place to ourselves, and she, ah, invited someone else. Someone who is also single, if you catch my very obvious drift.”

Eddie’s hand immediately climbed its way to his throat, stroking the column and making a sound of disinterest. “I dunno, man.”

“Well, we’ve already paid the babysitter to watch a third kid, and we don’t mind Adrie sleeping over for the night. You can drop her off at 4 and, uh–” He nodded at his coveralls. “Get cleaned up, or whatever and meet us at 6. Make a good first impression.” At Eddie’s apathetic grunt, he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say, but your date’s already agreed to go, and it’d be a shame if you left them hanging.”

Rolling his shoulders, Eddie forced himself to stop fidgeting by stuffing his hands in his pockets, and focused on the clouds crawling across the sky. “Fine. What’re they like?”

“Your date?”

“Yes, my fucking date you moron.”

Steve shrugged with a mischievous grin. “Dunno. I said Nancy’s the one who invited her, not me.”

Eddie faltered, “So, you don’t even know if she’s into someone like me?” When Steve quirked his eyebrow, it just increased Eddie’s agitation. He made sweeping motions down his body. Steve continued to smoke with a dumb pout. “Jesus, dude.” He stamped in a circle, making a big show with his arms, imploring with an exhausted bite to his tone, “You know what I’m asking.”

“No, I don’t know if she’s into metalhead freaks who are dads, sorry.”

“You’re the bane of my existence.”

“So it’s an official ‘yes?’” he asked without the sarcasm. “I mean, you might as well show up. Wayne’s got his poker tournament with his friends today, doesn’t he? That means you’ll have the place to yourself. Hey, play your cards right and you’ll get some action tonight. I imagine you haven’t gotten lucky since Adrie’s conception, yeah?”

Steve’s laugh was explosive and loud, but it petered out to a pitying noise the longer Eddie squinted into the distance.

“Really? I was just trying to joke with you. Sorry, man.”

Eddie lifted one side of his mouth in a dull grin. “S’kay.”

“Well,” Steve said, flicking the rest of his cigarette. “Just be yourself. Maybe keep the nerdy talk to a minimum, and you’re golden.” He turned to leave, and stopped. “Oh! And Robin’s back in town, if you didn’t hear. She’ll be there tonight too, serving as the fifth wheel, so at least you won’t be the most awkward one there. Come to think of it, I think it’s her friend who’ll be your date.”

“Sounds promising.”

“See ya at 6!” Steve said as he opened the door and fell into place behind the wheel, beaming pure sunshine up at Eddie.

“Yeah, bye.”

Going back inside the garage, it took a second for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, and his first inclination was to look over at you behind your desk, totally filling out the paperwork in front of you, regardless if you were holding a pen or not.

Many thoughts crossed his mind upon watching you open random drawers, and shuffle papers to appear busy. Rationally, he should’ve jumped at the chance for Steve’s offer. A night out with someone without the looming responsibility of adulthood sounded like heaven.. But there was a knot in his stomach telling him to reject the date–not because he couldn’t be bothered, like Steve assumed, but because he pictured someone specific the instant he spoke the arrangement into existence.

The jaded, pessimistic part of him argued it shouldn’t matter what you thought about his love life. You two were hardly friends, and you were a drifter in search of your next big adventure. This small town wasn’t your home. You’d move on. And he should too.

He opened the glass door, and you feigned like you hadn’t been staring at him and Steve attempting to read their lips for the past few minutes. “Hey, I’ve got somewhere to be later, so I’ll actually be leaving on time today.”

“Oh, good!” you said. “Me too.”

Eyeing your thumbs up, he snorted and shook his head.

Yeah, he should move on before this feeling in his chest evolved into something bigger.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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mpileons · 2 months

Text

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

> chapter two

A/N: this is the first fic ive written in a while so bare w/ me as i get back into the motion of writing :) also construction criticism & suggestions are always welcome <3

+ this going to be a multi chapter story, please patient w me and ill try to make it worth your while :,)

—

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 1.9K

Chapter 1

A Year Ago —

It all started on a regular Wednesday, I was getting ready for my morning shift at Lever & Bloom. It was all very normal, I woke up extremely late as per usual, and had to rush out of my apartment complex without doing my hair or my makeup which was once again, per usual.

As 10am hit, I was getting into the motion of making drinks and chatting with customers. Although being a barista is quite a mundane job, I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, especially talking with the regulars and forming those relationships that never fail to bring a smile to my face. As I went to take my break, I saw a distinct blonde head of hair enter the cafe premises. Everytime she enters the cafe (which is very often) my intrigue seems to rise more and more. She seems to always come in at 11 on the dot, every weekday. Not that I’m keeping track or anything. Definitely not. Conveniently, as she goes to the counter I decide to save my break for later. Definitely not anything to do with her.

"One large ic-" The tall blonde starts to speak, but I'm quick to interrupt her. "A large iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, I know, it's coming right up," I say, a small smile creeping onto my face. I turn to see the same expression reflected on her face, a shared moment of understanding passing between us.

For some reason, I feel an impulse I can't ignore. With nervous yet hopeful determination, I grab a napkin and hastily scrawl down my number along with her order. With trembling hands, I slide the napkin across the counter, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"Thanks," she murmurs, her voice soft and tinged with warmth as she takes the napkin. I watch her as she takes a seat by the window, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waits for her drink.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipation mingling with apprehension. What if she doesn't text? What if I completely misread everything?

I push all the thoughts out of my head as I prepare her iced americano, my hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm facade I try to maintain around her. When it's ready, I take a deep breath and walk over to her table, setting the drink down with a shaky hand.

"Here you go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can't hear the rapid thumping of my heart that I'm sure is about to explode.

"Thanks again," she replies, flashing me a dazzling smile that sets my heart aflutter. And then, to my surprise and delight, she adds, "By the way, I'm Alexia."

The sound of her name sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but return the gesture. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Y/N," I say, hoping she can't hear the increasingly rapid thumping of my heart.

We exchange a few more words before I have to return to my duties behind the counter, but her presence lingers in my mind long after she leaves. And as the days turn into weeks and then months, we start to form somewhat of a routine that consists of Alexia coming to get coffee every weekday morning, some light-hearted flirting, then I constantly think about her until I see her the next day.

Present Day –

The soft chime of the café's door announces Alexia's arrival, as it does every weekday morning. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it usually does, alongside a familiar pang of longing mixed with resentment tightening in my chest. I watch as Alexia approaches the counter, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," Alexia greets, her voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," my tone lacking its usual warmth. I start to busy myself with preparing Alexia's usual order, my movements stiff and mechanical. Whether Alexia is paying attention to these details or not is completely lost on me.

As I hand Alexia the cup, our fingers almost touch but Alexia pulls away quickly, further spiralling my conflicting emotions.

"Thanks," Alexia says with a tight smile.

I somehow manage to force a smile in return, but it feels hollow, fake. As Alexia takes her usual seat by the window, her attention is focused on her phone. The sight stirs a flicker of jealousy within me, a bitter unwanted reminder of the countless admirers vying for Alexia's attention.

The minutes tick by, each one stretching out into what seems like an eternity as I try to manage my emotions. I want to reach out to Alexia, to tell her how I am truly feeling, but the words stay stuck in my throat, still suffocated by the weight of the secret I have no choice but to keep.

As Alexia finishes her drink and prepares to leave, my resolve quickly crumbles. "Alexia, wait," I blurted out, cringing at how my voice is tinged with obvious desperation.

Alexia turns to me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is everything okay babe?"

I start to hesitate, my heart pounding like an alarm in my chest. I try to open my mouth to speak, but the words elude me.

"Never mind," I murmur, forcing a weak smile. "Just... take care, okay?"

Alexia's brow furrows in confusion, but she nods, concern etched into her features. "You too, Y/N."

As Alexia leaves the café, I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I begin to wonder how much longer I can keep up the charade, how much longer I can pretend that everything is okay when it's anything but.

I return back to the counter with my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest and my thoughts racing. As the day drags on and my return back to Alexia and I’s shared apartment is approaching, I know something has to change. The weight of secrecy was slowly crushing me and if this goes on any longer, I do not know how much there will be left of our relationship to salvage, or if there will be anything left to salvage. Whether I had the courage to confront this and risk the comfort we had built is another story.

10 Months Ago —

My phone flashes with a message as I am sitting at my desk pouring over textbooks.

Alexia: Be ready at 6, dress comfortably.

As I went to respond, I couldn't hide the bright grin growing on my face. Ever since that day two months ago, Alexia and I had been texting nonstop, talking about anything, everything and all that's in between. I couldn't help but feel as if the universe had dropped a gift into my lap. Alexia was unbelievably attentive and rather charming, further adding to my ever growing feelings for her. As we kept talking nonstop, we found that we were completely different. She's a professional footballer, I do not know a singular thing about football. I study film with a minor in astronomy, she is not very well versed in either of those. However, we are similar in every aspect that matters. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true, she is undeniably attractive, charming, funny, the list goes on and on. Why would she settle for an overworked university student with a mundane part time job?

I push all those thoughts away for later as I start to get ready, considering this will be our first date, if it even is a date. I needed to be prepared, but not too prepared.

Hours pass and I am now in Alexia's car as music softly plays from the console and her hand is lightly resting on my thigh, as if it was always meant to be there.

“Pretty pleasee just tell me where we’re going” I turn to her with the biggest puppy dog eyes, which seem to not work as she just chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re almost there, just a little patience baby” She murmurs and kisses my hand as a way of apologising.

Alexia starts to put the car into park and quickly leaves the car to open my door, ever the gentlewoman. She intertwines her hand with mine as she leads me into a very familiar building. “Uhm Alexia, why are we at the astronomy club?” I look to her with a very confused frown as she looks to me with the softest smile that completely melts my heart, “I got us tickets to a private rooftop stargazing event hosted by a local astronomy club” She speaks with excitement lacing every word, she couldn't even get the words out before I jump into her arms and squeeze her into the tightest hug known to man as a way to try show a glimmer of the feelings taking over my heart due to her unexpected attentiveness. She just smiles at me and gently kisses my forehead as if I am the softest thing in the world, I think I will just melt into a puddle of gush right then and there because of all her actions.

She once again takes my hand as we ascend the stairs to the rooftop, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. The night sky stretches out above creating a vast canvas of twinkling stars and constellations.

Upon reaching the rooftop, we’re greeted by a cosy setup complete with blankets, pillows, and telescopes. Soft music plays in the background, a realisation hits me suddenly. This is the song that was playing when I gave Alexia my number two months ago. The pure amount of consideration, care and thought that Alexia put into this date is making my eyes water, Alexia takes notice of this and immediately comes to engulf me with a hug as she lightly peppers kisses on my head. How did I get so lucky?

She starts to lead me, according to her, to the prime stargazing spot. She snakes her hands around my waist as her chin rests in the crook between my shoulder and neck while I peer through the telescope. “Alexia, you need to see this!” I excitedly tell her but to my surprise she shakes her head “I’d rather stay here with you” I turn to her with the biggest grin as I kiss her cheek and tell her various stories about all the constellations.

As the night wears on, we find ourselves lost in each other's company, our laughter mingling with the soft strains of music and the rustle of the night. With each passing moment, my heart swells more and more with a sense of warmth and belonging, a feeling I had never imagined I could find in another person.

And as the night starts to draw to a close, Alexia leans in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment leading up to the kiss. As I was thinking that the anticipation was going to be the death of me, I felt the warmth of Alexia's breath against my skin as our lips meet in a tender embrace, the world falling away, leaving only the sensation of Alexia's lips against mine, incredibly soft and inviting. My fingers instinctively tangle in Alexia's hair, pulling her as close to me as humanly possible. In that fleeting moment, everything feels right in the world.

#woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #woso community #fcb femeni #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #Alexia putellas x reader #Spotify #woso #woso fanfic #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas x y/n #woso blurbs #woso couples #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona

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corroded-hellfire · 4 months

Text

Merry and Bright - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with the marshmallows to my hot chocolate @munson-blurbs 💝

Summary: It's Eliza's first Christmas, and even though she may not have a clue what's going on, the rest of the Munson family have fun introducing her to their traditions.

Note: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Festivus, and have a safe and cheerful whatever it is you celebrate!

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eliza’s usual 6am feeding has you and Eddie awake before the boys on Christmas morning for the first time ever. Their 11-week-old sister has them beat for the earliest riser this holiday.

Both of you sleepy-eyed as usual, you and Eddie slip into your daughter’s nursery and close the door behind you so her cries don’t wake her brothers. As soon as she sees you, she calms down because she knows the routine by now. You show up when she cries? Eliza gets food.

You walk over and peer into her crib, Eddie stepping up behind you and slipping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Eliza’s tears dry as she stares up at you and her father, her eyes wide like his.

“Merry Christmas, Eliza,” Eddie says.

“Happy first Christmas, sweetheart,” you echo.

She clearly has no idea what you’re saying, but the way she’s looking at you makes you think that she’s thinking: Why are you just standing there smiling at me? Did you not hear the crying? Do you not know what time it is? Where is my food, lady?

You pick her up, clad in her green pajamas dotted with snowflakes and Santa Claus on them. The very same pajamas you, Eddie, Ryan, and Luke are all wearing. When you came up with the idea of matching family pajamas, you weren’t entirely serious until the boys backed you up. Whether they were truly into it or were just going along because they knew their dad would hate it, you have no idea. But Eddie grumbled and agreed, and once it’s just the two of you, declared that you are the only person in the whole world that he would do this for.

Eddie goes to the window and pulls back the pink curtains with the white polka dots while you settle into the rocking chair with your baby.

“Wow,” Eddie says as he looks outside. “It must’ve snowed the whole night. Everything is white.”

“Hear that, Eliza?” you coo as she begins to drink. “Your very first Christmas is a white Christmas. I think your brothers are going to have some fun outside later. Maybe we’ll go out and join them.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at you. “Does she have enough clothes to layer up and go outside in this?”

“Enough clothes?” you ask with a chuckle. “Between the baby shower, Max and Nancy giving us some of their old baby clothes, and what we and the boys bought? I think she has enough layers to look like the Michelin Man.”

“Oh, but look at those rolls,” Eddie says in that baby-talk that’s pretty rare for him. He grins and kneels down next to the two of you in the rocker. “She already looks like the Michelin Man.”

There’s no denying Eliza’s rolls around her wrists and knees and ankles are absolutely the most adorable thing ever. And there is most definitely a long list of adorable things about Eliza.

Once Eliza is done eating, you burp her—and she gives you one her father is quite proud of—and change her diaper, then you head out into the hallway and it’s time to wake the boys.

Eddie walks into Luke’s room and heavily plops down on the mattress, making the ten-year-old bounce. He’s usually a pain to wake up in the morning, but Christmas is an exception.

Luke rouses with a sleepy laugh and rubs at his eyes. “Present time?” he asks.

“I dunno,” Eddie casually replies, shrugging his shoulders as though the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “You think Santa came this year? I haven’t checked the tree yet.”

“And why wouldn’t he come?” you ask from the doorway, holding Eliza. Luke glances over at you and grins; you return his gesture in a silent I’ve got your back.

Eddie, meanwhile, is dead set on provoking him. “Oh, come on,” he scoffs, “Luke had to have made the naughty list.”

Luke playfully lunges at his dad, who catches him and swings him over his own body to let his son land on the floor.

“Nice try,” Eddie says. “But you’ll never beat me.”

When you let out a snort of laughter from where you’re standing, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

You innocently raise your shoulders and walk across the hall to Ryan’s room. He’s a bit easier to wake up than his younger brother, though he’s started to fit the teenage stereotype of sleeping in late.

“Oh my God, it snowed! A lot!” you hear Luke shout from his room, which makes you chuckle. “It’s like Antarctica!”

You can practically hear Eddie playfully rolling his eyes. “Yeah, bud. We’ll see a penguin waddle by in a sec.”

Ryan is already awake from all the chaos. He’s slightly grumpy from his unconventional wake-up call, but he smiles as soon as he stumbles into the hallway and scoops Eliza from your arms.

“Merry Christmas, baby sis!” he coos. You notice that his pajamas barely reach his ankles even though you’d only bought them a few weeks ago. “You ready to see what Santa brought this year?”

As anticipated, Eliza says nothing, but you unanimously agree that she’s excited for presents.

The five of you head to the family room to see multiple gift piles under the meticulously decorated tree.

Luke points at the biggest pile near the front, blue eyes wide. “Who’s that for?”

“Eliza,” you tell him as you ruffle his curls. “Mostly from you and Ryan, I’d wager.”

The boys had wanted to spoil their new sister with heaps of presents; you had to continually remind them that she’ll quickly grow out of any clothes and won’t be playing with toys for a few more months. Eddie had to keep reminding them that they were technically spending his money on the baby. He’d found it nearly impossible to say no to them, his heart swelling with pride that he’d raised such thoughtful—if not rambunctious—young men.

Luke and Ryan get down on the floor, while you and Eddie sit down on the couch with the baby.

“So, this is how we do it, Eliza,” Luke tells his sister, as if she will grasp any of what he’s saying. “Ryan picks up a present, reads who it’s to and from, then he gives it to me, and I give it to whoever’s it is.” It’s a tradition they’d started before Luke learned how to read, but it’s stuck throughout the years.

Eliza lets out a few puffs of air that Luke takes as confirmation that she understands.

“She gets me,” he says simply.

“Or,” Eddie teases, “she can’t tell which one of you is Ryan and which one of you is Luke in these ridiculous matching pajamas.”

The four of you take turns opening Eliza’s presents for her. Each time a new one is opened you try to get her attention to show it to her, but she rarely cares. Eddie’s curls start to be more of interest to her than anything anyone else is doing.

Whenever Luke or Ryan open them for her, they get really excited and hype their sister up about whatever it is that she got.

“Wow, Eliza! Look at this dress!” Luke says as he picks it up and shows her. “It has Princess Ariel on it! I bet you’re going to love the princesses.”

“Ooh, Eliza! Look at these!” Ryan shakes the oversized keyring with the pastel-colored plastic keys hanging from it. “You can drive Dad’s car with these.”

“I’d let her drive it before I let either of you two menaces behind the wheel.”

Eventually, Eliza’s pile is depleted, and the boys open their own presents. Ironically, they were more enthused for Eliza’s, though their new Game Boys are an absolute hit. There was eventually a gift that Eliza seemed to be enthralled with though. The only thing that really caught her attention was the shininess of a new watch that Eddie got from Luke. She wanted to put it directly in her mouth, but Eddie stopped her as Luke warned that he wasn’t sure if it was water proof or not.

Once presents are done, Eddie cleans up the variety of wrapping paper while you dress Eliza in her Christmas candy cane outfit. This outfit Eddie picked out. It seemed only fair since you practically forced him into the pajamas.

It’s nap time for Eliza, so you settle her down while the boys go through their new gifts. The clothes they received only got a once over while the toys and video games were more heavily scrutinized.

After Luke makes his rounds through his toys, he notices how much snow has built up on the ground.

“Daaaaad!”

“Whaaaat?” Eddie mimics as he walks in the room.

Luke walks over and gives his dad an over the top smile—a telltale sign that he wants something.

“Wanna go play in the snoooow?”

Eddie pretends to consider the question even though he’s been waiting for one of the boys to ask all day. He’s still a kid at heart and has been dying to get out there and mess around.

“I guess I could go for kicking your asses in a snowball fight.”

“Luke and I can take you, old man!” Ryan says.

“Two against one? Huh. Babe? Wanna come be on my team?”

“Sorry, hot stuff,” you say as you stroll in from the kitchen. “Then who would be here to get little Miss Eliza up from her nap and get her all bundled up for the snow?”

Eddie suddenly looks a bit more serious. “She’s going to have to have a lot of layers.”

“Really? Because I was going to bring her out in just her diaper.” You can’t help but chuckle at Eddie’s protectiveness and lean up to press a kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry. She’ll have so many layers she’ll look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

The three men get all layered up and you get comfortable in a cozy chair near the window with a mug of hot chocolate to watch their shenanigans unfold. The boys go to one side of the yard and start making snowballs while Eddie goes to the other side. Your husband makes a little snow barrier that he can crouch behind before he starts making his snowball supply.

“Teach these kids to call me old,” he mumbles to himself.

Eddie quickly throws a snowball that hits the back of Luke’s head before he ducks back behind his wall. Eddie tries to control his laughter, but it keeps coming out in hot puffs of breath that he can see float away from his mouth.

“What the?!” Luke shouts, looking all around. “How’d he do that?”

Eddie chuckles to himself as he creates more ammunition. These amateurs.

You look on in amusement as the three of them commence in all-out war. Eddie clearly gets the better of them, which you can tell he’s secretly proud of. Or not-so-secretly as he sticks his tongue out at them and taunts them. You’d swear you were the one in this relationship who is older by a decade, not him.

After a while of running around, your sons and husband fall into a pile in the middle of the yard, obviously tired from so much exertion. You giggle as you watch them try and catch their breaths; Luke literally reaching up with his gloved hands to swipe at the condensation his huffing and puffing is causing.

Luke is the first one up and starts tugging on his dad’s coat sleeve to pull him up too. Ryan is the next one up, then finally Eddie. It takes you a couple of minutes to figure out what they’re doing at first. It looks like they’re just moving piles of snow around with no rhyme or reason.

Just as you’ve put together that they’re trying to build an igloo, you hear Eliza’s cries coming from her room. You get up from your warm cocoon on the chair and wander into Eliza’s nursery where she’s whining for attention.

“What’s all the fuss about?” you ask as you scoop her up. “It’s Christmas. Didn’t anyone tell you there’s no crying on Christmas?”

Eliza’s only response is a tiny sneeze that makes you giggle.

“God bless you. Now, let’s see how many layers of clothes we can put on you before you’re as good as bubble wrapped.”

When you open the back door, both you and your daughter bundled up tightly against the cold, the igloo looks like it had some architectural issues. Eddie pushes himself off the ground and comes over to the two of you.

“Look at my girls. So cute in all your layers.” He presses a kiss to your nose, which gives you a shiver.

“Your lips are freezing!” you exclaim, scrunching your face.

“What do you expect?” Eddie asks with a laugh. “Igloo construction is very serious work that can only be done in these dire weather conditions.”

A few snowflakes fall onto Eliza’s pale pink coat, and she blinks at them in confusion before they melt away.

“How is the construction crew doing?” you ask, nodding to the boys and their building, snow stuck to their gloves like Velcro.

“Some structural problems,” Eddie shrugs. “Definitely inhabitable, but I don’t have the heart to break it to them.” He brushes his gloves onto his jacket and holds his arms out towards Eliza. “Come here, you.”

He takes her, snuggling her to his chest, and walks over to where the boys are working tirelessly. Crouching down, he lets Eliza’s legs hang down so her booted up little feet are on the snowy ground.

“Hey, ‘Liza,” Luke chirps. “We’re making a house out of snow.”

“It’s not going too well,” Ryan adds under his breath.

His brother scowls. “She doesn’t know that!” he hisses.

Eliza’s eyes track the snowflakes falling down around her.

“You like the snow, huh?” Eddie asks her, kissing the tiniest sliver of exposed forehead beneath her fuzzy hood.

A chunk of the attempted igloo comes off in Ryan’s hands and he lets out a defeated sigh. “You wanna try some snow?” he asks Eliza just as you walk over to join them. He breaks off the snow into a small chunk and holds it up near Eliza’s lips. She only stares at it for a second before Eddie helps her lean in and she opens her mouth, just as she does when she’s trying to eat.

The moment the coldness touches her lips, Eliza turns her head and curls her hands towards her face, making the rest of you laugh.

“Cold, huh?” Ryan chuckles, tossing aside the snow that Eliza hasn’t consumed.

“All right,” Eddie says as he stands up, shifting his daughter in his arms. “I don’t know about you boys, but my butt is pretty numb. What do you say we head inside?”

Both boys whine, even though you can tell by their chattering teeth that they’re getting a bit cold themselves.

“How’s hot chocolate sound?” you add.

That gets both boys up and headed towards the back door. Eddie walks ahead of you with Eliza, and you shuffle towards him so you can whisper in his ear.

“If you can’t feel your ass, maybe I could feel it for you?” Your lips curl into a smirk.

Eddie turns to face you. “Why, Mrs. Munson, how very naughty of you.” His kiss lingers in a way that tells you to expect a special gift the moment you two are truly alone.

It takes a few minutes for everyone to peel off their wet clothes. Eddie and Ryan work on throwing the snow-soaked pants and socks into the dryer while you recruit Luke to help a freshly warmed Eliza into her swing in the living room so you can make hot chocolate.

Luke buckles the straps over Eliza’s red and white outfit and turns the swing on the lowest setting. It gently sways her back and forth from left to right, which is usually her favorite thing in the world, but her tiny cries warn that she is not amused.

“Hey, what’s the whining about?” Luke asks, frowning at his fussy sister.

Eliza squeals and throws her little arms up as much as she’s able to as though purposely acting in defiance.

Luke immediately springs into action. “No, no!” He scrambles for an idea. “Here, watch me, Eliza!”

He starts to do an overexaggerated jig in front of her and sings I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do. I don't want a doll, no dinky Tinkertoy. I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy!”

Eliza stops her crying and just stares at her older brother as he continues his impromptu performance.

“I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs. Oh, what joy and what surprise. When I open up my eyes to see my hippo hero standing there!”

Watching the mini concert from the kitchen, you notice that Eliza is mesmerized by her brother; the look on her face reads, “what the hell are you doing?”, but you’re not going to question whatever it is that’s quieted her down—even if it means being subjected to one of the most irritating holiday songs in existence.

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do. No crocodiles, or rhinoceroseses. I only like hippopotamuseses. And hippopotamuses like me too!”

Successfully distracted, the baby makes spit bubbles and flaps her arms. Luke feels that he’s done his job, and he gives a small bow.

Luke finishes imagining the applause his baby sister so obviously wants to give him when Eddie comes into the living room carrying two mugs full of steaming hot chocolate.

“Hey, Timberlake. Here’s your drink.”

You and Ryan are right behind him as you carefully balance your own drinks, giggling at each other as you check on one another’s progress from the corner of your eyes. It’s almost a game to see if one of you will spill a few drops before the other.

Luke plops down in the chair you had been sitting in while watching the boys outside and Ryan settles in on the loveseat. You take advantage of your husband sitting alone on the couch to cuddle up to his side. Eddie settles one arm over your shoulders and brings his Metallica mug to his lips with his other hand. Taking care to hold your “Meowy Christmas” mug dotted in adorable kittens in both of your hands, you rest your head on his shoulder. Your eyes admire the cup that Luke gave you last year for Christmas before they drift over to your daughter comfortably rocking in her swing.

Her large eyes move from family member to family member, as if wondering what you’re all doing. You imagine her holding her own little mug-shaped bottle to join in with the rest of you and you let out a soft giggle at the thought.

“What, baby?” Eddie asks softly.

“Nothing,” you say with a shake of your head. “Just look at our little girl. Watching all of us.”

Eddie smiles when he looks over and his daughter’s gaze locks on his. He feels as if one more ounce of happiness was pumped into his heart it would explode. The room is still and quiet, but Eliza continues to look on as the four of you warm up by drinking the confectionary delight.

By the time the four of you have emptied your mugs, Eliza is fast asleep in her swing. Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, and you take his empty cup as he rises to his feet. He walks over, slowly stops the rocking, and scoops Eliza up. She lets out a little sigh as Eddie resituates her in his arms; her classic sign of contentment when she knows she’s safe in her daddy’s care. He carries the sleeping infant into her room and lays her down in her crib.

“Sweet dreams, sweet pea.”

An hour later, the buzzer rings.

Wayne’s on the other side of the door, two pizza boxes in hand. Since Eliza is still so little and requires almost all of your energy, there isn’t a fancy meal this year, but no one seems to mind.

The Munson patriarch sets the food on the table, opening the boxes to reveal pepperoni & green peppers atop each pie. “Christmas colors,” he announces proudly.

Eddie pops a Christmas album into the CD player as you all gather around the table and eat. By some miracle, Luke and Ryan manage to take their slices without fighting over the bigger one, and you thank your lucky stars.

No sooner do you sit down and lift your own slice to your lips, Eliza’s cry bleats through the baby monitor. You instinctively start to stand, but Wayne puts a gentle hand out to stop you.

“I got it,” he assures you, walking into the room where Eliza lays in her crib.

“You’re the cutest candy cane I’ve ever seen!” you hear him exclaim as he lifts her to carry her back out to the kitchen.

He takes his seat next to Luke, who holds his slice in the baby’s direction, a glob of sauce plopping onto the floor.

“Eliza, you want some pizza?” He pretends to bring it to her mouth before he pulls back and cackles. “Aahh, just kidding!”

The tiny baby manages to stay awake for the entirety of dinner, but by the end of dessert, she’s starting to get cranky again.

When it’s time to clear the table, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms high over his head. And so what if your gaze drifted to the pale expanse of his stomach that it showed?

“Come on, men,” Eddie says. “Let’s get this place looking ship-shaped.”

“You sure you weren’t the one in the military?” Wayne asks with a husky laugh. He hands you the baby who is only getting fussier by the second.

“I think it’s time for some jammies,” you say as you hold her against your chest. Her whines and whimpers in return sound like a disagreement, so you can only imagine what her backtalk will be like when she can speak.

“Not fair,” Luke says with a huff as you move to leave the dining room. You turn around and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What’s not fair?” you ask.

“You don’t have to clean,” he says as he picks up the bowl of mashed potatoes that is now so empty it looks as if it’s been licked clean. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was, honestly.

“Do you want to try and get Miss Crankypants into her pajamas? Then to bed?” you ask.

“No,” Luke admits with a groan and brings the empty dishes into the kitchen.

“That’s what I thought,” you say to Eliza as you carry her down the hall to her room.

It’s time for the annual tradition of watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas, but Eliza still hasn’t gone to sleep. You’re not sure how long you’ve been trying to soothe her to sleep, but it feels like it’s been hours. You tell the guys to start watching it without you as you start to walk throughout the house with your fussy daughter in your arms. The rocking motion of walking tends to have a calming effect on her. Hasn’t worked so far, but it’s worth another shot.

“Come on, sweetie,” you beg her. “You had a big day. You must be so tired.”

She continues her protests, so you hold her closer to your chest, her green elf pajamas soft in your hands. On your fourth lap of the house, you pass by the living room again but there’s music coming from the television this time.

Eliza stops her fussing at the sound. The scene ends and Eliza starts to act up again, so you take another lap around the house. Once more back at the living room, there’s music and again she calms down.

“Hmm…” you hum to yourself.

Testing your theory, you sit at the edge of the couch and keep your firm hold on Eliza. The music continues as Eliza calms all the way down. This time, she’s calmed enough that you can sit back on the couch and enjoy the show with your family. Every time a scene with music comes on, Eliza gets happier and even gives you a smile that you’re pretty sure had nothing to do with gas.

“You like the music, huh?” you ask your daughter softly.

“Making her daddy proud,” Eddie says, throwing a wink your way.

Not much later, Eliza falls asleep, and it allows you to watch the rest of the program with your family. When it’s time for bed, the boys each get up and press a soft kiss to their sister’s forehead. Once they’ve gone to brush their teeth, you bring Eliza into her room, Eddie right behind you. You gently lay her down and Eddie snakes his arms around your waist from behind. Both of you look down at your daughter, her little pink lips parted as her chest moves up and down with her steady breathing. The soft downy hairs on her head are starting to get a curl to them and you smile at the thought of her having hair like your husband.

Eddie presses a kiss to your cheek and rests his chin on your shoulder so he can look down at the sleeping girl as well.

“We made a cute baby,” Eddie says softly.

“The cutest,” you agree.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

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dreamauri · 7 months

Text

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part one ┇୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ╮ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst / romance ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 709 ) ╰ 🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

★ ☆ short start, i think its okay?? ━━━━━━━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( next )

Why were you so shaky? The paint is going to splatter on your clothes. Stop it. You like this shirt. Stop shaking. You should be happy, Y/N. Be happy.

Blink. It's too blurry, blink! Was your vision always so blurry like this?

Yes.

No it's not. Are you crying? You are, aren't you.

"I'm crying?" You're voice was hoarse and quiet. The whole apartment was quiet and your voice was the first one you've heard in a while.

You'd arrived early in the morning only to be greeted by an empty apartment and silence. Your suitcase was the only noise you could hear as you dragged it to the apartment along with it dropping on the floor once you found the spare key and entered.

Your morning was spent deep cleaning and tidying the foreign flat. The dishes were dusty and the carpet had practically gone trough a hurricane. The only pleasure you had taken is unpacking your clothes ( the only items you could bring along ) and finding a fresh canvas waiting for you outside in the balcony.

You thought maybe taking a small painting session would calm your nerves and cool you down. But it didn't. It didn't at all. All it had done was help all the recent events skin in and settle. This would be your new life now.

Streams of hot tears ran down your eyes damping your cheeks. And while some tears ran downpour neck other dripped from your chin onto the colour palette you held in your hand.

With shaky breaths, the paint brush was set down and your palms were quick to rub dry your eyes and tears.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm . . . Back." Max sighed as he was greeted with silence. He entered the apartment. It would be pushing it if he expected you to welcome him with a smile and a kiss.

Especially after that small wedding. And especially after being to busy to plan and go on a honeymoon. And especially after not coming to pick you up from the airport when he instead chose to go play a game of paddle with his friends.

Only when he saw you painting in the balcony did he feel guilt swell in his chest. He'd treated you like a package didn't he? Ordered you. But even packages you wait for and greet at the door.

This package had to let herself in, and she had apparently seen the chaotic state of the household and took matters into her own hands. Max now knew that he didn't make the best choices. Maybe he shouldn't greet you all smelly and exhausted. Not the best way to greet your new wife.

Oh but what a wife. Max thought dreamily, the cool water from the shower adjusting the temperature of his body. Your skin and body, a blessing from heaven. Your eyes, beautiful big diamonds. Your hair, golden silk.

A true prize you were. He's always wanted to keep you in his pocket ever since he saw you for the first time in high-school back in the day. And although he was a whole two years younger than you with him in year 9 and you in 11, he couldn't help himself.

"There you are." Max smiled as he finally found you, his hand finding your bicep and stopping you in your track. "Hey." The greeting was gentle and whispered in your ear, his arm finding your waist and pulling you in a kiss.

"Hi." You whispered just as quietly, looking down to avoid his eyes. You always thought they were too blue and big for his head. People with blue eyes always creeped you out.

"I missed you." "You did?" "Of course I did." Max chuckled , pressing another kiss to your lips. "I see you found my gift." He gestured to the window where the canvas sat drying. "I was going to make you something to eat. I didn't know when you were coming. I didn't hear you come in." "That's fine. I was thinking we can go eat . . . out i mean. eat out . . . You want to eat out?" "—Yeah yeah, I can eat out." You nodded quickly, the awkwardness was growing quickly.

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾#max verstappen #max #mv1 #mv33 #max x reader #max x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #formula racing #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader

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totheblood · 1 year

Text

cool about it.

pairing: modern!ellie x reader

summary: ellie is your girlfriend, best friend, friend.... it's complicated... based on the song cool about it by boygenius

warnings: 18+: angst, cursing, drinking, ellie is lowkey a d*ck...

word count: 3.1k

a/n: i had plans to write this but you can thank jay (@elliewill) for begging me to write it because she loves angst... so this one is for her. also only two ai audios.. idk the angst ai audios made me sick i apologize

"i can walk you home and practice method acting."

There was an overwhelming silence in the room.

Your hand was wrapped in Ellie’s, her fingers brushing over the smooth skin covering your joints. You couldn’t see her in the dark room, but you knew she was smiling. You could smell the lavender and musk rolling off her in waves, almost rendering you useless as you leaned into her. She was intoxicating in every way a person could be. But as the lights came on and the credits began to roll, Ellie pulled her hand from yours, wiping at her jeans as she turned to the group.

“That movie was shit.” A laugh escaped her lips as she stood up, not looking at you. Sometimes when Ellie was feeling ashamed about snubbing you in public, she had a hard time making eye contact with you after. You liked to believe it was the guilt, but you weren’t so sure of that.

“I thought it was nice.” You smiled up at her, collecting your bag from the floor and throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie’s eyes flicked down to you, then rolled back into her head.

“You think every movie is nice,” she teased, picking up her jacket that was thrown over the back of her seat. “It’s why you give every move 5 stars on Letterboxd.”

“That’s true.” Dina chimed in as the group began making their way out of the theater. “But I liked it, so I’m gonna have to agree with her on this one. Sorry, Ellie.”

“I don’t know,” Cindy spoke up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights from outside. “How many Scream movies are they gonna make?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Ellie practically screamed as she held the door for you. You wanted to think that the gesture meant more, but sadly she was just being polite. You were trying your best not to overanalyze everything Ellie did in relation to you but found it hard when her hand reached for yours in every dark room. Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Ellie calling your name.

“What?” You looked at Ellie, a confused look plastered on your face.

“I asked if you wanted a ride to your apartment. Dina and Cindy are going back to the dorms.” She said matter of factly, slipping on her jacket.

“Oh, yeah. That would be great.” You turned to say bye to Dina and Cindy before following Ellie to her car. You knew her car too well. The pickup truck she’d drive you to 7-11 in nearly every night was on its last leg and needed a repair almost every month, but Ellie swore by it. She always made some comment about how loyal she was for not abandoning her car, but you always joked back that she couldn’t afford a new one. She’d roll her eyes and grab the Slurpee cup from your hands, taking a sip as payback.

It was tender moments like that one that kept you coming back, despite Ellie’s refusal to commit. It was an unspoken understanding between the both of you, but you knew that if you talked about it that Ellie would validate your fears. So you just didn’t talk about it.

You let her lean over the seat and kiss you when you got in the car, but not before looking out the window to make sure Dina and Cindy had pulled off. Her mouth tasted like cherry and vanilla, and her hands pressed at the side of your cheeks. You had to romanticize moments like this, the secret kisses and stolen glances. Otherwise, it would just be pathetic.

You were unsure if you were in love with Ellie, but you wanted to spend all of your free time in her back pocket. You wanted a necklace engraved with her name hanging around your neck as if she owned you. You wanted to bring her home to meet your parents, her hands shaking as they hugged her. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was you hanging onto the brief moments that her tongue was tucked into your cheek.

“If you’re gonna hold my hand throughout the movie, maybe you should just take me out on a date,” you laughed, watching her face fall. Mentally, you were cursing yourself, but your gentle smile remained.

“That’s not what this is.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“The movie was scary, I thought you’d want me to hold your hand through it.” Ellie cut you off, her tone sharp. She began buckling her seatbelt, wanting to escape the conversation as soon as possible. “If I knew you’d make a big deal about it I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Yea, no. You’re right, Ellie.” You gave in like you usually did when it came to Ellie. If something you said came too close to referring to you and Ellie as an ‘actual relationship’, she would shut down completely. You don’t know why her body tensed up, or why she avoided eye contact, but you didn’t want to push it. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just-” Ellie sighed as she put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. One hand was planted on the steering wheel while the other rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want this to be too complicated. I like what we have. It’s easy.”

“Yea, I know.” Your voice sounded as small as you felt. As easy as this was for Ellie, it was torture for you. Not only could you not tell her how you truly felt, but you also felt like you couldn’t tell any of your friends about it. Another frustrated sigh fell from Ellie’s lips, you could tell she was trying.

“Look, Jesse is throwing a party tomorrow night.” She glanced over at you in the passenger seat, her expression unreadable. “How about you come with me?”

You knew she wasn’t asking you out on a date. You knew that and yet your heart still leaped in your chest at her request. You knew it wasn’t a date and you still agreed to go.

You felt pathetic trying on every outfit in your closet, trying to make sure whatever you wore would accentuate your best features. You settled on a simple tank top and jeans, throwing a flannel over it in case it got cold. Despite knowing how the night was most likely going to go, you still wanted to look your best for Ellie. It was the first time she’s ever asked you to go anywhere public and in the back of your mind you imagined this night changing the dynamic of your relationship completely.

Ellie picked you up early, her car making some weird sputtering noise as she pulled up. She looked you up and down when you climbed into the car, her stare making your cheeks heat up.

“You look nice,” Ellie mentioned, hand on the steering wheel. She waited until you were buckled in to press a kiss to your lips, smiling before she pulled off. The conversation in the car was nothing substantial, just small talk about classes and friends, and how much work the both of you had to do.

Outside of the frat house people were scattered on the lawn. A couple sat on the front porch making out while the music inside made the wood shake. There were a lot more people here than you anticipated, and you could tell Ellie was getting nervous. Usually, when she was nervous she’d reach for your hand, but tonight she trailed behind you.

Jesse, Dina, Cindy, and some of Jesse’s frat friends were huddled in the kitchen when you arrived. Jesse greeted you with a drunken smile and the slurring of your name, pulling you in for a hug.

“Nice to see you brought your girlfriend, El.” He joked, bringing Ellie into a half hug and attempting to give her a fist bump. Ellie’s mouth hung open as her eyes darted around the group, avoiding eye contact with you. Then she let out a laugh, a loud full-chested laugh as she held her stomach.

“She- she’s not my girlfriend.” She managed between laughs. The way she said it as if it was a joke that she could ever date you made your heart drop. She still hadn’t even glanced at you. If she had she would’ve seen the way your smile faded and eyes dropped to the floor.

“I know that,” Jesse laughed, lifting his red cup to his lips and taking another swig of his drink, “It’s just you guys always hang out… it’s a joke.”

“Damn right, it’s a joke.” Ellie chuckled with the rest of the group. You were struggling to find the humor in this so you just gave the group a tight-lipped smile and excused yourself. You pushed past the sweaty bodies to make your way into the living room where some guy was dipping red cups into a giant container filled with red liquid. He didn’t even look at you as he handed you a cup but you still thanked him.

You took the drink with you outside, sitting on the steps of the porch and drinking the vile liquid. You coughed on your first sip but as you downed it and the buzz filled your body it became more tolerable. About 30 minutes had passed with you sitting in there, occasionally saying hi to people you knew from class that were going in and out of the house.

You didn’t even notice when Ellie came out and stood in front of you. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Where have you been all night?” Ellie’s voice came out meaner than expected, but she was starting to believe you had left her. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Couldn’t have looked that hard,” a bitter laugh fell from your lips, your eyes glued to your phone, not wanting to look up at her. “I was sat here all night.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Ellie’s hand shook your knee gently, urging that she wanted you to look up at her. When you did, you stared her down, a tightness behind your eyes.

“It’s nothi-”

“It’s someth-”

“It’s you!” Your voice came out in a whisper-yell, causing Ellie to look around at the other people outside. No one was paying attention to you. “Earlier when you laughed when Jesse called me your girlfriend. That’s my problem, Ellie.”

“Oh my god,” Ellie groaned, her hands rubbing at her face. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You stood in front of her, the steps making you taller than her.

“Cause that’s fucking ridiculous, I’m sorry.” Ellie turned around and began walking down the road towards her car, you hot on her trail.

“That’s ridiculous?” She stopped halfway down the block, turning to you. You were almost sure she led you out here to make sure no one would see you fighting.

“Yes, it’s fucking ridiculous because you always do this!” Ellie’s voice sounded tired as if she was at her breaking point with you. “You always make something out of nothing. I hate to break it to you but you are not my girlfriend and you never have been.”

“But I’m something.” You fought back tears, the sentence coming out more like a question.

“You’re-” Ellie sighed, looking away from you. “You’re my friend, okay? That’s what it is and if you can’t handle being my friend then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.”

This was as close to a breakup as you would get with Ellie.

“Friend.” The word sounded bitter on your tongue. “Friends don’t kiss each other, Ellie.” Your voice was small again.

“They do.” She stated matter-of-factly, “They do because we do. You have never been more to me than a friend.”

You couldn’t stop the tears in your eyes, you knew this was how she felt but never expected it to come out of her mouth. The 8 months you wasted now hitting you like a ton of bricks. Nodding you let out an ‘okay’ and began making your way down the street.

“Where are you going?” Ellie called after you, following you as you picked up your pace.

“I’m going home, I’m calling an Uber.” You didn’t turn to look at her but could feel her behind you.

“Don’t..” She sighed again. “Don’t do that, I can take you.”

“No, I’d rather not see you again.” Ellie’s footsteps behind you stilled causing you to turn around. The hurt on her face was evident, though no tears fell. She was just staring through you.

“Fine,” was all she said before turning around and heading back to the party.

You didn’t talk to or hear from Ellie for a month after the party. She didn’t call to make sure you made it home safe or text you to tell you she was sorry. There was nothing on her end or your end so you stopped talking. Dina and Cindy barely noticed the shift between the two of you with finals coming up so they never asked.

You were left to mourn what felt like a relationship, but never really was. There was a person who knew everything about you, how you scraped your knee when you were nine, and how much you hate blueberries, who no longer spoke to you. You wondered what she did with that information. If everytime she had a blueberry muffin she thought of you.

Not to your knowledge, Ellie did think about you. She thought about the way your hair smelt and how you used to sing along to throwback songs in the car with her. She thought about how she used to tell you the things she used to be scared to say out loud, and how you would rub at her shoulder to soothe her. She thought about the scrape and the blueberries and the way your eyes glossed over when you cried. She tried not to think about that night at that party and what your eyes looked like.

As summer came around and everyone packed their bags to go back home, you found yourself enjoying the heat from the sun as it prickled at your skin. Summer’s in Jackson were filled with fireworks, sidewalk chalk, and popsicles. Groups of teenagers hung out in the parking lot of the local convenience shop, drinking redbulls and laughing loudly with their friends.

Jackson was small so the fear of running into Ellie only grew as the summer went on. You did your best to avoid the places you knew she went, until you couldn’t. You found yourself inside the brightly lit convenience store right by Ellie’s house, looking through the candy section for gummy bears. It was late and this was the only store open close enough for you to ride your bike to so you took that risk.

As if fate was out to get you, Ellie walked into the store phone in hand and freckles more prominent than they usually were. Her face had a little bit of a red tint to it and her hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked relaxed, but more than that she looked fine. You don’t know why it bothered you, but it did.

Upon seeing you her entire demeanor changed. Her entire body became rigid, mirroring yours as she contemplated on what to do. She looked to the packages overflowing in your hand and laughed. She wanted to make a joke, but didn’t know how you would take it so she remained silent.

“Hey,” she pursed her lips as she approached you. You looked like you had seen a ghost and Ellie wanted to laugh, to kiss at your nose until you smiled but she doubted that would happen.

“Hey,” you responded flatly, not wanting to give her any satisfaction.

“Long time, no see,” she breathed out a short laugh, looking around. Ellie forgot what she came in here for.

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes and pushed past her, placing your things on the counter. The guy behind the counter began ringing them up, eyes looking in between you and Ellie as she followed you to the register.

“Do you think we can talk?” Her voice was hushed, smooth even, and god you missed it. You glanced at her, worry was written all over her face. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. When you got outside you placed your bag in the basket of your bike and turned towards her.

“I’ll walk you home, but after that I’m leaving, okay?” This was the rudest you have ever been to Ellie and you felt awful. You were just protecting yourself but you didn’t want her to see this as a way to wiggle back into your life.

“Cool, cool.” Ellie responded as she watched you walk with your bike, your hand firmly on the handles. She glanced over at you, heart warming at the sight of your face. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, finals went well.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you regret it?” You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at her, to see her reaction when she answered.

“No,” was all she said, making you roll your eyes.

“Why?”

“Cause I wasn’t ready,” she sighed and continued walking, hoping you would follow her. “I would’ve destroyed you.”

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t,” her green eyes looked dark in the illumination of the street lights. “Look at you, you’re here and you’re still you.”

“I’m not still me,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m scared-”

“-I was scared,” her voice over lapped yours, the bite in her tone back. “I was your first… whatever that was… but you weren’t mine.”

“Way to rub it in.”

“No, I mean,” she took a deep breath, “I did the relationship shit before and it didn’t end well. It made me into this. I think if you and me became real… it would’ve not only killed you but also me.”

“I think you should’ve let it happen. Give me that choice.”

“I did what was best for me,” Ellie’s voice was strong, she was sure of herself, “and for you, but you don’t have to believe that.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s okay.”

“Do you miss me?” you whispered.

“All the time,” she smiled to herself, “but I’m doing fine.”

When you got a good look at her you noticed the bags under her eyes, the worry line on her forehead that was growing. She even looked smaller. Nothing about her made it seem like she was doing okay, but it didn’t make sense to press her on the matter. It hurt, but a part of you understood it, understood her. The idea of getting close to someone terrified you, and you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t understand where she was coming from, but it didn’t help that her deep-seated fear was now being passed down to you.

“That’s good,” you gave her a fake smile, “I’m happy to hear it.”

“This is me,” she gestured towards her house before turning back to you and giving you one last smile, “You’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

ai audios:

#mine #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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buggyjuggie · 4 months

Note

Could you do MK1 Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, Raiden and MK11 Fujin with a street racer reader?

──★ ˙ ̟ Mk 1 Johnny, Kenshi, Kung lao, Raiden and Mk 11 Fujin x Gn! Street racer reader

「 ✦ Kenshi ✦ 」

* It’s not really his thing but is supportive of you

* Because of how long he’s been with the yakuza Kenshi is experienced in car repair i.e heists, robbery’s. So he tends to be the one who usually fixes up your car

* And because of the experience with the yakuza he’s not afraid of the police. It doesn’t matter where you are he’ll always find a way to get you out

* Takes you shopping for car parts and decorations when you need them

* Is your biggest supported hands down. When you win a race will immediately give hugs, praise and kisses.

* On his ,,Oyuban’’ skin you can see he has a little peace of fabric wrapped around his suit. When he was fixing your car after a recent race he decided to secure it to the rear view window (like behind it) as a love gesture

「 ✦ Raiden ✦ 」

* Street racing is very much out of his comfort zone so when he saw you doing it Raiden was very much intimidated

* Is always scared your going to be caught by the cops

* When the race starts he’ll always be anxious bitting his finger and by accident zapping himself, hoping that you’ll be back as safe as possible

* If you win a race he will use his thunder powers to make tiny fireworks

* As much as he’s scared for you Raiden will ALWAYS be present during your race’s. He won’t miss it for the world

* Made you a leg charm for good luck and a sign of support and love

「 ✦ Johnny Cage ✦ 」

* Expensive cars that drive fast speeds ? SIGN HIM UP

* You take care of the technicalities and mechanical stuff and he deals with decorating and making your car look as best as possible

* If you do illegal street racing and get caught he’s gonna bail you out, maybe be a bit mad but eventually forgets about it and asks to see you race again

* If you ever need to practice he’ll rent out a private racing venue for you

* Watches from the side, love struck, dont get me wrong if you ever got into an accident he has 911 on spee dial but also trusts you to not drive too recklessly

* Gets all the best stylists he has to make you look the best before the race

「 ✦ Kung lao ✦ 」

* He’s your little passenger princess

* Definitely got you an air freshener that looks like his hat

* If he’s not sitting beside you he’ll instead be on the radio giving you warnings and advice for what to do

* Kung lao + flag boy + jumpsuit

* He’d absolutely buy the best jumpsuit’s he can find to wow you before you race

* You think he’s ever used his hat as a flag ? Like he throws it into the air to signal ,,go”

「 ✦ Fujin ✦ 」

* Like Raiden this is out of his comfort zone, BUT he’s not against it

* Don’t get me wrong he doesn’t like it if you do it illegally, although he puts that aside because he sees that your having fun.

* Tries to take you as much as possible to legal racing venues, mostly for your safety (also he wouldn’t know what to do if you got caught)

* If you have longer hair before the race he’ll give you his hairband so your hair wont get the way and as a safety item (his way of saying ,,Be safe”)

* After a race the night will be finished with a cup of tea and cuddling in his bed

* Mostly comes to have a good time and to cheer you on

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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markhoffmans-certified-slut · 1 year

Text

First Time With Billy Loomis

Pairing: Billy Loomis x female!reader

Word count: 5.3K

Warnings/contents: Smut: Fingering, blow job, rougher sex, various sex positions, orgasms, light dirty talk, light daddy kink. Strong language. Fluff.

Notes: I wrote this… really fast. I proofread it because I finished this around 5 am last night. I enjoyed writing this one a lot and I really hope that you guys enjoy this. The chapter advances fast, but I feel like that is what sex with Billy would be like: fast, rough, hard— then having a few moments of rest before going again.

<>~<>~<>

The weather was awful: the man on the news had previously in the day said that it was supposed to storm all night long, and so far, he was right.

The rain started at 9 PM and it hadn’t even lightened up by now at almost 11 PM. You didn’t mind much, listening happily to the loud thunder and the rain hitting hard against the windows by your front door. You yawned lightly, watching a boring movie and yet being unable to find anything interesting so you’d simply settled. It had been about five minutes since your last text from Billy. You wondered if he might’ve fallen asleep since he’d woken up early this morning.

Letting the movie continue playing, you stood and walked towards your small kitchen and raided the fridge. You really needed to go shopping, the only thing edible it seemed was the take out box of Chinese leftovers you had from two nights ago when Billy and Stu were over for movie night.

You settled when your stomach growled, grabbing the container full of orange chicken as well as the fried rice container and shut the fridge. The microwave was convenient for things such as this; late night snacking when you knew that you shouldn’t eat, but being unable to sleep and being hungry was never a good mix.

Reaching for the microwave and opening the door, you smiled at the sound of thunder booming across the sky overhead. This was the perfect weather to read. If only it wasn’t so late and your eyes were tired you might be interested in picking up the book you were currently reading.

A rapid knock on the door made you jump. Quickly checking your phone that sat face up on the counter and seeing no message from Billy, you cautiously walked towards the door and peeked out of the peephole. Billy stood there, nearly soaked. You opened the door quickly and moved aside.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, shutting and locking the door behind the man as he pushed his wet hair back from his face. “I figured you fell asleep.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He said simply, stripping his coat off and hanging it over the stool beneath your counter. “Smells like leftovers.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips that you easily returned. His lips were cold, worrying you.

“You’re soaked,” you said, gesturing to the man to stay while you went to get a towel from the bathroom. It was a good thing that you had just done laundry and all of your towels were clean and smelt fresh. You walked back towards your front door, watching Billy strip his shirt off. “Here, dry off so you can get warm.” You took the shirt for him, trading him the towel. He wrapped the towel around his shoulders and kicked off his shoes with a sigh.

“Thanks. I hope I’m not bothering you.” With a smile, you reached forward and wiped a drop of water that was sliding down his cheek away from his handsome face.

“You’re never a bother. I’m sorry you got so wet.” He gave a quick shrug and unbutton his jeans, nearly making you flush as you looked away and walked back around the counter towards the microwave.

“I had to park far away. I figured it would be fine. I have clothes here.”

“They’re in the top drawer of my dresser,” you said with your back turned to the man as you watched your bowl turn slowly in the microwave, stomach grumbling again at the smell. Without a word, Billy walked towards your bedroom, knowing your apartment like the back of his hand. He’d spent many days and nights here with you. Even whole weekends when neither of you were busy.

You stopped the timer at 30 seconds and pulled the hot bowl out, using your fork to stir the food up. You gave a soft sound in content, excited to taste the food that had been calling your name the previous night. You were happy now that you saved it instead of eating it.

With a soft gasp, you jumped slightly before giving a soft chuckle when Billy wrapped his cold arms around you and leaned in to kiss your neck. You shivered at his touch.

“Your nose is freezing. Go get under the blanket, silly.” You were willing to give him the blanket on the sofa that you were using throughout the night to warm him up. He gave a soft hum, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before he let you go and went to sit on the sofa, wrapping the blanket around himself. “You can put whatever you want on.” You called to the man. “I couldn’t find anything to watch and just stuck with this movie.”

Bringing your bowl to the sofa and sitting snug beside the man, you watched him scroll through the channels that you had as he wrapped an arm around your warm body. You kissed his forearm before you leaned up and took a bite of the hot food; you nearly burned your tongue, but it was too delicious for you to hold out on. With a soft huff after you swallowed, you took another bite and hummed in content.

Billy put on a movie, a comedy that he had always liked, and turned his attention to you. You felt the mans heavy stare and sent him a small smile— something he returned before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You gave in, leaning gently into the man and returning his slow kiss. The bowl was warm on your lap, slowly starting to cool down but you decided to risk eating cold leftovers for the taste of Billy’s soft lips.

He raised his hand, gently gripping your chin and teasing your lip with his tongue. You gave a soft giggle and returned the gesture with your tongue against his mouth. Before Billy shoved his tongue past your lips, you pulled back and sent him a smile.

“Let me eat in peace,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from the man as you turned back to your bowl.

“You leaned into it.”

“I know.” Billy’s fingers gently caressed your shoulder as he turned his gaze back to the television while you finished up your food. If he was going to get what he wanted tonight, he knew he’d have to be patient either way.

<>~<>~<>

As soon as your bowl of food was gone, you snuggled into Billy’s side, engulfed in his warmth from being dry and in your snuggly apartment. The weather was still bad— thunder booming loudly, hard enough that you swore you felt the building shake. The rain was falling hard and you were glad that Billy was here with you, holding you comfortingly and occasionally pressing a kiss to your head.

The two of you were going on 5 months of being together and you were nearly inseparable. Billy had been the best boyfriend that you’d had in the past— something you were incredibly relieved about. Having nothing but bad experiences thus far, you finally felt safe in Billy’s arms when the two of you napped together. Having him around just felt right.

With a yawn, you pulled away from Billy for a moment to stretch your body out. He quickly looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Sleepy?”

“No— I napped at like 6 o’clock. The weather is just making me think about how many naps I take when it storms.” He gave a soft hum in response, watching you as you shifted on the sofa in order to stay close to the man and let your sleeping foot stretch out onto the coffee table. You looked at Billy and smiled softly. “Are you tired?”

“Not at all.” You hummed, leaning closer to the man.

“Good.” Giving the man a soft kiss was your intention, but instead he leaned closer to you and extended your original plan. You didn’t fight it, pressing a hand to his thigh and kissing him back. The kiss was sweet— much like your previous— it was slow. Like before, you felt engulfed in the man and didn’t want it to end. You felt this way nearly every time that the two of you had made out.

He was an excellent kisser; his taste was simple and his smell was immaculate. Everything about him being so close to you made you desperate for more. He reached down, placing his hand on your leg and giving it a soft squeeze as he leaned closer into you. Shifting along with the man, you leaned gently back on the sofa with him on top of you. Your arms circled around his shoulders, keeping him close as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You gave a soft sound in content and shifted beneath the man, seemingly only making him press closer. One of your legs dangled off the sofa, your other between his legs. Billy pressed fully against you, an obvious hardness between his legs that made your cheeks flush. It was far from the first time Billy had gotten hard when the two of you were making out. It was also far from the first time that you had helped him out and let him touch you as well.

However, the two of you have never had sex.

After being in relationships where you were used purely for your body, you wanted to wait; to let the man prove that he was with you for you, not for your waistline and breasts.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t miss sex. That didn’t mean that you weren’t excited to feel him inside of you. In fact, it was far from it. You tingled at the thought of his fingers pushing inside of you again while he sucked on your neck. You gave a quick exhale when your lips parted for Billy to turn his head, but you were as quick as he was to connect your lips again. You grabbed tight onto the mans shoulders, giving a soft hum when he shifted his hips against you.

You were easily convinced by the man to give into his sexual desires. You shared them, thinking purely of the way his cock looked and how it felt in your mouth. You didn’t want to wait any longer, and you knew that Billy didn’t want to either. It seemed unspoken at the moment while you pulled on his dark blue shirt by the collar and ached to keep him closer. Your opposite hand buried in his hair, giving it a light tug that earned a soft grunt from the man over you.

Using your grip on his head to your advantage, you leaned your own back and gently guided his head down. He didn’t hesitate, his lips moving to your neck while your pulse beat rapidly beneath him with every kiss. You closed your eyes, the sound of the movie long drawn out by the sound of the rain and your racing thoughts. Billy was quick to give you a love bite that made you yelp before he kissed your skin again.

Slowly, he licked a trail along your warm skin and up to your chin. You looked back at the man, getting a few seconds to gaze into his eyes before he pressed his lips back to yours. The sight you saw was different than other times the two of you were in this position; he was aching for you like you were aching for him. You could tell by the lustful gaze in his dark eyes that you loved so much.

Billy wasn’t always the most expressive man, but his eyes told you everything that you needed to know. His love for you, his desperation for you, and right now his lust for you.

You were certain that your eyes matched his gaze. Your actions certainly did. Your lips were feverish against his, arms grabbing him tightly as you wrapped your leg around his waist and pushed his hips down against yours. Billy gave into his urge, grinding his hips against you and earned a sweet sound in return. His teeth caught your bottom lip, gently nibbling on it and giving it a soft suck before he let you go and pulled back with heavy breaths.

“Wanna go to your room?”

“I really do.” Both of you were out of breath, but he was quick to stand and grab your hand to help you as well. He pressed another kiss to your lips, one you leaned into quickly.

The two of you stumbled towards your bedroom, nearly tripping over several things on the way. Something fell and hit the floor with a ‘thud’ but your mind was occupied on Billy’s tongue. When his back hit a wall, the one right beside your bedroom door, he turned the two of you around and pushed you back against it, earning a grunt from you in return as he shoved his knee between your legs and yanked your hips towards him.

He shoved your head up, sucking on your neck with every quick kiss to your skin. You gave a quiet moan as you shifted against Billy’s thigh that pressed between your legs. You ached deeply inside for the man, this rush of sexual tension between you two only made each kiss and every touch that much better.

You reached down to grab at him, but he caught your hand and pressed it against the wall, biting your neck and making you yelp. His fingers easily pressed to your clit over the pajama pants that you wore. You let out a soft moan just as he went to shove his lips back against yours in a teeth-clattering kiss.

Before you could even think, Billy picked you up, slamming you back against the wall with your legs around his waist. You bit his lip by accident in return to his quick movements, but he didn’t even falter as he shoved his erection against your aching clit. You couldn’t wait for the clothing to come off and feel him inside of you for the first time.

“Mmm, Billy—“ You mumbled against his lips between hot, wet kisses. Neither of you cared about the drool on your chins, instead you were too focused on each other— the way Billy’s hips grinded against you in the front of your mind. Billy moved back a bit, sliding your shirt up to your waist. You quickly leaned closer so that he could strip the clothing off before pressing you back against the wall and tossing it somewhere. You hissed at the cold wall against your warm back, but it didn’t last long.

Billy finally pulled you away from the wall, walking to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed, he got on top of you again, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp on while you ran your fingers up his shirt and felt along his light abs and to his chest.

Before he leaned back in to kiss you, Billy stripped his shirt and let it fall off the bed, grabbing your hands and sliding them up his chest, smirking at you when you bit your lip and smiled.

“You like what you see?” He asked in a teasing tone.

“I always like what I see.”

This wasn’t the first time the two of you had ended up in this position. But you both knew tonight was going to be different. There was a certain feeling in Billy’s gut that you wanted him this time. Your kisses were more desperate than the last.

“Then let’s get this off and let me admire your body, too.” He said, sliding his hand around your back and unclipping your bra. You shifted, making it easier on the man as he slid it off and tossed it aside, eyes falling to your breasts and giving a soft sigh. He reached down, fingers giving your left nipple a soft pinch and watching your other perk up quickly as you whined at the touch. “Do you want me?” He asked quietly. He knew the answer, but something told him to ask. When you confided in Billy about your past relationships, he took it to heart. He’d fallen in love with you over the years that you’d known each other. He didn’t want you to feel like you were just a sex toy to him— no matter how horny he was.

“I want you so bad,” you said back in a low tone. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming.” He gave a soft chuckle and leaned down to kiss you.

“I’ll fuck you until your legs are shaking and you’re a blubbering mess.” Your fingers tingled at his words. Nobody had ever made your body react the way that Billy did.

He reached down, his fingers sliding into your pajama pants through the loose hem and pressing to your clit over the underwear that you wore; they were nothing special, plain black that didn’t match your pink bra.

You shifted your hips against his fingers as he started rubbing an antagonizingly slow circle against you. You gave a whine that made him laugh against your lips.

“You’re desperate, aren’t you?” He teased, gently biting your bottom lip before kissing it. “Patience, baby.”

“We’ve both been patient long enough,” you spoke, but Billy gave a hum in thought.

“I think I’ll make you wait a little bit longer.” You gave a disappointed groan and let your head fall back onto the comfortable bed. “Don’t worry— I won’t give you nothing. I’ll make sure you’re just barely brimming over the edge when I shove my cock inside of you.” He moved back, his fingers pulling your pajama pants down off your hips with your help. His fingers caught your underwear at the last second, tugging them down and moving so that he could slide them off of your legs.

He lifted your legs up, grabbing them with one hand while he tossed the clothing away, leaving you bare beneath him. Billy put your ankles on his shoulders and took his time gazing across your body.

“Every time I see it, it gets better.” He spoke quietly, his fingers sliding along your inner thighs and pressing to your clit. You gave a soft whimper at the touch before Billy moved his fingers down and teased your entrance. At the feeling, he immediately laughed. “Someone sure is wet tonight.”

“I told you— I’m ready for you.” He gave a thoughtful hum and abruptly shoved two of his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, earning a moan in return as he started to pump them inside of you. “Oh, Billy—“ You whined out, wiggling your hips against his hand. He placed his other hand on your hips and pressed you into the bed. “Mmm— Billy, please… move them faster.” He did as you asked, moving his fingers quicker inside of you and giving a soft kiss to your ankle before he shoved a third inside of you and earned a glorious moan from you just as the thunder boomed overhead.

Billy moved, letting your feet lay on the bed and resting down on his stomach. He didn’t waste any time before he put his tongue on your pussy, sliding it from the wetness against his fingers all the way to your clit that he gently sucked on and earned another sweet sound in return from. The sound of you moaning his name made him throb in the sweatpants that he was wearing. He could never hear it enough.

He swirled his tongue around your clit, fingers curling deep inside of you and making you moan out his name again. Your toes curled at the sensation of his warm tongue licking quickly at your clit and his fingers teasing your g-spot. He gave a suck to your clit before he started kissing along your hips towards your leg. Billy left a bite mark on your inner thigh that made you yell out. He kissed the spot, knowing that it was going to bruise— just what he wanted. A wordless way to say that he was here between your legs like nobody else could be ever again.

Your hips struggled against his mouth when he went back to your clit. He could feel the intensity building up; he knew for sure that you were going to have an orgasm soon, so with one final suck, he pulled his mouth and fingers away.

You looked at the man with a betrayed look, one that earned a teasing laugh.

“I told you that I was going to leave you brimming to the edge.” He spoke teasingly, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips that you quickly returned. “Now get on your knees and suck my cock.” Flustered, you were quick to get up and watch the man strip his pants and boxers , letting his aching erection finally be free from the clothing. You got on your knees on the floor at the end of the bed and leaned in to take the head into your mouth.

You could taste the pre-cum that was sliding down his shaft. With a hard suck, you pulled back and let him pop free from your mouth. He gave a soft sigh, hands reaching for your head while you leaned down and licked his balls. Billy watched you quietly, knowing that you knew what you were doing with him. Your tongue slid up his shaft before you engulfed the tip of his cock back into your warm mouth and started to bob your head along him, taking as much of him as you could into your mouth and reaching down with your free hand to hold his balls, occasionally gripping at them with your fingers.

You gave a quiet hum around him, shifting on your knees and pressing your legs together; you were aching for the man, sucking on his cock only made it worse. You were imagining how it would feel inside of you when Billy suddenly thrusted his hips up a couple of times and gagged you with his cock. Following suit, you took more of him into your mouth with every bob of your head, sucking on him and earning a quiet sound from the man as he held tighter onto your hair.

He twitched in your mouth as you sucked hard and slowly worked your way towards teasing his cockhead.

“Fuck,” he mumbled quietly, tugging gently on your hair while you started to deep-throat him again. Your fingers gripped tight at his thighs as he would thrust his hips up occasionally to gag you around him. Billy gave out another sigh before he pulled your head back and his cock slipped from your mouth. Drool slid down your chin as you met his gaze. He guided you up and pressed a kiss to your lips before he pulled you up with him as he stood and turned to shove you onto the bed.

“Scoot back.” You did as he said, moving to where your head would rest on the pillows you had. He sat between your legs, cock throbbing in his hand as he pressed a kiss to your lower stomach. “Ready?” You bit your lip and nodded, eyes following his every movement as he often did with you. Billy moved closer, lifting your legs to rest loosely around his waist.

You shivered as the tip of his cock pressed against your aching entrance. Without a second to spare, Billy started to push himself inside of you, his grip on your legs tight as he watched you lay your head back and moan. He closed his eyes, letting out a quiet moan of his own as he pushed all of himself inside of you.

Billy didn’t wait long, almost immediately starting to thrust his hips and pulling almost all of the way out before shoving it all back inside of you. Your eyes seemed to roll back into your head at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you.

“Oh, f-fuck, Billy—!“ You moaned weakly, hands reaching down to hold his own against your thighs. “God, please go faster,” you finally met his gaze, eyes desperate as you squeezed his hands. “Please, daddy— please.” He sent you a small, teasing smile at the nickname you had given him long ago. It was an accident at first, but he had said that he wanted you to call him it and it had stuck quickly.

Billy started to thrust his hips faster, earning a pleasured moan from you; it was clear that you’d been aching for this as much as he had, so he decided to give you what you wanted and started to rock his hips even faster against you.

Each thrust seemed to earn him another, sometimes different, sound in pleasure. Billy lifted your legs, letting your ankles rest on his shoulder and leaning up slightly, burying himself further inside of you and earning a loud squeal in return.

He gave a soft chuckle and panted lightly, the feeling of you clenching around him was better than he thought it would be. You were so ready for him, but you were so tight. Squeezing around him with every rough thrust inside of you. Suddenly, he pulled out of you.

“Put your ass up in the air. I’m gonna fuck you in doggy.” You quickly nodded and moved onto your knees, resting down on your elbows. He pressed a soft kiss to your butt before he shoved himself inside of you without warning and nearly made you scream. Billy didn’t start slow and teasing this time. Instead he was fucking you as if he’d done this to you a thousand times, simply knowing your body by heart.

His fingers grabbed at your waist, but he pulled a hand back to give your ass a slap that made you moan as you wiggled back against him. Billy leaned over you, pressing down against your body and wrapping his arm around your neck, letting your chin rest against his forearm while he fucked you as fast as he could in the new position. You shifted beneath the man, being as close as humanly possible while moaning almost pathetically.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head and moved to grab the headboard with one hand, grabbing your ass with the other and occasionally giving it a rough slap that left it red. Billy moved you, lifting your upper body up with his arm and pressing you flush back against his chest. Your head laid back on his shoulder, your hair tickling his nose before he leaned down and kissed your shoulder where he could.

You were quickly becoming a moaning, blubbering mess against the man as he shoved deep inside of you. This time, he reached around and started to rub your clit, his lips kissing your shoulder as you moaned loudly. You could barely move back against the man as you reached your first orgasm, digging the back of your head into his shoulder.

Billy pushed you forward, pressing your hands to the headboard as he pulled back to watch himself fuck you from behind. He gave a soft moan, glancing at you as your shoulders leaned against the bed frame. You moaned again for the man, returning a few of his lagged thrusts by pushing your hips back against him. He leaned forward and bit your shoulder this time.

“Ah! Billy!” You yelled out, squeezing the mans cock tighter than before as he grabbed rough at your waist. You knew that you would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t care. The only thing on your mind was Billy’s cock slamming inside of you and the headboard starting to hit the wall along with the creaking of the bed.

Once again, Billy pulled back and let himself slide out of you, this time turning you and setting you on his legs. He pressed a kiss to your lips, slowly bringing you down with him as he laid on the bed. You shifted on the man, trying not to break the heated kiss as you pushed his cock inside of you. Billy’s hands groped at your ass, lips hot against your own as you started to rock against him.

Finally, you pulled back, leaning back onto his legs and rolling your hips on him. He met your gaze with a dark look in his eyes, fingers holding onto you as if you might disappear. You were flushed, sweaty— but he could only think about you rocking your hips against him. Billy stilled you, starting to thrust up inside of you and giving a soft moan as your breasts bounced with every movement.

You went along, starting to bounce along on his cock until he stopped and let you do the work. Your thighs started to burn quick, but watching Billy lay his head back and gulp was enough to keep you going all night if he asked you to.

A quiet moan left Billy, something you’d heard several times and were shocked by every time. Billy didn’t seem like the kind of guy to moan during sex.

The sound was like heaven to your ears.

When you started to slow your pace, Billy stopped you and leaned himself up onto his elbows, meeting your gaze as he panted along with you.

“Lay down.” Billy moved with you, pulling your hips against him and shoving himself inside of you, making you moan out loudly. He leaned in this time, down on his elbows, his nose pressed to your shoulder as he started to thrust inside of you.

Your toes curled s you wrapped your legs around his waist and clenched at his shoulders. You could feel another orgasm coming quick with every steady thrust from the man.

“Fuck, daddy I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! Please, daddy— don’t stop! Don’t stop!” He didn’t say anything, but he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and continued at his pace, giving a soft grunt as you clenched around him and pressed up against him as you reached another orgasm. “Will you cum in me?” You asked the man after a few desperate pants. He gave a soft hum and pulled back to meet your gaze.

“I sure as hell will.” He pressed his hands flat on either side of your head, watching your face as you moaned out; Billy thrusted his hips quick against you, knowing that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

For this round at least.

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and biting his lip.

“Fuck,” he mumbled. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” He met your eyes again and panted. “I’m gonna cum.” You reached up, fingers sliding through his hair.

“Cum as deep inside of me as you can so I can feel you dripping out of me.” He bit the inside of his cheek, not letting the higher moans he could give slip from his mouth; instead, he grunted with every thrust, though only giving a few before he quickly shoved all of himself inside of you and moaned quietly as he came. He gave a few slow thrusts afterwards before he let himself rest and licked his lips.

“Goddamn,” he moved away from you, laying on the bed beside you and wrapping an arm around you as you moved closer. You were both still panting, coming down from the high of sex together. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

“Mmm, ditto.” He chuckled at your sleepy tone and pressed a kiss to your head.

“Is that all you got in you? Just one round?” He teased, but you were quick to fire back.

“Give me five minutes and I could ride your dick for hours.”

“Maybe I should hold you to that.”

“Hold me against whatever you want, baby. If it’s you, I’d certainly not mind.”

#scream franchise #scream 1996 #scream #scream billy loomis #billy loomis #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x female reader smut #billy loomis x female reader fluff #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x reader smut #billy loomis x reader fluff #smut #fluff #scream smut #scream fluff #billy loomis story

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https-yeonjun · 3 months

Text

the seven stages of you and i (c.sb)

summary. when you first met soobin, you knew he was going to play a lead role in your life. you were going to make sure of it. you just didn't know what to expect.

or: the story of a boy, a girl, and the turbulence that fills the space between them.

wc. 14,444 words

genre. angst

tags. soobin x fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers to ???, best friends to lovers, minors DNI, negligible amount of smut (implied virgin!soobin x virgin!reader, first time, protected sex) featuring beomgyu, taehyun, and kai from txt, yuna from itzy, and arin from oh my girl

a/n. repost; this was also finally edited!!! classic quintessential fay angst!! we're so back!!! i’ve been writing this story for two months. it’s the longest thing i’ve written and i’m super proud of it. please let me know if i missed any warnings or made any typos. i really hope you all enjoy it.

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you can vividly remember the first time you ever saw soobin.

it was the summer before third grade started.

it had been an unbearably hot summer and with the school year looming just a month away, you were dreading going back to school and trying so hard to not think about having to meet your new teacher and make new friends.

so to take you mind off the soul crushing pressures of elementary school, you begged your mom to let you go to the park. she refused, claiming she had to work, but the two of you made a compromise and you settled for riding your bike around the cul-de-sac where she could still see you from the dining room table.

you had been riding for thirty minutes, quickly growing tired of the rays of the sun beating down on your skin. you were about to call it a day, but that’s when you saw it.

the gray honda civic driving past you, the sun reflecting on the hood of the car. the woman in the front seat, slowly waking up from her slumber. her husband tapping her shoulder excitedly, looking at his new home in awe.

and him.

the young boy staring out the window with wide eyes as the car pulled into the driveway of the house beside yours.

you darted inside to tell your mom you had new neighbors.

at dinner time, she took you over with some food. “hello, we live right next door.” she introduced herself to the woman that opened the door. “i just thought you guys could use a warm meal with moving and everything.” behind her legs, you could see the little boy peeking at you.

she invited you in and you remember the way their house looked so devoid of life. what was supposed to be the living room was a sea of boxes. your mother sat beside his mother on the old brown leather couch that sat in the back of the room.

you caught soobin’s gaze, watching you taking in the sight of his new home. he looked away when he noticed you looking at him. you moved to sit beside him on the floor.

“i saw you,” he said when he registered your presence beside him.

“what?” you were slightly taken aback.

“outside.” he clarified. “you were on your bike.”

“oh,” you muttered. “my name is y/n.” you reached out to shake his hand. he looked at you, a bit puzzled, yet mirrored the gesture, his grip gentle and feeble.

“i’m soobin.”

“how old are you?”

“i’m almost 10.” he answered, glancing down at his hands.

“why did you move here?”

“my dad got a job.”

“do you want to ride bikes tomorrow?”

“i don’t know how.” soobin looked at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, his shy demeanor even more pronounced.

“i can teach you.” you offered.

and the next morning, at 11 sharp, soobin showed up in front of your house ready to learn. after that afternoon, you decided that you liked him and he was going to be your best friend. he didn’t talk much but he always listened to you, with a goofy smile plastered on his face. when he did talk, he answered all your questions thoughtfully. and most importantly, even after he fell down multiple times, he still showed up at your house the next day, waiting to learn.

by the time you got to middle school, everyone knew that you were two peas in a pod. from the day you met, everywhere you went, soobin wasn’t far behind, following you like a lost puppy. you always carpooled together; you always ate lunch together; you were even in all the same clubs.

and so when eighth grade began, you two were separated for the first time in five years and it was so hard for you to adjust to not seeing him every second of every day.

the first morning of the school year, you stopped yourself from asking your mom where soobin was when he wasn’t at your car waiting for you. you wandered through the halls to your regular lunch table a little surprised and mostly disappointed when you didn’t see him sitting with an extra cookie he always got from the lunch lady. after school, you sat awkwardly, alone, on the bench outside of the school building waiting for your mom to pick you up.

when you got home, you didn’t even bother going up to your room. you threw your backpack on the couch and made a beeline for his house. you flopped onto his bed with a sigh as soon as you got to his room, the softness of the mattress cradling you. he didn’t look up from where he sat at his desk doing his homework, but he acknowledged your arrival with a quiet hello.

“how was your first day of high school?” you asked, emphasizing the last part of your question.

“it was okay.” he scribbled something in his book.

“just okay?” you pressed.

“it was kind of weird.” he turned his chair around and finally looked up at you.

“did you miss me?”

“yeah, a little,” he confessed. a soft warmth bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

“i think i might try out for the football team,” he blurted out of nowhere. “or maybe basketball? i don’t know yet.” you bursted out in laughter.

“did i say something funny?”

“you have no athletic bone in your body.” you countered, still chuckling.

“we don’t know that.”

“oh, we do,”

he moved to join you on the bed, books in hand, and you watched him with a fondness that didn’t need words as he made himself comfortable.

“i always tell you not to wear your outside clothes on my bed.” he jokingly admonished.

“do you like your school?”

“i mean, it’s only my first day. but it was okay.”

you paused, both to process what he just said and to figure out how to word what you really wanted to say. “i don’t want you to forget about me or stop hanging out with me or whatever.”

“you’re literally going to the same school next year.” he teased you.

“i know, but still.”

“you’re a hard person to forget about, y/n.”

“you’re just saying that,” you felt the blood rush up to your cheeks, and subsequently rushed to hide your face in his sheets.

“no, i mean, you literally wouldn’t let me forget about you.” he laughed and in response, you threw a pillow at him.

but in the back of your mind, you knew he was right – you couldn’t let him forget about you. and as the days rolled on, you made it a point to go over to his house for hours after school. at least for the first month and a half of the smeester. that was until the demands of school grew and he started having to stay after school for clubs and going over to people’s houses for projects. by the time the holidays rolled around, your moments together were reduced to the seconds you saw him in the mornings when you were both leaving for school. and for the most part, it stayed like that going into the summer.

the summer after eighth grade, you saw soobin a total of three times.

the first time you saw him was on memorial day. your dad, not exactly the biggest fan of your plan to stay home the entire summer, pushed you out of the house to go to his family’s barbecue. you went to soobin’s house with a tray of cookies (because you never go to someone’s house empty handed, your mom told you beforehand). he greeted you with a casual wave before disappearing upstairs to play video games with his friends. you lingered around his house for ten minutes, until you felt completely uncomfortable by yourself, when you slipped away back to your room, cocooning yourself in your bed, tears tracing paths down your cheeks, soaking into your sheets beneath you.

the second time was sometime right after the fourth of july. his dad was taking him on a fishing trip and you just so happened to be getting the mail as they were leaving. you tried to pretend not to see him, eyes fixed on the ground, your heart pounding. and you thought it worked. but later that day, a message lit up your phone screen – soobin confessing that he missed you. you deliberated for two hours before typing out a guarded response: “me too.” two weeks stretched out like an eternity before his next message came.

the third time was actually the day before your first day of high school when he came over to your house under orders from his mother. he stood at your bedroom door, a mixture of apprehension and determination etched across his face.

when you opened the door, all the feelings of abandonment came flooding through your mind – every time you cried thinking about how he was ignoring you, every time your parents had to force you to get out of the house and breathe in fresh air, everything came at once.

“what are you doing here?” you spat at him. your words were a shield, sharp and defensive.

“my mom said i should come check on you.” he responded, his hand absently massaging the back of his neck. you yielded, allowing him to enter the room, but he hesitated, lingering by the door, too afraid to sit down.

“are you nervous about high school?” he ventured.

you met his gaze, scanning his eyes for sincerity. “not really.”

“i’m sorry,” he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “i’ve been pretty shitty to you this year.”

“yeah, you have been pretty shitty.”

“i meant it when i said i missed you.”

“i know.”

“are we good?”

he didn’t really apologize, you understood that. but sometimes, especially in that moment, it seems easier to forgive him than confront him about how horrible he made you feel. and so you concede, not realizing that you’re setting the precedent for you guys to saunter in and out of each other's lives as you please. “yeah, we are.”

you invite him to sit on the bed with you and he joins you.

“so, what is high school really like?” you ask, trying to clear the air of tension that lingered.

“well, it’s nothing like high school musical,” he began.

and although you were apprehensive about forgiving him so quickly, you couldn’t deny how good this felt. sitting here with him, not thinking about the future or the past. just being here talking about nothing and everything at the same time. if you could, you would have captured this moment and put it in a snow globe to look at everyday.

the next morning, you stood at the threshold of the school building, soobin towering beside you. as you walked into the school together, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere. soobin seemed to be a lot more popular than he led on and he navigated the halls with a confidence that belied his usually reserved nature. students and teachers alike greeted him as you walked through the halls.

“okay, mr. superstar,” you teased.

“well, i am class president.” he tells you shyly.

“why didn’t i know this?” you wondered aloud. he offered you a nonchalant shrug but continued guiding you through the labyrinth of corridors that made up the school.

as you approached your classroom, the reality of where you were dawned on you. you turned to soobin, seeking reassurance from him. “i’ll see you at lunch?”

“yeah,” he affirmed.

with a final smile, you slipped into the classroom, taking a seat beside a girl who was looking at you with wide eyes.

“you know soobin?” she blurted out when you sat down.

your brows furrowed in confusion. “yeah?” you answered, taken aback.

“how?”

“uh, he’s my friend.” you explained, scanning the room for an empty seat.

a spark of hope lit up her eyes. “can you introduce me to him?”

you hesitated, your discomfort growing with each passing second. “i don’t even know you.”

a wave of awkwardness washed over the both of you. without waiting for a response, you quickly gathered your things, seeking refuge in a different seat on the other side of the classroom. what the hell was that? you thought to yourself as the other students filed into the class.

save for that strange moment in the first period, the rest of your classes went by completely unremarkable until lunch time rolled around. you arrived at the cafeteria fifteen minutes after lunch started. you were trying to navigate the way between hundreds of bodies in the hallway and found yourself in a completely different wing of the school. why does a high school have to be this big? you asked yourself when you collided with a girl.

“are you okay?” you asked her.

“yeah, i’m just trying to find the cafeteria.” her response came with a note of relief.

“me too. i’m y/n.”

“i’m yuna and this school is way too big.” she remarked, a trace of exasperation lacing her words.

“yeah, i got a tour this morning and i’m still confused.”

should we ask someone for help?” yuna suggested.

“yeah,” together you venture into a nearby classroom to ask a teacher for help.

meanwhile, in the cafeteria, soobin took advantage of your little detour to offer a preemptive warning to his friends about how to act around the freshman girl that was going to be eating lunch with them.

“i’m serious, you guys, don’t be weird.”

“when have we ever been weird?” beomgyu asked, but his playful tone is punctuated by a stray fry launched by kai, which found its target on taehyun’s head.

soobin gave beomgyu a knowing look.

“we won’t be weird, okay?” his friend reassured him. “what’s with the girl anyways?”

“she’s my best friend and i don’t want you guys to scare her.”

you finally make it to the cafeteria with yuna by your side. soobin introduced you to his friends, and you briefly remember them from memorial day. as the lunch period dragged on, you sat quietly, observing soobin in his element. you never felt this way before, but watching the way he interacted with his friends made him a little more attractive in your eyes. there was a magnetism in his confidence and you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts that had never crossed your mind before.

and from them, you found yourself yearning for those stolen glances, fingers brushing in passing and shared laughter that lingered just a little longer than usual.

being best friends with someone older than you had its perks, especially when that person was as smart as soobin. you were pretty good at biology freshman year, and chemistry was okay too. but no one warned you that knowing the powerhouse of the cell or all the symbols of the periodic table was enough to equip you for an honors physics class.

even though you stayed up for three nights in a row, you didn’t expect to do so bad on the unit test. it was embarrassingly bad. like bringing the class average down bad. like being handed back a folded test bad. you opened your test packet hesitantly, only to quickly close it again upon seeing the harsh, red “36/100” glaring back at you. the room seemed to close in around you, the disappointment heavy in the air.

after class, you went to meet your teacher. “are you sure there’s no way i could get some extra credit or something?” you asked, your voice carrying a mix of desperation and determination.

“y/n,” he said, his tone firm. “if i give you extra credit, i have to give everyone extra credit,” he advised. “if you want a better grade, i suggest you study harder.”

“fucking asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you left the classroom. the slam of the door echoed down the empty hallway.

yuna, who was waiting for you outside your class, scowled when she saw your demeanor. “what’s wrong?”

“he’s such an asshole.”

“what did he do this time?”

you handed her your test and slung your backpack onto your shoulder in frustration. her face scrunched up when she saw the red ink that scattered the page. she reached out to gently caress your hair in a soothing gesture. “oh, honey…”

“and he wouldn’t let me do extra credit.”

“didn’t your boyfriend take this class last year?” yuna asked, trying to find a solution.

“boyfriend?” you replied. you knew where she was going with this, but you wanted to see if she would actually say it. but you knew she was never one to back down. “soobin?” she asks.

“not my boyfriend.” you remind her in a singsong voice, causing her to roll her eyes.

“well, i’m pretty sure he took this class last year. just ask him to tutor you.”

you hum, pulling out your phone to text him.

to soob: i hate to ask you this but i really need your help

from soob: you know i’m always gonna help you what do you need

to soob: one quiz away from failing physics can my bestest friend in the whole entire world help me

from soob: you know you don’t need to butter me up but i’ll take it

to soob: you know i love you so much right? can you come over tonight?

that evening, you meticulously laid out your physics notes and textbook on the kitchen island. you were stressing a lot, and in an attempt to calm your racing thoughts, you decided to bake. the sounds of the mixer and the clinking of the measuring cups was always something that soothed your anxious thoughts.

as the timer chimed, you pulled the tray of cookies out from the oven. just as you set them on the cooling rack, the doorbell rang, sending a jolt of nervous anticipation back through you.

you open the door to soobin.

“thank you again for doing this,” you said as you welcomed him inside. you guided him to the island. “i made cookies, so please feel free to take some.”

his eyes brightened with surprise. “you made cookies? i didn’t know you could bake.”

“i started in middle school,” you confessed, a hint of vulnerability crept into your voice. “my therapist said it was a good way to process my emotions. i don’t know.”

“you’re in therapy?”

“yeah, since middle school.”

“oh.”

the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted. you both settle into your seats. the tutoring session began, but despite your best efforts, you found it hard to focus. the equations and diagrams that soobin so easily drew out seemed to blur together and your mind drifted elsewhere. the only thing you could concentrate on was soobin’s long, veiny hands as they gracefully navigated the pages of the physics textbook in front of you.

“should we take a break?” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

you blinked, realizing that you had been staring at the same problem for a little too long. “i’m sorry. long day.”

“no, don’t apologize,” soobin reassured you. “it��s getting late anyways. we can always try again tomorrow.”

the next few tutoring sessions followed a similar pattern, but today you managed to gather yourself and focus, determined not to get lost in the small smile that graced soobin’s face whenever you correctly answered a question.

“you know what you’re doing?”

“what?”

“you know what you’re doing. just don’t overthink it.” he was referring to the problem set in front of you.

“oh, yeah,” you replied, your hand moving swiftly across the paper. in your mind, even if you got the question wrong, he would patiently explain it to you. this way, you wouldn’t be trapped in your head, thinking about how close he was to you, close enough to pick up hints of his shampoo, or how pretty his eyes looked with the kitchen lights dancing in them, or how soft his hands felt as they brushed against yours when he took the paper from you.

to your surprise, you managed to avoid any embarrassment for the rest of the session.

“when’s your next test?”

“in two weeks, i think,”

“we can meet a couple of nights a week until then,” he suggested.

as time passed, you found it easier to concentrate, the initial nervousness giving away to a growing confidence. you had to admit. soobin was a good tutor and with each passing day, you felt the weight of the test lessen, until the day of the test.

from soob: test day! how are you feeling?

to soob: i think i’m going to throw up

from soob: please don’t you’re going to do great you know i’m always rooting for you!!

you walked into the classroom with your chin held high, determined to “fake it till you make it” your way into a passing grade, but you spent the rest of the week after that a bundle of restlessness and anticipation.

finally, the day you dreaded the most arrived. the door swung open, and your teacher strode in, a stack of papers clutched in his hand. you held your breath, fingers crossed under the desk as he made his way down the rows, inching closer and closer.

“good job,” he smiled at you when he handed you your test.

after class, you practically sprinted to soobin’s locker, eager to share the news.

“check me out! i’m a nerd like you,” you exclaimed, thrusting the test paper towards him.

“har har,” he let out an amused snort, rolling his eyes. “i knew you could do it. maybe next time we can shoot for a 100?”

“i think we should focus on maintaining this 80%,” you chuckled. “i think this calls for a celebration. can you come over tonight?”

that evening, you and soobin set out to tackle the challenge of baking brownies. he was good at a lot of things but admittedly was very useless in the kitchen.

“it’s fine.” you reassured him, “i can teach you.”

“you’re always teaching me things,” he noted, his ears burning as he looked down at the mixing bowl.

“what are you talking about? i’m literally now passing physics because of you.

“not school things,” he explains. “i mean like practical life things. you taught me how to ride a bike; you taught me how to make friends––”

“i taught you how to make friends?”

“yes, you did. being friends with you just made me outgoing, i guess.”

“hmm.”

“anyways, you’re teaching me how to bake, although i think this might be a lost cause,” he quipped, eyeing the ingredients skeptically.

“just crack those eggs,” you instructed.

while you dealt with other things, soobin stood expertly mixing the batter. “can i taste it?” you asked, holding up a spoon.

“wait, this is so good,” you marveled at your own recipe.

soobin’s gaze met yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. he edged closer to you. “you have something…” he said softly, swiping your chin with his thumb, then tasting the chocolate batter from his finger.

“oh, uh, th-thanks,” you stammered, turning toward the sink to hide the elated grin that threatened to give you away. inside, you were almost bursting at the seams.

“so, cookies are for nerves, brownies are for celebration?” soobin asked, as you two settled onto the plush couch.

“and cakes are for when i’m sad,” you quipped, fingers deftly flicking the remote to life. “what do you want to watch?”

“i don’t care. whatever you want.”

wrapped in the cocoon of the soft blanket, you both sank into the cushions, the movie’s glow flickering across your faces.

as the credits rolled on the screen, you and soobin sat up, still close, but the proximity was charged with an unspoken confession.

“did you like the movie?” you asked, attempting to dispel the atmosphere.

“we’ve seen it like a million times,”

“yeah, but still.” you press and he just shrugs.

after a pregnant pause, he finally broke the stillness. “i feel like i need to tell you something.”

your heart quickened, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within. “yeah?”

“i, uh,” his voice wavered for a moment. “i like you,” he admitted, his words stumbling out in a rush, eyes fixed on a point somewhere in the middle distance.

“what?”

“i like you,” he repeated, softer and steadier this time. soobin’s heart raced, his pulse thrumming in his ears as he awaited your response. you, on the other hand, were filled with surprise and something else, you couldn’t even decipher. your breath caught. it was like the air had grown heavier, charged with unspoken desires and uncharted territory.

“oh.” you managed to let out. “that’s… oh.”

his gaze flickered back to his hands, usually so steady, that laid, slightly trembling in his lap. “it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. i’ve just been dealing with these feelings for a while and i just needed to tell you.”

“soobin, it’s—”

“you don’t have to say anything; i get it.” he interjected, “just forget about this. i value our friendship a lot more, so i don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“soobin!” you exclaimed your voice firm and determined. “i like you too, but we… we can’t do this.”

“why not?”

“well, for starters, you’re graduating in the spring.”

“and i’m probably going to school, like what? two hours away?”

“i don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on your college experience by being with me or whatever.”

“y/n, you’re literally my best friend.”

“precisely why we shouldn’t risk it,” you insisted. “i cherish our friendship, and i don't want to jeopardize it.”

“i promise you there’s absolutely nothing that could ever make us not be friends.”

“i don’t… i don’t know.”

“sleep on it, okay?” he conceded, rising from the couch. “i should probably go home.”

you escorted him to the door, the gravity of the moment still lingering. “see you tomorrow?” he asked, framed in the doorway. the threshold seemed both a physical and emotional boundary, like a bridge between the familiar present and the uncertain future of your relationship.

“yeah.”

he leaned forward, a gentle breath of warmth preceding the tender press of his lips against your cheek. “goodnight, y/n,” he murmured before fading into the night.

your fingers lightly brushed your cheek, still tingling from where his lips had been. the sensation was still tingling, like a spark of electricity had been left behind. climbing the stairs you couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. you felt like you were floating as you made your way to your room, crashing on your bed, kicking your feet thinking about the fact that he likes you.

the next day, you decided to skip lunch in the cafeteria. “please can you tell me why we’re eating lunch in the library today?” yuna asks, tossing her backpack onto a beanbag in the corner of the library where you settled.

“something happened last night.”

“did you and soobin finally kiss?” she asked, a sly grin creeping onto her face. you look up at her, trying to suppress your smile.

“well, not really.”

“not really? what happened?”

“he told me he liked me.”

yuna let out an excited squeal, earning disapproving glances from the other students.

“and he kissed my cheek.”

“shut up!” she was practically bouncing in her seat, unable to maintain her excitement.

“yeah, you should shut up.” some guy at a nearby table griped, annoyed by the disruption.

she rolled her eyes, returning her attention to you. “anyways, i’m so happy for you.”

“don’t get your hopes up.”

“oh, no.”

“yuna, he’s graduating soon.”

“okay? i don’t see what the problem is. you’ve had a crush on him forever and he was the one who said it first.”

“i just don’t want to do a long distance thing.”

“he lives right beside you.”

“and he’s moving away in seven months.”

“he’s moving to a different town, not a different country.”

“hey, you guys are making a lot of noise,” the library assistant reprimanded, approaching your table. “and you know you’re not allowed to eat in here.” she referred to yuna’s food.

“sorry,” you apologized, your voice meek.

she walked away, leaving you both to your conversation.

“yeah, ‘cause my carrots are going to crumb all over the books,” yuna quipped, but she complied, tucking away her lunch.

“i just don’t want to lose my best friend.”

with a multitude of thoughts swirling around your head, you knew you needed to talk to soobin. after school, you made your way to his house. as you walked to his bedroom, each step was weighed down by the uncertainty and anticipation that filled your heart.

the soft knock on soobin’s door pulled him from his thoughts. he swung the door open to find you standing there.

“hey,” you greeted, your voice above a whisper.

“hey,” he stepped back, allowing you in. his heart raced, a mix of hope and fear coursing through him.

you walked into his room taking in the decor. it hadn’t changed much from middle school. his walls were adorned with a mix of posters. a bookshelf stood against one of the walls, filled with a well-organized collection of novels, textbooks, and mementos. his desk, which sat by the window, was decorated with photos of the two of you from elementary school that you surprisingly hadn’t seen before. looking at them gave you the motivation to have the say everything that you wanted to say.

he gestured to his bed. you settled into your usual spots, the silence stretching, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the clock. soobin couldn’t help but steal glances at you, the room charged with tension.

“so, we should talk about last night.” you took a deep breath. he turned to face you, his gaze steady, waiting for your words. “i’ve been thinking a lot,” you continued. “and i do want to give this, us, a try.”

a smile broke across his face and you couldn’t help but melt. “you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

you mirrored his smile, a sense of contentment settling in your chest. “but,” you added, your expression turning more serious, “you are graduating soon, so we need to be realistic.”

he nodded. “we can face it together, one step at a time.”

you reach out, your fingers finding his. “okay,”

“can i kiss you now?”

“yes,” you giggled.

he cupped your face, slowly closing the space between you. meanwhile, your hands snaked their way to the back of his neck, pulling him down so his soft lips met yours. the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against yours.

the first touch was as light as a feather, but as a surge of emotion overcame the initial hesitation, the kiss deepened. time seemed to stand still and the moment stretched into infinity until you heard a cough coming from the door.

you quickly pull away from the kiss, your heart racing. soobin’s eyes held affection, his fingers still lightly grazing your cheek. you looked to the door to see his mom with her hands on her hips, a playful smirk on her face. “i was just checking to see if you were going to stay for dinner, y/n.” she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

looking down at your hands, that sat in soobin’s hands, you responded quietly. “yeah, i’ll just text my parents.”

“okay,” she left the room with a knowing smile

“that was so,” you squealed in embarrassment, burying your face in soobin’s shoulder. his warmth enveloped you like a comforting embrace as his fingers gently traced patterns on your back.

“at least she likes you,” he joked, making you groan. “we should go downstairs,” he suggests, pulling away reluctantly.

as you proceed to stand up, he playfully tugged you back down, his eyes never leaving yours. “wait.” his voice held a soft urgency, his gaze locked onto your lips. “just one more.” he leaned in, the touch of his lips against yours sending a surge of warmth through your veins. his smile melted into the kiss.

“okay, we can go now.”

you followed him downstairs and avoided his mom’s knowing glances throughout dinner.

for the next few months, you spent almost every day with soobin. the two of you were once again attached at the hip, savoring every moment leading up to his impending graduation.

and the dreaded day of the ceremony arrived. soobin, loose tie in hand, entered his parents’ room with a furrowed brow. “mom, where’s dad?”

“he had to stop by the office, but he’ll meet us there,” she responded, finishing up her makeup. as she finished she turned to her son, her eyes sparkling. “oh my god,” she cooed. “you look so handsome.” she pulled him into a hug.

“god, mom, relax.” soobin chuckled, gently extricating himself from her affectionate grip. he smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt.

“is it a crime for a mother to be proud of her son for graduating?”

“no, but i need help with the tie.” he gave it to her.

she took the tie, fingers deftly weaving it into place around her neck. “is y/n coming with us?”

“no, she’s going with her parents.”

“you know, i’m really glad you have her in your life.” there was a tenderness in her voice, her eyes fixed on her son as she put the tie around his neck, adjusting his collar.

“that’s random.”

“it’s not random. i’m just saying you’re graduating and going to college soon, and i just don’t want you to take her for granted.”

“i won’t. i promise.”

“ok,” she declared, a smile gracing her lips, indicating that she had finished. “good to go, we’re leaving in ten minutes so go finish getting ready.”

you arrive at your school’s auditorium thirty minutes before the ceremony began. you quickly settle beside soobin’s mother.

“i’m so glad you guys could make it,” she greeted warmly.

you scanned the hall, searching for your boyfriend in the sea of cap and gowns. the familiar hum of your phone in your lap brought your attention back to the present. it was a text from soobin, asking you to meet him outside the auditorium.

“is my dad there?” soobin’s voice held a note of urgency when he saw you.

“not yet, but your mom said he’s on his way. are you okay?” your hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder, trying to steady his nerves.

“i’m just nervous about the speech and the fact that he isn’t here yet.”

“well, he’s going to be here. who would miss their only child’s graduation?” you offered a reassuring smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “and the speech is going to go perfectly, okay?”

“you don’t know that.”

“yes, i do! you’ve been practicing all week. you’re going to do great.”

“what if i mess up?”

“if you mess up, just find me in the crowd, okay? i’ll be with both your parents and my parents, and we’ll all be cheering on you.”

“alright, thank you.” he took a deep, steadying breath.

you reached up, planting a tender kiss on his lips. “you’re going to do great,” you affirmed, and with that, he headed through the student entrance into the auditorium.

the ceremony flowed seamlessly. pride swelled in you as you watched soobin take the stage. his dad slid into your row just as he went on stage, and you offered him a thumbs-up, met in kind.

you returned to soobin’s house with your parents for the celebration. the living room was adorned with congratulatory banners and balloons, the most bright and colorful you’d ever seen his house.

for most of the party, you didn’t see much of him as he was passed around by friends and relatives that wanted to congratulate him. but eventually, at some point in the night he finds you and the two of you escape from the party to embrace the quiet of his room. the room was dimly lit, and mostly quiet, save for the chatter and the music softly playing from outside the door.

“god, i really needed this,” he confessed, stretching out on his bed. you nestled beside him, resting your head on his chest. he enveloped you in arms, fingers entwined with yours. “talking to people is exhausting,” he sighed.

“you were amazing today,” you reassured him.

“because i had you there with me.”

“and your dad came.”

“yeah, half an hour late. i can’t believe he went to work today.”

“at least he was there.”

“i don’t even care anymore. i’m just happy you were there and that we’re here together right now. i can’t wait for this summer.”

“i need to tell you something.”

“yeah,” he turned to you, fingers gently playing with yours.

“you know how i’m vice president of culinary club?” he hummed in acknowledgement.

“well, our faculty advisor told me about this culinary school that she thinks i should apply to for college.” you explained. “anyways she thinks i need to get a job or internship or something this summer to make my application stronger.”

“yeah,” his voice took on a more tentative tone.

“well, she connected me with one of her friends who owns a restaurant downtown and he said that i could, like, shadow him for the summer.”

“that’s great but–”

“i know. i don’t think it’s going to stop us from spending time together. we’ll still be able to do everything that we planned on doing. it’s just not going to be everyday.”

“baby, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“i just feel bad.” your voice softened.

“why?”

“we had so many plans.” you pouted

“and we’ll still be able to do them,” he assured you. “i think it might be good practice for us when i go to school in the fall.”

“yeah, you’re right.”

you leaned up to kiss him, and he kissed you back.

the two of you lingered on his bed, the world beyond the room fading into insignificance. then, a gentle rap on the door pulled you out of your trivial conversations.

“soobin,” his dad entered the room, voice cutting through the hush. “some of your guests are leaving. go downstairs to say goodbye.”

soobin shot up from the bed. “yeah, i’ll head down now.”

“y/n can i talk to you?” his dad asked. soobin looked back at you before leaving the room.

“yeah, what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong. i just wanted to talk to you about soobin.”

“what about soobin?”

“why don’t you sit down,” he suggested. you complied, perching on your boyfriend's bed. “i wanted to talk about soobin because well he’s going to college in the fall and i just want to make sure that he’s not wasting his experience or losing his focus.”

you weren’t sure how to respond. “i’m don’t know–”

“see y/n, you’re a great girl and you’ve been there for soobin for a long time, but you also distract him.”

“what?”

“i work really hard to make sure that my family can live in this neighborhood and so that my only son can go to a good school. i don’t want to see him waste his life over his high school girlfriend.”

your chest tightened, emotions surging. you wanted to speak up, to yell at him and tell him off for inserting himself into your relationship. you wanted to yell at him for even saying this to you when he couldn’t be bothered to show up for his only son’s high school graduation. you wanted to defend your love and your commitment to soobin. but as the tears welled up in your eyes, the words caught in your throat. all you could manage was a quiet, “okay.”

“i’m glad you understand. i know we both care about him and we both want the best for him.”

he exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your tears. the last words he spoke echoed in your mind. we both want what’s best for him.

you gathered enough composure and strength, wiping away your tears, and made your way downstairs. you attempted to slip away quietly, but soobin caught you at the door.

“you’re leaving?” the dim light from the porch illuminated his face, casting soft shadows across his features.

“yeah, it’s getting late.”

“are you okay?” he noticed the tremor in your voice.

“yeah, i’m just super tired.”

“oh, okay? what did my dad want to talk to you about?”

“oh, he just asked me to send him the videos and photos i took of you earlier.” the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you pushed it out regardless, hoping to shield soobin from the weight of his father’s words.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, taking hold of your hands. “do you want me to walk you home?”

“no, yeah, i’m fine.” you pull him into a hug for what felt like an eternity. if he noticed anything wrong with you after that, he didn’t bring it up. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

that night, you couldn’t fall asleep. the room seemed to close in around you suffocating in its emptiness. the echoes of the conversation with soobin’s father reverberated in your mind, haunting you.

you grappled with the weight of your fears and insecurities. what if he was right? what if you were holding soobin back? distracting him? the thought had always lingered at the back of your mind since you began dating. and now that he was actually starting at college, that unspoken fear threatened to consume you.

maybe his dad was right. you needed to give him the space that he needed to grow. and it’s not like you had to break up with him. you just needed to keep him at an arm’s length and this summer was a chance for you to learn how to do that with you working. so in the weeks that followed, you found yourself pulling away and creating that distance. the space between you stretched as you took more shifts at work and spent less time with your boyfriend.

“i might move into school a week early,” soobin told you one day when you were hanging out in your room.

you felt your heart sink.

you hadn’t spent that much time together and now you had even less time together. it felt like a cruel twist of fate. still, you masked your disappointment with forced encouragement. “that’s good.” you muttered. “get to know the area better.”

“you think i should go?”

“i mean, if you want to. it seems like a good idea.”

“okay,”

as the day arrived for soobin to leave for school, you felt a void open up within you. the weight of missed moments and unspoken words crushed your soul, suffocating in their intensity. you called out of work but stayed in bed all day, cocooned in the covers, crying about the fact that you couldn’t allow yourself to savor the little time you had with soobin.

when soobin facetimed you later that evening, your heart both leapt and sank at the sight of his face. “hey, let me see your face.”

“i look horrible,” you groaned, but still revealed your face that was covered by your blankets and pillows.

soobin’s brows furrowed when he saw your face with your eyes red and your nose puffy. “have you been crying?”

“no, i’m just sick.” you tried to hide it, to mask the pain, but the cracks in your facade were all too evident.

“please, y/n, don’t lie to me.”

the raw vulnerability in his voice cracked something open within you. “i just miss you and i wish I could have helped you move in.”

“maybe i can come home on the weekend after classes start?” you wanted to revel in the possibility of seeing him again so soon, however the question lingered heavy in the air.

“do you think i’m holding you back from getting the full college experience?”

“where did that come from?”

“what if there’s like… i don’t know, a really cool frat party that weekend? would you miss out on that for me?”

“i think i’d rather see my girlfriend than go to some hypothetical frat party.”

“i’m being serious.”

“do you not want me to come home?” his question hung in the air, like a delicate thread of vulnerability. the room seemed to pulse with unspoken tension. your fingers tightened around the edges of your blanket, grasping for comfort and grounding, as you thought over your answer. every second of the silence felt like a weight on your shoulders.

you sighed. “i do, but–”

“then what’s the problem, y/n?” soobin’s voice, slightly raised, tinged with frustration, cut through the hush. “it seems like ever since the summer started you’ve been pushing me away, and i don’t know if i did something wrong.”

“you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“so what’s up?”

“i just don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time focusing on your high school girlfriend when you have so much life ahead of you.”

“you’re not just my high school girlfriend.” his voice softened.

“that’s not what i meant.”

“you’re also my best friend. and i don’t ever feel like i’m wasting my time by being with you.”

you contemplate telling him what his dad said, but you ultimately decide against it.

“what are you thinking?” he asked after you didn't respond for a while.

“i don’t know.” you confessed, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“i need you to be honest with me because i don’t know what you need or how much more i can reassure you that you’re it for me.”

“maybe we should take a break?” the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“what?” soobin’s eyes widened, disbelief and hurt dancing in their depths.

“just maybe for the semester.” you rushed to explain, “so you can get your footing in school and i can focus on college apps.”

“so, you want to break up?”

“not like a real breakup. we’ll still talk and everything, just with some space.” he looked away, his jaw clenched, like he was processing the idea.

“i can’t believe you’re suggesting this.” his voice cracks as he blinks back the tears welling up in his eyes.

“maybe it’s what we need right now. we’ll still talk.” you promised, mostly trying to convince yourself.

the call ended and the weight of your decision settled on your chest, like a heavy ache that echoed the emptiness you felt inside. in your head, you were making the right choice for both of you, but that didn’t make it any easier. and as hard as you tried to maintain your relationship with soobin, over the next few months, the calls and messages became less frequent. the space between you was growing wider and each interaction held a bittersweet tinge, a mix of familiarity and the painful reminder of what once was.

the next break from school came quicker than you had expected. you sat at your desk, catching up on homework as the late morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. the creak of your bedroom door announced your dad’s presence.

“how are you doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

a faint smile danced on your lips as you turned to face him. “i’m not going to kill myself dad,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. “i’m just doing homework.”

“you’ve been in your room all break. i think i’m allowed to be worried.”

you bristled, the walls rising around you like a fortress. “well you shouldn’t be, okay? i’m fine.”

“okay so you don’t care to know that i saw soobin’s car pull up into the driveway?” he asked. you let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, your gaze shifted to the patch of sunlight dancing on the floor.

“are you going to see him?” he gently suggested.

“i don’t know if he wants to see me,” you admitted, your voice a hesitant whisper. the weight of uncertainty settled around you, and your dad’s brow furrowed in empathy. he approached you to comfort you. “i think i messed up,” you confessed, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

he paused to study your face, and then he spoke, his tone filled with reassurance. “i’m sure whatever you did isn’t that bad. who could ever not want to see you?”

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, grateful for his attempt to ease your worries. “you’re just saying that because you’re my dad.”

he reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you know that’s not true. and you know he wants to see you because he cares for you, and he knows you care for him too.”

“and what if that’s not enough?”

his gaze softened, “then you shouldn’t base your worth on what some guys thinks of you.”

“some guy? i thought you liked soobin.”

“yeah, but i like you more.” he pulled you into a warm embrace, the strength of his love wrapping around you like a shield. as he left the room, a sense of comfort lingered in the air. you sat there, the moment stretching, the decision before you felt like a bridge to cross, but you chose to not let fear dictate your actions.

with a determined exhale, you reached for your phone.

to soob: hey, i saw you just got home. whenever you get a chance, can you come over? i think we need to talk.

later that night, in the quiet stillness of your room, you receive a knock on your door. your heart quickened. you leaped out of bed, ready to face whatever awaited for you on the other side of the door.

“hey,” you breathed, the door swinging open to reveal soobin.

“hi,”

“please come in,” you invited him in. you held the door open, allowing him to step into your sanctuary. “how have you been?”

“good,” he replied, though there was a subtle hesitance in his tone.

“really?”

he left out a soft chuckle, a nervous habit that betrayed the calm facade he tried to maintain. “well, no, but i thought it was the appropriate thing to say.” his hand moved to rub the back of his neck. “how are you?”

“been better,” you confessed.

he settled onto the edge of your bed, and you joined him.

“so you wanted to talk?”

“i’m sorry,” the words tumbled from your lips.

“for?”

“everything?” the raw honesty of the moment threatened to engulf you. “asking for a break, not talking to you. i messed everything up.”

“you didn’t mess anything up,” he countered.

“but look at where we are,” you murmured, your gaze falling to the floor, unable to bear the weight of the truth in his eyes.

“and where is that?”

“here.” you took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “i just want us to be good like before,” you said after a long pause.

soobin’s expression softened, “me too. i’ve missed you.”

“like crying and throwing up every night?” you teased.

“eh, something like that,” a hint of a smile played on his lips, the lamplight catching the warmth in his eyes.

“good to know,” you replied, a smile tugging at your own lips.

“i’ve said this before, but you’re really it for me.”

“is that so?”

“yeah, even though your dad was giving me a stank as i was coming upstairs.”

“he was?”

“yeah, and i thought your parents loved me.”

“they do!”

“that doesn’t sound convincing,” he joked, a genuine laugh filling the room, echoing off the walls.

“they do, they do.” you try to convince him. “they’re just really protective.”

“well, how can i get in their good graces again?”

“maybe by kissing me.” you suggest, teasingly.

“you think kissing their daughter is going to make them not hate me?”

“yeah, i think it might be a start.” you replied, your voice soft, but sure.

“okay.”

he cups your face, pulling you into a tender kiss. as your lips met his, a surge of warmth spread through you, grounding you in the present moment. your hands found their rightful place on the back of his neck, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair. in that fleeting, stolen breath of moment, the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving just the two of you suspended in this fragile, but powerful connection.

when you finally pulled away, the room took a breath with you. in that moment, everything felt right again. you were back to your version of normal, and it was perfect.

soobin sat cross legend on your bed waiting for you to bring up some snacks. it was the first weekend of your spring break and he decided to come down to surprise you. while waiting for you, his gaze fell upon a large envelope on your bedside table, its seal embossed with the emblem of the culinary school that you had told him about.

“okay, this is a new recipe that i’ve been working on.” you announce, walking into the room with a plate of cookies in your hand. “i want you to be honest with me. that being said, if you hate it, i’m going to cry.”

“why didn’t you tell me that you got in?” he asked as he inspected the envelope.

“because i’m not going.” you set the plate on your bed.

“why not?” concern was etched into the lines of his face.

“for starters,” your gaze drifted to the windows. “i got more money from other schools. besides, it’s on the other side of the country.”

“so?”

“so, that’s too far.”

“but you knew where it was when you applied,” he pressed. “and it’s your dream school.”

“that doesn’t matter, soobin.”

“well, why not?”

“because, you’re here.” you admitted.

“so, you’re staying for me?”

“you don’t want me to?”

“no,”

“oh,”

“y/n,” he leaned forward, reaching out to touch your hand. “i don’t want you to give up on your dreams because of me.” his thumb was tracing patterns on your hand. “why is it so easy for you to understand when it comes to me but not when it comes to you?”

“i’m not giving up on my dreams,” you argued, your eyes meeting the boy on your bed with determination. “i just want to be with you right now.”

his fingers tightened around yours, trying to grasp the gravity of your decision. “we can still be together.”

“with 2000 miles between us?” you questioned. “we could barely handle a hundred. we’re finally good again. i don’t want to go to school across the country and have that change.”

“nothing’s going to change.”

“you don’t know that.”

“you’re right, i don’t know that.” he began, “but i do know that we literally broke up six months ago, and now i’m sitting on your bed again.”

“it wasn’t a break up; it was a break,” you interjected, a small smile playing on your lips.

“okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “but my point still stands. we’ve been through a lot and we always end up right beside each other.”

you get your laptop from your desk and log into the admissions portal. “are you going to accept it now?”

“no time like the present.”

five months later, you found yourself getting in a taxi to your dorm with your parents by your side. they insisted on driving you there, but you managed to convince them that a cross country road trip would cause more harm than good to your familial relationship.

as you settled into the backseat of the cab, the familiar scent of your mother’s perfume enveloped you. the engine hummed softly beneath you, and the rhythmic sound of tires on pavement created a comforting backdrop.

your mother’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and a touch of sadness. she reached over and gently squeezed your hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “are you excited, honey?” she asked.

your father, who sat in the front seat, spent the entire ride bombarding you with questions about pepper spray.

you managed to drown out your parents, looking out the window, watching the cityscape evolve as you approached your dorm. the towering skyscrapers seemed to reach for the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling streets. you felt a knot of nervous energy settle in your stomach.

at your dorm, your parents helped you carry your bags up to your room. the air tingled with the scent of freshly painted walls and the promise of new beginnings. your room was a blank canvas, waiting for you to imprint it with your personality.

as you unpacked, your mother offered suggestions for organizing your belongings, and your father, more practically, made a list of all the necessities you needed to get like extra blankets and a first aid kit.

yuna, whose school went back in session a few days earlier, texted you inviting you to hang out with her and her roommate. you walked your parents back to their hotel, eating takeout from a nearby chinese restaurant in their room.

as the meal came to an end, there was a bittersweet air, as you gathered your things and left their room. you met yuna in a park downtown, sitting with her roommate. you ran towards her, the anticipation and joy bubbling over. she enveloped you in a tight hug. “i’m so glad you’re finally here.”

as you walked through the park, the conversation flowed effortlessly. you felt a sense of peace settle over you. it was like the first taste of the home you were building for yourself in this new, unfamiliar place.

you arrived back at your dorm alone. your room greeted you with a sense of familiarity. your side was a collage of memories and personal touches – framed photos, trinkets from home, and the soft glow of fairy lights casting a warm, golden hue.

you sat on your bed, looking out the window, the skyscrapers now standing in line with you. the city’s pulsed thrummed faintly in the distance. gone were the nerves that accompanied you earlier. in their place, a newfound sense of determination settled within you. you knew you had to do what you needed to make this place your own. it was the beginning of a new chapter, and you were ready to embrace it with open arms.

and luckily for you, this new chapter did not come at the detriment of your relationship at first. for the first two months of the semester, you and soobin were still talking everyday and about everything – your classes, the new recipes you were working on, how one of your professors worked at one of the most famous restaurants in the world, and about your friends, how much yuna’s presence helped you settle in, how your roommate neither leaves the room nor says a word to you.

for the first time in this relationship, you could almost say that everything was fine.

but as time went on, you felt yourselves shifting into your old patterns of not talking to each other. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that soobin had lied. it seemed like everything was changing. or maybe he was right. maybe this was how it always was. there were never enough hours in the day for you guys to be together and you were coming to find that had always been a pattern throughout your relationship. it was just like eighth grade, or the summer before he left for college, or his first semester of college. the story was almost exactly the same – first it was missing texts because of conflicting class times and time zones. but then hours became days which became weeks and before you knew it, winter break was knocking on your door.

this was the first time you would see soobin in four months and the only thing that you wanted to do was melt into his arms. the familiar sights of your childhood neighborhood rushed past as your dad drove you home from the airport. every turn brought you closer to that one house on the street, the house that held so many memories, and now, the promise of reconnection.

as the car pulled into your driveway, you couldn’t contain your excitement. leaping out, you dashed inside your house, tossing your bags onto your bedroom floor with reckless abandon.

his mother greeted you at the door. “y/n, honey, you’re back!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

growing up, you never spent much time outside of soobin’s bedroom in his home. his father’s relentless work schedule and his mother’s hesitancy to host guests left the rest of the house shrouded in a quiet unfamiliarity. as you walked through the hallways, you thought about how cold and gray the house looked the summer they moved in. it wasn’t much different now.

a deep breath steadied you as you approached soobin’s closed door.

some things didn’t change. the butterflies that swarmed around in your stomach were a constant companion that signaled you were exactly where you needed to be. but then you thought about how lonely you were without him this semester and you decided that maybe everything changing was for the best.

“y/n, you’re home?” his face betrayed him showing confusion. he never had the best poker face.

“yeah,” you affirmed softly, pushing open the door. there, before you, sat a girl at his desk.

or not.

“uh, this is my friend from school, arin. she couldn’t get a flight home for winter break, so she’s staying here.” soobin explained.

“oh,” you responded with a mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

arin extended her hand to you. “hi, it’s so nice to meet you. you must be soobin’s neighbor.”

“and his girlfriend,” you added, declaring your place in the room.

awkward tension hung in the air, a palpable shift in dynamics. as the evening unfolded, you settled into a corner of the room, watching the two converse. your gaze shifted between them, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. you marveled at the ease with which they fell into conversation, recounting stories, laughing. a truly unsettling sight. a pang of envy tugged at your heart.

as the night wore on, their voices became a distant hum to you. you felt like a silent observer, a piece of scenery, fading into the background. you did not plan on watching your boyfriend giggle at someone else’s stories for three hours. you longed for his attention, but that seemed like an impossible request.

soobin, engrossed in his conversation, was too oblivious to your discomfort. it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but rather he was just caught up.

you watched them with a mixture of longing and resignation, trying to convince yourself that this was just a temporary moment of disconnect and that soobin would turn his attention back to you soon. but with each passing minute, that hope waned.

gathering resolve, you got up. “i think i’m going to head home.” you announced.

soobin and arin turned their attention to you, momentarily pulling away from their conversation.

“are you sure?” soobin asked you.

you nodded. “yeah, it’s been a long day. i’ll see you later, soobin. it was nice to meet you, arin.” you turned back to your boyfriend, waiting for his response.

“i’ll walk you home,” he offered.

leaving the room, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at arin, who was now engrossed in something on her phone. the ache in your chest grew.

the two of you stood in front of your house, the chill of the evening air settling around you. the soft glow from the porch light illuminated the path that led to your front door.

“so, she’s staying the entirety of winter break?” you asked.

“yup,” soobin replied, his words punctuated by a casual pop of the ‘p’. “is there something wrong?”

you hesitated for a moment. “no,” you finally shook your head, a small, rueful smile gracing your lips. “i just wanted to spend time with you alone.”

“we can still spend time together,” he assured. “i feel like you two would get along. she’s a lot like you.”

the reassurance didn’t offer the comfort you sought. instead, it settled uneasily in your stomach. you offered a distracted response, your gaze drifting from the quiet street to your front door.

“yeah, maybe.”

“are you okay?” soobin asked, pulling you back to the present moment.

you forced a smile, masking the swirl of conflicting emotions beneath the surface. “yeah, just tired.”

“okay, goodnight, i’ll see you tomorrow.” he said, leaning down to kiss you. the touch of his lips felt foreign, like a puzzle piece that no longer fit quite right. it was an odd sensation, leaving you with a lingering sense of disconnection. like you were slipping away from each other. you didn’t want to think too much about it, but deep down you knew that no matter how tightly you tried to hold on, it would be no use.

“goodnight,” you whispered, stepping back and slipping into the warmth of your house.

the days that followed were a dance of awkwardness and unspoken tension. you yearned for soobin’s attention, for the familiar touch of his hand, but it just seemed so out of reach.

one chilly afternoon, you all gathered at a small diner on the corner of town. the warm scent of comfort food wrapped around you as you settled into the vinyl booth opposite arin. your boyfriend trailed behind you, hesitating for a moment before sliding into the booth beside you, a subtle shift that did not go unnoticed. it was a tiny pang, but it was there.

you smiled and tried to shake off the unease, focusing on the menu in front of you. as you chatted about school and plans for the break, you couldn’t help but notice soobin’s gaze flickering between the two of you. it was as if he was trying to find balance in a delicate equation.

another time, the three of you planned to visit the ice skating rink. when you arrived at soobin’s house, you were met with the unfamiliar sight of arin in the front seat of the car. you hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to sit. the glance you exchanged with arin held a silent question, but before you could say anything, soobin assured you it wasn’t a big deal.

as the car pulled away, the hum of their conversation and the pulse of the music filled the space, leaving you feeling like a distant observer.

you invited soobin over for a movie night, so imagine your surprise when you opened your front door to see both of them. you smiled dropped as you welcomed them into your house. this was supposed to bring back a flicker of normalcy. you were supposed to nestle into your boyfriend’s side. but even as the movie played, there was a subtle shift in the air. every moment spent with arin was a reminder of the growing distance, like a river slowly widening between you and the person you held closest.

then came that one precious weekend, a rare convergence of circumstances. both of you found your parents out of town at the same time. you invited soobin over and unfortunately, arin was working on a project for school so she couldn’t join. you had to stifle a surge of joy that threatened to bubble over.

“i’m so happy that we’re finally spending time together,” you exclaimed, gently closing your bedroom door behind you. soobin sat on your bed, with your computer resting on his lap. “alone.” you emphasized, a smile playing on your lips.

with purposeful steps, you crossed the room. you carefully lifted the laptop from his lap, placing it on your bedside table. then, with a graceful movement, you straddled his lap, feeling the warmth and familiarity of his presence beneath you.

“i really missed you,” you murmured, your breath mingling with his. leaning in, you captured his lips in a tender kiss.

the room pulsed with newfound energy as the kiss deepened. soobin’s touch was gentle as his hands found their place on the small of your back, holding you close, grounding you in the moment.

as passion ignited between you, a fire that had been smoldering for far too long, you hands moved with purpose, fingers deftly working to remove the barrier that separated you from him.

but then, he pulled away, his breaths coming in measured, uneven intervals. “w-what are you doing?”

“i’m ready,” you replied, your own voice barely above a whisper. the air crackled with tension, every beat of your heart echoing in the silence that followed.

he sat up straighter, his gaze locked with yours. “are you sure?”

“yes, soobin, i’m sure,” you asserted, mustering more confidence. “i want this.”

he took a moment, his breath steadying, before he spoke. “alright,” he said softly.

he gently guided you back onto the bed. “it might be more comfortable if i’m on top,” he suggested. he removed his shirt, casually tossing it to a corner of your room. “please tell me if you want me to stop.”

you nodded in understanding.

“i’m serious, y/n. i need you to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

“okay, i will.”

your heart raced as you laid there, your senses heightened. nervous energy tingled through your veins as his hands caressed your sides. his fingers traced the curves of your hips and thighs slowly. every inch of your body lit with flames as he touched you ever so lightly.

slowly, you mirrored his movements, your hands reached for the hem of your t-shirt. with a deep breath, you took off the old t-shirt to match him, laying eagerly in your pretty pink bra.

he stopped to look at you. “wow.” he breathed out. a rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, and you instinctively buried your face in your hands. he pulled your hands down. “don’t hide your face from me, baby.” he murmured with tender eyes. “you’re just so pretty.”

you pulled him down to kiss him. “i need you,” you moaned into the kiss.

soobin’s mouth never left your body as he fumbled with his pants. he licked and sucked on your neck, taking his time with his gray sweatpants. soft moans and sighs kept slipping from your lips as he marked your skin.

“wait,” he stopped. “do you have a condom?”

“top drawer,” you breathed out.

soobin reached into the drawer by the bed, his fingers deftly finding the box nestled amidst an array of trinkets.

“open up for me.” you did as he said, and spread your legs a little wider. he could tell you were nervous as he pulled down your shorts. “do you trust me?” he asked, to which you nodded. “it might hurt for a second, but i promise you, it will only be a tiny amount of pain.” you wrapped your legs around his waist and he slowly rocked his hips against you.

you felt him position his hips so that they were perfectly in line with yours, his tip edging your entrance. he began to work his way into you inch by inch, before steadily pushing in until you were filled with his entire length. he threw his head back in pleasure as he bottomed out in you. your hands still on the back of his neck, you nudged him closer to you. “i know it hurts, baby. i’m sorry. just tell me what you need.”

the pain and discomfort was quickly replaced with pleasure. you gasped quietly, and soobin took it as a sign to finally begin moving. he fell into a rhythm of deep slow thrusts just sent you spiraling. he leaned his face down to your neck for a moment, pressing kisses along your flesh and nipping at your shoulder.

“f-fuck, you feel so good.”

he raised his face again, your noses inches apart. your face was contorted in pleasure and he couldn’t help but groan, thrusting into your harder.

“soobin?” you moaned out.

“yeah, baby? i’m right here.”

“i love you.”

he leaned back down to kiss you, his lips trailing down your jawline to your neck.

every kiss, every thrust progressively getting faster was sending you over the edge, making you pant and moan underneath him. the sounds coming from you were making his head spin and he could feel himself getting closer to his orgasm.

he was hitting you in the right spot, causing a knot to form in your lower stomach as you approached your breaking point. the knot in your stomach tightened and snapped. your walls spasmed and clenched around him as you released all over his cock. your body was shaking from the intensity, as you cried his name out. fueling his organs. his hips stuttered and he joined you in climax.

his movements ceased to slow rolls of his hips before eventually stopping.

soft pants and deep breaths invaded the space and filled the room around you. you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath. he then carefully pulled out. he held your body close to his chest, his eyes softening as he looked down at your exhausted face.

you nuzzled your head into soobin’s neck, kissing along his jawline. “that was so good.” you said between kisses. soobin responded with a contented hum, his fingers gently rubbing against your arm. the soft rustle of the sheets provided a soothing backdrop to the intimacy you had just shared, cocooning you in a bubble of fleeting bliss

but as the minutes passed, a subtle shift began to settle between you, like a distant tremor foreshadowing an impending quake. soobin’s touch, once tender and reassuring, began to falter. his breath, once steady and calming, now held an undertone of uncertainty.

“i should probably go back home,” soobin said, his arm slowly retreating from around your shoulder. “arin is alone.”

“seriously?” you turned to face him, a mixture of confusion and anger plastered on your face.

“what? she’s a guest.”

“you’re leaving?” you hold onto his arm, desperate to keep him close. “i thought you were going to spend the night.”

“i can’t leave her alone.”

“soobin, i just lost my virginity to you…” your voice trailed off, tears forming in your eyes. your hands dropped to your lap. the room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence.

“y/n–” you could feel your blood boiling.

“don’t.” you shifted away from him on the bed. “i just lost my virginity to you and you want to spend the night with some other girl.”

“i’m not spending the night with her.”

“what’s so special about her?”

“what?”

“why have you chosen to spend every moment of this break with her instead of me?”

“we spend time together.”

“yeah, with her always there.”

the room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your words settling into the air.

“she’s my friend and i care about her.”

“you care about her?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, every word laced with a pain that cut through the silence.

“yes i do. she couldn’t go home for winter break. I just want to make sure she doesn’t feel alone.”

“well what about me?”

“y/n, come on.”

“i told you i loved you.”

“y/n, i–” you could almost hear your heart break. he couldn’t even say it back to you.

you quickly sobered up, your walls rising like a fortress around you. “i think you should leave.”

“hey,” he reached out to hold you, but you swatted his hand away, the touch too little, too late. his fingers hung in the air for a moment before dropping, defeated.

“no. i don’t want you here anymore. you should go home.”

soobin stood up and got dressed. his movements were deliberate and slow as he gathered his scattered clothes. he dressed in silence, every gesture laden with a sense of finality. as he stood by the door, fully dressed, soobin turned to look at you. his eyes held a mixture of regret and longing, a silent plea for understanding that hung in the space between you. you met his gaze, your heart aching with a complex blend of emotions – love, betrayal, and a yearning for something that now felt impossibly distant.

the door creaked open and closed softly, the sound echoing in the hollow space left behind.

putting on a robe, you sat by your window, watching him go into his house, praying, hoping that he would turn around, see you sitting by your window, come back to you. but he just walked into his house, the door closing with a finality that sent a shiver down your spine. your room felt emptier than ever before.

you laid in your bed and let the tears fall freely, each drop a painful release. the weight of reality settled on your chest. a heavy ache seeped into your bones.

the days that followed felt like a slow-motion train wreck. it was as if the color had drained from the world, leaving only shades of gray. every passing moment that you didn’t hear from soobin was a jagged piece of glass, cutting into your soul. each night seemed longer than the last, filled with the silent echo of his absence.

you didn’t even know what hurt more — the raw vulnerability of giving him everything, only to have him leave, or the deafening silence that followed. the unanswered questions swirled like a storm in your mind. why hadn’t he reached out? was he feeling the same heartache that clung to your every breath?

his parents even visited for dinner and you had to paint a smile on your face throughout to hide the storm that raged within. when his mom inquired about your absence, you concocted a tale, your voice steady even though your heart felt like it might shatter.

other than your parents, the only person you spoke to was yuna, who became your lifeline even though she was on vacation with her parents. she was a voice of reason and a source of much-needed laughter. “honestly, fuck him. and fuck her too,” she declared.

“she didn’t even do anything,” you murmured in arin’s defense.

“who the fuck sits in the front seat of someone else’s boyfriend’s car?” yuna fired back, making you chuckle.

"i wish you were here. it's so miserable. i can't even leave my house because i'm scared i'm going to see him," you confessed, your voice a whisper edged with pain.

"if i was there, he'd probably have to file a restraining order against me."

returning to campus was like stepping onto a battlefield, but yuna was determined to wage war against the memories that threatened to engulf you and make you forget about a certain dark haired boy whose name you were no longer allowed to say. “you know what they say: in order to get over someone, you need to get under someone else.” she proclaimed from your closet, picking out something for you to wear tonight.

“i don’t know if i’m ready to get under someone else,” you admitted, fixing your mascara in your bathroom mirror, dressed in your robe.

“doesn’t matter if you actually do. you just need to get your mind off of him.” she hands you a black dress. “wear this. it always looks good on you.”

and so, you allowed yourself to be swept up in a night of bar hopping. the pulsing music and laughter washed over you like a healing balm. for a few precious hours, you were just another college student, drowning your sorrows in neon lights and thumping bass.

between the nights out, you threw yourself completely into your studies, the pursuit of a summer internship becoming your north star. you came to school to do something, and you weren’t going to let your heartache consume you.

spring was always a happy time for you. the air was warm, carrying with it the promise of renewal. it had been months since you had thought about soobin, and even longer since you had seen him. for the first time since that unfortunate night, you felt like you were completely over him. or at least getting there.

as you strolled back to your dorm from class, the world hummed with a quiet energy. the sun hung low in the sky and the air was soft and warm against your skin. but then you saw a familiar silhouette leaning against your dorm building. time seemed to stretch in that moment, the world around you fading into a blur. your heart quickened its pace, a staccato beat echoing in your chest.

"y/n," he breathed, his voice a soft plea that hung in the air. his presence was a sudden gust of wind, stirring the carefully constructed walls around your heart.

your guard was up, a fortress of steel around your heart. you wouldn't let him waltz back into your life just to tear you apart again. "what are you doing here?" you demanded, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

"i wanted to talk to you."

"how did you find my address?"

"your mom gave it to my mom, who gave it to me."

you let him into your building, signing him in with the security guards in the front. the familiar surroundings now felt foreign with him there. in the confines of your dorm room, he looked around, his gaze grazing over the familiar details that now seemed foreign.

“you said you wanted to talk. so talk.” you said to him sitting down. you were so grateful that your roommate had gone to class. you really didn’t need her to be in the room with you now.

he glanced around, his face marked with uncertainty. “i don’t know where to start.”

you met his gaze without a word.

“i guess… i could start with sorry.” he offered with a nervous chuckle.

“i think that’s too little, too late, soobin.” you asserted, matter of factly.

“i miss you.”

“you can’t keep saying that.” your shoulders sunk. looking at him now, you could feel all the emotions bubbling back up — the anger, the hurt, the tears, they were all coming back to you.

“i know, but it’s true.” he rushed to add. “that’s why i came here. i wanted to see you. i know we didn’t leave things the right way.”

“soobin, you were the first person i ever had sex with and you left me right after.” you tried to keep your cool and maintain your composure, but it was getting increasingly harder.

“i-i know. i’m sorry,” he stammered, remorse filling his eyes.

“is that all you came here to say? sorry?” he looked at you apologetically, offering no further words. “you hurt me so much and you couldn’t even say anything to me afterwards. i waited every day for months to see if you would ever call me and you didn’t. it was like i meant nothing to you. it was just so easy for you to forget that i existed.” as the words flowed, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness wash over you. the wounds were still fresh, but there was a catharsis in finally addressing the unspoken.

“i’m s—” he stopped himself. “i know i hurt you. i don’t know what i can do to make it right.”

“i don’t think there’s anything you can do to make it right.” you said, wiping the slow tears from your face. you sat up, meeting his gaze squarely. “i spent our entire relationship fighting for you to pay attention to me. i can’t do that anymore. i don’t want to beg someone to care about me.”

“i care about you. you know that.”

“do i?”

“i didn’t think this conversation would go like this if i’m being completely honest.”

“i’m not angry at you anymore. at least i’m trying not to be.” you tell him. “and i don’t hate you, if you thought i did. i don’t think i could ever hate you.”

“i don’t think i can’t not have you in my life.”

“i’m still your neighbor.” you joked.

“it’s not the same.” he admitted quietly, sitting beside you. “y/n, i love you.”

“soobin–” you turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign that he understood the depth of your pain.

“i know, it’s too late. i just wanted you to know.” his gaze fixed on his hands, fingers tracing invisible patterns on his jeans. “i can’t erase the past. but i want to try to make amends, to find a way back to some semblance of… of friendship, maybe.”

friendship. the word hung in the air, a fragile bridge between your shared history and the uncertain future.

“i don’t know if we can be friends. not right now, at least. maybe not ever.”

he looked up, pain etched in the frown lines across his face. “i understand,” he murmured, voice heavy with regret.

silence enveloped, broken only by the distant sounds of life outside. after what felt like an eternity, you finally spoke, your voice softer now. “i think i need time. to you know, figure out my shit.”

he nodded. “i want you to know that i’m sorry. truly.”

“i know.”

with a heavy heart, you walked him to the door. as he left, you closed the door behind him, leaning against it for support. alone in the quiet of your dorm, you let the tears come. finally you had a release of all the emotions long held in check. you had tried your hardest to bury them, but now it was time for them to finally come out. the pain was still there, but with each tear that fell, you felt a small measure of healing begin.

in the days that followed, you took each moment as it came, allowing yourself to grieve for what was lost and to slowly rediscover the strength within you. spring continued to dance outside, and you vowed to find your own renewal.

taglist: @boba-beom @dearlyjun @atinyniki @makoto @bunnie-hq @wiisoob @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx

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#fay's works #txt angst #txt fluff #choi soobin #soobin fluff #soobin angst #soobin x reader #soobin #choi soobin fluff #choi soobin angst #soobin smut #choi soobin smut #txt smut

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notspidergoth · 11 months

Text

HOBIE BROWN X BURNT OUT READER

Summary: Reader is overworking themselves, Hobie helps them out! (romantically implied)

Warnings: Forgetting to eat, almost fainting, my sleep-deprived grammar, oh and cursing

A/N: (totally not projecting right now how am I still in school. fucking finals... UGH!!)

Wordcount: 928 words

You continued to type on your laptop, vigorously working the paper your English teacher thought would be a good idea to assign a week before final exams.

There was still some homework to catch up on, pages of mindless busywork to jot out. Even yet there were still study guides to fill out and memorize, and did you end up finishing that project on-

Your train of thought was broken off by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open. The culprit looked up at you before closing the window behind him.

"Hey," Hobie greeted, walking over and leaning against your desk.

You moved some of the papers scattered on your desk out of his way, before continuing to type down your thesis statement.

"No 'hey' back today?" he smirked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, no, yeah, hey Hobie." you muttered, bowed over your laptop.

"When'd this all happen?" he gesturing to the stacks of papers on your desk.

"When all my teachers simultaneously decided to be fucking cunts."

He chuckled, sitting down on your bed. For the past while Hobie had been coming over to visit you, the both of you keeping each other company from time to time.

It was like he could sense when you were neglecting yourself at this point, always coming at the most opportune times.

"You seem pretty stressed, when's the last time you've taken a break?"

"A break? Sorry, but have you seen what I have left to do here?" you gestured, exasperated.

"I take that as a no for break-taking."

"Nope." you sighed, flipping through your notes.

"You at least eat something earlier?" he asked questioningly.

"Yeah, sure, yeah." you waved him away, reading through highlighted bullet points.

"Alright then." he shrugged, holding his hands up in surrender.

A couple hours past, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence with one another. You could faintly hear heavy guitar emitting from his phone, and the sound of him chuckling at whatever he was scrolling through. You could just imagine how his face looked when he smiled, the way the corners of his mouth would slant upwards into that arrogantly smug grin that just fit him so well, his lip piercing shifting ever so slightly when he-

"Doin alright?" Hobie looked over at you, "Ya kinda spaced out for a bit."

You looked up at Hobie, and then back down at the blinking cursor on your screen, the last edit made 11 minutes ago.

"Shit."

"Think its bout time you took a break." Hobie sat up, looking at you with concern.

Your brain finally caught up to the conversation. "Huh? No, I'm good, I'm good, sorry."

"Don't apologize." He said, getting up and leaning against your desk once again. "Its been awhile, lets go grab something to eat."

You looked back down at your paper, not nearly as close to done as you had wanted. "I can't, not right now... I'm almost finished it though!" You smiled tiredly, trying to hype yourself up for the remainder of the work left.

Hobie looked over at you, the piles of homework on your desk, and then back at you, before closing your laptop shut.

"Hey!-"

"Nope. C'mon, you're takin a break." he deadpanned, serious.

You were about to retaliate once more before he shot you a glare. You knew if you didn't stop now, he'd end up dragging you away from your desk. Or even worse, keep your laptop hostage. You shuddered at the thought, before you saw movement beside you.

Hobie held out a hand for you to grab, looking down at you from where he stood. The light in your room bounced off him, his metal studs and pins shining in the light.

You grabbed his hand, allowing him to help pull you up. Spots dotted their way into your vision as you stood, feeling the world spin around you. When was the last time you ate? You gripped onto his hand tighter, waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

"You good?" He looked down at you, faux uncaringness hiding the worry across his face.

"Mhm, yup, all good, perfect, just feel like fainting, gimmie a sec."

He continued to hold you up as you supported your weight against him. It was warm, comforting almost if you could ignore the sickly feeling in your stomach.

You were glad your body granted you the ability to see once more, blinking at your surroundings, only to be met with Hobie, having leaned down to look at you. His sharp dark eyes were laced with concern as they looked into yours.

"Shit, have you not eaten yet today?"

Thinking about it now, you couldn't quite recall when you last ate, but you couldn't quite remember much of anything staring into his eyes. You saw them soften before you, before he stood up straight again.

"Fucks sake, c'mon, lets go." Hobie rolled his eyes, putting one of your arms around his shoulders, holding you upright.

"Where we going?" You asked, feeling confident enough to stand on your own, but not wanting to pull away from his warm touch.

"Food joint. Someone smart as you'd think eating's a bright idea, no?" He chuckled, leading you through your bedroom door.

"Not taking the window this time?" you joked, giggling. He had always entered and exited your apartment through the windows, no matter how many times you've asked him to use the front door.

A smile pulled across his face, "Yeah, yeah, shuddup."

The two of you laughed, holding onto him as you left behind your homework.

A/N: (lets see if i have the mental capacity to keep posting!!! remember to eat and drink water!)

#hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie my beloved

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redroomreflections · 20 days

Text

II HANDS II HEAVEN 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

3/5 (even though we know it's more than likely this will be longer)

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Word Count: 3.8k words

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, her body drenched in a hot sweat. A dull ache pulsed through her left shoulder as she instinctively reached out to the headboard for support. Rubbing her shoulder, she squinted at the dim glow of the old alarm clock resting on the nightstand between the double beds. The numbers indicated it was just 11 pm—she hadn't been asleep for long.

As Natasha tried to shake off the grogginess of sleep, she realized something felt off. The hot sweat clinging to her skin and the soreness in her shoulder give her an uneasy feeling. She leaned over in bed, adjusting her eyes to the nightlight to see your covers were thrown back with no sight of you at all. Interesting. She figured you couldn’t have gone too far. You didn’t need a babysitter or someone watching over your shoulder. You’re a skilled spy just as she is. There was no need for her to worry.

With a sigh, Natasha swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through her damp hair. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep easily now, not with that nagging feeling gnawing at her mind. She decided to get up, maybe a glass of water or a short walk around the building would help clear her head.

But as she stood, her gaze fell on the window. Her curiosity got the best of her as she moved closer to the window. She noticed a small figure seated by the poolside, an unusual sight considering it was late at night and the pool area was closed. Squinting, Natasha observed an even smaller flicker of light coming from the person's lips—a cigarette. It’s you. How long had you been down there?

—-----------------

The peacefulness of the night enveloped you as you sat by the pool, the soft glow of the pool lights casting eerie shadows that distorted the shapes of the surroundings. With one hand propped on your knee, you idly kicked your toes into the water, feeling the gentle waves ripple beneath your feet. The pull of the cigarette between your lips offered a momentary calm as your mind wandered.

Thoughts swirled in your head—about the mission, about your time as an Avenger, about the mysterious meaning of life's purpose.

"Couldn't sleep?" Natasha's voice broke the silence as she approached, her footsteps barely audible except for the faint shuffle of her flip-flops against the damp concrete.

"Nah, I don't usually," You replied, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air as you took another puff of the cigarette. Tilting your head back, you watched as the smoke dispersed in the wind.

"Did I wake you when I left?" You asked. You pressed the cigarette into the concrete before twirling it in your hands.

“No,” Natasha said.

"Good," You nodded, acknowledging Natasha's unspoken disapproval at the sight and smell of the cigarette. "Don't worry, I threw the pack away," you reassured her, hoping to alleviate any concerns she might have about your habits.

Natasha offered a small, understanding smile. "Thanks," she said softly, appreciating the gesture. Despite her reservations about the habit, she knew you were making an effort, and that meant a lot to her. At least she knew she could trust you to be professional about this mission.

“I’ve been on missions before,” You confessed quietly.

"I know," Natasha replied, her tone gentle yet firm. "But that doesn't mean it's easy every time. We all have our ways of coping."

“Why are you being so cool all of a sudden?” You turned to her with suspicious eyes. “Less than eight hours ago you practically hated my guts. You’ve barely even looked my way the past three months.”

Natasha sighed, her expression softening. "I know, and I'm sorry," she admitted, meeting your gaze with honesty. "Sometimes it takes a wake-up call to realize we need to set aside differences and support each other. We're a team, after all." She paused, searching for the right words. "I guess I just realized that life's too short for grudges, especially in our line of work."

“Grudges are what fuel me,” You shrugged. “I have a few people on my list that certainly deserve that.”

Natasha nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it," she replied.

Natasha settled herself beside you, maintaining a comfortable distance, yet close enough to feel the subtle ripples of the water as she dipped her feet in. There was a quiet understanding between you, as neither of you had anything left to say.

“My favorite position is cowgirl,” You suddenly said. “Not for me for the other person.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the unexpected comment, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She chuckled softly before replying, "Well, that's certainly... a candid confession." She shook her head with a playful grin. "I'll remember that, though I'm not sure it's pertinent to our current situation."

“It is,” You glanced over at her. “We’ll probably be one of the only lesbian couples. Which means weird fetishizations and probing questions. Maybe even a game of truth or drink. Adults at resorts are unhinged.”

"You might have a point there," She conceded. “Give me the rundown on the dossier.”

You took a deep breath before launching into the details of the dossier. "Alright," you begin, "Shady Corners, as the name suggests, is a high-end resort nestled just outside of Miami in the Bay Harbor Islands. It’s owned by, Ilanka and Maxim Belinsky, it's known for catering to the elite, offering luxurious amenities and discreet services."

You leaned in closer, your voice lowering as you delved into the more clandestine aspects. "There’s a darker side to Shady Corners which is the entire reason for us. Rumors about the Belinskys' involvement in illicit activities, from money laundering to connections with underground cartels."

"Apparently," you continue, "guests have reported strange occurrences in the resort's secluded corners—mysterious meetings, people disappearing, and several break-ins, all hushed up by the Belinskys themselves. Couples keep checking in since it’s such a popular destination with a history behind it."

Natasha listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she took in the information. "Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us," she remarked.

“Indeed we do,” You sighed. “We should get some sleep.”

“I’m fine with staying here a little while longer.”

You nodded in understanding. "Alright," you replied.

Hour 12

A few short hours later, you found yourselves back on the road, with you taking the wheel this time. Natasha's unease was noticeable as you bobbed and weaved through the traffic, your driving style more assertive than she was used to. With each swift maneuver to pass SUVs and trailers, Natasha's grip tightened on the door handle, her knuckles turning white with tension.

You couldn't help but notice her discomfort, and though you tried to reassure her that you had everything under control, her nerves seemed to get the better of her.

“Do you understand speed limits?” She tersely asked as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder.

You glanced over at Natasha, noticing the edge in her tone as she asked about speed limits. Despite her brevity, you couldn't help but feel amusement at her concern. "Of course I do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. "But sometimes, you just gotta keep up with the flow of traffic, you know?"

Natasha's grip on the door handle tightened even more, and she shot you a disapproving look. "That's not an excuse to break the law," she retorted, her voice filled with frustration. "We have to be responsible drivers, especially on long trips like this."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit annoyed by her lecturing. "Relax, Natasha," You said "We'll get there in one piece, I promise."

“I would like to live to see thirty,” Natasha commented, tightening her seatbelt around her midsection.

“No way you’re being truthful about your age right now,” You flicked on your indicator, laying on the horn for the driver in front of you as they moved at a turtle’s pace.

You could sense Natasha's annoyance as she defended her age, her frown deepening. "I'm twenty-nine," She stated firmly. "Do I need to show you a birth certificate to confirm that? What makes you think I'm older?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips. "Relax, Natasha," You teased. "I was just saying, you seem a bit uptight for someone your age. But hey, maybe that's just part of your charm."

Natasha rolled her eyes, unamused by your comment. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. It was clear she wasn't in the mood for jokes. “I’m far from uptight.”

You furrowed your brow, considering her words for a moment. "Well, since you're so sure, let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?" you challenged.

"Remember when we missed that turnoff and you practically had a meltdown?" you began, counting off on your fingers. "Or how about when I accidentally spilled coffee on the map and you acted like it was the end of the world? It is crazy that we’re using a map anyway when there’s a perfectly good GPS right here on the dashboard. Unless you’re testing me. I thought you trusted that I was a good spy."

“Trust is a strong word,” Natasha shook her head. “What’s that training like anyway? Coming through a government agency.”

"It's... intense," You replied, your tone guarded as you skirted around the topic. "But it's nothing like the Red Room if that's what you're thinking."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, not wanting to delve too deep into your past. The memories of your training were still fresh in your mind, and you preferred not to think about them. "Let's just say it involves a lot of rigorous training and a fair share of close calls," you added cryptically, hoping to steer the conversation away from your own experiences.

“A close enough call to have a four-inch scar on your back?” Natasha tilted her head.

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Natasha's astute observation. "Well, you've got quite the eye for detail," you replied with a forced chuckle, trying to deflect her question. You shifted in your seat, a hint of discomfort creeping into your expression. "Unless you’re also ready to discuss the scars you have too?”

“Touche’,” Natasha sighed.

You raised an eyebrow, shifting the focus of the conversation with a swift change of topic. "So are you and Rogers a thing?" you asked, a sly grin spreading across your face. If there was going to be anyone in the hot seat, it needed to be her. It was about time you made the Black Widow uncomfortable.

Natasha's expression remained neutral. She paused for a moment, considering her response carefully before replying, "Steve and I have a professional relationship, nothing more."

You pressed on, determined to push her buttons. "Sure, sure," you teased, leaning in slightly. "But I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more there."

Natasha's facade faltered for just a moment, a little bit of frustration crossing her features before she quickly regained her composure. "Believe what you want," she replied coolly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion on the matter.

“Come on, it’s okay to say you’ve tapped that,” You egged her on. “Stop being so prissy for a second. It’s unbecoming.”

Natasha's jaw tensed as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at your persistence. "I don't see how my personal life is any of your business," she replied sharply, her tone tinged with irritation. "And I certainly don't appreciate your crude insinuations."

You could sense her growing frustration, but you pressed on, determined to get a rise out of her. "Oh, come on, lighten up," you teased, leaning in closer. "It's not like anyone would blame you for going for the Captain. He's like the poster boy for good looks and heroism."

Natasha's gaze narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "I suggest you drop it before you say something you'll regret," she warned, her voice low and measured. It was clear she had reached her limit.

“Ohh, I’m shaking in my boots,” You rolled your eyes. “At first the pressure was on me. Be more like Natasha. Take notes from Natasha. Ask Natasha for help. We can't even hold a simple conversation.”

Natasha's jaw tightened at your sarcastic remark, her frustration is evident in her expression. "I never asked for you to be like me," she retorted, her tone clipped. "And if you're feeling pressured, that's on you, not me."

You could sense the tension between you escalating, and you knew you had hit a nerve. But instead of backing down, you continued to push, fueled by a mix of defiance and annoyance. "Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don't act like you haven't enjoyed being put on that pedestal. It's not like you haven't reveled in being everyone's golden girl."

Natasha's eyes flashed with annoyance, her patience wearing thin. "That's enough," she stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't be dragged into your petty games. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face instead of hiding behind snide remarks."

“I don’t have a problem with you,” You began. “It’s the simple fact that you’re committed to this whole mean girl serious chick schtick. You’ve insulted me fifteen times this morning without holding your breath or thinking about it. I simply want to know what’s up. So I’m asking? Last night we were cool. This morning it’s giving me an entirely new personality.”

“So, to get back at me you imply that I’m sleeping with my teammate?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Natasha processed your words.

"Implying? No," You retorted. "I merely observed a dynamic between teammates. If you took it as an insult, that's on you."

“I think you’re jealous,” Natasha commented.

Your response was swift, fueled by a mixture of frustration and defiance. "Jealous?" you echoed incredulously, a flash of indignation in your eyes. "Of what, exactly?" Natasha's comment caught you off guard, the accusation striking a nerve. "I'm not jealous," you countered, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just don't appreciate being undermined and belittled at every turn."

There was a tense silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension. Natasha's expression remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes, daring you to continue the confrontation.

“Jealous of that fact that I was welcomed into the group based on merit and skills alone,” Natasha gloated. “I didn’t need my government daddy to put a word in for me.”

Natasha's words stung, hitting a nerve deep within you. You clenched your jaw, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of her taunting.

"Merit and skills alone, huh?" you replied through gritted teeth, your tone laced with bitterness. "Funny, considering the lengths you've gone to to prove yourself at every turn."

But you swallowed your pride, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the urge to lash out. With a tight-lipped smile, you met Natasha's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see how deeply her words had wounded you.

"Congratulations," You replied tersely, your voice cold and clipped. "I'm glad you're so proud of yourself. Now let's focus on the task at hand, shall we?"

The silence went on for a few seconds longer before you scrunched your nose.

“And government Daddy?” You frowned. “Who the hell do you think is my dad?”

Natasha's expression remained impassive, her gaze steady as she delivered her next words with a calculated calmness. "I don't know," she replied evenly, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it's someone like Ross."

The mention of Ross's name sent a chill down your spine, stirring up memories of past encounters and the uneasy alliance you had with him. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself from him, his shadow seemed to loom over you like a specter, a constant reminder of the ties that bound you to the government.

“Holy Fuck,” You clenched your fists, struggling to contain the anger bubbling within you. "Ross?" you scoffed, your tone dripping with disdain. "He's nothing but a manipulative bureaucrat with his own agenda. I have no ties to him, and I certainly don't need him to vouch for me."

“Why is his name riddled all over your file then?”

You felt a knot form in your stomach at Natasha's question, a sinking feeling settling in as you grappled with how much she knew about your past. "I... I don't know," you replied, your voice strained with uncertainty. "Maybe it's just... paperwork. I've had dealings with him in the past, but that doesn't mean he's my... my father."

Despite your attempt to brush off the implications, Natasha's piercing gaze bore into you, her scrutiny unrelenting. "You can't just dismiss it like that," she insisted, her tone firm. "There's a reason his name keeps popping up in your file."

You shook your head firmly, dispelling any notion of familial ties between you and Ross. "No, not because we're related," you asserted, your voice resolute. "I've made it clear before—I have no familial connection to Ross."

Natasha regarded you with a scrutinizing gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then why is his name so intertwined with your file?" she pressed, her tone insistent.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Natasha's reaction to your explanation. "Spectra was deeply connected with the CIA," you began, your voice steady despite the lingering frustration. "Ross helped me out with some intel. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Natasha regarded you with a thoughtful expression, her gaze probing as she considered your words. "Is that all it was?" she asked, her tone cautious. "Or was it part of a larger plan to spy on the Avengers?"

You shook your head, the weight of Natasha's suspicion weighing heavily on you. "No," you replied firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. "I would never betray the team like that. Ross may have his own agenda, but I'm not a pawn in his game."

As Natasha continued to scrutinize you, a glimmer of realization crossed her features. "So what's the deal?" she asked, her voice softening slightly as she searched your eyes for the truth. "You're not exactly the type to strike up a deal with Ross without a good reason."

"It's complicated," You admitted. "But after Spectra's downfall, I was left vulnerable. Ross and Tony offered me protection, a way to defect from the shadows and start fresh."

Natasha's brow furrowed in understanding, though there was a hint of skepticism in her expression. "And what do they get out of it?" she pressed, her tone cautious.

You sighed heavily, knowing that Natasha wouldn't let up until she had all the answers. "Information," you confessed, the weight of your betrayal heavy on your conscience. "About Spectra.”

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, the gravity of your situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket.

“You’re an informant?” Natasha breathed. She knew it. She couldn’t believe this.

You nodded solemnly, meeting Natasha's gaze with a heavy heart. "Yes," you admitted, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "I'm an informant."

Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her disbelief palpable as she struggled to come to terms with the revelation. "I knew it," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank you, Kim Possible for knowing it all,” You rolled your eyes.

“Who’s Kim Possible?”

“And you’re still telling me you’re under thirty,” You mumbled. You rolled your eyes at Natasha's response, unable to resist a sarcastic retort

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewilderment. "She's a fictional character from an old cartoon," you explained. "Always saving the day and solving mysteries. Thought you might appreciate the comparison."

“So, you gained immunity for your crimes then in exchange for information?” Natasha deduced.

“Something like that,” You shrugged. “I’m an Avenger though because of my skills. I could have gone into a witness protection program or something.”

There was a moment of silence as Natasha absorbed your words, the weight of your choices hanging heavily in the air between you. "I understand," she replied finally, her tone softening with understanding.

“Do you? Because it seems like you want to use my past against me every chance you get,” You eased up on the accelerator. “I was a teen when I became a pawn for Spectra. They weren’t the cleanest government agency. None of them are. You may have involuntarily joined the Red Room but it’s not like I had much of a choice either. I was a poor kid from Jersey with no money or family. I did what I had to do to survive.”

“I do understand,” Natasha nodded.

“Look can we make a deal,” You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Can we just be cordial? We don’t have to be friends. I’m not expecting us to have sleepovers and braid each other's hair. I would simply like to make this work so that we get what we need out of this mission.”

Natasha regarded you for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she considered your proposal. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly. "Agreed," she replied, her voice firm. "Cordial it is."

You offered her a small nod of gratitude, relieved to have reached a truce, however tentative it may be. She reached into the backseat, grabbing something you couldn't see before you realized it was the magazine from yesterday.

“What is your favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy and are you satisfied with the frequency you receive it?”

You blinked in surprise at Natasha's unexpected question, taken aback by its intimacy. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to such a personal inquiry.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself before replying, "Um, well, I guess my favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy would be... hugs? I suppose?" You offered a hesitant smile, feeling a bit awkward under Natasha's scrutinizing gaze. "I’m not really comfortable with a lot of physical touch. For personal reasons. And as for the frequency... I guess it's alright. I don't really think about it much."

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she tucked the magazine back into its place. "Good to know," she remarked casually, as if she hadn't just asked you one of the most personal questions imaginable.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit exposed by the exchange. But despite the awkwardness, you couldn't help but appreciate Natasha's attempt at breaking down the walls between you, even if it was in her own unconventional way. With a small nod of acknowledgment, you turned your attention back to the road ahead of you.

------> part 4

#natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #what is this story #enemies to lovers #slow burn #angst #mutual pining #angst with a happy ending

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