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luveline · 1 year

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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]

fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem.

You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow.

You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.

It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.

You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it.

He likely wouldn't waste his time with you.

Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder.

You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine.

"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired."

Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing."

Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze.

"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something."

"What, nobody else is available?" you ask.

His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?"

You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar.

You shake it off.

"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether.

His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does.

"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding.

Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile.

He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression.

"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.

You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date?

Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more.

Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable.

For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks.

You wander into the kitchen to help.

"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?"

"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza."

"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted.

"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook.

"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?"

You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want."

His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled."

You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.

It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome.

There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks.

"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces.

It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe.

You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–"

Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery.

He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop?

"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects."

You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling.

"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks.

Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air.

Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug.

"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus."

He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door.

“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks.

You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint.

Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual.

Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins.

"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket.

The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still.

"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.

"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?"

"Just water will be fine."

"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."

You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs.

Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…"

He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum.

Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves.

He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face.

"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?"

"Three?" you ask.

His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working."

"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering."

"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves."

"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too."

"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls."

You look down at the table.

"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too."

"What's that mean?"

"What?"

"You know what," you say.

Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table.

"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to."

You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly.

"That's cruel."

"What?"

"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.

"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean."

Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to.

"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly.

"I want to be more than that."

"You're making fun of me."

"No."

Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant.

"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality.

You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say.

"Why not?" he asks, frowning back.

"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud.

People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones.

Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly.

"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–"

"No, I am," you say.

"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it."

You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.

Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you.

"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly.

"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week."

"He did put you in the back," you say, confused.

"Exactly."

Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display.

"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally.

"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear."

Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm.

He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.

"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?"

Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright."

There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap.

Eddie takes the plunge.

He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.

You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring.

"I think you're handsome, too," you say.

Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist."

He's not wrong.

—

Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once.

"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.

"Staring."

"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?"

Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too."

"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere."

"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner."

"Christ," Marcie says from across the room.

"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something.

"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says.

Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud."

"You would be too–"

"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know."

"Don't be jealous that I got there first."

"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished."

Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles.

He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world.

He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun.

It's glorious.

And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion.

He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job."

"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever."

You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet.

"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed.

He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand.

"You're awful," you murmur.

He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.

"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–"

"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me."

"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths.

You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you.

"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up."

"I want to mess you up," he says easily.

"I know you do."

Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches.

He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth.

"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry.

You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms.

"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw.

"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not."

No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, it helps more than you know!! <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #eddie munson x plus sized reader #eddie munson x plus size reader

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dominicfikue · 8 days

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𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 . . . featuring matthew sturniolo.

𓏲๋ 𓂃 — PAIRING. good girl!reader x guitarist!matt.

beware of. SMUT. mentions of unprotected sex. teensy age gap ( 19 & 21 ). reader lives w her parents. use of pet names.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ .⁺ headline. different scenarios to show the flirty dynamic between two ‘innocent’ neighbors.

— GUITARIST!MATT WHO: makes it a habit to say good morning to you— an absolute angel, every single day. toothpick hanging from his pink lips as he leans against the white picket fence. you can’t do anything but meekly return the greeting, your big doe eyes focused on the grass beneath you as he showers you in complements.

“good morning, sunshine. jesus, you look… gorgeous. where ya headed?”

— GOOD GIRL!READER WHO: bakes goodies for the musician next door. it’s okay fair to return the favor since he’s such a sweetheart to you. you wake up at the crack of dawn, pulling up the “strawberry blondie bars” recipe you found on social media.

you try your hardest to be quiet, not wanting to wake your parents upstairs. once the treats are ready, you package them in a pink container before taping a note on top. during one of many morning conversations between you two, you hand the brunette the blondies, a grin plastered on your lip gloss-covered lips.

“oh i almost forgot! made these for ya since you’re always so nice to me. i hope you like them!”

— GUITARIST!MATT WHO: answers your phone calls on the first ring, no matter how late it is. you dial him, small sniffles coming from your side of the phone. your parents had begged you to go on a date with this boy from church, convinced that you needed a good influence in your life since matt was ‘corrupting you’. wrong they were.

once he found out you didn’t wanna sleep with him, he called you a prude and sped off in his truck. now here you were, stranded at a restaurant at 12:30 AM. as soon as matt heard your shaky voice & your situation, he put his guitar down and practically ran out to his car to come pick you up. he’s fuming, praying he runs into the guy one of these days to teach him a lesson.

“j-just stay still for me, okay sweetheart? i’ll be there soon, ten minutes tops.”

— GOOD GIRL!READER WHO: pleads and pleads with matt to let you come over and watch him practice. of course you’ve heard him from your room, the bass from his electric guitar coursing through your walls from time to time but you wanted to see it up close and personal.

after multiple “no’s” & “it’s too much for your pretty lil’ ears”, he finally gives in, leading you inside his home with his hand resting dangerously low on your back. when you reach the basement, you see all of his equipment— his amp, a mic, etc. not to mention, the star of the show, the guitar.

he nods for you to take a seat on the grey L-shaped couch as he takes a seat in a foldable chair in front of you. once he knows he has all of your attention, he begins playing a very familiar song— godspeed by frank ocean. with his fingers moving smoothly against the strings and his lip tucked between his teeth as he concentrates, you can’t help but clench your thighs at the sight.

— GUITARIST!MATT & GOOD GIRL!READER WHO: both have journals about the other. they both consisted of lewd & dirty thoughts, yours definitely more… explicit than matt’s. you’re writing in said journal when you see a figure pop through your window, a smug smile playing on his lips. matt’s presence seemed to distract you, your journal wide open in your lap.

as he gets climbs in your room and gets closer, he notices the book causing him to snatch it up and look through it, not expecting to read anything like that from you. you lean up and try to grab it back frantically, embarrassment lingering all around you but matt kept you in place with his other hand as he continued reading. you’re already getting your apology ready but before you can say anything, matt beats you to it.

“this true, sunny? you wanna ‘feel my soft lips against your skin while you’…. woah. you got a hell of a mouth on you, don’t ya?” his eyes wide as they still remain on the paper.

“doing so good, baby. riding me all by yourself just like you said you would … can’t believe it.” he drags out, his words muffled as he leaves marks down your neck. you having to hide the hickies didnt seem to cross your mind, the state of euphoria you were in clouding your thoughts. you felt on top of the world and all of matt’s praise was only fueling the feeling.

you don’t even notice that he paused your movements to pursue his own, breathy groans coming from the boy underneath you. matt’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he basically drills into you. with one last thrust, you release all over him, a loud and catty whine leaving your throat. matt finishes not too long after you, filling you up nice & full.

in all honesty, it was bound to happen sooner or later. i mean, he was only a door away.

solai speaks. headcannon layout inspo from the one & only @musegyra! i enjoyed writing this so much like you have no idea. i’ve been in my music matt bag lately 😭. speaking of, part one to get him back will be out this week! enjoy <3.

taglist. @fawnchives @prettyvyll @trickywritters @breeloveschris @lorarri @gnxosblog @firexovni @tylerstacobell @ivonchetooo1239 @bernardsgf @dracoflaco @strniolo @paibey @hearts4chriss @sturniololo @rootbeerworshiper @tillies33ssss @katluckybear @realuvrrr @junnniiieee07 @ireadstoriss @summerssover @watercolorskyy

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5ueckers · 3 months

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but i'm a cheerleader

pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

warnings : smut. semi–public sex.

notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠

words : 2148

xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.

you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.

you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.

but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.

yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.

your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.

while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.

“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.

there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”

her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”

“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.

she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.

you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.

“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.

paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.

you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”

“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”

she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.

high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.

she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”

one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.

you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.

“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.

“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.

your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.

“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.

“want you,”

“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”

you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.

her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.

paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.

“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”

paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”

you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.

you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.

and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.

you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.

“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.

what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.

“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.

“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”

paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.

“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.

she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.

“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.

paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”

you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.

finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.

“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.

“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”

she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”

she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”

“10/10, hands down!”

#fic : but i'm a cheerleader.#paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wlw #pb.

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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can I request one with Spencer Reid based on the season 4 club scene??? He's there with Morgan and stares at the reader and Morgan shows him how to approach her but the reader doesn't fall for Morgan's approach, then Reid gives it a try and she turns into a giggly blushing mess at how cute he is and his weird facts!! Idk something fluffy??

reader is slightly mean to morgan in this one and i'm so sorry to have dissed the love of my life </333

"Don't bother," Morgan catches Spencer's shoulder when the man looks like he's about to give you their 'have you seen this man?' spiel. "I tried to tell her about the unsub, but she's not very impressed by men cornering her in the club. We don't have to worry about her, she won't fall for his bullshit."

"She should know, though." Spencer frowns, watching as you stare lazily at your drink, watching condensation drip down the glass, "I'll tell her."

"Reid, I'm telling you, she's not a potential victim," Morgan squeezes his shoulder, "Listen, if I couldn't get her to talk to me, there's no way the creep we're looking for could win her over. And he's not gonna waste his time on someone who says no to him."

The expression on your face changes from a dark scowl when a man stands a few inches too close to you while ordering a drink, to a soft, disinterested pout when he leaves again and you're able to relax. You don't look resistant, you look hesitant. You don't look like you're refusing to talk to anyone, you look like you're waiting for the right person to talk to you, and Derek Morgan was wrong.

"I'll just be a minute," Spencer slips out from beneath Derek's heavy hand and ignores the agent's groan as he approaches you. He knows Morgan's eyes are heavy on his back while he steps up to your barstool, but he pushes away the pressure of an audience to smile kindly at you.

"Hello," He offers, his voice barely audible over the music. His fingers latch tight around the strap of his messenger bag and the flyer he's holding wrinkles in his firm grip, "I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, I'm here to warn you about a potential threat."

Maybe it's not the strongest way to start off a conversation with a pretty girl at a bar, but it's the information you need to know. Stuttered flirting and watered-down drinks can come later, if they happen at all; Spencer's priority is your safety.

Your brows raise and you look past Spencer's shoulder hesitantly, "Is it him? He tried trapping me earlier."

Spencer's chest relaxes slightly where it had been tensed, and he lets out a mild laugh, "Well, he's not the main threat I'm worried about. Did he- did he do the thing where he called you sugar?"

"Mm-mm," You shake your head, taking a sip of the sad remains of your drink and speaking after you swallow, "Sweet cheeks."

Even Spencer winces. Where Morgan's strategy is charm first, then the ugly stuff, Spencer thinks it's only fair to let you know why he's there before letting himself get distracted.

"He thinks that's some sort of magic spell," He laments, "Uh- I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable. Technically, he was just trying to warn you about the same guy I'm warning you about, but we have a very different way of going about business."

"I can tell," You nod, eyes widening slightly for emphasis. Then you glance at the stool beside your own, "Sit down, Doctor. Tell me about this creep. Well- the one on the flyer."

Morgan watches with something ugly rearing in his chest as Spencer takes the seat you've offered him, but he wrestles it down to replace it with pride. Perhaps he'll have to reevaluate his strategy when it comes to disinterested patrons, but as he watches Spencer magically find his business card behind your ear, he's not sure he'll ever have what the young doctor does.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

Bubblegum Bitch (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, attempted sexual assault, dumb!reader, bimbo!reader, kook!reader, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: ...because you’re just too dumb to look out for yourself, Rafe takes matters into his own hands.

You hung onto Sarah as she helped you into her house, your ankle screaming in protest with every movement. You were thinking that maybe you should’ve listened to the blonde when she told you not to climb so high on the rock, but the sunset was too pretty, and you wanted to get the perfect picture. As much as your ankle was hurting, it was kind of worth it.

“Okay, sit here, and I’ll get some ice,” Sarah told you, depositing you on her couch.

“Okay!” you chirped, distracted as you flipped through your phone to study the pictures you took. “They came out so pretty!”

You showed Sarah as she neared, and she sent you a warm smile, a soft chuckle escaping her.

“Yeah, but next time, let’s come up with a less dangerous way to get the pictures,” she advised, bag of ice in hand.

You hissed a bit when the cold touched your skin, relaxing as it started to soothe the ache.

“Your mom would kill me if you got seriously hurt again.”

You knew what Sarah was referring to, of course.

That one time you were at a bonfire and leaned too far over to roast the marshmallows, something that took forever for that particular part of your hair to grow back from. Or that time you weren’t paying attention while dipping some punch at a party, and the glass bowl holding it all fell all over you, shallow cuts adorning your feet for weeks. Your face fell some as you thought about how mad your mom had been at Sarah for not looking out for you better.

It didn’t seem fair to you.

It’s not like you were some kid who couldn’t do anything right.

“It’s just a sprain…I think,” you added, shrugging. “She doesn’t have to know.”

Sarah gave you a look at that, and just then, movement on the stairs caught your attention.

You looked up, eyes landing on a familiar face, and you smiled at the sight of him. Sarah’s brother Rafe was someone you mostly saw in passing. Sometimes you found yourself interacting with him, offering him some of your fries to which he’d dryly decline, or the odd occasion where you were in his way, hurrying to move at the mean sneer on his face. Rafe always seemed to be in a bad mood when you were around, and because Sarah assured you he was just like that, you always tried your best to cheer him up.

“Hey, Rafe,” you called.

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the sound of your voice, huffing to herself. She rolled her eyes as she turned back around, and you blinked at him when he didn’t return your smile. You watched him sigh, ignoring as you he asked Sarah where their parents were.

“Out,” the younger girl quickly replied.

You watched Rafe throw her a look at that before his gaze landed on you again.

“Any reason why she’s here?” he asked, and your brows drew together.

Something about his tone didn’t make you feel good, but you brushed it aside when Sarah just shook her head, quietly telling you to ignore him.

“I do,” she said, standing to her feet. “I’m going to get something to wrap it.”

You smiled at her as she hurried upstairs, and when you looked over, you found Rafe’s gaze on you as he leaned against the kitchen counter. You noticed that he stared at you a lot, especially when Sarah wasn’t around, and you didn’t know why. You watched his blue eyes fall to your ankle where you held the ice, and he brought the beer in his hand up to his lips.

“What happened?” he mumbled around the neck. “Try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”

You blinked, frowning a bit just as he chuckled.

“No?” you replied, confused by the odd comment. “I was taking pictures of the sunset, and I needed to get on some rocks to get a good picture…”

You trailed off when he started to laugh, shaking his head at you.

“Of course, you were,” he slowly commented. “I don’t even know why I asked.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, and you chewed on your lip, glancing away as he continued to eye you.

“Are you going to Topper’s party, tonight? I’m going with Sarah,” you tried to change the subject, smiling at him.

Rafe stared at you in silence for a while, strangely and with a frown on his face. After some time, he scoffed, pushing himself away from the counter, looking at you from beneath his lashes.

“He’s kind of my best friend, Y/N,” he slowly said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shuddered at the sound of your name coming from his lips. He always had a way of saying it that made you feel…uneasy. It was like when you drank just enough to feel bad but not enough to ignore it. Your chuckle was light, not thinking of that for some reason, and you nodded.

“That makes sense.”

Rafe was nearing the stairs just as Sarah reappeared at the top of them, and he kept his gaze on you for as long as possible.

“You should probably stay home though,” he threw over his shoulder. “We wouldn’t want you to fall in a hole somewhere after you’ve had too much to drink.”

Your friend hissed his name as she passed him, a deep frown on her face, but Rafe only chuckled to himself. Again, the comment had your mind wandering in confusion. Topper’s mom kept their yard to perfection, and there wasn’t a patch of uneven grass, let alone any holes. Sarah heavily sighed as she neared you with some gauze, mumbling to herself.

“He’s such an ass,” she voiced. “Seriously, just ignore him.”

That was what she always told you, but it was kind of hard to do. Rafe had a way of stealing your attention sometimes whether you wanted to give it or not, and it wasn’t just because he was pretty. He was so different from Sarah, and you guessed he fascinated you in a way. Always so grumpy and unhappy, and it seemed like no matter how much you tried to cheer him up or at least get a smile out of him, it never worked.

…and you didn’t know why.

“Don’t sweat it so much,” Kelce chuckled later that night. “Rafe is Rafe.”

He smiled at you, flicking your chin, and making you join him. Two of his friends were with him, Topper glued to Sarah’s side, and Rafe nowhere to be found. You didn’t remember their names, although you were sure you’d met them before. Their faces did look familiar, after all, and you felt bad about not being able to place them.

They didn’t seem to care much though as they returned your smile.

“That’s a cute dress,” one of them said, reaching out and pulling on the end. “You always wear the cutest stuff though.”

“Isn’t it?” you added, spinning around and making the skirt fly up a bit. “Sarah picked it out!”

“Sarah has great taste,” the other told you, eyes looking over you and admiring the dress.

You imagined he liked the color just as much as you did, and you started telling him about how it was the last one, and Sarah had to almost fight some lady for it. You were taking a sip of your drink when you took a step back, bumping into someone, and you jerked when the cold liquid spilled onto you. You gasped in shock, more than grateful when Kelce grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the fabric.

“I got it,” you told him, reaching for it instead, but he smiled at you, insisting.

However, another hand came between you and snatched the napkin away. You blinked in shock, looking up just as Rafe’s other hand grabbed your arm, starting to pull you away.

“Hey, Rafe,” Kelce nervously chuckled. “We were just… She had an accident so…”

He trailed off, and you looked between him and Rafe as the blond pulled you away. He gave Kelce a look that you couldn’t place, the other guy and his friends sort of shrinking in on themselves.

“Uh huh,” was all Rafe said, and you stumbled with him in confusion as he led you away.

“What are you doing? Is it Sarah?”

Rafe softly chuckled to himself at that, shaking his head.

“Is it Sarah,” he mumbled, sounding more like a statement. “No, it’s not Sarah.”

He roughly let you go, making you stumble, and you frowned as he threw the napkin at you.

“Here,” he spat, huffing to himself as he looked you over. “Clean yourself up.”

You slowly did as he said, carefully watching him as he watched you, jaw clenching and eyes hard. There was that sour feeling again. Here you were, at a party and surrounded by so many people, but it strangely felt like you and Rafe were the only ones in the room. There was an uneasy feeling in your chest, and you bit your lip.

“Are you…are you mad at me?” you nervously asked.

It was a silly thing to ask because why would Rafe be mad at you? However, his rough treatment wasn’t like him. In fact, you couldn’t ever remember a time where Rafe had so much as touched you. The look he gave you was enough to curdle milk, and when he sighed, your shoulders drooped in relief.

“Nah,” he drawled, lips pressed together as his eyes met yours. “Who could be mad at you? That’d be like getting mad at a child.”

You blinked, but before you could ask him what he meant, he gruffly told you to find Sarah and stay out of trouble. You frowned a bit, still wiping at your dress as you slowly turned and did as he said. When you looked over your shoulder, Rafe was still watching you, and you guessed he wanted to make sure you found Sarah okay.

“…and…just what are you doing?”

You straightened a bit, pushing yourself to your knees as you looked up to find Rafe looking down at you. His face was pinched as he studied you, and you grinned at him, hands resting on your thighs.

“Hey, Rafe!” you suddenly remembered that he’d asked you something. “My phone fell under the couch.”

You gestured to the piece of furniture, and you were just about to bend over again when Rafe reached down to grab your arm, pulling you to your feet. You eyed him as he did the same to you before taking your place. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching him, and your confusion at his strange attitude disappeared when he reemerged with your phone. A delighted gasp left you as you reached for it, pausing when Rafe held it out of reach.

“You know, I think you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.”

That was something your mom said often too. His eyes looked between yours, and you swallowed when he moved closer. His chest brushed against yours, and your heart raced.

“Thanks for getting it for me,” you finally said, reaching for it again to no avail.

Confusion filled you.

“If I give it to you, what will you give me?” he murmured, and you blinked, brows raising a bit.

“Well…what do you want?”

Rafe only rolled his eyes at that, chuckling before dropping your phone in your hand. You held it to you just as he moved, and you were startled by the feel of him reaching down and pulling on the end of your skirt, pulling it down some. You hadn’t even noticed that it had ridden up, and you looked at him with a smile, thanking him.

“Where’s Sarah?” he suddenly wondered, plopping down on the same couch you’d just been searching under.

“She said she was on her way, but I think she’s still with Topper.”

You watched Rafe’s blue gaze linger on your legs, and you looked down, fearful that you’d scratched yourself or something in your search for your phone. When you didn’t find anything, your eyes met Rafe’s when you looked up, and you watched the corner of his mouth curve upwards.

“You’re too nice, you know that?”

“Me?” you laughed. “I don’t think so. No nicer than anyone else.”

Rafe snorted at that, and you moved to sit down next to him as you waited for Sarah.

“If it wasn’t for Sarah, so many people on this island would eat you alive, you know.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, frowning, and that just seemed to amuse Rafe more. He didn’t elaborate either, opting to run his eyes over you instead, and when they landed on your skirt, he reached over to pull it down where it had ridden up some again. You softly thanked him, and he pointed at you at that, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

“That,” he said, shaking his head. “That is exactly what I’m talking about.”

You curiously eyed him as he stood just as you heard a vehicle in the yard.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me for something like that,” he told you with an unreadable smile. “I might take it the wrong way.”

You watched Rafe’s back as he made his way towards the stairs, only looking away when Sarah rushed in, repeatedly apologizing.

Rafe always said things like that to you, things you didn’t quite understand. To be fair, there were a lot of things you didn’t understand, but especially the things Rafe seemed to say. Why wouldn’t you thank him for making sure your skirt was pulled down? Why would he take that the wrong way? In what way?

When you’d brought it up to Sarah one day, she’d merely scoffed and called him a sick pervert before apologizing again for leaving you alone with him.

“He’s so…sleazy, sometimes, you know?”

You didn’t know, actually. Outside of his mood swings, Rafe was at least respectful to you. At least, you felt like he was, but Sarah talked about her brother like he was the scum of the earth or something. You watched her as she sprawled over her bed, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“One minute, I swear he can’t stand you and then the next it’s like he’s too into what you’re up to.”

You frowned at that, this being news to you, and Sarah seemed to realize what she said. She sighed, pushing herself onto her stomach, and your eyes met hers.

“Rafe doesn’t like me…?”

You weren’t surprised by how much it hurt to hear. Rafe was your best friend’s brother, after all, and while you two weren’t friends, you’d never been anything but nice to him. You always tried to offer him things and ask how he was and smile at him whenever you saw him.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” she confessed, throwing you a sympathetic glance. “He just doesn’t think the best of you.”

You deflated some, frowning as you tried to remember if he’d ever said anything to you that you missed.

“It’s why I hate when he comes around when you’re around. He’s always being an asshole, but don’t take it too personal, okay? He’s an asshole to almost everyone.”

You’d heard that before, but still. You’d never done anything to Rafe, and hearing this made you a little sad because Sarah didn’t even say why he didn’t like you. You sat there, feeling stumped and second guessing everything. Rafe said funny things sometimes at how much pink you wore, or he’d shake his head when some jokes had to be explained to you, and he certainly seemed to get annoyed when he came downstairs to find you bending over in the fridge.

Sarah had assured you though that Rafe was just like that.

When you found yourself at another party, you did your best to stay out of his way. You didn’t want to upset him anymore than you already had, even though you didn’t know how you’d done it. You were with one of Topper’s friends that you’d seen in passing, giggling and struggling to stand with every second that passed. As you finished the last of your drink, he quickly poured you some more, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from burping.

“Sarah’s going to have to carry me home,” you told him, your words coming out more jumbled together than you’d intended.

He laughed at you, an arm snaking around your waist to help you stand. You eyed his dark hair, smiling at how it contrasted with his light eyes.

“I can take you home whenever you’re ready,” he offered, and you felt yourself perk up.

“Really? Oh my God, thank you,” you sighed out. “I always feel so bad when Sarah has to look out for me.”

His pink lips pulled into a smile, and you returned it. It felt like his hand on your waist was the only thing keeping you up, and you leaned into him, feeling beyond grateful.

“You should probably finish your drink before we go though,” he suggested, and you nodded.

He was so nice to get you another, and you didn’t want it to go to waste. He helped you put one foot in front of the other as he led you across the beach and in between the bodies. You stumbled a few times, and you thanked him each time he kept you from falling flat on your face. You asked him how he knew Topper, and when he told you they went to school together, you smacked your forehead.

Almost everyone here went to what some people dubbed as Kook Academy.

“Duh,” you giggled, shaking your head.

You were just about to ask him which car was his when you were ripped away from him. Your eyes widened in shock, and you dropped what was left of your drink as you tripped over your feet. It took you a moment to realize what was going on, and when you glanced up, you smiled at the sight of Rafe. You’d been trying to avoid him for his sake, but you were always happy to see the blond.

“Hi, Rafe!”

He wasn’t looking at you, one hand on your arm and the other pushing against the chest of your new friend. You frowned in confusion as you took in the scene, realizing they didn’t look so friendly, and you noted this was the first time you’d seen Rafe really mad before.

“What the hell, bro?”

You watched Rafe shove him away, the other guy almost falling back.

“Are you crazy? You don’t think I know what you’re trying to do?”

You looked between them, and Rafe didn’t wait around for Topper’s friend to straighten himself up. You had no choice but to follow as he dragged you away, and his fast pace made your head spin even more. You asked him to slow down, but he ignored you, and you could feel your stomach turning. When he made it to the familiar black truck, he practically pushed you inside when he opened the passenger door, and with his hands on the vehicle, he had you trapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, his voice harsher than usual, and your brows knitted together. “Are you that stupid?”

You blinked at him, lips parting, and at that, Rafe slammed the door shut with a shake of his head. You stared at it for a few seconds, only sitting back and slowly putting on your seatbelt as he slid into the driver’s seat. The ride to your house was quiet, and you were reminded of what Sarah had told you. Why didn’t Rafe like you? What had you done now?

He was just as quiet when he made it to your house, and you noticed that your parents weren’t home. You struggled to get your door open, but it didn’t matter much when Rafe was suddenly there, yanking it open…and yanking you out too.

“Ow!”

He didn’t care to be careful, forcing you towards your door, and he snatched your purse before you could. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering at the cool ocean breeze as you stood in your dress, the flowy skirt of it kissing your thighs. When Rafe finally got the door open, he all but shoved you inside, and this time, you did fall.

You whimpered in pain, sitting up to take off your shoes, rubbing your foot just as he slammed your door closed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he repeated, slower this time as he brought his hands up. “Huh?”

You were drunk and confused, blinking and desperately trying to understand why Rafe was so mad. You’d done your best to avoid him all night—these past few weeks, actually. You didn’t like making anyone mad, especially Rafe considering his relation to Sarah.

“You realize he was going to hurt you, right…?”

You laughed at that, throwing Rafe a frown.

“What? Topper’s friend? No, he-.”

“He what? He plowed you with alcohol—maybe a few drugs—and was just so eager to take you home?”

You hesitated, a frown forming.

“I mean…we were drinking just like everyone else was, and I feel bad when Sarah has to take me home,” you said, much quieter now.

Rafe let out a laugh at that, and you finally decided to try and push yourself to your feet. You stumbled when Rafe neared you, so close, and your eyes widened. Rafe was so close you could feel his body heat, and he gestured to you with both hands as he leaned in.

“He was going to rape you. Do you get that?”

You flinched, chest tightening as you shook your head.

“No, he wouldn’t do that…”

“…and how do you know? You just met him, tonight,” Rafe spat. “You don’t know shit about him!”

You blinked, and you could feel your eyes burning because Rafe was so mad, and you didn’t understand why. Topper’s friend had been nice to you all night, looking after you and getting you drinks and keeping you company. You had the hardest time believing Rafe’s words, and you shook your head.

“He was being nice,” you argued, but Rafe’s anger and harsh words had you doubting that, now.

“…because he wanted to fuck you, you-.”

He cut himself off, heavily exhaling, and he glanced away. You watched him as his eyes fell closed, a bitter chuckle escaping as he shook his head.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?”

You almost didn’t hear him, and when he turned his cold gaze back to you, you swallowed.

“Are you really that stupid?” he quietly wondered, tapping his temples. “Huh?”

You pressed your lips together, the sound of your heartbeat loud in your ears.

“I’m stretching myself thin here just to make sure all those guys you think are your friends don’t have you lying down in their backseat somewhere…”

“Rafe.”

“…but like the dumb broad that you are, you think they’re being nice and friendly and that they actually care about you outside of what’s under your tiny little dress!”

You looked away.

“Every day I find myself wondering how the fuck did you even graduate? How did you even make it this far on your own?”

You struggled to swallow, your gaze finding the floor.

His words had you shifting on your feet, heart sinking at the familiarity of them. You were never the smartest, you knew that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried in school, tried to understand things that came so naturally to other people. You remembered your tutors getting so fed up and frustrated, leaning against the hall and listening as they told your mom they didn’t see how you’d ever pass. You remembered enlisting classmates for help before they too gave up and just took pity on you by doing your work for you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” they would tell you with soft smiles. “You really tried, and that’s what really matters.”

You looked up when Rafe huffed again, tears in your eyes. You had no idea that Rafe thought those things too, and you reached up to wipe your eyes.

“I mean, you’re always parading around in this crap that barely covers your ass,” he sneered, gesturing to your dress. “Always smiling and giggling at everyone.”

You sniffed.

“None of those guys are ever laughing with you, they’re laughing at you.”

“Why are you saying this to me?” you whispered.

“…because someone needs to,” he threw back. “…because you’re too fucking dumb to look out for yourself.”

Rafe neared you, reaching out and clutching your dress, yanking you closer.

“Do you know what that guy would’ve done? Hmm?”

You shuddered when his other hand came up to clasp the back of your neck.

“He would’ve gotten you in his backseat, probably wouldn’t have even waited to get you home…”

“Stop,” you pleaded.

“He wouldn’t have listened to a single word you said, too busy trying to get your legs open and his pants off.”

His hold tightened, and you winced, a few tears skipping down your face as he walked forward. He forced you to stumble back.

“He would’ve fucked you even more stupid and-.”

He cut himself off as you hit his chest, lips trembling and desperately trying to keep yourself from crying. You couldn’t stop, and Rafe huffed, rubbing his hands over his head as he let you go. Rafe’s chest was heaving, and when his eyes met yours again, you couldn’t hold his gaze for long.

“You’re so pitiful, you know that?” he murmured, coming near you again. “Every time you open that mouth to say something stupid, I just want to shove my cock in it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, stumbling back when he gripped your roots, scalp stinging.

“…but that’s all you’ll be good for, huh,” he mused, his other hand circling your chin. “To be split open and filled up.”

You reached up, grabbing his wrist, but Rafe didn’t care, leaning in and nipping at your cheek.

“…and if it’s going to be someone, it might as well be me, right?” he breathed, brushing his lips over your trembling ones. “Those other assholes on this island don’t look out for you like I do.”

Rafe wasn’t giving you time to think, and before you could stop him, his mouth covered yours. Rafe deeply inhaled, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, hand roaming over you, completely ignoring your own as you tried to stop him. He roughly pulled at your dress, and you heard the fabric rip, a noise of protest leaving you.

You thought that Rafe didn’t like you.

It was what Sarah said, and Rafe himself had called you dumb and stupid and every other thing you’d tried to pretend you weren’t. You didn’t always pick up on things, but would Topper’s friend really have hurt you? Rafe was smarter than you, so he would know, right? He’d seemed so sure of it, but as his hands squeezed your frame, you recalled his words.

Wasn’t Rafe doing the same thing?

You gasped when his teeth sank into your neck, and all your breath left you when your back met the floor. You mumbled his name, but Rafe didn’t seem to hear you, yanking your panties down your legs, his own pants partially undone. When his fingers found a home between your legs, you whimpered, jerking at the feel of them sinking into you. He groaned at the feel, and your nails pressed into his arm.

You felt like your brain was short-circuiting, eyes rolling as he thrust them into you, massaging your walls. Rafe hovered over you, his nose brushing yours, and your hands reached out to scrape at the carpet. Your chest arched when Rafe curved them, and he kissed you again, a deep moan leaving him as you clenched around him.

“Rafe, stop-.”

Your words were abruptly cut off when he pressed on your stomach, holding you down, and you trembled, body buzzing. When he pulled them out of you, you felt disappointment, no time to linger on it as the head of him pressed to you. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, and your stomach arched against his firm hand. Your mouth fell open at the stretch, toes curling, and Rafe made a shushing sound.

“You can take it,” he murmured. “Open your legs.”

He rested in between them on his knees, and his free hand was on your thigh, parting them further. A high pitched sigh left you as he filled you to the hilt, fitting snuggly and holding himself inside of you. The turn the night had taken made your head spin, along with the alcohol, and you threw your head back when Rafe’s hand traveled from your stomach, thumb pressing against you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard him groan. “Dripping around me.”

He started to move, pulling out before swiftly pushing his cock back into you, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“This is all you needed, huh? Someone to fuck your dumb little brains out.”

Your lashes fluttered, and Rafe was blurry through your tears, but as you blinked, he cleared up. He leaned in to press kisses to your face, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the living room. You couldn’t focus on much besides Rafe’s cock in you, hands tight on you and holding you in place so he could fuck you like he wanted.

“You know how many times I wanted to bend you over? Wanted to stuff you full of my cock just so you’d shut up?”

You whimpered, hands grasping at his back and arms as he leaned over. His forehead was pressed to yours, one of your knees completely pushed back as he drove himself into you. He was hitting something in you that had your breath hitching with every thrust, and the earlier events of the night were in the very back of your mind.

When he sat up, pushing both of your knees towards your chest, you cried out. You could see his eyes focused on where he disappeared into you, sliding into you and watching the way you dripped around him. You could feel yourself squeezing him, greedily trying to suck him back in, and Rafe chuckled.

“Nothing to say? Too busy taking my cock?”

When you didn’t say anything, he laughed again.

“Hmm?”

You could only bite your lip, chest heaving, and when you looked up, Rafe’s gaze was on your breasts.

“Touch yourself,” he told you, satisfied when you did. “Make them hard for me.”

You were a moaning mess, a fire in your core as Rafe rutted into you. You could hear it, hear the wet sound of you squeezing him and every dip of Rafe’s cock. You softly moaned his name, and Rafe asked you to do it again. Feeling drunk in more ways than one, you did, gasping when he spread your legs again. His arms hooked under your knees, his chest brushing yours, now, and Rafe pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

“Any of those assholes even look at you for more than two seconds, and I’m showing them who you belong to,” he promised.

You could feel your stomach tightening, walls fluttering around him, and you could only lay down and take Rafe’s unrelenting cock.

“This pussy is mine, now,” he breathed. “No more leaving the house like you do without me.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, breath hitching. “I’m going to…”

You trailed off, losing your breath, and Rafe kissed the corner of your mouth.

“You’re gonna come? Yeah?”

You nodded, lips parted.

“So, I should probably keep going, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“What if I just stopped?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“No,” you desperately argued. “Please-.”

“You wanna come?”

“Yes…please,” you moaned.

You could feel his eyes on your face as he lifted his head.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “So hungry for my cock. Can’t even keep your eyes open.”

You didn’t have the mind to argue with him, squeezing him and loving the way he stretched you out.

“This is right where you belong. Spread open and desperate for me,” he hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “My dumb baby girl, only good for milking me dry.”

He continued when all you could do was whimper.

“Isn’t that right?”

At your silence, Rafe stopped, only the tip of him remaining. You tried to lift your hips, fucking yourself onto him, but from this position, with his arms keeping your knees bent back, you couldn’t. You whined, tears kissing your eyes as your chest heaved against his. You frantically nodded, another whiny moan escaping.

“Yes,” you breathlessly gave in. “Yes, yes.”

Rafe snapped his hips against yours again, smoothly thrusting into you, and you came around him with a cry. You couldn’t keep quiet, gasping and moaning as Rafe fucked you through your high. He held you in place, body trembling underneath him, and Rafe groaned when he started coming too, spilling into you. A light sheen of sweat coated both your frames, and you shuddered when he pulled out of you.

You felt completely worn out as he crawled over you, and his hand circled your chin, lifting it. The head of him pushed past your lips, and he groaned when he softly told you to clean him up. His eyes met yours as you looked up at him, lips wrapped around him as he reached down to brush the dampness from your cheek.

“Do a good job, and I might clean you up too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #obx #obx fic #obx imagine #Outer Banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”

“I’m bored.”

“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”

Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.

“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.

“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.

“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.

Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”

But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.

Hmm.

“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.

“He’s dead,” Max points out.

Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.

“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”

“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.

“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”

“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.

Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”

Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”

“How about I stick my flair right up your—”

“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”

Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.

“Fire away, Munson.”

“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”

Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”

Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.

“What?”

“The affair shift.”

“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”

“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”

“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”

Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.

“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.

Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”

And they’re off.

It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.

And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.

“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”

The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”

And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.

Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.

They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.

“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”

“Thought what?”

Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.

Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.

Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.

Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.

Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…

Well, so what?

Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.

They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.

#oh missing scenes how i love you ❤️#steddie #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve and the party #steve and dustin #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #let steve be silly and have fun agenda <3 #steve and robin

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greg-montgomery · 1 year

Note

Friends to lovers with hotch. Bau!Reader has been pining forever but is deciding to move in after seeing Aaron and Beth be with each other. New guy also happens to be a single dad with a boy in jacks grade. Jack is not happy about another boy stealing his mom figure yk? Father son duo working together to get the girl.

Tbh idc what you write coz its always good. And im a sucker for jealous hotch ALWAYS

okay can i just say that when i saw this ask i got obsessed with the concept immediately!!! like that’s so cute???? also while writing this i was thinking “jack is such a little sweetie he wouldn’t have an attitude” but then i thought of this tiktok and remembered he can actually be salty af <33 LMFAOO

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Jack hadn’t spoken a word the entire ride from school. Aaron was used to his bubbly sweet voice filling the car, telling him all about his day; so the silence was deafening.

“Nothing,” he replied, dropping his small bag on the floor and running to his room.

The truth was, Jack had been pretty moody lately and it was all because of you. Well, it wasn’t your fault of course, but it was your absence that had Jack throwing tantrums in a way he never used to before.

As Aaron’s best friend, your presence in his house, in his home, was a constant. Movies, dinners, board game nights…Jack had grown used to you. And he absolutely adored you.

When Beth came into Aaron’s life, though, things started to change. You were pulling away from him, from them. At first, Aaron thought that maybe you were jealous; and if that was true, he would drop Beth in a heartbeat and run into your arms. After all, she was only a distraction to him in order to get over you.

All those dreams of him were shuttered one day, when he had called to ask you if you’d join him and Jack for a movie night, only to be told you had a date: a date with the dad of one of Jack’s classmates. You told him the two of you met when you went to pick up Jack from school one day, and Aaron cursed the moment he had asked for your help. If he knew the dads there would be all over you, he wouldn’t have let you set foot into that damned school in the first place.

“Jack?” Aaron said, knocking on his door.

“Go away!”

“Jack, please talk to me. I want to help.”

There was a long pause before Jack finally opened the door and let his dad in.

“What did you do to her?” he asked with tears in his eyes.

“Buddy, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N. Why isn’t she your friend anymore?” Jack looked incredibly sad and it broke Aaron’s heart.

“We’re still friends,” he answered, softly. “What makes you think we’re not?”

“She’s never here anymore.”

“I know,” Aaron said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not our friend anymore. We’ve just both been busier than usual.” He wasn’t technically lying, but he still felt bad.

“Why couldn’t you get together like they do in the movies?” Jack raised his voice. “Now she’s with Charlie’s dad. And she packs Charlie lunch and makes him sandwiches that look like dinosaurs like she used to do with me! It’s not fair, she was ours first!”

Well, that explained why he was so mad after school today.

Aaron couldn’t find any words to say, and how could he when he was just as jealous as his son? Jack was right; you were theirs first. And they’d win you back.

“And dad told me we’ll go get ice cream later with Y/N!” Charlie exclaimed, but Jack did not share his enthusiasm.

“Okay,” Jack answered, rolling his eyes.

“And maybe we’ll go to the movies after. She said she loves watching cartoons! She doesn’t think they’re boring like all grown ups,” the kid continued, not realizing he was making Jack upset.

“I know, we watch cartoons all the time together,” he replied.

Right next to them, their fathers had a separate conversation, but very much similar to theirs.

“The kid loves her already,” Charlie’s dad, Nick, said, watching you from afar. They were all waiting for you to finish your little chat with that teacher friend of yours, so they’d finally leave the school building.

“And how can he not, I mean she’s so great,” he added.

“She is,” Aaron agreed, though gritted teeth.

“I’ll take them for ice cream now so they can bond a little more. This girl loves ice cream.”

“Yeah, I know.” Who did that guy think he was? Thinking that any detail about you would be news to Aaron. Of course he knew you loved ice cream. He knew you better than anyone. Anyone.

“Sorry!” you said, walking fast towards their little group. “I hadn’t seen my friend in a while.”

“That’s alright.”

“It’s okay.”

Aaron and Nick talked at the same time, which ended in them sending annoyed glances to each other.

“Well, we better get going then,” you said with a smile.

As all of you walked out of the building, Aaron heard you telling something to Nick and Charlie. “Can you wait for me in the car? I’ll be back in a minute!”

To Aaron’s surprise you approached his car with one eyebrow raised. Oh no, you were mad.

“Y/N,” he said, but you cut him off.

“Why are the two of you being mean to Nick and his son?”

“We’re not mean to them,” Aaron said, but Jack’s voice was louder. “Because we hate them!” he said.

“Jack.”

“What? It’s true. You said that Mr. Nick is ugly and a jerk!”

“Jack, language!” his dad scolded him.

You turned your gaze to Aaron. “Is this true?”

He sighed, in defeat. “Jack, can you please get in the car? I want to speak with Y/N.”

“Fine,” he said, and followed his dad’s request.

“So?” you said when you were finally alone.

“So…I may have said some things about Nick.”

“Why?” your soft voice asked.

“Because, I can’t stand the thought of him with you. God, Y/N, I can’t do this anymore. I want you. I want you to be mine. I wanna be the one who takes you for ice cream and the one who brags about you to the other dads.”

“Aaron…”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way-”

“Of course, I feel the same way, you idiot,” you said. “But then Beth showed up and I thought it was one sided!”

“Beth’s in the past.”

“She is?”

“Yes. She didn’t mean anything to me. It’s always been you,” Aaron admitted.

“Wow…” you said, placing your palm on your forehead.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I have two people waiting for me in the car right now. And I don’t want to just blow them off.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll talk to Nick tonight. I promise,” you said, touching his hand. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Aaron smiled.

“She touched your hand,” Jack said with a smirk when his dad got back in the car.

Aaron stared at him through the rearview mirror with furrowed eyebrows, but Jack could read him very easily. So he just giggled.

“Ew!” Jack yelled, his face forming a disgusted expression at the sight of you and Aaron kissing.

“Hey, you got your wish!” Aaron told him. “You should be grateful.”

“You know what I think?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“That our little Jack is jealous because he’s not getting any kisses.”

“No!” he giggled, as you and Aaron chased him, ready to cover his chubby cheeks with sweet kisses.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #hotch 🪐#ask

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solarmorrigan · 1 year

Text

It’s impossible to sneak up on Steve

Like, actually impossible

Dude has eyes in the back of his head. It’s some kind of mom superpower. (Or maybe it’s just the hypervigilance. Whatever)

Eddie first notices because the kids try to sneak past him a couple of times and he always catches them

He even calls them out by name. And he’s always right

Every single time

He catches Henderson trying to get a snack before they’re about to eat (not that Henderson particularly cares he’s been caught; he eats his chips without remorse)

He catches Small Wheeler trying to smuggle an R-rated movie over the Buckley’s side of the counter while Steve’s back is turned (not that Buckley would’ve rented it to him)

He catches Red and Supergirl both sneaking junk food into the cart while they’re out grocery shopping (neither of them are repentant, and Steve rolls his eyes but does exactly nothing about it)

Eddie’s interest is piqued

The first time he tries sneaking up on Steve, Steve catches him before he gets within three feet

How

“You jingle when you walk, Eddie.”

Okay, yeah, that’s fair

Next time, Eddie takes off his wallet chain and all his jewelry

Steve still catches him before he gets close enough to reach out and touch

“Your shoes squeak.”

Eddie’s pretty sure they don’t, actually, but fine. The shoes are next to go

And Steve still fucking catches him. Eddie can hear the goddamn smile in his voice as he says “Hi, Eddie,” just as Eddie is reaching out to grab his waist

“I could smell your shampoo.”

He could smell Eddie’s shampoo?

His fucking shampoo??

Alright, no, actually, that’s kind of sweet. But Eddie can’t exactly stop using shampoo, because then Steve will probably just be able to smell his hair grease or something. Eddie has to get creative, but he makes sure he’s not downwind of the AC vent next time

Yet Steve is the one who manages to ambush Eddie while Eddie is ambushing Steve, turning around and pulling Eddie right into him before Eddie can pounce, kissing him hard and quick, asking if that’s what Eddie was going for when he pulls away

Half dazed, half aroused, entirely frustrated, Eddie demands to know how the fuck Steve caught him this time, and Steve shrugs

“It just... feels different, when there’s someone behind you. The air, maybe? I dunno.”

Is this man even human?

(Given the general state of... everything, Eddie feels this is a legitimate question)

But Eddie isn’t one to give up once he becomes fixated, so he bides his time

He waits

And he waits

And he waits, until it seems like Steve is engaged in something distracting enough that he’s not going to be paying attention to how the room behind him feels, or however the fuck that works, and takes his shot

AND HE SUCCEEDS

He has to promise never to do it again, because his ribs are now bruised from Steve’s very surprised elbow, and Steve is mad and handing him and ice pack and bitching at him at full volume, but y’know what?

Fucking worth it

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #alright look yes eddie and steve formally met SPECIFICALLY by eddie getting the drop on steve #but arguably steve was already pretty well convinced someone was in the room with them and was the one checking hiding places #and then got distracted when everyone else thought he was being paranoid #so y'know what I stand by this #also I had the idea and I just thought it was funny so I wrote it #solar wrote #long post

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lisired · 1 month

Text

where angels fear to tread

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: fwb to lovers, fluff, implied smut, angst

summary: Three years ago, you had a summer fling with Jung Jaehyun, and what was simply sex turned into more after you caught feelings for him. Then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and decide to call it quits. Three years later, he's back in town, trying to come back in your life, and most importantly trying to come back into your heart, but you're a little hesitant to let him.

word count: 14.5k

a/n: i think this was my first jaehyun fic? LOL… as always, feedback is appreciated!

“Not fair.”

“It’s very much fair, Jaemin.”

“How come the blueberry head gives you shit on the house? I asked him for a free coffee and he told me the only way I was getting coffee for free was if he splashed it on my face. Very unprofessional. I demand the manager.”

You want to tell him that the manager would just suck up to Taeyong in private because the customer is always wrong, but something in you tells you to be quiet.

“Saved his life,” you shrug, digging a fork into your pie.

“Saved his life?” Jaemin repeats, wide-eyed, “you just said that like it was the most normal thing ever.”

“I don’t think he would have actually died,” you mutter, but decide to tell the tale anyway, “You remember when I told you I was taking a two-week vacation out of town because Yeri invited me and some of her friends to her stepdad’s beach house?” Jaemin nods, “Well Taeyong was one of those friends. Saved him from drowning in the pool, and ever since he thinks he owes me his life, so he gives me a lifetime worth of stuff on the house.”

You consider Jaemin your best friend, although him not physically being with you for the past two years was the reason why he’s unaware of some minor details of your life during those years. Of course, he knew about the vacation—you had so much fun that you told him nearly every damn detail of it—but there was still some things you kept to yourself. Such as how you saved Taeyong from drowning. You thought that you’d look like a praise-seeker for bringing that up anyway.

You scan the room for Taeyong (the blueberry head) and once your eyes find him, you wave and wink. He waves back and smiles bashfully, before tending to one of his customers. You also think that Taeyong might have a little crush on you, but that’s not relevant at the moment.

“Oh wow. I guess not all heroes wear capes. Some heroes wear pie crumbs on their mouths.”

You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin then squeeze it into a ball to throw at Jaemin, making him gasp dramatically and start rambling about how you shouldn’t treat the best friend you haven’t seen in two years like this, but the chime of the cafe door distracts you. Your face falls in horror, and you’re still as a statue as it all races back. The pain, the memories, the emotions, everything you gave him that you can’t take back.

“I have to go,” you say, but Jaemin grabs your wrist.

His voice is filled to the brim with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Where you do even start? You sigh, ducking your head on the table in an attempt to cover your face the best that you can. The past is intertwining with the present and you do not enjoy it one bit. Fortunately, he sits away from you and doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence in the room, but it’s just your luck that for the first time you’re seeing him in almost two years, he chooses to show up right here, right now.

“See that guy that just walked in?”

Jaemin nods with reluctance, subtly scanning said guy with his eyes, “Yeah, what about him?”

With a deep breath, you brace yourself for uncovering a part of your past that you’d rather keep ancient history, “Remember that fling I told you about from the vacation? That was him. And I never told you this, but we didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. I called it quits when I found out that he had a girlfriend.”

Another one of the vay-cay details that you kept to yourself. Technically, you did tell him about the fling, but it was nothing too specific aside from the fact that you were getting dicked down. You never told him about the way things abruptly ended, and you sure as hell never told him that you caught feelings for a cheater.

Jaemin’s face falls, and you’re not sure why. You think that he’s offended because you never told him about something so huge (and he is, but the two of you have bigger fish to fry at the moment so he decides it best to complain later).

Eyebrows furrowed, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Jaehyun is…” he pauses, and your lips part to ask how he knows his name until, “Jaehyun is my roommate.”

If you had the energy, you would sigh. Of course, Jaehyun also happens to move back in town and ultimately transfer back into your college for the second semester. You had to be a criminal in your past life, what else could you have possibly done to deserve something like this?

Taeyong walks over to your table, wearing a discontent frown, “Jaehyun’s here, do you want me to distract him so that you can leave without him noticing?”

“No way the blueberry head knew about this before me.” Ah, there it goes.

Taeyong glares, but he doesn’t say anything, instead locking his eyes on you to catch your response and his face softens when he does.

“Please,” you sigh in relief, “Thanks Tae, you’re a lifesaver.”

Taeyong smiles at the weight of your words, “It’s the least I could do. Now you two get out of here.”

It isn’t something that you need to be told twice, Taeyong goes to distract Jaehyun and you two bolt the fuck out of there. Though even out of sight, Jaehyun isn’t out of mind. In the beginning you knew it was nothing serious, Jaehyun had other girls that he fucked. But the fact that he was cheating on some poor, innocent girl was more then you could handle, and it would be selfish of you to risk getting caught up in that mess.

For a while, you and Jaemin ride in near silence. It’s your car, but he claims you aren’t in the right headspace to drive and you didn’t argue. You don’t feel the best at the moment.

“Is this a bad time to invite you to my roommate’s Summer Break Kick-off party this Friday,” Jaemin asks over the radio, his voice cutting through the SHINee song playing lowly.

“Kinda,” you snort. “Is he coming?”

“Probably, yeah. I mean, he was invited. But my roommate’s other house is pretty big it’s been forever since we last partied.”

You blink. Why does your roommate…

“Don’t question it. I don’t know either.”

You fight the urge to laugh. Instead, you weigh out the pros and cons. Technically, you and Jaemin could always find another place to party if you wanted to so bad, and even if the house was big, there’s still a fair chance of you running into the one man you dread ever seeing again. You aren’t too sure if that’s something that you’re ready to risk right now.

You sigh again, pressing your face against the car window. “I’ll think about it.”

You haven’t stepped foot in a place this expensive-looking since Yeri invited you on that little summer vacation to her stepdad’s beach house (two years ago.)

Jaemin somehow managed to convince you to show up by pinky promising to do a week’s worth of your assignments next semester, and you’d be a fool for turning that offer down. It isn’t clear from the outside, but academically Jaemin is sharp. So now, you’re searching for Jaemin in a sea full of red plastic cups. He was right, the house is humongous, and now you’re really beginning to question why someone with this kind of fortune at their fingertips lives with three presumably broke college students.

At least they’re playing SHINee. That way you can sing along to your favorite boy band while you simultaneously search for your best friend.

It might be harder for him to spot you. You chose to wear something dull, deciding against standing out too much just in case Jaehyun wanted confrontation, so looking for you is like searching for a needle in a haystack. You two could have just spent the night karaoking with Jaemin in your living room just like the good ‘ole days, for heavens sake.

Na Jaemin, when I find you, you groan. He doesn’t answer your calls or texts, and just for this you should make him do your homework for two weeks. Three if you bump into Jaehyun. You stop at an empty spot to catch your breath.

“God, what are these guys’ parents? The CEO’s of Samsung?” you mutter, to yourself.

“Aw, so close.”

Not expecting an actual answer, you jump and turn in the direction of the voice. You find a tall, handsome man smiling at you. His teeth are so white that it looks like he eats Colgate for breakfast.

“Kai, I’m the host of the party,” he grins, yet then his expression falters, “do I know you from somewhere?”

“I was thinking the same thing!” You laugh, analyzing his face. He does look a bit familiar.

You tell him your name, and the way he repeats it once more then blinks a few times concerns you a little. It’s not that you have a bad reputation, but did he know you from something bad?

His eyes widen. “You’re Johnny’s ex-girlfriend.”

That, you are. Back in high school you and Johnny dated for some time, broke up after a while since you drifted apart from one another, but agreed to stay friends so you’re both cool. You’re relieved that’s all, but you still don’t remember where you know Kai from, and you’re almost one-hundred percent sure it isn’t high school. You don’t even think you went two to the same high school.

“That’s me,” you confirm with a nod, “I still don’t know where I remember you from, though.”

If this were a cartoon, Kai would have a thought bubble above his head, and moments later it would transform into a lightbulb, “Are you friend’s with Yeri?” he guesses, and you nod, “she’s my step-sister. She probably told you about me.”

Oh. Well now the dots are connecting. Yeri did in fact tell you about him, mentioning that his family is the one her mom married into when explaining how filthily rich she became—because her brand new step-dad is indeed a CEO.

You make an O with your mouth, “Small world.”

“I know, right?” Kai, or as you know him from Yeri (also why you didn’t recognize him immediately), Jongin, laughs, “Care to dance?”

At that, you frown, “I’d love to, but I should really find Jaemin. He’s my best friend and we’re supposed to be spending time together because he just moved back in town recently.”

Kai looks a little sad by the rejection but handles it well, nodding in understanding, “Good luck. Last time I saw him he was over there,” he points, “losing a drinking game.”

That could mean nothing good. That meant wherever he was, Jaemin was more than likely going to be shitfaced by the end of the night. You sigh internally, almost wishing he’d go back to being the shy and introverted boy you knew in high school.

You met Jaemin in your sophomore year, at a party his friends forced him to go to, and you had a couple of mutual friends, but until then you two were nothing more than strangers. Speaking of which, that’s how you bonded, even though it was a fight getting him to say more than five words at a time. You were sure your friends Sicheng and Yuta had a thing for each other, whereas he hadn’t suspected a thing. So you made a bet, and only a couple minutes later, they were found making out against a wall. He owed you 50 bucks.

When Jaemin is still no where to be find, you’re ready to cave in to defeat. You feel like you’re in a maze, walking around in circles and it shows in the ache in your feet. You’re about to give up and turn around, until you walk into something, or someone, and all audible to you is the sound of splashing before someone yells shit, I’m sorry!

Oh, you’ll make sure they’re sorry. You’re not sure what you should focus on. How your top is now soaked, or how familiar their voice is. Until you look back up and see a walking, breathing and unfortunately talking, nightmare.

He calls out your name.

Like before, you turn and walk away.

He says it again, louder, and follows you.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Jaehyun.”

Still, he tails behind you like a lost puppy, despite you obviously trying to stay far, far away, “Can’t you hear me out? It’s been two years.”

“Two very peaceful years,” you stop dead in your tracks and finally turn to face him. It hurts you to look at his face, because the memories wash over you like waves, yet you do it anyways. You want to show him that you’re strong without him, not weakness and vulnerability, “and I told you two years ago that I want nothing to do with you.”

Jaehyun’s no good for you, you know that. You know that all he’s ever wanted to do is get inside your pants, that he’s never cared for you. So why are you tempted to hear him out?

No, you refuse, you will not let nostalgia win you over. That’s all it is. You miss what you had, but you don’t know if you miss him as a person.

“At least let me help you dry your shirt, it’s my fault that it’s ruined,” he tries again, but you’re hell-bent on making him feel as miserable as he did you.

“No.”

“Y/n—”

“No means no, Jaehyun,” another voice cuts in, and while it isn’t the one you’ve been looking for, you’re thankful nonetheless. Beside you stands Kai, tall, angry, and intimidating, “you gonna make her tell you to fuck off?”

Jaehyun glances at you, and you see the emotion in his eyes, but you don’t fall for them. Not anymore. He’s already caused your heart to feel enough pain that you can’t bother to try and carry the burden that is his own. So he gives up and walks off, finally leaving you alone.

And you let out an exhausted breath.

“Show’s over, mind your business,” Kai tells the audience you hadn’t even known formed, and not willing to risk going against him, everyone returns to their previous activity. He looks at you, and all the anger is washed with concern. “You okay?”

Are you okay? You don’t know anymore. Nostalgia is kicking your ass, and though you try not to think about him, you can’t help but reminisce.

“Yeah,” you say, but you’re not too sure. “Thanks. A lot.”

Kai shrugs, “No biggie. Do you think you and Yeri match sizes? You can use the bathroom in my bedroom to change because no one’s dumb enough to go in there.”

You sigh in relief. Chivalry isn’t dead. “Yes. Thank you.”

Kai leads you upstairs to Yeri’s room, or at least the one she stays in when she’s here, and let’s you choose a shirt. It isn’t an easy decision with Yeri being the epitome of fashion, but you pick quickly to spare Kai’s time, even though he tells you that he doesn’t mind. He then takes you to the bathroom in his room because according to him, Yeri’s one is under repair.

Even though Kai is guarding the door with his life and you know he wouldn’t just barge in there without your say-so, you lock the door. You meet your gaze in the mirror, eyeing yourself closely. Everyone is insecure sometimes, but after things ended between you and Jaehyun, you were extremely self-conscious for months.

To anyone who had never been in your shoes, it might’ve made more sense than anything for you to feel better about yourself knowing that even though Jaehyun had a girl, he kept coming back to you. Yet who’s to say you were the only one? To this day, you’re still convinced that the only reason he keeps trying to win you back is because him losing you plus you being the one to end it put a major dent in his ego.

You hate that he had that kind of power over you, to the point where he made you hate yourself. You hate that a man like him made you cry so many goddamn tears and now he expects you to dry his own.

Reminding yourself that Kai is waiting, you tear your gaze from your own before tears have the chance to spill, and wipe yourself dry so that you can put on your - or Yeri’s - shirt. Now that you think about it, it’s too cute to return. You might take it. She’s too rich to notice, and even if she does, she’s still rich. She can easily replace it.

Kai greets you with a smile as you step back inside his room, and you find yourself smiling back at him. He’s been treating you so kindly this whole time, and now that you think about it, you’ve never heard a single bad thing about the man. Yeri clearly doesn’t mention him very often, but it’s never been anything bad when she does, and even when Jaemin was telling you about his roommates, he described Kai as “the funny one that called his mom a lot.”

“Ready to join the party?”

And then you frown. “I don’t know.”

Kai quirks a brow, “Well don’t tell me you look this good just to not show yourself off.”

Amused, you scoff. Kai’s been smooth from the beginning, yet now he’s unabashedly flirting with you. “Are you flirting with me, Kim Jongin?”

Confusion spells itself out on his face. You have never once said his name tonight, and the one time you do, it’s his government. “How do you know my name?”

“Yeri,” you shrug, “but if you want me to just call you Kai then I understand.”

“Well, usually I reserve my real name for my close friends and family,” he grins, and God he looks devilishly handsome when he does, “but it sounds so nice on your tongue that I’ll make an exception.”

It’s painfully obvious that you don’t know how to react, eyes a little round and your lips parting, yet nothing coming from in between. It makes Jongin laugh.

“And yes, I was flirting with you,” he winks, “but anyways, if you really don’t wanna go back out there, which is totally fine, we can just chill in here. You seem like a nice person, and I’d like to get to know you.”

“Get to know me?” You quip, finding enough balance to play into his game after being knocked down by his charm briefly, “or my body?”

He arches a brow in amusement. “That feels like a trick question.”

You shrug. “Be honest. I might feel the same way.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that tonight didn’t go as planned. Kai’s had you since the moment he introduced himself, and it seems every five minutes he gets better.

“Well, I don’t see why I can’t multitask,” He purrs, taking your words as an invitation. An invitation that he was accepting.

You giggle. He eyes you gently, noticing the way you slowly inch closer to him, “I like you.”

It’s an initiation, turning the keys and putting the car in drive, and you want to see if Jongin will take the wheel. And it seems that to your fortune, he does.

“Guess it’s a good thing I like you, too.” Jongin chuckles, and he’s so close. You can feel his breath on your skin, tickling your neck, and it makes something in you crawl with arousal.

And the gap between you closes.

You already liked Kai last night, but you definitely like him this morning.

You woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and not just any kind of pancakes, but chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite. If anything can make you like someone, it’s chocolate chip pancakes.

“How’d you know chocolate chip was my fave?” you giggle, not expecting a serious response, but after the whole scenario with him yesterday, you should have already known he would have one.

“Yerim’s told me about you, too, you know,” Jongin replies, “It wasn’t even too long ago, it was winter break. We were all staying at my dad’s house for a couple of days, and she invited you over one morning. Everyone was gone but me and her when I went downstairs, and I saw her making chocolate chip pancakes. It blew me, because she’s an avid hater of chocolate. Then she told me they were for her best friend, because you love them, and after last night I learned that the best friend in question happened to be you.”

You and Jongin learned a lot about one another last evening. After you had sex, you didn’t expect to hit it off like you did, yet you spent a great deal of the night talking on his silk sheets. For starters, he’s a wonderful man. Funny, polite, respectful, thoughtful, caring, and he has an amazing personality. The sole flaw you could find in him was that he likes Hawaiian pizza. What kind of sick person enjoys Hawaiian pizza?

And you fell asleep in his arms. It was perfect, almost too good to be true. You considered the possibility of a relationship with him, you enjoyed his company and he was shameless to admit that he enjoyed yours. And yet still, you couldn’t help but think of Jaehyun.

The way he had also made you feel the same way, all those years ago. How he never fucked you and then shoved you away, but he talked to you until the sun came up, or spooned you to sleep. It was ridiculous, and you can’t believe that one encounter with Jaehyun had you acting like a teenager in love for the first time again. Not to mention the encounter in question was horrible. Jaehyun isn’t good for you, but for some reason your heart seems to still want him.

“If you want know so bad, just ask.”

“What?” Kai blinks, unaware that you’ve noticed the way he looks at you, not just now but ever since that encounter with Jaehyun. The longing in his eyes to say something, yet he resisted.

“I know you’re curious about me and Jaehyun,” truth be told, it isn’t just for him, but for you. Maybe if you remind yourself of what Jaehyun’s done to you, hear it aloud, you’ll snap out of it and shake this weird feeling. “So go ahead. Ask.”

Jongin’s surprised at how well you read him, and you can only hope that he doesn’t read you just as well.

“I figured you didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.” How utterly Kai of him. And honestly, he’s right. You don’t want to, but at this point it’s a need.

“It’s okay,” you assure.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s okay, you know. I understa—”

“Kim Jongin,” you say, and he pauses, a part of being because he still hasn’t gotten used to you calling him by his government name, yet he loves it when you do, “I am not about to beg you to ask me. I promise you, it’s alright.”

Jongin hesitates, but gives in reluctantly, “Okay, so… what happened for Jaehyun to be so intent on talking to you last night? Break-up?”

“Not really,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and flat. You weren’t the girl Jaehyun was in a relationship with, “It wasn’t a romantic relationship. Just sex, no strings attached.”

Jongin nods, “Ah, so a fling?”

“Mm-hm. I met him when Yeri invited her best friends to your dad’s beach house for a fun summer vacation during break. We hit it off well and it wasn’t much longer that he had me in his sheets. It really was fun, so we agreed to keep fucking around. And then some months later, I found out he had a girlfriend the whole time.”

He makes an understanding face, familiar with Yeri’s Pal-Cations (as she likes to call them.)

“Yerim didn’t tell you he was dating someone?”

“No one knew about us. He wanted to keep things secret,” you chuckle softly, “and that’s when I found out why.”

Silence falls over Jongin, and you sit there and let him ponder. Being able to say it all like this makes it seem so simple, and perhaps it should be. Jaehyun fucked up, and you owe him nothing. If he broke up with his girlfriend, maybe things would have been different, but he didn’t and that’s why he should leave you alone.

“Do you think he’s changed?” You shouldn’t ask. It doesn’t matter what Kai thinks, he doesn’t know Jaehyun like you do and he hasn’t known him for nearly as long. His opinion doesn’t matter.

Kai blinks. “I mean, you know what they say. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“But I’m asking for your opinion.”

You’ve never seen Kai so speechless. He’s always had something on the tip of his tongue, always. That’s when you consider that you’re probably dumping a shit ton of unwarranted info on him, especially since you had to practically coerce him into even asking you about Jaehyun. Before you have the chance to apologize, he answers.

“I don’t know him nearly as well as you probably do, but from what I’ve seen in the past 2 weeks, he’s nothing like some stupid, immature fuck boy. He carries himself well, cracks his jokes but he’s respectful and doesn’t push his limits, and I’ve never seen him with a girl,” Jongin says. “Come to think of it, he’s single. The boys discussed our dating situations and relationship statuses just so that we wouldn’t be surprised if we got up in the middle of the night and saw some stranger. Said he was single and wasn’t looking for sex.”

And you sigh in defeat, because the only thing that’s changed about Jaehyun according to that description is that he’s apparently single now and isn’t looking for sex.

Or maybe he was some stupid, immature fuckboy. You don’t know. And ever since you found out about her, you haven’t been sure if you’ve ever known him like you thought you did. You haven’t been sure about anything.

“Do you want him back?”

The questions catchs you off-guard. It isn’t exactly new, but you’ve never had anyone ask you this other than yourself. It’s all that you can think about. Do you really want him back? Or do you just miss what you had? What if it’s both?

“I don’t know,” you answer. And trust, you’ve been thinking about it since that whole ordeal at the café Monday. Even if you do, you shouldn’t. You don’t know Jaehyun’s motive, and there are plenty of other guys that can provide you everything he was giving you. One is literally looking you dead in the eye. He’s replaceable, you tell yourself. You don’t need him.

But that sure as hell has nothing to do with you wanting him.

“You don’t know?” Kai lifts his brow, “Or are you simply in denial?”

You feel like he’s your therapist, and the thought almost makes you laugh. Everything reminds you of Jaehyun. How sometimes, you’d play therapist for each other after you had sex, either directly afterwards or in the morning like now. It was so much more than sex, you think. To you, anyways. And that’s likely how you caught feelings.

Oh, dear god.

Even after two years, maybe those feelings you had for him still linger.

“I realized something,” you really don’t have to say anything, it’s written all over your face.

Jongin makes the conclusion, “You want him.”

Slowly, you nod. You think that you shouldn’t, but you do, and Jongin was right about you being in denial. You guess he really does read you just as well as you do him.

“I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because it’s your choice to make at the end of the day, but let’s take everything into account,” Jongin starts, voice sterner than it’s been all morning, “I’m not saying age is an excuse, but he was eighteen. All eighteen-year-old boys are stupid. Take it from someone who’s been there. But he’s twenty-one now, and it’s been years. That’s plenty enough time for him to grow and change.”

You nod along. That’s true, and while you could never be too careful because who’s to say he’s changed, who’s to say he hasn’t?

Kai adds, “If you want to take the risk, take it. If you don’t, then don’t. He made an inexcusable mistake. But he’s human, and all humans make mistakes. You dont owe him anything, especially not forgiveness, but be a little open-minded.”

The decision is yours. You can hear Jaehyun out and try to salvage your relationship, or you can continue to shut him out. You don’t owe him a second chance, but god, you must admit that you’ve always secretly longed to give him one, just so that you could go back to what you had.

Whenever you contemplate giving him a second chance, you think about her. You try to put yourself in her shoes, wondering how she must’ve felt, if she ever knew that the man she loved was fucking around with another woman. Maybe that’s how they broke up. Days ago, the thought would have made you run further and further away from him. But now, it’s almost like you’re rooted in place, bumping into dead-ends.

If you were her, you’d be unforgiving. But you’re not her, you never will be her, and that makes you want to be a little more selfish.

That makes you want him.

“Thanks, Kai,” you say, truly grateful to have his unbiased opinion. Usually you wouldn’t trust people you met less than twenty-four hours ago with your personal business, but all the shit you and Kai exchanged last night makes you willing to permit an exception. And then, you feel bad because even after the kind things he’s done for you since last night, he’s still sitting here advising you on your complicated you-problems. “And I’m so sorry for dumping all my problems on you, you’ve been so sweet and the least I could do—”

“Hey, no worries. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Kai interjects, “and if you want me to do a bit of snooping around…”

You shake your head. “No way. You’ve already done enough for me, and I don’t want you to get caught up in my drama. I can handle it.”

“Sure, you can. But I don’t want a girl like you to wind up heartbroken, especially over a possible jackass, and at very least you should see if you can trust him before you, well, trust him,” As though he can sense you about to object, he adds, “No buts. I’m going to keep a few tabs on him and alert you if there’s anything suspicious.”

You sigh, and don’t argue because it’s obvious he isn’t changing his mind. You’re grateful.

You smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And if he breaks your heart, I’m here.”

You scoff, “Flirting with me again, Kim Jongin?”

“Oh, baby,” he growls, “Keep saying my name like that and I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”

Ten minutes ago, that would have been tempting. But now you know what you want, and you’re determined to have it.

Yeri thinks it’s a bad idea.

Taeyong thinks it’s terrible idea.

Jaemin thinks you’ve had better ideas, but he’s willing to cooperate nonetheless.

“I don’t get it,” Taeyong shakes his head, “That guy broke your heart.”

“He wasn’t trying to,” you mutter.

“And he still did, that’s the crazy part.”

“It was two years ago. To be fair, all of us were stupid at eighteen.”

“Not all of us were cheating on our partners with a girl we met on summer break, though,” Taeyong quips, incredulous that he’s even having this discussion with you. You’ve always been on the same page, what changed?

You groan, “God, Taeyong. Sure, he cheated. Duh, he was in the wrong. But it wasn’t me that he cheated on and it’s not like we were ever in a relationship. He couldn’t have known how I felt about him when I did everything in my power to hide my feelings. And what if he’s changed?”

“And what if he hasn’t?” Taeyong retorts quickly.

The silence in the room is deadly. Taeyong can’t believe that he’s having to talk some sense into you, all while your other two friends sit quietly observing your argument. Is he the only one thinking around here? Why aren’t they helping?

Then, Yeri speaks up from the other side of the room, “Instead of arguing, let’s just put Jaehyun to the test.”

“And how do you plan on going about that?” Taeyong grumbles.

“Letting her talk to him, dimwit, how else?” Yeri rolls her eyes, “I know that you probably think that allowing him within a ten-foot radius of her is going to break her heart, but you’re greatly underestimating my best friend’s strength. She isn’t stupid, she can identify red flags.”

“Ease up on the fighting words,” Jaemin chuckles, “but I dunno, Yeri’s right. The only way she’ll know if he’s changed is to see for herself. If she notices anything odd, she can give him the boot. It’s not rocket science.”

You glance at Taeyong. Truthfully, you don’t need his permission, and both of you know that. But it would be nice to feel validated by your best friends, especially the overprotective one.

Taeyong glances back at you, and his expression softens. He’s always had a soft spot for you, and it’s hard to tell you no. Plus, he doesn’t want to be the token villain when everyone else is telling you to go for it. To chase what you want.

And in all honesty, Taeyong wishes he could chase what he wants. But the last thing he is is selfish, so maybe now is the time he lets you go.

Finally, he groans, “Alright, fine. Whatever. Talk to Jaehyun, see if he’s really ready to commit. But if this guy breaks your heart, I’m going to quote-unquote accidentally spill the hottest coffee on his face, just to give him a taste of the fire that is hell, where he will burn for eternity.”

Jaemin shivers, having flashbacks to the first time he spoke to Taeyong, “You love a good coffee threat, don’t you? So many fighting words.”

Taeyong doesn’t reply, just glares at Jaemin sharply.

“Hostile, but I’m with him,” Yeri nods, “Mark my words, that man will die a slow, painful death if he makes one more mistake.”

“Yep!” Jaemin agrees, “Don’t worry, babes. We got your back.”

At that, you smile. Your friends are on your side. Now, here comes the real trouble.

Mustering the ability to talk to Jaehyun.

Fortunately, Yerim’s annual Pal-Cation was right around the corner, and would extend until the end of the week.

Last year, Jaehyun didn’t attend.

Correction: he wasn’t invited.

Yeri and Jaehyun haven’t been on amazing terms since she became aware of everything, which put a dent in their relationship. This year, she’s invited him in favor of playing Cupid.

You’re a little nervous, anxious about being in the same space as Jaehyun for more than three minutes after all these years. You’re scared and you’re not sure of what, because if Jaehyun’s really as changed as he implies he is, the result should be predictable.

Then again, you don’t really know Jaehyun’s reason for wanting to talk to you, and that makes you all the more panicked. Of course, he wants you to hear him out, but what does he want to come out of that? A second chance? At what?To you, your relationship was so much more than sex. But what if it wasn’t to him? What if he just wants to get inside your pants?

“Girl, please,” Jaemin scoffs, crashing against your hotel bed like he owns the place. He’s in comfortable awe, and probably wouldn’t think twice if someone told him the beds were made out of marshmallows, “you were defending his life choices like yesterday—god damn, these beds are soft—and now you’re having second thoughts? Since when do you back down from things?”

You throw a pillow at him, “I was not defending him!”

“I talked to him earlier, when he asked me if I was sure about wanting him here,” Yeri states, sitting on the seat in front of the mirror. “Told him that there’s no way in hell he’d be here right now if I didn’t want him to be. He laughed and promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid, and I told him know, because if he does do something stupid it’s off with his motherfuckin’ head.”

Jaemin smiles, satisfied, “Yeah, that should do it. I’d be scared half to death, you could probably pay someone to kill him and no one would suspect a thing.”

“Enough about killing him,” you grimace, “I’m just, I dunno, nervous, I guess. What if he just wants to get in my pants?”

“Guess you better go found out, and tonight is the perfect opportunity. I reserved the pool, so we have the entire area to ourselves until midnight.”

“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be too bad anyways. When was the last time you got laid?” Jaemin adds.

You sneer and flip him off, “For your information, I got laid at that party Friday night when you left me for dead to go get drunk. And that’s why your ass was hungover. And Yeri, you never told me that your step-brother was so fucking hot.”

Yeri exclaims, “You slept with Jongin?”

“You slept with her brother?”

And that’s where you conclude that you’ve overshared, and it’s time for everyone to have some time to themselves, “Alright, everybody out,” you push and pull them both out, until they’re standing outside your door, “I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Then you shut the door, and lie on your bed, sighing with comfort. Jaemin’s right, the beds really are comfortable. You’re feeling drowsy already and decide to rest your eyes. There’s hours until it’s Pool Time.

Pool Time comes faster than you wished.

You’re antsy, but Yeri has SHINee’s Punch Drunk Love playing, so you feel more at ease. It also serves as a reminder that you’re going to need a drink or two to get through the night.

It doesn’t help that you had a dream about Jaehyun while you were trying to rest your eyes, about the night when you first you met him. You were at Yeri’s step-father’s beach house, and the dream was specifically when you made out in the middle of the pool. I’ll never let you drown, baby. You shake the memory away.

You glance around, and see everyone’s here. Yeri’s talking to her friend Mark who obviously has a crush on her, Jaemin’s engaging in conversation with Taeyong who for once doesn’t look like he wants to rip Jaemin’s head off, Yeri’s other friends are playing in the pool, and—Jaehyun.

Jaehyun’s seated at the bar, looking dead at you, which is exactly where you need to be but your lunch and your stomach seem to not be getting along suddenly. You tear your gaze, and glance back at Yeri. You need her help, one last push or words of encouragement, but you’re not selfish enough to interrupt Mark’s attempts at flirting with your friend and getting some.

Well fuck, you groan. You’re all alone this time, and deciding you look stupid standing there by yourself, you march to the bar and hoist yourself on the stool beside Jaehyun, ignoring the increasing speed of your heartbeat. It doesn’t help that this place only has two barstools.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bartender asks you. She’s pretty, got long dark hair and a nice face. You wonder if Jaehyun flirting with her is the reason she’s been smiling so hard since before you sat down, trying to stifle a giggle.

And you frown at your own thoughts. Leave it to you to automatically assume the worst.

“No idea. Suprise me,” you sigh, and with a nod she gets to work.

It’s difficult, more like impossible to ignore Jaehyun’s presence beside you. He isn’t saying anything, isn’t doing anything as far as you can tell without looking at him, but the knowledge that he’s there has you on your toes.

The bartender brings back your drink, tells you to enjoy and you say thank you before having a taste. You need this before you dare say a word to him.

And then he dare speaks, “Hi.”

You can feel your heart racing and you don’t know why, but you do know that you don’t like it. There’s no reason to feel like this, you heard Jaehyun talk at the party. You somehow manage to chirp back quietly, “Hi.”

“Aren’t you gonna look at me?”

It feels like he’s challenging you, almost to say you’re too much of a pussy to look him dead in the face, and you know you’re more than likely making that up but Jaehyun’s the first person to know that you’re last person to back down from a challenge, so you do turn to look at him.

It takes everything in you to stay rational when you do. You get the chance to look at him, to really look at him, and you’re taken aback by his features. He looks the same, but different all at once, obviously a little older.

Beside you is no longer the teenage boy with the cute, high-pitched voice, but a man with a deep and matured sound to his voice. He’s smiling a little wildly at you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in years.

You take a sip from your drink so that you don’t smile back and say, “I’m looking.”

“See something you like?”

“Nope,” you lie, as though you weren’t obvious checking him out seconds ago, “just you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Jaehyun grins playfully, “smile a little, won’t you?”

“Let’s cut to the chase, Jaehyun,” you change the subject. You refuse to let his little games work on you. “Didn’t you want me to hear you out? Hop to it or I’m leaving.”

He blinks. “Here?”

Well no one can hear you other than the bartender, but it’s a personal issue that deserves the utmost privacy and it’s not like you’re willing to share your personal business with a stranger, so you agree to walk around the pool with him. Close enough so that you’re not bumping into walls, distant enough to not be overheard.

You glance at him, “So?”

Jaehyun sighs, “Rather than defending myself, I think I should apologize. For not telIing you I was in a relationship, for risking dragging you into drama, it was selfish. I was selfish.”

It was selfish. He couldn’t have been thinking of your feelings, or even her feelings.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, and I can’t imagine how belittled it made you feel. You don’t have to forgive me, and I know you’re probably gonna hate me forever for this and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I’m sorry,” he gives you those emotional eyes, the same dejected gleam in them, “Sincerely. And if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”

“Tell me why,” you want the answers that you’ve been searching for all these years. Not exactly closure, but you don’t want to live in doubt, wondering maybe you were never enough, and that’s why you were always the side piece.

“Why I did it?”

You nod, and he’s silent for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know why eighteen-year-old me did the shit I did, but I know that I did it and I can’t take it back. I’ve looked back so many times and I still can’t fathom…” Jaehyun trails off, then starts shaking his head, “you know what? Maybe I do know why.”

Don’t cry, you tell yourself. You’re stronger than this. You’re blinking back tears, attempting to keep your voice level as you whisper, “Why then, Jaehyun?”

“It’s not the shocking, life-changing reason I always thought it would be,” he chuckles sadly, “it’s because I was stupid. And careless. I wasn’t thinking, but at the same time I thought I had the world at my feet, and I guess I did but then I…” Jaehyun stops to take a breath after he realizes he’s rambling. “But then I lost you. And that’s when I realized that this, the lying, the cheating, the going behind your backs—it was stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you agree, and he laughs a little more. “But let me ask you one more thing…” you say. He doesn’t reply, but his eyes tell you to go ahead. “Did you love her?” Or did you love me?

Jaehyun nods lazily. “At one point.”

You bite your lip, unsatisfied.

“Did you love me?”

That catches him off-guard. You almost expect him to stop walking the way he’s frozen, and you feel your stomach churning in regret.

“Nevermind, forget I asked that—”

“When you first left, I was unaffected,” Jaehyun interjects. “Like I said, I thought I had the world at my feet, so I thought you were replaceable. I tried replacing you. But it wasn’t the same, no matter how many times I tried, it was never, ever the same,” his eyes muse at you, “No one looked at me the way you did, no one talked to me all night and made me laugh like you did, no one ran circles through my mind like you, no one was like you. So I knew I needed you back, but by the time I realized you were already gone. And that’s when I knew I had fucked up.”

He adds, “So, yeah. I did love you. Maybe it was at the wrong time, maybe it was too late for me to love you, maybe I wasn’t supposed to, but I did and I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”

Jaehyun’s thumb runs over your eyes, wiping a string of tears that you hadn’t even know you cried. He doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls you closer to his chest.

“What about you?” He asks.

“What about me?”

“Did you love me?”

Now it’s your turn to freeze, and then you almost laugh. Of course, you loved him. You were in love with him. Hopelessly.

“Can I be honest?”

Jaehyun nods. “Mm-hm. That’s what this is all about, right?”

You exhale a sharp breath, preparing to tell one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the one person that was never supposed to know, “When I told you the reason I wanted to end things was because of you cheating on her, that wasn’t the whole truth. It was part of it, and though I’m no homewrecker, there’s another reason. I was in love with you—hopelessly, helplessly, utterly—and I couldn’t stand the thought that you never felt the same, that I was just a plaything to you.”

“Y/n—”

“Let me finish,” you order, “I left to take care of me. I thought it would have been disrespectful towards myself to stay in that position, when from my understanding, I loved you yet you loved her,” you feel another trail of tears coming, and wipe them away before they have the chance to spill. “At that moment, when I found out you already had someone, I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. I thought that maybe you never really cared, and I was the only one that felt it.”

It, the love. The spark. The connection. The butterflies in your stomach when he held you close, or called you cute pet names. The emotion whenever he was deep inside you.

“It felt like I had given my heart to a stranger,” you laugh humorlessly, “because for all I knew, who’s to say I was the only one you were fucking behind her back? I felt so, so stupid. Like I was never enough. And when I first saw your face again after all these years, all of that hurt came back. But at the same time,” you look him in his eyes, “all my feelings for you came back, too.”

It’s silent for a moment, but it isn’t awkward. You’ve just confessed your feelings for one another, not only now, but for the you of two years ago. For the you of eighteen who never thought you’d ever have this chance.

And you can’t believe Jaehyun’s actually had feelings for you, too. It always seemed like some fairytale thing, but hearing one another out like responsible adults instead of immature teens changes things.

“Wow,” Jaehyun whispers in surprise, “Wow. I was such a fool. I made a simple thing so fucking complicated. Imagine where we’d be if I would have just broken up with her and realized my feelings sooner.”

Together. You’d be together, as one.

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, didn’t,” you say lightheartedly, “There’s no use in worrying about that. You’ve apologized. And I forgive you.”

“You forgive me?” Jaehyun gawks. “Why? I thought you’d hate me forever or something.”

“I kinda still hate the you of two years ago, he’s an asshole,” you giggle, “but the you standing next to me right now, today, is a changed man who knows his mistake and won’t do that shit ever a-fucking-gain. Or else.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.”

You smile, “Good.”

“Good. So do we address our relationship too, or…”

“Later, please,” you groan. “Come sit by the water with me.”

Jaehyun agrees, and so now you’re sitting at the edge of the pool, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Is SHINee still your favorite band?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mumble, heart warming at the fact that he even still remembers that.

Then he teases, “Do you still swoon over Lee Taemin?”

You give him a very, very icy glare, “Shut up. I’ll push you into the pool right now.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jaehyun challenges.

Wrong move, you smirk. You love a challenge.

So in one swift movement, you do push him into the pool, and the sound of him yelling and the water splashing is like music to your ears. You giggle, watching as he comes back up, hair heavy and soaked as it sticks to him like a second skin. You also take notice of his white t-shirt, or his abs through the soaked cotton. Six pack. Toned. Stupid dumb crazy hot. Damn, sometimes you forget why you kept coming back to him.

He sneers, unamused. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” you disagree with a smile.

“Oh yeah?” he says, “Look, Lee Taemin!”

You turn without fully processing his statement yet, “Wha—agh!”

In an even swifter motion, Jaehyun’s pulled your ankles, and now a distracted you falls into the pool with a splash. Not to mention, your bikini cover-up is still on. This, unfortunately, is karma. Inconvenience aside, you’re getting deja vu, a distant memory seeping back into your mind.

You whine, “Not fair.”

“It’s a little fair,” he mocks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’re lucky I know how to swim,” you wringe out your hair, “You would have had an lawsuit against you if I didn’t.”

You wonder if he’s taken the hint, if he’s gonna say it. You remember that exact moment, being so close to his face and feeling so warm. I’d never let you drown, baby.

And like a rehearsed line, he says perfectly, “I’d never let you drown, baby.”

“You remember.” Your tone is like a question, but it’s a statement.

“I remember a lot of things about you,” Jaehyun states, and perfectly timed, the current song fades into your all-time personal favorite—SHINee’s 1 of 1. “For instance, is this still your favorite SHINee song?”

One glance in Yeri’s direction confirms your suspicion that this is all her doing, as you see her giggling at you, phone in hand. It was already suspicious of her to play SHINee when she’s an Ariana Grande girl, but now you definitely see her her crystal-clear intentions.

“Yeah,” you mutter, but as you turn back around you notice he’s definitely close enough to hear you. Your noses are almost touching, and you can feel your heart racing. You feel like a teenager in love all over again, blood pumping, your heart beating in your ears. Deja vu.

Jaehyun must be feeling it too, because he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Yet again, you blush. “Sure.”

And on cue, his lips are against yours. Jaehyun’s still an amazing kisser, he feels gentle yet he’s so fierce, gripping your waist as your fingers tangle in his hair. You know for a fact he’d be even rougher if you weren’t inside of a pool.

His lips feel better than you remember, and then he bites your lip. You moan, lips parting and he darts his tongue in your mouth. You can taste his drink on his tongue, faint remnants of whatever he had in his cup.

Fuck, you forgot how high kissing him makes you feel. It’s like an addictive drug, and you can feel nothing but your heartbeat and his lips on yours. You don’t want him to stop.

And then, to your misfortune, he does stop. You whimper, not really taking notice of how out of breath you are as you’re overcome with greed.

“Why’d you stop?” You frown.

“You need to breathe, babe. You wanna almost drown in the pool like Taeyong?” He laughs.

Speaking of Taeyong, you check on him with your eyes. To your surprise, he’s still talking and laughing with Jaemin, the pair obviously hitting it off and super into one another. It makes you smile. That boy’s had a huge crush on you that you both know you can’t reciprocate for years, and it’s time he lets you go.

“Hello… Earth to y/n? You look like the cute puppy eyes emoji.”

Your eyes snap at Jaehyun, “Shut up,” you reply, “And kiss me.”

“Bossy,” Jaehyun teases, but he must like that about you, because moments later he’s kissing you again, even more passionately than before.

“Oh, c’mon!”

Yeri giggles, “Sorry, y/n. The majority rules!”

For the second day of your California vacation, Yeri’s decided to take everyone to an amusement park an hour out from the hotel. You asked her why she didn’t do Disney Land this year, but she said it was reserved for her first Bae-Cation.

You roll your eyes. What happened to chicks over dicks?

The point is, you wanted to separate into groups, considering it would be easier to keep up with everyone. However, everyone else wanted to do pairs, arguing that there was more freedom and it’d be easier to come towards a mutual decision instead of arguing over what to ride.

So everyone grabs their partners, and you’re shocked when you see Jaemin and Taeyong step beside one another. You’re incredulous. Jaemin’s just been abandoning you left and right ever since he came back.

“You two in love or some shit now?” You fold your arms, eyes pointing at them accusingly. “What happened to those coffee threats, Yong? I thought you said Jaem was annoying. And Jaemin? You said he was scary!”

Jaemin shrugs coolly. “He was, but then I realized something. Taeyong’s like an egg, he has a hard shell—” Taeyong glares, “—nevermind, he doesn’t like that comparison very much. Taeyong’s like a smore, hard on the outside yet warm and soft on the inside. Oh, and very deli—ow!”

Jaemin holds his stomach dramatically, looking at Taeyong who stands with a satisfied grin on his face. Perhaps, Taeyong still is a little scary.

“Jaem! Yong!”

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Jaemin eyes twinkle, “I think our ship name should be Jaeyong.”

Taeyong disagrees, “No way. It should be Taemin.”

“First of all, you two will never be Taemin,” you interject with a scowl. “Anyways, you two figure that out. I’ll go be with my partner.”

And you stomp away to spot Jaehyun waiting for you with a cheeky grin. You’re optionless, you suppose. Yeri’s with Mark again, Taeyong and Jaemin are obviously a thing now, Seulgi’s with Winter and Jennie’s with Nayeon.

It’s not even like last night ended poorly. Last night couldn’t have been better, you spent your time making out and drinking with Jaehyun in the pool until midnight. It was too good to be true, you felt like Cinderella, having to slip back into her normal life by the time the clock struck twelve.

Now though, you have to be alone with Jaehyun. Okay technically, you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people, and depending on where you go your friends may or may not be accompanying you, though still. It isn’t that you don’t trust him, but isn’t it natural to feel uneasy?

Jaehyun calls, “C’mon, princess! Let’s go get hotdogs. I’m hungry.”

“We ate at the hotel,” you snort.

“So? That was an hour ago. Plus the time it took for us to get through that crazy ass line. If you’re not hungry, I’ll buy you a lemonade or something.”

A lemonade does sound good, you ponder. It’s summertime, and no amount of sunglasses and mosquito-repellent sunscreen is going to help you beat this heat. It’s ninety-something degrees.

“Fine,” you give in, and an eternity later (curse these never-ending lines) you’re sitting down at a bench, you sipping on your humongous cup of lemonade and Jaehyun eating a hotdog.

To be honest, you really didn’t need the largest size that they had. You were just testing his reaction for the fun of it, expecting to have a giggle or two, but he totally surprised you, buying it and insisting you should have it even after you told him that you were just playing.

The Jaehyun you knew three years ago was many things, and rich was not one of them.

“Let’s talk,” he says after discarding his hotdog in the bin. Oh of course, Jaehyun’s brain cannot function when he’s running low on food.

Playing dumb, you ask, “About what?”

“Us,” he answers simply.

“In the middle of an amusement park?”

“It’s important,” Jaehyun grins, “You don’t trust me.”

Perplexity is written all over your face. You trust Jaehyun on the basic level, you feel safe around him and in his embrace. But you’re not sure if you trust him with your heart just yet, and after everything he did, you have the right to be scared.

“And I understand why. I hurt you once, you’re scared I might do it again. So let’s start over,” he concludes, and you blink. “From scratch. Past aside. I want you to get to know me, and I wanna get to know you. I’m sure there’s plenty of things I don’t know about you now.”

I mean, you know the gist. You didn’t say that aloud, of course. Through a discussion last night, he still knows your favorite color and your undying love for pie and SHINee, especially Taemin, your birthday, your mom’s birthday, even your dog’s birthday—okay, maybe he knows too much. Or you overshared. Who knows.

And you still remember a lot of facts about him, but at the same time, there’s still so much you don’t know about one another.

“Right,” you agree, “So by starting over, you mean…”

“Completely,” he answers quick. “Let’s re-introduce ourselves.”

Your lips don’t quiver, drawn into a line. “You gotta be kidding.”

“I’m serious!” Jaehyun claims. “C’mon, I’ll even go first.”

“Jaehyun—”

“Aht, aht! You’re not supposed to know my name,” Jaehyun chides. “Hi, my name’s Jaehyun, I’m twenty-one, and I like Cigarettes After Sex. The band, I mean. I don’t smoke.”

You roll your eyes. There was no need for him to explain, because literally everybody knows Jaehyun likes Cigarettes After Sex, the same way everyone knows you like SHINee. But for the sake of placating him and getting this over with, you refuse to make any comments.

“This is so corny.”

“The longer you wait the longer it takes.”

Reluctantly you give in, but not without a groan. “Hi, Jaehyun. My name’s y/n, I’m also twenty-one, and I like SHINee.”

Jaehyun claps dramatically, “Bravo! Was that so hard?”

“Yes, actually.”

He giggles, tells you to stop being dramatic and you two begin your mission to ride every ride that you can within the span of a few hours. You get more snacks in between, sharing a container of butter-y delicious popcorn and double-dating some rides with the other pairs (which unfortunately happens to lead to you witnessing Mark throwing up in a bush).

Unfortunately, time flies by fast when you’re having fun, and when Yeri texts the Pal-Cation Pals group chat to meet up by the first popcorn stand in fifteen minutes, you know you have little time remaining, enough for one last ride.

The Ferris Wheel.

Last but not least, the Ferris Wheel. You and Jaehyun have been saving it for last, agreeing the full experience is at dark night, when the colorful lights illuminate the indigo sky.

“Let’s go!” You pull him into a cart, and he laughs at your enthusiasm.

When the ride starts, Jaehyun holds your hand and you rest your head on his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable, and you quickly realize you miss having him like this. Close to you. And it’s silent for a moment. You and Jaehyun have always had these moments together, where you’re not talking one another’s ears off, but holding each other in warm silence. You have always valued the other’s company.

You watch as the world gets smaller underneath your feet, how the Ferris wheel lights twinkle in vibrant colors, and shine on its surroundings. You see how the other rides glow in the dark, appearing so close yet so far away.

It’s beautiful. Your eyes flare different colors—red, blue, pink, green—as you gawk in wonder. If you could, you’d stay like this forever, watching this astonishing sight with Jaehyun at your side.

“You look pretty in the light,” Jaehyun marvels, snapping you out of your daze. The butterflies and their flapping wings come back, and he’s always been able to make you feel like this so easily.

Warmth fills your cheeks, and you turn around so that he doesn’t notice. “Don’t I always? Or are you saying I only look pretty in the light?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “You’re still impossible. I’m trying to flirt with you.”

“Then do so,” you smile. “Keep telling me about how pretty I am.”

“Look at me,” Jaehyun whispers, but it’s loud and clear to you. Slowly, you do look at him, noticing the way his lips curl into a soft grin, and how the purple light casts on his gorgeous skin and features. “Your lips are pretty, too.”

Next, he’ll call your bones pretty and you’ll still feel your face flush with heat.

Jaehyun kissed you for hours last night, but when his lips collide with yours again you know that you’ll never get used to the feeling. Your fingers card through his hair while his gravitate towards your skin, cold hands sending a shiver down your spine as they mesh with the evening warmth.

You bite at his lip this time, wallowing in the sound of his moan as it tumbles from between his parted lips. He can feel you smiling, the corners of your lips spreading apart as you stifle a laugh.

It feels like fire consumes you, like you’re melting, melting into his touch, like candle wax as his fingertips trace your skin. Like a bomb’s ignited inside you, like you’re exploding, and the more you feel him the more you desire him. The more you crave him, the more your body yearns for him.

You know you have him when you move for his neck, marking a trail of red lipstick stains that look purple in the light. He takes it as a challenge, retaliating with a bite at your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure, and this is definitely why you get along so well—you’re compatible.

“When we get back,” you gasp, ignoring the complacent look he casts at you, “Meet me in my room.”

“What about the others?”

“They saw us making out in the pool, Jaehyun, literally nobody cares,” you roll your eyes. “No more sneaking around shit, right?”

He smiles, “Right. Can’t anyways, your lipstick is all over my throat.”

You giggle, and bring him back in for another kiss as the ride begins to slow to an end.

The next couple of days are equally eventful, yet fly by far too quickly for your liking. You hit the beach and unfortunately witness a woman being stung by a jelly fish, visit some museums, the zoo, and even hike near the Hollywood sign. You also make sure to spend Yeri’s money on some souvenirs, and Jaehyun buys you matching necklaces. You have his J, he has your first initial.

Today is Saturday—already. Tomorrow you will return home, and you’re not sure if you’re ready or not. You sigh as you scroll through your camera roll. You’ve had so much fun this week, there’s the pictures of Mark’s scared face on the roller coaster, Taeyong buried alive into the sand, Yeri and the girls trying on humongous sun glasses at the mall, and the video of Jaemin and Jaehyun arm-wrestling to determine who’s the better Jae to prove it (Jaehyun won).

Like a normal Saturday, today’s the one chill day. The whole week has been chaotic in a fun way, but Yeri had nothing else planned, so she told everyone to take a day to wind down and feel free to venture out to wrap up the vacation.

Which leads you to now.

Jaehyun and you agreed to visit the park, just walking around and talking, and perhaps doing some making out in between. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, and you’re pretty sure you’re addicted. It’s like there’s crack in his lips that cannot simply be fixed with chapstick.

“It’s hot,” you complain.

Jaehyun snorts. “We’re in California, babe. Imagine Yeri took us to Florida.”

You wince. You’re barely beating the Californian heat, there’s no way you’ll survive down south in Florida. It doesn’t even snow there.

“I thought you were gonna say some fake-romantic shit, like I’ll reach into the sky and throw the sun into the freezer, princess, just say the word,” you mimick his voice exaggeratedly.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but laughs nonetheless, “No can do, princess,” he teases, “but I can get us some ice cream from that stand over there. Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” You shout. “You even know what I want?”

He says your favorite flavor, and even your preferred container to consume it in, “Right?”

A smile spreads on your lips, and your heart flutters. He remembers. “Right.”

Jaehyun shoots you a smile then jogs over to the ice cream stand, pulling his wallet from his pockets. You gotta remember to ask him where he’s getting all this money from, this man could be a drug dealer for all you know.

Nonetheless, you sit at a nearby bench and pull out your phone. Nothing beats checking up on your Animal Crossing island while you wait.

You notice the presence of someone sitting beside you but don’t bat an eye, knowing without looking that it isn’t Jaehyun. And who are you to shoo away a stranger if they want to rest their feet?

“You must be y/n,” hearing your name, your eyes snap to the side instinctively.

And that’s when you realize that this stranger may not be as unknown as you initially thought.

Your eyes widen, “You…”

“I am, Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend,” she, Victoria announces proudly, like it’s some achievement to be clipped onto the fridge.

You never met her, but you’ll never forget her name, or her face for that matter. It’s kind of stupid, how you found out. You were on Instagram, and you saw Jaehyun’s account in the replies of Yeri’s post. You clicked his profile, because you had never exchanged accounts before, and you quickly saw why.

He didn’t post her often, amongst all the flaunting images of himself, but when he did he made it crystal clear that she was his girlfriend, and what sole other woman would he continuously post onto his page?

“What are you doing here?” You ask, an obviously bitter edge to your voice. It isn’t she that you should be bitter towards, but you can’t help but feel slightly defensive.

“Relax, darling, I’m not stalking you on whatever summer vacation he’s had the courtesy to whisk you away on,” Victoria giggles. Of course not, that would be obsessive. “It’s actually a coincidence to see you, but since we’re here, let’s talk.”

Disinterested, you reply, “There’s nothing for you and I to discuss.”

“Of course, there is! You were fucking with him while he was with me, right?” she gives you a picture-perfect smile that makes you want to grit your teeth, yet you compose yourself. She sighs, “You know that, and yet you’re like what, dating him now? I’m telling you now, once a cheater, always a cheater. You might think he loves you now, but I promise you, he’ll stab you in the back the moment you aren’t looking.”

Victoria misjudges your silence as you giving her the go-ahead to continue, “I know that you know, and I know you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s changed, but he’s still the same old bastard he was three years ago. I mean just look at him, he’s even flirting with that lady now.”

With furrowed brows, you turn in Jaehyun’s direction, eyes finding that he actually is flirting with the ice cream lady. You can’t believe your eyes. Really? The fucking ice cream woman? He isn’t trying to be subtle with it, either.

She tilts her head as she speaks in your ear, “See? He doesn’t give a fuck. Not about you, not about her, not about any of us. You’re just yet another notch in his belt.”

And suddenly, all those doubts come back, the ones that you had pushed away and replaced with your growing feelings for him. Yet now that they’re existing within the same space, it’s even more terrifying, it’s exactly what you feared.

What if Jaehyun never really cared? What if all this is just some big act? What if he’s just been playing with your emotions this entire time? What if you don’t really know Jaehyun like you thought?

You want him, but what if he doesn’t really want you?

Jaehyun walks over, seemingly not noticing his ex-girlfriend’s presence, “I got the ice cream. Who’s th—Victoria?”

“Hello, Jaehyun,” she waves, offering him a smile. “We were just talking about you.”

“What the fuck did you tell her?” Jaehyun scowls, taking notice of your silence and the empty, unhappy gaze you shoot him. You don’t even smile, hardly even blink.

Victoria shrugs. “Nothing she doesn’t already know.”

“I’m walking back to the hotel,” you announce, sliding your phone back into your pocket and peeling yourself off of the bench.

“Wait!”

He calls out your name.

For the third time, you turn and walk away.

This time, though, he’s not letting you walk away. Not without putting up a fight first.

“Why are we doing this again?” Jaehyun yells. “Why? Did I do something? We can just talk this out, you know. What happened to no more secrets?”

You retort, “You fucking tell me, Jaehyun! How am I supposed to know that you don’t have secrets?”

“The same goddamn way I know you don’t have any! Trust!” And the realization hits him hard. He knows that it’s only been some days, but what could Victoria have said to make you back out so hastily? “Is that what it is? You don’t trust me?”

Tears sting your eyes. “Trust you? You want me to trust you? With you being the kind of person you are? You’re out of luck.”

That burned Jaehyun. After all of the bonding you’ve done lately, he would’ve thought that you would trust him a little more, but he sees clearly now. He sees that he’s done all he can do, and now it’s time for you to do your part.

“What kind of person am I, y/n?” He asks coldly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You spit, “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun laughs tonelessly, “Well frankly I think you’re an asshole, too. So when you’re ready to be assholes together, let me know.”

And this time, Jaehyun’s the one that walks away. This time, you understand his pain, as you have those tear-stung eyes and that quivering voice. That empty feeling inside, the pang in your heart. The way it’s killing you inside, but you don’t have it in you to move, to chase him. All you can do for now is let it eat at you slowly.

Maybe Victoria was wrong. Maybe you’re planting the knife in your own back.

Sunday comes slowly, and you’re glad you didn’t ride the same van as Jaehyun. You still have to deal with the curious stares your friends shoot you, but it’s better than confronting your emotions, or at least you think it is.

You’re not ready yet.

When you get home, the first time you do is order Panda Express via Uber Eats so that you don’t starve as you rot in your room. The next thing you do is flop against your bed and and sob.

A few days go by like this, in pure brutal agony. You drowning in your thoughts, the maybes and the what if’s. You feel like a teenage girl experiencing her first break-up, lost and confused and unsure of how to deal with the hurt. It’s no one’s fault but yours though, and it’s your job to fix it or forever hold your peace.

Love is hard. You know that. You accept that. If you couldn’t, then it would be wrong of you to try be in a real relationship. But loving, as a verb, is easy. Too easy. So easy, to the point where sometimes, you don’t realize you’re doing it until it’s too late. What’s harder is accepting the fact that love isn’t a choice, but a feeling. If it was, you would have chosen to stop loving Jaehyun years ago. You would have chosen to fall in love with Taeyong, or maybe even Kai.

But your heart chose Jung Jaehyun, and it must have a mind of it’s own, because no matter how much you tell it to let go, it doesn’t listen.

That’s why as the days go by, they’re slow and empty. Because Jaehyun’s not there. Not with you. And a little voice in the back of your head is saying he’s with another girl, but your heart is telling you to have faith. You are severely conflicted.

Just when you think you might just spend the rest of your life rotting here, you’re quickly proven wrong by the dedication and genuine care and concern of your best friends.

“Hey, bitch,” Jaemin strolls in casually, as though this is his room, “New guy already?”

“What?”

“Some guy opened the door,” he replies, flopping against your bean-bag cough.

You blink, gears turning in your mind as you try to decipher what man could possibly be inside of your house—oh. You roll your eyes, “That’s my roommate’s boyfriend, you dumbass.”

“Oh,” Jaemin mumbles, then his eyes twinkle as he makes a move for your desk, “Ooh, Panda Express.”

Suddenly, Yeri storms inside your bedroom, flickering on the lights inside your very much dim and deprived of life, sunshine and happiness room, chanting vigorously the lyrics to Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj’s The Light is Coming, “The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole!”

You groan, yanking the sheets and comforter over your face to block out the light like a vampire, “You guys, please leave me alone.”

“Nope,” says Taeyong, who follows suit after your other friends, venturing into your room. You fight, you tugging the covers towards you while he attempts at pulling them off. It’s a quick battle which you lose, and you soon accept defeat. “You’ve been suffering in silence—and darkness—for far too long. So, fess up. What did that punk do? Do I need to prepare the coffee?”

You sigh, Saturday seeping back into your memory. “He didn’t do anything.”

Jaemin blinks. “What do you mean? Why else have you been sulking in your bedroom for the past four days like a divorced man who’s ex-wife took the kids and the TV? Shit, all you’re missing is a bar and some alcohol at this point.”

You roll your eyes, “I mean, I was the one that fucked up this time.”

“What?”

They all gasp involuntarily, and if you had it in you, you would roll your eyes at the chorus of what’s.

That day rewinds in your head, how it was so warm then so cold within a matter of moments. Your eyes water as you recall everything that happened, Victoria, your public altercation, walking back to the hotel alone while it felt like there was a rain cloud above your head, despite the piping hot conditions outdoors.

It isn’t like you don’t want to let Jaehyun in. You do, but you’re terrified of granting him that permission, of giving him your heart when he’s broken it before. But this way, you’re only breaking your heart more, and breaking his, too.

“I did something stupid. I assumed the worst when I shouldn’t have, and then I got scared. So I ran,” you want to bury yourself underneath the covers and sink into the earth to be forgotten, but you have to deal with your mistakes. “And I broke his heart. Now I need to fix it, but I don’t fucking know how.”

Yeri thinks you’re dumb.

Taeyong thinks you’re stupid.

Jaemin thinks you’re out of your fucking mind and an absolute fool for letting your thoughts destroy you, but he’ll do whatever he can to help.

“Talk to him, duh,” Yeri says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it is, but easier said than done.

“How? I bet he doesn’t even want to see my face.”

“Are you kidding?” Jaemin gawks. “He’s been moping around the apartment like literally all week, and me and Jongin haven’t said anything because we thought it was his fault! He also has divorced man syndrome!”

Oh. You feel extra stupid now, and you can’t believe you let Victoria get in your head. Collapsing onto your pillow, you groan, “I really am an asshole.”

“Maybe, yeah,” Taeyong agrees, “but so is he, you guys are a match made in heaven.”

“Or hell,” Jaemin chimes in.

Taeyong glares. “With that being said—and I mean this in the friendliest way possible—get your head out of your ass and go talk to him.”

And you smile softly at that. If Taeyong’s giving you the push, you know that everyone’s right and you need to do something. Now.

You nod and whip out your phone with a sigh, opening iMessage. Can we talk?

(Delivered.)

(Read.)

Sure.

Antsy, you’re fidgeting. Your anxiety is spiking and you can feel your heartbeat directly in your eardrums, but this time your fears won’t scare you off. You wait for Jaehyun, feet tapping against the ground restlessly, until you see him nearing.

He walks over to your side, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and you feel your heart wrenching a little when you notice that he doesn’t give you his wild grin he usually shoots whenever he sees you. His face is inscrutable, and you bite back the urge to run, because you know now that no matter how fast you run, you’ll never be able to hide from your feelings.

“Hey,” your voice is giving up on you, but you refuse to let it. Get a grip.

“Hey,” Jaehyun whispers back. His eyes are dark and empty, and that’s how you know you cut him deep. There’s always a gleam to his eyes, whether sad or blissful.

You can do this, you tell yourself. You’ve talked to him about much worse before, this should be nothing. But still, it’s never been quite like this. You’ve never made this bad of a mistake.

“About Saturday,” you begin, still fidgeting but managing to look at him, “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions instead of asking you, instead of trusting you, and I let Victoria get in my head—”

“Yeah, what the hell was that about?” Jaehyun interjects. “Sorry for interrupting you, but I’m still confused. Did I do something?”

“She pointed out that you were flirting with the ice cream lady. What was that?”

Jaehyun blinks, processing your statement, and when he does he begins shaking his head, “Seriously? You’re telling me this is all over the fucking ice cream? I was only flirting with her to get free ice cream! You know they was trying to charge me fifteen dollars for 4 scoops?”

“It’s not just that!” You exclaim. “Like, yeah, that triggered it, but—fuck, Jaehyun, I was scared, I was so fucking scared. I was overthinking, and all my doubts and fears came back, that what if you never cared, what if you don’t want me like I want you, what if I don’t know you like I think I do? I was scared to trust you, scared that I love you because I don’t want to lose you again—”

If Jaehyun was a dog, his ears would perk up. “You love me?”

“Yes,” you answer boldly. “I love you, Jaehyun. I’m in love with you, and up until now that scared me half to death, because I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to know that you love me, too,” and especially enough to stay. “But now I know. I trust you, Jaehyun. I love you, I want you, and I’m gonna be honest, I’m still a little scared. But that’s what love is, trusting someone to not break your heart. It’s a risk I’m ready to take for you.”

Jaehyun is silently stunned. He doesn’t have much to say, taken aback by your confession and the fact this actually happening. “You mean that?”

You nod, smiling. “Every word.”

In seconds, Jaehyun has you pinned to the wall, his lips against yours. God, you missed this feeling. The feeling of his plush lips against yours, his hands on your body. You miss kissing him irresistibly, every hour of every day, for moments at a time until you were breathless.

Jaehyun seems to have missed it just as much, kissing you with a passion—hungrily; greedily. He kisses you like he can’t have enough, like his lips have an insatiable hunger.

And you can’t believe you’re making out with him behind your apartment, but you’re willing to try new things for him.

Jaehyun taps your thighs, and by now you know that that meets to jump, so you do, shrieking a little, yet he doesn’t let you fall. “I got you,” he whispers in between kisses, breath tickling your skin, “and I won’t ever let you go.”

It’s been five days. You’ve been trying not to think too hard about the label thing, maybe Jaehyun is planning something, he wouldn’t just forget to ask you to be his girlfriend.

You’re walking back to your apartment when it happens.

“Excuse me,” a stranger with an oddly familiar voice calls at to you, and when you whirl around, the last person to see is…

“Taemin?” You nearly scream. He points his index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet, which makes sense because you’re in public but there’s literally no way the man standing before you is the Lee Taemin. You’re dreaming.

You even pinch yourself, much to his amusement, and come to the realization that this is very much real. You could faint. Taemin? Lee Taemin? From SHINee? There’s simply no way.

“I believe this is for you,” Taemin holds in his hands your all-time favorite SHINee album, The Misconception Of Us. You take it, staring at the album in disbelief. You’re gawking. “And one last thing. Come with me, please?”

Okay, what the hell. He has to be trying to kidnap you or something, it’s perfect bait. Who wouldn’t agree to follow their favorite artist after they randomly pop up behind you and offer you your favorite album for free? You’re lucky it isn’t some kidnapping scheme, because you ultimately end up following him despite your doubts.

He takes you to the cafe, which, to your surprise is empty. At least you think it is, until Jaehyun slips out of hiding, walking up to you with a smile.

“Jaehyun,” you can’t help smile back, “What the?”

“Flip it over,” he says, gesturing towards the album, and curiously, you obey. To the back is attached a sticky note that says, To my 1 of 1 girl, will you be my girlfriend? It’s cheesy, but it has you smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Yes!” Instantly, you crash into his arms. “Yes, yes, yesyes yes—” he has to cut you off with his lips, and you melt into kiss.

You pull away the second you hear the intro to your favorite song, 1 of 1, and look onto the cafe stage (yes, the cafe has a stage for Friday through Saturday night performances) to see Taemin beginning to sing and cover the other members parts.

You’re mind-blown. A part of you is still convinced that this is a dream, because how the fuck did Jaehyun get a man as busy as Lee Taemin to do this? You forgot to ask him who he works for, but do drug dealers have Lee Taemin money?

“How did you—”

“Shh,” Jaehyun pecks your lips, “Taemin’s singing.”

You roll your eyes, yet giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jaehyun engulfs you in a warm, comfortable hug, “And only you.”

When he says it, you trust him. You believe him. Because the Jung Jaehyun you know and love today is a man of his word, and that means you get to love him with no fears, and no worries.

Love is a challenge. And in this moment and the next, it’s safe to say you’ve won.

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