#i know crazy summer's writing fluff again

[zreamy]

won't let you go (this time)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

genre: angst.. ......... fluff, smut, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn

warnings: minors dni, british in a way that's not vague (might be vague.. it's hard to tell when ur british), so so long, sad heeseung, long paragraphs..

word count: 36,007 .. (apparently, i'm in a competition with myself to see who can write the longest fic)

playlist: seasons wave to earth, understand keshi

author's note: writing this fic was like pulling teeth and then cooking pasta out of it.. bUT IT'S DONE !!! also one of these scenes is smth i reworked from a fic i posted to wattpad in 2021.. thanks @asahicore for the beta u rock ! and as always be lmk ur thoughts (positive/negative/anything) 🤍

fic taglist: @enhastolemyheart

Lee Heeseung had often imagined what it would be like when he saw you again. 

Sometimes, he envisioned you standing on his doorstep, playing with the cuffs of your sweater. Other times he’d dream up a chance encounter at the local grocery shop, where you’d be distracted and bump the end of your trolley into his. He’d even pictured a sun-soaked vacation, a gorgeous white sand beach where the temperature would be inching past the thirties. You, laying out on a patterned towel, lost in the pages of a book, and your pretty face obscured by its cover. Yet, even with the sun in his eyes and his poor vision, he’d recognise you without a doubt. 

Regardless of circumstance or setting, in all of his hazy daydreams, you’d look up at him with unbridled love in your eyes and say the words he wanted to hear all those months ago: I choose you. 

Heeseung had always imagined that his heart might glow in his chest, through his shirt like something from Jane the Virgin, and you’d know you made the wrong decision. 

But sometimes, typically when in an alcohol-fuelled state of despondence, these images would be rougher around the edges. Heeseung would be hot, with bleach-blond hair and thick dark brows—a walking, talking beacon of sexual energy when you’d see him. In his head, it would happen at a party or a club somewhere, and he’d be too busy talking to another girl to notice you, his arm hanging off of her, lust clear in his eyes. Somehow, even in sweatpants and an old hoodie of his, you’d still look as beautiful as always. 

“Heeseung,” you’d say, completely crushed with tears welling up in your eyes under furrowed brows. “I choose you.”

Reluctantly, he’d draw his eyes away from the girl and notice you, finally, and a smile would spread on his lips, a mean one, condescending. He’d shrug, wrapping his arm tighter around the girl and say, “You’re too late.” He wouldn’t mean it, but he’d say it just to drive you crazy. Make you beg him to take you back for months until he felt you’d suffered enough—as much as he had. 

These thoughts were few and far between and mainly followed by hot, guilty tears rolling down his cheeks because he knew it was his fault. After all, he was the one to let you go.

For now though, the little round table in Mark’s backyard seats four, and, in the arms of a balmy summer night, Heeseung chooses the seat closest to the fence. The garden light is still busted so in his seat of choice, furthest from the kitchen door, he’ll go completely unnoticed but still see anyone who might join him outside.

His phone is freezing when he takes it from his pocket and unsurprisingly holds no notifications beyond the outsiiiide text he’d gotten from Jake before the party started. Through Instagram stories, Heeseung watches the night play out from the perspective of people who are enjoying themselves while ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he could be one of those people if he tried. 

Maybe he was a fool for believing that tonight would go differently and that the boys would keep their ‘bro’s night’ promise for longer than it took to cross the threshold—but it’s not like he blames them. Maybe he was a fool for believing he would find more company than his somewhat abandoned bottle of Peroni that watches him mockingly from the glass table. 

He grimaces after taking a sip from it, remembering that he was only ever carrying it around so his friends wouldn’t feel the need to load him with shots. Now he’s not so sure that would’ve been a bad thing, seeing as he’s completely sober and aware of the tightness in his chest as he scrolls through the text thread he’s had pinned for years. Its end came abruptly; revived only by an ignored blue bubble saying: i heard you’re back home for the summer.. 

Seeing it now, he regrets hitting send even more than he did two weeks ago. Heeseung hates himself for believing the boys when they said it was a good thing that you opened the message right away. “Means she’s thinking of u 2 dude,” was Jake's message to the group chat (along with four bicep emojis and two red exclamation marks). Jay replied: i hope you guys can talk things out! And Sunghoon didn’t say anything. 

All your conversations bring up memories that hurt more than the last but he has to take a break when he reaches a text you sent last January: i had so much fun tonight, hee, idk how to thank u enough :((( i hope ur not in too much trouble.. i love you i love you and i’ll love you forever !!!

He ended up getting grounded for three weeks and lost car privileges for months after staying out four hours past curfew, but he’d do it a million times over if it meant he’d get to see you as happy as you were that night on the two-hour drive back, running your fingertips over the Sharpie autograph of your favourite author on the book’s front page—“Heeseung?” 

His jaw falls slack and his whole body stiffens. If you don’t count old videos in his camera roll, Heeseung hasn’t heard your voice in over a year. The back door slides shut and when he finally lifts his head, he wants to throw up. Even without the glow of the kitchen lights on your face, he’d still be able to make out the cute point of your nose, and the slight curve of your soft lips. Unfortunately, the breakup only seems to have made you even more beautiful and he hates himself for wishing you were having a hard time too. 

“Hey,” you say. “Can I sit?” 

Regaining his mobility, he moves his shoulders in a stiff shrug. The sound of your chair scraping the concrete makes him cringe and he hates that you chose the seat closest to him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” 

Heeseung scoffs, his brows furrowing defensively. “You didn’t think I’d be at my friend’s party?” 

You set your jaw. “Okay.” 

An unbearable silence follows, so heavy he can feel it sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. There’s no way to know how much time has passed but he feels less tense when you start to hum, drumming your fingers against the table to the beat of whatever song the kitchen door is struggling to muffle. If he doesn’t think too hard about the lingering quiet, it feels like everything is okay between you two. 

His heart races when you giggle. “You still do that?” 

“Do what?” 

You smile before mirroring his expression, puffing up your cheeks and exhaling dramatically a few times. Due to the heat, nothing comes of it but you laugh anyway. “You always liked when it was cold enough out to see your breath. I remember having to nudge you every night of summer to get you to stop.”

To Heeseung, there’s something sinister about the fact that you can so easily bring up a memory you share with him. About the fact that even after what happened, his cheeks heat up just from seeing you grin. He deflates, unable to look at you, finding interest in the label on his bottle instead. It’s slightly curled up at its edge, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before peeling it off completely—with some struggle, leaving a sticky patch in its wake. Under your loaded stare, he folds it a little to make a square before trying to craft a swan or a crane (you were the one who knew these things) from the sticker. 

Your hands are just as soft as he remembers when your fingers touch his, though it shocks him so much he drops the label, immediately withdrawing his hands and, for lack of a better option, sitting on them. Even softer than your hands is your voice when you say, “I don’t want things to be so tense between us.” 

It must be easy, he thinks. For you to say something like that after dumping him. Heeseung wants to laugh, to let his head fall back and cackle from sheer disbelief; you really must have some nerve. Instead, a bitterness, raging and sour, works in his chest, choking the laughter into silence. It pushes his lips into a scowl as he lifts his head to look at you. You’re shivering with your arms crossed over your chest and Heeseung softens. Without thinking, he shrugs off his flannel to drape it over your shoulders, almost regretting it when he fixes his tongue to scold you playfully like he used to. Still too hot for a jacket, right, baby? he wants to say. This is the last time I’m doing this for you, next time you’re on your own. Heeseung figures that somewhere, in another reality where you’re still together, a version of him says these things but continues to give you his flannels and jackets anyway.

He’d give anything to be that Heeseung instead. 

Over the last year, he’s been replacing the clothes in his wardrobe. He noticed that during your time together you steadily wore every t-shirt, flannel, and hoodie he owned. Now, as you thank him with a sincere smile, he realises he’ll have to donate his new favourite shirt too. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask, reaching in to find out. A bleak carton of cigarettes sits full in your hands as you look over at him with wide eyes. “You smoke now?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Never.” 

Back and forth between your hands, the box and its contents rustle. “Really? Because this—” You pause to pull a lighter from the same pocket. “—and this tell me something different.”

“Sunghoon’s quitting again,” he explains, with air quotes around the word quitting. 

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, nodding fondly. “He’s on, like, five weeks or something by now, though, right? Surely you don’t still need to carry these around for him.”

His head tilts so quickly he hurts his neck. With knitted brows, he inspects you. Nothing about your expression seems like you’re trying to hurt him, in truth, you look like you’re being quite sincere; your eyes are wide, curious, and your lips are quirked up at the corners with an amusement he adores. “Six,” he corrects. “How do you know?” 

“He told me.” 

“You guys still talk?” 

A shoulder-dropping sigh falls from your mouth as you put the cigarettes and lighter back in his pocket, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re the only one who doesn’t talk to me anymore,” you say in a small voice. 

The five of you stuck together in high school — where he and Jay first met you, Jake, and Sunghoon — and he knew it would be unreasonable for him to expect your shared friends, especially the youngest two whom you’d known longer, to turn on you. He also figured, given how close you’d grown to Jay, and his undying rationality, that his best friend would outright refuse to shun you on Heeseung’s behalf. Even though they didn’t need his permission, he told them that he didn’t want them to feel like they had to pick sides and that he was perfectly happy for them to keep talking to you. On one condition: that none of them tell him anything about you or your life without him unless you’re hurt—a condition they’ve clearly carried out more faithfully than Heeseung expected them to. 

Bile rises in his throat thinking about all the things your friends have kept from him about your year away. His heart twists over mundane details like your class schedules and favourite things to eat for lunch, and his eyes sting with tears over the important stuff like new friends and, worst of all, new partners. 

Heeseung jolts out of his chair, knocking the table so hard with his thighs that his bottle tips over. You’re quick to catch it. “My mum’s calling,” he blurts out, overwhelmed. 

“Heeseung.” 

“I really have to go.” 

“Heeseung!” you call out, but he’s already back inside. 

You don’t follow him. 

But that was in June, and now it’s September. 

While his friends complain about the chill of autumn, Heeseung’s just happy he can comfortably wear hoodies everywhere again. In a cool lecture hall, home to his Ethics and Responsibility class for the next few months, he relishes the feeling of soft cotton against his ears as he copies the course reading list into the first page of his notebook. 

“Is someone sitting here?” 

Heeseung’s stomach sinks to the floor. Reluctantly, he lifts his head, and through the gaps in his bangs, he sees you and the way your face falls when you see him, instantly looking around the room. 

“Oh,” you say, eyes blown. “I’m sorry, I’ll just..” you trail off.

He scans the room, chewing his lip when he realises that, despite the lecturer not having arrived yet, the seat to his left, with his backpack on it, is the only empty one. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to seem nonchalant as he takes his bag from the chair and puts it on the floor. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, frowning a little as you sit down. 

In the light of day, he really sees you and a lone butterfly, one he was sure had died with the rest last year, flutters lazily in his stomach—wings buzzing against the lining, tickling him. Even with messy hair and tired bags under your eyes, you’re just as beautiful as the first time he saw you. It’s unfair, he thinks. That you could be dealing with this and still manage to look presentable. Jealousy kills the butterfly, stirring a pit in his belly at the thought that you were able to break up with him and continue with life as normal on the other end of the country, making new friends and new memories as if nothing happened. 

Even when Dr. Kim comes in and starts the class, Heeseung can’t take his eyes off of you. You haven’t lost any of your mannerisms, he notices when you stick your tongue out a little while typing notes as the lecturer says them, barely looking up from your laptop to see the slides. 

At the end of the lecture, all he has to show for it is the reading list and a couple of bullet points that seemed important as he copied them from your screen. Side by side, you silently walk down the stairs to leave the room, and the sight of Sunghoon through the doorway pulls a relieved sigh from Heeseung’s chest. 

Sunghoon’s brows raise seeing you together and he clears his throat when you’re close enough. “Hey, you two! My little study buddies,” he says in a strained voice. “First day back! First day for you, YN, what was that like?” He sounds like he’s reading from a script as he walks between you. 

Heeseung lets you answer, listening to your voice as he walks behind you down the stairs. He wonders if things will be this way forever, briefly contemplating throwing himself over the bannister so he doesn’t have to find out. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it, talking excitedly with Sunghoon about the class, mentioning things Heeseung hadn’t even heard, despite having sat through the same hour-long introduction lecture as you. He trails behind the two of you all the way to the library, where Jay is sleeping with his chin on his arms and Jake is staring at the table of contents in his textbook. You cut yourself off, jogging over to the table they’re sitting at to wake Jay. As soon as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches, waking up with his brows pulled together. 

“What are you doing?” Jay mumbles, trying to shake you off. 

As Heeseung sits beside Jake, he skims over the front page of the textbook, trying to remember what tensile strength means. Sunghoon stands at the end of the table looking at his phone, and you sit next to Jay, pulling your seat a little closer and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. Heeseung looks away, trying to bury the unease building in his stomach. 

Sunghoon breaks the silence. “Can we go get food?” And suddenly, you all stand up, filing out of the library towards the Tesco Express down the road. 

Jay and Sunghoon take the lead, picking up their lunch without much thought before waiting in line at the self-checkout, while you, Jake, and Heeseung spend an ungodly amount of time weighing up options in front of the meal deals. Heeseung gets the same thing every time but looks at every single sandwich, drink, and snack option just in case before picking up his food. 

“Just cheese is crazy, bro,” Jake says, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?” 

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s reliable.” 

“It’s absurd.” 

You hum between the two of them, tilting your head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Your shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug, almost as if you haven’t just paid Heeseung a compliment for the first time in a year and three months. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise, a grin playing on his lips as he glances between the two of you when you step forward, pulling a just cheese sandwich from the shelf too. “Cute,” he repeats. “Sure.” 

Outside, Jay and Sunghoon are sitting on a half-finished brick wall, and while normally, Heeseung would say something to interrupt Jay’s never-ending lecture series on making the most of your meal deal, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or the small smile he’s struggling to keep off his face. 

“Hoon, think about it,” he says, resting his giant can of Red Bull on the stepped brick next to him. “A meal deal costs £3. You get a sandwich, a drink, and a snack, all for £3. You, foolishly, bought a sandwich, a snack, and a bottle of water, you gave them money.” 

“Yeah, man, anyone who shops anywhere gives money, that’s, like, an entry-level requirement.” 

“But I’m taking money from Tesco, you get it?” 

Jake sighs, taking a seat next to Sunghoon. “You’re technically right, but you still paid for your food under a promotion Tesco created. If you really wanted to take from Tesco, you should be stealing your lunch. Also, the sandwich he got was £2.85, and there’s more water in his bottle than Red Bull in your can, so I actually think Hoon got the better offer today.” 

Beside Heeseung, you roll your eyes, wrestling with a packet of crisps while juggling everything in your hands. Seeing your struggle, he reaches over, taking hold of your drink and sandwich. “Thanks,” you mumble, smiling. You glance towards Jay and Sunghoon, then back at Heeseung. “Are they always like this?” 

He nods with a slight frown. A tiny laugh comes through your nose as you nod too. 

During the walk back to campus, as you split your sandwich with Sunghoon, Heeseung has an unsettling realisation. If he wants to get you back, he’ll have to start out being your friend. He’s not too sure what that will look like, seeing as the two of you were friends for six weeks — that he spent hopelessly in love with you — before he asked you out. All he knows is he wants to be the one you share your lunch and link arms with unthinkingly. While he assumes that your shared friend group and three out of four classes will naturally lead to friendship, things might go better if he makes an effort.

He doesn’t.

Not today at least. The second and last class of the day ends much like the first, with a heading in his notebook, and slowly reviving butterflies in his stomach every time your knee bumps into his under the desk. Again, neither of you says much as you leave the class to go meet Jay in the library. He’s awake this time, grinning at the girl across from him. 

“They’re so cute!”

“They’re talking.” 

“Yeah, in a cute way. Look at the smile on his face,” you say as if anyone could miss Jay’s grin or the way it widens when he notices you and Heeseung staring. 

Yunjin immediately looks over, waving before getting out of her seat to come over. She greets Heeseung with a hug before flinging her arms around you, gushing about how it’s been so long. Heeseung feels his brow raise when you giggle and  say, “We hung out two weeks ago.”

She loosens her hold on you, looking down into your eyes with a shocked look. “Yeah, two weeks too many. What are you doing later?” 

It feels like Heeseung skipped a chapter and his stomach hurts when he realises he has—a whole year's worth of the contents of your life. Of course, Jay already introduced Yunjin to you, of course, you’re already friends. 

Leaving you with Yunjin in the library, Heeseung and Jay walk back to their flat. They take the long route home, through the winding bike path and over the creaky footbridge by Sunghoon’s old apartment. Jay is eerily quiet, only responding in nods and hums—this silence means one of two things, he’s either too exhausted to speak or he’s saving his words to reprimand Heeseung at home. 

Outside their flat, Jay hesitates, gripping the handle tightly before turning to Heeseung. In his eyes is a familiar look, the one he typically wears before telling someone off and Heeseung bites his tongue lest he pisses Jay off even more. A few times, Jay opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, exhaling a deep sigh as he rests his head against the door. “I want you to know I’m on your side, sort of,” he says. “If it’s too hard being around YN, we can always hang out together instead, just us.” 

Jay’s key clicks in the lock and Heeseung watches, shocked. He didn’t expect that at all. 

“It’s not like it’s hard, just weird, you know?” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, leaving his shoes by the door while Jay locks it before following him into the living room and sinking into the couch. “We have the same friends, so I can’t avoid her, but I don’t think I want to.” 

“Like I said, we can just hang out on our own if we’re on campus.” Jay pauses for a beat, clearly pleased by whatever he’s thinking about as a smile spreads on his face. “It might do you some good being around her though, like, to see why none of us want to date her.” 

The offer is generous and Heeseung spends a while considering it. But as Jay said, it probably would be a good thing to hang out with you if he wants to build the friendship he finds himself craving. 

“It might also do you some good to, you know.. start looking nice again. It’s been a year, dude, and she’s back now, don’t you want her seeing what she’s missing out on?” 

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, surprised and honestly a little offended. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?” 

“No, I’m saying it probably wouldn’t hurt to put some essence in your hair, touch up your roots, and, you know, use deodorant.” 

Reflexively, he grabs the pit of his hoodie, bringing it to his nose and sniffing furiously. The only thing he can smell is fresh detergent and he looks at Jay with a frown. “So you think I should change everything about myself basically.” 

“I hate to be the one to say it..” Jay trails off, head falling back in contagious laughter. “Seriously though, if you want her back or, at least, want her to miss you, start putting some effort in.” 

Heeseung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “She doesn’t miss me?”

“You spent the whole day together, why would she miss you?” 

“So she doesn’t.” 

“I didn’t say that.” Jay shrugs. 

Outside, a cloud moves away from the sun, letting it shine right through the window and into Heeseung’s eyes. He squints a little, groaning before bringing his arm over his face to shield himself. Jay laughs and Heeseung flips him off. “You didn’t really say anything.” 

“Are you crying?” Jay coos. 

“Sure.” 

“Too bad, I’m taking a nap. Club later?” 

Heeseung grunts in response, considering taking a nap too. 

A dramatic sigh tugs its way from Jay’s chest. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but she told me a few months ago she was miserable in first year, something about wanting to see some guy she dated in high school.”

“You knew she was coming back?” Heeseung practically jumps in his seat, sitting up straighter. “You knew I’d see her today and you let me leave the house looking like this?” It’s not like he looks bad in his oversized black hoodie and sweatpants but he might have taken the time to do more than run a hand through his hair this morning if he knew.

Jay holds his hands up defensively. “You said you didn’t want to hear anything about her unless she died. I was just doing what you told me to.” 

“I think it goes without saying that that would’ve been a nice thing to know.”

“Noted.” Jay nods. “Club later?”

Despite saying no, Heeseung finds himself at the club anyway, having a friendly dance battle with Jay while you hype them up, filming blurry videos with your finger over the camera lens. Jake and Sunghoon came out too but went off to find girls. 

Heeseung spent all of pres and the journey to the club worrying about being drunk around you. Or rather, worrying about being drunk around drunk you. Drunk you who typically gets clingy and oversentimental just looking at a bottle of vodka, or brings up old memories and uses pouty, gloss-coated lips to say things without thinking of the consequences. For better or for worse, you haven’t done any of that yet. 

Between knocking back drinks and rivalling the club photographer, you find time to make a look of disgust every time a guy comes near you, immediately shaking your head and pressing yourself against Heeseung before mumbling an apology in his ear each time, even though he tells you it’s okay. Your admirers start to dwindle when he dances with you to a song you like, letting you hold his hand and pull him closer, all while wishing he’d stayed asleep on the couch. 

It’s only when the fifth guy shows up with a stupid smirk on his face, that Heeseung speaks up. His arm finds your waist and he holds you close as he looks at the stranger. “Dude, leave her alone,” he says, angling his shoulder to him in an attempt to shield you. “She’s not interested.” The weight of his words is lost on him until the guy rolls his eyes, shrugging and mumbling whatever as he leaves. 

He saw how uncomfortable you looked after being approached and hated how long it took for you to start enjoying yourself again, so in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. To look after you. But now, as he stands with his hand on your waist, his skin touching yours at the hem of your shirt, he’s starting to feel like he’s crossed a line. It’s the worst possible time to freeze in place but there’s nothing he can do about it, and Jay staring at him, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, isn’t exactly helping. 

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and neck, Heeseung finally looks down at you. You look almost as shocked as Jay for a split second before letting your hand rest on his chest, smiling. The moment feels endless until you lean up to his ear and Heeseung has to bend down a bit. “Thank you, Hee,” you say, still smiling when you pull back. 

All he can do is nod, smiling too.

Over your head, he sees Jay grinning and the heat returns to his cheeks. As if suddenly aware of your position — your hands now resting on his shoulders, chests held together by your grip on each other — the smile falls from your face as you take a huge step back, bumping into Jay while Heeseung’s hand slips from your body. 

“Let’s get more drinks!” you yell to Jay, slinging an arm over his shoulders to pull him away. 

On his own, Heeseung dances to three whole songs, only stopping when Yoo Jimin wraps her arm around him, holding him in the world’s tightest hug. “Lee Heeseung, did I just see you all over a girl?” The interaction takes him by surprise, seeing as he hasn’t actually spoken to her since before summer. “Let’s go for drinks soon, to say congrats on finally moving on!” 

This, of course, is when you and Jay finally return. Jimin notices before he does. “Be good to him,” she yells, smiling, and never letting go of Heeseung. “Bad breakup!” 

You stand there, holding two drinks so tightly your hands start shaking, causing one to spill over your fingers. A strained smile spreads over your lips as you nod. “Right! I’ll try!” 

As quickly as she appears, Jimin vanishes with a smile on her face, pleased with herself. You visibly relax, handing Heeseung his drink and swaying to the music again. Just like at high school parties, you let Jay sling his arm over your shoulders as you dance together. Back then, you’d dance with all of your friends while waiting for Heeseung to return, usually with a cup of water for you to drink, but tonight, with Heeseung standing there, it seems like he’s as good as dead according to you. 

It’s around 2 a.m. when you and Jay decide you’ve had enough, with Jay struggling to keep his eyes open. After failing to locate Sunghoon and easily finding Jake with his cap on backwards and makeup all over his mouth and cheeks, the three of you let him know you’re going home. 

As seems to be the unspoken rule amongst your friends, Jay walks between the two of you while trying to convince you both that if you had fun tonight, there’s no reason to regret having gone out. Even if it means you’ll be sitting in class holding your eyes open. Heeseung ignores him, conspiring out loud about Sunghoon’s whereabouts—getting lost on his way to the restroom or finding an ice rink out back. 

For a while, you entertain him before sighing. “I saw in the chat, he said he’s out talking to a girl he saw wearing a band shirt—Nirvana.” 

The notion is so surprising that Heeseung almost stops in his tracks. Jay voices his shock with a raised brow and an incredulous tone. “Hoon listens to Nirvana?” 

“No, but she’s pretty. I had to send him a screenshot of their popular songs on Spotify when one of her friends came over looking for a lighter.” 

At Jay’s request, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the walk back to your flat trying to name fifteen Nirvana songs. By the time you reach the lift in your building, you’ve successfully listed nine and the three of you stand inside while you look for your keys. On your doorstep, you pull Jay into a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh as he pats you on the back and says, “You probably could.” 

Pathetically, Heeseung hopes you’ll hug him too. With no hesitation, you do, arms locking around his neck, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you whisper, lingering by his ear before burying your face in the base of his neck. 

Heeseung holds his breath, counting to twelve before you lean away from him, your arms in place as you look up into his eyes. “I’m always going to look out for you,” he manages to say. He can already hear Jay teasing him about it when they’re alone, but the smile on your face is worth it. 

In your doorway, you wave goodbye and they wait outside until they hear your lock clicking before heading home, where Jay doesn’t tease Heeseung at all. 

Turns out, getting home at 3 a.m. when he has a class at 10 o’clock doesn’t fit in amongst any of his better ideas, but still, he gets out of bed and gets ready, heeding Jay’s advice and scheduling a hair appointment on his way to class. 

As soon as he sits down, he gets a text from Jay: thinking of getting smth pierced later, come with? 

Heeseung: what is smth.

Jay: cartilage probs

Heeseung: im getting my roots done at 5

Jay: okayyyyyyy good shit man !!! tmrw? 

Heeseung: 👍👍👍

It shouldn’t surprise Heeseung that you look good, but the sight of you walking through the door in your zip-up hoodie and jeans almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re holding your notebook to your chest, stopping in the middle of the stairs and sighing when the white strap of your tote bag slips from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You apologise to the people behind you before rushing up the stairs to Heeseung’s row, putting your things down and slumping into the seat beside him. The room suddenly feels warmer when you take off your hoodie and next to you and your bare arms, his heart starts to race.

“Do you have, like, an interview or something?” you ask, doodling in the margin of your notebook, filling the space with pretty butterflies that make his heart race.

Heeseung, who hasn’t looked for a job in two years, panics. “No?” 

“Oh.” You nod slowly, looking away from him. “A date? Maybe?” There’s something in your voice that makes him want to say yes and see your reaction, but the look on your face makes his stomach turn. 

“No, ne—just no.” 

“You can tell me if you’re going on a date.”

“Why would I go on a date?” 

You shrug, gesturing to his outfit. Heeseung looks down at himself and the cream-coloured cardigan he’s wearing. “You just look nice, that’s all,” you mumble after a while. Suddenly, Jay’s Prada loafers squeezing his toes doesn’t seem so bad and Heeseung sits through the whole lecture with a smile on his face. 

The leaves yellowed on October first, and unfortunately for Heeseung, the last two weeks didn’t play out how he hoped they would. Of course, he knew that you flinging your arms around him and confessing your love was probably a far stretch. But this is torture. You only talk to him when the rest of the boys are around, and even then, you only say things like, what time does class start? and do you have a pen I can borrow? 

His nice outfits don’t let up, but his hair is so long these days that you don’t take any notice of the throbbing hole through his cartilage that Jay somehow convinced him to get. Or so Heeseung tells himself because his ears stick out as far as his shoulders. 

Today marks the first time he’s sat in the library during the day for more than ten minutes, and it’s surprisingly busy. Most of his library trips take place in the early hours of the morning, playing his way through the Papa’s Gameria franchise on the computer next to Jake, who spends several minutes at a time staring at his fancy engineering software before clicking the mouse and staring again. So seeing the steady flow of students come in and out, setting up camp at their tables with headphones and thick binders, while groups of friends whisper amongst themselves, leaning back in their seats and gasping every now and then feels like a culture shock.

There’s about an hour until your class finishes, and he’s been sitting here for two hours already since his Music and Identity class ended, wondering if he’s making a mistake by waiting for you. Especially because he knows you’re not expecting him to. He’s at a table right by the library’s entrance, so you’ll see him on the way out and it can feel like a chance encounter. Uncharacteristically, he’s used this time quite wisely, deciding to go through the reading he was given on the role music plays in maintaining cultural identity among diaspora communities and making notes in the margins of his handout until your class is done. 

Impatience starts to settle in after thirty minutes so he texts you to see to ask if your class is over yet. Immediately, your response lights up his screen: yeah about an hour ago but i stayed home lmao what’s up :) 

Staring down at the message, he sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to come up with something to say. This goes on for a while until he realises what he’s doing and his heart clenches. How did you go from spending every waking moment texting each other to clutching at straws for a valid reason to talk? 

At the very least, the smiley face you sent is doing wonders for his declining mood. 

Heeseung settles on, “i just left office hours and wanted to know if anyone was still around haha,” before hiding his face with his hands. 

oh nooooooo :( sorry dude, you reply. how’d it go? 

In the six years he spent by your side, he’s never known you to use the word dude—at least not with him. By the looks of things, it seems like your time away was spent studying Jake’s texting patterns or a secret other thing that makes his head hurt when he thinks about it. 

Sighing, Heeseung types back: good! had a couple questions after sem but it went well! 

You react to the message with a heart but don’t reply. He doesn’t have enough time to think about what that might mean because Mark approaches the table, clutching the straps of his backpack with a grin on his face that makes Heeseung feel at ease, like a wide-eyed first year riddled with anxious excitement. 

“You look good, man. You going somewhere nice later?” Mark asks, dapping him up. 

Heeseung shakes his head. “Just home.” 

“Nice.” Mark nods, gasping after a beat. “Did you hear? I made captain!” 

“That’s major, dude, congrats! I knew you would.” If anyone deserves to be team captain, it’s Mark Lee. He was captain of the basketball team in high school and vetoed his spot to Heeseung when he graduated. Two years later, when Heeseung came to college, Mark had been enthusiastic about him joining the team too. 

“I’ve been thinking that my first official act as captain should be getting you back on the team?” Mark’s voice tips up at the end, his brows raising hopefully. 

The last time Heeseung was on the home court, he cried with the ball in his hands because he overheard someone in the crowd saying they didn’t think he could make the shot—they were right. He laughs, shaking his head. “Way too much pressure in uni basketball. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“I’m not giving up on you,” Mark says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I hear your birthday’s coming up, can I host?” 

“Host what?” 

Mark’s hands clap soundlessly as he laughs. “A party, obviously! Twenty’s a big one! I’ll text you the deets, alright?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like Heeseung has a choice because Mark’s already walking away, still laughing to himself.

In Heeseung’s eyes, there’s nothing better than knocking back (more than) a few bottles of soju with friends and singing your heart out in the four walls of a karaoke room. Worried about killing the mood, he enjoys from a distance, staying glued to the booth, ad-libbing for the boys and polishing off their drinks as discreetly as he can. The table is adorned with a collection of empty bottles and buckets of feasted-upon fried chicken that still envelop the room in a mouth-watering aroma, while a green strobe light pierces the air as Jake and Sunghoon wrap up their cover of Party Rock Anthem. 

By the time Jay manages to convince Heeseung to sing something, he’s four bottles in and searching for the most heart-wrenching ballad he can find. Sofa by Crush has always been his favourite karaoke song. Even when it first came out and he was in a happy relationship; even at home, alone in the kitchen, using a broom handle as a makeshift microphone, singing until his voice went hoarse and tears stained his shirt. 

It feels like fate when the song’s title flashes across the screen in big bold letters and he knows there’s no real way to ignore destiny, so he chooses it and stands up from his seat. Weighed down by alcohol and an aching heart, he stumbles to the front of the room to stand with his back to his friends. Clutching the mic until his knuckles turn white, he takes a deep breath, letting the intro wash over him before singing. He gets through the first half of the song before practically caving in on himself, too moved by the lyrics to stay on two feet. To Heeseung’s credit, he’s always had a beautiful voice, so he’s not exactly tanking in that respect, but if he was even a tiny bit more cognisant, he’d scrape himself up from his knees and finish the rest of the song in the same light-hearted way everyone else had.

The lights shift through red and blue, casting a pretty glow over the dim space and streaking purples and pinks all over the walls—aesthetically, the room is as moody as Heeseung feels. If he had eyes on the back of his head (or picked himself and his dignity from the floor) he might notice the way everyone else in the room is struck by his sadness, with all three boys sitting in solemn silence as a drunk Jay records the whole thing. 

Tired of watching his friend fall apart, Sunghoon gets up from his seat, muttering dick at Jay for filming before taking the phone from his hands and cutting off the recording. He lifts Heeseung at the armpits like a baby and takes the mic. Clearing his throat, Sunghoon half-heartedly finishes the rest of the song while Heeseung cries into his shoulder. Their duet scores them 63 points and Jay spends the next few minutes texting. Heeseung appreciates Sunghoon’s efforts, crying more as his emotions oscillate from love for his friend to yearning for you, all while Jake attempts to lift the mood with a genuinely moving performance of Highway to Hell. From the way he’s air-drumming and bouncing his leg to the song, anyone could tell that Sunghoon is desperate to join in, but holding back for Heeseung’s sake. With a hiccup, Heeseung wipes his tears with his sleeve and throws himself out to the front, accompanying Jake with an air guitar. It’s only during the start of the second verse that Jay and Sunghoon join in, and a full-fledged rock band moment falls upon them as if gifted from heaven. 

After another hour of singing and drinking, Heeseung and Jay race up their apartment building’s stairs. Panting heavily, with his heart beating in his throat, Heeseung’s knees ache when he reaches the top — though caught up in catching his breath and the sight of you sleeping against the doorframe — he can’t even celebrate his win. 

“Huh,” Jay says when he joins him. “How’d she get here?” 

Heeseung can only shrug in response. 

Suddenly self-conscious in your presence, he stands up straighter, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Jay moves from behind him, approaching you, but Heeseung’s too hung up on the way you hold your jacket tight around your body to do the same. He wants to though—wants to help you out, pick you up and hold you in his arms, kiss your forehead and lovingly scold you for staying out in the cold. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well. 

Instead, he remains glued to the spot, watching Jay wake you up, only mobilising when you’re on your feet, stretching your arms above your head. To you, the sliver of skin peeking out where your shirt ends and your jeans begin is a fleeting detail, lost entirely under a veil of just-risen drowsiness. Yet, to Heeseung, it’s everything. It’s enough to make him want to beg you for a second chance right then and there. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well either. 

You’re talking with Jay and there’s a crease in your brow when Heeseung reaches you. Your voices were too quiet to make sense of with the distance but now he hears you loud and clear. “You told me almost two hours ago that you guys were leaving soon,” you sigh, rubbing your neck. 

Jay snorts, missing the keyhole a few times before catching it. “Should’ve just joined in, stupid.” 

“It was boy’s night and you made it very clear that I don’t count. And when I asked what bar you guys were at, you just said doesn’t matter, leaving in ten, and, by the way, none of it was spelt correctly. It felt like you were using code.” 

“Caesar Cipher, perhaps?” 

“Pig Latin, more like,” you scoff, leaning against the wall. 

A mischievous grin spreads over Jay’s lips and Heeseung already hates whatever he’s about to say. “Ixnay on the Eeseunghay.” Yeah, Heeseung hates it. He glances between the two of you, picking up on the smile you can’t hide as you roll your eyes. 

Your gaze finds Heeseung’s and your lips curl into a frown as you look back at Jay. “Otgay ityay.” You nod firmly. 

From context — and memories of numerous private conversations the two of you used to have in his presence — he figures it’s Pig Latin, a linguistic puzzle more intricate than any the English language has ever thrown at him. 

After a beat, you nod towards the open door. “Get inside.”

You follow the boys in and lock the door when Jay hands you his keys. He quickly heads to his room, leaving Heeseung shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the living room, staring at you. Save for Jay’s bedroom, all of the lights are off. The only light shines through the open blinds, a vivid orange beam coming from a streetlight outside, casting a harsh shadow over the room. The terminator line is stark—a clear partition between Heeseung, who’s standing in the shade, and you, who stands in front of the window, backlit by the warm light. You’re glowing. Or, at least, the lighting makes it look like you are—outlining all your edges in soft orange. 

Absently, he plays with the zipper on his jacket—unsure of what’s going on or why you’re here at all. It takes a while, but the words finally escape him. “What are you doing here?” Simultaneously, you ask if he’s okay. 

Even in the dark, your smile warms the room. For you and Heeseung, speaking in unison like that isn’t anything new, so it’s not enough to rouse a reaction from him—nonetheless, he smiles too. Whether by way of drunk optimism or his own sudden acceptance, Heeseung’s starting to feel as though maybe just being by your side, making you smile, might be enough for him. 

“Jay texted me, and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.” 

“What did he say?” 

“That you were having a hard time.”

Heeseung nods slowly. 

“Actually, he said—” You pause to check your phone. “—Jay said, worried but hyung he is m let down. I think he meant meltdown?” 

“Hyung,” Heeseung repeats, tilting his head as if the word is foreign to him. A crease runs along his brow, Jay is way drunker than he let on.

“Huh,” you utter, tilting your head too. “I actually thought m let down would’ve gotten a bigger reaction out of you.” 

A moment passes, and then another before Heeseung says, “You can sit if you want. I don’t know if you’re going to stay long or anything, but you can always sit here.”

You smile and he can hear it, watching you take your coat off before sitting on the couch. It’s a bit of a stretch from where you’re sitting but you reach over to turn on the lamp in the corner and Heeseung sits too, as far away as he can. You look comfortable, like you’re supposed to be there and the thought warms his heart.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m happy you did but you didn’t have to,” he says after too long. 

A frown tugs your lips down. “Of course, I did. I care about you, Heeseung, you know that.” 

Now doesn’t seem like the time to argue, so he makes a mental note to mull over this later. “I know,” he lies, his voice nothing more than a mumble as he nods. 

“Did you guys have fun?” 

Deciding it best to pretend his Crush cover went well, he nods again, smiling as he thinks about the nice parts of boys’ night. With your encouragement, he talks happily for a while about their song choices and the way they all came together in the end. “I feel like we’d get on pretty well as an AC/DC tribute act.” 

“Do you know what room you were in? There’s got to be a way for me to pull the security footage and see for myself.” 

“I actually think Jimin works there, she might be able to hook you up.”

“Jimin?” you repeat in a different tone. The shift is so subtle that Heeseung barely picks up on it, never mind placing it or knowing what it might mean. If he were any more delusional, he might think you’re jealous, but the curiosity in your voice tells him to get out of his head. 

“Yeah, this one girl in the year above,” he explains. “She transferred to humanities so we had a couple classes together last term.” 

“Oh, cool.” 

He really can’t work out your tone and it’s disconcerting. Maybe he should talk about Jimin some more. “She’s like mega smart, and really nice too. She was actually at the club that night! The girl I was talking to when you and Jay went to get drinks,” he says, suddenly remembering. 

“Good for Jimin.” 

“I think you’d like her.” He smiles. “You know, if you’re looking for friends or anything.” 

You only nod, pressing your lips together and leaving Heeseung at a complete loss for words. He watches you chewing on the inside of your cheek, playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve always loved your voice,” you mumble, looking down.

“I know.. You used to beg me to stay up on the phone singing for you.” Heeseung presses his lips together after speaking, mentally locking them and throwing away the key.

You nod with a smile on your face that makes his stomach flutter. “You’re, like, the best guy ever.” 

That makes sense. That Heeseung could be like, the best guy ever but not quite good enough to stay with. He mulls over your words and contemplates setting himself on fire. Standing up from the couch, he goes over to his room. From the doorway, he says, “You can share Jay’s bed, it’s too late to go home by yourself.” 

Heeseung closes his door with plans to stay inside the whole night, but only manages an hour before he gets sick of the stale taste in his mouth. He leaves quietly, and in the light from outside, he sees you sleeping on the sofa with your hands tucked under your head. His heart sinks. Without much thought, he carries you to his room, tucks you in and runs away before doing something stupid like kissing your head to go and brush his teeth. Unlike you, he’s not afraid to wake Jay up, pushing the boy over to make room for himself on his bed, where he lays awake for hours trying to figure out what went wrong with you two until his head starts to hurt. 

In the morning, Heeseung doesn’t see you before you leave, but he spends the better part of an hour with his ear pressed against Jay’s door, eavesdropping on your conversation. If you weren’t talking about him he might feel guilty about this, but you are, so.. 

“I just feel bad, you know? I don’t know how to fit into his life and I feel like I’m only making things harder for him by being here,” you say. “Harder for everyone.”

Heeseung grips the doorframe until his knuckles turn white. He’s spent too much time thinking about how to be your friend without actually trying to be, too caught up in his own feelings to see how he’s affecting everyone else. The corners of his lips droop at the thought. 

“We’re happy to have you back, Heeseung too. He’s just.. hurting, you know? I’m not sure if you heard but he kind of got blindsided and dumped by his high school girlfriend,” Jay says. 

You laugh drily and he pictures the way you roll your eyes. “Hey, uh, random Q, what do you know about Jimin?” 

Jay’s quiet for a bit. Or he’s whispering. Heeseung presses his entire body to the door as if it’ll help. “Yoo Jimin?” he asks. 

“Probably. Heeseung’s friend.” 

“She’s cool,” he answers simply. “You’d like her.” 

“So I keep hearing. What’s going on with them?” 

“Nothing really. They met at some party last year, both pretty drunk, and somehow ended up in a random bedroom where she tried hooking up with him.” Jay’s words strike Heeseung like a jolt, his heart pounds and his stomach twists. It takes a lot for him and the knot in his stomach not to burst out of the room and clear things up. The main thing stopping him though, is that Jay’s telling the truth. “But he misread the whole thing and ended up detailing your entire relationship for two hours,” Jay adds after a while. 

“And now?” 

“Why do you care?” Jay’s tone is teasing but the question makes Heeseung spiral. 

His mouth starts to dry up at the thought of you admitting that you don’t care, that you’re over him and just being nosy. Panic swells in his chest and he jumps away from the door as if it’s red hot, scrambling back under the covers of Jay’s bed and falling back asleep. 

In the following two weeks, Heeseung finds himself mastering the art of avoidance. He fills his evenings with pick-up basketball games with Mark on random courts in the neighbourhood and rushes out of class before you have the chance to talk to him. Playing with Mark is fun, but he can’t ignore the regret festering within him, a persistent thorn in his side. Fortunately for him, Jay, whether knowingly or not, presents him with a potential turning point. He’s invited you and the boys over for pres before his party, instructing Heeseung to get his shit together and acknowledge your existence. 

On the night before his birthday, the apartment echoes with your voice, yelling at Jake to get off the floor. Sunghoon’s cackles only get louder, filling the space. Behind his closed bedroom door, Heeseung catches a panicked glance of himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his bangs. He lingers in his room as long as he can, trying to put off seeing you.

Jay opens the door without knocking, a lazy grin on his face and a slight sway in his stance that tells Heeseung he’s drunk already. “What are you doing? We’re waiting.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. 

Rolling his eyes, Jay lets out a tired groan. It’s an unspoken scolding that Heeseung heeds immediately, following him into the kitchen, where Jake is messily pouring shots on the counter. He doesn’t see you anywhere, but Sunghoon distracts him, cheering and wrapping his arms around him—also drunk already. “She’s in Jay’s room, Yunjin called,” he says. “Oh, yeah, happy almost birthday, man. Twenty is crazy.” 

By the looks of things, Sunghoon’s on a mission to kill Heeseung. Twenty shots for his twentieth birthday doesn’t sound like as much fun as Sunghoon thinks it does, it sounds like a punishment or a death sentence. Heeseung — put off by the smell of vodka — manages four shots before tapping out, deciding that he’d quite like to remember tonight and wake up on his birthday without a headache.

Heeseung’s eyes widen when you show up in the doorway, a confusing sense of surprise washing over him. It’s not like he didn’t know you were here; he heard you earlier. It’s just that your sudden presence catches him off guard. His heart skips a beat and a sudden rush of nerves courses through him. He takes in your appearance, his eyes tracing every inch of you before meeting your eyes. As you run your hand through your hair, you smile at him, so pretty and genuine that he can’t help grinning back.

Your dress is beautiful, of course—black satin, he thinks, with pretty pink ribbons tied into perfect bows on the top, and you’re the only girl Heeseung’s ever wanted in his life. 

A whispered whoa falls from his lips, which seem to rest in an ‘o’ as he stares at you. You’re looking away from him now, focused on the tequila puddle Jake’s left on the counter, grabbing some paper towels to mop it up. Jay snorts beside him, nudging his ribs hard. “You’ll catch flies, Heeseung. Come on—decorum, please.” 

Heeseung clears his throat, running a hand through his hair and wiping his palms on his pants, but he doesn’t make any moves towards you. 

“Do something,” Jay mumbles. 

He nods in response, repeating do something, over and over in his head until he finally approaches you. “Hey,” he says, breathless. His heart hammers in his chest when you look up at him, beaming. 

“Heeseung,” you say. “Happy almost birthday. How’re you feeling?” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you wrap your arms around his waist, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arms fall around your shoulders, holding you close. It’s perfect. Some combination of your warm scent and alcohol causes the butterflies in his stomach to rage, fluttering so frantically he thinks he might be sick. 

“Insane,” he admits. 

He can hear you laughing, feeling your chuckles against his chest. “You know, what?” You lean away from him, arms still around his waist, eyes locked on his and a soft smile on your lips. “Me too.” 

An odd weakness settles in his knees, a dizzying flutter alighting his entire body as he nods. Over his shoulder, Sunghoon calls for him, chanting, “More shots! More shots!” For a while, Heeseung ignores him, watching you until he feels his ears heating up at the top. 

“I think I have to go,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your lips. They curl up into a crooked grin, and you use a hand to pat his chest. 

“Good luck.” 

Heeseung takes a deep breath when you let go of him, taking shaky steps towards his friend, who’s grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Sorry to interrupt, I think you could use the help though,” Sunghoon says, holding out a shot glass to him.

He shakes his head at the shot, taking it from Sunghoon’s hand and placing it down on the table. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon only shrugs, taking the drink himself, knocking it back with no visible reaction, and Heeseung thinks he must be a monster. “I really think you could fix things tonight,” he says afterwards, pouring another. 

Instead of taking this in stride, Heeseung decides to pretend you don’t exist after hugging you—it’ll be easier that way. To him, this looks like staring at you in your pretty dress and snapping his neck in the opposite direction when you look over at him. 

To appease Sunghoon, he takes another three shots and has to sit down, overwhelmed by the way his cheeks burn and how the kitchen starts to tilt around him. His mouth is oddly dry; a sensation that has nothing to do with you or the way you look in your dress. This time when you catch him staring, he smiles. 

Even in his beyond-tipsy state, Jay manages to ensure everyone leaves the flat before requesting an Uber. Heeseung finds himself sitting cross-legged on the pavement, for some reason, scrolling through his camera roll. 

“Car’s here, get up,” Jay eventually mumbles, nudging his back with the tip of his shoe.

With some stumbling, Heeseung stands up, dusts off his pants and heads to the car. Jay holds the door open for you, and as you slide across the backseat, your dress rides up. Heeseung screws his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, like resetting an etch-a-sketch. Jay’s hand claps his back as he instructs him to get in, which he does. Hesitantly, he slides into the middle seat, glancing to his right to see who’ll be joining you. 

“You’ll thank me later!” Jay calls out, closing the door. 

Before he even has a chance to shift over, your hand lands firmly on his knee, silently urging him to stay put. With a pounding heart, he complies. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh as he fastens his seatbelt, and the feeling of your soft skin against his leaves him breathless. He feels afloat when the car starts moving. A few minutes pass before you take your hand from his knee, mumbling an apology as you place it on your lap, idly playing with your fingers.

Mark lives about twenty minutes away, leaving Heeseung with something close to sixteen minutes to think of something to say. R&B from the early 2000s rumbles through the speakers in the car, vaguely explicit lyrics alluding to something he’s craving fill the space around the two of you, wrapped up in your warm vanilla scent and the fresh peppermint gum you’re chewing. To put it simply, there’s not a coherent thought in his head he could express that wouldn’t get him into trouble. 

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” you say after a while. “Well, I did know, but you know.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly because he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

A beat passes before you speak again. “How was your day?” 

The first thing on his mind is what falls from his lips. “You look beautiful,” Heeseung blurts out, trying to ignore the tinge of anxiety that’s irritating his stomach. “Your dress is.. It’s really pretty,” he adds, feeling as though he won’t lose anything by putting everything on the table. 

“Thanks.” You smile. “You look beautiful too.” 

Heeseung’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at his outfit in the dark. If Jay hadn’t interfered, he’d be wearing a hoodie and sweatpants right now, but he’s happy with the simple striped shirt and loose pants Jay suggested, even if it leaves him a little chilly. “It’s, uh, it’s actually my birthday party tonight,” he supplies uselessly.

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “I kind of just meant in general.” 

“Me too.” 

The car falls silent as he lets his head fall into the space between the headrests and closes his eyes. When you reach Mark’s house, he opens them and finds you staring with a smile. “I thought you fell asleep,” you say.

He shakes his head, sliding over the backseat and opening the door. He didn’t expect you to leave from the same side as him, but he likes the heat on his cheeks as he closes the door for you. Wordlessly, the two of you go through the gate and join Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon who are sitting cross-legged on the porch, giggling around a shared joint. He has no idea how they arrived before you did. 

Heeseung isn’t sure how he loses you guys but it’s not until his third round of beer pong that he actually notices. Lee Jeno and his red eyes are a poor shot, barely managing to throw the ball without hitting Heeseung’s chest or dropping it before he gets to aim. He almost feels bad for the guy when he sinks another one of his cups, watching Jeno frown before pinching his nostrils shut and taking a big gulp. 

Jay’s sudden presence startles him, though he’s quick to grin at his best friend. The smile isn’t returned. Instead, he leans up to Heeseung’s ear, yelling that YN’s crying before nudging his way out of the room. His heart sinks and he offers no explanation to Jeno, following Jay upstairs and into the bathroom where he finds you, sitting on the floor, crying into Sunghoon’s shirt while Jake watches with a frown, picking at his nails. 

“What happened?” 

Jake talks with a hushed tone while Sunghoon helps you up before leaving. “She didn’t say anything, she just asked us to go to the bathroom with her and started crying.” He opens his mouth to continue but Jay yanks him out of the room, closing the door. 

“I’m not, like, upset or anything,” you say after a while, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to ruin tonight for you so I told Jake not to say anything, but obviously, he didn’t listen.” 

“Jake did the right thing telling Jay, none of us want to see you upset.” 

“I’m not upset.” You hit Heeseung’s chest with a weak fist, crying more. “Why does everyone think I’m upset?”

“It might be the tears,” he offers, feeling good about making you smile. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Are you using a new liner? Mascara? You still look good.” 

You take a look in the mirror, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. “Yeah, I discovered waterproof makeup in first year.” 

“Is it harder to take off?” 

“Definitely, but it’s worth it, I think, for nights like this.” 

“Yeah, right.” Heeseung nods, watching you carefully as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. It’s like being in high school, seeing you like this. Most of the parties you went to were spent in the bathroom, with Heeseung holding your hair back and trying to calm you down after throwing up. He misses all of it except the vomit. “Are you okay?” 

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you nod but look down at your hands when he says your name. “It’s just a little harder being back than I thought it would be.” 

“Oh.” 

You sigh, playing with your hair as you sit down next to him. “Obviously it’s great seeing the guys all the time, seeing you all the time, but everything’s fucked and we act like strangers and it’s killing me not being able to just..” you trail off. Heeseung is clearly drunker than he feels because it looks like your eyes are stuck on his lips. After a beat you slide away from him, moving until your back hits the wall. A mixture of frustration and something else colours your face. “I just don’t like treating you like a stranger and I don’t know how to fix it.” Before he has a chance to think or to say anything you ask him for the time. 

“It’s 12:23.” 

“Happy birthday!” you say, smiling. “Am I the first to say it?” 

“You’re always first.” Even last year, you sent a text at midnight, so Heeseung’s not sure why there’s a surprised look in your eyes or why it’s making him want to kiss you more than usual. “You don’t have to treat me like a stranger if you don’t want to,” he says carefully, trying to get you both back on track. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.” 

His voice is soft when he says, “Honestly, neither do I.” 

“I wish I never left.” 

“Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” Despite the small smile on his face, he’s still trying to understand what reason you had. 

An exhaled laugh comes from your nose and you nudge him. “Were you secretly trying to get rid of me?” 

“You caught me,” he sighs, holding out his hands in defeat. “I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to fake my death, but you saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.” 

Both of you share a genuine laugh and the tension in the air eases up a bit. Heeseung’s eyes meet yours; a brief moment of silence follows. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving. I really wish things could’ve been different.” 

It can’t be your intention to hurt him by saying that, but you do, leaving Heeseung feeling the full spectrum of his emotions. A pang of hurt, of longing—hurting himself even more as he thinks about the could-have-beens. He purses his lips, looking down at his shoes. “Me too.” Sick of the tension, of his feelings, he glances at you, sitting up a little straighter. “How about we start fresh? Clean slate?” 

“Clean slate?” you echo, raising an inquisitive brow. 

Heeseung nods, determined, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Heeseung.”

“YN,” you chuckle, taking his hand in yours. 

He holds onto it, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look just like my ex.” 

Your eyes widen, amused. “Wow, Hee, you always know just what to say.” 

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, but Heeseung’s just glad you’re not crying anymore. He feels lighter now, hopefully you do too. Standing up, he holds out a hand to help you get to your feet which you take, smiling up at him as you straighten out your dress. 

“You know,” he says, clapping his hands together. “For a second there, I thought I’d need a manual on how to talk to you again, but I think we’re doing pretty well.” 

Heeseung feels pleased with himself when you laugh, rolling your eyes and nudging his chest with your hand. “Shut up,” you say, light and playful. 

“Are you ready to get back to the guys?” 

You smile at him, nodding before quickly turning back to the mirror. “Do I look okay?” 

It doesn’t make sense to Heeseung that a girl as beautiful as you could ever look just okay. Even with the slight swell to your glassy eyes, you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. But he can’t say that. So instead, he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth, tilting his head a bit and raising his hand in a horizontal gesture, his fingers wobbling as if balancing an imaginary scale. A  non-committal sound escapes him, a soft eh before he laughs at the way your jaw drops. 

You punch his arm. “Heeseung!” 

“Come on, you know you look great,” he mumbles, looking away to hide the flush in his cheeks. The sound of your lips spreading into a smile makes his stomach flutter as he opens the door to find Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon sitting cross-legged in the hall in front of it.

“Birthday boy!” Jay yells, springing to his feet and flinging his arms around Heeseung. 

“And YN!” Jake adds from his seat. 

Heeseung hears you saying thanks to Jake before sitting next to him. 

“So, did you two kiss and make up or what?” Jay’s attempt at whispering is futile and somehow Heeseung’s cheeks burn even more as he frees himself from his friend’s hold. 

“Kiss, no. Make up, yes.” 

“Playing the long game, I like it.” Jay grins, patting Heeseung on the back. “Sit down, let’s talk.” 

Heeseung sits in the space next to Sunghoon, holding his legs awkwardly to his chest. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening and he feels like he’s not drunk enough anymore to fully relax into it, until you leave Jake’s side, crawling over to Heeseung and resting your head on his shoulder. In the dim hall, the boys shuffle around but it’s too dark to see what they’re doing—not that he cares much at this point, letting his head rest on top of yours and closing his eyes. It almost sounds quite pretty when they start singing Happy Birthday, and Jake has a tiny lunchbox cake in his hands when Heeseung opens his eyes. Its purple-frosted TWENT-HEE is disrupted by a half-smoked joint stuck in the centre which the flash on Sunghoon’s phone provides a makeshift flame for. 

“Make a wish!” you squeal, clapping your hands. 

It takes three attempts for Heeseung and Sunghoon to coordinate the timing between his exhale and Sunghoon turning the flash off, but the candle is blown out, and, right now. Heeseung has everything he’s ever wanted. 

Almost. 

Heeseung wakes up pressed against the wall with an arm wrapped around his waist. An embarrassing surge of excitement courses through him as he thinks about your conversation and puts his hand over yours. What he’s met with is less of the softness he’d anticipated, and more of the coarse skin and defined knuckles he’s come to recognise as Jake’s hand under the duvet. It only takes a look over his shoulder to make sense of why Heeseung’s nose is grazing his bedroom wall. Behind him is Jake, who’s being spooned by you, and behind you is Sunghoon who’s clinging onto your frame for dear life, even in his slumber. Evidently, Jay’s had a successful night and with his unwavering loyalty to Yunjin, it’s not hard to figure out what happened in the room across the hall.

With his eyes pressed shut, desperate to clutch some more sleep, he hears you mumbling. “Park Sunghoon, if you don’t wake up and let go of me, I’ll kill you,” you say with a tone that frightens Heeseung and sets off a flutter in his stomach. The yelp and thud that follow seem to wake Jake up and he crawls over you to get out of bed, stretching his arms out above his head and making no effort to step over Sunghoon on the floor. You roll over in the bed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist and pressing yourself into his side. “Happy birthday,” you say through a yawn before getting up. 

He manages to mumble a thanks, butterflies running wild in his stomach and a flush creeping up his neck as he watches you leave the room, eyes stuck on the way your hips move in last night’s dress. He gets out of bed, sighing, untucking his shirt to cover the tightness in his pants before joining his friends in the kitchen. 

Hungry but unmoving, you and the boys occupy the three seats at the small kitchen table, harping on about the different things as Jake whines, begging you to keep it down. 

Heeseung’s first intense emotion as a sober twenty-year-old is betrayal. There are used dishes lying in the sink, plates, mugs, and pans — two of each — staring up at him, wafting the scent of a cooked breakfast, with no leftovers in sight, up to his nostrils. He sighs, wondering if it’s his responsibility as host, and eldest friend, to make more food for everyone, or if, as the birthday boy, he should sit around and wait for someone else to take action. Settling on the latter, he sights up on the countertop, sure to keep his back to you so he doesn’t have to see the low neckline of your dress.

Finally, Jay comes back, whistling an unfamiliar tune and twirling his keys on his finger when he reaches the kitchen. “Hello,” he says simply, leaning against the doorjamb as if he hadn’t single-handedly ruined Heeseung’s birthday. 

Sunghoon rubs his eyes, looking in Jay’s direction. “So now, if I want a nice breakfast after a night out, do I have to fuck you?” 

Jay’s cheeks flush as he looks at his feet. “I mean, I planned to cook for you guys when I got back.” 

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds,” he scoffs, slumping in his chair. 

“I do, Jay. Cook for me,” you say, gesturing toward Jay’s general direction making grabby hands at him.

With a gentle smile, he crosses the room and pats your head. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything,” you mumble into his shirt. 

Jay nods, going over to the fridge. He stands in front of it with his hands on his hips, completely still for almost two minutes and Heeseung only approaches him because he’s worried about the outside heat getting on all the food through the open door. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, uttering his first sentence of the morning. 

Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he leans towards Heeseung. “I, uh, finished the eggs, milk, and bacon.” A nervous look covers his face before he continues. “And we ate your Hello Kitty pancake mix,” he adds, mumbling like he doesn’t want to be heard. 

Unfortunately, he is, and Heeseung’s mortified. “My Hello Kitty pancake mix?!” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “YN got that for me, we were supposed to make those together.” His voice is as whiny as his volume will allow, and he struggles not to stomp his feet. 

“Oh, you were? How’d that work out?” Jay’s words are cutting. 

“Okay, ouch.” 

“Dude, it was expiring next week. Plus, Yunjin just looked so cute when she saw it—I had to.” 

“What if I wanted to make them this week?” 

“You’ve had the box for two years,” Jay reminds him. “Think of Yunjin.” 

With a sigh, Heeseung actually does think of Yunjin. Although the girl he envisions is different from the one Jay wants him to imagine. 

They met on the first day of university. She had a guitar strapped to her back, and a huge amp in hand when she approached him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness or excitement; Heeseung couldn’t tell which. Immediately, she extended her free hand for him to shake. “Yunjin,” she said. 

“No.” He shook his head while pointing at himself. “Heeseung.” From the way she laughed at his stupid joke, he knew she was the next girl Jay would fall for.

Jay had a habit of falling in love with the first girl to do something nice for him on any given day. And then the next girl. But after hearing Yunjin talk about her gap year, spent learning guitar seriously, Heeseung had a feeling things were going to change for his friend. He was right. 

The memory, along with the satisfaction of having figured those two out from the beginning, brings a warm smile to Heeseung’s face. “You owe me.” 

“Yeah, whatever. I owe you,” Jay scoffs, though the slight furrow in his brow suggests genuine remorse. “Just so you know, they weren’t special or anything.. just pancakes, you know?” 

Heeseung chuckles despite himself. “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

“Maybe a little,” Jay shrugs. To his credit, it works. 

At least until Heeseung’s stomach grumbles, a noisy reminder of why they’re standing there in the first place. He also learns the hard way that the fridge starts to beep when you leave it open too long. Jay laughs through his nose, closing the door with his elbow. 

“What are we eating?” 

Jay seems to think about this for a minute, tilting his head and suggesting McDonald’s. 

If asked, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have said he pictured spending the morning of his twentieth birthday squished between Jake and Sunghoon in a sticky booth, but he’s here and can’t find anything to complain about as he inhales his breakfast. Too caught up in the way his hoodie drapes over you, he listens half-heartedly as you all quiz Jay on his night. It seems like he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing but the dreamy grin on his face is hard to miss. 

Eventually, you all pile back into Jay’s car, with Heeseung sitting shotgun as a birthday gift, that he doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he falls asleep as soon as the car starts moving. He sinks into the front seat, a contented smile playing on his lips as the warmth of the sun and his full stomach lull him into a peaceful nap. 

At home, he thanks Jay before crawling into bed where he replies to messages before letting his head fall into the pillow.

His eyes don’t even close all the way before you come into the room. “Can I nap in here?” 

Heeseung nods, watching you get comfortable under his duvet. In a matter of seconds, you’re just an arm’s reach away, softly snoring with your back to him. Meanwhile, he spends four hours laying completely still, trying to convince himself that the heat radiating from your sleeping form doesn’t make him miss you more. 

At around 3 p.m. when everyone wakes up, you and the boys hurry away for various mumbled reasons, leaving Heeseung home alone, trying to practise his surprised face for whenever you’re all back with cake and a gift. 

You don’t return until Heeseung’s hair has started to dry after his shower, but you waste no time shuffling around the kitchen before coming back with a pretty cake and real candles with a real flame, singing for him again. With the way Jake’s rushing him, Heeseung can’t come up with a wish in time, so blows out the candles with a clear mind. 

“Woo!” Jake cheers, clapping around a wrapped present that he immediately thrusts into Heeseung’s hands. “Open it!” 

He barely gets to peel the first piece of tape before he jumps off the couch and kneels down next to him. “It’s LEGO! The Infinity Gauntlet, you know? And the best part is..” Jake pauses dramatically. “You get to put it together with your best friend, Jake! Right now!” His excitement is endearing even though he’s ruined the surprise. “The others can help too, I guess.” 

You frown at him. “I paid for the kind lady at the LEGO store to gift wrap that for us.” 

“Yeah, and she did great!” Jake grins. “Can I help you open it? Please, Heeseung, please. You’re taking forever.”

With a smile, Heeseung hands the box to Jake, letting him open it carefully before Sunghoon joins in, tearing the paper to shreds all while Jay records the whole moment like a proud father. All five of you are sitting on the floor now, covered in wrapping paper while Jake holds the LEGO set up like it’s his, blinking hard at the camera with a smile on his face, and it’s Heeseung’s favourite birthday yet. 

my girl: who wants to take me on a date?

Heeseung knows he should probably change your contact name but the notification still makes his cheeks burn in a way he thinks he likes.

jake: heeseung probably 

jake: idk tho

my girl: ok heeseung come to the museum with me for class

sunghoon: next time open with the museum thing holy shit.. i almost fucking volunteered

heeseung: when?

my girl: i would have rejected you hoon

my girl: whenever ur free !

Heeseung’s schedule always has a way of clearing up when it comes to you, and he skips pick-up with Mark to pick you up at your door that evening. You answer right when Heeseung knocks, sliding some rings onto your fingers with a smile on your face, saying, “Hello.” 

“You..” Heeseung swallows, nodding his head. He’s doing his best not to check you out but he really can’t help it when your jeans seem to fit like they were made for you. “Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hey.” 

He clears his throat, finally managing to unstick his gaze from your thighs and gestures in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we?” 

At the train station, you don’t object when Heeseung pays for your ticket, he didn’t mean to, his finger just clicked through for two tickets instead of one. He’s happy when you don’t make a big deal about it, only smiling and thanking him when he hands you the ticket. He stands close behind you, protective, letting the peak-time commuters nudge past him instead of you as you wait in line for the only working ticket barrier. You go through first and Heeseung quietly follows, trying to keep his eyes off your ass and praying that the rest of the day goes by more comfortably than it’s started. 

The train is packed too, so you stand by the doors and, again, Heeseung stands maybe a little closer than necessary, his arm above his head gripping the yellow handrail. “Why did you want to go to the museum anyway?” he asks, gulping when you look up at him. 

“I’ve always liked museums.” You shrug, playing with the buttons on your cardigan. 

“I know, it’s just.. You said earlier you wanted to go for one of your classes.” 

“Right. It’s a requirement for one of them. Visualising Culture,” you explain, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly nervous, he doesn’t trust his voice to speak so he nods, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. “Museum and Exhibition Studies.” 

“Cool.” 

“Yeah.” You nod and turn your head from him, looking through the window. 

Your eyes are stuck on the trees outside, blurring into each other, and his eyes are stuck on the side of your face, staring shamelessly for the rest of the journey. A tinny voice announces the name of the station you’re approaching, and you nudge Heeseung gently, a silent signal that it’s time to leave. Silence seems to follow you out of the station and into the museum, but he tells himself he doesn’t mind. 

For the last hour, you’ve been looking at artwork without taking note of anything or making comments, all while Heeseung observes you, wondering what you’re supposed to be doing for class. “What’s the point of this trip?” he finally asks. 

Without backing away from the painting, you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, what’s your task?”

You chew on your lip for a bit before looking back at the painting. He can’t help but wonder if in all your time away you’ve been flexing some sort of elitist muscle, or if it’s come about as a result of your fancy exhibition studies class that you had to take a test to be accepted into. Finally, you lean away from the painting and use your phone to take a picture of the blurb before looking at him again. 

“I wanted an excuse to get someone to come to the museum with me and I wanted it to be you.” 

Your words are so cute and so honest that his heart warms in his chest, even as he ignores his sadness about the fact you felt like you needed an excuse to hang out. “You could have just asked me.” 

Considering his words, you frown, tilting your head at him. “You make it sound so easy.” 

“It is easy, or it should be, it’s us,” he says unthinkingly. Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s, like, the whole point of having friends, right? To hang out with them?” 

“Well.. yes. I just.. I don’t know.” 

Somehow, this makes perfect sense to Heeseung who only nods his head, moving on from the frame when you do. It’s nice watching you admire the art, to watch the soft smile that develops as your eyes scan the canvas. 

You like looking at the paintings when no one else is, to get up close and try spotting the brush strokes. You like imagining the artist and how they might have felt as they painted, and when the paint is thick, protruding from the canvas, when you can see streaks of yellow peeking through a sludgy green. You have a lot to say about the paintings and how they make you feel, and how they don’t make you feel, finding something you like in all of them.

After a while, you grab Heeseung’s hand and excitedly pull him through all the Ancient Egypt stuff, and he’s too happy that his fingers are locked with yours to worry about his aching feet anymore, and you’re so cute with your wide grin that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d like to sit down. He hates you a little when the two of you take turns writing your names in hieroglyphs, and you somehow manage to maintain your neat handwriting. But you make up for it by writing his name too, drawing a pretty butterfly at the end that makes his heart race.

You start rambling about shabtis and how people were typically buried with a few, depending on their wealth and status, but Tutankhamun was buried with something like four hundred, and some of them were even painted to look like him. “Look at how pretty this one is,”  you say, grinning while holding your phone in his face with a picture of one. Your excitement peaks when you reach the big sarcophagus, and you let out a squeal when you open it and three kids run out, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’re excessively cute when you ask him to take a picture of you, and then make him take a video opening the front while you're ‘dead’ inside it. Which takes a few attempts because you’re laughing each time.

You tell him to delete those takes. He doesn’t.

Right when he’s expecting you to get out, you grab him by the wrist and pull him in with you, closing the front of it before letting go of him. Heeseung is certain he’s lived this exact moment before, but he was seventeen and you were giggling like crazy, feeling around in the dark for his shoulders to wrap your arms around before kissing him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or what you want him to do, and the feeling of your breath fanning his neck in the tight space isn’t helping. 

Silent minutes pass by like hours until a kid pulls the sarcophagus open. The light is blinding but Heeseung steps out, relieved, almost thanking the kid for saving him. You’re fiddling with your necklace and struggling to meet his eyes. When you do though, you shoot him an easy grin, laughing to yourself about nothing. 

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Drinks maybe?” you ask after a while, playing with the zipper on your jacket. 

Heeseung takes you to a restaurant where university students he’s only seen on Instagram walk around like they own the place. A tired-looking guy comes to take your orders before you even have a chance to take your coat off so Heeseung asks for a minute and the waiter leaves. There’s something in his demeanour though that makes it seem like you only have one full minute to make up your minds. 

“What do you want to drink?” you ask, holding the drinks menu out to him. 

Heeseung closes it, sitting it on the table. “Probably a beer.” 

You laugh at this. “You don’t have to act all manly in front of me.” There’s a soft look in your eyes like you mean it. 

“I actually like beer these days.” 

Your brows raise and your jaw drops before you utter the word whoa. 

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious. 

You shrug, collecting yourself. “You’re just.. different now.” 

The very prospect of being different is shocking to Heeseung who prides himself on being pretty consistent with his behaviour. His brows knit together as he tilts his head. “Because I like beer?” he asks, scoffing slightly at the mere suggestion. 

“I mean, that’s part of it.” To his dismay, this seems to be the end of your sentence. He gives you a little nod, hoping you read his mind and elaborate like he wants you to. “You bleached your hair, pierced your cartilage, what’s next? Are you going to tell me you have a tattoo?” 

Heeseung feels his breath catch in his throat when you say the word tattoo but you don’t seem to notice. “It’s been a year,” he points out, folding the corner of his napkin, pressing his thumb against it with enough pressure to leave a defined fold and have it stick up a little when he lets go. 

“I know, it’s just.. weird, you know?” Your voice is small when you speak, soft and quiet, barely anything above the noise around you both.

Heeseung nods. He does know. 

“You’re weird too.” 

“How?” There’s a defensive tone to your voice that makes him chuckle. 

“You’ve always been weird.” 

A dramatic frown curves your lips and the waiter is back before you can object. Leaning forward slightly, he orders for both of you, the sharing platter of fried chicken, your French Martini, and his controversial draught beer. He doesn’t miss the way you raise your brows when he orders the beer, as if you’d been waiting to catch him out or something. After the waiter leaves, Heeseung meets your gaze briefly, matching the gentle smile on your lips before looking away. 

The drinks only take a few minutes and you thank the waiter before looking over at Heeseung, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you slide your cocktail over to him. “Do you want to try?” 

He nods, lifting the glass and moving the straw out of the way to take a sip from the rim. Nodding his head, he hums in approval, eyes widening. “It’s good.” 

You lean back in your seat, twirling the straw when he hands the drink back to you. “Yeah?” you ask, smiling triumphantly as if you made it yourself. “A normal person would’ve used the straw.” 

Heeseung can’t help but roll his eyes, liking the way you laugh. “Are you acting out because I called you weird?” 

“A little.” 

The waiter places the platter at the centre of the table with a small smile, that you match, clearly hungrier than you’d been letting on as you lick your lips at the sight of the chicken. Heeseung’s stomach grumbles quietly as the scent hits his nose and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in days when a plate lands in front of each of you. A comfortable familiarity settles over him when he lets you pick first, and he knows you feel it too from the sweet smile you give him before eyeing the food. You take a while considering every wing, even though all of the pieces are scarily identical, before picking one and Heeseung follows, choosing with much less care than you, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Under your light-hearted scrutiny, he orders a cocktail the next time the waiter comes around. It’s much better than his beer, and so quickly, one cocktail turns into two until both you and Heeseung are four drinks in, laughing over nothing and putting in an effort not to slur your words together. 

Time seems to pass at the same rate as your drinks, though neither of you seems to notice until you check the time on your phone and your mouth falls into a gasp. Heeseung does the same when you show him your screen, you only have ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the station so you can catch the last train. 

He gets up to settle the bill as quickly as humanly possible before you grab him by the hand and book it out of the restaurant. Though breathless, he knows he can’t let up, running as fast as his legs will carry him as he tugs you along behind him. Somehow you still have it in you to cackle every time either of you trips up. 

Out of breath, you both slump into the first seats you find, sobering up a little after the run. He looks at you and feels his heart snag in his chest. “You okay?” he asks, huffing out a breath that pushes his bangs into the air.

“No,” you whine, pouting and resting your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours reaching his hand out to grab your own. He squeezes it gently, in a way he hopes is comforting. You lock your fingers with his before he can pull away and Heeseung’s heart starts pounding again. 

He doesn’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the train reaches your stop and you don’t react. He doesn’t want to wake you up, nor does he want to let go of your hand, but he knows he has to. Heeseung nudges you gently, rousing you from your sleep. “Let’s go,” he mumbles. 

Stretching your arms above your head, you nod while yawning. 

You take tired steps alongside him on the short walk back to your apartment, not saying anything until you reach your doorstep when you yawn once more, looking up at him. “I actually had fun today, thanks for hanging out with me.” 

“Actually?” Heeseung raises a brow. “Did you think you wouldn’t?” 

You shrug, chewing on your lip. “I thought it might be awkward.” 

“It kind of was.” 

“Maybe,” you admit with a nod. “It was a pretty successful first date though.” Your eyes are like saucers as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “Not in that way. I’m only saying ‘date’ because that’s what I said in the chat—I would’ve called it a date if Hoon came with me, you know? I didn’t see this as a date if that’s what you’re thinking. Because it wasn’t. And I didn’t.” 

“Mhm,” Heeseung hums with a sceptical look on his face, finding amusement in watching you scramble to correct yourself. “First dates are always awkward, baby, don’t worry.” The endearment slips out before he can help it, his heart stopping in his chest until he sees you smiling. 

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t a date, baby.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made me pay for your train ticket, I paid for dinner and drinks. As far as first dates go, I’ve been a perfect gentleman all night.” 

“That you have.” You nod once, firmly. “I’m not going to pay you back or anything. And this is hardly our first date.” 

Heeseung grins despite himself. “Is this your way of saying I can bill you for our other dates? Do you have savings?” 

Your head falls back in laughter, the sound infectious as it falls from your lips. You sigh softly, straightening up after a beat and nudging his shoulder with your fist. “Stop making me laugh or I’ll do something stupid like kiss you.” 

His heart races in his chest, caught between your laugh and the thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I feel like if we pulled up a typical date timeline we’d be right on track for that, don’t you think?” 

“Heeseung,” you mumble, face softening. It doesn’t seem like you’re finding this funny anymore. Your gaze locks on his lips — a hyper focus that makes him press them together nervously — before snapping up to meet his eyes. You gulp. “Goodnight, thank you for today.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Don’t say that or I’ll take you up on it.” 

Heeseung shrugs. “You say that like I’d have a problem with it.” 

“You wouldn’t?” 

“Never.” 

A small laugh comes through your nose as you smile up at him. “I’ll see you, let me know when you get home.” 

“Got it.” 

Wordlessly, you open the door, crossing the threshold before saying goodnight again. Heeseung says it back, watching you shut the door and waiting for the lock to click before he leaves. 

He’s never drinking with you again. 

Heeseung feels like he’s settling into the role of your friend quite well. So well that he can spend time alone with you without the discomfort he felt in September. Maybe he’s taking liberties, bending the word friendship to suit him, but as you lie in his bed together, your head on his chest as you nap, he can’t bring himself to care too much. He knows he’ll get hurt by this at some point, but for now, he’s just happy to play with your hair and try his best to fall asleep too. You don’t stir when Jay opens the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him, tilting his head before closing the door quietly. 

Sleep never reaches him, but he pretends to yawn, rubbing at his eyes when your alarm wakes you up, making a point to stretch his arms over his head and only respond to you in a lazy mumble when you speak. “Whose idea was it to nap between classes, again?”

“I think it was yours.”

“Damn,’ you mumble, yawning again before laying back down, head returning to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. “I think ten more minutes, fifteen, and then we wake up and go back.” 

“Or we could skip?” 

The suggestion makes you jolt upright, fully awake now. You let your eyes drag over his face, and maybe Heeseung’s being hopeful or straight-up imagining things, but your gaze lingers on his lips for more than a few seconds before you gulp and meet his eyes. “Lee Heeseung trying to skip class? I never thought I’d see the day.” A smile spreads over your lips, turning into a laugh as you throw your head back. “That was funny, Hee. Let’s go.’

Heeseung’s brows furrow, watching you stretch your arms out in front of you. Was it so hard to believe he would skip class if it meant spending more time with you? His lips settle into a pout. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re scaring me. Come on, let’s go,” you say, making no attempts to get up. 

To prove a point, Heeseung shifts under the covers, lying on his side with his back to you. “You go ahead, I’m staying.” 

You sigh but don’t get out of bed, only lying down next to him and draping an arm over his waist. “Ten more minutes.” You press yourself against his back and he feels his heart racing. As quickly as he feels it, you stiffen behind him. “I’m not crossing a line, right? Holding you like this? It’s always been easier to sleep if you’re next to me,” you say into his shirt. 

Remembering the way you would cuddle into his side during sleepovers, his heart aches, wondering if you had endured the same sleepless nights as him. Heeseung only lifts your arm to turn onto his back, pulling you onto his chest like you had been earlier. “Fifteen,” he says. 

Seeing as neither of you bothered to set another alarm, you sleep through class, only waking up when it’s dark out and Jay comes back. “I bought dinner, come eat,” he says, leaving the door open on his way out. 

Wordlessly, you both peel yourselves from bed, dragging your feet to the kitchen to wash your hands before joining Jay in the living room. Heeseung sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table while you and Jay sit on the couch. He’s not awake enough to fully register your conversation over the rustle of plastic takeout bags and his sudden overwhelming hunger, but you’re telling Jay to shut up, mumbling something and he lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest when Heeseung turns around to hand over your food. 

With his elbows on the table, he takes a bite from his burger and has to suppress a moan. Most of your conversation with Jay goes over his head and he doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until you’re standing at the door pulling on your shoes. Given the way Jay’s lying on the couch, Heeseung assumes he’s on walking-you-home duty and grabs a jacket before stuffing his feet into Jay’s slides. 

The conversation is light as you walk together, Heeseung making sure he’s on the edge of the pavement the whole time and letting you talk about your friends. The walk has become so natural now that he only realises you’re approaching home when you take out your key to open the door to your building. 

“Do you want to meet before class tomorrow? To go over the slides we missed today?” you ask, with something behind your eyes that Heeseung sleepily interprets as hope. 

He nods, smiling at you and waiting for you to lock the door before he leaves. 

Jay’s awake when Heeseung gets back home; he can’t say he’s surprised. Heeseung only nods at Jay, who sits on the couch, but he knows his flatmate well enough to know there’s a conversation coming because the TV is off and his laptop is shut. Heeseung makes it all the way to his door before Jay says anything. “You’re in way over your head.” 

Heeseung sighs, not in the mood. “Okay. Night,” he says, opening the door. 

By the time November arrives and Jake’s birthday approaches, everything is back to normal again. Turning nineteen, Jake celebrates with a modest pub crawl that spirals into a three-day bender, leaving him bedridden for nearly a week due to dehydration and fear of a test he’d forgotten to study for. 

In standard Jake fashion, he manages to bounce back and sits across from Jay at his favourite restaurant only six days after his actual birthday. Considering the state he was in, it’s a wonder he can stomach the smell of alcohol, let alone down four cocktails without a pause. Jay and Sunghoon exchange sighs, each supporting one of Jake’s sleeping arms on their shoulders to carry him home. 

“Cover the bill and let me know the amount. I’ll transfer you in the morning,” Jay mumbles before they leave. 

You shake your head when Heeseung asks if you want to go home as well. “Unless you want to,” you say, all of your words blending together. “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you sitting here bored or anything.” 

Heeseung smiles. “I’m not bored, we can stay as long as you like.” You seem to take this to heart, nodding and flagging down a waiter to order more drinks. “Let’s maybe slow down a little though,” he suggests. 

He pours you a glass of water and makes you drink the whole thing, withholding your alcohol until you’ve finished the cold tteokbokki in front of you. Gradually, you become more coherent, wiping your face with your hands and sitting up a little straighter. You thank him when he pours soju for you and take tiny sips from the glass here and there, telling Heeseung about some of the friends you made while you were away. There’s Yizhuo—sweet, funny, and down-to-earth. And Minjeong—a quiet girl who needed a while to warm up to new people. You tell him about meeting her for the first time, how unsure she seemed when Yizhuo introduced you two, but by the end of the night, she was falling asleep next to you in bed with her arms and legs tangled around you. 

“Do you miss them?” It’s a stupid question, anyone could tell from the fond smile on your face that you do. 

A beat passes while you think about it before shrugging. “Not as much as I missed being here.” If he wasn’t watching you, or looking you straight in the eye, he probably would’ve missed the longing in your gaze. 

He’s never known you to be subtle after a drink, and Heeseung knows he needs to nip this conversation in the bud before either of you says something you can’t take back. “How are you getting on with your research task?” he asks, while at the same time you say, “I’m so happy to be back.” 

A short laugh slips out of you, a hand falling to the table before wrapping around your glass. You bring it up to your face but don’t drink, only looking down into it as if it’ll tell you what to say. “Are you happy I’m back?” 

“Sure,” Heeseung says noncommittally. 

You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. “I loved you. I still love you,” you mumble. “Even after all that.” 

He’s not sure what to make of this, of anything you’re saying. It’s not like you had a messy breakup or anything. At least, he wouldn’t describe his long-term girlfriend breaking up with him and asking if they could be friends after as messy. Even in heartbreak, Heeseung was a reasonable person, and any reasonable person would’ve said no. Like he did. 

“I still.. You’re still the one for me.” 

His stomach lurches violently. “Don’t say that.” He gets out of his seat quicker than he means to and leaves you at the table, tapping his foot as he waits in line by the bar to pay the bill, praying he’s right about the two of you sitting at table ten when the cashier asks. With a folded receipt in his pocket and too much to think about, he returns to the table, only putting on his coat and mumbling, “Let’s go.” 

For some reason, you don’t seem to mirror his urgency, only finishing off the drink you had left in one go and sitting for a bit longer. He takes your jacket from the back of your chair and holds it open for you, helping you into it when you finally stand up. “Thanks,” you giggle.

Heeseung says nothing. 

The silence and fresh air outside are sobering as he watches an Uber driver through the app, very slowly moving from two minutes away to one before arriving. Maybe if you hadn’t said what you said at the table, he might have warmed to the idea of a forty-minute walk alone with you, but you did say those things and even the thought of this fifteen-minute car ride is unbearable when John (4.9 stars) pulls up on the curb outside. You thank Heeseung quietly when he opens the door for you, and against his better judgement, he walks over to the other side of the car and sits in the middle seat like he used to. 

Slow R&B murmurs through the speakers as the driver pulls off while Heeseung hums along. His thigh is pressed against yours but he does his best not to think about it, only chewing his lip when you rest your head on his shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours before regretting it.

He doesn’t move. 

It feels a little bit like the driver is playing Heeseung’s playlist, as every song he knows and loves seems to come on one after the other, steeping him in an odd comfort in the backseat of this car.

Your hand falls onto his knee so clumsily he’s sure it’s a mistake, so sure you’ll move it back into your lap that he’s genuinely surprised when you don’t. Unsure what to do, he chooses not to acknowledge it, acting like you sitting so close to him, like the feeling that no time has passed, doesn’t make his heart clench. Slowly but surely, your hand inches up his thigh—a motion Heeseung stops as soon as he realises, his hand falling heavily over yours and pushing it back to his knee. He thinks about keeping it there, but when he feels his thumb stroking your skin, he moves his hand immediately. You’ve obviously gotten the wrong idea. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve actually gotten the right idea. You have. But it can’t happen like this. After a few minutes, you move your hand again, and like before, Heeseung pushes it back, keeping his hand over yours and reminding himself not to move his thumb.

You’re drunk. This will pass. 

Finally, the driver parks outside your building, and Heeseung’s sure his “thank you so much” holds the world’s sincerity in it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and practically leaps out of the car. He opens your door and has to undo your belt for you, helping you out and thanking the driver again. 

There’s a couple leaving the building when the two of you reach the door, and with your arms wrapped around his, he thanks them when they hold it open.

The lift takes forever to come and Heeseung pushes the up button five times before it arrives. He lets the girl in fleecy pyjamas with a takeout bag in her hand go in first before following, pressing the button reading 7 before relaxing a bit. Under the protection of a stranger, he knows you won’t do anything. The journey to your floor feels like hours as the lift drags its way up the shaft—why does nothing share his urgency? 

You don’t say anything until the elevator door swooshes shut behind you. “I love you, Heeseung. You know I love you.” You’re saying everything he’s been wanting you to say for ages, but the words make his words sting. 

“Do you know where your keys are?” he asks, though you still have a ways to go before you reach your door. 

“My pocket,” you mumble. 

Heeseung finds your keys, unlocks the door and helps you in. As much as he wants to leave, he knows if he does, you won’t take your makeup off or change, so he holds your hair back for you as you brush your teeth and wash your face in the sink quietly. 

In your bedroom, you search through your drawers, pulling out something to wear. He turns his back to you and ends up face-to-face with an old photo of the two of you from school. 

“You can look, Hee.”

Drawn to the picture, he doesn’t reply. The boys are in it too, but it feels like you two are the focus. Everyone’s smiling at the camera except Heeseung, who — with his arm around you — stares at the side of your face with a lopsided smile. Happiness radiates from his being, lighting his eyes and face.

“I want you to look.” The softness and desperation in your voice tug his heart.

“Come on ba—” Heeseung sighs. “Just get dressed, yeah?” 

You don’t say anything but he can hear the rustle of your clothes as you change. 

Jealousy blooms in his chest, looking at himself three years ago. Happy and full of love for you and your friends, for life. Everything was so easy then. His chest tightens and he has to close his eyes.

Heeseung feels you next to him, hears your jewellery falling into the clay holder on your dresser and opens his eyes, looking at you. You’re in a t-shirt he’s sure belongs to Jake and struggling with the clasp on your necklace. He knows you want him to help but he feels like he can’t move.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really do want to be with you,” you say when you finally get the necklace off. “And I know I’m too late, but I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want to be with you.” 

You’re so close the peppermint on your breath hits him like a wave. A distinct smell of citrus and summer, of Jake, comes from your body, mixed up with the scent of you in a way that makes him uneasy. 

He gets a headache trying to make sense of your words, if it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, then what was it? Even back then, you didn’t elaborate, you just repeated his name and the words: it’s not your fault, over and over until they sounded made up. Heeseung can’t entertain this conversation, not now. Not when you’re drunk and looking up at him with longing in your eyes. “I think we need to get you to bed,” Heeseung mumbles, taking a step back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“But I’m here now and we can be together again.”

“You moving was never the problem. You know that wasn’t the problem.” A tear slips down your cheek and he softens immediately. “I wanted to go with you, I was going to go with you.” 

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, frowning. “This university was your dream. How could I let you give up your scholarship for me?”

“You were my dream,” he admits. “And it wasn’t your decision to make.” 

“You would have made the wrong one.” 

Heeseung scoffs. “Do you think breaking up was the right one?” 

Your silence is brutally telling. You squeeze your eyes shut as if trying to magic yourself out of the conversation, but it only makes more tears fall. A realisation hits him like a truck: you’re thinking about it. A painful lump forms in his throat. How could you have anything to think about? How was breaking up with him, not the single worst decision you’ve ever made? He can’t believe you could have let go so easily if you loved him. Long distance wouldn’t have been easy, but surely if you loved him, you would have made it work. You would have tried. Heeseung wishes he hadn’t asked at all.

“I do,” you say finally, opening your eyes to look at him.

His heart is heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

“Heeseung.”

“What?” 

A stomach-churning sob falls out of you. “I don’t know.” 

Another silence weighs the room down and Heeseung knows what he needs to do. He sighs. “Let’s just.. I should go.” 

You don’t put up a fight, you don’t say anything, only letting your shoulders droop before you sigh and lead Heeseung to the front door. He says goodbye as he puts his shoes on and all you do is watch as he leaves your apartment. He waits for you to close the door and lock it before walking away.

Heeseung walks all the way home and only cries when he closes his door, sliding down the back of it like something from a movie. With tears in his eyes, and his knees to his chest, he pulls out his phone to text you. I hope your hangover isn’t too bad, he types. Let’s only talk when we need to.

The two of you manage to hold this up, with you finding others to sit with during classes, and no one seeming to question Heeseung’s skipping plans or new close friendship with Mark’s group who he spends time with between classes instead. But as always, things have a funny way of going different to how Heeseung expected them to. 

After three weeks of near radio silence, Jay barges into his room with his face scrunched up. “What are you doing?” 

“Right now?” Heeseung asks, confused. Standing by the bed with the corner of his duvet in his hand, in nothing but his underwear, he thinks his plans look a little obvious. “I’m about to jerk off.”

Jay rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know what I mean.” 

“Evidently, I do not.” 

“Why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” he asks, squinting at Heeseung. 

“We’re hanging out right now.”

“Forgive me if I don’t count an impromptu circle jerk as hanging out.”

“I don’t.. want to do that.”

Jay clutches his chest. “I’m crushed.” 

Heeseung studies his expression. Serious, an inch of concern pooling in his eyes. “We dated for six years, she dumped me, I turned into a shell of myself, but she moved back home and we’re all friends again, so I think things are looking up for me.”

A deep sigh leaves Jay as he sits on the bed. “What happened at the bar with YN three weeks ago when we all left?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What exactly counts as ordinary for you two?”

Heeseung’s still trying to figure that out. He shrugs. “Making the right decisions.” 

“So you’re okay?”

“Never better.’

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” There’s a sincere look on Jay’s face as he leans back on his hands.

“Which is why I’m being honest.” 

It doesn’t seem like Jay’s going to let this go, but to Heeseung’s surprise, he smiles. “Perfect,” he says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the mirror where he checks himself out. “Because she and the guys are going to be here in ten. Put some clothes on.”

He does just that, pulling some shorts over his hips and a shirt over his head before pulling the two bean bag chairs stacked next to the couch to sit in front of the TV, claiming one of them with his body by sinking into it. The cosy material is soft against his thighs and he wonders why they don’t use them more. 

Ten minutes go by like seconds when Jay gets up to answer the door, laughing at something one of you says before leading you all into the living room. He’s watching some show Jay left on, greeting you and the boys with a wave before turning back to the TV. Behind him, the four of you laugh and talk on the couch but Heeesung’s too wrapped up in an argument on screen to join in. His attention only falters when he reaches for the open six-pack on the coffee table. It’s barely out of his reach, so he turns around to take a beer, trying to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest seeing you and Jay cuddled up together. It’s friendly, he knows that. Jay’s with Yunjin and you’re.. He’s still not sure, but it hurts nonetheless. You’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn and he only laughs when you throw a handful at him. 

The red speaker Sunghoon’s holding chimes three times when he turns it on, a Frank Ocean thudding out of it that drowns out the show he’s watching, leaving him to follow along with the subtitles instead. But he can’t focus. 

Heeseung tries to settle his heartache, comforting himself with the thought of the two of you in another reality. One where it’s him instead of Jay. Or one where you come over and sit with him, curling up in his lap, pouting because Jay’s being mean. He pictures himself stroking your hair and kissing away your pout, holding you into his chest when Jake and Sunghoon start teasing you. In this reality, however, he watches you peel Jay’s shirt from his chest and dump a handful of popcorn in the gap, cackling to yourself at the clear frustration he doesn’t verbalise. Heeseung sighs, looking back at the TV and taking a sad sip of his sad beer. 

After a while, you fall into the beanbag next to him, sprawling out over the whole thing and looking at him. “Hey, Heeseung.” 

“Hello.” 

“I’m sorry about that night.” Your voice is quiet, clearly apologetic if the way you don’t meet his eyes is anything to go by.

“Okay.” Heeseung nods and a beat passes. “I meant what I said, what I texted you.” It hurts to say but it’s for the best. He stands up out of the beanbag, making a show of stretching his arms and legs before sinking into the couch next to Jake. Over Jake’s slouched form, Jay shoots him a look, arching a brow. Heeseung only stages a chuckle, shrugging before looking at the TV again. He can’t make sense of anything on the screen. 

Sunghoon emerges from Jay’s room with a grin on his face, asking when you’re going to eat. In standard fashion, the four of you stand around Jay in the kitchen, bothering him by telling him what to do like he’s a child as he puts frozen pizza and some garlic bread in the oven. 

“The middle one’s the timer,” Jake says, pointing at the knobs above the oven door. “It’s there so you can set how long the food needs to cook for, and after you set it, it’ll go off so you know it’s ready.”

“But it’s all up to you and your discretion. You can open the door whenever you want to check on everything,” you coo, patting his shoulder.

If Jay’s actually annoyed, nothing about his smile gives it away as he nods with a clenched fist, closing the door and sitting next to Heeseung on the countertop. Heeseung’s almost too busy focusing on the way his beer heats his stomach to notice the way you watch him with a small frown from barely an arm’s length away. Sunghoon picks up on your declining mood and thrusts an open bottle into your hand. “We like to drink with—” He’s cut off by Jay taking the bottle and setting it behind you on the counter, mumbling cut it out, dude, and tugging you out of the kitchen by the arm when he notices the tears in your eyes. 

He hears Jay’s door close and nobody says anything until the timer goes off and Jay comes back alone, filling a plate with food and going back to his room. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Jake says to the back of Jay’s head, offbeat and half smiling as he washes his hands in the sink. 

Sitting at the table, he watches Jake and Sunghoon eat while pretending nothing’s wrong. 

At the end of the night, when everyone’s gone home, Heeseung gets into bed, barely managing to pull the duvet up when there’s a knock at his door. “Yeah?” he calls out. Jay appears with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly. 

Jay regards him with a frown. “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You were going to.” 

“Yeah.” He nods, and Heeseung prepares himself for a lecture. “I was going to say, I’m going home next week, for Christmas, so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” 

The holidays go by in a soju and tteokguk-filled blur, with Heeseung choosing to stay at home until the day of his first class of the second semester so he doesn’t have to be around you. He tells himself it’s for the good of your friend group, as he watches you all make plans in the group chat through notification bubbles, so he doesn’t leave a read receipt. 

The commute is more jarring than he realised. What had been a twenty-minute drive turns into an hour-long journey, including a thirty-minute walk to the train station ‘near’ house, fifteen minutes on the train into the city centre, and another fifteen minutes on foot to campus. He’s drenched in sweat despite the below-zero temperature and has to make a stop to the bathroom to sort himself out.

He arrives early at least, finding the room where his Ethnography: Theory and Practice 2 class is set to start in fifteen minutes. The only indicator that he’s in the right place is the lecturer’s name and contact information written in the top corner of a whiteboard, and Heeseung picks the seat furthest from the door. It’s an elective class and, judging by the nine empty chairs next to him, not a very popular one. He’s relieved at least that he’ll be able to start off the semester without running into anyone he knows, least of all you. As seats start filling up and the lecturer arrives, he’s feeling unusually lucky. 

So, of course, you show up, running a hand through your hair as you walk through the open door, apologising for being late even though there are still two minutes until the class is scheduled to begin. Of course, the only empty seat is the one next to him, which you sit in without looking at him, making an effort to angle your body away from him. Of course, the lecturer assigns a presentation for two weeks time, pairing the class with the person they’re sitting beside. Neither you nor Heeseung say a word to each other, but you raise your hand when prompted to pick a topic to cover. He can’t help his irritation at you for making the decision without asking him, but you look so nice in your hoodie with your hair tied up that his annoyance settles before it has a chance to bloom. 

“YN YLN and Heeseung Lee, we’ll do music and cultural expression,” you say, picking the topic he wanted to do anyway. 

When class is over, you’re quick to get out of your seat, pulling on your jacket and stuffing your laptop back into your bag before leaving so quickly that Heeseung has to leave his stuff behind to go after you. You don’t stop walking when he calls out your name, and too scared to make a scene, he overtakes you, leaving you with no option but to stop in front of him. 

“We should go to the library, get the research and shit out of the way ASAP,” he suggests.

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m going to get my stuff.”

You follow him back to class, watching from the door as he puts his things in his bag before putting on his jacket. You don’t say anything on the walk to the library, when you get there, or when you browse the Cultural Studies section. Heeseung glances at you and you’re chewing on your lip, crouching a bit to read the spines of the books on the lower shelves. “Are you alright?” he asks with genuine concern. 

You look up at him, nodding. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t said anything in an hour.”

This makes you straighten up, your brows furrowing in an expression he can’t figure out. “Sorry, Heeseung,” you say, your voice weak. “I’m just trying to figure out if you think I need to talk right now.” 

“Obviously, a paired project is a situation where we need to talk.” 

You sigh, muttering oh, my God, before you look at him. “You know what, I’m going home. Let’s do this tomorrow.” 

“We have class in twenty minutes.” 

“Yeah, I’ll read the slides when I get in.”

Unsure what to say, he watches you walk away, deciding that he should just go home too. 

At the flat he hasn’t seen in five weeks, Heeseung feels slightly out of place, going straight to his room and into bed, not even getting up when he hears Jay coming home. Jay opens the door without knocking, his mouth falling into an excited ‘o’ shape. “Hey, stranger,” he says. “I thought you weren’t coming back, so I started advertising your room on Gumtree.” 

“Any offers?”

“No one as good as you.” Heeseung doesn’t have to look at Jay to know he’s smiling. “Move over,” he mumbles, lifting the duvet. 

Lazily, he rolls over in bed, making room for Jay who makes himself comfortable under the covers. 

“What are you doing, Heeseung?” 

“Trying to sleep.” 

“Talk to me, help me understand.” Jay sighs and Heeseung’s lips curl into a frown. “You’re my best friend,” Jay says quietly, with a tenderness that strikes him. 

“You’re my best friend,” Heeseung repeats like an affirmation. 

“So why won’t you talk to me?”

There’s a subtle hurt in Jay’s voice that upsets Heeseung, who shifts around to lie on his back. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that YN hasn’t already.” 

“She only told me that she fucked up.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it sound drastic, especially considering he’s the one who left. Again. But he’s too bitter to say that out loud so he bites his tongue. “Seems to be the theme in our relationship.” The words taste rotten when he says them.

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you get to be a dick,” Jay says. “What happened?” 

It takes some time but Heeseung explains everything, letting Jay ask questions and make comments until the end when he looks away, pressing his eyes shut and saying, “Oh.” 

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I get it. Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. Why can’t you just be together already?”

Everything sounds painfully simple when it’s put like that. But there’s too much between you both for it to go that way. It’s not like he didn’t want to be with you when you confessed, it’s that he didn’t know how he could without knowing why you left him in the first place. Without knowing what he did that was so terrible you couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with him, never mind the same area code. 

A beat passes before Heeseung speaks. “There was something wrong, and instead of trying to fix it, she just.. gave up. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. I could’ve changed, could’ve fixed things, but she didn’t even tell me.” 

“Maybe she didn’t feel like she could. I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, Heeseung.” 

“But she did.” 

“Yeah,” Jay admits, sympathy lacing the word. 

“How can I be with her knowing there’s some awful part of me she hates?” 

“It’s not like that, not really.” 

“What’s it like then?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.” 

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “Do you keep my secrets as dutifully as you keep hers?” 

“Are you kidding? She doesn’t even know you have secrets.” Jay sounds exhausted as he speaks, and it’s the last sound to come from him until a few minutes pass and Heeseung hears him snoring. 

You didn’t reply when Heeseung texted you asking to meet in the library before class, but you show up anyway, pulling out the seat across from him and dumping your bag on the table. “I don’t know if you saw the email, but the partner work is just for the presentation.” 

“Cool.” he nods, relieved. 

“I think after that, I’ll start hanging out with Yunjin instead, so you’re not uncomfortable.” 

Heeseung frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not uncomfortable around you,” he says. “I just don’t.. get you. You dump me and move as far away as you can. Now you’re back and what? You love me again?” 

You furrow your brows, inspecting him for a moment before you speak. “I don’t love you again, Heeseung. I’ve loved you this whole time.” 

“So why didn’t you choose me? I just wanted you to choose me.” He’s too anxious to know the truth to worry about how desperate he must sound. Until he notices that the guys sitting at the other end of the tables are watching him, their brows arched sharply in a mixture of shock and curiosity. Heeseung runs a hand over his face, hoping the motion might wipe away the flush burning his cheeks.

“You wanted me to choose you over my future?” 

“I could’ve been your future, part of it. I’d never ask you to choose me over university, you know I wouldn’t. I’m saying you could’ve had both.” 

“It wasn’t as easy as that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Heeseung,” you say like it’s an answer. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t want me. That’s all I want to know.” 

The following silence makes him consider packing up abruptly and faking an emergency. He’s sure he could probably fake his death if he slumps in his chair slowly enough. 

You sigh heavily, interrupting his train of thought—now, he’s wondering if he even wants to know. “Because you would’ve put me first,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “If I stayed here or moved away, I would’ve been your top priority and I couldn’t let you throw away everything you worked for, for me.” 

“I loved you, of course, you were my top priority.” He can’t believe he even has to say it, can’t believe you might have thought you weren’t the single most important thing in his life. 

“Heeseung, you were sacrificing your life for me. You missed your cousin’s engagement party to help me study for a history test, you deferred your scholarship entry by a year just so we could go to college at the same time. How could I keep letting you miss out on your life?” 

“Deferring my entry wasn’t just for you,” he lies. “And it’s not like I missed the wedding.” 

“But I think you would’ve if I stubbed my toe.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” 

You sigh again, shaking your head. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t keep living like that, you can’t just throw everything away. You’re such a hard worker, Heeseung, and I’d hate to see you waste that over some girl.” 

“But you’re you. You weren’t just ‘some girl’ you were my girl.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s true. “We were in high school and I was studying constantly; it didn’t matter back then. And you were so far away, it’s not like I could feasibly drop everything and go to you every time something happened.” 

“Heeseung.” 

“You had a choice.” 

“Heeseung.” 

The way you’re saying his name reminds him of your breakup—the pink walls of your childhood bedroom and the pictures of the two of you stuck up all over them, in frames on your desk, and stickers on your light switch. How they seemed to close in around him as he put all of his energy into staying on two feet, instead of falling to the floor and begging you on hands and knees to stay with him. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve spent the last year and a half wondering what I did wrong, I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.” We could’ve tried, he wants to say. I could have changed and we could’ve tried. 

“I didn’t want you to lose that. I felt really lucky that you loved me like that, and I didn’t want to rob someone else of it, you know. I thought maybe you’d find a balance with someone someday, but I didn’t think that person would be me.” 

Heeseung has to put in an effort to stop his jaw from dropping. How could there ever be someone else? How could you ever think he could have someone else? There’s so much he wants to say, to ask, but he can tell by the way you press your lips together that you’re done with the conversation. 

“It’s not too late.” 

You tilt your head at him. “What?” 

“In your room that night, you said you were too late,” he explains. “I love you.”

“Still?” 

His heart shifts uncomfortably in his chest at the tone of your voice and the way your eyebrows shoot up. “Always,” he says. 

A smile starts to curve your lips, but it slips before it has a chance to bloom, stifled happiness that you cover with your hands, hiding your face completely. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Your palms muffle the words but not their impact; you’re right and he knows it. 

It’s been a year—the longest of his life, and the hard part is already over. He knows now and he’ll do anything he can to fix it. “Right.” Heeseung nods but you’re not looking at him. He’s going to fix it. For now, though, he says, “What’s our research topic again?” Despite having had Music and Cultural Expression typed into the search bar since before you arrived. 

With Heeseung’s work ethic and your commitment to being the best, the presentation goes quite smoothly. You make no mistakes, and Heeseung, distracted by how pretty you look in professional attire, manages to stumble through the script he’d rehearsed. The two of you even win the first place prize — satisfaction that you got a perfect score — and celebrate with coffee afterwards. 

Between the four walls of the campus café, you and Heeseung sip lattes that taste like temperature — still too hot to have a real flavour — and laugh with each other about something Jay said when you all hung out last night. Neither of you mentions your conversation from two weeks ago, deciding instead to fall into the patterns of your first term together: napping in his bed after class and coming up with excuses for alone time. He makes an effort to follow through with his commitments, even when you ask him to hang out, to show you that he’s different now. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t said anything about it, but Heeseung tells himself it’s a good thing while missing shots on the court with Mark, too hung up on you to focus on anything else. The only thing left is to figure out a way to be yours again and do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t lose you. 

Over your shoulder, through the window, the sun slips below the horizon, casting long shadows around the café. He takes a deep breath when he looks at you, smiling down at your phone as you take a picture of your half-drunk latte and the milky swirls still peeking through your coffee. A tangible determination settles in his chest as evening’s first stars appear in the sky, he knows one thing for sure: he has to grab the chance to be yours again with both hands, and once it’s his, he won’t let go this time. 

The café may be clearing out, but his heart is full of hope and for the time being, sitting with you as a friend is.. fine. 

You’d often imagined what it would be like if you hadn’t broken up with Lee Heeseung. 

Most of your first year was spent daydreaming about him in all of your usual hangouts. Sometimes, at drinks with your friends, you envisioned him showing up, a smile on his face as he apologised for being late. He’d slide into the booth next to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. Other times you imagined him showing up to surprise you, sitting on a bench in the quad and grinning when he saw you leaving. He’d run up to you with open arms and a bouquet in his hand, wrapping you in a hug and whispering that he missed you too much to wait another day to see you. You would even fall asleep thinking about FaceTime calls that stayed on overnight or drunken texts after the club, misspelt I love yous and can’t wait to see yous filling your text thread. 

You didn’t tell your new friends much about him, briefly mentioning a partner you’d watched some film with or an artist he liked if they came up, and most nights were spent begging Jay to send you Heeseung’s social media posts and tell you every detail of the day they had without you. Based on accounts from Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, it seemed like he was getting on well, a fact that — while hurtful — pushed you to try and do the same. After a month of avoiding your flatmates, you finally managed to connect with them, going to various social events around campus and rolling your eyes any time a drunk guy complimented you. 

This is why it took you by surprise to see him at Mark Lee’s party in the summer—sitting alone in the garden, in sweatpants and a flannel, looking at his phone with a deep frown etched over his lips. When you think about it, it feels like so long has passed since then and it’s hard to believe it wasn’t even a year ago. 

Being back in Heeseung’s life has been more challenging than you thought it would be when you filled out your transfer application. Especially in the weeks since you finished your presentation together, since you suggested the library might not have been the right place for the conversation you were having and never followed up on. 

Now doesn’t seem like the right time either—you’re sitting on the floor in Jake and Sunghoon’s living room with your back against the couch, sharing a blanket with Heeseung. Jay left about an hour ago to go to Yunjin’s, leaving the four of you to your own devices. You know you can’t bring it up with Jake and Sunghoon around, but you’ve had plenty of opportunities to over the last month. 

When you finished your celebratory lattes, Heeseung walked you home. The sky was a perfect inky black, and it was cold enough to see your breath, just the way he liked, so cold he offered you his jacket to wear. He didn’t say anything about it, only shrugging it off and setting it gently over your shoulders, shocking you so much that you stopped walking. The scent of his cologne, dark and woody, was overwhelming as you slid your arms into the sleeves, zipping it up and after three paces without you, Heeseung turned his head with wide eyes. You could have said it then, you wanted to say it then, but you bit your tongue and thanked him instead. He smiled, gulping when you closed the gap, you should have kissed him, he was close enough, his lips just a tip-toe and tilted head away, but you hugged him instead. 

After that, the two of you had all the time in the world together. Between your shared classes and going for meals alone. All the time you’d spend in his living room together, cosy on the couch when Jay would go to sleep. So many moments to talk, to get back together, but the words would die in your throat every time you thought them. It all seemed too cheesy or not cheesy enough, too dramatic or too casual, you couldn’t strike a balance and had no idea how to even find one. 

Last night was probably the most jarring occasion. Yunjin and Chaewon had been trying to convince you to go the club all week but you just weren’t in the mood. They seemed happy enough when you suggested hosting pres—but now you think they’d been hoping you’d be so drunk you’d just agree to go out. Yunjin brought half a litre of vodka and Chaewon brought a soup flask with enough murky cocktail in it to feed a small family. Together, the three of you drank and gossiped around the small table in your living room, with Chaewon’s phone in a glass to amplify her playlist. After taking a whiff of whatever she brought, you and Yunjin decided — for everyone’s wellbeing — to hide her flask and take shots of vodka, finishing off the cider you had left in the fridge. 

“Please come out,” Yunjin begged. “I’ll feel bad leaving you here, all pretty and drunk by yourself.” 

“I’ll feel bad too!” Chaewon added, clasping her hands. “Not bad enough to stay with you, but I’ll probably have less fun.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t even have an outfit.” The words were like music to their ears and you regretted them as soon as you said them. Both girls grabbed you by the hand, tugging you to your room and flinging open your wardrobe. Yunjin looked for a top and Chaewon for a skirt, though both of them gasped when they saw the dress you wore for Heeseung’s birthday. Chaewon pulled it from the rack, holding it out in front of her. 

“We won’t pay for anything if you wear this,” she squealed before she and Yunjin started chanting: Free booze! Free booze! 

You sighed, thinking of Heeseung and shook your head again. That dress, though beautiful, hadn’t been enough for him to lose all composure and skip the party in favour of fucking you into the mattress, and you didn’t love the idea of guys that weren’t him ogling you all night. “Anything but that dress.” 

Yunjin and Chaewon seemed sad, but you were able to distract them by bringing out the disaster cocktail the oldest girl brewed earlier, pouring each of them half a glass and ordering an Uber to come and take them away. You promised them you’d go out next time, locking your pinkies with theirs and closing the door behind them. 

Alone in your room, with nothing but thoughts of Heeseung to keep you company, you called him. He answered right away. You can’t remember exactly what you said but you remember the soft sigh he let out when you said it. You could practically see him tilting his head, weighing his options. 

“I’m trying to get a paper finished, it’s due Monday,” he said finally. 

“But it’s Thursday.” 

“Yeah, and I want to have my weekend free. If you’re still up when I’m done, I’ll come over, okay?” 

You nodded. “Okay.” 

Heeseung hung up after that and you got out of bed to clean up, hoping the time would fly. It didn’t, but your flat was clean again so you pretended not to mind. 

He called you after midnight. “Do you still want me to come over?” he asked, breathless. 

“Please.” There was a knock on your door after you spoke and you mumbled hold on before going to check it. Warped by the peephole, you saw Heeseung standing there, holding his phone to his ear and playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hugged you when you opened the door, asking if you were okay. “Perfect,” you said, looking into his eyes. 

His pretty face scrunched up and he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers, turning his head. “Well, you smell like a distillery.”

Heeseung stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you brushed your teeth, grinning every time his eyes met yours in the mirror. Tell him now, you thought. You have to tell him now. Those thoughts nagged you as you gargled mouthwash, plagued you when you hugged him again and tortured you when he carried you to bed. 

He stiffened when kissed his jaw. “You can’t do that,” he mumbled, setting you down under the duvet. “Not now.” 

Then when? you wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just.. It’s okay.” 

Neither of you spoke after that, you made room for him on the bed and he lay down next to you, let you rest your head on his chest and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He was gone when you woke up in the morning but he left a glass of water and some paracetamol on your end table, along with a note. 

I had to go to class and you wouldn’t wake up :(  We’ll talk about everything soon, we have to. See you at Jake and Sunghoon’s later? 

— Your Hee. 

If you hadn’t been drunk he might have been okay with the kiss, he might have looked down at you and kissed you properly. You might have talked last night, fixed things—you’ve never regretted drinking so much in your life. 

Things are better tonight at least. You’ve been nursing the same can of cider since you arrived a few hours ago and Heeseung’s only had two sips of his beer, so hopefully, if you get some alone time, the two of you can finally talk. You’re still not sure what you should say, if you should apologise for waiting so long, for leaving in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, applying elsewhere. You didn’t even think you’d get in but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least take the chance. It seemed like a sign when the acceptance letter reached your inbox before the term had finished, an unconditional offer to a high-ranking university, you couldn’t pass it up. And knowing Heeseung as well as you did, you knew he’d do anything to be by your side when you needed him, you knew he’d drop everything to move with you if you let him. You’d owe him forever. It wouldn’t be fair on either of you. 

You called Jay in tears after a month away, telling him you made a mistake, that you needed to come back and had already filled out a transfer application. He convinced you to at least stay until the end of term, to actually make friends with the girls you were living with and see how you felt. A week later, he, Jake and Sunghoon showed up on your doorstep with chocolate and booze, hoping your room was big enough for all of them to stay for the weekend, it wasn’t, not really, but for three nights, the four of you slept head to toe in your bed after eating your body weights in pizza and ice cream. There was no talk of Heeseung, even though you begged them, and by the time they left, you felt much better. At the end of your first year, you quietly submitted your transfer application and shared a tearful goodbye with Yizhuo and Minjeong before finally flying back home. The boys seemed happy to have you back, even if it meant sneaking around to hang out with you—A nudge pulls you out of your thoughts, Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

When you look at him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. His eyes are brimmed with concern, wide and beautiful, a deep brown you’ll never get sick of. His lips are curved into a soft pout, a crease running along his brow that you want to smooth out. 

Heeseung relaxes a little when you nod, but he seems unconvinced. “You sure?” 

You reach up to poke his cheek, grinning when he turns his head, trying to fight a smile. “I’m good,” you say, pressing a dimple into his cheek anyway. 

He holds your finger in his hands, unclenching your fist and locking his fingers with yours. A wide grin stretches over your lips as you plead with your cheeks to stop burning. Jake’s hand interrupts the moment, falling from the couch, limp and curled into a fist that smacks the back of your head. He’s fast asleep, not stirring at all even when Heeseung laughs. 

Unfortunately, you lose rock, paper, scissors and have to wake Jake up. He shifts a little on the couch when you shake him, whining at you to stop and scrunching up his face at you. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually sigh, grabbing him by the arms and legs to carry him to bed. 

Both boys return, laughing about something and Heeseung sits down next to you again while Sunghoon leans in the doorway, yawning. “You two can have my room,” he says, cutting his eyes at you. “No funny business though, I just changed my sheets.” 

You chuckle nervously and Heeseung makes a show of hiding his face in the crook of your neck, much to Sunghoon’s visible dismay. He clutches the doorframe so hard you see his knuckles paling and uses his free hand to point a stern finger in your direction. “I mean it,” is the last thing he says before leaving. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung mumbles when the door closes. “It’s just so funny teasing him.” He’s grinning when he lifts his head and runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me about your group project.”

A sigh curls out of you, dramatic and loud as you let your head fall back against the couch at the thought of it. You brought it up in passing on Monday after class and spent the rest of the week pretending it didn’t exist. 

“Damn,” he mutters. “That bad?” 

You don’t have many friends in your Archaeology class, but you always look forward to it — because you’re covering Ancient Egypt — and enjoy it. But this morning, you slept in, arriving late, to find your lecturer assigning groups for a project weighing 25% of your final grade. She put the groups together based on where people were sitting, which left you, standing in the doorway fighting for breath, being added to a group of boys you shared a seminar with last term. They never contributed, and rarely showed up, constantly sending messages in the class Whatsapp group to ask if anyone had the tutorial answers. The sinking feeling that your project was doomed before it began plagued you throughout the lecture and all the way to lunch with Yunjin afterwards. Even though it doesn’t have anything to do with the story, you tell him in meticulous detail about your time with her that day. Thankfully, you’re sober so don’t admit that you spent a lot of the meal exchanging increasingly ridiculous ideas to get him back. 

Heeseung is just as beautiful and good at listening as always, nodding his head and uhm-ing and ah-ing at all the right parts. Until his gaze changes for a split second into something so soft and so sweet that it leaves a mark on your heart. “I was pissed about it earlier, but now I’m here, with you, and I want you to be my boyfriend again,” you say, jaw hanging open as soon as the words come out. 

His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Then his brows furrow, pushing a crease into his forehead. 

“I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.” You start running damage control and pray that Jake or Sunghoon will wake up and come back. “I really didn’t mean to say that, especially not now when we haven’t talked about everything. But you looked at me, Heeseung. You really looked at me just now and I can’t pretend I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, really, but it’s your fault I said that.” 

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you say something now?” you ask, mumbling into the heels of your palms. 

All he says is your name and a pit forms in your stomach. “God, anything but that,” you groan. 

Heeseung chuckles, which you think is a good thing. “Would it be better if I called you baby?” 

“In what context?” 

Holding your breath, you watch as he presses his lips together, humming as he tilts his head. “Term of endearment between a girlfriend and her boyfriend.” 

You lift your head, separating your fingers to see him properly through the space and the pit in your stomach dissolves into something live, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy from the look on his face. The gentle curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the slight flush on his cheeks all make your head spin. 

“Really?”

Heeseung nods so hard his hair follows the movement. “Yes, baby.” 

“Can we kiss now?” 

“Maybe if you move your hands out of the way.”

“I don’t like maybe.”

“Definitely if you move your hands out of the way,” he corrects. 

You can’t bring yourself to move, worried that the sudden motion might disrupt something, might knock you out of the moment. Heeseung laughs, so softly it sounds like an exhale, as he takes your wrists in his hands, tugging gently. With your face in full view, his eyes flit over your features for a beat before he cups your cheek in his hand, dragging his thumb over the soft skin of your lips. 

You don’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips touch yours. There’s a rush of something in your chest, an intense warmth surrounding your heart. His lips are softer than ever, gentle as he kisses you like you might break—you think you might. Nothing is better than this, better than having Heeseung’s lips on yours after all this time. You lean into him completely, pressing your body impossibly close to his and twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you,” he whispers, barely pulling away. “I love you so much.” 

You can’t bring yourself to reply, emotions too close to the surface, tears too close to spilling. Instead, you smile into the kiss, somehow holding him closer and hoping he’ll understand. He pulls back, just enough to gaze into your eyes with a look of pure affection. He doesn’t press for words, a reassuring smile tugging his lips. 

He understands, Heeseung always understands. 

Sunghoon’s sheets are soft against your skin when you wake up, tickling your nose with the scent of detergent and Heeseung’s shampoo—fresh and light. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands as Heeseung watches you with a soft smile, eyes scanning your features, taking you in. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there and his eyes flick up to meet yours. You feel like a teenager, a giddy smile gracing your lips, giggles tumbling out at the tickly feeling of lovestruck butterflies rumbling in your stomach. Heeseung beams, nuzzling into the touch of your hand as his eyes flutter shut. 

“If we’re going to work out this time—I want us to work out, but we need to talk,” you say after a beat. 

Heeseung’s brows raise like he can’t believe what you’re saying, his lips pushing into a pout. “We are going to work out, of course we’re going to work out.” His voice is still raspy from sleep, a deep hoarseness that’s too sexy for the cute way he’s chewing on his lip, doe-eyed and sweet as his eyes scan your face.

“I know, baby, I want that.” You nod, using your hand to push his hair out of his face. It’s so long now it’s starting to cover his eyes, the soft blond strands curling into his eyelashes. “But you have to say no to me, you know? I want you to have a life of your own, we both should.” 

“No.” 

“No?” You press your eyes shut, sighing. “What do you mean, no?” 

“I’m starting now.” 

“I’m serious, Hee, this is serious.” 

He pouts for a second before nodding. “I’m serious too. I can say no to you, I will say no to you.” 

You can’t help your scepticism, raising your brow at him as you inspect his face. There’s nothing about his expression that suggests he’s not being serious, nothing in those huge eyes seeming insincere. But you know Heeseung, you’ve been with Heeseung, and you know better than anyone, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with you, so you have to ask. “So from now on, if I text you when you’re in class or out with friends, and I tell you I want to see you, what are you going to do?” 

Heeseung sighs. “I’m going to text back and say that I’m.. busy.” His lips curl into a frown. “My heart will be super heavy though.” 

“But you’ll do it? You won’t see me until you’re free?” 

“I’ll do it, I won’t leave or anything.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yeah, baby, I promise.” When you smile at him, Heeseung leans in to seal his promise with a kiss, his lips meeting yours softly. 

You flinch when the door opens and Heeseung chuckles against your lips, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. Over his head, you see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, hair dripping water on the floor with a towel wrapped around his hips. 

Sunghoon sighs, loud and dramatic, his head falling back. “I specifically said no funny business,” he mutters. “Quit looking at me.” He comes into the room and lifts the duvet over your heads. 

Under the covers, Heeseung pulls away, poking his head out and laughing. “We’re just kissing.”

“Yeah, with your shirt off. Why is your shirt off?”

“She wanted to wear—”

Sunghoon cuts him off with a gasp, pulling the duvet back. “Wait, why are you kissing?”

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” 

The word makes your cheeks burn and you hide your face in Heeseung’s chest. His lips find the top of your head, kissing you as he wraps his arms around you. 

Sunghoon groans at the sight. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he says. “Who else knows?”

“Just you so far.”

You can hear Sunghoon grinning when he drops the duvet back over your heads and shuffles around the room, getting ready for skating. Heeseung calls you cute and holds you closer. “I’ve missed you so much, missed this,” he mumbles into your hair. “I love you.”

Dating Heeseung again is better than anything you could have imagined, even if it has only been two weeks. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and even the simple things he does make you smile so hard your face aches. Like when he picks up snacks for you after class or sends you pictures of sweet things he wrote about you in his old diary. Chaewon and Yunjin comment that you seem happier, that you’re glowing, and you can’t help the giggles that always escape and the flush that burns your cheeks when you mention your boyfriend, Heeseung.

Even under the pressure of taking on a group project by yourself, you find yourself fighting a grin in the library just thinking about him. Your class finished an hour ago and you’re doing research in the computer lab while waiting for him so you can go back home together. With a crease in your brow, you try to make sense of conflicting articles on the origin of the Great Pyramid of Giza, happy when your phone lights up with a text. 

hee: we should go on a date tonight !!! how does the fair sound? 

you: sounds good :D 

hee: ❤️

As if sensing that plans have been made without him, Sunghoon sends a message to the group chat asking who wants to go to the Spring Fair in the city centre tonight. 

you: hee and i are alr going :/

sunghoon: awesome i can meet u at hee’s in a few hours?

You really can’t find the heart to tell Sunghoon it’s a date so you decide not to say anything, only feeling worse when Jay replies. 

jay: sounds good :D 

hee: it’s a date dumbass, you’re not invited.

sunghoon: ok.. i can still go

jake: time?

With your date set and whatever else the boys are planning in the group chat, you manage to finish up your work in time for Heeseung to show up with a grin on his face as you pack up your notebook. Excitement stirs in your stomach when he locks his fingers with yours and you’ve never looked forward to the sticky heat of a night in spring as much as you are right now. 

“How was class?” you ask, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung grins at you, swinging your hands between your bodies as you weave through tables to leave the library. “Turns out I focus really well when you’re not sitting with me.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip. 

“I can sit with other people if it’ll help you focus.” 

“No!” he whines, loud enough to draw side eyes from the students around you before the tips of his ears burn red and he pulls you out of the library at lightspeed. 

When you reach his flat, Jay’s sitting on the couch grinning at something on his phone, so distracted he doesn’t even realise you’ve arrived until you sit down next to him. He’s got a lot to say about his mock trial and tells you everything, all while you’re cuddled up to Heeseung, with your head on his shoulder. 

You blink and the sun’s gone down, Jay isn’t around anymore and Heeseung’s arms are around your waist, holding you close. “Hey,” he says when you stir. “The boys left already, you just looked so cute sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.” 

There’s a wet patch on his sweater where your mouth was that you try to wipe away. It doesn’t budge. And a burning flush attacks your cheeks and neck when Heeseung uses his thumb to wipe some of the drool by your mouth. “So cute.” He chuckles. “Should we get going?” 

You spend the whole journey to the city centre with your hand in Heeseung’s, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach every time he smiles at you. It’s weird. To have been with him for so long, yet still feel giddy when he looks at you. This is new though, you suppose, to live away from home and see him whenever you want. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder and you can’t help the grin on your face at the thought of spending infinite nights like this, with him. 

The Spring Fair is alive with laughter and squeals of delight that you can hear from around the corner. Winking lights spill onto the pavement in rapid succession, somehow showing the whole spectrum at once. Heeseung is bursting with excitement, running down the street with you in tow, desperately trying to keep up with his stride and regulate your breathing. His eyes are huge when you reach the gates, scanning the area for the churros he’s been talking about for the entire walk and he gasps when he sees the stall, pulling you along with him. You have to weave through the crowd, dipping and dodging tired locals and excited tourists as you call out apologies to everyone Heeseung bumps into. The first night is always packed like this, so full it’s hard to believe the fair runs for six whole weeks. 

You share a heart-shaped churro and pose for the photos he wants to take, your heart swelling with affection as you pretend to be embarrassed when he buys matching character headbands for you both. Two years ago, Heeseung would’ve told you that headbands aren’t a good use of your money and bought them anyway, but today, he spent fifteen minutes trying on and taking photos with each character before finding the perfect pair. You can’t help but grin as he puts the headband on for you, a sense of excitement blooming inside you, so great it’s overwhelming.

Heeseung buys a blue raspberry slushy in an obnoxiously large reusable cup with two straws, and as he clutches his head with each brain freeze, chuckles pour out of you, only increasing when he pouts. 

At every opportunity, the two of you take selfies, and the grin on his face in each one warms your heart. He posts his favourite to his story, showing you all the compliments he’s getting in his DMs, all aimed at you. He seems so proud and excited to be with you, and butterflies go mad in your stomach as he reads some of them out to you, agreeing with and adding to the messages.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. I think I might delete the picture,” he says, frowning as the story replies pour in. 

The look on his face makes you laugh, struggling to talk but trying anyway. “But I love it.” 

Heeseung puts his phone away, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I love you,” he says, using his free hand to tip your chin towards him. He grins when you say it back, tracing his thumb along your jaw. An odd stillness hits you, in the midst of vibrant chaos. Flashes of multi-coloured LEDs dance in orange and purple strobes over his face and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are pretty and wide, flicking from your eyes to your mouth a few times as a flame starts to burn in your stomach, low and scorching. 

“I love you,” you repeat, tip-toeing to close the gap. 

You kiss him, slow and sweet to savour the sugary taste on his lips as they move against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and the taste of syrupy artificial fruit, leaving you craving more, craving him. A pop goes out in the air and you flinch in Heeseung’s arms. He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away, looking up. Trails of pink and gold paint the sky above, vibrant sparks spreading everywhere as a few more go off. If you weren’t so busy trying to catch your breath, you might appreciate their beauty, but you are and the next pop only startles you too. 

Heeseung looks down at you, his slightly swollen lips curving into a grin. “How are you so cute?” he coos. “And don’t most people want fireworks to go off when they kiss someone?” 

“It’s probably a sensation thing, Heeseung.” You know it’s a sensation thing. The first time he kissed you, it felt like you were floating on air, as if Sunghoon’s basement, cold and dark, was the most romantic place on Earth. You were sweaty and nervous, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Heeseung while the boys were sleeping. He was the one to lean in and he kissed the tip of your nose by accident.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come here.” His voice is so deep and raspy that it spurs the flame on, burning higher, hotter, until it’s the only thing you can think about. His hand finds your jaw again, pulling you towards him to kiss you. Of course, you can’t resist; he’s Heeseung. 

The kiss is rife with neediness, whether from you or Heeseung you can’t tell, but you’re tugging at his hair and he’s clutching at your t-shirt, both of you struggling to get enough of the other. You nip at his bottom lip with your teeth and a heady sigh falls from his mouth into yours, brewing a storm in your mind, a thick fog obscuring everything but thoughts of him.

At the sound of a forced throat clearing, you break away from Heeseung, seeing an elderly lady with a steaming cup in her hand and a disgruntled look on her face. She extends an arm, gesturing behind you. When you follow the direction of her hand, you see a bench that you’re standing right in front of. Heeseung grabs your hand, mumbling an apology and tugging you as far away as possible. You struggle to stifle a laugh at the redness of his ears against his hair. 

A huge ride swings and spins into the air, catching your attention, though Heeseung seems to be more interested in the way Jake stands by the entrance with a scowl on his face. Jake waves you over when he sees you, grinning and hugging you both like it’s been years since he saw you. 

“Jay and Hoon are..” he trails off, using his arm to vaguely gesture towards the sky. 

“Man,” Heeseung whispers, pointing a reverent finger to the sky, “R.I.P.” 

Countless fireworks shoot up noisily, painting the dark sky, and Heeseung’s arms fall heavily around your shoulders, his body warm against your back. If not for the way Jake’s flinching next to you, covering his ears with his hands and ducking slightly at the bang of each one, it might feel like the two of you are alone in the moment. Alone despite the chatter, the laughter and squeals. Just you and Heeseung. 

And Jake. 

Heeseung is amazing at fair games, especially the ring toss. But a tired-looking man in a business suit wins the Hello Kitty plush you’d been eyeing for the snotty toddler wrapped around his leg, so you settle for the Kuromi plush instead. Heeseung says it’s cuter. You agree. 

His voice is soft when he asks, “Maybe we can go on the Ferris wheel later?” This is a far cry from the boy of sixteen who fainted at an amusement park just from seeing the drop on the biggest ride there. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide, boring into you, holding the stars in his pupils with a grin across his blue-stained lips, and how could you say no to that face? 

The platform by the Ferris wheel is sticky under your shoes, making you cringe with every step you take towards the front of the line. Heeseung’s grip on your hand is tighter than you think it’s ever been when he realises that you’re next to get on. This might be the most scared you’ve ever seen him, your poor boyfriend with his overpriced Kuromi headband shivering beside you. 

You frown at the sight, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Hee,” you say.

He tries to play it cool, shrugging with a nonchalance that doesn’t match the fear in his eyes. “I want to,” he assures, though his voice lacks conviction. 

“Are you sure?” The way he flinches when the ride operator opens the gate gives you his answer, but Heeseung is firm in his words as he pulls you towards the cart, despite wincing when the operator locks you in. “Baby,” you whisper, touching his cheek. “It’s not too late to get out.” 

In what appears to be a display of his bravery, he makes a show of rocking the carriage — only to be told off by the operator (who can’t be older than sixteen) — and cheering (with no conviction) about nothing in particular. You can’t help but laugh, the cart shaking slightly as you let your head fall back and you only laugh harder when Heeseung gasps because of it. 

He flinches again when the ride starts moving, an unsettling creak sending you forward just enough to allow the next victims — according to Heeseung — to get on the ride. When the last of them board, the wheel sets off in a slow spin and he spends the entire first rotation with his eyes clamped shut, only opening them after a while when he thinks the ride is over. 

The wheel creaks more than what you think is necessary and he only grows more and more outwardly uncomfortable, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and gripping the safety bar above your laps until his knuckles turn white. 

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?” you coo, holding your left hand out to him. 

He rolls his eyes but takes your hand in his, holding it between his palms. Seemingly at ease, Heeseung shifts slightly in his seat to close the tiny gap between you, pressing his knee into yours. 

Even in the distance, the fair’s LED lights are beautiful, melting away into flashing bokeh before your eyes as the carriage inches higher and higher. You almost forget your company, leaning over the edge to get a better look, only for Heeseung to put his arm on your arm, mumbling, “Stop it.” 

His skin is warm despite the slight chill that comes with your increasing altitude, and you wish the carriage was smaller—cramped even, forcing the two of you together so tightly that you have no choice but to become one. You sit in the quiet of the night, excitement on the fairground growing quieter as the wheel spins, agonisingly slow, until eventually it’s just the two of you—you and Heeseung: the only people in the moment. 

The only people in the world.

“Why are we even on this thing?” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders as gently as he can manage so as not to rock the carriage. His eyes are big when he looks at you, holding your gaze intently. “I wanted to be romantic.” 

Oh, Heeseung, you think, pressing your lips into a frown. He’s the sweetest person in the world and just the thought of it makes your stomach flutter. “You’re plenty romantic,” you say sincerely. 

He scoffs. “Yeah, because pretending you didn’t exist for a year is romantic.” 

“Yes! Very!” You chuckle, nodding your head. 

Again, he rolls his eyes at you but he uses his hand to hold your face, pulling you in. His kiss tastes like candy floss and the blue raspberry slushy you shared earlier, lips soft, relaxed against your own. Your hand reaches for his thigh, meeting instead with the squished plushy between your bodies and you can’t help but laugh. 

With your presentation out of the way, you and the guys are all sitting in Heeseung and Jay’s living room for the first night of Spring break. You’ve just about reached your limit, cuddling into Heeseung’s side with your eyes closed, sleepily listening to the conversation. It’s unintelligible, more laughter and wheezes than anything else. 

You shift your way into Heeseung’s lap after a while, moving around to get comfortable. It only takes two movements for him to grab you by the waist, holding you still. You try again, and his lips catch the shell of your ear. “Relax, baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you admit, moving around again until he sighs, relieved, you think. A wicked grin spreads over your lips when you feel him getting hard, grinding down on him a little and liking the warmth that spreads in your stomach from having him pressed against you. 

“Stop it,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear. 

You heed the warning but can’t help the thoughts filling your mind, though you try to ignore them, laughing at something Sunghoon said about Jake’s ugly hat and shoes. Jake doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of you seem to.

Another hour passes by in the same way before the boys stumble into Jay’s room, calling out a slurred goodnight to you and Heeseung on the couch. You stand up first, holding out a hand for him to take and giggling when he presses a kiss to the back of it. 

In his room, he stares at a spot on the wall as you close the door, a contemplative look on his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, but he doesn’t look at you, only nodding his head with a crease along his brow. 

You kiss him, a featherlight touch of your lips against his. It’s soft for a while, sweet and sincere until he clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. Heeseung’s hands are all over you, stroking and squeezing every part of you he can reach. Overwhelming heat burns your skin under his touch. He inhales sharply through his nose when you reach for his waistband, tugging the drawstring free but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He keeps kissing you, keeps trying and frowns when you pull away. 

“You don’t want this?” 

He tilts his head, looking down at you with concern flooding his wide eyes. “Do you think we’re going too fast?” His voice is quiet and he chews on his lip after speaking. 

“We’ve been together for six years.” 

“A month,” he corrects, looking at his feet.

As badly as you want him, you don’t want him doing anything he’s not ready for, so you wiggle your arm free from his grip, dropping it at your side. He lifts his head to look at you, brows knitted together, the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “I just don’t want us doing anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this, I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Heeseung,” you say, holding his face in your hands. 

He closes his eyes, nodding. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“Never,” he whispers and the word has you falling to your knees. 

It’s hard to see his exact expression in only the dim glow of the streetlights outside, but you can clearly see the way he’s watching you. The way his eyes are lidded as he chews on his bottom lip, watching you reach for the buckle on his belt. Heeseung threads his fingers through your hair, groaning, and for a few seconds, you’re hypnotised. Too wrapped up in tipsiness and lust to move your fingers, completely focused on the way his breath starts to pick up before you’ve even done anything. You’re starting to think it might be enough for him just to see you like this, on your knees for him, wide-eyed and eager. 

Whether on purpose or not, Heeseung tugs on your hair gently, pulling you from your trance. His blunt fingernails scratch at the back of your head as you undo his belt, tugging his jeans down. He steps out of them as soon as he can, smiling when you toss them behind you. Too worked up to wait, you push your face against him. You take a minute to hold his covered cock between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of the damp spot at the top of it. Heeseung grunts, bucking his hips. He looks like sin when you lock eyes with him, licking a strip to the top of his waistband, sucking and nipping at the skin and coarse hair there. 

“Quit teasing,” he says, still keeping control of his voice. 

You blink up at him sweetly, shaking your head. “I’m not,” you mumble, pulling his underwear down. 

Heeseung’s dick smacks his stomach with a wet sound that makes you clench around nothing, and you sit back on your heels to admire him. Maybe it’s from time, or your unbearable desire, but he looks bigger, thicker, and much prettier than you remember. When you finally drag your eyes from his dick, you notice a mark on his hip, right above where his thigh starts. It’s a smudge of something dark, inky almost. You furrow your brows, licking the pad of your thumb to try and get rid of it. He practically flinches when you touch it, moving away from you. The increased distance between you and the low lighting only further obscures it—when you rub at the mark it doesn’t budge. 

“What is this?” 

“It’s nothing,” he says, sitting down on the bed and covering it with his hand. 

If it was anyone other than Heeseung, you might have thought it was a tattoo, but you can’t make sense of the thought so it slips your mind as soon as it occurs. You reach for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on, losing your breath at the sight of his skin glowing golden in the light, and the tip of his cock is a tempting, glossy red. You can’t help but take him in your hand, stroking him slowly. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“It’s a bruise,” he manages through a gasp, licking his lips.

Your thumb swipes over his slit and he crumbles. “Heeseung.” 

“Butterfly, it’s a butterfly.” 

A fuzzy warmth starts to bloom in your chest, overwhelming you. “Lay down,” you say, voice as soft as it’s ever been. 

Heeseung obliges, linking his fingers with yours when you move his hand from his thigh. Under the light, you can see it clearly, dark strokes of ink forming a pretty butterfly, tiny, and heart-achingly familiar. 

“Is it..” You trail off, moving your lips around words that you can’t get out as tears sting your eyes. “Did I draw this?” Leaning over him, you get as close as you can, using your finger to trace the shape. 

Sitting up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a worried look on his face as he nods. “Do you hate it?” 

“I love it.. it’s perfect.” You let go of his hand, using the back of your fingers to wipe at your eyes. 

Heeseung sits up, letting his hand cup your cheek and looking at you. He uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears you missed before leaning down and kissing you. His lips move slowly with yours, he’s being gentle, so gentle that you hear your heart thudding in your ears. 

“Come sit,” he mumbles against your mouth, helping you up and guiding you into his lap, a whine falling out of him when you sit on his cock and you mumble an apology that you don’t mean.

“When did.. Why did you..”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “My first birthday I spent without you. I just wanted to have something for you.”

You’ve seen it and you’ve heard it from him, but you still can’t make sense of it. “But you’re.. you’re Heeseung. You’d never get a tattoo, you told me that.” 

“I’ll probably never get another tattoo, it hurt like hell,” he says, frowning. 

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You cradle his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes, your sweet Heeseung. So different yet so incredibly similar. “You’re, like, obsessed with me.”

There’s a loud adoration in his eyes that makes your stomach turn. “How could I not be?” His smile is wide even though his lips are smushed a little by the way you’re holding his face. 

Heeseung tilts his chin towards you so you kiss him, the two of you passing moans and whines between your mouths as you grind on him, his hands gripping your waist under your shirt. He shudders under you, rutting his hips against yours with a groan. He’s harder than ever underneath you, his cock hot between your thighs, pressed up against your core in the most maddening way. It can’t be comfortable for him, the friction from your underwear but he seems like he’s enjoying it just as much as you, maybe more, you think, when he starts throbbing. 

Conscious of the boys across the hall, you try your best to be quiet, though Heeseung doesn’t share your concern, his lips parting too wide to keep kissing you and his head falling back as he lets a whine out into the air. His nails dig into your skin, hips speeding up more than you can keep up with as he trembles, clearly so close to the edge that you moan at the sight of him all fucked out in front of you. You chew on your lip, watching his whole face scrunch up before falling to your shoulder, his cum leaking out all over your panties and the tops of your thighs. A grin covers your lips while your pussy aches from the heat of his release and the feeling of his staggered breath hitting your skin. When he finally sits up, sweat slicks the column of his neck and chest, a nervous look in his eyes that he can’t quite bring to meet yours. 

“This is j—” Heeseung cuts you off by covering your mouth with his palm. 

“I remember. You don’t have to say it, baby, I remember.” 

“You were so cute that day,” you say when he moves his hand. Butterflies fill your stomach when you think about it, the first time you ever did anything with each other, with anyone. He was fifteen, with cute round glasses perched on the end of his nose and teeth too big for his mouth, finishing in his jeans with you in his lap.

“You don’t think I’m cute anymore?” he asks, frowning. 

“You’re always cute.”

Heeseung grins at your words, so wide and sweet your heart races. He kisses you gently and slips his hand into your underwear, his finger trailing the length of your pussy slowly, groaning into your mouth at how wet you are. You whine into the kiss when he strokes your clit and gasp when he pushes a finger into you easily. Gradually, he adds more fingers, fucking you open on his knuckles and watching as you fall apart.

His lips move from yours, falling to your neck so he can kiss and suck the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good, baby. My sweet girl,” he mumbles, breath searing your skin. The words make you clench, your stomach fluttering relentlessly as he uses his thumb to press on your clit, the pressure enough to make you spiral. It’s all too much too fast and before long, you’re squirming and mewling in Heeseung’s arms, finishing all over his fingers. 

Immediately, an excruciating flush burns every inch of your body as you hide your face in his neck to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and he whispers sweet nothings into your hair while stroking your back.

Ever since that night in his room, all your senses feel heightened when Heeseung is around. 

And it doesn’t help that you spend every waking moment with him. Whether in his flat or yours, you’re joined at the hip and it’s near impossible not to pounce on him. In your stomach blooms a heat you haven’t felt in years. An all-consuming flame that makes you hold your breath when he cuddles you; makes you look away when he strips before showering.

He’s taken a liking to shirtlessness, only seeming to remember that the garments exist when he has to leave the house—which isn’t often now that classes have ended. This sudden cotton allergy plagues you, burning the image of his ever-increasing muscle definition and the tattoo on his hip into your memory, so deeply they’re the only things you see when you close your eyes at night. 

Even when Heeseung’s being romantic, cooking dinner for the two of you and almost burning his finger with a match while lighting a candle, you’re thinking about him fucking you. When he goes out with the boys and stumbles into your flat, drunk, with a crushed bouquet in his hands, you’re thinking about what might have happened if you’d gone out too. If he’d finger you in the back of a taxi or take you against the door when you got back. 

Weeks go by like this until you finally reach your limit. 

There’s nothing overtly sexual about the way Heeseung’s sitting. About the way his lashes kiss his cheeks when he blinks, or the way his hair sits in a sleepy mess on his forehead. But it’s Heeseung. So these things existing on him drive you crazy. 

Given the lack of privacy in your family homes — by way of an open-door rule when visiting each other — you and Heeseung didn’t have many opportunities to have sex that didn’t involve being tangled around one another in the backseat of his car. And even those occasions were few and far between. 

With the only three brain cells that seem to function around your shirtless boyfriend and your head on the doorjamb, you begin to scheme. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just a way to get Heeseung to fuck you without you having to bring it up. 

“What’s up, baby?” he asks, finally looking over at you. His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, with a raspiness to it that makes your thoughts run wild. From head to toe, his eyes drag over your body, his tongue coming out to run over his lips. 

Clearly, a very delicate, well-timed conversation is in order and the gears in your mind scrape against each other, turning egregiously as you try to figure out how to start the conversation. “I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out. Not the most delicate approach, but the way Heeseung’s eyes widen suggests you might be on the right track. “I didn’t mean to say that,” you admit sheepishly. 

He chuckles deeply in a way you haven’t heard in years. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a challenge in his question, evident from his raised brow, the setting aside of his phone, and the way he sits up straight. The movement forces the duvet to slip a little, falling from above his belly button to his hips in one fell — effortlessly sexy — swoop. 

In spite of this, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. How could you be standing there, in nothing but his t-shirt, asking him to fuck you and he’s caught up on semantics? “That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“What are you saying?” When you don’t say anything, Heeseung lifts the duvet from his body entirely, grinning when your gaze locks on his hips. His pyjama pants are sitting low enough to show off the waistband of his underwear, and they don’t do anything to hide the way his hard cock pushes against them.

Heeseung towers over you, overwhelming you and the space of the doorframe as his mouth quirks up at one corner. “You want it, baby?” he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hand, using his thumb to trace your lips. 

His face dips down to yours and you can’t resist reaching up to kiss him, whining at the contact as you move your lips in sync with his. The sounds he’s making are dizzying, deep groans you feel in your chest. His hand grips your waist, pulling you as close as possible so you can feel him, hard and thick, pressing against you. 

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing his kiss, but Heeseung only chuckles. “Say the word and I’m yours,” he whispers, looking down at you with those big eyes. 

“I’m not going to beg.” 

He smiles sweetly, a soft curve of his lips summoning butterflies. “Suit yourself,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck and leaving the room. 

Flustered, you follow him, flinging your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “Okay, I’m going to beg.”

“I’m listening.” 

“I need you,” you mumble into his skin. 

“You have me.” 

Even though his words and the way his lips audibly split into a grin make your heart race, you can’t help your frustration. “Heeseung,” you say, pleading with him. 

He frees himself from your grip, turning around. When you look up at him, he’s watching you closely through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a soft pout that makes your heart melt. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close enough to feel him pressing against you. “I’m all yours, baby. What’s up?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

This makes him smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not.” 

“Please.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm. “Please what?” 

“You know what I need and I can’t go any longer without it,” you mumble into his hand. Heeseung only raises a brow and you sigh. Somehow, your want for him is greater than your embarrassment so you sigh, looking him in the eye. “If you want to, please, please, fuck me, Heeseung. Any way you want, baby, just promise me you’ll do it. I need it, need you.” 

A shit-eating grin takes over his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Was that so hard?” he asks, frowning when you don’t reply. “Don’t get all moody, baby, talk to me.” 

Heeseung picks you up, holding you close as you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of his hands are spread over your ass and you’re too embarrassed to say anything, chewing your lip and staring at the little mole on his forehead. 

“Need me to fuck you ‘til you can talk again?” There’s a roughness to his voice that makes your cheeks flush, but you can’t help but laugh, head falling back in a fit of cackles. 

“What are you talking about?” 

His pretty lips come together in a pout before he speaks. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning red as he carries you to his room, using his foot to close the door behind him. “I’m rusty.”

You shake your head before kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Heeseung sets you down on the bed gently, crawling over you. “I like seeing you in my shirts,” he says, clutching the fabric in his fists, tugging a little. 

“Someone has to wear them.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “What?” He tilts his head, leaning away from you to sit back on his heels. “You don’t like seeing me like this?” 

It’s hard to find a balance between missing his warmth and looking at his body. Staring at the definition that marks his chest and stomach and the way his muscles stick out over his biceps, you can feel yourself leaking at the sight of him. Your eyes catch on his waistband, on the strip of hair that’s cut off by the start of the fabric before falling to the bulge in his pants. 

“You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal,” he mumbles, leaning back over you with a deep flush on his cheeks and neck.

“I think I want you to be.” 

“You think?”

You nod eagerly, anticipation swirling in your stomach. 

“Anything I can do to make you certain?” Heeseung’s voice is thick with something you think could be enough to make you finish. 

“Whatever you want,” you say, desperate. 

He chews on his lip, considering you for a while before kissing your cheek. Once more, he sits up, tugging at your waist. “First, I want this shirt out of my way,” he says with a smile. 

Immediately, you lean off the bed to let him take it off, tossing it behind him. “Anything else?” 

Heeseung’s too busy staring to speak, taking you in hungrily with a jarring combination of lust and adoration behind his eyes. You thought you’d feel shy about him seeing you after so long, but you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life as he reaches down to lock his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You’re so pretty,” he says against your skin. 

There’s no stopping the flutter in your stomach or the smile that spreads over your lips. You tell him you love him and he says it back as he leans back down to kiss you slowly, his tongue licking into your mouth at an agonising pace, a line of saliva connecting you to him when he pulls away. 

“I want to get my head between your legs,” he mumbles, letting his hand dip between your spread thighs. “So wet already?” he asks, dragging your slick up to your clit, rubbing it with a featherlight touch that leaves a whine slipping from your lips. “Will you let me?” 

You nod. 

Heeseung smiles and you match it before he dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there for a minute. His breath and wet mouth are hot, burning a trail down to your collarbone and chest, where he gets distracted, pulling one of your nipples between his lips.

Your stomach twists at the sight of him, his pretty, pouty lips sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, the way he’s moaning against you, using his thick fingers to tug and pinch your other breast. It takes him a while to move on but you don’t complain, even when he presses tickly kisses to your stomach. 

When he reaches your legs, he gets off the bed, kneels on the floor and hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you towards him. You feel exposed when he uses his thumbs to spread you, staring at your pussy with wide eyes, his lips parted a little until his head falls back with a groan. 

“Missed this pussy. Been thinking about it so much, all the time. So beautiful, baby.” He manages to drag his gaze from between your legs to lock eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” His lips touch your thighs, kissing the soft skin there, sucking marks into it and biting softly. The sting is subtle but it makes you clench, a movement that isn’t lost on him. “You’re so needy, huh? You want me that bad?” he asks, looking up with a tilted head. 

You mumble the word ‘no’ and shake your head. “Need you.” The words come out of their own accord, nothing more than a desperate whine that makes Heeseung press his eyes shut. You watch as he shifts on the floor, leaning in and giving you the attention you deserve. 

Heeseung’s nose grazes your slit and you gasp at the sudden contact, flinging your head back into the pillows when he licks a strip from there to your clit, giving it a quick peck. 

You card your fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands so hard it must hurt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, going slow despite the way you’re trying to rut against his face. He kisses the spot above your clit, his tongue poking out to lick at the skin there, only hitting the bud a few times and the anticipation is enough to make you spiral. 

Time stands still, all concept of it demolished when, finally, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, running his tongue over it with a pressure that leaves you shaking against the sheets. Moans pour out of you like water from a faucet with nothing but pleasure and Heeseung’s sweet mouth crossing your mind. 

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever going to stop, only coming up for air for a brief moment before sticking a finger into you and attaching his mouth to your clit, burying himself in your wetness. The stretch is minimal, barely registering in the waves of pleasure crashing over you, until he adds a second finger, thick and rigid as he works you open for him. By the time his third finger enters, you have to pull him away by his hair, struggling to find the words to say and settling on a whiny cry of his name.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, face covered in slick that shines on his chin and nose, shoulders rising and falling heavily, but his fingers don’t let up, curling towards your belly button torturously slow.

“Want to cum with you inside.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Yeah?” 

“Uh-huh, and I don’t want you using a condom either, want you to fill me up.”

“Are you sure?” 

You nod. “I’m still on the pill and you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Heeseung wastes no time standing up from the floor, watching hungrily as you sigh at the emptiness, moving up on the bed. He uses his fist to pump his cock slowly, sighing when he drags his thumb over his tip. A beat passes before he grins, boyish and handsome while crawling over you again. His face softens and his eyes burn into yours as he cups your cheek in his palm. “You sure about this?” 

“I’m sure, Heeseung, you’re all I want,” you whisper, pecking his lips. 

“Me too.” 

He uses his free hand to reach for his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit and chewing on his lip. He lets his cock split your folds, grinding his length against you, rubbing your cunt with a wet sound that fills the room. Heeseung straightens up and you moan when he spits into his palm, stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. You hold your breath, bracing for the stretch and crying out when he pushes in. His head falls forward with a sigh, his hair tickling your forehead.

“I missed you,” he groans when he bottoms out, his thumb running over your lips. A moan slips out of him when you open your mouth, running your thumb over the pad of his finger and sucking on it. “Missed these pretty lips, this pussy. Don’t know how I got on without it.” His words and the feeling of him inside after so long only make you dizzy, knowing that he wanted you like you wanted him. He watches you with parted lips, rocking his hips tenderly against yours. 

“Faster, Hee,” you whisper. “Harder.” 

Heeseung’s brows knit together and he slows to a pace that lets you feel single vein and inch of him as he bottoms out before pulling almost all the way out. “Can you take it?” he asks, a jarring tone to his voice that you think is a challenge. 

You nod desperately. “Please.” 

The word flips a switch for him and he speeds up, thrusting so hard, so deep that your back arches off the bed as his tip nudges your g-spot each time. Just when it all starts to feel too much, Heeseung lifts one of your legs, hitting deeper than he has before and tangling up a knot in your stomach. 

“You’re so good, baby, so good for me.” His eyes are dark and lidded, full of all the love in the world as he gazes into yours, a tangible love that overwhelms you, eating you alive along with his praise.

Sweltering heat stretches through every part of your body at the drag of him inside, the push and pull of his cock along your stuttering walls. It’s enough to make you shiver and a cry of his name rips out of you when he starts rubbing your clit again, pushing the bud in slow circles that make you screw your eyes shut. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, baby, make a mess,” he whispers and that’s as much as you can take. 

Stars flash behind your closed eyes as every single part of your body sets alight, dazed by Heeseung’s whines and the feeling of being full, finally being full, until both ends of the knot tug and tug, leaving you with nothing but a hoarse moan that dies in your throat as your orgasm hits you like a truck. 

A lewd squelch accompanies each of his thrusts as they get sloppier and sloppier, losing their rhythm and intensity. It seems like he’s right there with you though when he collapses on top of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his moans slipping out like music to your ears.

It’s hard not to fall apart under him, but you try your best, dragging your nails over the toned muscles of his back while telling him you love him over and over until he finishes. Both of you are trembling, fighting for breath and whining as Heeseung sloppily fucks you full of his cum. The sound is downright pornographic, loud and wet as your cum mixes with his for the first time in so long. An inexplicable intimacy so thick it hangs in the air, perching on your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. 

Heeseung slows down after a while, stopping completely but not pulling out yet, keeping you full and aching around him. When he catches his breath, he gives you a dreamy smile, thanking you before pressing soft kisses to every part of your face he can reach. 

You whine when he pulls out, missing him as soon as he’s gone. Despite your sensitivity, you want to beg him to come back, to slip back into you and stay forever, though Heeseung has other plans. He sits between your legs, dragging a lazy finger up your slit and watching with a smile as cum leaks out. You squirm against the sheets, pushing your head into the pillow when he uses two fingers to push it back in.

“Wish I could keep you full like this forever,” he mumbles absently, curling his fingers. 

All you can do is sigh happily. Long minutes go by until he takes his fingers out of you, reaching behind him for his shirt to wipe you up before leaning down to your face, mumbling against your lips to come and shower with him.

You’ve never showered with Heeseung before and a voice in your head tells you to press your cheek against the tile and let him have you again, but you’re way too sleepy for that. The warmth of the water and his big hands roaming your body do nothing to help, only forcing your eyes to fall shut as you lean back against Heeseung’s chest, willing yourself to stay awake. 

Once you’re all showered and clean, you only feel sleepier, standing on the plush bath mat in front of the steamed-up mirror. Droplets of water trickle down your skin and you can’t help but revel in the warmth of the room around you. Wrapped snugly in a soft, fluffy towel, you find yourself too tired to follow Heeseung out, slathering some of the expensive moisturiser Jay keeps in the bathroom over your skin. You peer into the mirror, though you don’t see much, and for a moment, it’s just you and the steady trickle of water from the showerhead. The bathroom smells like Heeseung’s minty shower gel and you miss him already, but you take your time anyway, savouring the moment and everything that came before it. 

You find him in his room when you’re done, tucking the last corner of a fitted sheet around his mattress. 

“You want to nap, baby?” he asks when he sees you, holding out a clean shirt for you to wear. 

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head and dropping the towel so he can put the shirt over your head. 

“Let me just fix the pillowcases, yeah?” 

You nod, slumping into his desk chair and watching the muscles in his back shift and flex as he moves around the room, dumping the dirty bedding into his laundry basket and slipping the clean linen over his pillows. He pulls the duvet back and pats the mattress, grinning when you shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction, 

Heeseung stretches his arms above his head and comes over to you but you stop him before he can pick you up. 

“I’m going grocery shopping with Yunjin later and I need a pound for the trolley, do you have any?” you ask through a yawn. 

He scratches his chin, thinking about it. “If I do, they’re in my wallet,” he says, reaching for it on the desk and handing it to you before taking a seat on the end of his bed. 

When you pull on the zipper to open the coin slot, you find a shiny pound coin and a folded piece of lined paper. You leave the coin where it is and hold the paper between two fingers for him to see. “What’s this?” 

Immediately, he hides his face with his hands but you can still see the flush on his ears. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, but despite your curiosity, you won’t look at it if he doesn’t want you to. “Sorry, baby,” you say, putting it back. “Forget I asked.” 

Heeseung sighs, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers. “You can look if you want, it’s nothing bad, just mildly humiliating.” 

Nervous anticipation settles over your body and you can’t help but laugh a little, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you unfold the crumpled and creased paper. It’s blank. You arch a curious brow at Heeseung, who, though still slightly embarrassed, gestures for you to turn it over. 

What meets your eyes on the other side leaves you stunned. There, inked in blue with delicate care yet bearing the natural imperfections of a hand-drawn butterfly, was a familiar image. It’s the very same butterfly you drew in your notebook on a spring date with him four years ago. Your fingers tremble as you trace the lines, your heart racing as you remember how he’d torn it from the page, eyes full of appreciation for the simple drawing. 

Tears well up in your eyes when it dawns on you. It’s the very same butterfly he has tattooed on his hip, a permanent reminder of your love that endured separation and time. 

Your voice is weak as you look up at him, quivering with emotion. “You kept it after all these years,” you whisper.

Heeseung smiles, his eyes full of love. “I never let go of what matters to me.” 

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #heeseung oneshots #heeseung imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.heeseung

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part two

firefighter!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

warnings: joel miller au, mentions of food / eating, literally so much tooth-rotting fluff it’s actually sickening, reader can sit on joel’s lap, mutual pining, kissing, dry humping, no use of y/n.

word count: 6.2k

synopsis: joel takes you on your first date with him.

a/n: special thank you to @punkshort for the meeting at the firehouse idea and for letting me ramble about the infinite ideas i have for this story in our dms. i appreciate the heck outta you

part one here

The summer sun gleamed on you as you made your way up to the firehouse he worked at. The big red doors were open and inviting, the shiny red trucks sitting perfectly still in the apparatus bay as you shyly stepped into the building. 

You carried a tray of cookies you made yourself, wanting to give it to the team as a thank you for being on the scene of your accident and getting you out safely. Well, they were mostly for Joel, Tommy, and the EMT’s. You weren’t able to see Joel in a few days and it drove you sort of crazy, so this was a perfectly good excuse. Joel would probably get teased by his coworkers again, and you’d probably get brought into the mix. It didn’t matter if it meant you got to see him.

It was odd, admitting that to yourself. You’d been single and alone for so long that you were used to the feeling of loneliness, but after meeting Joel, it genuinely sucked not being in his presence. You’ve only known the man for about a week, which made you feel even crazier for feeling this way. 

The way you felt around him was almost unexplainable. Light. Happy. You didn’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not, which you had to do more often than not with your job. 

Being around Joel Miller was like a tall glass of the purest, most refreshing water on Earth. 

“Hey miss, can I help you?” A kind voice snaps you back to reality. The man was wiping his hands with a dish rag, a small smile on his face as he eyed what you had in your hands. 

“Uh– yeah, actually, I came to drop these off for everyone. And uh– is Joel available?” 

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so shy. Maybe you were just worried as to what his coworkers would think about you coming to his job to ask to see him. 

The man had a knowing smirk on his face and nodded. 

“Ah, so you must be Miller’s mystery woman,” He laughs, jutting his chin up the steps. “He’s up there. Follow me.” 

Your face heats up from his words. Joel talks about you to them? 

You follow him up the stairs to the second floor where the lounge area and kitchen were. Many of them were gathered at the kitchen table while they ate, and a few others were playing a video game in the lounge area. 

“Hey Miller.” The man calls out, and first Tommy turns around with a piece of garlic bread hanging out of his mouth as he plates what looks like lasagna. You have to stifle a laugh at the confused look on his face, but then your heart skips a beat when your eyes land on Joel. 

He’s writing something down in a book, and he looks up at the man before his eyes flit to you. A grin spreads on his lips as you give him a shy smile and a small wave. He stands up from the table he was sitting at after capping his pen, making his way over to you. 

“Darlin’, this is such a nice surprise. Whatcha doin’ here?” He brings you into a hug, and catches himself refraining from giving you a kiss of any sort. He already got enough teasing from his coworkers and brother. 

“I made cookies for everyone. As a thank you, you know, for getting me out of that nasty accident.” 

His eyes soften at your words, eyebrows furrowing together as he takes the plate from your hand. 

“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you. I know these goons over here will devour these.” He motions his head to his coworkers behind him. 

You laugh as you look behind him, all of his coworkers' heads turned your way as they watch the interaction between you two. 

“You busy later tonight?” His voice drops a few octaves, setting the plate on the counter before he coaxes you to follow him downstairs again. 

“Nope. Just watching reruns of The Bachelor.” 

Joel quirks a brow at your show choice with a smile laced onto his lips. 

“Would you mind if I stopped by later? I feel bad I haven’t been able to see you.” 

“Don’t feel bad, Joel. I know you work odd hours,” You pause as he takes you into the locker rooms for some more privacy, away from prying eyes. “But of course you can come over. I’d love the company.” 

“Great. Maybe I can pick up some take-out and we can eat it at your place?” He’s hopeful with a sparkle in his eyes that makes your stomach flutter, once again. 

“Sounds great. I’ll text you the address when you get off work.” 

“I look forward to seein’ you. Y’know, away from nosey people.” He chuckles, referring to his coworkers. You admire the crinkle around his eyes when he smiles. 

“I look forward to it too, Joel,” You lean in and press your lips to his cheek. “I’ll see you later, cowboy.” You give him a wink before turning around to walk off, leaving him standing there with the goofiest grin plastered on his face. 

-

A few hours had passed by since you stopped off at the firehouse, and you were tidying up last minute things before Joel came over. 

You hadn’t had someone over at your place in a long time besides family, so a part of you wanted to impress him a little. 

He’d be over any minute now and you couldn’t stop your heart from racing. You don’t know what it was, but Joel just made you so nervous in the best way possible. You felt like a teenager all over again with a crush you’d giggle with your friends about—but in this case, it was your sister. 

Just as you finished fluffing up the last pillow on the couch, you heard a knock on your door. 

You checked through the peephole just to be sure it was Joel, and when you saw it was, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips. You open the door to him wearing more casual clothes, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his biceps really well, holding a bag of takeout in his hand. 

“Hey darlin’.” He greets you with a smile on his face, and you move aside to let him in. 

“Hey Joel.” You close the door after he’s in, locking the top lock before turning around to face him. 

“Where should I set up this gourmet feast?” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he holds up the bag of Chinese food. 

You huff a laugh and nod toward the dining room table. “There’s fine. Let me get some plates.” 

You make your way to the cabinets in your kitchen, pulling down two plates for the both of you before you turn around, only to be met with the close proximity of Joel. You gasp and look at him, biting your lip to keep from smiling. 

Goddamn teenager. 

“So, I figured out where I wanna take ya for our first date.” He starts, leaning against the counter.

“I thought this was our first date.” You blink, eyes shifting to the delicious smelling Chinese food sitting on your dining room table just waiting to be devoured. 

Joel snorts and crosses his arms, “You kiddin’ me? As much as I like bein’ in your company, this ain’t a date, darlin’. You deserve better than a half-assed plan to eat takeout and watch that one show you like.” 

You look down at your socked feet, having never really felt like a priority anytime you were involved romantically with someone. You barely even know this man and he’s already shown more effort toward you than some men of your past. 

“Baby, look at me,” Joel tilts your chin up again so your gaze meets his, and he gives you a soft smile that makes your insides absolutely melt. “As long as I’m around, I’m gonna make sure you feel important. It’s the least you deserve.” 

And you want to believe him, so fucking bad. There’s this stupid nagging voice in the back of your head telling you that what he’s saying isn’t true—you don’t deserve to feel important and being single was the best decision you could’ve made for yourself. 

You force those thoughts to drown for now, focusing on him and his gentle gaze. 

“Thank you.” You give him a small smile, and his hand moves to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb back and forth. 

“‘Course. But, I gotta get somethin’ off my chest before we take this whole datin’ thing any further.” 

You furrow your brows, and the way his gaze shifts to a pleading look makes you nervous. What could it possibly be? 

“I know this ain’t for everyone, and I understand if you don’t wanna see me anymore after this–” He pauses, lips twisting to the side as his eyes move to the ground, “But I really hope this doesn’t change what we got goin’ on. I really do like you, darlin’.” 

“What is it, Joel?” You can’t even concentrate on the sweet words that just oozed out of his mouth. Your stomach was coiling into an unwanted knot, endless possibilities of what he has to say in mind. 

“I have a daughter.” 

That’s what he was worried about? Oh. 

“Oh wow, that’s amazing, Joel. Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you after you told me this?” You’re the one reassuring him now, gently grabbing his face in your hands before swiping your thumbs over the stubble on his jaw. 

“You’d be surprised how many women have run for the hills after I’ve told them that.” A sad chuckle bubbles from his throat, and you lean forward to kiss his nose. 

“Not this one, cowboy.” 

-

Joel didn’t tell you a single thing about where he was taking you. All he told you was to dress comfortably for the hot weather and wear some walking shoes, so you opted for a tank top and jeans with rips at the knees and your comfiest shoes. 

You heard a knock on the front door of your apartment, and you eagerly checked the peephole before opening up the door. You grinned at Joel, but stopped short when you saw him wearing a Stetson. 

Fuck, he looked so good.

“Howdy.” He greets in true cowboy fashion, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your throat. 

“Howdy there, cowboy.” You flick the brim of his hat teasingly before grabbing your purse, locking up as you both head down to his truck. 

“So you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re heading to?” You ask once you’re both buckled in, and the truck roars to life. 

“You’ll see in a few minutes. Jus’ wanted to surprise you a little for our first… of hopefully many… dates.” He mumbles the last part under his breath, but your heart rate accelerates knowing he wanted to continue to see you. 

Soft tunes play within the confines of the cab of the truck and you look out of your window. It was all flatlands for a few miles, and then you both hit a bit of traffic, but you could easily see the huge ferris wheel from where you were at. 

You gasped as you sat straight in your seat, eyes shooting to Joel. “You’re taking me to the state fair?” You couldn’t contain your excitement. You absolutely loved the nostalgia the fair brought you, and you hadn’t been in a few years. 

“Mhm.” He says, tugging at his shirt collar with his index finger nervously. 

You grin and lean over the center console, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’m so excited.” 

Joel smiles at your words and reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“I’m glad. I was hopin’ you’d be into this idea. I know it’s not a traditional first date in any sense, but I gotta keep ya on your toes.” Joel winks at you, and you toss your head back with a laugh. 

“Miller, you’ve done that since the first words we spoke to each other at Rosemary’s. I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but I really do like you and it’s nice to be in the company of someone who actually puts thought into things like this. It means a lot.” 

“‘M glad you feel that way, darlin’. It means a great deal that you think so highly of me.” His tone is playful, but his words are sincere. 

“Only ‘cus you literally saved me from being trapped in my car. No biggie.” You huff a laugh, and he wraps his right arm around your shoulder to give your body a light shake. 

You both sit in a comfortable silence before making it to the parking lot. Once you find a parking spot, you  practically drag Joel to the ticket booth to purchase admission into the fair. He couldn’t help but laugh and admire your eagerness. 

“Okay,” He starts, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Where to first?” 

“I’m actually pretty hungry. Wanna start off with food?” You ask him, and he nods immediately. You link your hand with his, and he lets you keep your fingers interlocked, so you lead him toward the so-called food court of the fair. 

The array of smells coming from every which way had you practically salivating. You ended up getting some wings and fries with a side of fried pickles, while Joel got a turkey leg and blooming onion. 

You make your way to a table and settle in, diving into your food. You push your plate of fried pickles toward Joel, and he happily plucks a couple off the plate and pops them into his mouth. 

“I swear there’s nothing on this Earth like fair food.” He hums, shaking his head as he chews on another fried pickle. 

“Agreed,” You say, eating a couple of fried pickles yourself before you speak up again. “So, tell me about Sarah, if you’d like.” 

Joel’s eyes avert to yours at the mention of her name, and the biggest smile overtakes his features. His eyes crinkle in pure happiness and he’s elated that you want to hear about his baby girl. 

“She’s so charismatic. Most sure fourteen year old you’d ever meet,” He starts with a grin as he begins to gather all the intel about his daughter so he can tell you exactly what she’s like. “She’s so smart, n’ I’m not jus’ sayin’ that ‘cus I’m her dad, but she really does carry such intelligence. She’s witty, funny, sarcastic, and just so damn bright. She easily captivates a crowd in a room with her wit n’ charm, which she obviously gets from me.” Joel boasts with a proud look on his face before shooting you a wink. 

You can’t help but giggle at the way he jokes, but you deeply admire the way he talks about her. You can tell she’s his whole world and more, and seeing a father love his daughter as much as he does warms your heart immensely. 

Joel was starting to show his heart on his sleeve. It was like uncovering invisible ink inch by inch. 

“She sounds absolutely wonderful. I’m sure she keeps you on your toes.” 

“She absolutely does.” He can’t help the pride that blooms in his chest. Raising her as a single parent wasn’t easy, but he made do. He thought he did a pretty good job. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Sarah’s mom?” Joel gave you a sad smile, and maybe that wasn’t territory you should’ve crossed, you think. 

“She left shortly after Sarah was born. Didn’t wanna deal with bein’ a parent so young n’ all. I might’ve raised her all by myself, but her n’ I grew up together. She’s taught me endless love and so much patience.” 

“Oh Joel, I’m sorry–” He shakes his head, stopping you mid-sentence. 

“It’s okay, darlin’. Sarah n’ I navigate life together. That’s just how it is. We’re so used to it that having her mother in the picture would honestly be very weird.” He plucks another fried pickle from your plate, popping it into his mouth with a sly grin. You can’t help but return the smile. 

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sure it probably wasn’t easy.” 

Joel shrugs, “It got easier to talk about overtime. Sarah n’ I are great.” 

“Does she know you’re on a date right now?” You’re curious. You don’t want to be the person that suddenly barges into their lives and disrupts their routine or anything. Sarah sounds so sweet, and the last thing you wanted was to intervene between the two. 

“She does, actually. She’s been hecklin’ me to go out n’ date again. She’s on the varsity soccer team at school n’ since she spends so much time with her team, she didn’t want me to be lonely. She was excited when I told her I was goin’ on a date today.” 

“She just wants you to be happy,” You say, and he nods. “Don’t blame her. I’d want the same for you, too.” 

“I am happy. You make me happy. Don’t know what it is about you that’s got me feelin’ so crazy inside. Feels like I’m a teenage boy again.” Joel laughs, and your eyes widen, because that’s exactly how you feel. 

“Joel, that’s—”

You heard your name being called from a short distance away, and your head swiveled around to lock eyes with none other than your sister. 

“Shit.” You say under your breath, and Joel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks, but before you could answer, your sister and her fiancé stroll up to the table. 

“Hey sis! Didn’t know you’d be here today.” She has a shit-eating grin on her face, like she just caught you doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“Didn’t know you’d be here either.” You give her a tight-lipped smile, eyes shifting to the man standing beside her. 

“Hi Josh.” You greet him with a small wave, and the sympathy in his eyes is enough of a forewarning that you were going to be in for it from your sister. 

“So who’s this?” Your sister gestures to Joel, and you glare at her briefly. You felt heat creep up your body, feeling a little ticked off. You wanted to keep Joel a mystery just a little longer. 

“This is Joel. Joel, this is my sister and her fiancé Josh.” You introduce them three, and while you’re feeling nothing short of embarrassed, Joel has a big smile on his face as he extends his hand to shake both of theirs. 

“Nice to meet y’all.” He says, and your sister beams. 

“Ah, so you’re the mystery firefighter my sister always gushes about,” She laughs, and you groan and hide your face behind your hands. “Thank you for getting her out of that horrible car accident, by the way.” Her voice was coated with sincerity and gratefulness. 

“‘S no problem, really. I’d rescue her any day.” He looks at you as you peek an eye through your fingers, and he shoots you a wink. 

Your sister ‘aww’s at Joel’s words. 

The heat in your face never wavers and you hide your face again, shaking your head in pure embarrassment. 

“So when’s the wedding?” Joel asks politely, making conversation so awkwardness doesn’t roll over the four of you. 

Your sister can’t help but gleam when she answers him, “August tenth! You should come. It would be so much fun.” 

Your hands evade your face, and you look up at your sister with furrowed brows and a panicked stare. What the hell was she doing? 

Joel looked at you for a second with a small smile, and you wanted so badly to shrink into yourself and let the world swallow you whole. 

“Love to, only if this one would like me to go.” He nudges your foot under the table playfully, and an awkward chuckle escapes you. 

“You’d be subjected to my family if you went, Joel. I’m not sure you’d wanna deal with… all that.” 

Your sister laughs at your words, “She does have a fair point. Our brothers and cousins are quite the rowdy bunch.” 

“I like a challenge.” Joel smirks, eyes locking with yours. 

“I like him even more now.” Your sister laughs, nudging you on your shoulder. 

You shoo her hand away, rolling your eyes. “Okay, okay. It’s up to you, Joel, but I’m giving you a huge warning in advance.” 

He grins at you and grabs your hand from across the table, gently swiping his thumb over your soft skin. 

“Well, It was nice to meet you, Joel. Josh and I are gonna head out and grab a funnel cake.” Your sisters bids you both goodbye, and you and Joel both say your goodbyes before they walk off. 

“God, Joel, I am so sorry. I hope you don’t feel pressured into going to her wedding or anything. I know it’s like a month away and–”

Joel stops you with a kiss to the back of your hand. “Not at all, darlin’. But if you rather I not go, then I won’t. ‘S up to you.” 

“It’s not that–it’s just–,” You sigh, trying to find the right wording. “I’ve been single for so long. My last relationship didn’t end well, and my family is overprotective of me because they don’t wanna see me get hurt again. They can be… a bit much, sometimes.” 

You look at him, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

“I mean, that’s understandable. Nobody likes seein’ members of their family gettin’ hurt, especially in a relationship. ‘M sorry your last one ended badly, but baby, if you let me, I’d love to give you everythin’ I can. I know this datin’ thing is scary, because hell, it took me so long to say yes to someone’s advances, but I really do like you and I would love to see where this goes.” 

You’re elated by Joel’s words. He was just so damn sweet and you genuinely felt like you didn’t deserve any of this. Dating is a scary thing, and the thought of giving yourself to someone again, letting them in to get to know all of you, terrified you. 

But, your sister's words ring in your head, once again. The world won’t end if you give up an ounce of control. 

“I’m glad you said yes to my advances.” You say, and Joel lifts your hands to his lips once again, giving it several kisses. 

“‘M happy I did, too.” 

-

“So which game do you want to play?” Joel asks, looking back at you as you try to fall into step with him. It was a couple of hours later, the sunset starting to creep in. 

“The water gun game. Love that one.” You grin, and he leads the way to the last two empty seats on the side. Joel hands the man running the game four tickets as you both settle in your seats, and you flash Joel a smirk. 

“Get ready to get your ass handed to you, cowboy.” Your shoulders shake with laughter as he gives you a look. He didn’t expect a competitive side to come out of you, but he liked it. A lot. 

“‘M ready, baby. Don’t hold back now.” He laughs as you both take hold of the metal machines, hovering your thumbs over the red buttons on the top. The bell goes off to start, and you zero in on getting the water into the tiny target. You don’t even think you blink until the bell goes off, signifying that someone won. 

You look up at the poles, and although Joel beat you, neither of you won. Some guy at the other end won and picked out a prize for his girlfriend and gave her a big kiss after she got a big plushie. 

You smile at the scene before you, and Joel notices you looking at them. He was determined to win something for you, because he wanted you to remember this day. 

He leads you over to a ball throwing game where he has to knock down bottles on three tiers of shelves. Nobody else was at the stand, so he got the opportunity to show off and impress you. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes moved to the rippling biceps beneath the hem of his shirt, trailing them up to his tan neck, to the slightly graying stubble on his jaw, to his plush lips and strong angular nose, and his pretty eyes. His soft brown curls were barely peeking out from under his Stetson, and all you wanted to do was take his hat off and run your fingers through his hair. 

He’s a fucking dreamboat, and you really couldn’t believe that you were able to pull someone like him. 

“This one’s for you, baby.” He turns to wink at you, catching you staring at him. Heat shoots up to your face and you give him a shy smile, watching as he easily knocks down five bottles. Even the game attendant was impressed, and Joel pulled you into his side so you could pick out whichever stuffed animal you wanted. 

You chose a big teddy bear that was squishy, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek and thanking him for winning it for you. 

“So how many teddy bears have you won for previous women? You made that look too easy.” You joke, nudging his side as you both walk away from the game. 

“Mm, around thirty. I’m a regular here.” Joel deadpans. Your mouth drops open in mock offense, and the most guttural laugh erupts from his chest. 

“Jus’ you, baby. Tommy n’ I used to play catch a lot.” He reassures you, and you quirk your brow at him. 

“Better be, Miller, or there’ll be hell to pay.” You poke his chest with no malice behind your actions. 

“I bet there will be, darlin’.” He catches your hand and spins you around so your back is flush against his front, and he kisses your neck. He’s moving ahead of you before you even have time to process what just happened, but excitement zinged through your body at his gesture. 

You walk for about five minutes before you spot a photo booth not even twenty feet away. You stop him in his tracks and look at him with the best pleading eyes you can muster up. 

“Would you hate me if I asked you to take pictures with me?” You nod your head toward the photo booth, and Joel looks taken aback. 

“Hate you? I could never. I’d love to take pictures with you.” 

You guess you didn’t realize your wording before you said it. You were so used to your ex hating things you wanted to do, including taking photos to capture memories. He always made you feel bad about it, so you stopped doing it so much after you broke up. You just didn’t realize that the shitty feeling was still buried somewhere inside you. 

Joel tugs you along to the photo booth, sliding in first. The bench was extremely small, and it was nearly impossible to fit both of you side-by-side. 

“Jus’ sit on my lap.” Joel suggests, spreading his legs and patting his thigh. You swallow harshly and nod, sitting on his lap.

 You both get situated and put the two dollars in the machine before pressing the start button. Joel grabs on to your hips, and you nearly melt into a fucking puddle at his touch. 

It’d been so long since anyone has simply touched you, so your whole body was buzzing with nerves and excitement. 

You both smile for the first photo. You didn’t know what to do next, so you threw up a peace sign, Joel following your lead. For the third photo, you grabbed Joel’s face and gently squished him between your forefinger and thumb, sticking your tongue out.

You look at the screen and realize Joel was staring at you, so you turn your head to look at him. His smile is soft and his eyes are hooded, glancing down at your lips. 

You pluck his Stetson off of his head, covering half of your faces as Joel leans in and closes the gap, kissing you gently. Your body melts into his as you bring your other hand up to his curls, running your fingers through them to cradle the back of his head. His arms tighten around you, and he deepens the kiss, turning his head to the side. 

The last sound of the shutter goes off, but neither of you pull away. The arm holding his hat moves to rest on his shoulder as your lips move in tandem. You don’t know how long you were there just kissing. It was gentle and sweet, but there was a ferocious hunger that was brewing beneath the surface. You both felt it. 

You had to pull away before you lost all control, so you regrettably separated yourself from him. He rubbed his nose against yours, breathing a little ragged, before he leaned back to look at you. 

He cups your face and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone, giving you one last peck as reality trickles back down around you both once more. You put his hat back on his head before standing up from his lap, an unavoidable neediness coursing through your body. 

You grabbed both of the photo strips that were printed, smiling at them when you saw what they looked like. You never thought you’d admit to yourself ever again that you looked good with someone else by your side, but you couldn’t deny the sparkle in your eyes that you saw in the photos—all because of Joel. 

It scared you, truthfully. The thought of relying on someone else for happiness or reassurance just didn’t sit well with you quite yet, but what was the point of it all if you weren’t willing to let yourself just try? 

An hour passed before beautiful hues of orange, purple and pink took over as dusk settled on the horizon of the sky. You and Joel decided to split a funnel cake, but not without getting powdered sugar all over yourselves. 

“You got a little…” Joel trails off as he reaches his thumb out to the corner of your mouth, swiping off some stray powdered sugar before popping his thumb into his mouth. You lick your lips and watch him carefully, the ache of arousal only getting worse. 

“Wanna go on the ferris wheel?” You ask, desperate to distract yourself from your undying want for this man. 

“Love to.” 

You both dust off any powdered sugar left behind on your shirts, walking hand-in-hand to the ferris wheel. Joel gave the ride attendant the last six tickets he had, and you both climbed on. 

You were silent for most of the ride, admiring all the twinkling lights and patrons below. You glance at Joel who was already looking at you once again, and you can’t help the smile from forming. 

“Thank you so much for today. I had a lot of fun.” 

“‘Course, darlin’. ‘M glad I got to do this with you.” 

“Me too. I have some pretty great souvenirs, too.” You clutch onto your teddy bear, and he shakes his head with a laugh. 

The ferris wheel came to a stop, and you realized you were both at the top as you looked down at the fairgrounds below. 

“Would it be super fuckin’ cheesy and cliché if I asked you to kiss me right now?” Joel asks, scooting closer to you. 

“It would,” You start, leaning in to him. “But I don’t care. Be as cheesy and cliché as you’d like.” 

He grins before tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, pressing his lips to yours once more. This time was a bit different. Joel kissed you with more force, neediness coursing through his body just as much as yours. 

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, and you immediately parted your lips for him. You couldn’t help the moan that bubbled in your throat as you moved closer to him, gripping onto his bicep. 

It was so easy to get lost in him. It was easy to talk with him, to laugh with him, to be with him. So, so fucking easy. 

You’d never felt this way about anyone before. It was wild to think about, because you just met him not even a month ago, but you could see yourself being so unapologetically happy with him. 

It might’ve been insane to think about that so early on, but your gut was telling you that you finally chose right. 

You were so wrapped up in each other and the heated kiss you were exchanging that you didn’t even realize the ferris wheel started moving again, and you eventually reached the bottom. The ride attendant awkwardly cleared their throat with a tight-lipped smile, and you immediately pulled away from Joel. 

You were mortified as you uttered ‘sorry’ at least five times before getting off the ride with Joel. 

Joel couldn’t help but laugh that you two had been caught, but he couldn’t care less. He felt so himself and so carefree around you. 

“Should we head back to yours?” He asks, a hint of desperation in his tone. You couldn’t even find the right words because your brain was absolute mush, so you just nod your head in agreement. 

The ride home didn’t take long, but as soon as you walked through your apartment door with him and set your prize and purse down, he was on you. He gently pushed you up against the door, hands wrapping around you as one moved down to your lower back. 

He separated his lips from yours for a second, nibbling on your chin. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asks, voice filled with hope. 

God, please, yes. Touch me everywhere, you think. 

“Yes.” You whisper, and his lips are on yours once again. His tongue invaded your mouth, this kiss even hungrier than it was on the ferris wheel. One of his hands moved down to your ass, and you moaned into his mouth at the touch, fisting the back of his shirt into your hand in desperation. 

He moved you away from the door and walked backward toward your couch, plopping down on it. He immediately yanks your hips down so you’re straddling him, and you gently take the Stetson off of his head before setting it to the side. You crash your lips to his once again, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you press yourself into his crotch unintentionally. 

Joel groans at the sensation, cock stirring in his jeans as you both continue to invade each other’s mouths, all teeth and tongue. His hands move down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he guides you to rock your hips against his. 

You don’t even shy away anymore. You want this—you want him. But you had to pace yourself, not wanting to bite off more than you can chew. You ground your hips into his, clit catching perfectly onto the seam of your jeans as you felt his bulge straining against the denim he was wearing. 

“Fuck, Joel.” You whine, biting your bottom lip as you separate your lips from his. 

“I know, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He’s breathless as he moves you a little faster, and you nod your head feverishly. 

“Yeah–yes–fuck, it does. So good.” Your arousal was coating your panties, slick and warm as your cunt ached to be touched. 

Slow. Slow, you had to remind yourself.  

You’d just have to take care of yourself after he left tonight. 

“Fuck–darlin’ I think we should–wait.” Joel tries to find the words as they barely register in his head. 

You slow your hips down, panting against him and you nod. 

“I know. We should take it slow.” You say, and he licks his lips with a nod. 

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, as much as I’d love to–I jus’– I haven’t been with anyone in a real long time, and I don’t wanna fuck this up. I wanna do this right.” 

“I know, Joel. I’m with you. I wanna take this slow, too. I like you a lot and I wanna do this right with you as well.” 

Your eyes bored into his brown ones, sparkling with hope and happiness. He kissed your cheek a few times before nosing at your jaw, hands moving up to settle on your hips again. 

He pulled back and looked at you with that same soft smile on his handsome face—a sight you knew you’d never tire of. 

You’d quickly come to a revelation as you stared at him, chest heaving up and down as you desperately tried to catch your breath: you were falling—and this time, you didn’t want to get back up. 

tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11

divider by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #firefighter!joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #fic: a burning desire

[houpss]

SKZ have a crush on you

you can come up with the ending yourself...whether the reader will be with the member or not is up to you!

light angst, a little fluff, uncertain relationship

Bang Chan

oh...this man talks about his feelings openly and without fear.

He literally phrases: "I'll steal and fuck your girlfriend while you're not looking."

He has a huge amount of female and male attention, but...

But it doesn't work out that way with you...

You were out of his reach.

You were too beautiful, too sweet, too good...he wasn't like that.

Chris is the one who will call you his muse and write romantic songs for you, some of which have been published.

His love is manifested in acts of care, he is always there, he is more tactile with you than with others.

He will give you whatever you want, just ask.

Chan has 8 members so he is like a dad...he protects and cares for them

And he also wants to take care of you.

He wants to love you openly.

But you didn’t notice his feelings.

Although...you loved Chris. Literally loved to the moon and back.

For some reason, it seemed to you that Chris only saw you as a friend or family member, just like his Members.

Yeah...close friends....

He will say exactly the same phrase to you:

"You came..."–"You called"

It seems you are both fools.

Maybe he's too soft with you? Maybe he needs to leave?

He won't be able to give up on you.

I will kill myself, I will destroy my soul, but I will be with you.

But i'll wait for you

I love you to the moon and back

기다려 여기 me and max

서운해해도 don't be mad

너한텐 할 수 없는 game (Bloo-But i'll wait for you)

Lee Know

How could Minho let this happen?

Lee Minho was head over heels in love with you.

No one has seen his loving eyes, no one has ever felt his gentle touch.

How did he allow himself to fall in love with you?

This is a completely crazy idea, he didn’t love to love.

But you turn his world upside down, he is literally lost in you.

You clearly feel like Minho hates you.

Minho is like cold winter, he is like snowy weather, he looks like frosty weather.

And you were in summer, you're complete opposites.

But even after the coldest winter, love comes.

He calls you the most beautiful adjectives, it’s like he’s trying to silently scream about his feelings.

He speaks directly and harshly, he loves the truth straight forward.

"And you will be obsessed with me, I will be everywhere: I will be in your favorite songs, I will be between the lines of books, I will be in every passerby... I am your addiction"

Lee Minho couldn't fall in love, but he wanted to love.

All the pretty stars shine for you, my love

Am I the girl that you dream of? (Lana Del Rey–Pretty when you cry)

Seo Changbin

He loved and hated you at the same time.

Oh.. Seo Changbin can hate?

Yes, he did it with you. He loved you so much that he hated you for it.

You were everywhere, you were ingrained in his existence and mind.

He was very sweet and friendly and loved people.

It didn’t work out that way with you, it was as if he deliberately didn’t want to have much contact with you.

He loved you silently, probably without asking for anything in return.

Before he even notices, he begins to pay attention to you... be it small acts of attention or dialogues with you.

"You can take Changbin out of first love, but not first love out of Changbin."

Again, it was like you were different, you weren’t like anyone else. He noticed you immediately when he met you.

He seems upset that you will never be his.

Oh...the boy is gloomy. The boy looks like a thunderstorm.

Conquer your lonely heart, get used to the emptiness.

When you ran your fingers over your lips

I bought it from glossy magazines

Everything you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for

How can you be so terribly beautiful? (Rocky-WITCH)

Hwang Hyunjin

Oh yes, you and Hyunjin have been friends since childhood.

It even got to the point that you are idols in the same agency. No wonder Hyunjin adores you, he's obsessed.

Fans loved your interactions, they were sure there was something between you and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin wants to get into your soul, he wants to take your heart into his cold hands.

You were the forbidden fruit, and forbidden fruit is always sweet.

It’s as if you’re chasing him, you’re everywhere, he feels you everywhere.

But you're just his friend, his sweet best friend.

It was normal for you to peck Hyunjin on the lips, naturally in private or during greetings (while no one was looking). Hyunjin feels addicted.

You are worse than drugs, you cause an addictive effect. You are his absolute delight.

The boy will paint your portraits, he will exalt you like a goddess.

So why do you only see him as a friend?

Hwang Hyunjin doesn't deserve to be your friend, he wants to be your boyfriend.

The boy loves to hurt himself, he loves hardcore. He loves pain and whines a lot.

He just replaces you with pain, it helps.

Touch me, yeah

I want you to touch me there

Make me feel like I am breathing

Feel like I am human (The neighbourhood–A little death)

Han Jisung

You never paid attention to Jisung.

But Jisung was so loud and cheerful that he started to annoy you.

Jisung did this on purpose, he liked you.

The boy will notice you immediately, you immediately fell into his soul. So cold and inaccessible.

He wants to melt the ice on your heart, he wants to become your sun.

Every day he fell more in love with you, the cold intensifying his desire.

“Your love is addictive” – your words

He is very kind and cheerful with you, he is so easy to talk to.

He won't give up to get you. Even when you send him the rudest obscenities

I'm your boy.

He will sing to you, and you will ask him to shut up. You secretly love it, his voice is so beautiful.

But you should hate Han Jisung because it's the right thing to do.

You would get closer to him, but...

No.

"Is it fashionable to jerk off to him?"

"hit of the season"

Lee Felix

It was impossible not to fall in love with Felix.

everyone loves Felix!

And he loves you.

This sunny boy literally drowned in his love for you, it completely absorbed him and did not allow other feelings to pass through.

But you don't seem to notice him.

Felix dreamed about you, you are in his thoughts. The first thought in the morning, a relieving thought when he is busy and the last thought before going to bed.

He's trying to get as close to you as possible

He will become your best friend.

Felix is too good, he is an angel in a human body.

The world is not worthy of Felix, so why did he love you?

Every day, like a painful melody, this unrequited love sounded in his heart. He experienced all emotions - from boundless happiness to deep sadness - alone

He couldn't imagine life without you

If you leave, there will be no point in living.

He writes you poems, he gives you the most expensive gifts, he just wants you to love him. Love him at least a little.

Perhaps his efforts will remain irretrievably lost in time. But one thing is certain: he will continue to love you, deeply and truly, even if he never hears your answer.

Come on scratch my back

So as to reach the heart

Both you and I want this (ЩЕНКИ–dirt)

Kim Seungmin

It's like he's afraid to get close to you.

On the contrary, he moves away. Every day it gets stronger, he loves you so much and doesn’t want to see you so much.

Seungmin took this step not because of a lack of love; in fact, on the contrary, he was struck by this love.

In every breath you took, every word you said, he found the perfect embodiment of his dreams. You were his sun, his muse, his everything.

But he knew he couldn't be with you. He saw how disappointed you were in your past love, how your trust and heart were damaged. He couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake. He couldn't risk their relationship knowing that the end could only be pain and disappointment.

It hurts so much to give up on someone you love.

He deserved happiness, he deserved love, but he couldn't have it with you.

He didn't want to ruin your life or be the source of your pain.

He will go away and it will be easier for everyone.

He will disappear from your life as suddenly as he appeared.

He will never forget you, he will never stop loving you. But he knows that sometimes the best decision is to let go of the one you love. This is exactly what he did because to him, your happiness was much more important than his own.

He looks at the dawn and remembers you.

Your nose is covered in cocaine, you can barely stand

I am the secret that you cannot hide

I think about you too much (Pharaoh-unplugged 2)

Yang Jeongin

You are his first love.

He sees a future with you, he sees stars in you.

It was the first time he felt such strong feelings for someone.

Oh, he is just learning about love, but it can hurt or beat sometimes. Love can completely break the psyche.

But he doesn't care as long as you exist.

Jeongin will turn to the Hyuns for advice. how to get your attention and make you fall in love.

He will be so romantic...he will be so gentle with you.

He is afraid to do something wrong so as not to scare you away

He will be a gentleman and will wait for the moment until you fall in love, he will do everything for this!

He will wait for you all his life if necessary, but I am sure that you will fall in love faster.

“He replaced my home, love and friends. He is my everything.”

Jeongin is like warm weather, everyone is waiting for him and wants him.

Feeling so lonely, 'cause it's not enough

Missin' you only ever since we fell in love (Ciggarets after sex–Touch)

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz headcanons #stray kids reactions #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x y/n #skz reactions #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz fic #skz au #skz angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids addition #stray kids au #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #bang chan #angst

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | TBD (24.04.24)

45 | TBD (01.05.24)

.

.

.

.

BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

#imagine #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #moony #padfoot #prongs #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius x you #sirius x y/n #remus x y/n #remus x you #remus x reader #remus one shot #sirius black one shot #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x y/n #wolfstar x you #sirius black x fem!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #moony x reader #moony x padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #moony x you #james potter #poly marauders

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ waterlilies

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: FLUFFF and a lot of it, kissing

word count: 648 i think (I CANNOT WRITE LONG FLUFF)

i HAD to link an arctic monkeys song. listen to it while reading if you bother lol.

working on some requests!! i love y’all’s ideas🤍

anyways, i love painting myself so this was fun to write. felt in the mood soooooo HERES A GOOD OLD FLUFF😇

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“So, what do you think? Is it good?” you smiled, holding up the paper in front of you.

Your whole life you had been fascinated with painting, specifically water colouring. The way the thin paint blended in with the other colours, layering it to give it depth, the tiny details you could add, and overall just the mood of it.

This past month you had been really into it. Painting a pond with water lilies, a green forest turning orange as the seasons changes from summer to fall, and a lot more. You usually kept all your small paintings in a notebook (with water lilies on) the same size as the paper.

Matt was your biggest supporter. He loved your paintings, but not as much as he loved watching you paint. Your concentration face, tongue slightly poking out through your lips, eyebrows frowned, the sun hitting your facial features just right.

He could just gaze at you for hours, here and there telling you how good the painting looked or how good you looked. This would often result in you smiling, blushing and looking away. He just joined in, laughing as he threw his arms around you, plastering your face and head with kisses. He loved your laugh so much. Well, to be honest, it usually ended up in the bedroom. But that’s not the point.

“I love it. I swear, you get better every time,” Matt said, his hand holding his head up, the other one holding your hand across the table, studying the painting.

“Can I have it? I want to frame it.” Matt smiled, taking the painting from your hand, his eyes scanning it.

A turquoise blue pond, water lilies floating on top of it, surrounded by tall dark green trees. You knew Matt liked forests, so while painting the pond you added the trees and the rest of the forest, of course, adding your signature water lilies on top.

You loved water lilies, and Matt seemed to love them too. He had gotten a small one tattooed on his inner wrist, and when you asked him the day he got it, why he got it, he just told you that ‘Water lilies remind me of you’

“Of course you can. I’ll find a frame, we can do it right now,” you said as you stood up from your chair, on your way to the basement.

That was until Matt caught you, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, tickling you.

“Got you!” he chuckled.

“Hey! Matt!” you laughed uncontrollably, your hands gripping his strong arms. He started laughing as well, kissing your neck, cheek, forehead, and now turning you around to kiss your lips. He cupped your face with his hands gently, your own hands ruffling through his hair.

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away from this kiss, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I love you too,” you smiled liked a little kid, holding his hands. Matt then decided to totally betray you and tickle you again.

“Matt, stop!” you screamed, both of you laughing so hard you fell to the floor.

He stopped tickling you, both of you panting, but still giggling. You rested your head on his chest, intertwining your fingers slowly.

“You know I love your laugh,” he smiled at you. You looked up at him, his eyes already locked on yours as you chuckled a bit. His words always managed to make you blush like crazy.

“Look who’s blushing, huh?” Matt teased, pinching your cheek as he started laughing again.

“I am not!” you giggled, covering your face with your hands, covering in dried up paint.

“You so are!” he kept teasing, leaning over your body to kiss your face again, one hand beside your head, the other gripping your hip. You just lied there for a bit, kissing each other, blushing, smiling, kissing again, leaving hickeys here and there.

“Ouch, we should get up. This floor isn’t so comfortable after all,” you chuckled, pulling away from his, now swollen, red lips. He got up from the top of you, picking you up by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your legs.

“Matt!” you giggled. “Put me down right now!”

“Nope, not happening. I’m taking you to the bedroom.” he chuckled, a smirk growing on his lips.

a/n: hope u like it!! lots of love💕

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader

[binzlovenicetingz]

Heyy, can I request a will poulter imagine since you do fanfics for 🧍🏾‍♀️. Ig a long distance scenerio that as lot of angst but end in either fluff,smut or angst I’m down for anything. I’m just thankful for a poc writer honestly 😭

Imagine you are in a relationship with Will but both of your work schedules are pushing you further apart. The distance begins to cause a strain on your relationship, leading to a fight that might end your relationship..or is it?

warning: 18+ only, language, smut, oral(f receiving), unprotected smut(wrap it before you tap it), you said you were down for anything lol, established relationship, slight angst, no beta reading cause I'm a thug, y/n is a black reader but woc/poc are welcomed🤎

You and Will rarely fight.

Sure, you two have had disagreements but those never escalated further. There's no yelling or backhanded comments, if anything, you both learned very easily on in the relationship that you both hated going to bed angry and always made it a point to talk out your problems together and come to a peaceful resolution.

So why haven't you heard from him in over a week?

The last conversation ended in a heated fight over FaceTime. It was going on close to a year since you last saw each other in person - not like it wasn’t anything that you two weren’t used to but this time around, your schedules made it damn near impossible to even call, especially being in different time zone.

You didn't want to admit it but it was hard - and as you lay in your hotel room, you couldn't stop the ache that's been slowly building in your chest. You hated fighting with Will and especially hated it had you questioning you own relationship but it felt like you were the only one trying!

Will joining Marvel and becoming apart of the MCU was a big deal and you couldn’t of been any more prouder of him than you already were. He was working hard, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little neglected and when there was finally a free week in your schedule, you made sure to tell him.

It was only a week and you missed your boyfriend like crazy, so you were going to make it work. That was until he broke the news to you, reshoots. You were hurt, crushed really, and from the other side of the screen, you could tell he was too. It wasn’t Will’s fault, you knew that but couldn’t hide the sadness anymore. You let it out, and in turn, he rightfully defended himself. Looking back on it now, it was a stupid fight but in that moment, you angrily ended the call and turned off your notifications for the night.

'A few days to cool off is needed' you thought to yourself on set but before you knew it, one day turned into three and soon enough you were in your hotel room getting ready. You had glanced down at your phone, thinking about shouting a text first but your pride wouldn't let you and with a new reason to be upset all over again, you left the room and got your Uber.

It was the wrap-up party for a mini-series you were working on with HBO or should you call it Max? You didn’t know and frankly tonight, you didn’t really care, the only thing on your mind was Will. You scan the room as cast and crew mingled about. You should be celebrating with them, enjoying completing a project you spent years writing and having a great team to back it up but right now, you just wanted to be alone.

Stepping out to the private balcony, you breathed in the summer night before taking in the view. The restaurant that production rented out allowed you a decent view of the skyline and enough height to see people walking below or coming to dine in and as you people watch for a split second, a familiar figure just down the street looking slightly lost.

"Will?" you squinted, getting a better look and seeing that it was in fact, Will, and you quickly called out to him before finally getting his attention.

"Surprise!" He shouted and you tried to stop the smile from growing on your face but you couldn't help it.

"What are doing here?"

"Surprising you!"

You didn't have much to say after that, all the anger and pent-up frustration all but faded and you wanted nothing more than to ditch this party and spend it with him.

So you did.

On the way back to your hotel, Will let it slip that you had to bride your assistant to give him the location and when you asked why he didn't just call you, Will sheepishly pulled out his cracked open, scratching the back of his head. "Kinda messed around and broke my phone on set the other. I had my manager book my flight and everything."

You could of swoon.

It was quiet as you enter your hotel room, Will shut the door behind him as he watches you carefully. He doesn't know why, but he felt nervous, maybe it was because this was the first time you'd been in the same room in close to a year.

"So, um I-"

"Listen, baby, I'm-"

You both rush to speak, smiling slightly as some of the tension leaves the room. Will stepping closer until he was sitting next to you and naturally, you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You whisper softly, not wanting to break this bubble.

A sigh leaves his lips, "I should be the one apologizing, Y/n.

"Can we just agree that this fight was super dumb and forget it happen?" you glance up at him smiling softly at you as he pulls you closer.

"Forget about what?"

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly. "And thank you for coming all the way here too, it really means a lot."

Will places a gentle kiss against your forehead before pulling back slightly as he takes in your beautiful features. "I really was trying to surprise you."

A smile graces your lips, "and you did surprise me, really."

"Maybe I should get a reward for my brilliant plan."

"And what kind of reward were you looking for?"

"Hmm, a kiss should suffice."

You were giggling now, "I think I should be the one asking for a kiss."

Will quirks a brow, an amused smirk playing on his face as he shifts in his seat before easily pulling you onto his lap. "Really now?"

You innocently nodded your head before letting out a playful sigh, "Yeah, I was left all alone, broken-hearted and sad-" a surprised yelp leaves your lips as your easily picked up and tossed over Will's shoulder without even a second thought, yelping again when you feel his hand give your ass a quick slap before he places you on the bed, lips meeting in a kiss that quickly turned heated.

The dress and heels you wore were taken off with ease but you couldn't say the same for your panties which were practically torn from your body and Will's lips kissing down your body until he reaches your wet center.

The sounds that tumbled out of your pretty mouth had him groaning into your core, earning another whine and buck of your hips to meet his hungry mouth.

"Yes, p-please ahh, more!" you begged as your fingers tangled into his hair and tugged on his roots. You were already sensitive from being pent up for so long that you felt everything he was doing to your pussy; his flattened tongue rubbing over your throbbing bud before wrapping and sucking on your clit as his finger pumped into your sobbing core. You were breathless and started feeling way more exposed than you even realized getting lost in the feeling of his mouth and feeling the heat rushing from your ears down to the tip of your toes that it takes you a few seconds to realize that Will stopped his movements.

You quickly tug at the end of his shirt, "You got too many clothes on." Will chuckles, sitting up between your parted thighs and easily discarding his shirt as you take him all in.

"Better?" He asked but you quickly shook your head and he caught on quickly, getting out of his jeans and briefs, and you were finally blessed with seeing his harden length after so long you could cry. You were just reaching for it when his much larger hand stop yours, "Later, darling, I really need to be inside you right now."

You could see the neediness in his eyes, stroking his cock at just the thought of finally being inside you were breaking his cool, and honestly, you didn't want to wait anymore either. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as your legs spread for him. The tip of his cock brushes against your dripping folds and you can't help but moan, raising your hips to catch more friction. That's when he eases into you, both gasping at the stretch that had your walls already squeezing him in more.

"So tight," Will groans, his face buried in your neck that his breath tickles your skin, raising goosebumps. He eases into you some more and your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back as your nails dig into his back but he doesn't seem the least bit fazed from the marks you were giving him while you try to keep your wits end.

Will soon pulls back, his large hands traveling down your quivering body until he's pushing your thighs back unable your knees are touching your chest in a gasp but he doesn't stop his thrust. His eyes flickering lower to watch his cock sink deeper into your wet pussy, the slick sounds coming from your tight was starting to drive him mad.

"Fuck, I might just cum right now," he whines, his cock hitting your spot just right you were starting to see stars. "you're so good to me, baby. so pretty taking my cock, yes!"

He usually wasn't this vocal but you weren't complaining, responding back in whimper and moans since you feel your brain turning to mush when he slows his pace but thrust deeper.

Will drinks in your appearance. You look so beautiful with your face contorted with pleasure, your eyes half closed and your glossed lips parted with sweet-sounding moans, and the louder you got, the more tempting the thought of fucking you all night was in the stars. He closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you. It was hungry and messy with all tongue and teeth. The hand that wasn't on your tit moved to your clit, rubbing quick circles on your swollen nub.

You clamped around him even tighter feeling his hand and with the way you were moaning into his mouth, he knew you were going to cum and he wasn't far behind either. Your fingers tangled in his hair once you broke the heated kiss, forehead touching

"That's it, baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock." He strokes deeper, leaving you panting more as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and from the low hiss leaving his lips, you're sure you broke skin this time but you didn't care, not when your eyes fluttered shut, body shooked underneath him as your orgasm ripped through you in waves after waves. "C-Cumming! I'm cumming!" His pace was unrelenting, giving your more deep thrust until he buried his cock deep inside you, flooding your tight walls with his cum.

It was quiet aside from you two catching your breath. He gently drops your legs as he steadies himself on one arm, he uses his other hand to caress your cheek, your eyes meet his gaze a soft smile grew on both your faces.

"I love you."

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know."

You and Will rarely fight but when you do, you two are always making up in the end.

@penny44224

#will poulter #will poulter x black reader #will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #will poulter fic #black reader #woc imagine #black reader imagine

[drunk-on-dk]

[Teaser] Over the Country Club | Yoon Jeonghan (M)

pairing: best friend!Jeonghan x afab!reader genre/tags: fluff, angst, smut (minors do not interact), friends to lovers, a bit of unrequited love, a slice of life au, college au, post-grad au rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~3k TEASER (estimated ~15-20k for full fic, currently this may be my longest fic yet and it feels so good to really be writing again) warnings: mentions of alcohol (underage is not condoned), future smut

Summary: Jeonghan and you have known each other for as long as you can both remember. From the years spent working at the country club, to your university days, there has always been this aching feeling that neither of you can quite understand. Someone falls first, but the other falls harder.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts on this teaser! I've been working hard to get back into writing in the new year and wanted to get comfortable with diving more into the plot. Things may change when the full fic is posted, but not much of what's in the teaser! I hope you enjoy it, and of course please message me if you'd like to be on the tag list for this fic!

I. 4th of July, the Summer Before the First Year of University

Just like every other high school student in your town, Jeonghan and you found part-time jobs at the oh-so-prestigious country club located in the next town over. One could argue it was practically a full-time job since most part-timers worked upwards of 40 hours a week due to how busy the club got during the summers. 

Not that you would complain about the hours; to be fair, you had to save up a substantial amount of money for the upcoming transition to college. The realization hit soon after graduating high school, you only had enough pocket change to fund some expenses,  which was not nearly enough to get you comfortably through the upcoming semesters. You had worked at the club most summers, but this year you took all the hours they offered. 

Plus, you’d be crazy to admit that summers working at the Lakewood Country Club weren’t some sort of fun. Plenty of your peers worked there, including Jeonghan, your longest lasting friendship due to the proximity of living next door to one another and growing up attached at the hip. 

Jeonghan worked as a caddie on the golf course. He’s gentlemanly in appearance, has just enough knowledge about what type of club to use at each hole, and has a never-ending spunk that entertains whatever group of golfers he’s assisting for the day. Jeonghan made decent tips working as a caddie, earning a couple of hundred dollars from some of his return golfers who specifically requested his assistance for an 18-hole outing. One could assume that most members of the country club were very well-off, or at least living comfortably. 

Luckily, you were stationed at the halfway house most days this summer. It’s located in the heart of the golf course, and the club consistently blasted cool air conditioning in the exposed, open bar area that was meant for golfers to stop by. Jeonghan, as scheming as ever, would ensure that his golfers stopped by for a quick refreshment at some point, knowing that he’d get to spend some time with you and help you earn some extra cash in tips from his already rowdy crew. 

You’d mix up some Manhattans or Old-Fashioned’s for the golfers, knowing the usual orders for each club member as if they had been engrained on the back of your hand (in hindsight, a freshly graduated high schooler should not have been pouring alcoholic beverages, but the country club didn’t care - your labor was cheaper than hiring a professional tender and you learned just the basics just fine). Nonetheless, your cocktails were a treat for the golfers who had been drinking beers for most of the course, most of them lukewarm or gone by the time they made it to the halfway house. 

Today is the Fourth of July, marking the mid-way point of your last summer before college. You had made your fair share of tips this summer working at the halfway house, especially due to Jeonghan’s consistent sourcing of clientele at your bar. It was a particularly hot day, one of the hottest of the summer and plenty of customers had stopped by, leaving hefty tips, feeling generous either from the heat or the holiday. 

Jeonghan approached the bar area with a heavy sigh, parking his cart hastily, but still had his typical mischievous smile etched onto his features as a crowd of familiar golfers followed behind him. Your nose scrunched in feigned disgust, a teasing smile mirroring his upon noticing just how tired and sweaty the group was from the relentless summer heat. 

Part of you thought he looked angelic from the way his sun-kissed skin gleamed, but you’d never admit that, nor would you dare to speak those thoughts out loud, not even to your closest friends who weren’t Jeonghan. However, the other part of you remembered he was just your silly best friend who smelled slightly like fresh-cut grass, sunscreen, and a hint of whatever remained of his tropical cologne. 

“The usuals?” You beamed, flashing your best customer service smile at the group, already reaching for the bottle of top-shelf whiskey displayed behind you. You received hoots and hollers along the lines of “Yes, please” from the group. Jeonghan slips behind the bar as you expertly begin to prepare drinks for the parched golfers. Normally, this was frowned upon, but Jeonghan had most of the country club supervisors wrapped around his finger. 

Jeonghan’s quick to sort through the fridge right off to your side, squatting and contemplating his options, but you have to smack his hand away from the cooler once you notice his deft fingers are reaching for a plastic shooter of whiskey.

“Y/N,” Jeonghan practically cries out, whining similar to a little boy being scolded, but he’s just your immature best friend who has a knack for trouble and stealing. You can’t always let him get away with everything. 

“You kleptomaniac, don’t you dare,” you joke, routinely preparing the drinks, laughing at the puppy dog eyes that are flashed in your direction and then back to the cold fridge. You bend down next to him, whispering quietly so that no one but Jeonghan can hear. “Wait until later, today’s manager has been keeping inventory of the alcohol as if they personally own it all. I can sneak some after my shift when I cash out.” 

Jeonghan’s pout morphs into a smirk, a devious glint in his eyes as he holds out his pinky finger. You comply, wrapping your pinky with his to silently promise that you’ll follow through later. 

“Meet at hole 12? Right at the hill behind the trees? It’s still the best spot for fireworks.” Jeonghan speaks as if it’s a secret mission - as if it’s not the same spot you’ve met to watch fireworks for the last few years working at the country club. 

“Oh, I thought we’d check out the views at hole 17 this year,” you roll your eyes mockingly, Jeonghan knows you’re messing with him, but it’s your smile that betrays your teasing, “Duh, Jeonghan. I’ll catch you there later.” 

“You know hole 17 is where Mingyu and Arin lost their virginity to each other last year,” Jeonghan pokes, settling on bottled water from the fridge and standing back up, towering over your own figure. You feel your cheeks flush, a bit flustered he’d drop that information so casually, and sure as hell hoping he didn’t think that you were suggesting anything. 

You didn’t see Jeonghan in that way, he didn’t see you in that way. Plain and simple. You two were only best friends and that’s how it would always be. 

“That’s gross, Jeonghan,” you scowl, willing away the blush that is still burning your face as you finish garnishing the drinks. “Don’t air out people’s secrets like that. That’s personal. Plus, why would I know that?” 

Jeonghan chuckles, shrugging as he helps you carry the drinks over to the golfers who have made themselves comfortable among the shaded seating outside the bar area, an outdoor fan helping cool them down. They all clamor in delight as Jeonghan and you emerge from behind the bar with the chilled drinks, quick to "cheers" each other before savoring the first sip of their beverages. 

There are smacks and sighs of delight from the group, your pride growing as they approve of the drinks, and gather up some cash for a tip. Jeonghan nudges you, urging you to accept the bills from Mr. Choi, a polite older man who continues to take care of Jeonghan and you each summer. He’s never been creepy, and he tips very well. You still feel slightly guilty each time you accept cash from him. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi,” you speak graciously, accepting the tip, quickly shoving it into your pocket without checking the amount, and earning an approving thumbs up from the man as he takes another sip of his cocktail. 

“Save it wisely, Y/N,” Mr. Choi chimes, humming in thought, and eyes flickering between where you and Jeonghan stand. “Jeonghan tells me you’re both attending the same university in a few months. Heard you’ve both received a pretty good scholarship, even one from the club?” 

“That is correct, sir,” you nod excitedly. Not only had you both received an academic scholarship from your university, but all your years working at the club have paid off in a way you wouldn’t have imagined, earning a scholarship from the Lakewood Country Club members' foundation. “I am grateful to have received such an award. Don’t worry, I’ll make good use of it. I know Jeonghan will too. You’d never guess, but he’s a straight A student,” you tease, hiding your mouth only for Mr. Choi to see as if Jeonghan can’t hear you, and elbowing your friend in the rib cage, earning a pained groan from him. 

Mr. Choi nods in approval, a smile creeping onto his face as he chuckles at the dynamic between you two. “Glad to know my money is going towards two bright futures.” Jeonghan is pushing your bony elbow away, annoyed at your enthusiasm and teasing, further amusing Mr. Choi. “Jeonghan, make sure you don’t lose sight of Y/N during University, all sorts of partners will be chasing her. She’s intelligent and beautiful. Don’t want her forgetting about you now, do you?”

Jeonghan would groan if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Mr. Choi speaking to him. He has to restrain himself from shoving you away as well, knowing that Mr. Choi has inflated your ego a bit too much with his praise. Nonetheless, Jeonghan plays into it. “Nope, she’s stuck with me, so don’t even worry about it.”

You almost laugh out loud, reminding yourself to remain professional on the course as you fire back. “As if, Jeonghan couldn’t get rid of me even if he wanted to.” 

“Valid point,” Jeonghan grumbles, teasingly pushing you back towards the bar as if reminding you of your duties, sick of hearing the constant praise that only you’re receiving, even though there have been no additional visitors since Jeonghan’s entourage of golfers arrived. He’s quick to enthusiastically round up the crew, realizing daylight will quickly dwindle by the last hole if they don’t start back up soon. “Welp, we better let Y/N continue to work. Ready for hole 10?” 

The men are quick to gather, knocking back the remainder of their drinks, and returning to their carts as Jeonghan helps you clean up the finished glasses, your shoulders bumping into each other as you two push your way back into the bar. Mr. Choi sends a knowing look Jeonghan’s way, neither of you catching it as he wishes you a nice Fourth of July. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi!” You wave to the man, bidding the rest of the golfing crew a nice holiday as well before turning to Jeonghan who’s finished carrying over the rest of the empty glasses. “Catch you later, Hannie?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan’s eyes lit up yet again upon hearing his childhood nickname, and is reminded of the nearing shenanigans later this afternoon. Maybe he’ll steal some snacks from the members gifting table for tonight. “I’ll see you then stay cool, Y/N!”

“You as well! Make sure to reapply your sunscreen,” you shout back, watching as Jeonghan hops in the cart with Mr. Choi and rolls his eyes at your nagging. Mr. Choi gets one final laugh before Jeonghan drives off, the entourage of golfers following closely behind. 

You’re finishing cleaning up the bar, pulling the cash from your pocket earlier and gasping upon realizing just how much Mr. Choi had tipped you. A five-hundred dollar tip. It was surely the most you’ve ever made in one round of drinks, absolutely unwarranted, and it made you feel a bit teary-eyed. You knew you couldn’t dare to return it, as Mr. Choi would definitely be offended, but you felt extremely lucky to have such nice members visit you at the halfway house, you’d have to thank him eventually. 

The rest of the day went quickly, and, much to your delight, you had made enough tips to support a chunk of your tuition and expenses for the year. Also, your manager had swapped shifts with another supervisor mid-day, who was not as hawklike. 

Leading up to the completion of your shift, you had snuck a pair of alcoholic shooters into your uniform skirt. Even in your attempt to be rebellious, you couldn’t just steal the shooters, using some of your tip money to cover the cost of the alcohol and you felt less criminal. You knew Jeonghan would tease you relentlessly about this if he was here, each shooter was no more than $3 each, but you had a knack for doing the “right thing,” or else you feared karma would get you in the long run. 

Upon reaching the end of your shift, you stopped back at the employee locker room to safely store your tips in your purse. The day had been hot, but it was cooling down now that night was approaching. 

Ultimately, you opt to throw on a sweatshirt, one that Jeonghan had purchased when you two had toured your university, which was the same one that he’d worn so many times that it’s the most comfortable piece of clothing you own. One that he couldn’t deny you of when you begged to keep it, secretly thinking that you looked cute in it even though you were practically swimming in the fabric. Disgusted that he’d even thought that, he dismissed you quickly and said you could keep it. 

The sun was setting minute by minute, meaning that Jeonghan’s shift would be finishing very soon, and you packed away the remainder of your items in your employee locker, double-checking that your skirt still had the tiny plastic alcohol bottles hidden away. 

After confirming you had said shots, you headed out to hole 12 with a spring in your step. It was a meeting spot you and Jeonghan had found your summer after freshman year of high school. There was a hill behind a bunch of trees that overlooked the valley where the main portion of the country club was located. No one was allowed on the course during after-hours, but this spot was so dark and secluded that you two hadn’t been caught yet. It was also the prime viewing spot for the club’s fireworks show, and it was your little secret. 

You were first to make it to the spot, plopping down on the hill and huffing in relief. Your legs ached a little from standing all day. The grass beneath you was dewy from the cool nighttime air, the humid heat from the day settling on the greenery, and it was almost enough to make you feel itchy. However, you don’t mind it, not when you have the fireworks show to look forward to. You would never mind the damp grass, especially not when you had a favorite summer tradition to share with your favorite person, your best friend. 

Jeonghan’s shift ended a bit later than yours, but he didn’t arrive at the spot much later than you. He meant to grab a bag of popcorn or something, but he didn’t want to leave you hanging for too long. 

Jeonghan tried to sneak up on you, but you’re too smart, too knowing of his antics. So when you turn around knowingly, with two opened Whiskey shooters in hand, he chuckles almost maniacally at your annoyed expression that doesn’t fully translate into your impish eyes. You two were one and the same. 

“What are you waiting for, Hannie? These shots aren’t getting any colder. Not when they’ve been in my skirt for the past hour.”

“Eugh, now you’re the one oversharing,” Jeonghan groans in disapproval, sitting down next to you on the grass, and gratefully accepting the shot regardless of your TMI comment. Your knees knock each other as you turn to face him, but a friendly touch isn’t foreign to either of you. “You’re the gross one, Y/N.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you giggle, holding the shot out in front of him and teasingly shaking the plastic bottle. You sing song, “The night’s not getting any younger either.”  

Nodding in acknowledgment, Jeonghan smirks and shares a few words, “Cheers to our last summer before we’re miserable college students. Cheers to fewer hours spent in the heat at this country club. Cheers to our everlasting friendship.” 

With his final words, you’re both knocking back your shots, groaning in unison as the spicy drink burns and settles in your stomach, instantly warming your body at the sensation. Your face scrunches up at the taste and Jeonghan can’t help but laugh uncontrollably.

“Stop it,” you whine, your voice a bit hoarse from the alcohol but smiling nonetheless. “You aren’t any better than me. Anyways, that's enough for me tonight.”

“True,” Jeonghan contemplates, but he’s quick to poke you. “But I didn’t struggle as bad as you did.” 

“Touché,” you hum, nudging Jeonghan’s shoulder excitedly as a warning firework darts into the sky, indicating the show will be beginning shortly. “It’s starting!” 

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan is groaning at your bony elbow yet again digging into him, but he’s delighted by your excitement regardless, shoving you back as you begin to readjust for the show. “Calm down, it’s nothing crazy.” 

“No, Jeonghan,” you grin, turning your head to fully make eye contact with his wide eyes, joy flickering in your own as you peer at your best friend. “It’s nothing crazy, but it’s absolutely so special because once again we get to enjoy it here together.” 

Your emphasis on the word together almost makes him shiver, a foreign feeling rushing through him as you continue to gaze at him with those wild eyes of yours, gulping as he hesitantly nods, even though he wholeheartedly agrees it is special, but he’s not exactly sure why. “Very true,” and as if on cue, the fireworks show begins, relief flooding through him as you redirect your gaze and squeal in excitement. 

Jeonghan doesn’t understand why, but his heart pounds in his chest throughout the entire show. He thinks maybe it’s the alcohol (you and he rarely have dared to sneak alcohol before), maybe it’s the overstimulation of the fireworks, maybe it’s the thrill of knowing the golf course guards could spot you any year and escort you away, or maybe it’s the way your knee keeps brushing his thigh reminding him of just how close you two are. How much you are together here alone, just like every other summer. 

It’s a feeling he decides to ignore for the rest of the fireworks, letting himself lay back on the damp grass with you and listening as you enthusiastically point out your favorite fireworks, bickering with you when he thinks a different type of firework is prettier. 

It’s a feeling he continues to ignore as the finale comes and goes, chest fluttering at the way your eyes sparkle with golden reflections of the fireworks in the sky, and once again quickly redirecting his gaze to anything but you. 

It’s a feeling he tries his damnedest to ignore as you both continue to lay in the grass post-fireworks. Neither one of you making the first move to go home. Maybe you thought this would be the final moment of normalcy between you and Jeonghan before starting university, knowing that all friendships are bound to change with such a new chapter. Maybe he thought he’d figure out whatever it was he was feeling if he just stayed here with you a moment longer. 

It’s a feeling he struggles to ignore as you both fall into deep conversation. The one shot of alcohol makes you both loose-lipped as you reminisce on embarrassing high school stories. Reminiscing on your shitty boyfriend who broke up with you before the summer. Reminiscing on your years of friendship. 

It’s a feeling he no longer can ignore when you roll over, lips pouting and eyes teary as you start to feel emotional about your recent breakup. Something in him feels like it shatters when you ask, “Have you ever been in love before, Hannie?” 

#seventeen smut #svthub #jeonghan smut #jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen fic #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x y/n

[voxmortuus]

I'm sorry the Hanniheads have been so rude to you. Ironic considering what he dies to the rude lollol. Take your time. There's no rush :)

This is sooooo not self indulgent lmao i was wondering about a yandere Hannibal waking up and his darling is totally gone. Her shoes are still there, all her stuff. He searches every where for her and finally finds her outside, having sleep walked all the way to the edge of the woods.

I sleep walk, I once woke up stirring an empty pot on the stove. Thank God my mom heard the commotion. I was around 12 at the time, now I'm 27 and it's calmed down a lot. I still laugh in my sleep from time to time, bonus points if you could perhaps include the reader laughing in her sleep?

►PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 650 ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Panicked Hannibal | Possessive Hannibal | Worried Hannibal | Sleepwalking Reader | Sleep Laughing Reader | Some fluff | Hannibal Watching You Sleep | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Thank you for understanding. It has not been a fun experience, some aren't so bad and I appreciate them and others, well, they make me not want to write for the Hannifans. You know what's funny, is my wife and I were talking about that just the other day! Sleep walking can be terrifying! At least you were safe! Anywho, I hope this meets your request and finds you well. Sorry it took so long, it's been a crazy past few weeks! I hope this finds you well and safe. ►IMAGE CREDIT: I found this gif here. It is not mine nor do I claim any ownership. This gif does not belong to me. I found it on an outside source. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist

A void, an empty void. He could feel it, the bed felt cold, like it had been emptied for a long while. Hannibal shoots up looking over to see your side of the bed is empty, and cold.

"Where did you go?" He asked aloud, but low and behold no answer. His brow furrowed. "Y/N!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called out, but nothing still.

He looks around the bedroom, and all over the upstairs, you've got to be somewhere. He kept repeating in his head. He didn't like that you weren't here, his heart raced, he panicked a bit, and felt this obsessive need to find you. Where could you have gone, you couldn't have gone far. Calling your phone didn't help, you turned it off, but why? Why did you turn it off tonight? That was slightly unlike you.

Hanibal's brow furrows again, finding your phone on the bathroom sink. He leaves it there before he heads down the stairs. Looking around and sees your things are still here, your bag, your shoes, and the front door wide open. Where did you go?

He feels this deeper panic, did you get taken? Did you run away and leave everything here? He started to worry even more, feeling this deeper need to find you. He steps out of the front door and calls for you, but you do not respond. His jaw clenches and he starts to look around outside, walking the property until he looks in the grass and sees footprints, and he follows them.

The ground was wet from the dew, your feet were covered in blades of grass, some dirt specks, your night shirt hung off your body, swaying in the wind as the bottom of it brushed against your legs. You stood there, just staring into the black void of the woods. What were you looking at? What was it you were seeing? What was calling you? You just stood there, watching, swaying slightly, not aware of the chill of the summer night.

Upon following your footprints Hannibal find you, he knows waking you can be a problematic situation, so he guides you back inside. Blinking a few times, you look over at him and tilt your head.

"Were they not calling you, my Love?" you ask.

Hannibal shakes his head. "No, my Darling, they were not, I'm not as special as you are. Come now, back in bed." He states softly.

"Do you think they'll call for you one day?" You ask.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, my Darling, I do not." He states softly as he gets you back into bed and covers you up.

The moment your head hits that pillow you're back asleep, but afraid you'll wander off again, he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and watches you. Like hell you're going to leave him. The idea of that happening angered him, but he wasn't going to take it out on you. He just truly didn't like the idea, it made him sick and aggressive and overly possessive.

Watching you, he pays close attention to your motions, maybe he can find a way to fix this, you didn't do it often, but when you did, it scared him each time. It was this little bubble in his chest that grew and grew each time he woke up and you weren't there. You scared him, you scared him deeply, and he didn't like that.

With a small moment of silence, he thought he heard you giggle, so he listened a little closer. Sure enough, you were giggling. A soft tilt of his head, and soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"How adorable." He spoke softly, shaking his head he let out a breath and leaned back in his chair and sat there watching you, making sure you weren't going to leave his side again.

#hannibal imagine #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal fluff #hannibal angst #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter imagine #Hannibal oneshot #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #Mads Mikkelsen gif #hannibal lecter angst #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal gifs #hannibal nbc #hannibal netflix #mads mikkelsen #VoxMortuus

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 21:37 ⏤POOL BOY!

SUM. : james gets himself a summer job cleaning rich people's pools and finds himself frequenting a particular household, not that he's complaining

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; pool boy james ; rich daughter reader

LENGTH : 1.4k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“Are you able to do it today?” the man at the door asks as he reaches into his back pocket for something. James was just about to agree when the man pulled out a wad of cash from his wallet, “I’ll pay you upfront, is £100 enough?”

Puffing out his chest and grinning widely, James nods, “That’s perfect sir, thank you, I’ll start right away,”

“Great, come with me,” the man leads him through the spacious house and out to the back garden which had a relatively impressive looking pool taking up the space, “the wind lately has swept a lot of the leaves into the pool and it’s a mess; my daughter has been itching for a swim as well so I’m sure she’ll be happy with this. Thanks uhh…” James grasps the man’s outstretched hand for a shake, still beaming. 

“It’s James, sir,”

“I’m Richard, you can find all the pool cleaning equipment you need in that shed over there,” he points to a shed at the far corner of the back garden, “don’t worry about the lock, it’s not fastened. Thanks again, James,” as soon as Richard leaves to re-enter the house, James gets to work on the pool. There’s a distant shout from within the home and thudding footfalls but James pays it no mind, happy with the easy work and the new addition to his university allowance for the following academic year. 

Half an hour passes and the pool is pristine again; James smiles to himself, proud of his hard work, while wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of hand. 

“Hey!” James snaps his head around to see the most gorgeous girl he has ever seen walking up to him in a flowy summer dress. Doesn’t she know how crazy guys get over girls in cute summer dresses? He was about to make a fool of himself but quite composes his exterior, it's not how he was raised nor how he wants to be seen since he can make the safe assumption that you’re Richard’s daughter, “Thanks for cleaning up our pool,” you grin up at James and reach out to shake his hand, “you’re James, right?”

“Uhh, yeah, nice to meet you…” he shakes your hand after wiping the sweat off his palms on his cargo shorts. 

“I’m (Y/N), a pleasure,” you then turn to the clean pool, your smile beaming, “I can’t wait to take a swim! You did a great job,”

“Please,” James bows whilst gesturing to the pool, “it’s ready for all your swimming pleasure,” James’s smile grows wider at your twinkling laugh. 

“Thank you very much once again, sir James,” you do a cute little curtsy with the skirt of your short dress and James is smiling fondly at you, a rosy blush flourishing over his cheeks from how cute you were.

“Well, I should really leave you to it,” James starts, not really wanting to leave since you’re so captivating but knows that he shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

“Oh, before you go,” you pipe up, “would you mind giving us your phone number for when we need our pool cleaned again?” James hesitates for a moment, not expecting your offer but he didn’t want to reject such a cute girl either - even if you only wanted his number to clean your pool. 

“I think that’s a great idea, princess,” a familiar voice adds and James turns to see Richard stepping out of the house with a grin. 

“Right, dad?” you agree giddily before finding James a pen and a sticky note to write his number on before he leaves with his cash payment.

Once he’s gone your dad turns to you with a raised brow and amused eyes, “any and all extra pool cleaning jobs are coming right out of your monthly allowance,”

“Dad!” you whine and playfully stomp your feet. 

“There’s a price on love that, even you, are not exempt from, princess,”

Your dad wasn’t kidding when he said extra calls for James to clean the pool came from your allowance but that was a small price to pay for getting to know the new pool boy. It didn’t take too long for your mom to rationalise your antics and, thankfully, she finds it just as amusing as your dad. After a couple meetings with James, she playfully gave you a thumbs up in secret when you were making a quick snack for James in the kitchen. Clearly, she approves of him.

“He’s polite, hard working and very handsome,” she commented as you nodded along. The both of you shared a quick squeal of excitement together before you moved to give James a love-filled snack during his break cleaning. It felt nice to have your parents' support when it came to James, especially when it meant that you could get away with keeping James at the house long after he finished cleaning the pool.

Over the summer, you really got to know him and found him to be more and more beguiling after every encounter, long or short. The more you got to know him, the more you got to witness the allure in his boyish grin, his charmingly tousled hair and mesmerising hazel eyes peering behind round glasses. It was becoming hard to just have him as your pool boy. 

“You know…” James muses as you set down a tray of lemonade and pretzels on the table beside him. He was currently taking a quick break in the lounge area beside the pool and it was the perfect time for you to join him as usual, with snacks, “I’m starting to think that I’m not here so much just to clean your guys’s pool,” he lets out a short, nervous laugh, as if insecure about his own speculation. James has never earned so much in one summer thanks to you and your family needing your pool cleaned at least three times a week but no family needs their pool cleaned this often - it was odd. Two days ago, he only needed to take out a floating leaf from the centre of the pool and he felt too guilty to accept full payment for such a modest job. He wasn’t complaining but he doesn’t think he can stand being your pool boy much longer if he wants to keep things professional. 

His pool cleaning jobs at your house were so quick and easy that you often invited him to stay longer and keep you company while you went for a swim in the same pool that he so graciously cleaned for you. Sometimes, you would just sit outside with James and talk for hours about anything and everything under the sun. Any time spent with you wasn’t taxing either, unlike some girls in the past, who complicated things for no reason. 

James would be blind to say that you weren’t beautiful, in fact, you weren’t just beautiful but enchanting as well. He feels at ease speaking to you like it’s the easiest thing to do in the world, you listen to him earnestly, value his opinions, laugh often at his jokes, share the same humour and he just feels so refreshed every time you make snacks or drinks for him. Needless to say, you have James wrapped around your little finger. He wants more with you than just being your pool boy but from his unfortunate history with girls in the past, you’re just too good to be true that James made himself believe you’re only like this because he works for you. 

“More than just to clean our pool?...” you muse to yourself as James takes a sip of the lemonade, “Maybe you’re right,” James almost spits out the lemonade he was drinking as you sit down in the chair beside him and giggle at his surprised expression. 

“Wh-what?”

“Maybe I call you over here often because I like your company, James,” you explain and the way you said his name was so hypnotic, James had to take a moment before he could properly respond. 

“You mean it?” His resemblance to an expectant puppy is so uncanny that if he had a tail it would be wagging furiously. 

“I tell no lies,” you say with a wink as James smiles widely at you. 

“Then…” he bites his lip, nervous despite being quite confident in what your answer may be to his following proposal, “are you free this Saturday?”

A/N : i have so many aus for james, it's unreal - they just suit him so well! that or im just obsessed with this man, which i will not deny. also, i just picked the most dad name i could think of for yn's father here, sorry XD thank you everyone for being patient with me and my absence recently too, you're all amazing!

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains ; @celestcies ; @lovelydoveval ; @inlovewithremusjohnlupin ; @calums-betch ; @futurecorps3 ; @hihihi1112 ; @ghostgardn

NAVI.

#james potter x you #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #𐂂 : timestamp

[clovermunson]

king hargrove — b. hargrove

summary: billy never saw himself as a dad, but he’d never trade his two little girls for anything— even when they ask him to dress up like a princess and have a tea party with them.

warnings: tooth-rooting fluff. like eating two bags of cotton candy and chasing it with a 72 oz. big gulp soda at the state fair. brief mentions of billy’s upbringing (not detailed). bee’s full name is beatrice but she’s called bee. oh and a mention of mechanic!billy. no use of “y/n”. first fic i’ve written and actually finished in…months? i think?? that’s about it really.

pairings: billy hargrove x fem/mom!reader

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i told y’all motherfuckers i was gonna give billy something happy, and here it is!! it’s the most i’ve written in about two weeks and y’all can thank this lovely goon: @bookshelf-dust for that. anyway, as always likes and reblogs (especially reblogs) are greatly appreciated, i just ask that you DO NOT copy and repost my writing and claim it as your own!! — xo, morgan🖤

Billy Hargrove was many things. A bad influence, a womanizer, some might even say an antagonizer, of sorts. And while he’d agree to being all of those things before he met you, if someone would’ve told him that he’d become the father to a little girl in the spring of 1989, and then again in the summer of 1991, he would’ve told them they were crazy.

But now as he sat at the ridiculously small white dining table set, on the floor with his legs outstretched rather than in one of the dainty chairs that he was sure would crumble under his weight, he was certain that he wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

“Daddy, you gotta wear it.” Bee, your youngest daughter, had shoved a pink feather boa at him, making him jump back.

“Pleeeease? And this?” Juno, your eldest daughter had asked, holding a tiny plastic tiara out to him, “pretty please?”

“Okay okay.” Billy held his hands up, finally accepting defeat before letting Juno place the tiara on his head as he took the boa, wrapping the feathered accessory around his neck, then smiling for his girls.

Lord, if the guys at the mechanic shop knew about this, they’d never stop giving him hell over it.

“You look pretty.” Juno giggled at him as she pretended to pour two cups of tea.

“Pretty, huh?” Billy chuckled, “I don’t think the pink goes with my shirt.” He tugged at the material of his dark red shirt, showing how it contrasted.

“Oh well.” Bee shrugged, “gotta wear it.”

“Bossy.” Billy couldn’t help but laugh at the miniature version of himself, but if anyone asked where Bee got it from, he’d say it was from you.

“Get it from my daddy.” Bee didn’t miss a beat with her response, further showing just how much she was like her dad. All Billy could do was smile to himself, knowing that she was right.

Before he knew it, Juno had offered him an empty teacup, and he’d be damned if he turned it down. The floral patterned cup was abnormally tiny in his hand, but he still brought it up to his lips, pretending to take a drink.

“Pinky up.” Juno was quick to correct him, wiggling her tiny pinky at him.

At first, Billy looked confused. Why did he need to have his pinky up?

He felt Bee’s little hand grab at his, trying her hardest to raise his pinky.

“You’ve gotta put your pinky up, daddy.” She tried to pry his pinky from the tiny cup handle, giggling as Billy fought back with her.

“Daddy!” She whined, pouting at him. It didn’t take much for Bee to get her way. All she had to do was get those big ocean blue eyes a little misty, and she’d convince anyone to get her whatever she wanted— mostly her dad and her uncle Steve.

“Alright, alright.” Billy raised his pinky, waving it at Bee, “better?”

Bee simply nodded, appeased with her dad’s actions as she sipped her fake-tea.

You’d been carrying a basket full of laundry when you’d heard the giggling coming from the girls’ room. Instead of going on your way to the laundry room, you’d stopped just out of sight, leaning against the wall beside the doorway to listen in. Though you had to admit, seeing Billy in a tiara was quite the spectacle.

“You’re the king of the castle!” Juno exclaimed, quickly jumping up from the wooden chair to twirl around, her yellow polka-dot skirt twisting around her, the sleeves of her white blouse flowing from the small breeze she’d created.

“Is that so?” Billy watched as Bee joined in with her sister, both of them twirling around the table, skipping and jumping over their scattered toys.

“Mhm.” Bee agreed, “you’re the king. The king makes the rules.”

“I dunno about that, kiddo.” Billy snorted, “I would say I’m pretty influential around here though.”

“Infuwentual?” Bee stopped in her tracks, a bewildered look on her face. She struggled with the word, but Billy had quickly realized his mistake by using a big word.

“Influential.” He gently corrected her, “it means that daddy’s got a lot to do and say with what happens around here.”

Bee nodded, seemingly understanding the meaning of the new word. “So you make all the rules?”

“Not necessarily, babygirl.” Billy shook his head, smiling. “I do get to help make them though.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.” Bee crossed her arms, expressing that she didn’t agree with that decision— or whoever made it. Clearly an attitude she’d picked up from her father.

You smiled to yourself at that. Of course you and Billy made the rules together, and it was a very delicate balance of give and take between the two of you. But if your little girl could have it her way, she’d be running the world in no longer than two weeks’ time.

“But that’s how the world works, Bee.” Billy shrugged, “what can you do?”

Bee sat for a moment, seemingly contemplating her choices. Finally she spoke, and her little voice carried so much certainty with it, that even you were sure you’d let her have whatever she demanded. “Become the queen.”

“You wanna become the queen, is that right?” Billy couldn’t believe what he was hearing, feigning shock.

Bee nodded proudly, her plastic tiara nearly falling from her head.

“Well, you’ve gotta be a princess for now.” Billy had made it fairly obvious that he could match his daughter’s sass, “you do such a good job at that already.” He adjusted her tiara, making sure it was straight again.

“‘Course I do.” Bee sounded almost offended, “I am the princess.” She annunciated the word, only to add emphasis.

“Yeah, the mean princess.” Juno stuck her tongue out at her younger sister, knowing that Bee would retaliate.

“How rude!” Bee tossed one of the little building blocks at Juno, pouting.

“Meanie.” Juno threw a block back at her, which Billy had caught with astonishingly quick reflexes, making both of his daughters’ eyes widen.

“Girls.” Billy’s voice was firm, yet gentle with them, “that’s enough.”

“Sorry…” both girls mumbled, afraid to even look at each other.

“Neither of you are in trouble.” Billy felt the need to clarify, as he always felt like the bad guy when he had to scold them, “you just can’t call each other names and be mean to each other.”

The girls nodded in unison, showing that they understood the ground rules.

Since Billy had become a father, he’d become more gentle and less abrasive. He’d never once yelled at either of your girls, choosing to raise them with the kind of gentleness and unconditional love that you’d find in a family movie— the kind of home that Billy wasn’t lucky enough to have growing up.

He’d be damned if he didn’t give his little girls the best life they could possibly have though. Juno was the surprise baby, and sure money got tight at times, but he always worked extra shifts and overtime to make sure she had everything she needed and wanted. Then when Bee came along, Billy had been promoted to assistant manager, which came with a nice paycheck every week that was more than enough to support your little family.

Instead of continuing on to the laundry room, you decided instead to turn on your heel, heading back to the living room with a bright, almost dopey smile on your face from witnessing possibly the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. You set the basket of laundry down on the couch, making your way to the kitchen where you began to prepare dinner.

After about twenty minutes, Billy had gotten himself out of the princess tea party by claiming that he had ‘kingly duties’ to attend to, and while the girls were upset over it, they allowed him to leave.

“Mmm,” Billy hummed as he approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, then he inhaled the aroma of the kitchen, “whatcha making?”

“Spaghetti.” You responded with a giggle, “or as Bee calls it, ‘pasghetti’.”

“She’ll get it eventually.” Billy chuckled, “she’s got her mama’s brains for sure.”

“And your attitude.” You laughed, scrunching your nose, “what a killer combo.”

“Tell me about it.” Billy grinned, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your neck.

“William.” You scolded him, giggling as you shimmied out of his grasp, “not here.”

Before Billy could even put some space between the two of you, Juno and Bee had come barreling down the stairs, stopping just at the threshold between the kitchen and living room.

“Can we have ice cream for dinner?” They both asked, their puppy dog eyes on full display.

You looked at Billy, a brow arched as you continued to stir the pasta noodles.

“Don’t look at me.” Billy held his hands up, shaking his head, giving you that million-dollar smile of his, “I didn’t tell them they could”.

“But you’re the king!” Bee shouted, the anticipation was clear in her voice.

“And if the king says we can have ice cream for dinner…” Juno trailed off, looking up at her dad.

“I may be the king, but mama’s the queen. What she says goes around here.” Billy leaned over to press a kiss to your temple, knowing that the girls wouldn’t even try to argue with you over it. “Even I can’t get her to change her mind.”

Juno sulked, padding over to her chair at the table, seemingly having accepted defeat.

Bee took a big whiff of the air, then smiled. “Mama, is that pasghetti?”

“It is spaghetti”. You gently corrected, knowing she still wouldn’t say it right anyway. “Go sit at the table with your sister and I’ll make you a plate.”

“Okay.” She chirped, nearly sprinting to the dining table, taking the seat right next to Juno.

Billy watched as the girls chatted amongst themselves, their senseless babbling making his chest swell with pride and an almost overwhelming sense of joy. Everything he never knew he needed was right in front of him, and he wouldn’t trade it for the anything. He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he felt that warm sense of comfort wash over him that he’d been waiting years for.

Seeing the opportunity to tease your husband, you took it without so much as a second thought, though you kept your focus on making dinner.

“You may be the king, but you make a pretty princess too.”

Billy’s eyes darted over to you, and he smirked to himself. He knew that arguing was pointless, because the queen was always right.

#this shit killed me to write #cutest shit i’ve ever written #girl!dad!billy can have my life #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #clovermunson’s fics #morgan’s writings

[brackishkittie]

crazy in love, dina woodward

— dina woodward x black!reader

synopsis: dina as a gf whose literally infatuated with you.

c/n: pretty suggestive, but mostly just fluff!

a/n: was so excited to finally write smth for my bby dina I love her sm!!!

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who loves physical touch and quality time. she loves just laying next to you and admiring all of the features on your face while caressing your face with a big smile on hers.

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who helps you get ready when you guys are going out anywhere, like on a date.

“baby can you help me please?” you ask her while struggling to put on your earrings because you two were kinda late. “was waiting for you to ask me.” she giggles and quickly helps you put your earrings on. “you look beautiful..” she says as she stares at you through the vanity mirror, she adores her gf so much.

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who lovessssss kissing you to wake you up, kissing you before bed, and kissing you even when you’re wide awake and focused on something.

“are you done yettttt?..” she whines, she’s been trying to get your attention for awhile but you were too busy doing whatever you were doing. “almost done baby..just give me like five more minutes.” you say to her but she no longer wanted to wait and just started kissing all over your face which made you two erupt into laughter. “hey stop! that tickles! diiii get off of meeee!!!” “try to stop me then!”

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who loves playing with your hair. she loves playing with your braids, your twists, locs, etc. she oils your scalp for you and even learned how to do cornrows for you anytime you felt like wearing a wig. she’s always ready and willing to do something for her girl.

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who rewatches your story every single time you post yourself. she just be cheesin at her damn phone, watchin her gf look good. ( she don’t even care abt the music startin over, it doesn’t even bother her. all she cares about is her beautiful gf on the screen. )

“dina it’s been ten minutes take ts off now.” “ok fine one more time…OUUUUU look at my baby! I gotta watch it again just hold on.” “DINAAAAAA!!”

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who sets you as her lock and home screen wallpaper so EVERYBODY and I mean EVERYBODYYYYY knows that you’re her girl and if they don’t get it by then, then they’ll be sure to know by the way she CONSTANTLY brings you up in every single conversation she has with anybody even if it has nothing to do with what they’re talking about.

“so I’ve been deciding on whether I should surprise my-” “omg my girlfriend loves surprises!” “???..what?..”

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who loves baking and cooking with you. you guys made cinnamon rolls one time and all you two cared about was just the smell of cinnamon and love in the air. the faint noise of summer walker playing in the back from the tv and you two laughing.

“yk what this icing reminds me of baby?” “dina you are absolutely insane…” “OH COME ON!” “YOU ARE A NASTY NASTYYYY WOMAN DINA.” “you love me though.” “shut up.”

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who gets jealous when she feels as if someone is gettin a little bit too friendly with you…if they compliment you on your hair in a way she thinks was flirting, she’ll take matters into her own hands and start mean muggin them, palming your ass, grabbin your waist..she would do anything to make it known that you were hers.

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who I personally believe is a switch, she loves taking control most of the time but when you’re in control? GODDDDDD THAT WOMAN TURNS FERAL. she turns into putty in your hands, like she’s literally in love with you. you can just touch her in the slightest and she’ll already have goosebumps trailing up her skin.

☆ﾟ— gf!dina who has you as her gorgeous passenger princess. she keeps her hand rested on your thigh or when at a red light, takes it as a chance to just admire you and take in your beautiful features once again. ( sometimes she doesn’t even realize the light is green and snaps out of it once she hears the loud honk of another driver behind you two. 😭😭 )

tags: @mariefilms @machetegirl109 🫧

#brackishkittie #dina x you #dina nolastname #dina woodward #dina tlou #dina the last of us #dina x reader #dina x black!reader #dina x fem reader #dina x y/n

[eagerbby]

night moves | e.m

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| realistically, you can only run from your feelings for so long. being trapped at steve harrington’s lake house with eddie munson during the worst storm of the summer presents an interesting opportunity. 

an| just some late summer vibes. once again not canon, but i imagine it would take place after the events of season 4. lightly inspired by one of my favorite songs; bob segers ‘night moves’. 18+

warnings| 9k+ words, lots of angst in this one, drug use, jealous! eddie, skinny dipping if you squint, hand job, oral (male receiving), PnV (wrap it up folks), lots of fluff, light sub! eddie, light dom! reader 

You didn’t want it to seem like you were running away, because you weren’t. But you did need to escape the confines of Steve’s lake house before you went crazy. You needed to get high, which wasn’t an easy feat at the moment.

The late summer breeze rolled through the trees, cool against your damp skin. You wanted to enjoy the way the summer humidity faded into the night sky as the early tips of autumn shook the leaves of the massive trees covering the property. But every time you tried to light your bowl, the wind blew it right out. Extinguishing the flame instantly. Which led you to your current position, huddled under the gazebo next to the lake covering yourself with the hoodie you grabbed as you made your escape. The hoodie was the perfect block and you finally lit the bud in your precious purple glass bowl and took a long toke. You held the smoke in your lungs long enough to peel the gray material from your body, exhaling a plume of white fog as you sat down in the hammock that hung from the gazebos trusses.

The weed made your fingers tingle and you took a much needed deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Again and again until your shoulders eased and the tapping of your foot ceased. It had been a long couple days. 

When Steve approached you with the idea to gather the masses and go spend a week up at his lake house, you thought he was brilliant. The kids needed the escape, the ability to just be kids after the hell they’d gone through. When you asked who was all going to be there, Steve clammed up a little, offering you a quick, “Oh, you know. You, me, Robin, the kids.” before begging you to come. He didn’t have to beg, you were in the moment he started talking. 

But the day of, Steve arrived with a car full of kids, and Eddie Munson.

Eddie. Fucking. Munson.

It was almost enough to make you not want to go. Not because of Eddie, although he definitely played a role, but because you knew it was a set up. You knew by Robin’s manic smile and the way Steve couldn’t even look at you as you glared at him through the rearview mirror, smushed in the backseat between Dustin and Eddie. 

When you had arrived, you grabbed your friends by the collars of their shirts and pulled them to the side, away from the children and Eddie. 

“What the actual fuck?” You hissed.

“Whatever do you mean?” Robin was trying, and failing, to act perplexed by your annoyance. 

Steve came clean fast, never one to offer himself up to your wrath, snitching on Robin and Dustin. As much as you wanted to be surprised, you weren’t. Robin had snooped through your journal so often she could probably write a book about your life, and Dustin, well he looked at Eddie like he put the moon in the sky. Eddie was his idol, his mentor, and Dustin was nosy. He’d over heard you and Steve one night and had refused to let the little tidbit he found out that night go. Much to your chagrin.  

Steve begged you to be nice, which you were offended by, because you were nice. A little rough around the edges, but definitely nice. Robin, on the other hand, might as well have been rubbing her hands together menacingly. You could see the cogs turning in her head. Her master plan finally coming to fruition. 

The first night was easy, the ten of you sitting around the fire roasting marshmallows, swimming in the lake, Steve telling the worst ghost stories you’d ever heard. Of course ghost stories were nothing in comparison to what all of you had already lived through. You fell asleep next to Robin that night listening to the crickets chirping and the wind through the leaves. 

Day two, you wavered just slightly. You woke up alone, the house oddly quiet. It gave you the chance to smoke, take a shower, and eat something with a little more substance than pizza and s'mores. When you finally walked out onto the front porch you could see your group splashing in the lake, the sun bright and warm. And then you heard it.

It was soft, just the simple strumming of the guitar. You followed the sound blindly, barefoot against the cool wood of the wrap around porch. It didn’t take you long to find him, but it sure did knock you a little breathless at the sight of him. 

He was sitting against a wooden pillar, one long leg hanging off the side of the porch, his acoustic perched on his lap. He was wearing shorts, which was rare, and his Hellfire Club shirt. Admittedly, it was a weird outfit choice but it was undeniably him. He had his eyes closed, not even watching as he strummed the chords of a song you instantly recognized. It was his guilty pleasure song. A song he’d rather go to his grave than admit he liked. But here he was, lazily swinging his leg and smiling softly to himself.

You thought, for a split second, about going over to him. Sitting down cross legged in front of him like you used to. Back when you were a part of his life. But you hadn’t spoken to Eddie in a long time. Things were different. So you walked away from him, much like you had almost a year before. 

Day three and four were full of awkward exchanges and sideways glances. It didn’t take long for the kids to realize something was amiss. The tension every time you two were in the same vicinity was palpable. 

Day five, you came to the realization that everyone was in on Robin’s masterplan. Everyone, except you and Eddie. The two of you were teamed up at every chance possible. It started innocently enough, but soon it became glaringly obvious. You tried to roll with it, refusing to be the reason the week was ruined, but it wasn’t easy being around him. Looking at him proved difficult enough, but being able to smell him, to physically feel his presence, it was starting to unravel you. Especially after the two of you won a game of fruit punch pong and Eddie scooped you off your feet in a victorious hug. It had sent lightning zinging through your body. But then he all but dropped you to your feet. You stood like a statue as he scratched at his head, avoiding looking at you. You could hear the snickers from the kids, see the way Robin smiled proudly. 

Day six came a storm so bad it flooded the driveway separating the property from the main road. Steve promised that that water would rescind soon enough, that you’d only be here a couple extra days. The kids didn’t care, but you felt that knot in your gut. That anxiety at not being able to leave. You all spent the day inside, watching movies and playing board games. Listening to Eddie play guitar and the kids have an impromptu karaoke battle. It was still raining on day seven, and Steve left Eddie in charge as you, him, and Robin walked down the muddy path to the end of the driveway. Except the entire bottom half was completely covered by a steady stream of water. Too deep to drive through. You were stuck. The three of you arrived back to the house with the news, dripping on the porch like a couple wet dogs with mud covered paws. The kids cheered. You and Eddie shared a fleeting, knowing, look.

So here you were, a day after you were supposed to leave, high and alone as thunder rolled in the distance. You could feel the rain coming in, that slight pulse in your foot, the telltale sign of a storm rolling through. Eddie always thought you were crazy when you told him your foot told you it was going to rain. But that small ache in the bone that you had broken back when you were in middle school was never wrong. 

The day had been spent taking advantage of every brief moment of peace from the rain. Steve was being his normal self, which was a total mom, refusing to let the kids out unless they promised to stay out of the mud puddles. Made them go down the row, one by one, saying “I promise not to play in the mud.”, until every last kid had said it. When he finally opened the front door to let them out, they ran out like a herd of bulls, straight for the mud. Steve had the audacity to act surprised, waving his hands and stomping his feet as the kids defied him. 

What a shock. 

Robin and yourself were doubled over, laughing so hard not a sound was heard until you both were gasping for air. Eddie chuckled and clapped his hand over Steve’s shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment before he followed after the gaggle of children, sparring with Dustin whose face was mud brown and cakey.

After showers and a dinner of spaghetti, which you cooked, everyone gathered in the living room. Mike had not so casually suggested a game of truth or dare. You were forced to play. It was fine. Fun even. Lucas dared Steve to lick the bottom of Robin’s foot, which he did, but not without gagging and whining the whole time. 

Dustin was determined to make everyone miserable, dare or not. Two fights had almost broken out between the boys. Once when Dustin dared Mike to eat the very questionable pickles in the back of the Harrington fridge. The problem? Mike hates pickles and swore up and down that he was “very susceptible to food poisoning”. Dustin called bullshit. No pickles were eaten. The second time, Will chose the truth. The question was something about Will purposefully losing the last DnD campaign, which started a whole, very heated, argument. That ended when Steve screamed at everyone to shut up before bopping Dustin upside the head. “Quit being a butthead.”

When it was Eleven’s turn to ask a question, she turned towards you with her big golden brown eyes. She was so innocent. So sweet. You picked the truth, just to appease them since you really didn’t want to play, and she thought to herself for a second and asked, “Have you ever been in love?” 

It was almost like a movie, the way every head in the room had snapped towards you, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t speak at first, pretending like you were seriously thinking about it, while trying to calm your creeping anxiety. You could feel Eddie staring at you like the others, watching the way you shifted on the beanbag you sat on. All that time you two had spent together, those words were never said. But you felt them. Had felt them from the moment he had laid his head on your shoulder that night in his van when he picked you up because you just couldn’t be at home anymore. 

“Yeah, I’ve been in love..” You looked directly at El as you said it, absolutely refused to look anywhere else. It wasn’t an obvious admission, but to the few people in the room that knew, you might as well have sung it from the rooftops. El had smiled at your answer, unaware of the dam she had just shattered, and the game went on. You sat there for another couple rounds before it felt like you were gonna crawl out of your skin. You excused yourself, power walked to your shared room to grab your weed, and grabbed the hoodie off the hook as you raced out the door. 

You didn’t have high hopes that it’d be easy, but you never thought it’d be this hard. Things ended badly between you two. After that night, when he almost died, Eddie was a different person. You understood how hard it was on him. Coming back from the Upside Down irrevocably changed. Injured and still wanted. You stood beside him as he healed, as he and Hopper fought to clear his name. But you felt him pulling away. Could feel yourself losing him no matter how hard you tried to hold on. Then that night, when he told you he couldn’t do it any longer. That whatever you two were, was over. You thought, okay maybe he just needs space. So you gave it to him. Waited around for him to call. Days turned into a month and then another. You knew what he was up to, because despite removing you from his life, he was still friends with your friends. Hanging out, playing gigs at the Hideout, getting high with Robin next to the dumpster behind Family Video. It became all too real. He didn’t need space. He just didn’t need you. 

The rain was pouring down in sheets as you sat in the hammock, nursing your bowl easily now that the wind had shifted. It felt good to be high. To feel the electrified numbness take over your senses. Thunder rumbled in the distance and you swung happily, relishing in the wet smell of the earth, in the swell of the breeze and the occasional cold drop of rain on your toes. You loved storms. Felt like you had one living in your chest. You’d become good at masking the pain of being tossed aside. Leaving it to brew like black storm clouds in your heart. 

You had never put a name on your relationship. You were just friends. Friends who spent maybe a little too much time together. Friends that bonded over music and shitty parents. Friends who fooled around while high or drunk but acted like nothing happened when sober. It was a little confusing, but you grew accustomed to the mystery of it all. It was you and Eddie. That’s the only title it really needed.    

There were moments during the week where things felt like they used to. But then you’d lock eyes with Eddie and the fantasy would come crashing down around you. You couldn’t ever read the expression on his face in those moments. You could tell something was simmering under the surface, but you couldn’t make it out. Your doubt said it was disdain mixed with a little hatred. Your hope said it was longing. That’s why you had to get out of there. The storm clouds in your chest crackled with lightning the moment you said what you did. 

Yeah, I’ve been in love.

He was sitting in that very room. Watching you say what you’d been too scared to. You grew up thinking love was a hopeless, fickle, thing. You swore it off completely. But Eddie had weaseled his way in, made himself at home. 

And then ripped it right out from under your feet. 

Yet stupidly, those feelings still remained. So maybe the weed could bury them back down. At least for the night.  

“Are you alive?” No such luck. 

You raised your heavy head to peer up at the voice. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, but it was a pleasure to see him standing in front of you with his curls all wet. 

“I’m alive. Just high.” You said into the wind. 

“Shit you have weed? I ran out four days ago.” He shuffled closer, eyes darting from the bowl in your hands to your red eyes. That’s a pretty long time for him to go without, so you reach your hand out, offering the bowl to him as you swung to and fro.

“Really? Shit, thanks.” He takes your offer quickly, taking the bowl and holding it to his plush pink lips. You could still remember the way they felt against your skin. The memory made you shiver. 

The two of you stayed in a peaceful silence, passing the bowl back and forth. Your fingers would brush every other pass, his fingers cold against the palm of your hand. It was exhilarating. You missed his touch so much it made your chest heavy. After a while you heard your names being called. Couldn’t quiet the disappointment as you sighed loudly, struggling to leave the hammock. The two of you walked the cobblestone path back to the porch, lingering on a look as you were pulled your separate ways. You went with Robin to the kitchen, Eddie with Dustin to the living room. 

You laid in your bed next to a snoring Robin, hours after everyone had gone to sleep, rubbing the path his fingers had taken on your palm. You could still feel him, the lingering tickle of his skin against yours. Your ability to keep your distance from him was dissolving, fluttering away on butterfly wings every time you caught him watching you with furrowed brows and his big doe eyes. You missed him. Missed him so badly you hated yourself for it. Because you shouldn’t miss someone who threw you to the side without a second thought. 

Maybe you were a glutton for punishment. 

—-

“So what, you’re just gonna stay out here all night?” 

Steve tossed you another pillow, which you fluffed before placing it on the makeshift bed you’d been building in the gazebo for the past hour. The sun was setting, tinting the cloudy sky in shade of red and orange. You had spent the day curled up in the hammock, watching the kids splash around in the lake. Steve and Robin had joined them, getting too competitive at chicken and marco polo, while you read the book you had forgotten you’d packed. 

Eddie had taken up camp just in front of you. Six feet away. Laying on the ledge of the gazebo in only a pair of shorts hung so low on his hips you could trace the hill of his hip bone with your eyes. He’d brought his guitar out with him again and a very worn copy of Dante’s Inferno. He touched neither, instead he laid there for hours with the sun casting bright warm rays against his pale skin. You tried your best to keep your eyes on the pages of your book but your resolve wasn’t the strongest. You couldn’t stop yourself from peeping at him from behind your paperback. The black widow tattoo next to his collarbone, the demon just underneath it. His chest was a little more defined, his soft tummy a little firmer, the trail of dark hair leading to his thick pretty co-

Snap out of it. 

You weren’t trying to objectify him, but when he looked like *that, you couldn’t help but to stare. To roam your eyes over every expanse of skin you could see. You were looking at him like a whore, clenching your thighs together and growing wet at just the sight of him. He never failed to make you horny. He could simply place one of his big, calloused, ring covered hands on your thigh and you’d be wetter than the amazon.

He caught you at one point with your book held against your chin, teeth biting into the flesh of your lips. Your eyes had been focused on the slight bulge in his pants. He wasn’t hard, just big, and it made your mouth water remembering the way the heavy head of his cock tasted in your mouth. Your eyes snapped to his when he cleared his throat and you hurried to stuff your nose back in your book, absolutely petrified that he caught you.

“I’ll be fine, Steve. The house is right there.” You busied yourself in your task, ignoring the sound of Eddie’s white Reeboks as he walked past with Max. “Look, if I have to sleep next to Robin, the Snore Queen, one more night I might smother her in her sleep.” 

Steve laughed at that, walking over to the lattice walls of the gazebo and turning on the fairy lights. 

“It looks good.” He said, standing next to you to admire your work. “What if it rains?” 

“I tested that theory last night. I’ll stay dry as long as I stick to the middle.” 

“Is the hammock gonna be in your way? I can take it down.” He offered, moving to do just that, but you held his elbow and shook your head. 

“No, I’ll probably end up using it.” 

“Mm, okay. Robin’s gonna have a cow that you’re leaving her, you know.” Steve nudged you with his elbow as the two of you made your way up the cobblestone towards the house. 

“She’ll live. She can always bunk with you.” You smiled at him when he turned to you with a glare. 

“What, so I can deal with Miss Snores a lot, no thanks.” The two of you laughed together. 

“To be honest, I just want to get really fucking stoned and relax in peace.” 

“Well, I’ll try to keep all the children contained so you can get some much needed alone time.” Steve held the door for you, waving his hand for you to enter first. You offered him a curtsy, turning back towards him as you entered. 

“You’re such a good dad.” He rolled his eyes at this, shoving your shoulder lightly. You tossed your head back in a laugh, your favorite pastime was bugging the shit out of Steve. 

Eddie was quiet the rest of the night, seemingly irritated if the drag of his fork against his plate was any indication. You could feel his eyes on you every time you talked to Steve. Catching him in your peripheral with his jaw clenched, his head low but his eyes locked onto you. He was jealous, you could tell. He was always jealous over how close you and Steve were. He told you once he couldn’t understand how Harrington had never made a move with the way you threw yourself at him. But you weren’t doing that, your feelings for Steve had always and would always be platonic. You were just a touchy person when it came to your friends. 

It was wrong the way his jealousy made you dewy between your thighs. Eddie was a protective, maybe a little possessive, person when it came to those he cared about. So it was definitely wrong of you to laugh a little harder at Steve’s jokes. To run your fingers down his arm as you talked about him getting a tattoo. It was just a fun little game, a cruel but fun one. He had no right to be jealous. 

He left you, remember? 

But then his chair scraped across the hardwood floor so loudly it made everyone jump and he stormed out of the dining room leaving his food mostly untouched. You felt it, that disgusting guilt in the pit of your stomach. The kids were confused, watching after him and calling his name, but you all heard the way he stomped up the stairs to his room. It wasn’t until the chatter of the kids resumed that Steve leaned over and whispered into your ear, “Is that what you wanted?” 

“What?” You whispered back, Steve rolled his eyes.

“You were so obviously trying to make him jealous, even I noticed it.” 

“I was not.” It was easier to just deny it. 

“Whatever,” He hissed. “Just go up there and fuck each others brains out already. I’m over this whole will-they-won't-they shit. You two obviously still like each other. You just need to get over yourself.” 

You just need to get over yourself.

His words played on repeat through the rest of dinner. They still echoed through your brain as you helped build a giant blanket fort in the living room for the kids. Eddie never came back down and when you walked by his room on the way to yours you could hear the sound of music blaring through his Walkman. You stopped at his door, hand hovering to knock, but thought better of it. You were wrong for what you did, but that didn’t mean you wanted to apologize.

After grabbing your things and saying goodnight to the group in the living room, you made your way back to the gazebo. It was pretty and you felt a sense of pride at it. The hammock blew softly in the breeze and your makeshift bed was dry and warm, the whole space lit up by the soft orange glow of the lights hung around the space. You should have done this earlier, maybe you would have gotten some decent sleep. As much as you loved Robin, sleeping next to her was next to impossible. But out here it was just you and the crickets. The soft twinkling of windchimes off in the distance. No one could see you nestled under the blankets, your book in your hands. You caught yourself a mild high, just enough to feel the buzz under your skin but not too much that you couldn’t focus on the winding romance you followed from page to page. 

You lose track of time deep in your book, but you hear the sound of shoes against the path, hear the heavy exhale as they stop at the steps in front of you.

“Uh, hey.” It’s Eddie, dressed in his usual black jeans and shirt combo, but he’s wearing a red flannel now. He looks pretty, and tired. 

“Hey?” It’s more of a question as you set your book down next to you. 

“Do you, uh, do you have any more weed?” 

“I do.” 

“Mind sharing? I could really use it right about now.” 

You pass the bowl to him, watch him take a long hit and hold it deep in his lungs. The breeze takes the smoke as it billows out his mouth and in the distance thunder rolls. Just like the other night, you two pass it back and forth in silence until you can’t take watching him shift around uncomfortably. 

“You can sit, if you want.” You said as you scoot over, patting the spot beside you. He lingers for a minute before kicking off his shoes and crawling in next to you. Your heart beats a little faster as he makes himself comfortable, his shoulder grazing yours as he does so. 

“Thanks.” He mumbled, taking the bowl back from you.

“Yeah, of course.” 

He goes to pass the bowl back to you, but you hold up a hand, telling him to finish the bowl pack. You’re watching him, not even being secretive about it. Fuck that. You didn’t care anymore, not when he looked this fucking good doing something as simple as smoking weed. 

“Hey, Eds?” He almost snaps his neck with how fast he turned to look at you. It was the name. Eds. You were the only person that ever called him that. You could see him shiver under your heavy stare. 

“Yeah?” He was unsure, eyes a little wider than usual. 

“I’m sorry I was so clingy, after- well you know- after everything that happened.”

He looked confused, so you went on. 

“But I wish you could have just told me you didn’t want me around anymore. It really hurts that you just dropped me like I meant nothing to you.” You were fiddling with your fingers now and he watched, aware of your nervous ticks. 

“Bunny,” His nickname for you. It used to drive you crazy when he called you Bunny, but you couldn’t help but relish in it at the moment. “It wasn’t you.” 

“Huh?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought I was fucking helping you, Bunny. When we came back to Hawkins, all I wanted was to be with you but I was fucked up and everyone thought I was a fucking serial killer… I thought if you stayed with me you’d end up resenting me.” 

“They cleared your name, Eds.” 

“Yeah, and yet I still get dirty looks and yelled at in town. Not everyone believed I was innocent. Especially not your parents.” 

“My parents?” Of course they had something to do with it. 

“They came into Family Video one day, told me if I didn’t break it off with you that they’d keep your college fund from you. That they would disown their own daughter. I- Bunny all you ever talked about was getting the fuck out of Hawkins, if they did that you’d never be able to leave. I couldn’t let that happen. You were gonna leave me anyways, go off to college and get your dream job. I felt like I was just holding you back.” His eyes were searching your face as he finished, looking for a reaction before you could even process the words he said. 

“Eddie, you should have told me.” 

“You wouldn’t have listened to me. I wasn’t gonna be the one to take that away from you.” 

You laughed darkly, looking out over the pitch black lake. “Eds, they took the fucking money away from me anyways. I crashed my dad's car while driving out to Forest Hills a couple months ago. Completely totaled it. It was never about you, Eddie, my parents are fucking horrible. They were just waiting for a reason to take that money back. I think they’re gonna use it to get divorced.” 

“What? Were you hurt?” His whole body is turned towards you now, searching every inch he could see for any sign of injury, as if it had just happened. 

“I broke my wrist.” You held it up in front of his face and he gingerly took it between his large hands, tracing the small scar with his thumb. “I’m fine now. I’m surprised the peanut gallery didn’t tell you.” 

“I asked them not to tell me about you.” He said softly, gauging your reaction to his words. “It hurt too much to think about you out there without me.” 

 “You can be really dense, you know that?” He gives you a look you can’t help but giggle at. “I’ve missed you, Eddie.” 

“Have you?” He asked, hands still holding your wrist. “Couldn’t tell. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague since we got here.” 

“Can you blame me? You broke my heart.” The words escape you before you can stop them.

“I’m sorry.” He said and you know he meant it just by the sad expression he wore, his frown almost upsetting. He was so pretty when he smiled, it almost killed you to see him frown. 

“S’okay. I’m okay. It was hard but I got over it.” Lies. 

“I heard.” That stops you in your tracks and you squint your eyes up at him, suspiciously. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“What? Nothing. I just heard that you’ve been dating, s’all.” 

He heard you’ve been dating? From who?

“Yeah, thought you didn’t keep tabs on me?” 

He shrugged. “Dustin lets things slip.” 

“Dustin’s a child. He thinks he knows more than he does.” 

He nodded. “So you aren’t going out with Chris Younger?” 

Fucking Dustin. That nosy little punk. 

“I wouldn’t call it going out.” You said, cocking your head to the side. The orange glow made his eyes look lighter, a more honey brown, but the clench of his jaw was unmistakable. 

“What would you call it then?” He asked slowly, each word spoken like he was forcing them out of his mouth. 

“Eddie…” It was a warning. You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. 

“Bunny.” It was a firm order of your nickname; he wanted to know.

“I fucked him senseless and never called him back.” 

There it was, the flare of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw so tight you feared it would lock up, and his eyes so narrowed all you could see in the dim light was his black pupils. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear, Eddie? That I fucked him in the backseat of his car? That I let him call me baby as I rode his cock?” You were getting a rise out of him. He shook his head and looked away from you, his hands balled up in fists in his lap. His anger wasn’t enough to shut you up however. You had him right where you wanted him. So you grabbed his chin with your fingers and pulled him into you, your breath fanning over his face.

“Or maybe you want to hear about how I imagined he was you the whole time. That I called him by your name as I came. Because it doesn’t matter who it is, no one can fuck me as good as you can, Eds.” 

You kissed him before you could think twice about it. Kissed him so hard he gasped, toppling onto his back in surprise, his hands coming up to hold your face to his. You bit his lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth when he moaned. You were never the one to take the lead, that had always been his job, but you weren’t gonna be submissive to him this time. He had to earn that. 

You pushed him until he was propped up against the pillows, looking all pretty with his hair splayed over the pillow and his cheeks all red. Crawling onto his lap, you sat right on his hardening cock, feeling the bulge so clearly through the thin fabric of your shorts. 

“Tell me, Eddie. Use your words. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Bunny.” He only whispered as he gazed up at you. 

“Bunny.” You mocked him, pouting over exaggeratedly down at him, before an evil thought crossed your mind and you ground your hips down onto him. Your clothed pussy dragging up the length of his hard cock. His hands clapped down on your waist, seizing a hold of your hips with bruising force. He moaned. Long and languid, his eyes falling shut and his mouth parting wide. 

“Eddie, focus.” You teased him, grinding against him even harder. Even slower. Circling your hips on top of him at such an agonizing pace it drove even you crazy. 

“I can’t.” He whined, eyes still pinned shut, his heartbeat pounding through his chest underneath the palm of your hand. 

“I want an answer, Eddie. Is that what you wanted to hear?” His hands flew from your hips to pull at his hair. You could tell how hard you were making this for him. He didn’t want to say it. To say that it made him hard thinking about you cumming over some other guys dick while you screamed Eddie’s name. It made him furious, but it also made him throb. “Say it, Eddie.”

“I-I can’t.” He cried out, slamming his fists down onto the blankets underneath you two. 

“Okay.” It was all you said before you removed yourself from him, kneeling between his spread legs instead. His eyes sprung open at the loss of you, propping up on his elbows with a cute little frown.

“Why’d you stop?” He pouted, reaching out for you with his ringed, greedy, fingers. You swatted him away as he pulled at your shirt, giving him your best disapproving look. Inside, though, you were a live wire, crackling with electricity. 

“I’m not gonna give you what you want unless you answer me.” You stated. Eddie groaned. 

“Why does it matter, Bunny?” 

“Because it does. Because for months I waited for you to come back and you never did. Because I had to sit there and listen to Steve talk about Heather Mott coming into the fucking video store every week just to flirt with you. Because I couldn’t *stop thinking about you taking her out to lovers lake and fucking her in the back of your van like you did with me.” 

Your chest heaved with every breath you took, spilling your heart out to him as he sat there and looked at you with those big brown eyes that you loved so much. You needed him to say it, because you couldn’t be the only one suffering through your separation.

“Bunny… Dustin didn’t tell me about you and Chris.” He paused, shook his head, and laid back down. His eyes burned holes into the rafters of the gazebo. “I saw you two, at the movies. He had his hand on your thigh and you were whispering to each other and I stood there and I watched you kiss him. It felt like shit seeing you like that with someone else. So I left, went into the parking lot and punched a dent in the side of my van.”

There it was. You had felt like you were going crazy, knowing he didn’t need you but still beating yourself up with the thought of his hands on someone else's body. It certainly wasn’t healthy. But knowing he felt it too made you feel a little less alone.

Your fingers began unbuckling his belt, pulling the leather through the loops and tossing it to the side. Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stalling your work on his zipper.

“Bunny, w-what are you doing?” Once again you swatted at his hands, grabbing him by his wrists and pinning them to his sides. 

“I’m gonna suck your cock and you’re not gonna touch me until I say so, understood?” 

Eddie was visibly shocked by your words, but he still nodded his head and laid as still as he could as you pulled his jeans down his legs. His cock sprang free, laying against his stomach, precum dripping down the sides of its head. You wanted to lick it all up, savor every drop. But then something else caught your attention.

“What, no boxers?” It was only a tease as you worked his jeans off his strong legs. Eddie shook his head, cheeks heating in a blush of embarrassment. 

“Ran out.” He grunted, watching your fingers dance up his shaft. 

“Of course you did. Let me guess, you didn’t pack enough?” You wrapped your hand around him fully as you spoke, following the shaky inhale he took at the feeling with lustful eyes. You bit your lip as he arched into your stroke, pressing his head back into the pillows with a groan. 

“No,” He said after wetting his lips, his mouth dry. “No, I… I just went through them fast.” 

You narrowed your eyes at this, stroking your thumb over his wet tip. “How’d you do that, Eds?”

“Ah shit, that feels- fuck, I-I’ve been jerking it like crazy since I ran out of weed.” A funny feeling grows in your chest at his words, a wide smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You continued the slow caress of your thumb to his most sensitive part as you leaned back on your heels a little, offering him a naïve look. 

“Whatchu been thinking about, hmm?” He met your look with one of his own. It was an attempt to look irritated at what he thought was such an obvious question. He knew you knew. But that look wouldn’t hold, not with you swiping the precum from his slit before smoothing the salty taste down your tongue. Because you already knew the answer. You fucking knew. 

“Y-you, Bunny. I was thinking about you. I always think about you.” His voice falls off at the end, if you weren’t paying such close attention to him you probably wouldn’t have heard it. But you did, and it sends heat right to your core. His hands shake at his sides.

“What am I doing, in these thoughts of yours?” You flatten your tongue against his tip, keening at the way his brows knit together and the way the head of his cock is warm against your tongue. 

“Can’t tell ya. S’too dirty for me to say.”

“I already know you’re a dirty boy, Eddie.” You wrapped your lips around his head, hollowing your cheeks as you coaxed him into your mouth. You took him as far into your throat as you could, gagging on his thickness. You weren’t sure if it was the sound you made or the feeling that got him, but as you pulled up his length his hands sprung to your head. He didn’t force you back down, no, he grabbed your head and stroked your cheeks gently. Peering up at him you found he was gazing down at you so intently, so much affection radiating off him. He broke your rule, but only to silently thank you. 

“That feels incredible, Bunny.” Another gentle stroke of your cheek before he lays his hands back down at his sides, allowing you to continue your trail up his shaft. 

You go back to the task at hand; slowly unraveling his wits with your hot wet mouth and tongue. Eddie was getting more talkative, a sure sign he was close, and you didn’t want that yet. He wasn’t allowed to cum yet. One last swirl around his tip, his hands found your elbow and you pulled away from him fast. His hands blindly followed after you, reaching out into the orange glow around you. You were already on your feet when he sat up, his hard cock bobbing as he shuffled forward. 

“Wh-where are you going?” His voice was strained, his face pinched together. 

You pulled your shirt over your head, looped your thumbs in the waistband of your shorts as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs. 

“Skinny dipping. You coming?” 

“What? Bunny, I was so close.” 

“I know. You can wait though.” You tried to hide your smile while taking off your bra and throwing it into his face. “Now, are you coming?” 

“I’m trying to.” He was starting to whine and you felt so powerful. Loved the way he looked ready to get on his knees and grovel for you. “What if someone sees?” He asked, eyes taking in your bare body, his own hand now wrapped around his cock. You push his hand away with your foot, tsking at him. 

“Stop that.” You chastised. “And no one will see, with the day they had they’re probably all asleep. Come on Eddie, don’t you want to see me all naked and wet?” 

“You’re already dripping wet.” So he noticed. The slick between your legs was starting to trail down your thigh, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable. 

“Come. Don’t come. It’s your choice.” With that you sprinted to the dock, ignoring him calling after you as you jumped. The warm water swallowed your whole, caressing your heated skin, relaxing your muscles. The water was too dark to see but you felt the rumble of water as Eddie jumped in behind you. 

You broke through the surface with a laugh, smoothing your hair out of your face and searched the dark expanse of the lake for him. He popped out beside you, grabbing you by the waist and anchoring you to his chest. He kissed you sweetly, letting his tongue trace the shape of your lips. You didn’t push him away, chose to let him kiss you as passionately as he wanted, because this was all *you wanted. To be with him like this again felt too good to be true. But Eddie was sturdy under your touch, there was no doubt that this was really happening.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help the giggle that flew out your mouth. His hair was wild, soaking wet, little curls glued to his face. 

“Hi. You came.” You said as you pushed the hair from his eyes. 

“Yeah, how could I not?” He let you finish fixing his hair before he laid your head against his shoulder, a firm hand holding your body to his. His cock was still hard, pressed against your hip, and as much as you wanted to reach your hand between the two of you, you felt content just letting him hold you like this. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He cooed into your ear, kissing the wet hair at your temple. 

“Next time, just tell me, Eds. All this angsty teenage bullshit was for nothing.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing, Bunny.” 

“I know. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you so fucking much.” 

“Me too, Eds. So lonely without you.” 

He squeezed you tighter, holding in his warm embrace until the sky opened up and rain poured from the dark clouds in rivets. You shrieked as a pierce of lightning hit the sky, thunder bursting around you making the water shake with the vibration. The two of you raced back to the shore, running through the cold rain toward the gazebo in a fit of laughter. 

When you finally reached shelter, you snatched up his red flannel, pushing your arms through the sleeves with chattering teeth. Eddie grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders like a giant cape, pulling you into his warmth. You wrapped your arms around him, nosing the slight patch of hair between his pecs as he held you close, eyes watching the rain pound the water. 

“What the fuck just happened.” He chuckled, rocking his body back and forth. You jerked side to side with him, poking him in the ribs when he took you off balance. 

“I guess it was time to get out.” You mused kissing his sternum, taking advantage of the blanket you were both wrapped up in, to slip your hand between your bodies and stroke his softening cock.

His head fell into yours, humming at the feeling of your cold hand slowly jerking him off. 

“Eddie, lay back down.” 

“I’m all wet, Bunny.” 

“Don’t care, want you inside me. Now.” 

You figured you wouldn’t have to beg and you were right. Eddie dropped the blanket and settled down into the pillows. You crawled into his lap, placing your pussy right down against him. He was already hard, hips rutting up into your slick folds as you teased his length. It didn’t take long for him to get needy, impatient. Whining to himself and digging his nails into your thighs. How could you have missed out on this. On teasing him until he couldn’t form a single rational thought other than “fuck me”. 

His hands went to your tits as you sank down on him, keening and groaning as you took him to the hilt. It was a little too much, he hadn’t been inside you for so long it felt like the first time all over again. Eddie must have thought so too as one of his ringed hands left your breast to grip your hip, holding you down on top of him. This was always his favorite part, the stillness before he fucked you senseless. Except he wasn’t in control this time, and despite the need you felt to ride him until the sun came up, you wanted to savor this.

So you sat on his cock, pulsing deep inside you with every clench of your walls, and slowly starting to roll your hips. You used the already quivering muscles of your thighs to guide yourself up and down. Slow at first, making sure you were ready, and then faster until your tits were bouncing in his face. He sat up, meeting you halfway, his mouth closing around your pebbled nipple. He flicked his tongue against the bud and your head lolled back, his flannel slipping from your shoulder. 

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful. So fucking pretty like this, bouncing on my cock. Feels just like our first time, can’t believe how fucking tight you are.” He’s breathless as he rambled, palms splayed against your back, helping you fuck his cock at a steady, brain rotting, pace. 

“So good, Eds. So good.” You cried out when his hips snapped up into you causing you to fall into his sweaty chest. Your thighs were shaking and your knees ached, but you wanted to be on top. Wanted to be in control, but his cock was hitting you in all the right places and he was looking you dead in the eye. Eye contact was a favorite of his. Loved being able to see the moment you came, the way your eyes squeezed shut.

“Let me take over, Bunny.” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “Let me take care of you, show you how much I missed you.” 

“No.” You growled, shoving him back against the makeshift bed. You paused your hips to lean over top of him, getting comfortable in this new position with your hands next to his head. You sank down fast and hard once you were ready and Eddie choked on whatever words he was about to say. 

“I’m in charge, this time.” You punctuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, sighing as you hung your head forward, unable to tear your eyes away from your pussy greedily swallowing his cock. 

Eddie was the one to pull you back to him, kissing you deeply, your tongues swirling together in your mouth. You whined when his thumb started making small tight circles around your swollen clit, snapping your hips down on him at the same pace. The fire in your belly felt like it was gonna burst, your thighs shaking as they desperately tried to carry on. But the approaching wave of your orgasm had you losing rhythm, stalling your hips at their own accord. Eddie saw but didn’t say a thing, only rolled you onto your back and hitched your legs over his hips.

You went to complain, but Eddie shushed you, covering you with his body and cradling your face. 

“You’re still in charge, Bunny, M’just helping you.” His hand dipped between your bodies, fingers resuming their tight circles. “You’re such a good boss.” 

“Don’t-” You whimpered as his thrusts made your back arch and your toes curl. “Don’t patronize me.” 

Eddie chuckled, sucking a hickey to your chest. “I’m not, Bunny, I promise. You did such a good job being on top. My good girl.” 

His good girl. Fuck you missed that. Forgotten how good it felt to be called his. You clenched around him causing his thrusts to falter. You were so close, you could feel it burning just under the surface. You wanted to tell him, let him know how good he felt inside you, but there was no reason to. You took one look at him and knew he knew. He could feel it in how wet you were getting, as if it was humanly possible for you to be even more wet, could see it in the pout of your lips and the pinch in your brow. 

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cum all fucking over my cock. I know you want to, baby. Just let go.” 

Your nails dug into his hips as you came, hard. You didn’t make a peep, the air trapped in your throat prevented any sound that tried to escape your open mouth. Eddie fucked you through it wildly, his fast thrusts and your wet core making a sloppy sound when he buried himself to the hilt and pulled back out. 

“I’m so close, Bunny. W-where do you want me to cum?” Eddie’s voice was ragged, sweat beading down his chest as he fucked into you. 

“Inside, Eds.” You were still out of breath, but you had regained at least a small part of your senses back. “Cum inside me.” 

Eddie was dumbstruck, groaning at your words, but that rational side of him made him say, “But, I’m not wearing a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill, Eds. Been on the pill since you took my virginity.” And since you took his. “I wanna feel it inside me, Eds.” 

“Ah, shit. You- You can’t just say shit like that, Bunny. So dirty. My little freak. Gonna make me come too fast.” 

“I thought you were close?” You hiccupped, holding onto him like your life depended on it.

“I am. Just wanna h-hold off a little longer.” He was so focused, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he watched the way your soaked pussy continued to take him. “M’not ready to cum yet. Keep thinking about what you said, h-how you thought of me while you fucked that punk Younger.” 

You caressed his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “Stop thinking so much, Eddie.” 

“Can’t, shoulda been me. Can’t believe you fucked someone else. Hate the thought of it. Hate that it makes my cock twitch.” His pace was brutal now, his hips slapping against yours so roughly the sound echoed through the trees. 

“I wanted it to be you, Eddie.” You spoke softly against his ear, carding your fingers through his tangled curls. 

“F-fuck, say my name again. Please, Bunny.” 

“Cum inside me, Eddie. Fill me up. Make me yours, Eddie. I wanna be yours.” You chanted in his ear all the praise he’d been desperately missing for months now, clenching down around him when his hips stuttered and his breath caught in his throat. 

He came with a shaky grunt, his arm wrapping behind your waist to hold you in place as he fucked himself through it in a few hard, sloppy, jerks of his hips. His cum painted your insides, leaking out around his base as he collapsed on top of you. 

“Jesus Christ, that was fucking amazing, so much better than my hand.” Eddie joked as he kissed up the column of your neck, licking at your pulse point and chuckling when it made you shiver under him. 

“You really didn’t fuck anyone else after you left?” You asked because you wanted to know, because if he hadn’t you’d feel like shit about the fact that you *had. 

“No,” Eddie said, raising to his elbows to look down at you. “I didn’t want to. Felt wrong even thinking about someone else.” 

Well, that made you feel like shit. Because you did fuck someone else, and it didn’t matter that it was horrible and your regretted it immediately, because you knew it felt wrong and you still did it. 

“Hey, Bunny, don’t cry. Why are you crying?” Eddie rolled off you and pulled your head against his chest, cradling you in his arms while he stroked your hair. 

“I was so lonely, I fucked him because I was so lonely and just wanted to be touched and y-you didn’t and I’m such a shitty person.” You were blubbering into his skin, hot tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t do that. We weren’t together, you’re allowed to sleep with other people.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t. You could have and you still didn’t.” 

He said your name, your real name, so softly and so lovingly that you nuzzled closer to him, too scared to look him in the eye. The moment reminded you of the night you took each other's virginities. How he held you so close afterwards, stroking your hair, and he hummed your name. Said it in a way you’d never heard before. That night, the sex had been okay, you were both new to it all working together to figure out what felt good and what made your eyes roll back into your heads. Every time after had been better than the last as you learned together what sex could be. But it didn’t matter how high he was, how wrecked and worn out he was, he always held you after. Said your name like it was the only thing that mattered. It was his thing, a thing you never even asked for but it made you feel whole inside.

Eddie was always just doing these things for you without you even asking because he wanted to do them. 

“Hey, look at me.” He lifted your chin until he could see your sad face. “I don’t care that you fucked someone else.” 

“But-” You tried to interrupt but he put his hand over your mouth, efficiently shutting you up. 

“I don’t care about that, at least I’m trying not to. I’ll work on it but you need to stop this ridiculous hate fest going on in that pretty little head of yours. It only took you fucking one person to realize the truth.” 

“What truth is that?” You asked with a weak voice, muffled by his hand over your mouth. 

“That I’m the fucking god of sex.” 

He says it with such a straight face you can’t help but laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, shoving at his chest so you could roll onto your back. You were still giggling as you wiped the tears from your eyes, that ball of guilt in your chest a little lighter. 

“Am I wrong? Seriously, Bunny. You can’t say I’m wrong.” He’s trying to be serious but he can’t stop the toothy smile that spreads across his face when he hears you snort again. 

“I taught you everything you know, Eds. Shouldn’t that make me the sex god.” 

“You know what, you just have to steal my moment, huh?” You coo at him when he says this, patting his cheek with so much condescension he bats your hands away and grabs you by your cheeks with his fingers. “Don’t be a brat, Bunny.” 

You smooch at him and he rolls his eyes, drawing you up to his lips. He dropped his hand to your jaw, kissing you so tenderly it made your already wobbly knees weaker. 

“Eddie?” You asked as he brushed his nose against yours. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please don’t leave me like that again, I don’t think I could take it.” 

He turned serious as he said, “I promise, Bunny. I’ll try to use my brain a little harder next time.” 

“Good.” You ran your thumb over the sharp edge of his jaw. “Good, your brain needs the exercise.”

Eddie tossed his head back against the pillow, dark curls flying into his face and you giggled even harder, loved how dramatic he just couldn’t help being. 

“God, you’re such a brat!” He laughed along with you, pulling you tight against his side, and you knew right then that you didn’t have to worry about missing him so deeply it tore you apart ever again. 

He wasn’t gonna run away this time. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff

[measuredingold]

fallingforyou

authors note: finally finished this folio piece i've been working on for about two weeks!!! i enjoyed writing this a lot and wish i had wrote it a bit longer, but i'm trying to work on not writing as much for short one-shots (unless you guys like longer writing!) as always enjoy and feedback is appreciated :)

pairing: nick folio x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 4.8k

cw/tags: friends to lovers, p in v, unprotected sex (be safe!!!!! wrap it up folks!!!), fluff, nick being a sweetie, drinking/alcohol consumption, 18+ minors do not interact

The whiskey hit the back of his throat with a burn. Nick's face scrunches up in displeasure as he swallows it down, body tingling from the alcohol. He didn't expect himself to end up here, but his friends wanted his first few nights at home to be exciting. His friends told him he’d have enough time to sleep later. He had been touring almost for five months straight, and the thought of getting the next almost three months off was pure heaven to him. 

Someone next to him called for another round of shots, probably whiskey again, and Nick had to say a prayer to himself before bringing his beer bottle up to his lips. He cleansed his palette, which is hilarious when he realizes he's doing it with more alcohol, but it tastes better than the whiskey his buddies have been pounding down for the last hour. 

"So, Folio," One of them said, leaning towards him across the table. "Meet anyone special out on the road?"

He snorts, head shaking. "Nah, man. Barely had any time." 

"Seriously?" Another one says. "Thought you'd have hundreds of people throwing themselves at your feet."

"We're not like that, dude." Nick responds, a tipsy laugh tumbling from his lips. "I mean, don't get me wrong - we've hooked up with people before but," He shrugs. "We're kind of really boring."

"You? Boring?" His friend across from him snorted, throwing his head back in laughter. "Dude, you were fucking crazy in high school."

"Yeah. High school." Nick rolls his eyes. "I'm 26. I'm old, man, I can't keep up anymore."

The table breaks out in mumbled agreement. It's clear that they're all getting older, and things aren't how they used to be, and Nick kind of likes it that way. Yeah, he likes to party, he fucking loves to drink, and a hook-up here and there is nice every once in a while. It just doesn’t do much for him anymore.

He likes to take it slow; he likes exploring with his friends when they’re in a city they’ve never been to before, and he really likes to sleep. A lot. Jetlag is a bitch and the more you fight it, the more screwed you’re going to be. Trust him, he knows.

The conversation switches and Nick’s only half listening, eyes scanning the bar to see if there’s anyone he may know here. It’s a long shot, because most of the people he knows is already here with him, but he looks anyways.

His eyes find you before you ever find him. 

You look as beautiful as ever and the smile adorn on your lips has Nick's stomach turning in a way he hasn't felt in ages. Probably since the last time he saw you. You met in high school and became somewhat friends, you had been dating a buddy of his, he eventually dated a friend of yours at one point, and so on and so forth. You were always around, and he liked it.

He had seen you at a wedding last summer, no date just like him, and the two of you had spoken for hours that night as if no time had passed. It was nice, but he won't forget the ache in his heart when you called it a night. He walked you out to your car and you had left him with a kiss on his cheek and a playful threat of fighting him if he doesn't text you the next time he's in town.

He never did.

Your eyes finally catch his and something crosses your face, but he can't quite put his finger on what it is exactly. He's nervous, scared you'll be upset with him for not letting you know he's home - and for a while at that - but your lips are stretching into an even wider smile and his shoulders relax. 

"Look what the cat dragged in." You say, a teasing grin settling on your lips as you walk up to his table. He smiles up at you.

"Long time no see, stranger." 

"And who's fault is that?" You tease before sliding in the empty chair beside him. He's sure his buddy can find another place to sit.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that."

"Be like what?" Your head tilts, feigning innocence. "I'm not the one who promised to tell me the next time they'll be in town."

He gives you a sheepish look, leaning away from you as he slumped back into his seat. "You got me there."

You smile at him now, a real one, and place a hand on his arm.

"Hey," You say softly, "I was just joking. I know you're busy flying around the world being a fucking badass. I'd probably forget, too."

"I won't forget next time. Swear." Nick holds his pinky up for emphasis and you immediately wrap your own around his. He smiles. "Plus, I'm home even longer now."

Your brows quirk up in interest. "Oh?"

"Mhm." Your pinkies are still wrapped around each other's, and his gaze drops down to them before looking back up. "Almost three months. You're gonna be sick of me."

"Holy shit." Your eyes widen. "Finally gonna take me out to lunch then, huh?"

His brows scrunch together in confusion before realization dawns on him. He laughs, unwrapping his pinky from around yours to bring his hand up to run through his hair.

"How the hell do you remember that?"

It was yet another promise he made at that wedding last summer, when the two of you had sat by each other at the reception. A few beers in, feeling a bit tipsy and a lot brave, Nick had brought up one of his favorite lunch spots at home. You'd never been there before, only heard of it in passing, and he had told you he'd take you there the next time he was in town. His treat, he had said.

"You promised!"

His pauses for a moment, eyes locked on yours and he can't help but smile to himself. You're seriously the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes on, he decides right then and there. 

"Looks like I'll be taking you out then."

Before you could reply, Nick’s buddy is back with shots and handing them out to everyone at the table. He groans to himself when one finds its way into his hand, and he gives you a look. You’re already laughing.

“What? Can’t do shots anymore?”

“Dude, this is like my 4th one. I’m not sure how many more I can take.”

His friends held one out to you, brow raised as an offering. You take it.

“Here,” You turn your body towards Nick, holding the shot glass out. ”I’ll take one with you. Only one,” With your free hand you hold one finger up, lips curling into a smile. “Still gotta get my ass home.”

Nick groans again. “I wish I had that excuse. My buddy drove me here, so now I’m literally forced to drink.”

“Oh, you poor baby. Whatever shall you do?”

He rolls his eyes but knows his cheeks are heating up, the term of endearment getting to him. The table cheers in unison and he clinks his glass against yours before bringing it to his lips. You keep eye contact as you do the same, and the both of you swallow down the shot. You make a face first, visibly shaking, and then Nick follows, laughter soon escaping him.

“Holy shit, that was terrible.” You cough and Nick only laughs harder.

“Who can’t take shots now?”

You glare at him, though he knows there’s no malice behind it. “Watch it, Folio.”

He’s already feeling good, the alcohol slowly getting to him, and he leans into your space.

“Or what?”

You pause, gazing into his eyes. His heart thuds against his chest when he watched your eyes drop to his lips but in a split second they’re back on his, and you lean forward.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This cat and mouse game between the two of you has been going on for years now, but Nick was too scared to make the first move. You were friends, who’ve been kind of flirting for years, and he’s seriously thought about kissing you ever since junior year. It’s crazy how he hasn’t… yet.  

“Actually, I think I would.” His arm settles around the back of your chair, but he doesn’t touch you.

You don’t budge, holding his steady gaze, but Nick can see the flush beginning to form on your cheeks. You don’t respond and he tilts his head, giving you a pointed look, and before he could say anything that could get him in trouble his friend is shouting across the table.

"Folio!" The both of you turn your focus to his friend, and Nick's brows furrow together. "You guys wanna play?"

He holds up a pool stick and Nick grins before looking back at you, raising a brow in question. 

"You wanna?"

"I don't know," You say with a shrug, your lips already curling at the end. "You any good?"

"Oh, sweetheart." He coos softly. "I'm the best damn pool player in Maryland."

"Is that so?" Nick nods proudly and your lips stretch into a grin in which he returns, and you push your chair back. "Well, isn't it my lucky day?”

"It sure is." He pushes his own chair back and stands up. "I hope you're ready to kick some ass."

It wasn't too hard to beat Nick's friends, them being a bit too intoxicated to really take the game seriously. It also helped that he was actually good at pool, not fibbing to make himself seem cooler in front of you. You were a pretty decent partner too, getting a few balls down yourself, and when the two of you came out triumphant for the third time in a row, Nick didn't stop himself from wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side.

"We make a pretty good team, huh?" 

You look up at him and smile prettily, and it has Nick's stomach turning, and lean into his touch. "I say we do, Folio."

A few more rounds, all won by your team, the group finally decided to call it a night. Nick walks you out to your car, telling his friend who drove him here that he'll be back in a second. He was a gentleman, so of course he'd make sure you made it back to your car safe. He also wasn't ready to say goodbye yet, chest already heavy at the thought.

"You free Friday?" Nick shoves his hands in his pocket, tongue darting out to swipe over his bottom lip. "We could get lunch then. If you'd like."

You look up at him through your lashes and he feels his heart thud sporadically against his chest, but he tries to play it cool. 

"I'd like that a lot." You say softly.

"Cool. I'll actually text you this time." He teases and you laugh, and it sounds like music to his ears. 

Nick watches as you pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, trying to keep your smile from spreading. His body warms at that, and he finds it becoming hard to look away from your mouth and the curve of your lips, wondering what they would feel like pressed against his own. He finally gazes back up to find you staring at him intently, brows furrowed as if you're in deep thought.

"What's going on up in that head of yours?"

"Tell me if I'm crossing any lines here." You rub your hands nervously together, “I kind of don’t want tonight to end just yet… I really like talking to you.”

His cheeks flush. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smile, all shy and cute and it has Nick wanting to reach out and kiss you right then and there. “Do you… want to come back to my place? To hang out. Me and you.”

His eyes widen. Oh. You’re asking him to go back to your place, alone, and even though you could very well just want to talk, it still has his body heating up.

“Oh.” He says dumbly, still in shock.

"Fuck. Did I read this wrong?" You begin to panic, your cheeks heating up with color. Nick notices immediately and is quick to shake his head, eyes widening.

"No! I mean," He clears his throat, giving you a bashful smile. "Um. No. I don't think you read this wrong at all."

He catches your eyes and sees you visibly relax, but the flush to your cheeks deepens. 

"Oh." You drop your head, hair falling in your face to hide your burning cheeks. Nick can't stop himself from smiling. "Really?"

"Yes, really." He laughs. "I like hanging out with you. I always have."

He hasn't had a sip of alcohol since the shot the two of you took together hours ago and he knows he can't blame this bravery on that, but he likes to think that maybe there's still some liquid courage coursing through his veins. You look up again, a shy smile on your lips.

"So, you’re saying it wouldn't be too crazy to ask you to come home with me?" You ask softly. 

Your words have Nick's body tingling, excitement running through him. He's not sure what you mean exactly, and maybe you seriously just want to hang out more and talk - in which he's completely okay with - but there was a look in your eyes, something he caught the last time he was with you, and his stomach turned again.

"Not crazy at all." His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip one more time before looking off to the side to hide the growing smile on his lips. "Let me just... Let me go tell him you'll be taking me home, okay? I'll be right back."

You nod, still smiling prettily, and he watches you get into your car. He turns to find his friend leaned up against his car a few spots down already staring at him, brows raised in question.

"Uh, I think she's taking me home tonight."

It takes a moment for the words to settle, his friend’s eyes widening. "No fucking way."

"Not like that!" Nick's quick to get out, but he knows he's lying. It's definitely like that. "We're just catching up."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be catching up alright." His friend teases and Nick rolls his eyes.

"Dude. Shut up."

Nick waves him off as they both say their goodbyes and he made his way back to your car. He takes a deep breath before getting in, giving you a smile while he buckled himself in.

“Ready?” You question, already putting your car in reverse.

Nick settles back against the seat, getting himself comfortable, and nods.

...

The two of you sit across from each other on your couch, beers in hand as Nick goes on another story about his recent travels. You had been the one to ask him, curious about what life is like on the road, and with the alcohol still coursing through his veins it was pretty hard for Nick to stop talking.

"...Sorry," He lets out sheepishly, head dipping down to hide his blush. "I'm probably boring you."

"No!" You quickly get out; your cheeks now flushed a light crimson shade. "No, it's fine. I like hearing your stories."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up and gives you a smile, which you return easily.

"Of course. It's so exciting to hear about all the places you've been," You pull your legs up onto the couch and rest them underneath you. "I also just like hearing you talk."

"So, what you’re telling me is that you like my voice?”

"Mhm." You nod. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” 

Nick looks at you, and your eyes meet, and he feels the world kind of... stop. He can't even blame this on the beer, because even with the alcohol flowing through him, he's always thought you were beautiful. Especially your eyes, a shade of green he wasn't familiar with, all round and pretty and welcoming. 

"I don't think I've ever told you this," His fingers grip around the glass bottle in his hands and he shifts on the couch, subsequently moving closer to you, "but I think you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen."

This catches you off guard and you laugh, light and airy, and Nick loved the way your eyes crinkled. Your face flushes a deeper shade of pink, probably from the alcohol mixed with the unusual compliment, and he smiles. 

"No, you've never told me that." You say once your laughter has died down, eyes landing back on him. "Thank you, Nick."

"Of course."

A pleasant silence falls between the two of you and he's just noticed how close you were, your legs pressing against each other. He tries to ignore the way his heart hammers against his chest, and he sucks in a breath when your hand comes down to rest against his thigh. He drops his gaze to your fingers before flicking them back up to yours, and you’re already staring, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

Nobody moves for a solid minute, just the two of you staring at each other to see who makes the first move. Nick doesn’t miss the way your eyes dropped to his lips like they had in the parking lot, the way your chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and he leans over to grab the beer bottle still secure in your free hand but surely forgotten. You don’t say anything when he places both your forgotten bottles on the coffee table beside the couch before turning back to face you, shifting his body closer to yours.

He places a hand against yours that still rests against his thigh, and your fingers easily slide in between his own. He looks down at them, smiling softly at the way your hands fit together almost perfectly before he feels your hand underneath his chin, tilting his head up.

“Wait.” He says suddenly when he feels the two of you start to lean in, lips barely inches apart. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Nick,” You huff out, your hand now moving to cup the side of his face. He leans into the touch immediately. “I don’t think you understand how badly I want this.”

He laughs. “Oh, babe. I think I do.”

You lean in closer now, nose brushing against his and if he just tilted his head down just right your lips would be touching. His stomach swirls with butterflies and squeezes your hand that’s still in his.

“Then kiss me.”

Fuck it.

He tilts his head down, capturing your lips against his own. You let out a noise, something mixed of a sigh and a whine, and your hand squeezes his. Your lips moved together slowly, unsure, before Nick released his grip on your hand to reach up and cup your face. He was determined now, tongue darting out to swipe at your bottom lip, and you made another noise. It went straight through him, body buzzing in excitement at this newfound territory that he didn’t want to lose just yet.

You pull away, only to your shirt off of your body, and then you’re leaning back against the couch, pulling Nick with you. He follows, the two of your shifting around for him to easily slide in between your legs before his lips are back against yours and with a purpose.

You feel soft in his hold, and the way your body pressed against his was something he’s never experienced before. His hands shook as they gripped your hips, rolling his flush against yours, and the sound you let escape was heavenly. He groans, his cock hardening with each roll of your hips and he has to pull away to catch his breath.

He looks down at you, your eyes hooded, and lips parted, and he has to bite down on his lip to hold in the groan that’s threatening to escape. You look so fucking beautiful underneath him, the fucked-out expression you wore on your face is something he’s never going to forget, tucking it into the back of his mind for another time. He sits up to remove his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room and you’re already shimmying out of your jeans, kicking them off.

“Eager much?” He teases, though he’s a little breathless at the sight of you only in your underwear. He’s already messing with the zipper of his jeans before you even respond.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s why I’m trying to do here, darlin’.”

A whine pulls out from deep in your chest and it goes straight to Nick’s already achingly hard cock, and he’s quick to rid himself of his jeans. He’s on you again in seconds, lips finding yours again as he finds solitude in between your thighs. He rolls his hips down and moans against yours lips, the feeling of your clothed and already damp core against his cock has his mind going hazy for a second or two.

“Fuck,” He grunts out, pulling away again briefly. “Do you have a condom? I wasn’t exactly prepared for this.”

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, pulling him back down to you. “I’m on the pill, and I don’t think I’m patient enough to dig around for one. I need you now.”

His cock twitches at your words.

“Are you sure?”

“Nick.” You groan this time, annoyed, and you nip at his bottom lip before pulling back, head pressing back against the arm of the couch. He sucks in a breath when your eyes meet. “I trust you. And if I’m being honest, if you’re not inside me in the next ten fucking seconds I will lose my goddamn mind.”

Nick lets out a surprised laugh and your cheeks flush. He sits up to pull his boxers down and watches you shimmy your underwear down, sitting up briefly to remove your bra before falling back on the couch. He settles back in between your legs, lifting them up to wrap around his waist.

“Demanding little thing, huh?” His voice is low as he wraps a hand around his aching cock, the tip glaringly red as he gives himself a few strokes. “I like it.”

You keen at his words, eyes fluttering shut and he has to collect himself and not pound into you immediately. He takes his time, though, slowly sliding the tip up and down your already soaked folds. The moan that rips from you the second he pushes in has something beneath his chest twisting, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering around wildly.

He’s not even all the way in but you already feel incredible, your cunt clenching around him as you take him inch by inch. He’s sure by the scrunch of your face and the way your nails dig into his forearms that the stretch isn’t the most pleasant, and he leans over, fluttering kisses around your face.

“Okay?” He questions, voice already strained. You give a little nod but don’t bother opening your eyes. “Taking me so well already, baby. So fucking good.”

Your whole body flushes at his words and you clench around his length again, and Nick’s vision blurs briefly. He’s not sure how he’s going to last longer than thirty seconds at this point. He sucks in a deep breath when he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flushed against yours, and you whine.

He stills, worry rushing through him. “Feel alright?”

You finally open your eyes, lids heavy and gaze hazy, and give another nod of your head.

“Mhm. Just feel…” You whimper out, hips wiggling down before you gasp. “So full.”

“You feel fucking incredible.” He groans out, forehead pressing against yours. Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck and he kisses you, soft and gentle. “Tell me when I can move.”

“Move.” You whine, hips wiggling again. “Please move, baby.”

The first roll of his hips has you moaning out, but Nick swallows it with another kiss. His hands roam over your body as you move together and he feels you shudder in his hold as he gives a rather deep roll of his hips, gasping out his name softly. He can’t help but whine into your mouth, wanting to make you say his name over and over and over again. It sounded like you were meant to say it, all pretty and fucked out, nails now digging into his shoulders as he picks up speed.

He reaches down between the two of you, pressing calloused fingers against your throbbing clit and rubs circles in time with his thrusts. You throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as a low, deep moan falls from your now swollen lips, and Nick leans forward and presses open mouthed kisses along your exposed neck, his thrusts or fingers not letting up.

“Nick…” You whimper out, nails digging even further into his shoulders that he’s sure there will be a mark tomorrow. He’ll be surprised if you don’t break. “Fuck.”

“I love when you say my name.” He groans against your neck and gives another deep roll of his hips, causing your back to arch off the couch. “You close, baby? Tell me what to do, wanna make you feel good.”

You moan. “Keep doing what you’re doing, please. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t, continuing to rub your swollen clit in time with his thrusts, your cunt clenching around him so tightly he almost forgets how to fucking breathe. You feel other worldly, like something he’s never experienced before, and he swears he sees fucking stars the second he feels your cunt clench around him one last time. You come with a shout of his name, body shaking under him as your orgasm spread throughout your body.

He moans, pressing his face against your neck as he chases his own high, and he somehow remembers to pull out, fisting his cock and giving it a few sharp tugs before he spills all over your stomach. His chest rises and falls heavy with each breath he took, hair falling in his face as he tries to come back to earth. He looks down at you and his heart skips a beat, as cliché as it sounds, at the fucked out grin on your lips.

Nick can’t help himself and he leans down, lips catching your own in the most tender kiss he can muster up at the moment.

“Where’s your bathroom?” He questions once he pulls away, moving some hair out of your, and tsks softly when you try to push him back and sit up. “No, no, no. Stay here. I got it.”

You pause, peering up at him before you slowly lay back down. “Down the hall, first door to the left.”

Nick pulls himself up from the couch with a groan, eyes scanning the room to find his boxers before he reaches down for them and puts them on. It doesn’t take him more than a minute to get to the bathroom and find something to wipe you off with, and he comes back into the living room to find you right where he left you. He wipes up the mess he made on your stomach and is gentle in between your legs, lips curling in a slight smirk at the way you squirmed when he did so.

You’re quiet when you finally stand from the couch, searching for you shirt. He can’t help but watch, the curves of your body forever embedded in his mind, and his eyes linger when he notices the bottom of your shirt barely covers your ass. You turn to look at him, cheeks still flushed, but you wore an expression as if you were in deep thought. He thought it was the cutest thing ever, his lips tugging into a smile.

“What?” He questions, leaning back against the couch. You shrug, a smile slowly creeping onto your own lips.

“…Would it be crazy to ask you to stay the night?”

His smile only widens at your words, heart thudding against his chest.

“As long as you let me buy you breakfast in the morning.”

“Breakfast and lunch?” You reach out for him, and he lets you tug him up from the couch, lacing your fingers together as you drag him towards your bedroom. “Sounds almost as if you like me or something, Folio.”

“Maybe I do.”

You pause in the doorway, looking up at him with wide, pretty eyes and he doesn’t stop himself from leaning down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. You giggle when he pulls away and tug him into your room.

“It’s a date.”

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio fic #mine

[earth2rin]

puppy love pt. 1

atsumu miya x reader

you can tell where i started to get tired of writing this LOL

tags: childhood friends to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, atsumu really is a sweetheart, osamu is a little shit, slow burn, happy ending

wc: 7.9k

~

growing up with all boys in your family has really helped you understand the chemistry in boys' heads that cause them to act out on their inner thoughts. it did not, however, help you get used to the icky things they did. while rolling around in mud and squishing bugs with bare hands was not your forte, you could definitely see the satisfaction to gain from it. well not really, but you always tried to see from others perspectives, especially when atsumu had told you that it was fun to step on frogs. you had asked what was so fun about it, which he replied with “it’s like whenever you put on makeup or whatever, it’s just fun!” all while showing you a toothy grin. you couldn’t really wrap your head around it and opted in shooting him a confused look with eyebrows raised and a curled upper lip. to which he just continued to smile and shoot you a thumbs up.

since you were young, atsumu has always been by your side. your first ever encounter with the boy was in the first grade when you fell at recess and got your pretty purple dress dirty. you cried and cried until you felt a warm hand grab your palm.

“woah, yer bleeding! that’s a big cut, it’ll leave an awesome scar!” looking up you saw a mop of brown hair and the same colored eyes. “Let's clean you up, yeah?” with a big ol’ pout on your face, you nodded and let the boy guide you inside to the water fountains in the hallways.

the water was cold, and it hurt like hell running along your wound, but you tried not to cry in order to not look like a big baby in front of the boy. “how’s ‘at feel hmm?” your eyes were red and puffy, and you had tear stains on your pink cheeks but atsumu had still thought you looked pretty. you mumbled out a ‘hurts’ and atsumu nodded. “well if i gave ya half of my strawberry sandwich will that make you feel better?” he smiled at you, hoping to see that cute smile of yours again. you sniffled and nodded, and he led you back outside to his lunchbox and secretly handed you half of the sandwich.

you bit into it and the corners of your mouth instantly lifted. it tasted exactly like the ones your mom had always made in the summer. turning around, atsumu had seen your chubby cheeks stuffed with food and whipped cream all over your mouth. he stared for a second and you turned to look at him too. a mumbled ‘what’ came out of your mouth, barely audible, to which he replied “nothin, yer just pretty.” a slight scowl adorned your face. your dress was ripped, you had dirt all over the fabric, and you were pretty sure that you had wood chips in your braids. you had thought that he was crazy, but then again that was something you had always admired about atsumu.

“do ya think yer mom will be able to sew that up?” you blinked once, twice and said “i don’t have a mom.” atsumu stared blankly at the floor and his lips turned into a straight line.

“well my mom can sew it up for you if ya’d like.” you sat on it for a while. it was a pretty dress and you didn’t want to throw it away, after all you had just gotten it last weekend as a gift for doing so well at your piano recital. plus it was your second favorite color, after pink obviously.

“okay, i’ll tell my dad after school” he nodded and stuck his hand out.

“i’m atsumu” he grinned widely.

timidly you shook his hand and responded, “i’m y/n.”

ever since that fateful day you guys had been stuck at the hip. it was easy in the beginning, all you had to do was follow atsumu around and hold the jar that he caught all the frogs and bugs in. he claimed that being the jar holder was the best job in the world! even going as far as comparing it to being a CIA agent guarding top secret weapons that could end humanity as you know it. of course you knew he was lying, but nonetheless, you were the designated jar holder. on special occasions osamu would hold the jar and he’d let you carry the net. on days like that you would just run around and chase butterflies, laughing away when you would miss entirely. astumu would pout because he wanted you to hold the jar (he really just wanted you to stay behind him and to talk to him), but then you would catch a butterfly and put it on his nose and it always brought back that goofy smile you loved.

being the bug carrier used to be the bain of your existence, but god was it so much easier then going through puberty with the boys. astumu was so sweet in your childhood but as he got older he did start to roughhouse with you and tease you. osamu on the other hand had just gotten more reserved but nonetheless he also roughhoused with you. nothing was worse than when you had gotten all pretty for school and the boys decided to put you in a headlock and nuggie you to death. you’d get so upset and give them the silent treatment until atsumu cracked and whined about how sorry he was and to not leave him because your his best friend. you just tilt your head the other way until osamu offers to make you a strawberry sandwich to which you turn and smile, “deal.” which always left atsumu with his jaw on the floor.

they’d hold your bag over their head, teasing you to grab it while you tippy toed and whined for them to give it back. they’d put you in a headlock and make you smell their BO. they’d rub their sweaty forehead on you. they’d fart and put you in a dutch oven. they just liked to terrorize you.

but what had especially sucked was when you had started puberty. all the boys had gotten was quite a bit of inches to their height and deeper voices, but you were stuck with gaining weight on your chest, thighs and behind. but what really set things off was when you had gotten your first period.

you called atsumu crying and speaking all kinds of gibberish that he couldn’t understand and then you hung up out of nowhere. so atsumu decided to drag osamu along with him to get down to this mystery. you hadn’t lived too far from them. maybe a few blocks down, nothing their bikes couldn’t handle. your dad let them in and he was happy they were there, because he had no knowledge on how to help or comfort you in these situations. you had locked yourself in your room, screaming at your dad and brothers to not bother you or you’d rip their limbs off. you could’ve asked one of your brothers girlfriends for advice, but you felt that maybe it was a little too weird, which definitely was not the case but 12 year old girls tend to exaggerate things.

softly, atsumu knocked calling out your name. you didn’t answer, atsumu had looked at his brother who just shrugged. slowly and quietly he opened the door, and in that split second you had flung a pillow at his face knocking him on the ground.

“ow, what the heck y/n!” atsumu yelled as he rubbed his nose.

“sorry i thought you were one of my brothers.” you held out your hand to pick him up.

you looked a mess. you had a baggy t shirt that belonged to one of your older brothers, some valentine’s day pajamas even though it was the middle of september, and your socks were mismatched. you looked like you had just gotten through a heartbreak, which was odd because atsumu could not recall you talking about a boyfriend or any of the sorts.

“what happened to you?” osamu inquired to which atsumu just nodded. you flushed and threw yourself on the bed, pushing your face into a pillow. you had muttered words but the twins didn’t hear a thing.

“what?” you huffed and repeated what you said, and again, the twins didn’t hear. “huh” you quickly sat up and yelled, “i got my period!” angrily in the heat of the moment and once you processed it you could feel yourself die of embarrassment.

a “so” and “what's that” were said simultaneously which led to atsumu being slapped upside the head by his twin.

“ow what was that for!” pouting, atsumu rubbed his head. osamu rolled his eyes at his older brother,

“remember when mom doesn’t feel good for at least a week each month?” atsumu’s face changed from one of confusion into one of realization.

“ohhh, so y/n’s bleeding from downstairs?” osamu nodded and you were furious.

you flung another pillow at both of them, “just shut up and get me ice cream!” the boys nodded and quickly ran downstairs and hopped on their bikes, peddling to the convenience store. after that encounter the boys had never tried anything with you while you’re on your period, even though you had gotten more mellow about it through the years.

but what really, REALLY sucked? you’re uncharted feelings towards astumu. you have always adored atsumu since the day he helped you when you fell in first grade. but seeing him grow up into a handsome young man really took a toll on your heart. the once chubby cheeked sweet boy was now a sharp jawed tease. he had gotten much taller, and his muscles were also starting to grow from the non-stop volleyball he’d been playing since he was young. his shoulders and biceps were swollen from the hours of training, and his boyish grin had gotten even more charming, panty dropping some would even say. to say he was a stud would be an understatement.

of course you scolded yourself for even thinking of atsumu of anything more than just your best friend, but you couldn’t help but indulge yourself in the thought of being the person he held dearest to his heart. you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to cross the unspoken boundary between platonic love and romantic love. you knew you shouldn’t have these feelings, you couldn’t, but how couldn’t you whenever the man would charm you with his jokes and his antics. surely he was just acting this way because you’re his childhood best friend, that’s all it was, but you longed for it to be something more. your heart was so full of him you could hardly call it yours.

you weren’t quite sure of when the small inklings of adoration had budded into much more, but they bloomed and boy was it big. he consumed your thoughts and you ached to be something more than just friends. how you wished to be the one he buys flowers for just because, the one he gives his umbrella to because you forgot yours, the one who he spent his nights thinking about. it was wrong in so many ways. you were forbidden fruit, atsumu had always thought. he could never admit his feelings because you were his best friend above all else. the thought of losing you plagued his mind when he got the courage to tell you something, forcing him to shove his thoughts away for the sake of your friendship.

maybe you could recall the day you had fallen. maybe it was the summer of 8th grade during summer camp when atsumu had snuck out of his cabin to come see you. you had gotten homesick and the girls in your bunk were such blabbermouths, chatting loudly during lunch why you weren’t in the cafeteria. of course both the twins had over heard, but atsumu was the one to act on it. you heard a faint knock at your window, and low and behold it was those dazzling eyes you knew all too well.

quietly you lifted the window and scolded him, “tsumu, what are you doing here!”

he shushed you and smiled. “i heard you weren’t havin fun” you looked the other way and shook your head.

“cmon, i wanna show you somethin” he grabbed your hand and carefully helped you out the window.

“tsumu we’re gonna get in trouble!” you whisper shouted, your palm in his hand was getting sweaty from being anxious.

he turned and looked at you, pointing his flashlight at your face, “do ya trust me?” nibbling at your lip, you hesitantly nodded and he squeezed your hand.

you continued to let him drag you by the arm until you were standing in front of the lake. it was quiet, the july breeze had felt refreshing on your sweaty skin. the sounds of cicadas chirping was comforting and the scent of summer lingered in the air creating a soft aroma that made you feel fuzzy all the way to your toes.

“turn yer flashlight off” you switched it off and it was pitch black. your veins ran cold.

“tsumu i can’t see anything” you squeezed his hand out of fear, which he responded to by using his thumb to rub your hand, hoping to somewhat soothe you.

“just hold my hand ‘kay?” you nodded, though he couldn’t see you he knew that you had complied.

wordlessly, atsumu swayed some of the tall grass by his foot and suddenly it wasn’t dark anymore.

what seemed like a million fireflies had flown up, shimmering like a thousand stars in the pitch black night sky. instantly your eyes widened and jaw dropped, the sight in front of you was one to behold. atsumu had seen your expression and couldn’t help but smile. if you were both to be caught now, he thought that it would be totally worth it. slowly you reached your hand out to try and grab one but they all fluttered away.

“tsumu this is so pretty” you said in awe but he couldn’t help but stare. he thought you looked even prettier. it was like the sun was shining on your skin and you glimmered like a thousand universes. your eyes so bright and filled with astonishment, the way your eyelashes batted with wonderstruck. that was when he knew you were his forever girl.

a stray hair stuck out on your face, and atsumu’s muscles instantly moved to move it behind your ear. you flushed, your heart stuttered and you couldn’t help but stare in those beautiful brown eyes you’d never get used to looking at. he smiled and it felt like your stomach had done a somersault, like a billion butterflies were trying to escape your tummy. when you both returned to your bunk and said your goodnights, you couldn’t sleep, replaying that moment over and over again until the crack of dawn.

but no, that wasn’t when you had fallen. maybe it was the winter break of 9th grade. it was a week before christmas, and you and the twins were up to no good during the break. snowball fights, tracking mud in the house and letting all the cold air in by walking in and out of their home. the boys had tormented you, shoving your face in the snow, tackling you into the ground and even rolling up a big snowball just to throw it square at your face. to say your face felt like it had been frostbitten was a bit of an exaggeration, but it sure did feel like your face would melt off soon.

slowly the wind and snow had picked up, leaving you snowed in. you called your dad, wondering how you’d get home but all he said was to ask the twins mother if she would let you spend the night if the weather hadn’t calmed in an hour or two. of course she agreed, how could she say no when you’ve put up with her boys for the past 7 years, she practically considered you her daughter.

when the weather hadn’t cleared you and the twins had gotten excited, considering this would be your guys first sleepover. you guys had played board games, mario kart and played on your phones until midnight when samu fell asleep.

“tsumu i’m bored” your stomach rumbled and you looked down. “and hungry” you sheepishly smiled.

“me too” atsumu replied with a frown.

there was a beat of silence before atsumu’s head peaked up. “my mom has some cookie dough in the freezer, we can try and make those!” he grinned. your tummy rumbled again and you eagerly nodded. you couldn't help but think that this was something they did in all those romance movies you watched. your mind filled with thoughts about how they always end up kissing at the end of the scene and you couldn’t help but hope that maybe you’ll get a kiss too.

you both tippy toed downstairs to make the cookies. quietly atsumu opened the freezer and reached all the way in the back corner for the container of dough.

“what kind is it?” you whispered.

he squinted his eyes to look at the packaging. “chocolate chocolate chip” your stomach panged with hunger, eager to have that sweetness in your mouth.

atsumu paused and scratched his head, you could see the gears turning. “do ya know how to bake?”

you face palmed and took the container from his hands. “of course i know how to bake, who do you think made your birthday cake last year?” he shrugged and you continued to read the instructions.

once the oven was preheated, you asked atsumu to help you scoop the dough into little balls and place them on the cookie sheet. of course the little jokester he is he decided to smudge some on your nose. you stood there frozen and your jaw on the floor. he licked his finger of the dough and sent you a sly smile. you retaliated, grabbing a finger full and smearing it on his cheek, sending the same sly smile he sent you. he simply just rubbed it off with his finger and licked it, you made a disgusted face and rolled your eyes. boys will be boys.

once in the oven, you softly hopped on the counter, having to wait 20 minutes for the cookies to be ready.

“tsumu what do you want for christmas?” you queried. his lips turned into a thin line and he put his finger on his chin, thinking about what he wanted. truth be told he didn’t really know what he wanted. maybe some new volleyball shoes, some more video games, maybe even a new cologne he’s been wanting to try.

“i want a million dollars” he grinned and you rolled your eyes.

“tsumu i’m being serious, what do you want?”

all he could do was frown, “why is it so important to ya?” you stopped, and looked the other way.

it was quite embarrassing to say that you wanted to get him a present because you care about him a lot (not because you have a massive crush on the boy), so what would any other teenage girl do in your situation? you beat around the bush.

“just wanna give you something since we’ve been friends for so long” he didn’t believe you, but he just nodded.

“well i don’t really care what i get, i just wanna spend time with ya is all.”

there it was again. that funny feeling you got when he said something that could have been interpreted into something romantic. you bit the inside of your cheek and looked anywhere besides him. you were sure your cheeks were red, and it wasn’t just from the heat of the oven. you just nodded and continued on waiting for the cookies to be ready.

maybe he felt some kind of way about you other than just a friend.

even though you didn’t get the kiss you hoped for, you did get some sort of confirmation of where you stand with the boy, and you’ll take it.

again, that wasn’t when you had fallen. perhaps it was the beginning of 10th grade when atsumu had gotten his first car. atsumu had gotten a camaro, while osamu had gotten a nissan silvia. both were quite nice you had to admit, they were both sleek and looked luxurious. ever since atsumu had gotten his car, he didn’t let anyone near it, not even his mom. he feared someone would ruin his precious baby and he did not want that to happen. no one other than himself had been in it and he intended to keep it that way, that was until 3 weeks on a random friday.

you had been in your room folding laundry and watching tv, you didn’t really have any plans for tonight, maybe facetime the twins and do a face mask. you felt your phone buzz on your bedsheets. you ignored it for a good 5 minutes until it vibrated again. you put down the pair of pants you were folding and reached for the device, wondering who was texting you. opening your phone, you had seen that atsumu had texted you.

tsumu:

are you busy???

tsumu:

i’ll be at your place in an hour n a half, get all dolled up.

your brows drew together in confusion. what the hell was he planning on doing? nonetheless you quickly finished your laundry and hopped in the shower. since very few words were spoken, you didn’t really know the occasion and how you should dress. should you wear a blouse and a skirt? some jeans and a sweater? a dress? you decided something cute and comfy was the way to go, so you opted for flare tights, a white turtle neck with a brown crew neck on top since it was a bit chilly outside. you were feeling very minimalistic, so simple mascara and lipgloss were going to suffice. again, since you didn’t know the occasion, you did a simple blow out on your hair. the finishing touches were gold jewelry your father had gotten you for christmas last year.

you still had time left since atsumu’s last text, so you spent the last 10 minutes wondering what the now blonde was scheming. he was probably just going to take you with him to a practice volleyball match, you can’t count on one hand how many times he’s told you to get ready just to take you to one of his practice matches. you didn’t complain though, hot guys playing sports and getting sweaty was definitely a sight to see.

you heard a rumble down the street and looked outside, low and behold it was your best friend in his squeaky clean car. you ran outside to his window with your mouth open.

“tsumu what are you doing? you’re gonna get your car dirty!” he chuckled and stepped out of the vehicle.

“relax it’ll be okay, it’s only like 5 bucks to wash it” he said as he ruffled your hair. you smacked his arm away and huffed, a pout adorning your face as you tried to calm your hair down from his actions. when you finally looked up at him he felt the wind knock out of his lungs. you looked so damn pretty. your plump and pink lips pouting made him feel fuzzy inside, and the way you looked at him with your wide pretty eyes made him melt. you were the most gorgeous thing to walk the earth in his eyes.

he cleared his throat and put his arms on your shoulders, turning you the other way. “cmon, get in the car already” you paused right in front of the door.

“tsumu are you sure? i’m going to get it dirty” you said nibbling on your cheek. he let out a small laugh and nodded, opening the door for you.

“if i wasn’t sure then i wouldn’t have invited ya ya dunce” he said matter of factly as he flicked your forehead. he hadn’t told you your destination, but the ride to the location was filled with off key singing and laughter. you enjoyed moments like these, feeling each other's presence only fueled the fire in your belly that never seemed to dull. you felt as if he was the heartbeat in your body.

at one point you stopped at a red light and decided to look at him. that was a mistake.

the red glow of the light made him look ethereal. his jaw looked so sharp that it could cut the pillows he sleeps on, his face had a glow to it that made you feel like a volcano was erupting in your stomach. his eyes, shimmering like sparkling gems that had caught light at just the right angle, wide and beautiful. his face was tilted, one arm on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. his arms looked big and beefy gripping on to the wheel, the dark flannel he wore over his gray hoodie really accentuated his biceps. he looked so good, too good. he could feel your stare and turned to look at you as well. looking in your eyes, he gave you that boyish grin that never seemed to fail to give you butterflies. you sent a small one back and turned forward as the light turned green.

atsumu had taken you out to watch a movie and eat at a cute diner that had some amazing burgers. you guys may or may not have gotten kicked out for throwing fry’s at each other, but a good time is a good time right? the drive home was silent, but comfortable, both of you just soaking up each others presence. when you got to your house, you turned to thank atsumu for the night, but he had already gotten out of the car. your face contorted into one of confusion, but a few seconds later your door had opened and his hand stuck out, waiting for yours. you looked up and smiled, gently taking his hand in yours. when you had reached your front door you both faced each other and stared for a good 30 seconds.

“i had fun tonight” you finally managed to get out. he nodded and replied, “me too” then it was quiet again. a breeze picked up and moved pieces of hair in your face. swiftly, atsumu tucked them behind your ear. your cheeks warmed and you batted your eyelashes.

“i’ll see ya at school monday” you nodded and smiled. as he began to walk off your mouth spoke before your brain could process it.

“tsumu?”

he paused and turned, “yeah?”

a sudden flood of courage coursed through your veins. you softly grabbed his hand, your other one gently turned his jaw as you slowly brought your lips up to place a sweet kiss on his cheek. you could feel his cheek warm under your touch, but you didn’t mind, you thought it was cute.

“have a goodnight” you said as you looked in his eyes. he was stunned. the girl of his dreams just kissed him.

“you too” he said breathlessly, walking back to his car with wide eyes. he waited for you to get inside and wave goodbye to him before he fist bumped the air. your lipgloss had left a mark on his cheek and he took as many pictures with it as he could.

when you had walked inside your dad was on the couch watching tv. “hey sweetie, how was your day?” you hid your smile as best as you could and replied with a quick ‘it was good’ as you rushed up stairs. you quickly threw yourself on the bed and grabbed your pillow to muffle your screams of joy and giggles. you felt on top of the world. your stomach could not stop churning and your cheeks burned. you felt so giddy and couldn’t believe that happened. another small step in your book.

but it was definitely the day before spring break of sophomore year that you had fallen.

which was 2 weeks ago to be exact.

you were already having a bad day. your cat that you had gotten when you were 6 passed away, your little brother had thought it would be funny to put water in your piano which damaged the interior detrimentally and you had woken up late which caused you to have bed head. despite all that you tried to be positive, considering you had something good going on in your life.

you had gotten quite a huge crush on a basketball player from your school, and for what it seemed he had shown some interest in you back. you felt excited, you thought that maybe all the romantic things you had dreamed of would come true, maybe this was your soulmate. of course you thought about atsumu as well, but it seemed like all you and atsumu would ever be is just friends. you felt that you should move on, you deserve to find someone that can love you.

that was until the guy straight up said “how could anyone ever want to be with you? you’re annoying and clingy, you can’t even make decisions for yourself. try not to be so insufferable and then maybe we could be a thing.” you froze. you could feel your heart shatter and your face warm. all you had asked was if it was okay to sit by him. angrily you threw your lunch tray at him and rushed out of the cafeteria. hot tears rolled down your face as you walked out the building. what kind of a jerk publicly humiliates a girl all because she asked if she could sit by them. you ran to the metro and prayed that you would get home quickly. you felt like you were suffocating and needed to get home. once home, you hastily threw open the door, running up the stairs and slamming your door closed. your dad had heard you and wondered what all the ruckus was.

knocking, he asked “sweetie what’s up? why are you home early?” you screamed at him to go away and he obliged, too scared and knowing better that it was best to let you be and simmer down.

atsumu had heard about the whole thing during practice. he had already felt bad because he wasn’t at lunch today; he had gotten detention from his coach for being late to practice 3 times that week. he overheard omimi talking about how a point guard went off on a girl and she threw her tray at him. atsumu instantly perked up and butted in the conversation.

“what point guard?” he questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“think it was the one your girlfriend was talking to” suna said with a smug grin. atsumu’s face dropped, completely ignoring suna’s comment as he ran out the gym.

“where is he going?” kita questioned annoyed, the boys just shrugged.

he raced to your house, surprised he didn’t get pulled over but grateful nonetheless. if it really was you that that jerk had yelled at, then he had one thing coming. atsumu’s hand tightly gripped the wheel, angry at the fact that some douchebag had the audacity to raise his voice at you. he was already jealous of stealing your attention, taking his precious time with you away. but you looked so happy and he really didn’t want to ruin that for you. he realized that maybe that guy could give you something that he couldn’t.

but obviously that was totally wrong, and he realized that now as he pulled into your house. he had tried calling you, but to no avail you didn’t answer. he knocked on your door quite loudly, and you father had answered.

“is she here?”

your father shook his head, “no she took off somewhere awhile ago.”

atsumu nodded and thanked him, going back into his car. he stopped and thought for a while. where could you possibly be? you could literally be anywhere on the earth right now.

a thought popped into his head. he remembered that one time when you got into an argument with your dad you ran off like you did now. you had ended up at an ice cream shop by the beach. it was a long shot, but it was the only possible lead he had as to where you are right now. he quickly drove across town, searching for you somewhere in the yellow sand. he saw a couple of people, a boy and his dog, a small family and an elderly couple. just as he was about to leave, he saw a small figure at the end of the beach. it had to have been you. he parked his car and slowly walked towards you. you were sitting up with your arms wrapped around your knees, your chin resting on your forearms. he heard you sniffle and his heart ached for you. quietly, he sat next to you and patted your head.

“hey” you turn your head, red eyes rimmed and puffy. your cheeks were rosey and your hair was disheveled, but atsumu still thought you looked as beautiful as ever. you mumbled out a small hey and turned forward again. the sounds of the waves crashing had calmed you, you longed to jump in the water and never be heard from again.

but you were glad he was here.

it was nice having him right next to you, the loneliness was bearable with him by your side. having him next to you made you feel significantly smaller, in more ways than physical. atsumu held himself high and could easily pick himself back up. but you? you were just an insecure girl looking for someone to be her lifeline. maybe that guy was right. how could anyone ever love you if you can’t even love yourself. you craved validation but for what? for who? why couldn’t you just learn to be alone, what was so bad about it.

“what’s going on in that big head of yours?” you heard from beside you. you paused, you needed something from him to help you see yourself.

“do you think i’m annoying?” you asked softly and atsumu chuckled.

“you talk a lot sometimes, i could say it’s annoying, yeah” the way your eyes welled up with tears made atsumu punch himself internally, now was obviously not the right time for jokes.

“i’m kidding, i don’t think yer annoying. i think yer quite the opposite in fact. quite lovely in my opinion” you nodded but his words didn’t quite get through to you. he could obviously be lying, he is your best friend and all, he could be sparing your feelings.

“‘m serious. i love being around you. you’re such a great person to be around, you’re funny and nice, you listen, you care. you were too good for that jerk in my opinion, you deserve someone way better than that di-“

“tsumu” he smiled sheepishly, “sorry.”

you stared at him, the orange hue from the sun setting made him look stunning. he looked so handsome and you wanted to feel his lips on yours so bad.

“do you mean that?” you asked breathlessly. his eyes met yours and he nodded, something flickered in his eyes that you couldn’t quite recognize. he wrapped his arm around you, leaning your head on his shoulder. just sitting there watching the sunset, you felt at peace. he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, laying his head on top of yours. maybe you were wrong.

maybe atsumu was your soulmate.

that was what you had thought, until out of the blue little miss sunshine and rainbows popped up in the picture.

aiko nakamura.

she was a pretty girl, slim and tall with long legs. she was on the girls track team, and some would say she was one of the cliche it girls. you didn’t really know her, you went to school with her in elementary but you never really had been friends. from what you’ve heard she was nice and funny.

also atsumu’s type apparently.

you were happy for him really, you were just a little upset at the fact that he hadn’t told you anything about her at all. i mean really, what could you do? there was no way you were going to declare your unproclaimed love for him. so of course, being the best best friend you could ever possibly be, you suck it up. you wipe your tears and go on, acting like it doesn’t affect you even if you spend your nights wondering why.

after they had gotten together, your time with atsumu had been cut short significantly. your once friday tradition of hanging out had been given away to some girl atsumu had only been with for 2 weeks. obviously it hurt seeing the guy you’re in love with loving up on someone that wasn’t you, but again, there was not much you could do. watching from afar seemed best, and the once arms length of distance had become one oceans away. he felt just out of your reach and maybe this time it was entirely too late.

after a while, you stopped reaching out to atsumu. you stopped going over, you stopped eating lunch with him, you stopped calling, you stopped texting, you stopped talking. you ached to tell someone about your days because your person was just a ghost of a memory now. you still talked to osamu of course, even hanging with him every now and then. but it just wasn’t the same as your best friend.

one day when you and osamu were chilling in his room, atsumu and his girlfriend were arguing. you could hear the screams and shouts, bickering back and forth. you and osamu just looked at each other, knowing it was best to just mind your business. a few minutes later and you heard stomping down the stairs and a door slam. it was quiet for a little, then atsumu barged into the room.

he moved sluggishly and threw himself onto osamu’s bed.

“‘m guessin you guys fought?” osamu chucked.

atsumu let out a big sigh and had the biggest frown on his face. “she’s mad because i never post her or whatever.”

you decided to stay quiet, continuing to do whatever it was on your phone.

atsumu had noticed your lack of communication recently, and he was upset about it. he wondered if he made you mad or angry at him, or if he did anything wrong. he hated the radio silence and he also hated that you didn’t talk to him about it. he just wanted some type of closure. did you not want to be friends with him anymore? was he too insufferable for you now?

he threw a pillow at you.

“ow, tsumu what the heck!” you glared and all he could do was laugh. atsumu could swear there was steam coming out your ears.

“was just trynna get yer nose out that phone, sorry”

you rolled your eyes, some half assed apology that was.

you guys just sat there a few minutes, it was peaceful and quiet.

“you should go to our game tomorrow” you paused and furrowed your eyebrows.

“i thought aiko was going?” atsumu just shook his head and smiled.

“she is but i want ya to be there too y'know since yer my best friend and all”

“i’ll think about it” another pillow was flung at your head.

going to bed that night you really did think about it. you’d love to go to atsumu’s games but you knew for a fact that aiko was going to be there, and you didn’t want to witness that awkward pda shared between them; you had already walked in on them making out a week before. but of course your heart always wins against your head, and it couldn’t help but thirst about wanting to see atsumu all sweaty and tired from his game.

you had gotten there 10 minutes early and the stands were already packed. their games had always been big, everyone wanted to see the talented players in action. it was both a blessing and a curse to say that you knew those boys. you decided you’d go look for a seat after you said hi to the twins first.

“atsumu y/n is here” kita motioned his hand toward your figure standing by osamu. osamu had spotted you when you first walked in and left aran in the middle of warmups.

from afar, your cheeks looked red, and you seemed nervous. atsumu had wondered if you were sick or if something happened to you. he quickly walked over to you.

just before he had reached you, osamu had pulled you into a hug. his eyebrows drew together. since when were you and osamu that close. he decided to keep his question in the back of his head, deciding he’ll ask about it some other time. you were about to leave, but the blonde had called out for you.

“hey y/n, where ya goin?” eyebrows raised, atsumu waited for your answer.

“i was just going back up to the stands, good luck guys!” osamu patted your head and you left.

there was something brewing in atsumu’s chest, something funny. he looked at his twin with eyebrows furrowed. it was a little odd for you to just randomly hug osamu, so what the hell just happened between you two?

osamu smirked. he could see the glint of jealousy in his brother's eyes. “what?” shrugging his shoulders, he walked off.

you had found a good spot just before the game started. you could see both sides of the court and you could easily see the players. the whistle blew and the game began.

all of the players were amazing, and the rally’s that kept going on were phenomenal. it was a battle that was never ending and it kept you and your toes.

the lights and cheers going on around you really fueled the intensity of the game. it felt like you were watching an olympic game.

you were so caught up with the game that you didn’t hear someone call out your name.

“y/n! what are you doing here?” you turned and aiko stood before you. she looked all pretty and she had atsumu’s jersey on. the one that he never let you wear because it was ‘too precious and i don’t want you to get it dirty’. you felt a pang of hurt in your chest but you smiled.

“oh, hey. the boys invited me to their game and i thought i’d come and support” she nodded and smiled.

“i didn’t think i’d see you here, atsumu always tells me how you never go see him because you’re too scared to get hit by a ball” she laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

you actually didn’t go because you had piano practice, but you didn’t want to burst her bubble.

“oh that’s so funny, he’s always making up some kind of joke” you forced a laugh and turned your attention back to the game.

“yeah he’s always saying something about you” she giggles.

“he also told me about that whole reiji thing”

you stopped.

reiji was the basketball player that you had gotten the big fat massive crush on. he was also the one that yelled at you in the cafeteria.

there’s no way he told her about something like that. something that you had been so raw and vulnerable about. you cried to atsumu about how you really liked him and how he made you feel good about yourself. about how you wish he didn’t say those things because now you feel even more unlovable than you did before.

“he told you… about that?” she nodded and looked towards the court, acting as if what she was saying didn’t affect you.

“yeah what a douche, he definitely could’ve said that over text or something. not that i think it’s true or anything but still!” you nodded and tried to let her words fly over your head.

“but i mean really, how naive were you to think that he would actually want to be with you?”

you could feel your heartbeat in all of your limbs and hear the sound of your blood rushing to your face.

“boys like that only want one thing, and unfortunately for you you don’t have it. maybe if you made yourself look pretty you’d have a boyfriend!” she smiled at you.

you stood there, dumbfounded, shocked about how you should respond. was she trying to help you or bring you down? because it definitely seems like the latter. and it was definitely working. you were embarrassed and wanted to run out of the gym but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

the buzzer went off and the crowd dispersed.

“oh! that’s game, i’ll see you around!” she smirked and waved, walking towards the players.

you were still shocked from the whole ordeal. you could see her run up to atsumu and kiss his forehead. atsumu leaned in for a hug but she backed away, clearly not wanting to get sweat on her outfit.

you also walked down to talk to the boys, but you didn’t want to interrupt the couple so you told osamu good job, giving him a hug. you and atsumu had made eye contact and it was clear he wanted to talk to you, but before he could get to you you panicked and quickly walked out of the gym. you did not want to speak to him especially since he had told his girlfriend about your heartbreak.

he thought it was odd, you always told him bye so why did you run off?

“hey uh, i’ll be right back” aiko gripped his hand and atsumu was taken aback.

“where are you going?” atsumu looked down at his hand, stared at it and retracted his arm.

“just gonna do sumthin real quick” she nodded, but she obviously knew where he was going.

in a light jog, atsumu went to search for you. surely you couldn’t have gone too far, you hadn’t left that long ago.

he spotted your figure just about to exit the building.

“y/n!” you paused and turned, seeing the person you were trying to avoid the most. you could feel yourself shiver.

“where ya goin?” he questioned.

“i’m going home tsumu” he was confused and you could see that in his facial expressions.

“weren’t you gonna tell me bye?” you looked in his eyes and you could feel your anger and embarrassment melt away.

“i didn’t want to interrupt you and aiko. she seems nice by the way. hope you guys are happy” you said, forcing a smile. you walked off but atsumu could clearly see that something was up with you. he didn’t want to push so he settled for a small smile and a wave.

“call me tonight kay?” you nodded, not looking behind you.

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #miya astumu #atsumu fanfic #hq atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu angst #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x y/n #childhood friends #childhood friends to lovers #atsumu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #msby atsumu #mutual pining #high school sweethearts

[moonsgemini]

american heartbreak - i

summary: all June Summers wants is to be Rafe Cameron’s date to the county fair dance. Everyone from town would be there and she was tired of going alone. She was tired of watching him dance with other women, tired of waiting around for him.

warnings: cowboy!rafe x oc (minimal to no oc description, mutual pining, angst, fluff

wc: 2.7k

an: I hope you guys enjoy! I love cowboy rafe. I also just love writing au’s there’s so much more room for creative freedom. I basically just use rafe as a face claim bc drew starkey is a literal greek god.

series masterlist

The sound of June’s boots as she paced back and forth behind the counter were beginning to drive Amber crazy. She was trimming tulips to make a new bouquet but she could barely concentrate when the her coworker was an anxious mess. The soft sound of music wasn’t enough to drown out the clacking of boots against wood. June bit her fingernails anxiously, her stare not leaving the floor as she was lost in thought.

“June I swear I’m going to kill you if you don’t relax,” She scolded the girl who stopped abruptly.

She smiled sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I just am really nervous. What if he like laughs at me or something?”

Amber rolled her eyes, “That boy would never laugh at you.”

“You never know. What if he like thinks I’m crazy or worse never speaks to me again after he rejects me because he feels so bad!” She exclaimed dramatically.

“How do you even sleep at night with all this worrying?”

“I don’t get much of it.”

All week June had been practicing over and over in her head how she would ask her lifelong crush, Rafe, to the county fair. At the end of the night there would be a dance that the whole town went to. It was a big deal around here, and going with a date was a big deal. Every year there would be some new surprising couple that would be the talk of the town for the next few weeks before some new gossip spread. June had been pining over Rafe Cameron like a love sick puppy since they were eleven years old when boys started becoming cute and not gross anymore.

She had planned on asking him when he came in this afternoon. Rafe always came in on thursday evenings after practice to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers to take to his mom’s grave. A tradition he started in high school, the day before the rodeo, he’d go visit his mom. To this day he swore she was his goodluck charm. When June started working at the flower shop at sixteen she was ecstatic to have another excuse to see Rafe.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and her palms started sweating, it was six now which meant he was out of practice by now. June decided to make herself busy in the mean time to occupy her jittery fingers.

Rafe parked outside the small flower shop and let out a sigh of relief. Being at the flower shop on meant it was the end of his practice week and now he just had to worry about riding. It also meant he got to visit his favorite girl, and he wasn’t talking about his mom.

He looked into his rearview mirror of his old pick up truck and adjusted his hat. Checking himself to make sure he didn’t have any dirt or muck on his face. He got out of his truck making long strides towards the door. As he entered that all too familiar bell jingled alerting June and Amber or his presence. The smell of fresh flowers over took his senses, as well as the presence of his favorite flower girl.

June looked up from where she was picking the leaves off of the carnation stems. Her eyes widening for a second, her face beginning to feel hot as she smiled shyly at him. Suddenly any ounce of confidence she had to ask him about the dance left her body. That smirk he always wore turning her into a pile of mush. She’s surprised her legs were still holding her up as he walked over to the counter.

“Hi Rafe,” She said softly. Amber smiled to herself as she watched them interact. She sneakily walked into the back room to give them some privacy. It was a little routine she did whenever Rafe came in.

“Hi sweetheart, whatcha got today for me?” He asked resting his palms against the counter supporting his weight as he leaned towards her.

He was such a natural flirt. She could barely look him in the eyes most of the time, “we just got a bunch of beautiful tulips in so I made you a bouquet of purple ones with some baby’s breath,” June walked over to the one of the bucked holding an abundance of bouquets, “I also put a few daisy’s to add a bit more to it.”

She showed him the bouquet proudly. A wide smile spreading across his face, “That is beautiful. You’re so good. Mom will love them.”

June knew Rafe’s mom. She cared for everyone in town like they were all her family. Whenever June would be over at their house hanging out with Sarah she would make them food, always let them ride horses. When they were really young she’d let them play in the rain and get all muddy, when other mom’s in town would scold her for letting the kids look like a mess. She was the sweetest woman.

“Always the best for her,” She fidgeted with her hands nervously. If he knew the effect he had on her he’d be too powerful.

He pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. Since he was their best customer she never charged him more than that. Clueless Rafe just thought that was how much each bouquet was, “Am I seeing you tomorrow at the rodeo?”

She nodded, “Of course. I might help out Mrs.Mayfield sell raffle tickets.”

“Always the helpful one. I better see you at the Rooster after,” He pointed at her scolding playfully. Roosters was one of the local bars everyone went out to.

June laughed softly, “Maybe, I doubt you’d even notice if I wasn’t there.”

“Darlin I always notice when you’re not around,” He smirked, “I better get going to see mom.”

“Goodluck tomorrow Rafe,” She smiled with a small wave as he began walking out.

He tipped his hat at her with that cute lopsided smile on his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow Ms.Summers.”

June watched him walk out to his truck, a dumb love struck smile on her face. That crush she’s had on him since second grade was never going away.

“You chicken.”

She jumped and reached to clutch her chest, “Oh my god you scared me.” She scolded her friend.

Amber had her arms crossed leaning against the doorway to the back, “You didn’t ask him!”

“I couldn’t! My brain got all blurry. I-I just can’t handle the thought of rejection. Especially not from him.”

“Did you not hear everything he said to you?” She walked over standing in front of June, “He practically was begging you to go tomorrow. Verbatim said ‘I always notice when you’re not around’ um hello?”

June shrugged, “He’s just being nice, that’s just Rafe.”

Amber stared at her with a deadpan expression, “I wish I could put you in a choke hold right now.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll try to ask him tomorrow after the rodeo.”

“I’m sure you will. But we’re definitely going out after,” She smiled.

-

June and Amber had been friends since they were in diapers. Their moms being best friends themselves it was almost a given that their two daughters would be just as close. After they graduated high school they took all the money they had saved up and rented a cute little house in town. Now they were working on buying out Mr.Robertson for his flower shop. They had been working in it since they were fifteen and they wanted it to be their’s. Mr.Roberston kindly offered to sell it to them since he was getting too old to take care of it himself and once he sold it he’d move to Florida with his daughter.

The girls were close to buying it, needing a few more months to get the rest of the money. Most people wanted to move out of the small town they were born in but that wasn’t June or Amber. June liked it there, she liked the familiarity and the comfort it brought. She liked her life here, she liked living with her best friend and working with her too. She liked being five minutes away from her parents. June felt lucky to be where she was and have the people she had in her life.

After closing they had stopped by the grocery store to pick up stuff for dinner. Now headed home in June’s dad’s old mustang they enjoyed the cool summer afternoon breeze and listened to their favorite artist, Taylor Swift. June felt like she had the perfect life. The only thing she longed for was someone to be by her side. Of course she had Amber but she wanted a romantic relationship. She wanted someone who could hold her at night and take her out on dates.

It’s not like she hadn’t tried to get a boyfriend. June had gone on a few dates but they never ended well. She was seeing Liam, a local mechanic, for a month but then she saw him flirting and kiss another girl at Rooster’s. After that she went on a date with a local bull rider, one of Rafe’s teammates, but he never called her after the night was over. June thought it was because she didn’t put out on the first date. She doesn’t know that it was because Rafe cornered the guy and threatened him. Told him if he ever went out with you again he’d tie him to his truck and drag him across town.

Amber had her own boyfriend, James, who was friends with Rafe. They worked together on the Cameron farm and occasionally helped coach Rafe. June has refused his attempts to set her up with Rafe more times than she could count. James moved to town a few years ago after he heard that the Cameron’s were looking for another ranch hand.

“Wanna invite Sarah for dinner?” Amber asked as they carried the groceries into the house.

June shrugged, “Sure, we haven’t seen her since she left for Charleston.”

“I’ll call her, can you get started on the potatoes please,” Amber said as she started dialing Sarah.

“yeah yeah,” June rolled her eyes playfully as she unpacked the grocery bags.

The three girls were all friends in school and Sarah ended up moving to North Carolina for college once they graduated. They managed to stay as close as possible with the distance. Sarah is Rafe’s sister and of course she knew of June’s infatuation with her older brother. Sarah wanted them to end up together, always talked about how perfect it would be to have her as a sister in law.

When they were younger and June would go to Sarah’s house she always prayed she’d run into Rafe. Occasionally she would but he was the same old Rafe back then. Would make slightly flirty comments towards her making her flustered and making her crush on him grow.

-

The girls sat around the dining table laughing at old stories from their childhood. Every time they got together it felt like they were fifteen again sneaking alcohol from Ward’s liquor cabinet and turning into a fit of tipsy giggles.

“And then Rafe came out from the barn and June practically jumped on him she was so excited to see him,” Sarah laughed tilting her head back.

June covered her embarrassed face at the memory, “Oh god! I forgot about that.”

“That was the closest you’ve gotten to him like ever,” Amber added, “You need to drink tequila again.”

“That will probably be the closest I get to him ever,” She said a hint of sadness in her voice.

“June you should just ask him out yourself. Forget all that old fashioned stuff. My brother would never be mean to you.”

June took a sip of her wine, “I know he wouldn’t be mean but it’s the rejection that turns me away. He could have anyone why would he want me. He also is always out with some other girl. She’s usually a lot prettier than me.”

“June Summers you know I don’t tolerate that negative talk in our house,” Amber scolded, “You are beautiful and he would be lucky to have someone like you. I also highly doubt he’d reject you.”

She smiled at her, “And how do you know that?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “Because he’s like practically in love with you! He doesn’t great other girls the way he treats you. He also looks at you different.”

“Then why has he never asked me out! It just doesn’t make sense. I’d rather keep him as a friend than lose him completely.”

“I wish he didn’t have such a thick skull then maybe he’d have some sense,” Sarah stood grabbing the girls empty plates to take to the sink.

“Fallin off too many bulls in his life,” Amber giggled.

June stood to grab the bottle or wine to refill their glasses, “Oh I’m gonna head out soon. Rafe is picking me up on his way home from James’ and he texted me he’s on his way,” Sarah said beginning to wash the dishes.

“Come on so early?” Amber gave her puppy eyes.

She laughed, “Yes, I have an exam online in the morning I still need to study for. That masters won’t get itself ladies.”

“Speaking of James has Amber told you that she thinks he’s going to propose soon,” June smirked trying to forget about the fact that Rafe was coming to her house soon.

“Shut up!” Sarah exclaimed.

“I know! He’s been so suspicious lately! He’s been working a lot and he’s not so subtly asked me for my ring size last month. Then he went to the city last week but he didn’t want me to come because he said he was doing some boring errands for Ward,” Amber’s cheeks began hurting from smiling so much at the thought of her boyfriend, “But I don’t believe that for a second. I think he went to buy a ring.”

“Oh please get married soon! I want to be a bridesmaid,” Sarah said excitedly as she dried her hands. There was a knock on the door as she finished, “That’s me, go get the door June while I get my things together.” She smirked at her friend.

“I hate you guys,” She whisper shouted in case he could hear them. Amber practically pushed June to the door.

She took a deep breath fixing her hair a bit before opening the door. He stood looking the same as he did earlier that day, still just as handsome as before. He smiled as soon as he saw her, he was really hoping it’d be June answering the door.

“Hi Rafe,” She said softly. Her timid demeanor returning whenever she was around him, he made all her confidence vanish always.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you tonight?” He asked with that cute smile he always wore around her. For a second she pretended he was picking her up for their first date.

“I’m good, and you?” She asked politely still stuck in her daydream.

“Better now, is Sarah ready?” He asked breaking her from her fantasy. Truthfully Rafe didn’t want the conversation to end but he knew he was there for a reason.

“Uh yeah she’s just getting her things,” As if on cue Sarah showed up next to June.

“I’m ready,” She hugged June tightly, “I’ll see you tomorrow Juney.”

“Does that mean you’re going out tomorrow with everyone?” Rafe asked with a smirk, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I guess so, can’t say no to this one,” She smiled nodding her head towards Sarah.

“I’m her favorite what can I say,” Sarah shrugged smirking, “Come on Rafe I gotta study.” She walked towards the truck leaving Rafe behind.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then June bug,” He tipped his hat at her like he always did before walking down the porch steps.

“Bye Rafe,” She waved and waved towards Sarah who was smiling at the pair from inside the truck.

June spent the night praying that the words Sarah said earlier that night were true. That Rafe somehow was in love with her. But she couldn’t help that voice that was always in the back of her head telling her how that could never be possible.

Maybe tomorrow she’d have some tequila.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks