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#when they change the like well maybe there’s a god above to I know there’s a god above
bonyassfish · 2 years
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It should be illegal for Christians to cover Leonard Cohen songs
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punkshort · 19 days
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I don’t know if this is an annoying request but is there any way to get a Drabble of when reader had gotten jealous (in the past before the accident) when she found out that joel and Angie had history. In one of your previous chapters, Joel described it as some of the best sex of his life 👀
-Kiwi 🥝💚
Not an annoying ask at all! Thank you for sending this to me, this was a great idea! Sorry it took so long to get to it!
Jealous
An I Know Who You Are drabble
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), blow job, unprotected piv sex, language, edging, lil bit of dom reader/sub joel, masturbation, angry/a little rough sex, jealousy, possessiveness, spanking, hair pulling
WC: 1.6K
A/N: I want to let everyone know this part of their history took place very early on in their relationship. Reader does not yet know his secret, they are in the 'messing around' stage and if you recall, Joel once compared reader to taming a wild horse. So the reader in this story is very different from the one we know. Enjoy!
"Please," Joel whimpered, no longer above begging.
You were between his legs, his cock leaking and heavy in your mouth. With every swirl of your tongue and pump of your fist, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the brink just to have you pull away with a devilish smirk. It was maybe the third time you left him gasping for breath but he lost count so he couldn't be sure. His brain was a jumbled mess and his skin was on fire, soaked with sweat due to his heart pounding so furiously in his chest for the past twenty minutes.
"God, I love it when you use your manners," you purred. You cracked your back and neck with a soft moan, completely ignoring his cock throbbing and aching for attention in front of you. "It really turns me on. Wanna see?"
He groaned and arched his back off the bed, desperately trying to get you to touch him again. He wasn't used to this. Whatever it was you were doing together was fairly new and while the sex was always good, this was something else. And all because at dinner that night, you discovered he fucked someone else well before you even arrived in Jackson.
It was beginning to bother him how non-committal you were. The first couple times you were together, he didn't mind. In fact, he preferred it that way. Especially considering the guilt that weighed him down ever since he first recognized you. But recently, something changed in the way he looked at you, thought about you, felt about you. He was so fucking rusty, he had no idea how to shift the nature of your relationship to something more meaningful. So when Angie showed up, batting her lashes and touching his shoulder at the bar while he waited for you to finish playing whatever game you were playing and come home with him, he leaned into it a bit. He tossed Angie a smile just to add fuel to the flames and make you end the charade. And out of the corner of his eye, when he saw you stiffen and slam down your drink, he felt his cock twitch with excitement.
Maybe he shouldn't have pushed your buttons.
"You're not listening to me," you said sternly, grabbing his chin and forcing his attention back onto you. "I asked you a question."
"Yes," he rasped, "show me. Please," he added, remembering at the last second how you liked it when he begged. You smiled and let his chin go, then took that very same hand and slowly dragged it down your bare chest, over your stomach and underneath the fabric of your panties. You tipped your head back and moaned when you slid two fingers into your pussy, and when you began to rock your hips into your hand, still kneeling between his legs on the bed, he whined and fisted the bedsheets next to him.
He desperately moaned your name, wiping the sweat from his forehead, but you cut him off.
"So wet," you whispered, rolling your neck and opening your eyes, steadily holding his gaze while you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers. "Feels so good. Maybe I'll just make myself come, instead."
"No!" he growled angrily, sitting up and grabbing the back of your neck. You gasped in surprise but he could see your eyes sparkling with excitement and the corners of your mouth twitch.
"No?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side and sinking your teeth into your lower lip, your eyes locked onto his, now inches away from your face while you snapped your wrist even faster between your legs.
"I wanna make you come," he said through clenched teeth while he did everything in his power not to grab you by the waist and slam you down on his cock.
"If you don't like it, maybe you should've taken her home tonight, instead," you seethed angrily, then your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth fell open when your fingers finally brushed up against that one spot that always made you come undone. Joel's nostrils flared when he realized you were close and decided he had enough.
"Fuck this," he muttered. He wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked it out from between your legs, and before you even had a chance to open your eyes and yell at him, he scooped his other arm around your back and flipped you over so you were lying underneath him. He smirked down at you, finally getting the upper hand. "Did I make you jealous, baby?"
You scoffed and wiggled underneath him, but he pinned you down.
"Don't be ridiculous. You're allowed to fuck whoever you want."
He hummed and noticed your fingers still glistening with your slick. He grabbed your wrist and popped both your fingers into his mouth, his tongue lapping up your arousal with a heady groan, making sure to lick up every last drop before releasing your fingers with a grin.
"Only wanna fuck you, though."
He noticed the way your expression softened a bit, just for a split second. The first crack in your armor. But before he could dig into it deeper, you shifted gears.
"Then go ahead and fuck me already."
He yanked your underwear so fast down your legs, you heard the fabric rip, but you could hardly care when a moment later he was sinking himself inside you with a strangled groan, both finally finding some relief in the familiar stretch.
"Y'drive me fuckin' crazy, y'know that?" he murmured into your cheek. He held your jaw tightly in his grip, his hips roughly slamming into you as you gasped and moaned under him. With every harsh thrust, he brushed against that one spot, already stimulated from your fingers earlier. "Can't just admit you're jealous? Wouldn't look my way all night 'til someone else did and now look at you. Makin' a mess all over my cock."
Your eyes flared with anger and you yanked your chin out of his grasp. Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pulled as hard as you could, causing him to lose his balance for a moment, but it was all you needed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and with a grunt, rolled him over onto his back so you were straddling him.
Your mouth crashed down against his, teeth clashing and tongues messily licking into each other. With your heavy breaths mingling together, his hands roamed, grabbing onto every part of you he could find until they settled on your hips. He helped guide you in his lap, fingers digging into the fatty area where your thighs and hips creased, adding more force every time you dropped back down onto his thick length.
"Jesus, fuck!" Joel growled, lifting one hand to slap your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp until the pain faded and you ordered him to do it again, so he did.
You moaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling, hips grinding into him so you could give your burning thighs a break but it apparently wasn't enough because he started to ram up into you, soft grunts slipping past his lips with each thrust.
With little warning, your back arched and you cried out, convulsing and squeezing his cock as you came, gasping desperately for air. He couldn't tear his eyes away, completely mesmerized, like usual. You were gorgeous, he always knew that, but when he got to see you fall apart for him, it transcended his definition of beauty and left him in awe.
Once you collected yourself, he pulled you down to his chest, burying his face against your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your ribs, slamming into your used cunt over and over, making you whimper against his skin.
"I wanna come inside you so fuckin' bad," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.
"You can't," you whispered back, leaving out but I wish you could.
"I know."
With a rough groan, he pulled out, causing your eyelids to flutter weakly and your pussy clench angrily at the loss. He pulled your hips down flush so he could rut against you, stilling momentarily when his hot spend spilled out, smearing all over your stomachs.
After giving him a moment to catch his breath, you tried to roll off of him but he didn't loosen his grip.
"Just another minute," he said softly into your shoulder. He felt your body relax and he inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent for later. He tilted his head so he faced you and locked his lips with yours, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. But you didn't allow it for long. You never did.
"Joel," you murmured against his mouth, pulling away and pushing yourself up. He sighed and let you go, watching as you stood on shaky legs to enter his bathroom and clean yourself up. You handed him the wet towel before collecting your clothes from the floor, holding up your mangled underwear with one finger and giving him a look. He chuckled as he wiped his stomach and shrugged.
You rolled your eyes and turned around so he didn't see the smile on your face as you got dressed. His eyes raked up and down your body for a moment before he said, "you don't gotta leave, y'know."
"I have patrol in the morning."
"So?"
"So I need to get some sleep," you said, pulling your shirt on and fixing your hair. He was really growing to hate this part. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow," you added over your shoulder as you headed towards his door. He didn't respond. He just watched you leave, a slow smile pulling at his lips because even though you acted indifferent towards him, the fact remained that you were jealous of another woman giving him attention, and that had to mean something.
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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.
steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.
eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.
so steve is all over eddie, it seems.
at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.
so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.
robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?
eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.
it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?
- robin and steve
“Steve.”
“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“
“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…
Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”
To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”
“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.
“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”
“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“
“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”
To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.
“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.
“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”
“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“
“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.
“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”
She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.
He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.
After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.
“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”
He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.
“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“
“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.
“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“
“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”
Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.
“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”
“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”
“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
- later. steve’s house. to be continued?
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lady-ashfade · 11 months
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Bound By Birth
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The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.
Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.
Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!
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Aemond Targaryen
As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.
From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.
We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.
Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.
Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.
But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.
No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.
Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.
He swears one day he would protect you.
Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.
When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.
But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.
Female twin:
Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.
Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.
He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.
After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.
Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.
Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.
Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.
Male twin
Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.
When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.
When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.
Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.
He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.
You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.
He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.
Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.
You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.
Lucerys Velaryon
As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.
Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.
I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.
Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.
He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.
When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.
Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.
He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.
Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone. 
He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.
He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.
He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.
Male twin:
He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.
He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.
You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.
You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.
Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.
Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.
But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.
Female reader.
Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.
Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.
Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.
Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.
Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.
Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”
Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.
You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.
Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.
Jacaerys Velaryon
He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.
Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.
He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.
Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.
Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.
He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.
Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.
“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”
Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.
Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.
Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.
Older him is just as bad if not more.
Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.
Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.
Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.
He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.
But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.
Male twin
You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.
From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.
Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.
Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.
After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.
Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.
You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like
“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”
Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.
Matching outfits with you.
Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.
Female twin
Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.
Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.
Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.
Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.
Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.
Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.
While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.
He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.
Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.
He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.
Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.
3K notes · View notes
hyewka · 11 months
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can i suggest a fic where beomgyu is helping take the reader’s mind off a bad breakup…. by fucking the living SHIT out of her NDJDNDJDJDJ
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while i fuck you straight | c.bg
warnings; hard dom best friend!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected + pullout method, breeding kink, a spank or two, praise + degradation (mostly praise), slut shaming, rough marking, a tinge of possessiveness, friends w/ benefits, no romantic feelings involved (or are there?), ruined orgasm, princess pet name, beomgyus an insatiable manwhore lol, needy perv gyu with a lot of spit play, fingering, titty sucking hehe, literal messy filth and also barely proofread on my end
a/n; have to thank jazmine with all my heart for proof reading and giving suggestions, i love you so much 😭 @heart2beom this shouldn’t be a big deal as it is, but it is my first time writing full on dom beomgyu so it is this mini celebration for me and all the dom!gyu enthusiasts (i hope) 😇 reblogs are appreciated, keeps me going
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You held your phone above your face, scrolling mindlessly through your socials, though subconsciously, you were really just awaiting a call from your boyfriend. Well, now ex-boyfriend. It's already been a week since you got dumped but no matter what went down that day, you couldn't get over him.
It was pitiful every time you jumped up from your bed at a notification just to find it was in fact not your ex asking to take you back and ...just a random spam email.
Beomgyu had his back against your bed, legs sprawled on the floor, also on his phone. You guys had run out of things to talk about when every conversation spun its way back to your ex- Seen that new avengers movie? You wanted to watch it with your boyfriend. That professor just got fired! You remember your boyfriend used to complain about that class. Gosh, you don’t think you’ll ever get over him.
"You're miserable." Beomgyu suddenly brings up.
You groan, as you repeatedly refresh your feed. "Gee, thanks Beomgyu. That definitely doesn't make me ten times more miserable."
He lets his head fall back on your bed, looking up at you through an upside down lens, abandoning his phone. “No, like truly miserable. I’ve never seen you so up and dry and…sober. Be young, live a little.”
You narrow your eyes at him, looking past your phone for the past time in a while. “…You talk like you’re 80 years old, about to retire and wallow in self pity, having experienced all there is to life. Thanks Gyu but no thanks.”
“I’m an old soul Y/N.” He says patting his chest, and you roll your eyes. Not necessarily refuting it, it’s his entire personality. “Where’s the chick I used to know anyway. The old Y/N would’ve been over this in a day with a quick hookup rebound.”
You finally put your phone down, staring up your ceiling. He was totally right. Who else would be right about you if not Beomgyu? But you don’t want to think about your old self, or you’d start sobbing again. Not like you were a totally great person, but that person wouldn’t be so stuck on someone. Anything but being the lovesick, doting person you would’ve made fun of just a year ago. God, he really changed you hadn’t he?
You kick your feet, whining, falling into the abyss of treasured memories. “You don’t understand, he was different, he—he was the one, you know?”
He ponders for a bit, room silent, staring at you through his soft lashes, and you think that maybe he’ll give it you; sympathize and understand that grieving was the entire process of a first love. The silence is suffocating when finally, he lets out a light scoff, cutting through it. “No, no I don’t know. Bet you just got soft.”
“God, fuck you Beomgyu.”
He grins his stupid grin that the situation definitely doesn’t call for, “You wish.”
You think if he wasn’t with you through thick and thin for the past four years, you would’ve definitely developed some sort of hatred.
You could visibly notice a lightbulb spark above his head with the way he immediately sits up straight. “Hey, hey wait.”
You tentatively watch as he turns his back away from you, laying both his arms on the soft cushion of your mattress. “I think I might’ve just had the best idea ever. Of the century. The idea of the century.”
“I highly doubt that.” You say, blindly feeling the surface for your phone already.
“Just hear me out,” he whines noticing your eagerness to dismiss him. “But also don’t freak out or anything. Promise me.”
You stare at him, hesitant before you give in to his doe eyes. Sighing, you say: “Okay. I promise I won’t ‘freak’ out. What’s your groundbreaking idea?”
“We should like… fuck.”
Your brows are slow to raise, the rapidness of your blinking at what you think you just heard—no, not think, know. Beomgyu’s voice, loud and clear with his diction, your eyes widen at the final click of it all. Before you know it, you’re reaching for the pillow behind you, flinging it at him with all strength.
It’s like he predicted it prior, dodging one… and then another as you throw all remaining pillows on your bed. Instead of missing with your last one, you decide to hold on to it, and attack him with it. His smug demeanor of successfully dodging everything just a second ago, dissipates as he takes cover for protection. “Are you fucking—are you crazy?!” you yell exapserated, more than awake with your wide eyes.
“Ya! You—you promised you wouldn’t freak out!” When that doesn’t stop your mania with the damn pillow, he decides to lay it all out with as much speed as he can’t seem to escape your wrath. “You want to forget him don’t you? I mean, you should! He dumped you, it’s over! Sulking over him is—Ow! So out of character for you—fuck—I promise a one time fuck would get your mind off him.”
Your pillow is mid air, and Beomgyu opens an eye to peek, hands still in protection mode—you sigh, landing a weak hit on his head before loosening your grip. You do want to forget. You’d do anything to get rid of what you’re feeling. But…
“It—it wouldn’t change anything for me. If that’s a worry. You know that no matter what, you’re my best friend.” He finds his footing, collecting himself, looking at you with intensity you could date back to just a few times over the course of your very long friendship. “Someone I care about. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything. You know that.”
You bite down on your lip, staring at the familiar boy with his familiar brown bed of hair, and his familiar eyes, lips…How fast did he get you to actually give this a thought? Probably a minute or two. Beomgyu had a way with convincing you to do …anything. “I…know. But what if, what if I’m still head over heels in love with him? What if it doesn’t change anything for me?”
A grin gradually takes over his face, one that is once again, not fitting for the situation. “Why—why are you smiling like an idiot? This is—”
“It’ll change.”
You knit your brows together. “What?”
You don’t notice the way Beomgyu’s hand slowly inched to yours but suddenly, his palm was over your hand, squeezing it just a bit. “Having sex with me is a once in a life time opportunity. You’ll forget him. I promise.”
If you weren’t so lost in his eyes, as cliché as it sounds, you would’ve been completely taken out—probably a joke on his sheer confidence because who just says that? But he’s so …hypnotizing as you don’t even take notice of the ‘okay’ that leaves your lips.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” You exhale, “Okay. We’re adults. This won’t matter in a few weeks. Let’s do it.”
Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds before he was on your bed, crashing his lips on yours, a brief taste of strawberry lip balm, knocking a breath out of you until he slows down, testing the waters, then he stops, noses brushing against each other as he searches for something in your eyes, breathing already heavy, “Is this weird? Was that weird?”
You gulp looking down on his already glistening lips, and you nod. “The—the situation, not …the kiss. Fucking your best friend is an odd situation. The kiss…the kiss was good.” You ramble, your voice barely a whisper but he catches it anyway as you take notice of a small smile before he’s kissing you again, hands once cupping your cheeks already moving down to your tits, ministrating gently—every bit of his action seemed careful, too careful for what you know of the things your friends had told you in heated rants and swoons.
Half of the dictionary could be used to describe Beomgyu, and promiscuous was not an exclusion. You could probably say you already fucked him with the headache inducing details about what being with him in bed was like. Which is why you’re nervous as hell right now. From what you know, Beomgyu was… a lot. More than you could handle now, after an entire year of keeping yourself to one man.
“Jaehyun was worried about you. Was worried about what you’d do to me.” You blurt out randomly when Beomgyus’ moved to peppering feathery kisses along your jawline. He hums against your skin, then stops for a second to whisper, “He was?”
You could feel the smirk on his lips, opening his mouth a tiny amount to slightly suck on your neck at the process of your words—of course Beomgyu would get an ego boost from this. “Why?”
Beomgyu is practically suffocating with how little space he’s giving you, body flush against flush, your chest heaving the rougher he increasingly gets with his marking, his sly hand down to rub between your thighs, right at your core.
“Said you only wanted to get into my pants—h-ha shit, slow down, slow down Gyu.” You were getting teary eyed by his increased speed, friction against your sweats getting you wetter by the second whenever the pad of his finger teased your slit. “You know he—he asked me to stop hanging around you b-because—”
None of this was new to Beomgyu, your past boyfriends have always been worried about him for the exact reason—that he’d convince you to let him fuck you, because apparently women can’t have male best friends without it being more than platonic. But …you guess you aren’t really proving them any wrong now with the way you were letting him have his way, marking messy purple splotches all over, in hungry predatory manner, getting rougher and rougher by the second. You gasp when he abuses the same spot he just visited a few seconds ago, “Beomgyu!”
“Because?”
He presses on your aching core, pending you with the question. He didn’t seem as happy as he was with his smugness prior. “Because he thinks you’re a sleaze.”
An incredulous— mean chuckle from the back of his throat and suddenly his hand was down your panties, abandoning the long game of teasing in matter of seconds. He doesn’t touch you though, which only proves to make you more insane. “That’s dumb. Do you think I’m a sleaze?” You shiver, his deep voice so close to your ears, breath fanning against your cool skin—your eyes could go sore from how hard you’re shutting them closed.
You refuse to give it all to him, it makes you feel embarrassed and small. A new, foreign feeling you never thought you’d experience with Beomgyu of all people. “I-in some ways, yes.”
Not a satisfying response from you, he clicks his tongue like you were a misbehaving child, “You’re really annoying, you know that?”
You don’t get a chance to retort before you feel the pad of his finger prodding your pussy, then moving to gather your wetness.
Suddenly, he freezes his movement, pulling back from your neck, looking at you with an amused glint to his dark eyes. “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. And I barely did anything—”
You think he’s making fun of you so your cheeks quickly flush red, already putting up walls of defence but then he kisses you in the heat of the moment, wiping your frown away and you’re finding yourself reciprocating without a second thought—the kiss so sloppy and messy, string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away out of breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot princess. You’re so hot.” He breathes in awe of the spit—he truly is the biggest perv.
“Spread your legs for me.” he groans, trying to get better access to your pussy. You obey, admittedly a little slow, but who can blame you? It feels embarrassing regardless of who, but it’s ten folds with your best friend. “Moreee.” he whines, and god you wish you could slap him—can he not see that you’re trying?
“Beomgyu—“
Your voice gets cut off, gasping when he takes it upon himself to pull down your sweatpants with a quick swift motion, taking it off completely, revealing your patterned underwear—and god, now you’re hiding your face…everything was so embarrassing. He takes a second to examine the wet dark spot right in the middle, proof to what he felt earlier, but then you kick your feet. “Stop staring freak!” you shriek.
You can see through the cracks of your fingers the smirk he has on, looking at you with so much intensity you think you’d melt. He reaches out to grab your hand and put it down, even through your resistance, you couldn’t match his strength to your dismay. “I wanna see your face. Have to let me see you fall apart on my fingers like a little slut.”
You’re scandalized at his wording, your cheeks once again quickly heating up. But you let him part your timid legs anyway, big hands gripping the softness of your thighs, spreading your legs as much as he possibly could, to the point you felt yourself cramp up. But even with whines of protest he doesn’t ease up—bunching your panties to the side, impatient when finally he inserts a digit—experimental with his movement before you hear him groan out a curse. “You’re so tight holy shit, did he even fuck you?”
“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”
Your senses are already overflowing, you could feel his hard on, his erection pressed on your bare skin, you’re hyper aware of the finger inside you—slender and slow with expertise as he pushes in and out, talking to you as if you could respond with anything more than restrained mewls. “Maybe dating him was good, then you had to be monogamous and not whore around with every guy you laid eyes on like you used to.”
“I-I never whored around—shit.” He suddenly speeds up, a merciless grin spread on his face—did he find messing with you funny?
“Yes you did. It was a new guy every…it was weekly, wasn’t it?”
You shake your head at his accusations, tears brimming when his mouth finds it use, suckling harshly on your nipples through your flimsy top—your body extra sensitive with the way you spasm on a singular finger. He pumps in two without warning and you yelp, hand reaching out to grab at his hair. You swear you could cum just from the stretch. “Stop denying it, you’d do anything for dick. I’m surprised you stayed so long with that bitch. Was he any good?”
One thing you won’t do is tell Beomgyu details of your sex life with your ex. You refuse. But Beomgyu is stubborn, and he isn’t one to give up so easily. Especially if he feels like you’re withholding information from him. “Tell me.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
He raises his eyebrows in mocking shock, “No way. He never made you cum?”
Your nostrils flair from pure embarrassment and shock. How’d he know? You quickly try to control your expressions, masking it to not give him a hint that his guess was right, but he knew you too well. You hate that. Especially now.
“Can’t believe you’re hung up on a man—fuck, baby are you close? Hung up on a man that never made you orgasm—shit,” He breathes, rubbing his clothed dick on your thigh, getting off at the sight of your face. You really are falling apart. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.”
You tighten your hold on his hair, feeling yourself get close as you grind down on his fingers, chasing your high, choosing for your sanity to ignore all his sweet talkings.
“Gyu, gyu I-I’m gonna—No—no-why? God, fuck you, you’re such a—such a dickhead!”
Beomgyu just ruined your orgasm by completely taking out his fingers, you could practically cry out of frustration and yet he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. Instead, he makes a show of licking his fingers, the ones he just had in you, swirling his tongue and sucking them clean while making direct eye contact. You cower a little but still keep your eyes on him. Now you aren’t sure if you could stay as bitter.
You blink rapidly to collect yourself, because holy shit, you’re getting weak for…Beomgyu. “Why’d you do that? I was close Gyu.” you say exasperated.
He unbuckles his jeans, “I said I’d take care of you, just trust me.” Zipping down his pants, he’s quick to drop it down to his knees before completely abandoning them on the floor.
He flings his cock out of the restrictions of his boxers and you’re practically drooling at the pretty sight. He isn’t the biggest you’ve seen but he definitely has the girth—his tip leaking pre cum down his length, hands trying to lube it with his spit. “Beomgyu, condom.”
“I don’t have one.” He breathes, already on you as he lays wet kisses down your collarbones before he gets irritated with your shirt and takes it off, revealing your bare tits. “God, you’re so sexy.” He drawls, sucking hickeys all over your chest in hunger.
You wish you didn’t have to, but you resist his touch and in turn he lets out an annoyed whine, his voice vibrating against your exposed skin. “Beomgyu, we can’t—we need a condom.”
He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, the cutest you’ve seen him this entire day. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, I need you right now.”
In that moment of weakness, his tone so needy, as if he really did need you made you feel some sort of power—like you were the hottest, sexiest woman in the world. And so you bite your tongue, and trust Beomgyu to not ruin your life. You’ve done that quite a few times.
“Swear you’ll pull out.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I do.” You say with conviction. “I do, obviously. It’s just-”
“I know. Take a breather for me. Said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”
You could feel him lining up to your entrance, his tip prodding your hole, and you’re already getting desperate. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” you breathe.
“Stick your tongue out.”
You do, not sure what to expect until Beomgyu spits, letting his saliva slowly fall down in your mouth. “Swallow.” he demands, his low voice making you shiver—dark eyes watching every twitch of your face intensely.
You gulp his saliva down your throat, obeying and suddenly his expression morphs into lust you’ve never been met with before. You don’t even get to process it for longer, bask in the attention you’re getting before he’s pressing your thighs to your body, pushing into you with a deep groan—filling you up to the brim, your cunt not prepared for the aching stretch. You can feel each vein against your walls, you can feel his slight twitching, you can feel everything. “Fuck, fuck you’re made for me. You’re perfect—shit, you’re perfect princess.”
“Gyu—” you cry out, gripping the sheets under you. It was too much, too much for him to already start slamming his hips. “Gyu what—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hits your g-spot, your face scrunched up, hot as you let out lewd sounds with no control of your own, throat strained already. It's not a surprise he manages to find it on his first try, despite it catching you off guard with the sudden wave of pleasure.
“Should’ve fucked you sooner. Get your little pussy molded just for my dick. You would’ve liked that, right princess?” He breathes out in a long winded babble, his hips unrelenting with each thrust, already quickly building up to be in erratic speed. Through your blurry vision you could see his eyes focusing down on the jiggle of your breasts lewdly, drool trickling down the edge of his lips, the brutal slapping sounds of them from his roughness getting his head light with ecstasy. You’re more than aware of what he wanted to do when he lets your legs rest from the ache of angling them so high. Dirty pervert.
You can’t handle him playing with your tits again, you were too sensitive for anything more than you’re getting but you can’t find it in your throat to say anything before Beomgyu gives in to his lust, leaning down to attach his mouth to your sore nipple. Abusing it as he suckles harshly, muffled moans against your breasts.
His pace getting quicker, clearly getting off from sucking your nipples like a dumb baby. It was getting you embarrassingly close, your pussy clenching around his dick. “Princess. My princess is so—mmf—so perfect.”
“Stop calling me that.” You manage to squeak out. Hes been using that nickname the entire time, and though it was easy to ignore everything else, the nickname was affecting you more than you’d like to admit.
He detaches from your tits, slowing his movement, looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh? Princess? Why?”
“He—he used to.”
He blinks a few times before his lips draw into a sneer, clearly irritated and you’re about to backtrack, but it’s too late. Your eyes fly wide open, breath stricken when he, with no mercy, picks up his speed again, drilling his dick so far into you, you think there’s probably a bulge showing through your stomach—its when you let the tears stream down, let yourself go as he fucks you dumb with each sharp thrust serving as a punishment. But for what exactly? For mentioning your ex? Did he hate him that much?
“You can replace your memories of him with me princess. I know you can do that, I’ll make sure you do. You’re my princess, and I’m the only one who can call you that. Remember that, yea?”
You nod up and down, and he leans down to give your lips a peck, one then two then three until he loses it and it starts getting heated, tongue messily intertwining, spit exchanged in desperate action. Drilling his dick in and out your sopping pussy, squelching pornographic like sounds filling the room—you think you’re screaming at this point, mind too clouded to be fully present. You’ll definitely hear a word or two from your neighbors.
“Fuck princess, are you close?” he hisses, “I’m close too, so close. Tell me when you get there baby, okay?”
You manage to nod, pressure quickly building up
Suddenly you feel him force in a finger in your pussy, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. “B-beomgyu—I’m cumming, I’m—” your panicked hands at the intense feeling reach out to grab at his chest, crumbling his shirt’s fabric, using the last bit of your strained voice to moan his name, your orgasm so overwhelming you genuinely start seeing white, body shaking as you try to calm yourself down. “F-fuck.” you breathe out.
The way you still clutch onto his arms pushes Beomgyu to his high too, quick to pull out of your gushing pussy before a mistake happened. It takes only two strokes before he’s spurting his seed all over your tummy, biting down a groan, obsessively taking in each inch of your body’s ruined state.
He did this. He ruined you.
The only thing filling the room being the heavy breaths of you both, Beomgyu’s hair plastered onto his forehead from sweat, yours disheveled, a complete mess. Suddenly, a notification ding goes off, and your attention’s snapped to your side. “It’s my phone.” You awkwardly point out, noticing the light before reaching your arm to get it to you.
He doesn’t move from his position, still practically hovering over you. But you try not to focus too much on it, instead taking a quick look at your notification.
Your brows twitch in surprise at seeing the message on your lock screen. Fuck, it’s your ex! Did he want you back? So miraculously? After fucking your best friend?
Without any thought, you unlock your phone, trying to skim where the ellipses left off. It was a long message and—
“We just fucked. Can’t you wait a few minutes before going on your phone— Are you texting Jaehyun?” His warm smile turning to utter rage gets you stuttering.
“No I—well—yes, but—” you fumble on your words, not knowing how to explain—not knowing why you feel like you should explain, but Beomgyu isn’t one to play around clearly, as he snatches your phone from your hand and throws it to god knows where before your body’s turned around like it was nothing to Beomgyu, like you were some ragdoll. Pushing your hips up to have your ass up in the air with your face pushed into the sheets. “B-beomgyu wha..—”
Slap. Your whole body jerks at the impact of his hand, feeling yourself get teary eyed again. “Beomgyu what the hell?” You shriek, trying to squirm from your position, your ass burning. Then you get another slap, and your legs start to shake, bottom lip wobbling at the painful feeling of his rings.
“I promised you I’d make you forget him. Clearly one fuck wasn’t enough to get your mind off that asshole.”
Your panic only lasts a millisecond at feeling his tip for a second time before you’re abusing your throat again at the oversensitivity of having Beomgyu’s dick slam into your pussy, fucking your juices back in. He’s rougher now, ten times rougher. Maybe this was what all your girlfriends were describing to you, the feeling of having Beomgyu’s dick rut into you like wild feverish dog, fucking you like all you are is a pair of limbs, just for him to hound.
You can’t think straight, not a single word coming out of your mouth is intelligible, all slurred together dumbly as he ruthlessly digs his fingers in your hips, helping you find rhythm, your body reacting on its own as it syncs with his thrusts, moving your hips enough for him to let a hand go to the back of your head, further pushing you into the mattress, drool messy staining your white sheets, loud muffled wails filling the room.
“Fuck, you like this don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch?” your hear him growl. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth, you don’t know anything right now, because you are being fucked like a bitch while thinking like one too, your nose running with your tongue uselessly out like something out of a porno. “Should I breed you like a bitch too? Huh? Will that make your pretty little head forget?”
At that, you cum again, and he sneers, a mean laugh at noticing your orgasm, “You want me to breed you princess? Make you round with my seed?” he drawls each vowel mockingly like you were a dumb kitten and he had to explain a really simple concept—still ramming your cunt, not giving you a fair chance of responding.
That’s how it goes for you’re not sure how long, Beomgyu switching positions to have your leg draped over his shoulder as he fucks you to oblivion, making you orgasm over and over again, before you really feel like you had blacken out at some point only to find yourself waking up to him still going at it—your entire body sore, down to every inch, your nipples especially swollen from all his sucking. He never cums inside you, instead emptying his load all over your body, making you basically a show of his dried semen.
You trust him, even when his tendency to go far never died down no matter how much he got older. “You awake?”
You flutter your eyes open, a dark room, and Beomgyu. His face is abnormally close to yours. “What happened?” your voice comes out very strained, your throat hard to use. Great, you entirely lost your voice.
“Think I might’ve had my balls in…too deep.”
Even a chuckle hurts every bone in your body, holy shit, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?! “Hey, don’t move around too much, I already cleaned you up. Just try to go back to sleep.”
“I don’t feel sleepy. I can’t.”
Beomgyu suddenly giggles, you could make out the cute small thing he does with his lips when he does. “What?” you ask.
“Your voice sounds funny.”
You groan, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d find it funny. Maybe next time you should peg his ass and see how he’d like to not speak for an entire week.
You feel his all too familiar hand laying on your cheek, and you subtly gulp. You don’t know if he heard. He probably did with how close you guys are, noses practically brushing against each other, his breathing all your hearing can pick up. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”
You nod, until you realize he might not be able to see you properly. “Yes.”
“Good.”
He takes his hand off your cheek, then turns on his back, folding his arms over his chest, staring up the ceiling. So the room won’t fall into an awkward silence, you say: “I have a question.”
He shuffles a little on the bed, letting out a hum in acknowledgment. “What was the I’m perfect for you thing about? We’re definitely not like, compatible or anything.”
He laughs before he turns his head to you in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that a serious question?”
You nod, “Do I not sound serious?”
“No, you sound like you just had the best fuck of your life.” You roll your eyes in good nature, though exasperated, you were exposed to too much of his ego in one day. If you had the strength and will to come up with something to level his ego down, you would. “It’s called dirty talk if you must know the term fair maiden.”
“God, you’re so silly, I’m going to sleep.” You withstand your pain to turn your back to him, groaning with each movement. But you can’t escape his wrath it seems, because he almost immediately snakes his arm around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, his heartbeat all you can here against your back. “Can’t I find you perfect? You know, like…my dream girl. My princess.”
You rapidly blink a few times trying to process—past the deep rasp of his tired voice that you found yourself incredibly attracted to— his words and how it brewed big unfamiliar emotions, knowing now you won’t be able to get a blink of sleep after this.
“Can I keep calling you that by the way? It really sticks.”
Oh god, the last thing you’re going to do is self sabotage yourself even more and get yourself in a stickier situation than you already put yourself in. “No, that’s definitely staying in the bedroom.”
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a/n: i have no idea how this reads, its basically bare of any editing so if the flow is a little choppy i sincerely apologize, i write at the golden time of 10pm-2am 😭
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itstheghostofmypast · 3 months
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Must Be Love
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Corporate Worker San x (F)Reader
Summary: Love, is an emotion so deep that once earned, it could change lives. Unfortunately, neither of the two had ever had the opportunity to feel love. Well, maybe he had, but having his heart thrown back at him, made him realise that the corporate world was far too busy, far too bitter and far too cold for a hardworking boy from Namhae- it was about time he accepted the bitter taste of reality.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff
Warnings: Languages/ Insecurities (majorly of being alone)
Word Count: 21k
Est. Read Time: 1 hr
Rating: nc-17
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
Banner: @cafekitsune
A/N: Only God and @edenesth know how this was supposed to be a timestamp, that turned into a oneshot that is so long- that I- I swear I don't even know why San has me in a chokehold.
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"All I'm saying is that speed dating does work for some people." The brunette claimed entering the elevator with the taller man who shook his head with a pout, pressing the parking button. Sure, speed dating worked for a few people, but those few people were rarely introverts, moreover, he did not have time for love. Love was a luxury he could not afford, especially after his last encounter with the villain, he believed that distancing himself from it would keep him safe, and keep him from hurting.
"Yeah...just not my thing," he mumbled, stepping out onto the concrete floor, their polished shoes scraping against the cement, echoing in the enormous parking lot. Sighing he looked over the fence, frowning at the jam below, "I hate Mondays", muttering to himself he turned to wave off Yeosang who smiled at him, before ducking down to enter his car, lowering the window once the engine was switched on, "I'm just saying San, you can't let her get to you forever."
"See you tomorrow Yeosang." with one final wave his friend drove off, as the man himself, got into his car, buckled up and decided to speed out, it didn't matter anyway, he'd be stuck in traffic but at least it'll be quick, it was already 9 pm, the sooner he could go home, the sooner he'd be in bed, ready to succumb to the solitude and silence at his apartment. 
Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, it was already 11 pm. Cursing under his breath he walked out of the elevator, so exhausted, so tired, so done with everything. A constant ringing in his ears only added to the discomfort, as he squinted at the hallway lights. Making his way down his corridor he reached his door until pausing, turning his head to find someone sitting at the door next to his, hugging her knees- was she...crying? All too suddenly the ringing disappeared, the lights around him became much bearable, the dull greys around him morphing into something else- San, stop. Clearing his throat, he looked at her, trying to get her attention, which he only got once he 'fake' coughed.
His curious gaze met with glossy doe eyes, and a tear-stained face stared up at him. Unknown to him, she had just come to the realisation that God really did do people favours, and one of those favours was creating a being like the one standing above her, with a gaze so soft she could almost feel it, his features sharp as a feline and not to mention those shoulders, damn what a beauty. She watched him blink at her slowly before turning around and- oh. He went inside.... wow.
With a snort, she shook her head-that was anti-climactic. Of course, why would anyone even want to deal with her, especially someone like him?
San closed the door behind him, slowly walked over to the console table, and stopped to stare at his reflection, God he looked like a mess, no wonder she was staring at him like that. Running his fingers through his hair, he sleeked back his bangs, trying to calm down his nest of hair before fixing his tie and opening the door to find her in the same place, walking over to her as he cleared his throat.
"Excuse me Ma'am-" he began, pausing when she looked up at him with a frown, man, he wasn't good-looking, but he wasn't that ugly either.
"I lost my key." 
"You- what?" quirking a brow he stared at her before looking at the numerous bags and suitcases beside her, how exactly did he not notice these before? 
"I moved in today...lost my key and the landlord is out of town," mumbling she hugged her knees tighter looking away from him, frowning at the tiled floor, waiting for something, a backhanded compliment, an insult, a taunt, something to remind her of her ignorance and lack of competence. 
Sighing he rubbed his face, before staring at the door, looking at the lock pad, moving closer he stood right beside her, glancing down at her, though she was still staring ahead, frowning like a child put in time out shaking his head he began pressing the numbers on the keypad, resetting the door's lock- knowing this was no longer a used apartment, it had a generic code from number one to five, he was confused why the landlord had decided to not tell her this. On the other hand, this was common knowledge, but then again, he didn't know these things when he started, a fresh graduate with the hopes of stepping into the world with a will to change stuff- that is until the corporate world put him back in his place.
The beeping caught her attention, side eying him, most of her vision just comprised of his pant leg, craning her neck upwards, she met with the gaze of an angel, giving her a small smile as the light behind him glowed in all in angelic mercy. Was he...bipolar?
"I've reset it. Please change the passcode once you settle in."
With that he walked away, leaving her sitting there, grateful yet so confused, his calm demeanour just putting her anxiousness at bay. The soft click of his door brought her back to reality, clearing her throat she stood up, dusting her clothes she made her way to his door, clearing her throat, trying to fix her hair before ringing the doorbell.
San was almost done unbuttoning his shirt when the doorbell rang, as he paused, groaning in disdain the man glanced at the clock, it was almost midnight, what on earth did the world want from him now? Messily buttoning it back up he padded to the door barefoot, his tie hanging around his neck, annoyed at the pestering dinging of the bell as he swung the door open, glaring at whoever was rude enough to ruin his few moments of silence and bliss.
"Th-oh- sorry." she stammered, averting her gaze before bowing and thanking him, mumbling her name and scurrying away through her open door, slamming it shut, her things still outside. He stared at her, what a peculiar woman, what was her problem? Glancing down he realised most of his shirt was still unbuttoned- oh…well technically he was wearing a vest- shit did she think he was weird? A pervert? Great going Choi San. Sighing for the nth time of the night he closed the door, finally deciding to go to bed and forget whatever embarrassing things he had done tonight.
Leaning her ear against the door she weighed for it to close, praying to any entity out there that he did not assume she was weird or a perv. It's not like this was the first time she'd seen a man and technically he was still fully clothed so- God, Jongho was right, she's been single for too long. A good ten minutes later she cracked open the door, leaning out to glance at her neighbour's door, apartment number 404, well then, at least he was gone, she could pull in her stuff without any interruptions. 
.
"You traumatised- no, you harassed a woman," Yeosang mumbled, coat in hand as he entered the elevator, San following in behind, San who was also late today, San who had rushed to work today, forgetting both, his laptop at home and his coat.
"I did not." he sighed, staring at his reflection, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night - or any other of the previous nights for that matter. Usually, when he'd lay down, his body would be exhausted, but an hour in all he'd do was toss and turn restlessly, blanketed by something else, something heavy and blue, at this point he had no clue as to what to do. The room would just end up getting stuffy and within a few hours, he'd slip out of bed, have a cup of coffee, shower, change, try to eat something, anything so he could function and leave like he had a whole eight hours of sleep.
"Should've asked her how she lost the key though." the other man hummed, pressing the buttons of their floors, eying his friend who was now leaning his head against the wall, eyes closed with a pout.
"No."
"No?"
"No, she was already upset, who cares how she lost them." he sighed, straightening up once the door opened, "Didn't feel like adding salt to the wound."
"Aww...my stoic Mr.Choi is so considerate." he teased, patting the back of his friend who rolled his shoulders, before walking out, mumbling a, "I'll just take Mingi's jacket- don't bother coming by!' he turned around swiftly to point at Yeosang, who stood there behind the open doors, waving at him, "Whatever you say...." waiting for the doors too almost close for the punchline, "Perv."
.
"Will you be going out for lunch today, Sir?" Mingi asked, fingers frozen above the keyboard, peaking through his glasses as he stared at San who was locking the glass door to his office.
"Yeah...want something?" the man turned to look at his secretary - assistant, mind you- who shook his head, "Enjoy your lunch, Sir." with that he went back to typing up the due report - one that was due a day ago, he was just glad San hadn't realised that yet.
Shaking his head San sighed, "Mingi, my man, you gotta stop calling me Sir." stuffing his hands in his pockets he looked around the almost empty floor, "Also, I've submitted the report." his words caused the taller man to freeze, his curious eyes locking with a tired, blank pair, an apology simmering at the tip of his tongue but the man raised his hand to stop him, "Just...tell me next time." 
"Yes Sir."
"Creme croissant and a latte, right?" he asked as he began to walk away, being nothing more than a hero- no, an angel, for Song Mingi, oh how he wished everyone had a boss like his. Standing up and bowing a good 90 degrees he kept thanking the man until the elevator doors closed.
.
Grimacing at the bitter taste of his coffee he walked down the street, frowning at almost everything. The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, there was too much traffic and lunch hour was packed. Holding onto the paper bag of Mingi's lunch he bit the end of the straw, staring into the windows of the shops he passed by. Why did these people look so happy? Did they not have work? What did they have that he did not?
Too lost in thought he collided with someone, though little damage was done to him, other than dropping Mingi's lunch, his coffee was fine, and so was his shirt. Sighing in relief he turned to look at the person who had ended up on the floor, about to apologise he paused, "Oh...it's you."
Falling on your butt is one of the worse things known to man or woman in her case, truth be told she hadn't seen the man, especially because of the boxes that she was holding, they were heavy and if Jongho didn't think that rock-paper-scissors was not the best solution for any problem, especially when it meant carrying heavy objects, she wouldn’t be here. She was picking up the cups that fell out of the box, luckily the one with the spoons and forks was taped up, mumbling an apology to the person before spotting the soiled package- shit.
"I'm so sorry-" she was cut off by his statement, staring up at him, oh shit. Clearing her throat she nodded before standing up, patting the dust off her clothes and apologising, "I-I'm sorry I didn't see you there. " He was about to say it's okay please stop apologising but before he could she reached for his feet causing him to bounce back only to realise she was reaching for what remained of Mingi's lunch.
"I- I'm so sorry, I'll get you a new one." she said placing it on the boxes and trying to pick them up, though he reached for them before she could, picking them up, "Please stop apologising. It's alright, you don't have to," he said as he looked at her from over the boxes. Wow, he makes the boxes look small, what else can he pick up?
"No, please you don't have to help me, I can carry them." she said trying to reach for them but he shook his head, nodding in the opposite direction, "Where were headed?"
"LET ME MAKE YOU LUNCH" 
The two stared at each other, her words causing the two to stare at each other before he cleared his throat, averting his gaze and she shook her head trying to explain, "I mean for the one I dropped, I have a cafe- technically it's not open yet but you-you can be the first official nonofficial customer."
"Ah...okay," whispering he turned to look at her again and nodded, following her as she began to speed walk in the direction of his office- oh it was close by? They stopped at a closed shop just a block away, the windows covered with newspapers, including the glass door. Craning his neck back he stared at the name, a giant board of the name - oh it's a cafe? 'Jiyuu'.
Freedom, huh? He followed her inside, only to abruptly stop when she turned around "I can hold it-"
"Just tell me where to keep it,” he asked before walking towards the dusty counter, placing the boxes on it and turning to her but she zoomed into the kitchen mumbling, a 'Please stay here, I'll be right back'. 
He stood there, idle, hands in his pockets, staring around the semi-decorated place, wasn't shabby, and wasn't over the top modern as well. It was close to his work too, maybe he'd try the coffee here. Speaking of coffee, how did a simple cafe owner- one that was still closed- afford an apartment like his? Someone cleared their throat, earning his attention. 
"Here you go," she mumbled, "Sorry again." handing him the paper bag- it was bigger than the one he had for Mingi.
"Thank you." nodding at her he pouted, "I told you, it's okay." with that the two stood there, awkwardly standing, staring at anything but each other, the hustle and bustle of outside muffled through the newspaper-covered glass windows, the golden glow just adding to the calm atmosphere. He hadn't felt like this in a while he had not been able to hear his thoughts in a good while, it bothered him, the slow atmosphere, there was no rush, and even time had a pace of its own. A melancholic serenity, he was slowly beginning to enjoy until his phone rang, causing him to jerk back to reality, only to realise she was busy unboxing, when did she move away? Did she just let him stand there, staring at the wall? 
"I- thanks again." clearing his throat he nodded at her, earning a gentle smile, "Thank you too." with that he quickly made his exit.
That day, Mingi received more than just a croissant and a latte, he got a whole Danish pastry, a cold coffee and more assorted baked items- No, San did not tell him how he got them, he just told him it was his treat. That day, San had finally witnessed something, felt something so similar that he felt goosebumps, felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand, yet, other than his internal conflict, the world around him was at a pace so strange, one that was slowly pulling him in, something he was deathly afraid of, yet, he welcomed it, just a little bit. That day she finally made a friend, other than Jongho, even if it were comprised of him just being nice to her, she'd accept that, everyone was falling in love, and at least she was no longer falling behind.
.
A week, it had just been a week since the two had come to know about their existence and he had realised how even though he'd address her with her first name she'd use Mr.Choi. Perhaps she would do so out of respect, or perhaps she was scared of him. Either way, what he did not expect was for her to knock on his door, drenched to the bone, shivering as she tried to give him that usual smile 'Everything is A-okay!'. He could see right through it, and even though he had decided to not meddle in others' affairs, he still somehow found her sitting on his couch, clutching onto a mug of tea, one of his spare towels wrapped around her shoulders.
That is not what baffled him, what truly amazed him was how this strange woman just barged into his apartment, wet as a cat caught in the rain and had brought up a proposition, much similar to the one Yeosang would bring to the table during the yearly board meetings, making San want to strangle him most of the time.
"So, in reality, you want me to drop you off at your place of work and you'll pay me...with coffee?" He asked, watching her sit on his extremely expensive leather couch, sleek black, matching the monochromatic theme of his living room, and her damp clothes were not doing the leather any favours.
"Yes- I mean, No- I mean a coffee and something to eat, whatever you like! I read that business and corporate people love a good brew and I'll be targeting them too so-" she went on and on, playing with the hem of her damp cardigan, but he raised a hand to stop her, her eyes widening at the gesture, oh god, was he going to throw her out? Jongho did tell her that this was a bad idea.
"Why are your clothes wet?"
"O-oh." her face flushed at the question, her gaze flickering to her lap as she cleared her throat, "It started raining on my way back...and I didn't have an umbrella."
"But the forecast.... mentioned it." he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before stopping to glare at her, "Did you not take one or did you forget it at the cafe?" his words were cold, but held some form of warmth to them, though his hard glare softened at her meek response.
"I left it at work, Mr.Choi."
"Go home." was all he said as he stood up and walked over to the main door, turning to catch her staring at him with wide glossy eyes, of course, she wouldn't get the hint, "We leave at sharp 6 am”.
.
"So... this is just what neighbours do?" Yeosang glanced up from the documents, of course San had blocked the funds for the marketing department, this man's sulking was affecting his work ethic too- by work ethic, he meant how he was holding Yeosang's big marketing plans.
"Hmm? Oh yeah...I guess, why?" he asked still reading through the other proposals, not really thinking about it or her. Honestly, he had assumed she would've tapped out within a week, though this past month he was impressed by her persistence. Some days he'd just step foot outside to find her standing in front of her own door, holding onto her handbag, only to smile at him. How on earth was she able to pull off the heart-stopping smile early in the morning? He still didn't know how, he'd just nod silently, sometimes mumbling a good morning, but his lips wouldn't quirk up the slightest.
She'd followed him silently, usually not speaking unless spoken to, but he could sense that she had many stories to tell, but perhaps his heart was already too full, sinking into this blue and her stories and words would just ruin any chances he'd have to stay afloat. Hence, they'd only exchange pleasantries when he'd see fit, but he'd thank her, every time he'd drop her and she'd ask him to stay for a minute, only to run inside with her things and come back running with a coffee and a paper bag. Each day it would comprise of something new, and she'd just say it's her trying new recipes, though she never made the coffee, it was made by him, someone named Jongho, he didn't know much about Jongho, only that he played a vital role in her life- so she had someone too, even if potential. And for once he was glad to have kept his walls up high as he had, though this silent pitter patter of his heart, from every time she'd smile at him annoyed him, every time she whispered before closing the door, " Have a good day, Mr.Choi", it just made the pound of flesh in him shiver with an unwanted excitement.
"San?"
"Huh?"
Clicking his tongue, Yeosang leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he scanned the man across the table. His shirts were pressed to the crisp, his usual four-in-hand tie knot, now a full-blown Windsor knot, he'd brought back the waistcoat as well, a choice that was long discarded and his hair, gelled back to perfection—definitely just neighbours. 
"What~" he whined, slumping against the chair, almost like a child throwing a fit, a side only Yeosang would see, usually he'd mock him, but he knew San got like this when he was bound by one of his man internally conflicts, which is why he chose to keep the observation to himself and nod at the clock, "Your neighbour must be waiting, it’s almost time."
"What- oh yeah." nodding he quickly grabbed his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder, almost out the door before he stopped and turned around, "Yeo?"
"Hmmm?"
"Re-evaluate and send in the budget again."
"F*ck you, Choi."
.
"So..." she asked, looking around the interior of his car, "Nice car." Must've cost a lot is what she wanted to say next, but knowing him, he would've asked her to get out at that very moment- incorrect, Choi San couldn't even glare at her properly, let alone tell her to walk home.
"Thank you..." he mumbled, driving onto the main road, not really knowing how to continue the conversation, Yeosang would've made fun of him, telling him he couldn't even do 'small talk', but it's not like he had much in common with her, other than working near each other and living in the same building, on the same floor.
"I uh...thank you for dropping me home." she tried to push onto the subject, maybe he'd talk to her if she pestered him, that's how she had gotten Jongho to become her friend- not the best tactic, but it had worked once, why wouldn't it again?
"No problem." his responses were short, again, not out of malice, he just didn't know what to say to her, with his sister, it usually comprised of him being a baby to her or her bossing him around but that was different, they were siblings, they could argue about stupid things and get over it, but with her- she was...different, she was soft, she was sensitive and delicate, like a butterfly on a flower. Though she'd be one of those he'd avoid, not wanting to fall into its beauty and grace, too distracted to take note of the world around him. No longer was he willing to fall, or at least imagine to do so.
Parking the car he cleared his throat, waiting for her to move, but he was greeted by silence. What the hell- he turned to find her asleep, hugging her purse close, leaning against the door. 
If this was extremely dangerous and careless of her, he might have found it cute- why on earth- HOW COULD SHE JUST FALL ASLEEP LIKE THIS? What does he do? Does he tap her shoulder? Shake her? Wouldn't that be touching her without consent? Should he call her by her name? Yes, he should, and with that intention he had turned to her once more, only to notice the small frown etched on her features, she looked.... tired.
Jerking awake she sat up properly, blowing the hair out of her face, blinking around, where- was she in the car? Whipping her head to look at the driver's seat she found him sitting there, tying away on his phone, his hair a bit dishevelled but everything else was pristine about him, as it was in the morning. His face was illuminated by the blue light, only accentuating his sharp features, to this day she wondered how someone like him would even bother talking to her.
"Good morning" he turned to look at her, catching her mid-stare, as she choked on her words, about to blurt out an apology but he cut her off, "Don't apologise, it’s something I did by choice, anyway, I got through with most of my emails for the day now so that's good. " He locked his phone before finally switching off the car- he was wasting gas for her? "Did you rest well?" 
She could only nod at his question, as he got out and closed the door, she clumsily followed after clutching onto her things as he made his way to the elevator, locking the car, the beep echoing across the parking lot.
He held the doors open for her, waiting for her to run in as she placed her handbag down, turning to him with a pout, only to be met by a frown- was he angry? Of course, he was, but he did say he stated by choice so why did he-
"Do you realise how dangerous that was? Falling asleep in someone else's car?" his words were direct, cold to the brim, "It's extremely foolish. Just because we know each other doesn't mean you can do that! We're just neighbours, nothing more and even if we are carpooling this isn't safe. Would you do the same in an Uber or a bus? Do you realise this is just carelessness? It's just not how you live in the city or elsewhere for that matter-" he spat, turning to meet her with an intense glare, only to lock eyes with a misty pair, pausing when she dipped her head, "I'm sorry, I know. " 
"I-I'll be careful next time. Mr.Choi." whispered, her fingers gripping the leather of her bag, he was right, they were just neighbours, nothing more, nothing less, more importantly, this formal arrangement of carpooling was only temporary, maybe she should just take the bus from now on. Jongho was wrong, she wasn't mature enough for this, and she couldn't do this on her own, her fiancé was right, she was childish and clumsy, a little girl living in a fool's paradise at best, too used to being a daddy's little princess. 
San watched her walk out of the elevator, though he was too petrified to say anything, his own reaction had confused him. Why was he so upset? He was the one who let her sleep? It wasn't like him to raise his voice like this, especially at someone he would compare to a butterfly. What was wrong with him? He was never this bitter. Just like that, he watched her walk into her apartment, the soft click signalling her to lock it. No, he did not receive the usual "Goodnight Mr.Choi."
But then again, did he deserve it? With a heavy sigh, he closed the door, staring at his empty apartment, feeling...guilty? Well, he did just...it wasn't wrong but...groaning in defeat he turned around and walked out of his apartment slamming the door shut behind him.
.
 Pushing up her glasses she frowned at the screen, what kind of schedule was this, all the buses left before sunrise, way before San would even leave, and they’d leave later as well. In addition to those issues, the bus wouldn’t drop or pick her up near the café, the bus stops were around five blocks away from the shop. Groaning she slammed the lid shut, what if she just walked every morning? Maybe she shouldn’t have moved here, leaving her comfort zone, forcing Jongho along with her- he was a fool, he’d always had too much faith in her and that had always been the problem. At this point, she had once again wasted her parents’ money and potentially risked Jongho’s life savings too.
With a heavy sigh, she picked up the laptop and placed it on her desk before coming back to bed, laying back down as she stared up at the ceiling, letting her sullen thoughts lull her to sleep. Only to sit awake when the doorbell rang, looking around her room before it rang again, groaning she laid back down and covered her ears, waiting for it to stop. And it did, much to her pleasure, only the next thing to ring was her phone, she slammed her hand around for it and picked it up without checking the ID, “Jongho I swear if you’re calling me because you have a new brew idea, I’ll stab you with a spork.”
For a second she was met with silence, causing her to pull back and squint at the caller ID, before gasping and pressing it against her ear, “Mr.Choi I’m so so-“
“Sorry? Mhmmm…I know, so am I, please open the door so I can do so formally.”
That night, was the first time she had received a formal apology from a corporate worker, one with a proper 90-degree bow, followed by a soft apology. She opened the door to find him standing there tall before doing so, standing back up and showing her a bag, “I hope you like Chinese takeout.”
“I do.” With that she moved to the side, thanking God that she had cleaned her apartment the day before, asking him to make himself comfortable as she set the table. That night Choi San finally decided to learn a bit about her, not too much, he didn’t want to get involved in anything other than carpooling, this dinner was just a mere apology for his sudden outburst anyway. He looked around the lounge, the comfortable sofa was different from his, well most of this place was, it had colour, little trinkets that represented who she was, by the window were some succulents, but there was no television to be found, weird.
Once the table was set the two began to eat quietly, that is until she began, “You didn’t have to get dinner Mr Choi, and it's too much-
“I did.” He cut her off, clearing his throat to continue, “I…my outburst was uncalled for, I know it may seem confusing, but I wasn’t upset that you fell asleep, I was …concerned for your safety, I know you just moved here…but I…” he trailed off, especially at the way she was looking at him, like a kid staring at superman, he felt small under her intense stare, no, he wasn’t who she thought he was, he was no saint, he was no saviour, he was no one special. Shaking off the feeling, he mumbled, trying to change the topic, “Why did you move here anyway?” This was a bad move, he had asked something personal, he should’ve just asked her how he liked it here or how was work going, this question just meant that the answer would get him inside for her life, insight, he perhaps could function without.
Unfortunately, after a few stories in he was hooked, the finance director was up till midnight, not because of his work, no, because one story led to another and he listened intently, letting her do all the talking, perhaps because he wanted her to feel as if she was heard, or perhaps her story sparked some form of joy.
"Lee Soohyuk?" he choked on his lettuce wrap, thanking her when she handed him a can of soda. Gulping it down before clearing his throat as he looked at her, watching her clean her side of the table with a tissue, she was done eating. Or was she not eating in front of him?
"The...the famous corporate lawyer? Damn, I've seen him...once? Twice I think." he blinked at her, noting how she had gone quiet before he gave her a small smile, "He's not that smart you know...he was also wrong." 
"What?" she paused her cleaning session to look at him, "He wasn't though, he was right Mr.Choi, I'll always be my parent's little princess, I can't even function alone, I dragged Jongho in this and lord forgive how his dad invested in med school for him and he ended up becoming a barista because of me- I couldn’t even afford a place of my own- I'm still living in an apartment owned by my parents!" slamming her hands on the table she glared at the food, "He was right, I was useless and immature then, I'm equally useless now, other than Jongho now I depend on you - which I won't I promise I'm looking for a solution but the schedule and drop points are so chaotic and-" her words caught up in her throat, being pushed down by a sob as she slumped back in her chair, pressing her palms over her eyes, no crying, crying is for the weak, for those who are spoiled, for those who give up. Too busy trying to think of what breathing exercises Jongho had taught her, she didn't know when he had come to her, until he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze causing him to peak up at him.
"Well, I don't know what you were like before...but...I won't say you're useless...Mingi was born here but he still rides his cycle here, and lives with a flatmate," pulling his hand away leaning against the table, stuffing his hands in his pockets- too much skinship is bad- "I... have you ever like managed your resources? Like do you have a plan? An agenda or something?" 
Shaking her head she wiped her eyes, sniffing like a little girl who got scolded, "I- I thought of buying this apartment from them....and then...then...I don’t know."
Nodding San smiled at her, "So you do have a plan. You just need some help figuring it out." reaching over for a tissue he plucked some out of the box before handing them to her, "Let's get your priorities organised first. Make a payment plan or something like that, your business started off well, which means you know how to work that out, you just need help in the...other stuff. Take a leap of faith."
"What if I... fall?"
'Then I'll catch you'. 
This is what he had wanted to say that night but chose to smile at her, telling her people learn from their mistakes, no matter how small. Fortunately, she had made a friend that day, one who would guide her through, one who also told her to forget about the bus schedule and that they'd still carpool. Unfortunately for him, he might have stepped into a boundary he was desperately trying to avoid. Either way, Friday night dinners slowly became a tradition, a place of dining alternating, a Friday at his and a Friday at hers- something that when he told Yeosang, all the prince-ly man did was stare at him before leaving the office without another word, ignoring San yelling at him,
"WE'RE ONLY NEIHBOURS! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?? YAH KANG YEOSANG!"
.
Cursing to himself he ran down the stairs, Yeosang's laugh echoing around the staircase, "It's not like you're late for a date!" he yelled only for San to turn and glare at him, stopping dead in his tracks, "I'm late to pick her up from work."
"Ah yes, because her being there makes traffic jams a bit more bearable!" he yelled from the end of the staircase laughing when San flipped him off while driving by.
She stood there, leaning against the ceramic pot, the guard didn't let her in, saying she had to mention who she was here to see and even though she had said Mr.Choi, she really didn't know which department he worked in, which is why she was asked to wait outside.
So, here she was, standing in the middle of the rain with her umbrella, staring at the cars zooming past her, the security guard inside the glass cabin giving her an apologetic smile once in a while.
Sighing she looked at her shoes, the pavement not doing much to stop the water from sliding onto the road. The pavement was getting busier too, most people just got free and as much as she loved the city, she wondered, at any given moment alone if this was a risk worth taking. A slight shove from a passerby had her stumble a few steps forward, stopping right at the edge of the pavement, not even a sorry was thrown in her direction.
She turned to glare at the woman running away in heels before a honk caught her attention, turning to spot the familiar car as it slowed down, the door opening for her as the driver moved back onto his seat, quickly she got in, making sure to close her umbrella and shove a plastic bag around it ungracefully, turning to smile at the driver, "hi-"
"Why are you here?" he spat, frowning at her before flicking on his blinker, "It's raining and I said I'll pick you up no? I didn't say you'd pick me up from work."
Sighing she shook her head, "Sorry Mr.Choi." She said that a lot, more often than either would like, it would make his heart clench every time and Yeosang would call him a bastard every time he'd mention this to him in his daily narratives.
"I- what I mean is...I was a bit late so I texted you, you didn't have to come all the way here and stand in the rain out on the street." his words softer than before, as he stopped at a traffic light, glancing at her from the rear-view mirror, watching her pout.
"I- my phone died...so I didn't know and, I was waiting but then when you didn't come...I was worried...about you so I came here and- "She was worried about him, something within him pulled at his heart, she was waiting for him? But before the feeling could settle in, her usual nonstop chatter began, shaking him out of his fever dream, "What's your department by the way, they wouldn't let me in! Said there were so many Chois! Did you know that!?? I mean Jongho is a Choi too, and then there Choi Minho- he's cute, I like him, I like Shinee...do you?"
"I...." unsure of which question to answer first he frowned before he began to drive shaking his head at her, "I’m the director of the finance department." he sighed earning a chuckle, side-eying her only for her to stop and clear her throat. He nodded at her, ignoring her first half of the statement, though the latter portion had the tips of his turning red.
"Sorry, that would just explain your expensive taste, Mr.Choi...would explain the Windsor knot too." 
.
She stood in front of his door, checking the time once more, it was almost seven and his car was still in the parking lot. Yes, she had run down the flight of stairs to check if he was still there. She had called him too but his phone was switched off so she did the next best thing, called Jongho.
"JONGHO-"
"It's seven- no, wait- listen your monstrosity it’s not even seven yet, what do you WANT." He yelled, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear, whining an apology.
"Mr.Choi won’t answer my calls or open the door what do I do??"
"My poor baby." he cooed at her in a taunting manner, "maybe you finally did to him what the pressure his job couldn’t."
"What? What do you mean?" she asked before deciding to take matters into her own hands.
"Corporate pressure was nothing compared to you, I'm sure he's at peace now-"
"OH, SCREW YOU, I'M IN." with that, she hung up, entered his apartment and marched towards his room- the only place in his apartment she hadn't seen. Knocking on his bedroom door she slowly peeked in, only to be met by a room filled with clothes lying around, the curtains drawn close and the heater on full blast. Stepping in, careful not to step on the clothes she walked over to a heap of blankets on the bed, resting her hand on it as she gently shook it, "Mr.Choi." 
The lack of movement just had her worrying even more, as she leaned closer pressing her ear against the cotton, hearing his laboured breathing, shaking her head she announced, "Mr.Choi, I'm gonna pull these off!" with that she ripped off the two- no three quilts he was cocooned in earning a gasp as he quickly sat up, hugging himself shivering in cold sweat.
He stared at her with surprised eyes, "W-what are you- shit, what time is it?"
"Forget what about the time, you're burning up." pressing her palm over her sweaty, warm forehead she frowned, taking in his flushed face, pushing his hair back so she could take a better look at him, then glanced down at his ...sweaters. 
"How many layers...."
"I was cold." he whined, closing his eyes when she carded her fingers through his hair, trying to fix his hair, basically pushing it out of his face, "Of course you are...I'm going to get you something to drink...probably do something else about the fever. You take off your ...layers until then, okay?" she asked tugging at his sweater, earning yet another uncharacteristic whine - or maybe this is who he really was, she was just used to him acting all strong and mighty.
"Okay," he mumbled before reaching for the blanket again only to slap his hand away. Pulling his hand away with a gasp he gave her an offended, traumatised look.
"No." was all she said before going over to turn off the heater and opening the window to let out the stuffiness, "I'll be back in ten minutes and I better see those off you, understood?"
Wow, since when did she become all assertive? He thought to himself but only nodded at her instructions, it had been a while since someone had actually put in the effort to take care of him. This is what a good neighbour would do right? He'd take care of her too, right? He had already helped her make a payment plan that she was using to buy off the apartment her parents owned, he had met Jongho too, a nice but horrible fellow, but one that could push her and keep her on track, much like San he believed in her, claiming that
'If they didn't get her engaged with a man six years older than her, she would've had time to grow. Soohyuk wasn't bad but he was 26 and she was 20, he had a set plan, and she didn't even know what she wanted to major in- I don't blame either of them, marriage isn't a business transaction.
He watched her leave the room, glancing at the handbag on his side table, he'd seen her grow though, a few more months and the apartment would be hers, plus the cafe was getting good traffic so there was no real issue there. Though Jongho did threaten him, reminding him of how influential she was even if she wasn't on her parent's payroll anymore, any funny business would mean his career was over.
Slowly he began to take off the layers just doing what she had asked then falling face forward on the pillow, listening to the clinking of the pots and pans.
She arrived back to him with a tray in hand, for a busy man she always marvelled over how clean his kitchen was, but then again he did remind her now and then how cleaning was a good way to destress. Starting at the sweaters on the floor, the ones he had discarded because of her instructions- guessed the cleaning was only limited to the kitchen.
Shaking her head as she made her way through the maze of blankets and clothes, she placed the tray on his side table, slowly pushing her bag off the table. Sliced fruit and lots of water, followed by some Advil. He wasn't shivering anymore, so that was good, "Mr.Choi!" Turning to him she smiled, "Have some break...fast-" Good lord that some back, like that, was...wow.  
"What?" pushing up on his hands he turned his head to look at her only for her to cover her face, with her hands squeaking, "WHY DID YOU TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES?"
Scoffing he sat up, his headache just adding to his bratty attitude, "Because you yelled at me too and I'm still wearing my pants." Why was she being like this, she was so mean, she even left the window open, he was so cold, his neck and shoulders hurt and it was all because of that damn window, "My shoulders are killing me because of the window you left open too!"
"I-" Lowering her hands she looked at him, sitting on his knees, staring at her with a pout, what a man-child.
"First of all, sit properly, and eat, have the medicine it'll help with the pain and" Bending down she picked up a discarded shirt, handed it to him, "Window stays open or you take a cold shower."
That was all it took for the big boy to sit there, eating his sliced apples, which were never-ending, until he realised, she was slicing up even more, and an Advil later he began to come back to his senses, clearing his throat as he tried to roll his shoulders to ease the discomfort, which ended up being futile.
"I'm sorry for not informing you, I think I switched off my phone after sending in my sick leave." sighing he leaned back against the pillows, shaking his head when she was about to cut another apple, "Please. I'm full."
With a pout, followed by a suspicious glance she nodded, placing the fruit back down and taking his empty plate off his lap. Leaning closer she pressed her hand on his forehead, he was still warm but it was better than before mumbling, "It's alright, Jongho can handle stuff better than me anyway."
Letting out a soft chuckle, his fingers gripped her wrists gently, pulling her hand away from his skin, "That's funny, I remember him telling me how he desperately needs you to deal with all the customers and manage stuff," he whispered, only then realising how close the two were to each other, with her leaning on the bed, her knee pressing onto the mattress next to his leg, "I can see that you really can." 
"I..." averting her gaze she mumbled a thank you before asking, "How's the pain?" slowly pulling away as she sat back down, but his fingers still held onto her, though he didn't notice, he was holding onto her, as if she was grounding him to reality, or some form of happiness that he did not want to let go, at least not now. She however noticed this new profound clinginess and she'd be lying if she were to say she didn't like it, this feeling of being wanted, of being important and valued.
"Hurts." pouting he leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes like that would turn off the headache, his thumb mindlessly caressing her skin, "Shouldn't have picked up those stupid weights...Jongho did this on purpose."
"JONGHO?"
His grip tightened when he winced at her tone, shooting her glare for which she quickly apologised, before pestering him, glad she was wearing pants as she pulled her hand away and moved closer to him, standing on her knees on the bed beside him, gripping his shoulders, "Mr.Choi, please tell me. What has he told you?"
"N-nothing." he cleared his throat, trying to scoot away but her grip on his shoulders tightened, fingers digging into the muscle, causing him to let out an involuntary moan before she completely pulled away, "I- I’m sorry did that hurt."
Groaning he hunched over, shaking his head, "No, no, it felt good...sorry." Rubbing his neck, he looked at her, taking in her flushed features before sighing, "I uh...Jongho and I go to the gym together...he asked because he wanted to go too, I already go there with a friend from work...don't worry your secrets are safe with him."
Nodding at his statement she stood up and moved pointing at the chair she was sitting on, "Sit." 
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her, narrowing his eyes, glaring at her, almost playfully. Taking a few moments for her to get all nervous causing her to clear her throat, "I- I mean I can massage your shoulders, I- Jongho uses this oil, uses me like a free massage person too for his neck and-"
Raising his hand, he stopped her, slowly getting off the bed with a groaning sitting down as instructed before glancing at her, "Just don't strangle me, okay? He did mention how you have the death grip of a man."
If she weren't too distracted by the sight of him following her orders, she would've jumped down the window. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the oil out of her bag, yes, she carried that around in case Jongho pulled something like the old man he was.
Once she began working on his neck, fingers pressing into the knots he bit his lip, trying to hold in the sounds that were about to burst through, if this was the privilege Jongho got for being her best friend, he'd sign up too.
For about ten minutes she went on with her usual routine, only to stop when his head fell back against her belly, going limp her hold- Oh. He had fallen asleep. She stood there, holding onto his slouching form, taking in his relaxed features. She hadn't seen him this relaxed before, he almost looked...too cute. Speaking of cute, she had learned many things about him today, from how he was actually just as whiny as he pretended not to be, to how he ate almost 5 apples before stopping, she did notice how his fridge was mostly empty other than having eggs, and leftover take out. Maybe they should have more dinners together, maybe she could cook actual homemade food for him.
Slowly helping him up, he drowsily mumbled something before falling onto the bed, as she tucked him in. Glancing at the time she sighed, she'd spent most of the day here, giving him one more look she reached for his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, "Rest well Mr.Choi."
The next morning San woke up better than ever, he knew the fatigue was getting to him but he didn't stop, he probably had forgotten how to stop. That would explain why he fell sick, but who knew he lived right next door to an angel? What surprised him more was how his entire room was clean, all his clothes were neatly folded and stacked in one place, blankets folded at the edge of his bed and the water bottles no longer littered around. She really didn't have to do so much. 
Picking up his phone he checked his messages, opening hers first before Yeosang's or Mingi's
'Hope you're better now Mr Choi. Advil is on the console and I restocked your apples. Don't worry, I went to work myself today, like a big girl. You get some rest.'
Smiling at her message he leaned against the pillow, yeah, this is exactly what neighbours do.
.
"A car?"
"Yes, a car." he sighed, turning the laptop to her, "You can get one on loan, I can fix you up with a good payment plan." he smiled at her, only to frown at the way she was frowning at her lap, "What's...wrong?"
"I- No I- thank you, it really does mean a lot." she cleared her throat, trying to control her expression, he was tired of her, he had to be, "I just...are you- I mean if you feel our routine is taxing then-"
Shaking his head he closed the laptop, turning fully to face her own couch, she was sitting on his very expensive couch, crushing the very expensive cushion in her lap, but it was okay, because it was her, and this time, the after work hours, a few hours before would fall asleep had become their time, where she would go on and on about stuff, only for him to add in a few bits- not because he wasn't interested but because he wanted her to speak, he wanted her to be heard, that and he was still too afraid that if she were to find out he was but from a simple background, from a small town like Namhae, she might never come back here. He wanted to watch her grow, he wanted to watch her business grow and bloom into what she had dreamt for it to be, he wanted to help her and this was a way of helping her.
"It's not...taxing. But...you need to" Pausing to take a moment to think, he noticed how her nails were digging into the leather, shaking that thought away he sighed, "You need to be independent, I'm not saying we change our routine, but you should lax yours, you don't have to leave at 6 am every morning and you don't need to come back home at around 8 or 9. Like you couldn't go when I was sick and then took the bus." he paused, taking in her appearance, only to find her pouting at the TV - yes, he had her buy a TV too because he refused to believe watching stuff on your laptop was better than the TV, though just like every other day she'd come over and watch his TV instead saying it's boring to watch TV alone. Reaching for the remote he paused the movie, to get her to only focus on him, having her look at him, "Like I was saying, a car can help you fix that and what if you need to collect your packaging or go buy fresh produce from the farmer's market? You can't always take a cab, it's not safe- you're earning well enough, I'm not saying buy one because of me, I'm saying buy one because it's your need, you shouldn't depend on anyone, not even me."
Clearing his throat, he met her soft, warm eyes, watching her stare at him intently, before blinking slowly at looking at the laptop, her grip on the cushion loosened,
"I like...the red one."
.
"A car? I- is this 4-year plan? SAN NO." Yeosang stared at the spreadsheet before turning to San who was calmly sipping on his warm cup of coffee, the logo bright enough for Yeosang to roll his eyes, "Listen, lover boy, I get your head over heels for her, but this is a stupid idea, four years with the same car, four years and she's still paying it off- what if she wants to change the car??"
"Yeosang, she's not big on change, and four years max, the payment plan is flexible in terms of quotas she can pay, knowing Jongho he’ll make her pay it all off within two years maximum." he said as he placed his cup down, leaning against his swivel chair, earning another groan from the man across the table, "Man, just buy her a car then."
"No."
"WHY NOT"
"Because she has to learn."
"And you need to grow a pair, big enough to tell her you like her."
"I don't like her." he sighed rolling closer to his desk to turn on his laptop, eying Yeosang who looked at the papers once more, "No, you do not like her...you convinced her to buy a car, made an entire payment plan for her and told her the initial deposit fee was waved off even though YOU paid it- you don't like her my friend," standing up the marketing director walked to the door of the office, turning to glance at his friend with one final smirk before leaving, "You're in love with her."
.
"Jongho, can you get me more napkins?" she called out to the man who was busy singing in the kitchen, at this point she could just ask him to get himself recorded, she was sure Hongjoong wouldn’t say no to either of them. Rush hour was about to start and for that, she needed to prepare, even if the business was booming, they were still short-staffed, and Jongho’s lack of people skills was dragging the interview session longer than she had anticipated. Though she was partially to blame, she was often too preoccupied with work and then well… a certain suited man, from the car ride home to the apartment, to dinner. They had begun to have dinner together more frequently, she often cooked as well, the first time she took a homecooked dish to his place he almost cried at dinner, excusing himself to go to the kitchen for more ‘napkins’, though from the faint sniffing from the kitchen and how long he took there had her believing her suspicions were right, once he looked at her with puffy eyes. Though she never said anything, smiling at him like she always did, for once feeling as if she wasn’t falling behind, cupid could walk right by her and she wouldn’t mind, her heart was already on a platter for someone else, she was just waiting for him to realise this little fact. So, she too, was too busy to even go through the files, but one of these days she’ll definitely get back to it.
The little chime of the bell had her look up from the counter, smiling at the customer only to almost drop to her knees at the man who had walked in- no, he was a fairy- could men be fairies? An angel? No, what on earth was this creature, his face holding the same innocence of an angel, but when he spoke, it was as if she heard the grumble of a dragon- damn. Shaking away her thoughts she smiled at him, greeting him as he stepped closer, oh how she loved men in suits- or rather just one man, with the cute Windsor knot, she noticed how he’d changed it from his usual ones.
“I’ll have whatever you like.” He smiled at her, before looking around, “This place new?”
“Yes, Sir, it is, may I ask if you have any allergies?” she asked before punching in a combo number, to which he shook his head.
“Cash or card?”
“What does Mr.Choi use?”
“What?” she froze, looking up from the monitor to meet his smirk, well, that was new, “I’m sorry, what was that sir?”
“I said card.”
With that she quickly swiped his card, asking him to wait for a while until she came to him with his order. Yeosang wanted to tell her who he was, but the way she stared up at him like a school girl caught slipping a note in her crush’s locker forced him to stop himself, she looked almost too innocent to bully like that- perhaps he should leave the teasing for San instead.
.
You should've gotten the latest model." the man stormed into his friend's room, earning a look of surprise, leaning right to spot his secretary raise his hands in defence, Mingi was always so useless at times like this. "Dude, in a meeting." he sighed gesturing at the muted call, only for Yeosang to snort, roll his eyes and sit down cross-legged across the man, sipping on a cup of coffee, "I cannot believe you let someone like that wait in the rain for you," he mumbled as soon as San joined the call once more, back to business.
"What-" he looked up from the screen to glare at the brunette pausing at the cup, oh, "Oh you went- "Of course, I WENT- I had to check her out okay and I- you really are a d*ck, she isn't slow-witted at all, she's just cute. That's how girls are, not that you'd know you simpleton." "San your mic isn't muted" They heard a chuckle only for him to panic and Yeosang to choke on his coffee, both men apologising to their boss who just laughed it off- luckily the meeting was being held during the break, which meant this conversation could happen since they were off the clock for a while.
.
Much like any other day off, San had decided to do his basic house chores, and since his neighbour now had her own car, he didn’t need to worry about that today which was good, because he really did need to clean up. With the trash bag in hand, he walked out of his apartment, only to stop and stare at the figure hunched over by the elevator, what the- oh wait what?
 Jogging over to her he tapped her shoulder, “Are you okay?” placing the back down he crouched down to get a better look at her face, only to frown at her pained expression, “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing, just came back from the doc’s.” she sighed before slowly straightening back up, giving him a faulty smile, “All’s good Mr.Choi….cleaning day today?” she mumbled, changing the topic as she made her way to her apartment, not really giving him any time to answer.
She was almost in bed when she heard the front door beep open, man, she shouldn't have shared the passcode. Nonetheless, she walked back out to find him standing there in her hallway, frowning at her before marching towards her, "What happened? Why were you at the doctor's?" 
"I'm fine, just a bit sick I-" pausing her eyes clenched shut, whimpering as she held onto her stomach, trying to breathe out the pain. 
"That's it, we're going to get you checked again." he declared, grabbing her wrist before she snatched it away, "NO! Leave me alone." He blinked at her, taking in the sudden outburst, somewhat offended, did he overstep a boundary? Scanning her pale face he noticed the way her lower lip trembled, was she...going to cry?
"Please..."
That was all it took for Choi San to leave, not forcing her for anything. If she wanted to be alone, fine, she'd be alone, but she didn't need to yell at him like that, and then cry, that just confused him. Maybe she was offended that he came in even though she clearly tried to avoid him, but...they'd usually just walk into each other's apartments like that, that wasn't new. His phone ringing was what had him stop the brooding session, picking up the call,
"Hey."
"You need to help your stupid neighbour."
"I...well she told me she wanted to be alone Jongho, I think she's sick but won't go to the doctor," San mumbled, a bit too desperately. 
"That..." he could practically see Jongho roll his eyes at him, "Because it's that time of the month."
"What time of the month?"
"Choi San, do you have a sister?"
"Yeah, why?"
".... she on her period man- look, I called you because we cancelled all the interviews for a new hire today but this one moron won't listen and I know he's going to go to her place so you gotta tell her."
"WAIT WHAT- she was in so much pain though." no wonder she wanted him to leave, no wonder she yelled at him and then began crying.
"Mhmmm...kay bye".
"JONGHO WAIT-" he looked at the phone and sighed, this man just wanted him to lose his mind, nothing else. He'd do this to him often, even at the gym. Like when he'd be lifting weights, that one time when San accidentally dropped a dumbell on his foot when Jongho casually told him, "Did you know she's in guys with nice butts, and apparently when I stare at a lady with a nice butt for a while, she calls me a pervert." Or the time he almost lost his footing on the treadmill while running, Jongho who was casually standing next to him, staring at his reflection through the mirror, "Glad she hasn't seen your arms, she has a thing for being put in a WWE style headlock." yet, here he was telling her that her secrets were safe with Jongho.
.
She felt someone tap her shoulder, her soul almost left her body, her scream muffled by his palm as he held her down, "It's me, it's me..." he whispered, pulling away slowly as she sat up, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it, repeatedly, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!"
Clicking his tongue, he snatched it out of her hand and glared at her, though he wasn't angry, his annoyed expression just confused her even more when he pointed at a brown paper bag he had placed beside her. His face flushed as he averted his gaze, clearing his throat, "Jongho said...someone's coming for an interview. This has...stuff for you...I don't know what you particularly use, so I got...most of it."
"What do you mean, I cancelled the interviews and what did you bring for me-"
The doorbell cut her off, her eyes widening in disbelief, no, did Jongho really give her address? She was fighting with the blanket, trying to get it off her when he stopped her, gently pushing her back to lay down, "It's fine...I'll interview him."
He was about to leave but she gripped his wrist, "No, Mr.Choi it's fine, you've done more than enough-"
"You took care of me last time." he smiled at her before taking something out of the paper, "Now let me take care of you." placed the item in her lap he rolled his eyes when the bell rang again, leaving the room. 
What in the name of everything did Jongho tell him? She looked at the chocolate bar, it was her favourite, and she had only mentioned it once, oh my god, did he know she was on her period? Snatching the bag from the edge of the bed she turned it over, its contents falling all over the place. Good grief.... this man...he had gotten her every product he could find. Napkins, tampons, he even bought her heating pads, and other pain medicine, by the time she was done counting the things he had gotten her she was already crying, ugly sobbing at best.
San went to the door, opening it to be greeted by a man with sharp eyes. Technically, his overall appearance was sharp, from his features to his suit- was he really wearing a suit? The only thing about him that seemed remotely soft was his hair, though he looked like a fresh graduate so why apply to a cafe, that too one that was a new seed in the market?
"Good afternoon. Is Ms.L/N here? My name is Jung Wooyoung, I had an interview appointment with her-"
"At the cafe but they were cancelled." San cut him off, leaning against the door as he tried to stare down the shorter man.
Wooyoung stared at the man in sleeveless sweatpants, who was he? Husband? Boyfriend? Some annoying friend? He could pick a fight with him, but then he needed this job, really did.
Clearing his throat, he nodded, before bowing, "I apologise for the intrusion but I thought my eagerness may have a positive impact." 
San stared at him, the perfect 90°, he'd seen that before, many times, he'd been there before too. He knew the feeling, the anxiety and dread that accompanied it, the desperation to finally achieve something. Finally, put the years and money spent on education to use.
"It's...fine, come in."
That's how Wooyoung found himself sitting on a brightly coloured couch, looking around, though he saw no signs of masculinity anywhere, so her boyfriend didn't live with her. He knew his way around the place though. Who was going to interview him though?
San walked out of the kitchen with a tray of tea, placing it on the coffee table as Wooyoung thanked him, getting up to take his mug. No, everything was too feminine so does this mean- what if this dude was a serial killer? Oh my god!?! Did he KILL HER AND IS NOW GOING TO KILL HIM? IS THIS COFFEE POISONED?? Slowly bringing the mug to his nose, sniffing it.
San raised a brow at him, what on earth was this psycho doing? He was about to ask when they heard something crash, instantly getting up he turned to leave, pausing for a moment to loom at Wooyoung, "I'll be right back, please stay here."
Oh my gosh, he was a killer! Wait, she was still alive! He could help her? What should he do? Think Wooyoung, think! Standing up he walked down the same path he did, peaking through the door left ajar.
San frowned as he picked her up, ignoring her whines, "What exactly were you doing?" he asked walking over to the bed, holding her in his arms as she covered her flushed face with her hands mumbling "The clock stopped working."
"Seriously?" quirking a brow at her he stopped walking, looking at her then at the bed, stuff scattered across it, files, pens and her laptop, "Didn't I tell you to rest?"
"I was but then I heard Mr.Jung and I wanted to read his file," she explained, leaning against his chest, mentally noting how he was holding onto her like she weighed lighter than a feather.
He clicked his tongue in protest, about to talk about how he'd handle it but the door burst open, a Mr.Jung stomping in, holding an umbrella in hand, "UNHAND HER YOU PERVERT!"
She flinched when the door slammed open, squeaking as she hugged him close, burying her face in his shirt, arms wrapped around his neck, curling into him as if he'd protect her. On the other hand, San stood there rooted at the spot, at first he was confused as to what Wooyoung was even doing until he noticed the faux bravery morph into some form of fear, his panic setting in.
Wooyoung stood there, umbrella in the air, taking in the sight before him, a man carrying a woman bridal style...oh shit they were together. Please did he Wooyoung himself again?
.
"I am so sorry Miss-"
"It's alright." she cleared her throat, never in her life did she think she'd interview someone whilst being in her pyjamas, the little hearts printed on her shirt and pants. Next to her San sat at a good distance, his face as red as the pot of a plant near the window, intently staring at the coffee table, not even listening to the two converse- he wasn't carrying her around for fun! He was just helping her! She fell off the stool because of the stupid clock and- and her back hurt so his brain just...picking her up was easier and-
"Mr.Choi?"
"Hmm?" instantly turning to her, he regretted it as quick, taking in her soft gaze, almost wanting to crumble at the feet, shit, this wasn't good.
"I said I should hire Mr.Jung, right?"
"Uh...I guess?" he mumbled, discreetly glaring at Wooyoung when she began reading his credentials too, they were good, but managing to be a distinguished student in the country's best culinary school wasn't easy.
"I- I'm sorry for intruding Sir." he cleared his throat, if he had to kiss this man's pointy polished shoes to get this job he would, "I should've known you're her boyfriend, it was a lack of better judgement on my part." He paused to look up at him, only to find the man before him malfunctioning, then glancing at the woman who looked like she was swooning, almost awake inside a dream.
"We're just neighbours!" he blurted out, not liking how Wooyoung's neutral expressions morphed into the sassiest, most judgemental look of 'Nah, I don't think so', as he hunched over the table to take a better look at the two.
"I live next doo-"
"You're hired Mr.Jung, I'll see you tomorrow at work!"
.
"Wow, that's...kinda regret not being there to see it." Jongho hummed, taking out an apron and tossing it to Wooyoung who cleared his throat, "I mean, I didn't intend to make things awkward." 
"Sure man." was all Jongho said before patting him on the back, "But until she comes back to work, you're on counter duty, kitchen is off limits." with that he walked away, leaving the new employee to sigh in defeat, looking around at the empty cafe. Considering she was 'still sick' she'd left Jongho in charge but that man was too busy not interacting with customers and staying hidden in the kitchen, occasionally singing out loud- at least he could sing.
He stared through the glass doors, looking at the people passing by, everyone with a purpose, yet, here he was still trying to find his purpose. 
The doors opened and someone walked in, phone pressed onto his ear, his coat neatly folded in half, hanging off his other forearm, the buttons of his waistcoat fighting for their lives when the man heaved out a heavy sigh, "No Mingi, the report is supposed to be sent to Mr Park from the IT department, Park Seonghwa, send it to him and get back to me." A frown was permanently etched onto his face, brows knitted together as he pulled his phone off his ear and stuffed it in his pocket, only froze when he looked at Wooyoung.
The two just stood there staring at each other for a good ten seconds before Wooyoung cleared his throat and greeted him, "We can pretend nothing happened Mr.Choi."
Scratching his neck the businessman nodded, licking his lips out of embarrassment, "Yeah...sure"
"So, what can I get you, unfortunately, the menu still comprises of the usual since I'm not allowed in the kitchen till the boss lady comes." His professionalism impressed San, honestly, he did think the guy couldn't pull it off but he was glad he wasn't mentioning yesterday at all.
"Oh umm... Jongho knows I called him-"
"Yes, yes, no need to wet your expensive pants Mr.Choi." the kitchen door opened as Jongho walked out with two giant paper bags, San's eyes scanning the change of printing, somewhat proud she took his suggestion on investing in merchandise printing.
"Here's your usual, one for Princess Mingi and the other princess who lives next door." Placing the bags on the counter he smirked at the man, who cleared his throat, trying not to look at Wooyoung whose resting b*tchface was back, comprised of the look which San easily read, 'Nice to see a clown clowning himself.'
"So, aren't corporate breaks supposed to be like...40 minutes long?" Jongho asked, leaning against the counter as he sighed, "You gonna hurry there and back or you gonna eat with her-"
"I- she has to give paperwork for you that's why she called me, I had a half day anyway." He mumbled, quickly taking out his card that Wooyoung slowly took from him, side-eying the man, who was still mumbling excuses, though all Wooyoung could hear was "We're just neighbours".
Of course, they were just neighbours.
.
Shit. Of all the times his car decided to throw a tantrum, it was now. Not only did he leave work late but it was raining, so now, Choi San sat in his car staring at the empty highway, the streetlights his only companion. Clicking his tongue, he tried to switch on the engine again, trying to press on the gas, only for the vehicle to whine in refusal. Sighing he gripped the wheel, resting his forehead against it, sighing at the coolness of the leather. What could he do? Get a cab? No, no cabs would be around right now. Call Yeosang? No, he lived in the opposite direction, he would come to help him, but he knew the man had a presentation due tomorrow. He could…call her. He didn’t want to though; things had become a bit…awkward.
Truth be told he didn’t really want to admit it, but after the Wooyoung incident, he tried to pretend nothing happened and to his amazement, she did too, their routine was as normal as ever, conversations would flow easily, though she’d still do most of the talking. Until one particular Friday night when they were having dinner at her place, she told him she wouldn’t be carpooling anymore because she had finally gotten used to driving and needed to go to other places. Although he was proud, his smile indicating his happiness and joy to see her bloom into a beautiful flower, a nostalgic and heavy blue began to spread in his chest, weighing down on his appetite, as he slowly put down the fork, pushing the plate ever so gently and discreetly, looking at her intently when she began to show him the route she’d take to the market, asking him if it was good or if there was another route. Unfortunately, was too busy looking at her to even care, to even give an honest opinion, she was glowing that night, and he could bask in her warmth forever, but there was no such thing as forever, he knew that happy endings were nonsense, especially when it came down to him. So, after that night, he had slowly begun to distance himself, making sure to leave before she’d wake up and come back later than usual, texting would just comprise of him sending one-liner responses, and he’d even cancelled some of their dinners together saying he had to stay in the office late. Yeosang had asked him a few times about her, but all he’d say was that she was busy and he didn’t want to interfere- that was true though, it was he who helped her out with all the planning and the financial agenda, it was him who supported her endlessly, who pulled her back up to her feet when she’d be close to giving up- but that didn’t mean he wanted to watch her fly away from the front row seats, no, he’d rather see his swan take flight with grace and elegance from the sidelines, he’d be there, he’d always be there, but like her shadow, after all, he too was afraid of being hurt, he couldn’t handle it, not again, after all, they were just neighbours.
A tap on the window had him jerking back into sitting properly, blinking away the blurriness he turned to the window, eyes widening at the figure outside before lowering the window, “What are you-
“Need a ride?” she smiled, trying to conceal any other emotion bubbling within her, her grip on the umbrella tightening when she noticed his frown, not responding to her question, though she could see the questions swirling in his eyes, possibly at the tip of his tongue, but she knew he’d never ask, just keep them in, let them simmer into something else, probably guilt…or anger.
“I had to do a complete inventory check today so I closed up late. Was driving by and I saw your car…” gesturing towards her own car that was parked in front of his, the hazards blinking in the rain.
“My car…broke down.” He mumbled, before reaching for his bag and nodding at her, letting her move back before coming out of the car, waiting for the rain to pour down on his already defeated parade, but that didn’t happen, for she had extended her arm to full height, tilting forward so he was covered by it, letting the water splash onto her head instead. There she went again, worrying about him, trying to rip open the bag he was gripping onto tight, not wanting anything to spill out.
.
Patting the droplets off her she pulled out a few tissues and dried her hands. He sat next to her, buckled up, laptop bag on his lap, even though she had told him to put it on the backseat but he refused, holding onto it like a child throwing a tantrum. They’d been driving silently for a while, the only sound between them was of the rain slapping against her little red card.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” she asked, trying not to speed on the slippery highway, the rain had worsened, who knew a light shower was going to turn into a full-blown storm? The problem wasn’t the rain in general but visibility was becoming an issue, well, there was this third party between them, a form of invisible wall that was keeping the two apart, or rather he was being pulled away, while she just held onto him, trying to pull him back to her, though ever so slowly she could sense that he was letting go of her hand.
He never responded to her question, just continuing with the silent treatment. Sighing out of frustration she flicked the left blinker before slowly parking across the yellow line at the side of the road, before them the road was barely visible, she thought he’d question but he didn’t he wasn’t stupid, even though he didn’t want to be here, stuck in the same space as her, too afraid he’d blurt out all he had hidden, he knew even if he took the wheel instead of her, he couldn’t see through the rain. So, the two sat in silence, as if the other wasn’t there, one of the most awkward the two had been with each other like they were strangers all over again. That is until she finally decided to take matters into her own hands,
“Are you…upset with me?”
He looked up from his lap to her, a small pout present on his lips before shaking his head and turning back to stare at his lap.
“Do you…not want to be friends with me anymore?” she knew these questions were somewhat pointless, in the time they had spent together she had learned one thing, that he was rarely bothered by her, in fact sometimes he’d go out of his way to make her feel better, make her feel safer, so what bothered her was not knowing what had he pulling away like this. She thought as she’d grown more independent, he’d be happy, proud of her progress, not this.
“No.”
Was all he said, not even bothering to look at her, instead choosing to take out his phone, maybe he could just check on work or- he couldn’t though, because she snatched it out of his hand. His head whipped in her direction, and a glare followed, “Give it back.” He spat only for her to shake her head and shove it in the pocket of her, shaking her head.
“I said give it back. I’m not joking. I’m not in the mood.” Groaning he leaned closer to her, trying to reach for her pocket but she slapped his hand off his pocket, only for him to grip her wrist, trying to hold his anger at bay.
“Not until you tell me why you hate me!” she yelled tugging her wrist out of his grasp.
“I DON’T HATE YOU!” he yelled back, turning to her completely, his laptop bag falling off his lap, God this car for so small, he barely had leg room!
“THEN WHY ARE YOU PULLING AWAY!”
“BECAUSE I CAN’T STAND AND WATCH WHILE YOU LEAVE ME BEHIND!”
“I- she froze at his words, the weight of the statement settling in around them. Letting out a sigh he turned around, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to control his breathing, trying to stop his thoughts from running around, pushing and shoving every emotion he had buried in below. For a moment he even thought of stepping out in the rain to cool down, but the gentle grip of his shoulder stopped him.
“Mr.Choi please I would never leave you behind, I-
“Oh, stop it, would you.” He scoffed, brushing her hand off his shoulder, “I’ve known you for what? Six, seven months now and you still don’t call me by my first name, I- I literally use your name and you’re so impersonal that –
“I don’t know your first name.”
Once again, they were greeted with silence, at this point the sound of the rain was the only thing keeping the two from exploding at one another, a series of bottled-up feelings, emotions that were untouched for so long, that the layer of dust on them had turned into a sheet of sand, one that had obscured rationality and logic.
“What” Taking in a deep breath he began, “What do you mean?”
Rolling her eyes at him she huffed, “Because you never told me, not once, since the day I met you the only way I found out your last name too was because the security guard greets you as Mr.Choi, and he did that the first next you dropped me home.” Taking the phone out of her pocket she placed it on the dashboard in front of him, “I don’t know why you think I’d leave you; I now own the apartment next to you thanks to you, I have dinner with you almost every other day, I let you carry me around when I’m tired, I cook meals for you not because I am obligated but because I want to, I- I ask you for help all the time with the full confidence that you’ll never say no”, pausing she looked at the road, the rain had slowed, much like the whirlpool of unkempt emotions that were stirring between them, “ and if you haven’t realised by now, I’m not very big on change. So, no, Mr.Choi, I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.”
“San” he whispered, staring at the road ahead, much like her, too afraid to even look at her, who knew all it would take was a confession like that to calm him down, put his worries to rest, untying the bag he had knotted up so well after he had his broken heart handed back to him.
“Nice to meet you San.” Was all she said before starting the car, now driving home, after the much fearsome, prolonged storm. No other words were exchanged, but unlike before, the silence was no longer awkward or heavy, it was pleasant, a new kind of pleasant, one that oddly enough he was welcoming.
The ride up the elevator was no different, the two were walking casually like nothing had happened, though San knew something had happened, and for some reason, the bitter-sweet reality of it made him want something more to happen, he was only looking for the right moment for it to happen.
She was about to enter her apartment when he called her out, causing her to turn around and almost bump into him, when had he come so close?
“I don’t want to be just neighbours anymore.”
Facing him properly she nodded looking up at him, “I see, then what do you want?”
“I…” averting his gaze he thought for a moment, wondering if he could jump into it, or take caution and slowly see where it goes, though the little critter in his chest was begging him to let loose, his rationality projected by his fears had him second-guessing almost every micro decision he had come up with in these seconds, “I…want…more?”
“Then,” pursing her lips together she narrowed her eyes at him, moving closer to see if he’d move back, but he didn’t, he stood there, staring at her intently, shy yet so curious, she’d barely ever seen him like this before, her lips curving into a smile, “Let’s take it slow?”
He nodded a bit too eagerly at her question, earning a chuckle from her, as she turned around and pointed inside, “Dinner? Though it’s late, I can make us something light?” He had followed her inside that night, somewhat nervous about starting a new chapter in his life, yet, excited like a little boy about to win a race.
.
“Mr.Choi, there’s uhh…there’s someone here to meet you?” Mingi’s voice blared out of the speaker causing San to stop typing, frowning at the time, it was 11 am he had no meetings for the day, so why would someone just pop up, Yeosang was on leave today as well so- the door opened and he could hear Mingi calling someone out, “Miss! Wait Mr.Choi hasn’t allowed you to-
“It's…fine Mingi.” He nodded at his assistant, before his eyes locked with her, her smile radiant as ever, as she coly made her way to his desk, “Hi San.” ‘San’, she’d been using his name more often now, all night even at dinner, she’d somehow slip it in every sentence and he’d somehow slip into that gooey pool of mush every time his name would roll off her tongue.
“You- you had a day off today, right? Do you want to spend time together, I-“ he stood up, quickly trying to clean his desk though she placed something on the empty corner of the glass table, “I just came to drop off your lunch San, I made special cookies today, and if you like them, we’ll introduce them, Wooyoung even decided a name for them.”
“Oh?” he asked, his eyes sparkling at the sight of the lunch boxes, a well-fed boy was a happy boy and he was so glad she’d feed him well, even when they were ‘just neighbours’. So, knowing she was still doing that, only adding onto the perk by coming to him and surprising him at work had something within him strangling his heart in joy, “What’s the name?”
“Well…initially it was something I wanted to talk to you about if you’d be okay if I call you that, but then he said we could name them after that, but I feel like only I should be allowed to call you that.” She cleared her throat looking around his spacious office, she never thought his office would be this big or high up for the matter, not a day went by where this man didn’t amaze him.
He stopped opening the boxes to look up at her, “What do you want to call me?”
“Sannie.”
.
Things had been great, well, somewhat, although they were ‘no longer neighbours’, there was still no official label and it confused San how she was alright with that. Sure, they’d spend more time together now, she’d drop by sometimes before lunch just to drop off his lunch, but he was still San at work, and only Sannie when the two were alone. Moreover, they’d never really been…physical. Not that he didn’t want to ‘do the deed’ or something- well, technically- no he did but, this isn’t what he meant, he knew they were taking it slow, but sometimes, he’d feel the affectionate Sannie resurface and it would take everything in his power to hold him back. What if she wasn’t into that? What if she thought he was clingy overbearing or too sensitive? Would she think he’s coming on too strong if he asked ‘what they were’?
“Sannie?” she asked, poking his shoulder, “You aren’t eating, don’t like the food or the movie?” Placing her plate on the coffee table she paused the film when he didn’t look at her, “Sannie…you gotta talk to me about these things, I can’t read your mind-
“Would you like to start a business venture with me?” In front of him was not her Sannie or San, no, turning to face her with a hard face and honest eyes was a man sitting up straight, hands pressed against his knees, it was Mr.Choi.
“Umm…I…like a collaboration?”
“Yes, of sorts.”
“I…I mean I don’t really need Jongho’s permission it is just my business.”
“It is.”
“I guess…but don’t you already have a job, San?” was he planning on quitting?
“I do, but this venture is more important, I prefer it over my job.”
“Sannie, my café is doing good, but quitting your job for it, especially at the designation you’re at it’s not logical-
“Be my girlfriend”, he yelled in frustration, cutting her off before meekly averting his gaze, “Please…”
“I…” she took a minute to think before scooting closer to him, his fingers digging into the material of his pants, though when she placed her hands over his, he visibly relaxed, “I just love how you’re so uptight Mr.Choi.”
She smiled, but he only frowned at that, why would she call him by his last name? Did he do anything to upset her? Was he perhaps moving too quickly for her liking? Or should he have been more romantic- actually this wasn’t really romantic at all, he can’t believe he just did that, he should’ve thought this through, he should’ve planned properly, it had only been a month and –
His brain switched off because of the sudden pressure on his lips, hands automatically reaching to hold onto the source, she was…kissing him? His eyes closed when she slowly moved closer, helping her onto his lap as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, taking charge, until she slowly pushed him back, his back pressing against the sofa, eyes flickering open to meet her flushed face, a small smile gracing her lips, he had smudged her lipstick- nice.
“Do I…take that as a yes?” he sighed, body completely relaxed, his hands giving her waist a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t know, maybe we should seal the deal again?”
His chuckle echoed across the room, film and food long forgotten, the only thing he could focus on was her, and slowly, he began to feel as if the gates he was trying to keep closed were merely inches away from bursting open.
.
“We need to talk.”
“Um…okay, why are you slowly letting go of the weights- Jongho, Jongho, buddy, stop.” He wheezed, looking up at his spotter who was glaring down at him, “How serious are you?” he asked lifting the weights ever so slightly.
“FOR STAYING ALIVE, PRETTY SERIOUS- JONGHO!” he gasped when the man almost let go of the weight.
“Should we…stop them?” Wooyoung asked, yes, he too had become their newest addition to their gym buddies’ group, Yeosang who was walking on the treadmill beside him shrugged, “I don’t think so, this is between them, plus knowing San took a year just to confess to her, even though he was treating her like he was her boyfriend, I believe Jongho has every right to harass him.”
“I’m serious.” Jongho warned, glaring at the man who was not only turning blue but was now drenched in cold sweat, shaking his head and pleading out an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
“I mean her, I’ve had to pick up the pieces once and I let it go because the guy wasn’t directly involved, but you- you son of a- you have her sitting at the café daydreaming about what you’d like to eat at night. You have her calling me at night asking me what shirt you’d think she looks best in? Would you prefer her in pants or a skirt- you have her working her ass off to make you proud and so help me God if you ever even think of hurting her-
Before he could finish his monologue San threw the weights off him, heaving as he stood up, wiping the drool off his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up straight, his breathing heavy as he looked directly at Jongho, “Never. Do that. Again. And I may be a slow-witted loser but I am no abuser- and her” he turned to look at the hoodie on the opposite bench, a blue hoodie, there was nothing special about the hoodie, but the fact that it was the first ever gift she had given him, telling him she had a matching one, so they could wear it together at home, “I don’t even think I spend a single moment of my pathetic life where I can’t be thinking about her.”
By now Yeosang and Wooyoung had gotten off the treadmills and were standing on standby just in case things escalated, but San’s confession had them staring at him in awe. Well, Wooyoung was just glad that the clown had stopped clowning himself, but Yeosang, no, he was thrilled if not glad that San had finally accepted to let himself be happy once more, he had allowed himself to love once more- even if this was just the first stage, even if they were still going through their awkward relationship stages, he was just glad to know that things were getting better for San.
Jongho looked at him before nodding, then turning to point at the weights, “Throwing gym equipment is stupid, no wonder people like you who make so much money are careless.” Clicking his tongue at him he picked up his duffle bag, “Anyway, Shakespeare, Imma hit the showers, don’t forget she’s making you pasta tonight, so you better hurry up.” He left San standing there, letting his own speech process, slowly the seed had begun to germinate and deep down he knew, he was counting on it to turn into a field, one she could run around in, laughing with joy.
.
Sighing she slowly pulled away from him, being extremely careful of two things; firstly, to not wake him up and secondly to not cause any harm to his sheets. She didn’t want to stay at his place tonight, she even told him no because he had an early meeting tomorrow, and she was on her… period, so to sleep over with her new boyfriend and possibly leak on his pristine white sheets was not on the agenda, that and the fact that the cramps were hitting hard and her back was probably broken just made it more difficult for her to find the perfect position.
So, that’s how she found herself sitting on his couch, hoping to God that the pain medicine would start working soon, or maybe it could take a few hours and San could get a good night’s rest and by the time he’s about to wake up, she’d slip right back in and-
“Are you okay?”
“SHIT” throwing a cushion at him she whined, especially when it hit him square in the face, causing him to stumble back, pouting at her, “What did I do?”
“I’m sorry, Sannie, I- I’m fine I promise, I just couldn’t sleep and your sheets are clean and-
“Yes, I am aware my sheets are clean, so you don’t have to worry-
“That’s why I am worried,” she sighed only for it to turn into a groan as she hugged herself, trying to ease the pain. Oh, he looked at her, he’d seen this before, he knew what had happened, “Do you think I’ll find it weird if you…I mean…It's normal if it happens right?”
“It's gross.” She mumbled only for him to sigh and slowly reach for her arm, “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked as if it was completely normal, umm…it wasn’t technically? He’d just carry her around when she’d refuse to do something or when he was in his playful Sannie mood- which was often only behind closed doors when the suit didn’t define him.
“nO” Quickly getting up she motioned for him to walk first, “Why-“
“JUST DO IT” she yelled only for him to quickly turn around and head towards his bedroom, no need to piss off his girlfriend during that time of the month. Huffing out in frustration she ‘readjusted’ her pants, trying to reposition the horrid excuse of a lady diaper, no, she did not want him to see this scene, it was not even remotely attractive.
Sighing she laid down next to him, what she had forgotten was how much this man loved physical affection because as soon as she turned to face him, he pulled her closer, her face pressing into his neck as he rested his chin on top of her head, an arm under her head acting as his pillow and the other one securely wrapped around her waist. Now she needed to stay still, especially when she heard him snore, he had fallen asleep so quickly, of course, he was tired, the guilt slowly settling in. She really should have gone home tonight.
Her body jerked when a sharp pain shot across her lower half, her fingers gripping his shirt as she held her breath, trying to restrict extra movements. At this point she could just wither away in pain, waiting for the meds to work before she wakes him up and he throws her out for not letting him get a decent night’s sleep.
For a few moments, her little movements continued until he abruptly pulled away and wordlessly sat up, to reach for something on his nightstand, probably his phone- man, she should really apologise and leave now, but before she could make her way off the bed he turned around and stood on his knees, slowly pushing her to lay on her front, “Umm…San?”
“Your back hurts, right?” he mumbled, gently lifting her shirt to reveal some of the skin, “I hope this helps, my sister recommended it.” With that he began to rub the ointment on her lower back, trying to mimic the similar motions she’d use while working on his neck or shoulders from time to time- yes, he had finally obtained that perk. He only stopped when she completely relaxed under his touch, smiling when he realised, she was asleep, gently pulling her shirt back down he got off the bed, tucking her in, making sure to place a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the bedside. Little did she know that she had been in pain all night and not just a few minutes, she dozed off sometime in between only to wake up in pain again, though he had slept through most of it peacefully, which is why when he woke up, feeling her shiver in pain, he realised getting up a few minutes before his alarm rang wouldn’t be so bad, he could use the time to help her out, so while reaching for the ointment he had also shut off his alarm, knowing he wouldn’t be going to sleep once he helped her out.
.
“Ignoring you?” he asked, wiping another cup and handing it to her as she stacked it on the rack with a pout, “Well, not ignoring, he’s just…gone quiet like he’s giving me the silent treatment.” She explained, looking to see if Jongho, who was brooming was listening to them, only to find him staring at her, “Oh I don’t know maybe he’s upset about the fact that your ex-fiancé came here since you invited him?”
“Wait- WAIT WHAT?” Wooyoung gasped, turning to Jongho who nodded, “Soohyuk wanted to see her, and she won’t tell me why, she called him here and ironically he and San had entered at the same time, and instead of introducing him to Soohyuk she just talked to him and ignored San.”
“Man, I’m never gonna take an off again, so much drama in one day.” Was all Wooyoung had said, yet the poor boy got smacked with a tissue, before watching her stomp out of the café, leaving the two men staring at her confused.
“Umm…do we stop her?”
“Nah…” was all Jongho said, the only reason he even knew about this issue was because the moment he had seen Soohyuk enter he knew something was up, what he didn’t expect was for her to go to him instead of San, and ironically, she didn’t even introduce San, which confused him even more. The moment he had looked at the other man, he noticed the way his eyes had gone blank, void of any emotion, yet he could see the one hiding behind his eyes, he knew what he was thinking, one of the many things San had confessed to him about- once the two had become official and Jongho would keep tabs on him- was his fear of being left behind, knowing that one day, eventually everyone would leave him, even her. So, yes, when she had walked past the finance director like he was a mere stranger, he knew this would trigger San, he just didn’t know in which direction the river would flow.
A knock on the door caused the two to look up, Yeosang just sighed, “At this point, you should just fire Mingi.” Shaking his head at his friend San called out to the person, permitting them to enter, usually with the glass walls and door he could see who was on the other side, but for the past two days the blinds were lowered, concealing whatever was happening inside his office, much like whatever was happening inside his heart. The door opened to reveal someone he had been avoiding for the past few days, though he never said anything to make her leave.
Yeosang looked at San’s expression morph into displeasure, turning in his seat to find the man’s significant other standing there, quickly standing up he smiled at her, greeting her before excusing himself.
Honestly, she was surprised by Yeosang’s reaction, she thought he’d be upset with her, Jongho was upset with her and considering Yeosang and San were good friends, she presumed that San might’ve just told him about the issue, though maybe he didn’t or maybe he did and Yeosang is just very good at pretending.
“You could’ve called.” Was all he had said until he found her standing right next to him, her hands gripping onto the armrests of his chair, turning his swivel chair to face her, his eyes widening at the proximity, they were still at his workplace, what if someone barged in? What if Mingi came in?
“I can’t fall behind, I’m tired of falling behind.” She said leaning closer, not to kiss him, but to make sure he was still looking at her, she needed him to understand her perspective, needed him to understand her insecurities, “He knows about you.”
Scoffing in retaliation he leaned closer and hissed, “I don’t care if he does,” eyes scanning her face for any hint or gesture of insincerity, but he couldn’t see it, or perhaps his foolish heart had convinced him once more, deceiving him into making him believe she was his.
“Then why are you upset?” her hands let go of the chair, reaching for his, but he pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the chair as he stared up at her, “Falling behind? What do you mean by that, was this all a race or competition where you were trying to win him ba-
“Choose your words carefully Mr.Choi.” she cut him off, words seething with anger.
“Because they’re true?” coking his head to the side he noticed the way her hands were fisted at her sides, nails digging into her palms, “Tell me.”
“I…” letting out a shaky breath she looked at her shoes, no longer having the confidence to look at his face, “I couldn’t let him…I didn’t know what he was…going to say…I can’t lose you; I didn’t want to…he came to apologise…nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t want you to meet someone who never saw me the way you see me, what if you realised…that it wasn’t worth it anymore more…that it was a waste of time.” Walking over to the chair at the other end of the table she sat down, eyeing all his paperwork, “I…I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, I can’t hold you back just because I’m left behind all the time.”
He watched her intently, listening to each word, slowly realising what she meant, but he also came to another realisation, they were still walking on eggshells, especially around each other, choosing not to show their greys to each other, choosing to leave out the bad parts of the story, the poorly written scenes and the abrupt jump cuts, yet, this form of false perfection was what was making it worse for them, worse for him, especially when he knew that he no longer liked her. He no longer felt the same attraction- he felt more.
He was in love with her.
Turning to face her, he took a deep breath, his hands on the table, slowly reaching over to hold hers, his thumbs running soothing circles over her hands, “I…I was…I…I don’t want you to leave me too. Before you, there was someone else.”  He felt her go tense under his words, his eyes flickered to hers, noticing the settling anxiety, before he gave her a gentle smile, “Was…don’t worry, she didn’t want my heart anymore and I…I guess I didn’t want to give it to anyone anymore either. Until you came along, crying outside because you lost the key to your own apartment…I swear I was going to ignore you and leave, but…” Letting out a dry chuckle he glanced at the clock, she often did come by when it was lunch, maybe he’d take her somewhere special today, far from the office and the café, “I couldn’t, and I don’t know how…maybe because you were so patient with me, maybe I saw myself in you, I wanted to make sure you had someone to help you whenever you’d fall…but I was also scared that if I gave you my heart, you’d give it back and…f*ck Yeosang was right.” He sighed, giving up on where this was going, trying to pull his hands back but her grip tightened, causing him to look at her in surprise.
“He was…but I like it…I like that you’re a romantic, Sannie.” She smiled lacing their fingers together, “I won’t force you…but I need you to understand that I…I fell in love with you the day you unlocked my door for me… I just waited for the day you’d return the feelings…so yeah, I’ll confess, that I’ve loved you from the start.”
His eyes widened at the confession, face turning pink at the realisation, this must be love. The feeling that was brewing inside of him, ready to burst, this must be love. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy, he wanted to run to her and pull her close, almost engulfing her whole being, but his legs felt like jelly, this must be love. Though he didn’t need to get up, because she had come to him, smiling down at him as she cupped his face, her thumb stroking his cheek, he looked up at her through hooded eyes, enjoying the warmth, welcoming this nostalgic sensation, this must be love.
“I love you.” He whispered, hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her, holding onto her as if he were afraid, she’d disappear.
“It’s about time you realise.” Letting out a chuckle she leaned closer, brushing her lips over hers, about to say something when they heard a static sniff followed by a sob, both of them freezing in act.
“Mingi…how long have you been there for?”
“I forgot to tell you your mic was on…sir.”
.
“Couple’s activities?” he mumbled, staring up from his book, his reading glasses at the tip of his nose as his girlfriend at the edge of the bed, legs crossed with a magazine in her lap, successfully stealing yet another one of his hoodies. The glow of the lamp illuminated her innocent features, though he knew behind those sparkly eyes hid some agenda that he would soon regret, even though he loved her with all his heart, he had realised long before that being an only child meant that her parents had always kept her busy, books, movies, school, other activities, even got her a Jongho- now that Jongho had completely passed her onto him, it was his job to entertain his princess in the late hours of the night.
“So…like se-
“No, you pervert- my God, all men are the same.” She huffed picking up the magazine to show him the list on the glossy, extremely bright coloured paper, the glare of the lamp just making it more difficult for him to read, “That’s a long list- I’m not going skydiving- YOU AREN’T either.”
“Sheesh, fine, but we can try cutting your hair.”
His hand instinctively went to his luxurious onyx locks, he liked his hair the way it was, and he knew she did too, from how she’d run her fingers through it when they’d be lazing around, from how she’d play with his hair when he’d lay on her lap for a little nap, from how she’d tug and pull on it when they’d be…
“Just a trim!” she broke his chain of thoughts, crawling to him and slapping the magazine on his lap, “You said you needed a trim! And- and it’ll be free!” she smiled, giving him the cutest face she could muster, though he stared back at unamused.
“No.”
“I- but- Sannie,” whining she pointed at the small text, “It’s so intimate and it’s- it’s all about trust.” Grabbing his arm she shook him violently, he almost missed the early stages of their relationship, where she was still shy and nervous around him, now she’d gained the confidence to be bratty around him, even demanding they sleep at his place because ‘You have a bigger bathtub’, incorrect, he didn’t but maybe she just liked using his shampoo- not that he’d mind, he preferred her smelling like she belonged to him, his scent carrying around her.
“How about a free massage as well?”
"There. All done." He finally opened his eyes to stare at his reflection in the mirror, confused at first, then angered, then even a bit humoured, "Um...what do u think is different with this and my usual haircut?" It was his fault, it really was, he agreed to this nonsense and now…he even fell asleep when she was working on his shoulders, but that was before she cut- no chopped off his beautiful locks.
"I... I mean it's a bit different Sannie but I-" she tried to clarify, smoothening it down, only to flatten it and…perhaps make it a bit worse, see, the thing was, during her little barber role-play, she had realised she’d trimmed a bit too much on one side, so she had to even it out and that led to umm…well
'I look like a POTATO!" her glared at her through the mirror, face red with embarrassment.
"NOOO! U don’t" whining she leaned closer to peck his cheek but he pulled away, whipping his head in her direction to glare at her, then looked at his hair through the mirror again, hands going to pull on the short hair, it was so…short, "Please, I love you, I know you said haircutting is a couple's activity but- babe I"
Hearing a sniff, he stopped staring up at her reflection, he didn't mean for her to cry, but the way she was biting her lower lip tugged at his heart. "I-"
Before he could start a giggle escaped her and he stopped, glaring at her, his face blank like the first time they met, "Ma’am, is something funny?"
"No....Mr.Potato head"
.
“Good morning Mr.Choi - what's up with this cap" Mingi looked at his boss who zoomed past him into the office, tugging on his baseball cap, slamming the door behind him as he yelled.
"Nothing Mingi, whatever happens, DO NOT let Yeosang in my office today"
"He's already there, sir."
Frowning San turned to meet eyes with a familiar brunette, his chin in his palm as he sat on San’s seat, a little smirk ever so present as he eyed the taller man, all dressed up in a nice suit, the only thing odd about him was the smudged lipstick on his jaw, which he probably didn’t even know was there and the baseball cap.
"Your girlfriend dropped you off huh? Car trouble again?'" Yeosang asked, before pointing at his jaw, “You also got a little something there Mr.Choi, guess the black waistcoat is a fan favourite, huh?”
San quickly made his way to his desk, grabbing the chair the other man was on and rolling it away from his monitor, mumbling as he grabbed a few tissues to wipe off the lipstick, he couldn’t even be mad at her because it was his idea to follow couple’s activity #43 ‘Wear a lipstick shade your partner likes’, apparently, he liked it a bit too much.
After that little entrance, they’d been sitting peacefully, with San working away and Yeosang…well he was just wasting time as usual, though at least he had yet to ask the question.
“So, what’s with the cap”, Yeosang asked as he made an intricate paper plane with another one of San's documents, they were going in the shredder anyway.
The other man, pouted for a split second before clearing his throat, "My head feels cold." continuing typing like he didn't care.
"I see." Yeosang eyed him before throwing the plane at him, watching the pointy nib smack against the man's cap, earning a glare, "So, will you bring her as your plus one to this annual fundraiser? Has she cleared all your tests? Check marks all your boxes of requirements of a partner?"
Sighing he leaned back at the thought, did she? Was she the ideal partner he asked for? Sure, she was somewhat clumsy and bratty, but then again, he wasn't the best either, he was whiney and slow-witted at times but with what they two had been through, how much they had grown, how much she had grown, of course she'd been the one, he had come to this realization when he saw her waiting outside for him in the rain, 'worried about him'.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said eying the man who was too lost in thought as he got up to leave, "By the way she was wrong."
"Hmm?" he frowned at his friend who was dusting off his clothes, "You don't look cute, you do look like Mr Potato head".
.
“San, I swear upon your Benz, if you turn off the heater, I’ll key your car.” She shivered, pulling another blanket over them as he pushed it off, trying to reach over her for the remote of the heater only to slap his hand away, “YAH CHOI SAN”
“ITS HOT! AND STUFFY! I’M SWEATING LOOK!” he lifted his sweatshirt for-  honestly, she really forgot what his point was, a bit too distracted for her own good before he huffed and took it off completely, flinging it across the room, giving her all the blankets and laying on his back, “It’s barely even winter, and look at you. I said don’t go playing in the snow, you can barely withstand a cool breeze, you thought the snow was gonna go easy on you? You’re just like Wooyoung, both of you are the same with the snow and winter.”
“Well, not everyone has the body temperature of an old, grumpy cat, Sannie.” She huffed, scooting closer to him, trying to steal his body heat, the fabric of the quilt making his skin burn.
“OLD?”
“Well, I did call you Mr.Choi out of respect too, I thought you were wayyyyyyyyyyy older than me.” Turning his head on the pillow to look at her, he made a face, rolling his eyes at the innocent smile she gave him, the tip of her nose still pink, shrugging at him. Sighing he moved closer to her, much to her pleasure.
“Take off your pants.”
“You really are an old pervert-
“Couple’s activity #136, you genius.” He huffed manoeuvring so he was under the blankets with her.
“I refuse to accept we’ve done so many.”
“We haven’t, I tore out some pages because I was not going to do couple’s yoga on the balcony.”
“Ah…I see. Anyway, still not going to take off my pants because you’re a bit needy.” She sighed, when he pulled her closer, his body heat helping her shivering body calm down.
“Well, aren’t you just an innocent peach, activity 136 says sharing body warmth is important and intimate, you can use me as a human heater and I can use you like a cooling pack.” He said tugging at the band of her pants, helping her out of them, sighing when he felt her cold legs on his warm ones, making the blanket a bit more bearable.
“Who knew Sannie was so thoughtful.” She purred, nuzzling her face in his neck, earning a huff, his arms tightening around her, squeezing her until she let out an airy laugh in protest.
“I am very thoughtful.” He sighed, feeling her relax against him.
“That you are…Mr.Potato head.”
.
Huffing out in both frustration and bliss she stared up at the ceiling, the warm mood lights in her room, feeling him flopping down beside her, the bed trembling at the act.
“Tub’s filling up. You’re also out of bath bombs”
“Your tub is bigger- how many did you use this time?”
“No. It is not…. around four” He sighed laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling with her, his hands reaching for hers, knuckles brushing against hers before she slowly tangled their fingers together, “Thank you for taking me to your event tonight…I really liked it.”
“Thank you for being my plus one.” He smiled, thinking back to how when anyone and everyone there would ask him who she was he’d introduce her as his girlfriend, the love of his life, someone he potentially wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
“Though I believe making sure I can’t walk tomorrow is going to be a problem for me at work.”
“Couple’s activity #159.”
“Did it specify tearing my favourite dress?”
“No, but the San in the mirror who used to have nice hair told me to.”
.
Two years, she had been together with this man for two very happy years, yet he still could confuse her every time he asked her something very important, such as now, right in her café, well, technically she was in the storage closet, counting and restocking when he walked in unannounced.
“Umm…is there no one there to take your order, Sannie?” she asked, looking up at him, using a carton as a makeshift seat, clipboard in her lap, she didn’t even want to do it, but once again, she had lost an epic battle of rock paper scissors from not only Jongho, but Wooyoung as well. The man above her frowned before shaking his head, ever so quiet.
“Okay…was there no one to stop you from coming back here- in an employee-only area.” She asked as he shook his head again, before sitting down beside her on the floor legs crossed, now with the different of elevation, looking up at her with a frown.
“Okay…do you…want to say something?”
“What’s your five-year plan?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves before looking at her, his hands on his knees, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants.
“Ummm…well…what does that mean?” she asked, finally giving up on inventory to get on the floor with him, facing him, sitting in a similar position as she looked at him, noticing how he had closed the storage room door after entering, he needed privacy, so this was an important question to him.
“Where do you see yourself in Five years?”
Oh.
Her eyes widened at the question, throat drying up as she looked at anything but his face, he looked so serious, so focused, like what he had asked her was just like a business deal, well, maybe it was- but that wasn’t all it was, she knew what he meant, she knew he’d have his moments of self-doubt, he’d have moments where the crippling anxiety of having his heart smashed into pieces once more had him awake at night, he’d have his moments where he’d begin to fall, having nothing to hold onto- only this time, he had her.
“I see myself as a Mrs.Choi.”
His ears picked up the all-too-familiar name, his lips quirking up at the mention of his name, blushing like a school girl he almost squealed, leaning over to grab her hands and pull her closer, only his lack of judgement of strength had him pulling her onto his lap- or maybe that is what he wanted to do all along. All she knew was that she was merely inches away from him, his small dimpled smile gracing her with all its glory, “I think I see that too.”
“Yeah?” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap properly, “You see me as a Mrs.Choi?”
“No.” he smiled, locking his arms behind her waist as he noticed her small pout in confusion, pulling her even closer, until the tips of their noses bumped at the sudden jerk, “I see myself as your Mr.Choi.” His dimples deepened when she gasped, before closing the gap between them, leaving small pecks all over his face, leaving him a flustered, blushing mess as she smothered him with all the love that he had closed himself off to, all the love that was taken from him when his heart was tossed back at him, all the love she had in her that was never meant for anyone else other than him, all the love the two planned to share, for as long as they could, hoping it could bloom into something more beautiful one day.
“And I think I see you two getting out of my storage closet before I call the cops.”
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Taglist : @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
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reiderwriter · 9 months
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can i request a fic of pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer and they are both like 😳😳
the rest of the bau and other fbi agents are on the side making varies bets about who wins maybe too? (eg that miss congeniality scene)
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg thank you so much for this one specifically - I loved this idea. I had to make Spencer competitive too, because 😊 I wanted to.
Word count: 1.8k words
Warnings: none! Just fluff, however if anyone wanted to send a follow up request wanting a part two where there is some smut I'd be 100% okay with that... Just if you wanted to.
Part two
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When Morgan told you that, after an unfortunate shoulder injury you received on the job, you’d have to take another training course to prove that you were up to being back in the field, you almost resigned on the spot. Passing the first time hadn’t been the easiest feat for you, and while you were confident in your skills in the field, you knew that you were, to put it kindly, athletically challenged. 
“There’s no way to get out of it? No exceptions they can make to allow me into the field?” You asked, desperate to avoid Morgan putting you through the ringer. 
“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, but they’re worried about your ability to perform under pressure, so I gotta push you today, okay? You’re not alone, at least.” 
“I’m not?” you gave the man a questioning look as you followed him to the changing rooms reluctantly. 
“Nah, they pulled up Reid and Garcia as well, you’ll all be doing the work together today.” 
“What that’s ridiculous! Penelope isn’t even in the field and Reid has never passed one of these things.” You throw your bag down on a bench, and look ahead of you into the equipment room, and sure enough, there they are, looks of equal dissatisfaction spread across their faces. 
“You’re preaching to the choir here, sweet cheeks. You’re in good hands though, I’m not going to push you too hard today.” Somehow you didn’t believe that. 
–X–
An hour later you were flat on your back, panting harder than you had in months, dripping with sweat and feeling an ache in your bones that you hadn’t felt ever. Next to you on the ground, you could hear your fellow torturee’s moaning in pain, presumably doing their best to stay conscious. 
“You know, chocolate thunder, I love you, I really do, but you make it very, very hard sometimes,” Penelope squeaked out as the other man chuckled from above you. “God I’m not even asthmatic but I think I need an inhaler.” 
You chuckled at that and pushed yourself up to a seated position. 
“I think I am asthmatic.” Reid said form his position on your other side. You stole a glance at him quickly before blushing and looking away. You didn’t have a crush on him, or at least that was what you were telling yourself, but you did have a keen appreciation for how he looked in his button down shirts and FBI vests. His hair was shorter now than when you first met, and the longer parts stuck to his face with sweat. You were lucky that the strength had been all but zapped from your body because given the chance, you’d be pushing his hair out of his face for him and get lost in his eyes. 
“Come on, guys. You finished cardio, you finished weights, all you got left is some simple self defense drills. Think you can handle that?” Morgan laughed from above you. 
“No! I haven’t been able to handle any of this, what makes you think I can do more?” Reid moaned out on the floor next to you. You stood up, reluctantly, holding out a hand out to the man and helping to pull him to his feet. 
You underestimate the help he needed to get up, though and he has to catch you in his arms as soon as he’s up, as you stumble into him, legs too weak. You blush as the two of you stay uncomfortably close for a few seconds, only pulling apart when Morgan lets out a sharp cough. You jump back from each other then, and pray to god that no one else in the room saw the puppy dog eyes you were unintentionally shooting up at him. 
“Okay, so there’s three of you, so I’ll join in for these sparring drills. Any volunteers?” 
“To tangle my limbs with yours all hot and sweaty on the floor? Sweetie, I thought you’d never ask.” You hadn’t seen Penelope move so fast all day, though you knew she was only half joking. 
“Okay, so Y/L/N, Reid, you head over to that mat over there. You’re going to start a hand-to-hand combat simulation, whoever pins the other down first wins. We’ll do best of three, okay?” 
Reluctantly, you made your way to the mat he indicated to, knowing that you weren’t going to have as much fun as Penelope any time soon. 
“You’re going to start in a common self-defense scenario. Reid, you’re going to be the assailant, you’re going to come up on Y/L/N from behind, okay?” You nodded at Morgan’s words and turned yourself away from Reid, feeling his presence at your back already. 
“Is this really necessary?” He questioned from behind you, and you could practically feel Morgan’s answering look on your back. Finally, he rested a light hand on your shoulder, and your session started. 
You grabbed the hand on your shoulder and twisted it, and yourself, behind his back, gaining the upper hand quickly. 
“Y/N, come on. Take it easy, I’m exhausted. Just let me pin you and we can call it a day.” Reid said from in front of you and your ears burnt at his suggestion. 
“Wait, why would I let you pin me? I have the upper hand right now.” He huffed out a breath and twisted his body underneath your arm, catching you off-guard as he swept your legs from underneath you. Before you could fall all the way down, though, he grabbed you around your waist and held you in what you assumed looked like a ballroom dancing dip. 
“You were saying?” You desperately wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off of his lips. “Actually, I have a few years more experience in the field than you, and I was probably beaten up a lot more in high school, so I wouldn’t be too upset about losing to me, okay?” 
You returned his smile sarcastically for a second, before lifting and swinging the heel of your foot into his knee, forcing him to hit the mat as you scrambled out of his grip and repositioned yourself behind him, pulling him arm behind his back a second time in an attempt to subdue him. 
“If you have so much experience getting your ass kicked, Spence, why don’t you just let me do it?” You enjoyed feeding his words back to him as he moaned out a little. 
“Because something tells me you’d enjoy it a little too much.” He somehow slips from your grip again, swiping your legs out from underneath you and climbing over you. The two of you struggle for a few seconds on the floor, but he has your legs pinned with his own, and he forces your hands above your head. Your heads are even with one another, and you’re both breathing heavily now. 
You decide to take another approach to get out of his hold this time. Rolling your hips up into his slightly, you let your eyes rake over his body above you. 
“You sure you’re not enjoying this just as much, Reid?” you shoot him an innocent enough smile, but you can see the flush staining his skin, and he loosens his hold on you just enough to allow you to wrap your legs around his waist and use your bosy weight as leverage to flip your positions. 
Now he’s on his back below you and you sit up in triumph, straddling his lap. His arms fight to get yours pinned to your side but you give back just as much as he is, and you can feel the crowd forming around you. He decides to fight dirty as well. 
“Thought you’d enjoy being under me more than you’d like being on top. I was being a gentleman,” he huffs out and manages to flip you over once more, pushing up and wrapping his legs up over your knees and forcing you onto your back. Your legs are now spread wide for him, his crotch pushed against yours, his arms gripping yours and pushing them firmly into the mat. You struggle a few more times but you know this is it. He’s got you. 
“What? Not even going to let my hands go to let me tap out?” you huff out, blowing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. He pins both of your hands with one of his and gently tucks the hair behind your ear for you as you burn up under his touch, suddenly at a loss for words. 
“What, and let you try to tackle me again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you go.” 
“Y/L/N, Reid, if you’re finished over there, you can grab a drink and start over. I did say this was going to be best of three.” Both of you suddenly snap your eyes up to Morgan, who has one raised eyebrow pointed at you. You realise that you’ve also drawn the attention of the other gym-goers and scramble away from each other to the sound of chuckles and wolf whistles. 
“Shit,” you run a hand through your hair and get in position to go again, this time swapping with Reid so you take the position of the unsub. 
From a distance, you don’t realise that Penelope and Morgan have completely given up on their own drills. 
“Twenty bucks says Reid gives in and kisses her first,” she whispers to her companion. 
“The kid? No way, he’s being too cocky for that. I reckon Y/N will do it to try and distract him first.” 
“I’ll take that bet,” Garcia says, and they settle back into watching the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re both enjoying sparring a little bit more than you normally would be. 
“When do you think I should tell them that they never needed to do this training session in the first place?” 
“Derek Morgan, if you are admitting right now that you made me walk through hell and back just so you could force these two beautiful idiots whom I love to recognise their feelings for each other then I am going to murder you and then bring you back to life so I can kiss you for being so smart.” 
“So I shouldn’t tell them?” 
“Take it to the grave, baby.” 
They turned their attention back to you, suddenly way more invested in how this was going to turn out.
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stvolanis · 4 months
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toxic!farleigh start PLEASE I BEG OF YOU😫😫
I hear you, I hear you! love me some toxic men…angst with smut!!! kinda fluff at the end if you squint.
FWB Farleigh Start! who you’ve been having sex with since he began attending Oxford, but he was gracious enough to extend an invitation to stay with him in saltburn; but no strings attached, obviously.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who fucks you into oblivion nearly every night, not bothering to pull out since he put you on the pill. He’ll mutter the sweetest things to you while he pounds into your sore, overused pussy. “Love you s’much, baby. Love this fuckin’ pussy.” He’d say in your ear, his voice husky before kissing your shoulder. Almost as if you were lovers.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who when he’s done rutting his cum in all of your holes, cleans you up and leaves a kiss on your head; sparing you one last glance before he leaves you alone for the night to go to his room. Your heart broke each and every time he walked out of the room.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who won’t make whatever it is you have official, but won’t let you see anyone else besides him and throws bitch fits when he sees you talking to Felix, and god forbid, Oliver. It sparks arguments and harsh words, yet it just ends up with make-up sex.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who loves you more than he loves himself, yet he can’t bring himself to be in a relationship with you in fear of him hurting you. But, he doesn’t wanna see you with anyone else, so while you’re asleep he unlocks your phone and goes through your contacts, deleting the ones he feels like he has to worry about.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who smirks to himself as he watches your brows furrow in confusion when messages you swore were there, are suddenly gone.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who you see dancing with a redhead dressed in a slutty nurse costume at one of the parties at Saltburn. He could see the hurt dance across your face, the tears well up in your eyes. How badly he wanted to just go up to you, look you in your pretty little eyes and tell you that he’s only ever wanted you.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who can’t accept his feelings for you, so fearful of the unknown. He’s never felt the way he feels about you for anyone else, and it scares him. So, he lets the red headed tramp lead him up the stairs to a spare bedroom.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who freezes when the red head perches herself on his lap. Knowing she isn’t you, he pushes her off and swings the door open, storming down the stairs, looking desperately around for you.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who finally finds you, yet you’re in the arms of the person he despises the most with tears running down your cheeks. Something Oliver says makes you laugh through your tears, and Farleigh swears he felt a pang in his chest.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who, on impulse, drags you away from Oliver; obviously not before throwing profanities at him.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who throws you onto your bed, both of your wrists held above your head by just one of his large hands, his fingers adorned with pretty rings. His other hand making quick work of shimmying off your shorts and white panties.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who fucks you with 3 of his fingers while whispering the dirtiest things to you. “Such a slut, hm? Fuck anyone who’ll give you attention?” He taunted. “No one can make you feel this good with just their fingers, honey.” He said as he licked his lips, watching the way your pussy soaked his fingers, the sound echoing in the air.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who makes you cum at least 4 times with just his fingers till he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. “You’re mine. Get that through your pretty fuckin’ head.” He said through gritted teeth. You nodded your head, a babbling, whimpering mess under him.
FWB Farleigh Start! Who sleeps next to you that night for the first time and whispers sweet nothings to you as his hands trace little stars on your back. Maybe things would change. Just maybe.
don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!
tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @salepso
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode six: the spy
Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 
Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.
Rating: general, violence and swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more
Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)
Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao
-
You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.
An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”
Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 
“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 
Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.
“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 
You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 
Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 
“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 
Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 
Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”
“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”
You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”
Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 
After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”
“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”
You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 
“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”
– 
You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 
Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”
“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 
“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”
You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”
“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 
“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”
“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”
Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”
Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?
You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 
Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 
Damn him. 
You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 
“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”
He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”
“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”
You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 
Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”
“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”
“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”
Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”
“No, you hid Dart from me.”
“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”
“Nope.”
Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”
You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 
Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”
“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”
Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”
And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”
You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”
He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 
You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 
They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely. 
Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 
“Hey–” 
“Sorry, my room is here.” 
“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 
“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 
As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 
When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”
“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”
“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 
Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”
“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”
“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 
Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.
Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”
“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.
Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 
“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 
He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 
“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.
You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 
Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 
“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”
You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”
Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”
He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 
“Are you shy right now, Steve?”
“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 
You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 
It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 
“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 
“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 
“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 
“Then our sleepover can commence?”
You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”
Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 
However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”
“I’m having… problems.” 
Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”
There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 
You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 
“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 
More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 
“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”
“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 
This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”
He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”
Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”
“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”
You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”
“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”
You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 
“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 
As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”
You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”
“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”
He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”
“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 
Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”
Missed.
“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”
“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 
But you’re fucking terrified. 
You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 
If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 
But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 
To try is to be human.
And you really, really missed Steve. 
“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 
“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 
You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”
Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”
“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 
“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”
Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 
You frown. “What’s your point?” 
“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 
He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 
Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 
“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 
Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”
“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 
“Touche.” 
Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 
“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”
This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 
Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 
You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 
Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 
“Always,”
“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”
Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”
Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 
Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 
You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Always,” you echo. 
“I just want to be loved.” 
With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 
The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 
Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 
While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.
You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 
Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”
He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 
It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.
“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 
The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 
It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.
As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.
This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”
The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”
You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.
And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 
Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”
Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”
“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”
“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”
As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”
The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 
Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”
Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?
For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 
You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.
Who are you if you have?
The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?
The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 
“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”
Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 
You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.
– 
You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 
Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 
Dustin confessing about Dart. 
Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 
Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 
Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 
Dart going missing. 
And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 
The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  
You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 
The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”
Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 
Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 
“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 
“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 
You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.
“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 
“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”
You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 
“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 
He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 
“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 
He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 
You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 
“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 
“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?” 
“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 
Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.
“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.
You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”
“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.
“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”
Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.
“What?”
He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.
“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 
“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 
In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.
“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”
In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”
“Yeah, why?” 
As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”
Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 
Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 
“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”
Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”
He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 
“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 
Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”
You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 
“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 
“But–” 
“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.
“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 
Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”
“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.
“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 
“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 
Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 
Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”
Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 
Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 
“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 
As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 
“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 
The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 
Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 
As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 
“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 
“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.
Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 
“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 
The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 
“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.
Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”
And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 
If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 
Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.
“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 
“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”
Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 
There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”
“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!” 
“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 
Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”
He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 
Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 
Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 
And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 
“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 
“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 
Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”
The tone in his voice terrifies you. 
You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 
“Yes, Dustin?”
“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”
“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 
Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”
“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”
“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”
“You saved her life?”
“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”
Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.
If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 
Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.
“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 
“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”
“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 
The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 
It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 
“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 
Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 
The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 
“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 
“Sleepers?”
“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 
“You would know what they’re called.”
“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”
You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.
“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 
Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 
You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 
“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 
Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”
“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 
True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 
Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 
He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 
You guys had one emotional conversation. 
“Y/N?” 
Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 
“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 
Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 
“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 
You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 
“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.
“Y/N?”
“Hi, Lucas!” 
Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 
“Says you,” you butt in. 
“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 
“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 
“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 
There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”
Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.
“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 
“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 
Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”
You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 
Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.
You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 
It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.
You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 
“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.
You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 
“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 
He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.
You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.
“It was for this girl.” 
Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”
Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”
“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”
Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”
Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.
“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 
“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 
Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 
“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 
“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”
You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 
It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 
Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 
“Shit…”
“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”
Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 
They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 
After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 
Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”
“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 
“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 
“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.
Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”
Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”
“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 
“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 
“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 
Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 
“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 
Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 
“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”
“Even if you do?”
“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”
“Then what?” 
“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 
He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”
Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”
Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 
“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.
As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”
Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 
“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 
“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”
Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”
Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 
Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 
So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 
Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”
“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 
The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 
Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 
“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 
Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”
Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”
“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”
“I slept on her bean bag–”
“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”
How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 
He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 
In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.
Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 
He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”
Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 
“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 
You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.
“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 
Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”
Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 
“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.
Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 
“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 
You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 
Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 
Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”
His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”
Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 
The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 
“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 
The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 
“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 
You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”
“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 
“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 
Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 
“I did not!”
“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”
You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”
Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 
In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 
Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 
You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”
He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 
You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 
The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 
“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 
“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 
Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 
You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 
For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 
– 
By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 
It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 
You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”
Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 
Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.
Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”
The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 
“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.
“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 
You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”
Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 
As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 
After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 
“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”
“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 
You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 
“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”
Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”
A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”
“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 
Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 
Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”
“Language!” You chastise. 
Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”
Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 
Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”
“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”
Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”
Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”
“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”
“A year?” Lucas gasps. 
“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”
“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 
After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 
All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 
“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 
“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 
“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 
You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 
Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.
You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 
Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 
“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 
You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”
Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 
Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.
Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 
After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”
Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”
“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”
“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”
Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”
You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”
“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”
Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 
“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”
“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”
“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”
“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”
Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”
“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”
You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 
It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 
Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 
You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 
“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 
You shake your head. “No,”
There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 
“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.
“Hold on!” The boy responds. 
Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 
Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 
From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”
There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.
He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 
“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 
“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 
You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 
It has to work. 
However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”
“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 
Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”
Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”
“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”
“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”
“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”
Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 
Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”
“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”
“Y/N!”
“I love you!”
Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.
You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 
Steve saved your life last year. 
Now it’s your turn. 
It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”
He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 
“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 
“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”
“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”
You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”
Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”
“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.
“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.
You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 
Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 
Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 
You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 
For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 
From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”
“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 
The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”
“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.
“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 
“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”
Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 
Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 
You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 
“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 
It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 
“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 
You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”
Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 
Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.
One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.
You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”
“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 
“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 
He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 
As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 
Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 
Awesome. Cool. 
The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.
“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 
Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”
Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”
“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”
“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 
Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 
Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 
“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 
“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 
Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”
“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 
Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”
“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”
Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 
The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 
Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.
He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 
Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 
“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.
Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 
Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 
“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.
“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”
“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”
“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 
“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”
Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 
You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”
“I’ll try,” 
Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 
Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 
“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.
“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 
You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 
“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.
“I had to even out a debt.” 
“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”
Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 
“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 
“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 
He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 
“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 
“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 
Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”
“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”
“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 
Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”
“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”
“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.
You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 
-
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491 notes · View notes
catiuskaa · 4 months
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had to make sure you’d catch it.
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SUMMARY: no one expected jeongin to be the first to marry in the group, but furthermore, no one expected minho to be the one to ask you first, and certainly not like that.
REQUESTED! by a pookie anonnie right here. fluff!!! minho!!! yess!!! we love to see it. tysm for this, hope you like it as much as I did! <3
CW: use of sarcasm (because yes?), use of very stupid humour (because it makes everything better), one (1) mention if hyunlix (just for funsies) the one and only beyoncé is mentioned once (yes this is a warning because it’s a silly joke but it’ll make sense i promise) and welp, WEDDINGS MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️🗣️ WTF IS A COMMITMENT 👹👹👹/jkjk
WC: 2.1k
A/N: can someone tell jypapi that now I need more of Lee Know in suit and tie? thanks ^^
[☆◽️💐◽️☆]
Weddings.
Ah, yes.
That motherfucker.
It’s not like you had anything against the people that were marrying each other —God, no! Good for them!—, but rather how seeing husband and wife looking flawless and so in love made you feel.
Lonely.
As fuck.
But it all changed when you went to a wedding with a plus one for the first time. Well, he had been invited to a wedding, and you happened to be around and free.
It had been not too soon before you two started dating, but a small part of your brain knew that if you hadn’t seen Lee Minho in that gorgeous tuxedo that evening, or maybe before, when he blushed as he asked if you were free, then perhaps your choices would’ve been different —which was a blatant lie, because you were and still are head over heels for him, but we’ll keep it for comedian purposes—, because damn did that man look good in a suit.
It was when you entered the venue with him by your side, the flutters of going with your friend and crush to a wedding, of all places… the flowers, the setting, and, oh, the couple.
Everything was beautiful. It almost made you feel like you were the main character, the bride, despite the obvious knowledge that it could only be that gorgeous woman dressed in white, unlike you, in a short and fitted dress in a dark blue hue, matching your companion’s tie.
“I never would’ve thought you liked weddings so much.” Minho whispered in a soft snicker, as teasing as always, eyes fixated in the way you seemed to glow.
But you two were sat next to each other as the officiant spoke, and he was leaning close to you, his lips right by the shell of your ear, and Jesus Christ in motorbike, because he looked outstanding, and oh my god, because his hand was resting on your leg, warming up your body, that was also covered by his suit jacket because poor you had underestimated how cold a church could be, even in the end of summer.
‘Liked’ weddings? You would have cackled loudly if the setting had been more appropriate. If it meant that Minho would treat you like that every single day, you’d fucking marry one.
But instead, you chuckled softly, laying your hand on his, the one that still rested right above your knee, and you leaned too, silently reeling in the smell of his cologne.
“Never thought you’d take me to one.”
And it was not like you were going to know too soon, but to Minho, in that moment, time seemed to freeze as he stared at your features.
You smiled at him, and it had been like always, but to him, it was the most gorgeous smile he had ever had the pleasure to see, let alone cause, and it made his heart feel tight on his chest, a blush that ran to his cheeks and ears, as red-tinted as your lips, so sweet-looking that Minho had to hold back not to kiss you, keeping him from checking if they’d taste just like how they looked.
He didn’t just want to take you to weddings.
And with that thought in mind, months later, after several dates going coffe shop to coffe shop, falling in love with you, with the soft and soothing tone you spoke to his pets and how beautiful you looked like in his house, happily petting Soonie, he knew then and there that his house wasn’t his home anymore.
You were.
And he kissed you tenderly that night, struggling to find a way to express these feelings with words.
So it made both of you feel very giddy when years later, another wedding showed up.
“You’ve gotta be fucking with me.” He had mumbled, reading the mail as he entered back home. “Jagi, I’m home!” He stated loudly, the cats meowing him welcome.
You came from your study room, leaving an email half written to welcome him back for the day. He handed you the mail, but not before pecking your forehead.
“What’s going on?” You smiled softly in slight confussion, to which he grinned at you, head tilted to the first letter in the bunch.
You stared at it, your eyes turning wide, and read the sentence a couple times.
“There’s no way.” You covered your mouth, laughing in disbelief. “Our little Innie is getting married?”
“I think I lost a bet to Hyunjin.” Minho chuckled.
“Have you called him?” You smiled, excited, cheerfully going back to your study to pick your phone.
“I just saw that idiot back in JYP, he didn’t even tell us!”
Two months. Yang Jeongin, little baby bread, was marrying his now fiancé in two fucking months.
Minho couldn’t believe it, nor could you.
And then, as soon as autumn started to arrive, the first leaves turning different tones of red and yellow, falling to the ground.
Then, the wedding date came by.
[☆◽️💐◽️☆]
You embraced Jeongin’s wife in a tight hug.
“How does it feel?” You mumbled giddily, feeling Minho’s arm go back to your waist as soon as you let go of the beautiful woman dressed in white.
He’d been extra clingy the whole venue, and you had loved and cherished every moment of it. You both knew what that first wedding had meant for the other, all those years ago. It made your tummy fill with butterflies, ones that had been there ever since Minho swooshed your way.
The bride grinned happily, trying hard not to cry so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup.
“It’s like a dream I’m about to wake up from.” She snickered, cheeks covered in a pink hue that couldn’t be hidden with the light foundation she was wearing. “But you’ll get it quite soon, right?” She muttered with a smile, as if in confidence, like sharing a secret you were supposed to know.
“Ah?” But you were clueless.
Before realizing she could’ve fucked up a major canon event, his husband called her from affar, busy dealing with all the guests and the photographer, a tall man with little to no patience and lots of angry italian gestures.
“C’mon, quick.” Minho grinned next to you. “Let’s get to the chocolate fountain before someone eats all the strawberries.”
You two chuckled, sprinting towards the large set of tables and the main table, filled with different types of fruits and cheeses.
“Mmhhm!” You hummed, the warm chocolate melting on your mouth, mixing with the sweetness of the strawberry. “We really need one of these back at home.”
You two giggled and ate a couple more strawberries.
“You have chocolate in your mouth.” Minho mumbled.
You turned to face him, and he snickered, his hand traveling to your face and kissing the corner of your lip, cleaning it.
The chocolate tasted better like that anyways.
You felt your face flush, and you tutted at him playfully.
“You can look, not touch,” you mumbled with a toothy grin. “I spent so much time pissing off the makeup artists back at their place, I can’t have you ruin my lipstick, sir.” You chuckled teasingly.
“I can’t?” Minho raised his eyebrows, and you felt small under his stare, like a little prey. “Really?”
You blushed, pouting. “Minho, not fair.”
He laughed loudly at you, and then back hugged you.
“We should move before they realize we ate half of the strawberries.” He mumbled next to your ear, and cheekily nibbled on it for a second.
You giggled at his antics, and went back to where everyone was settled, joining and taking a couple of pictures with the group.
Your smile widened looking at them, groom and bride, who casually rambled about something you couldn’t hear.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Your boyfriend grinned curiously next to you.
You looked at him, your heart fluttered.
Weddings didn’t feel lonely anymore.
“They look so cute together.” You sighed. “So beautiful.”
Minho sighed too, his arm swiftly going back to your shoulders.
“Very.” He muttered softly. He wasn’t talking about the couple.
Laughter and conversations filled the air as guests, dressed in their finest, mingled beneath the gentle glow of twinkling lights.
“It’s time for the bouquet throw!” A loud voice announced.
You looked at Minho and winked teasingly.
“Hold my purse.” You smirked in between giggles. “This one’s mine.” He blushed at your determination.
It wasn’t that you had forgotten what catching the bouquet meant, rather just casually left that thought at the back of your mind.
Minho almost shivered, barely cathing your bag.
Marrying you?
Something felt heavier on the pocket of his jacket.
You settled in the group of women that stood a couple of feet away from the bride, who was laughing and pointing at someone in the midst of the girls.
“Good luck, ladies!” A low voice made you cackle loudly.
“Good luck, Felix!” You chuckled. “Good one, Hyune!” You sent a thumbs up to Hyunjin, and he laughed, blushing.
With excitement bubbling in the air, the moment arrived slowly, almost painfully so. A hush fell over the gathered guests, their eager eyes fixed on the radiant bride. She held the bouquet, a bundle of beautiful daisies, like a symbol of wishes waiting to be granted. With a grin, she turned around, and a playful spark lit up her eyes.
Full of anticipation, she raised the bouquet high above her head. Time seemed to pause for an instant, and then, with a joyful toss, she…
She… stopped?
You didn’t have time to frown in confusion when she turned around again.
The guests that had been crowded around you moved away, and the bride giddily walked towards you.
She squealed. “This is so cute. Here, girl. It’s yours.”
And she handed you the bouquet.
You blabered confused sounds of vowels, not quite understanding what was happening yet.
Gasps and other surprised reactions filled the venue, and you looked around, wondering what was all the fuss about.
“Sorry to ruin the fun, jagi.” A known voice sounded tenderly behind you, and then he giggled. “I had to make sure you’d catch it.”
With your eyes wide and your features displaying a soft grin of surprise, you turned around to face him.
“I fell in love with you in a wedding.” He started. “Not really, considering I had been pinning for you long before, which Felix never hesitated to say how down bad I was for you and how blind I was for not addmitting it.”
Your eyes swelled with tears, your hands covering your mouth. “M-Minho…”
He sniffed, holding back his own, a blush deep on his face.
“I fell in love with you over and over again, in every date we went to and every time you came by my appartment to say hi to the cats, claiming that you felt like they missed you, when it was most likely me who did.” He stared at his hands, fidgeting with them, his palms feeling sweaty.
He raised his head then, and stared deeply into your eyes. He chuckled, falling in love with you once more.
“I have a feeling that, over the course of our lives together, I will fall in love with you as many times as there are stars in the sky.” Minho smiled tearfully, a lump on his throat. “Over and over again.”
You started laughing as tears fell down your cheeks. He bent down on one knee, and your pulse faltered for a moment.
“Will you marry me?”
Because in your first wedding together, he did’t just want to take you to weddings and see other people getting married.
He wanted to marry you.
“Minho, I-” you sobbed, smiling. “Yes! Please!” You chuckled.
He hugged you tightly, and of course, just to make sure you knew who you were getting married to, he teased you.
“Like the one and only godess, Beyoncé, said once,” he mumbled in your ear, “if you like it and you’re sure, put a ring on it.”
“Minho!” You squirmed in between chuckles. “That’s not how the lyrics go!”
He shrugged. “English is hard,” he giggled. You laughed too, pulling him into a kiss.
You sure loved an idiot. But it was your idiot fiancé, soon to be your idiot husband.
Yours only.
[☆◽️💐◽️☆]
~Kats, who hasn’t been in a wedding since 2018, and i think it kinda shows lol
675 notes · View notes
popquizhot-shot · 10 months
Text
EVERYTHING IS FINE- Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
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this is it. angsty asf. bittersweet ending it’s sad people. tw: infidelity. based on my most recent post. please comment i’m literally begging you and tell me how you like it<3
In the depths of your heart, you already know. Your Miguel is not yours anymore.
You remember the stolen glances between him and Dana where you pretended not to notice the palpable tension between the three of you amidst the throng of about ten other people in the house.
It was a nice dinner that you’d planned, after spending almost a week away because of your actual job as well as your little side gig that was being a part of spider society.
But fifteen minutes into the little shin-dig and you get a call from none other than your boss. Not the nice one who showed you the ropes when you first joined and provided you with hours of mentorship. The bitch that was a variant of your husband was currently floating above your watch as you glared at him in the bathroom.
“We need you.”
“Not today.”
“It’s an emergency.”
“It’s always an emergency.” you roll your eyes.
“Look this was unplanned, you think my life’s aim is to torment you?”
“Kind of.” you nod and he groans, “Give me twenty minutes.”
——
At the end of twenty minutes, you storm out of your house as quietly as you can, yes it’s an oxymoron but you’re pissed off.
At Miguel, at your husband, at yourself.
Your mother always said that you were one to pity yourself, even when every bad thing that happened was the result of your own actions. All your life you’ve disagreed, but now you think that maybe your mother was probably right.
None of this would have happened if you’d just said no. No to Dana making her way into your marriage to her guy best friend and co-worker.No to the variant of him with fangs and red eyes and No to your own urge of fucking things up because you wanted to see what happened. If maybe what your heart felt was wrong. That there was nothing wrong with you and Miguel, that he still loved you.
You let out a shaky breath and open a portal from an alleyway behind your apartment building. The purple hue reflects onto your face. No, you weren’t a spider. Just a traveller that stumped your boss and changed his perception of everything he knew about the multiverse.
The man himself nodded at you as you stepped onto the platform he was standing on, looking back to the holo of what looked like a rogue Doc Ock, Goblin and another Spiderman.
“What, now we have evil spidermen? Isn’t that breaking the canon?” you raise an eyebrow.
“That’s the thing. There’s no canon event broken. He was meant to be a villain. Yet, I’ve never heard of him, or of this universe.”
You look at him like he’s just told you that he used to be a stripper in college and all his money came from his side-gig, “I’m sorry, what? The all powerful Miguel O’Hara with the pixel suit doesn’t know of the existence of a universe?”
“You’re being real helpful right now.” he grumbles.
“Thank you, I knew you’d appreciate the help.”
——
The house is quiet when you walk in, evidently everyone has left. The kitchen has been cleaned and the lights are off.
He’d always been your biggest supporter. Always so humble even though he had a high position and a fat paycheck, always telling you to let him help you. Doing some of your work for you when you were busy.
The bedroom door creaked a little as you enter, the sound of your loves breathing makes you crack a small smile. His hulking figure curled up and moving up and down. His face slack.
God he was so beautiful.
You shed your clothes and go through your night routine as fast as you can. Brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face. Cursing the pimples that always make their way onto your forehead at the wrong time.
The mattress squeaks as you get on, slowly wrapping your hands around his body. He stirs and looks up at you, his eyes softening. He’d been drinking, you can tell. He hasn’t looked at you like this for a while.
“Hi.” his hands cup your face and you smile softly as you kiss his rough palm. Your own covering his.
“Sorry I disturbed you. Thank you for cleaning up.” your hands mirror his actions, thumbs caressing his cheekbones.
He answers you with a soft kiss. And then another. And his hands are travelling down to pull you to him. Engulfing you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. Your hands move to play with his hair as he drifted back to sleep.
You close your eyes and pretend that everything is fine. That the lipstick stain on his shirt in the laundry basket wasn’t the same as Dana’s.
———
“Are you fucking dumb?” O’Hara seethes, as he disinfects the gash at the bottom of your neck.
“It’s just a graze, i’m fine.” you grumble, “it’s not like anyone’s gonna care if i die.”
“No, just shut your mouth. Stop talking like you’re some martyr. There are plenty of people here who would miss you.”
“Miguel, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” you chuckle, “i get it-
“No, you don’t. actually, you don’t get it. the woman i loved died, and she’s gone and i’d do anything to have her back, and you’re so convinced that if you died your own fucking husband wouldn’t want to die too? Stop acting like you’re expendable.” his eyes glow and yours widen, “This may come as a surprise to you, but people care.”
You gulp, “Sorry.”
He grumbles under his breath as he sprays the wound with bacta so it heals faster. Apologising when you wince.
You look at his concentrated face that is focused on wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and the bottom of your neck. His face is mere inches from yours. He is the splitting image of your husband, save from the red eyes and fangs. But this close you can see the differences, his eyebrows are a tad thicker and his ears are smaller.
He is harder and his words are sharp. Your love is soft and quiet. Mean when he has to be, but kinder. More open.
More loving. Yes. He’s more loving and he loves you.
You look away and focus on the ceiling. You don’t see his eyes watching your face. Eyes filled with sadness and want.
——
“Dana, here. Have some tea.” you pour a cup for the woman sitting next to Miguel at the table. At your spot.
Is it toxic to think that maybe you want her to choke on her tea?
She’d started to carpool with Miguel a few months ago , seeing as they worked together and were on the same team, it was more efficient and made more sense.
You didn’t want to seem like a toxic wife so you nodded and agreed, because you were secure in your relationship with your husband.
“Thank you.” she says your name with a wide smile as she sips the tea, “Amazing, as always.”
“I know right, she makes amazing tea.” he smiles at her and raises an eyebrow. Dana snorts.
You look between the pair trying to hide their smiles, “Did I miss something?” an awkward smile makes its way onto your face.
“Inside joke, you wouldn’t get it. It’s a scientist thing. I don’t think your writer brain could handle it.” Dana waves you away as if you’re a fucking waiter and you bristle.
But what drives it home is that Miguel laughs out loud when she says that. His hair flops onto his forehead and Dana fixes it for him, her hands running through this hair.
You fight the urge to break a plate on her head but you know it’ll be fruitless. Because your husband will take her side.
Maybe you’re just being dramatic. Maybe the tears you’re trying to hide as you make breakfast are unwarranted and you can’t take a joke.
Everything is fine.
You call out to them from the kitchen, telling them you’re going to be late and his voice is brighter when he says, “Okay, honey.”
—————
“You okay?”
“I’m fine, boss.”
“You look dead.”
“Your eyes bags suggest the same.”
“You’re hilarious.” O’Hara smirks
“Thank you.” you take a sip of the beer he’d passed.
It was late, far past dinner time. And the both of you had taken time to go over the record of what anomalies were most common and key weaknesses in most villains.
“But seriously, are you okay?”
You gulp, “Tell me about your wife. Please.”
He blanches, and then looks at the tears welling up in your eyes.
“Well, where to begin?” he turns to face you, “She…was a writer, she had her own business. She loved sunflowers because they faced each other when the sun wasn’t in the sky.” he smiles sadly, “she was terrified of frogs and dead fish. And she hated onions. The pickiest fucking eater.” he shakes his head and chuckles.
“She sounds sweet.” you know she was variant of you, Miguel had shown you the web of life and in every universe there was version of you that made their way into his life. It was beautiful, honestly.
“She had short hair, and her smile. God, it could make anyone’s day better.” he rested his head on his hand and looked at the hologram shining in front of the both of you.
“She sounds like a dream.” you reply.
“She was.” he nods.
“Hey would you mind bringing up a live of my house?” you ask.
“Why?”
“Humour me, will you?”
He grumbles and a hologram showing your universe pops up, on the screen is your living room. And Miguel freezes when he sees the scene before him.
He sees himself kiss Dana. The version of him who is married, is kissing his co-worker. He’s taking her in his arms and nuzzling her nose. He’s pecking her cheeks and tickling her like she’s his wife.
Like he’s in love with her.
“I love you.” his voice echoes throughout the room. And Dana says it back.
His head whips to look at you. You don’t look surprised, rather, you look defeated. You breathe out like it’s a finality. Your beautiful beautiful eyes transfixed on offending scene in front of you.
Before anything else happens, he shuts it off. Immediately turning to look at your frozen form, “Hey, you with me?”
You shake your head and smile. Eyes still fixed onto where the hologram was, “I’m fine.” Tears fall down your cheeks as your mouth quivers, “I’m okay. Everyday he comes back around this time. And they carpool. I told him I’d be late today. Just after I made them tea and they laughed at an inside joke amongst themselves.”
His eyes widens, “Oh honey.” his moves to hug you and you let out an ugly sob, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I knew it.” you say into his chest, “I’m so fucking stupid.”
His hand pats your back, “You’re not stupid.”
“I mean, I know i was busy, i know i wasnt always home. But I tried, i fucking tried. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITB ME?” the dam breaks and you let out a wrecked shout of agony that breaks his heart into two, “Why wasn’t I good enough?!” your body shakes violently.
“No.” he says firmly, taking your face in his hands, almost squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to looking at him, your hands fly to cover his, “ You are good enough. You are enough. Listen to me. That fucking idiot doesn’t know who he just lost.”
“But-But if i wasnt so busy-
“If he had a problem, he should’ve told you. He’s a fucking pussy.”
Your words are silenced when he shakes you once, hands still holding your cheeks, “You are the most perfect person. And the both of them will pay. I promise that, cariño.”
His arms wrap around you to engulf you as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, rapid breaths slowing. His pulse beats and you can feel the vibrations on your own skin.
You close your eyes and pretend everything is fine. Because you’re in his arms.
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sleekista · 4 months
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tears streaming down your face
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barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader
request: here
A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.
also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.
Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.
“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.
“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.
“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.
“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”
“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”
As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.
Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.
“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.
When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.
You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.
You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.
You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.
“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.
“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.
“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”
“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”
“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.
“Would you come to Germany?”
“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.
“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.
“Do you want it to be?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.
“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.
You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.
- - - - -
You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.
Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.
She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.
She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.
More like a certain Wolfsburg player.
Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.
Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.
- - - - -
It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.
Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.
“We’re taking her, bye!”
You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.
“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.
“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.
“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.
“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”
“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.
“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.
“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.
“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.
“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”
She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.
- - - - -
You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.
As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.
By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.
Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.
—————————————————————————
i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team
also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️
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bugsbia · 8 months
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ʚ NSFW Alphabet with Scaramouche
ʚ BEFORE READING: Fem reader, Scara is pretty rough in this one since it's focused on Fatui era Scaramouche. Will probably also do a Wanderer and Kabukimono era versions. Also, to anyone who has sent a request, I will be getting to those <3
ʚ WARNINGS: Scara is distant and mean!! Just don't read this if you can't handle rough kinks<3
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Scaramouche does not like his aftercare, he thinks it's another pointless human ritual that he see's no point in, human emotions are truly pointless to him, as is their comfort. He'd much rather just fuck your brains out then go back to do his own thing without a word being exchanged afterwards, truly you're just a toy for him to use when he can't hold back anymore, or at least that's what he tries to convince himself.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of your body)
He doesn't have a specific favourite, he just prefers whatever is most sensitive since he can use that to torture you. Whatever it is, your nipples, your thighs, even if it's your throat, he'll use it against you. He'll bite you, slap you, do whatever he can to watch you squirm beneath him.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
He avoids cumming inside of you, he's not sure if he can get you pregnant since he's a puppet but he doesn't want to risk it. he doesn't need some sort of pregnancy scandal because that would not only tie him to someone but it would also cause problems within his job. But he'll gladly cum on your face, he can't deny the satisfaction he feels when he see's your fucked out face covered in his cum.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
His dirty little secret is that he actually thinks your moans are like music to his ears, just so perfect that it drives him crazy, ESPEICALLY when you moan his name. It sends him reeling, he always ends up losing control and just pounding into you whenever you moan his name.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Experience is not something he has, he spent most of his life wandering around Teyvat as The Kabukimono which didn't exactly bring about a lot of chances for him to gain any experience. Truthfully you were his first, but he pretends you weren't, he doesn't want you to know something so vulnerable about him. So he'll continue on pretending you're just one of many girls just drooling over him, when in reality you're the only one he's willing to sleep with.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)
Nothing beats missionary to him, it's simple and not physically demanding but also gives him perfect access to you. He can easily reach down and choke you, tease your nipples or drive you crazy by tormenting your clit. Also means he gets to see all your reactions, every tear that may spill from your eyes, if you drool, he'll get to see it all.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Serious, he is dead serious. He won't catch him being goofy or silly, he's above such things.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Scaramouche is a puppet, he doesn't exactly grow body hair, nor does the hair on his head grow. It's all artificial, but if you expressed an interest in body hair then maybe he'd ask dottore about hair implants...
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Intimacy is not something he is willing to give, for now at least, sex is just sex. A way to release his frustrations and feel good after stressful days of working for the Fatui.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
He doesn't really masturbate, why would he when he can always just drag you over? You're his well behaved slut, and he plans on taking advantage of that.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
One thing about Scaramouche is that he always wants to be above, above everyone, he wants to be a god afterall, and that doesn't change during sex. He will lose it whenever you worship him in any way, when you kneel before him and suck his cock like your life depends on it. He's your god, and you better act like it or else he'll find a way to punish you for sinning against him.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
His office, he likes railing you in his office. He doesn't really like the Fatui and see's it as some big "fuck you" to them, to be fucking your brains out during his work hours, on the desk or the chair they paid for. It's too fun for him.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
When you try act all defiant against him, act like you're not interested in having sex with him anymore. It just drives him to break you down, and he always does. He'll pin you down against the bed and pound you till you're a sobbing mess, begging for his forgiveness and confessing how much you enjoy having sex with him how good it feels when he fills you up.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Do not ever mutter an "I love you" to him during sex, unless you want him to stop mid session that is. He can't handle that level of intimacy yet, he's not sure he even fully understands love.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Giving and receiving, he doesn't care, either way works. When you suck him off he gets to watch you choke and drool all over his cock, gets to see you all messy and desperate. On the other hand he gets to drives you over the edge when he eats you out, he gets to lick and suck at your cunt till you're a sobbing mess. He loves the way you whine and cry when you're getting overstimulated.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast and rough all the time, he has no time for sensuality and slowness, he doesn't care for it if it's in an intimate way. He will go slow though if it means torturing you and making you beg, that's an opportunity he cannot skip.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He likes his quickies, but also enjoys spending hours driving you wild, it just depends on his schedule. If he has a busy day then he'll pull you into an alleyway and have his way, or maybe he'll make you suck his cock from under his desk while he's working. If he isn't busy then he'll take his time with it, he likes watching you get desperate when he's taking a long time,
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Scaramouche does not fuck with risky business very much, he refuses to put his reputation at risk after he worked so hard for it. The riskiest he'll get is fucking you in his office, knowing someone might hear as they walk past, but he'll always lock the door. Hearing is all they'll get.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
As a puppet he has an absolute ton of stamina and you really shouldn't test that, he'll easily push you past your limits if you push his buttons too much. He wouldn't mind fucking you till you pass out, and he easily could.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He didn't own toys originally, but he ended up buying a few after coming upon you. A few vibrators he'll use on you while he fucks you, maybe a dildo he'll use to fuck your ass. He'll never let you use anything on him though, even if he knows it'll make him feel good. He won't let you have any control over him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
If you look in the dictionary his name would written underneath unfair because he will tease you all he can, he loves how you react when he teases you. When he calls you a slut and you whine, or when he slows down and watches you get frustrated.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He's not very loud, but he's not silent. He'll groan and moan quietly, but he'll do his best to keep it quiet since he doesn't want to embarrass himself.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Scaramouche would, without a doubt, using his electro abilities during sex. Pushing his fingers your clit and sending small zaps of electro against it just to see you gasp and whine at the sensation, maybe he'll zap your nipples too just to see you jump slightly.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Blessed by the gods (aka given by dottore) about 7 inches long and good girth. He's hairless by default as mentioned earlier, but will talk to The Doctor about it if you like hair.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is a high, it's a rare time in his life where he gets to feel pleasure so he finds himself constantly wanting to go back and have his way with you whenever he can. It's too good to not do.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn't sleep afterwards, he won't be caught asleep by anyone since it's such a vulnerable position. He'll leave you to sleep in his bed and go do whatever he has to do.
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beskarandblasters · 1 month
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A Twisted Fantasy
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader
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Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist
Summary: You masturbate while thinking about your encounter with the Ghoul.
Word count: 750
Warnings: reader refers to him as the Ghoul, reader is able-bodied, Cooper might be a little OOC but fuck it we ball, masturbation, allusions to smut, pet names (sweetheart), light canon typical violence, no use of y/n
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Late at night, under the cover of the trees and the night sky, you think about him– the Ghoul. 
You don’t know his name. But you don’t need to. All you know is that ever since you saw him weeks ago, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. It’s an unfortunate chain of events. You had pissed off the wrong crowd in Filly, owing them bottle caps you most definitely didn’t have.
And for that, a bounty was placed on your head. That’s when the Ghoul came into your life. But only for a fleeting moment.
You were walking the streets after dark, already a bad idea. A hand enclosed around your wrist as you were dragged into a dark alley, followed by the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head. 
“It’ll all be over real soon, sweetheart. Be a lot easier if you didn’t resist either.”
“Please no-” you started to beg. 
“I’ll have you know.. they didn’t care if you were brought in dead or alive.”
“Sir, please. I don’t have any bottle caps. I can’t-”
He spun you around you were facing him. His appearance didn’t scare you. You had encountered Ghouls before. But he was different. 
He had a voice so sultry it made you melt, knees buckling underneath you. The brim of his hat hung low, covering his eyes. You were backed up against a wall, cool metal chilling your burning skin. A weird mixture of fear for what’s come and arousal coursed through your body. His gun moved to your temple while his other hand pinned your hands above your head. Fuck. 
Tears welled up on your lash line, threatening to spill over. It wasn’t long before they finally rolled down your cheeks in an unstoppable flow. 
“Please, sir. I don’t have anything.”
“Nothin’?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting yours as he cocked his head to the side. 
You shook your head no, crying harder at the feeling of his gun against your head. 
He looked conflicted, eyes betraying the words he was saying. 
“Look, sweetheart… A job’s a job.”
You cried and stuck out your lip, hoping and praying for a shred of mercy. You’re a crying, pathetic mess and maybe he’ll sense that. He sighed and cursed under his breath, looking away from you and at the ground instead. 
“I suppose I could say you ran off… That I need to track you down again…”
“Really?” you asked, your face lighting up. 
“Maybe but only if you do exactly as I say.”
“Anything,” you nodded as he lowered his gun. 
“Run as far as you can away from here,” he said, letting go of your hands. 
You waited for further instructions but he shouted, “I said run!” shooing you off. “Unless you want me to change my mind.”
“No, sir!” you squeaked, running as fast as you could out of Filly. 
You were thankful he spared your life but for some reason, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You replayed every time he called you sweetheart in your mind. It didn’t help that he looked just like a fucking cowboy, accent and all. 
And now here you are, fingers deep in your cunt, thinking about the Ghoul. You wish he were here right now, watching you please yourself. Or better yet… you wish he were making you feel good instead. 
You imagine he’d talk you through it, praising you for being such a good girl, telling you how good you take his fingers or his cock. You think about his pleasure and how long it’s probably been since he felt any. You’d take care of that for him, making him curse under his breath like he did that one night in the alley. You’d do anything he wanted if it meant he’d call you sweetheart again. 
God, how twisted is this? You’re fantasizing about a mutant who had the power to take your life right there and then. But that adds to the allure, to the fantasy. You’d pretend to be his bounty any day of the week, letting him whisper in your ear as he fills you up. 
Before you know it, you cum around your fingers. Waves of pleasure rush through your body as you bite your lip to muffle your moans. The disappointment of the situation settling in now. The Ghoul’s not here and you’re alone. You roll over and sigh, silently hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll cross paths again one day. 
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Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
Part two
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Saturn the father you always wanted and always have. Saturn in da houses, and why your life sucks. Im blunt here so don't complain don't read if you can't handle the reality of saturn. Saturn in the first house - okay you don't like to try when you present yourself, you think people should just instantly respect you because youve been through many trials in life... well people usually dont know how to talk to you because you have a stick up your ass. Saturn in the second house - everyones greedy, but when you are, its not cool. Well it isn't because when you are greedy you act like a goblin. be more mature its okay to be greedy but your acting like its a virtue stfu. Saturn in the third house - everyone thinks your dumb af, and you are only because you lack confidence to drive your points home. you just need to learn how to communicate better, your not dumb but you act like a dumbass. Saturn in the fourth house - sad boy/girl now everyone knows you had a rough childhood but would you grow up already, everyone else has but your still stuck being sad about how life has treated you (or your momma/dadda) grow up your not getting any younger you can't change the past stop wallowing. the past has taught you well, use it to your advantage or let it hold you back. Saturn in the fifth house - pretend players who get played everytime. Always gotta pretend like they are fun but whenever you do try to have fun with them they are annoying. yes you could be fun in the bedroom simply because everyone knows your too sensitive to break someones heart... because your heart is the most broken. Saturn in the sixth house - the real try hards always putting in 100%. suck ups to there boss or whoever is above them. but when there authority disrespects them they go rogue and try even harder just to spit in there boss's face. i respect it because i got cap here Saturn in the seventh house - if your a bad person good luck in this life, because your karma is received ten fold by your partners, they always like to complete your karmic cycle because thats just how it works idk. so better act right or your partner will ruin it before you ruin yourself.
Saturn in the eighth house - will do anything to get to the top. no pain is too painful. well it all is, but the ends justify the means. when they put there foot down the whole room shakes. so when your making a move make sure its the right one because your power plays are on display for everyone and itll make or break you more than the other placements. Saturn in the ninth house - lazy asses, always looking for an easy way out. they know what the right thing to do is, but the likelihood of them doing it is never. its because saturn restricts there luck/ mind and they just have woe is me energy and its annoying make better choices, and if you dont stop crying about it. but if they act right saturn blesses them the fuck up. Saturn in the tenth house - okay these people think they are better than everyone and deserve everything, but they never receive the applause they crave. its never enough even if the whole room is looking at them they suddenly don't want it anymore. there karma everyone can see, and if its too good it feels like a curse, and when its bad and reality comes crashing down they just want to hide but they cant. own your life or it will own you. Saturn in the eleventh - there community will give them there karma, always these people dont have a place where they feel safe. because they never make anyone feel safe around them, then cry when no-one gives them that favour. stfu and treat us better and maybe we will do you better. Saturn in the twelfth - okay apparently this is where saturn is in its joy, and i guess its because god/ spirits judge you. and i guess thats a good thing because if anyone should judge you its him. except the pain here is you have ultimate freedom, you rarely get signs on what to do. will you make the right choice or the wrong once? well they are lucky because they always get there karma quickly so they can always recover fast. but these people struggle to empathise because they don't feel the energy of the room. sooooo just grow up you got the best saturn, and your karma resides is in your empathy. disclaimer - saturn wants you to be the best. and no one is.... so i like to think if you want a sense of direction (where are you going wrong) look at the saturn house and if you are successful congrats your doing saturn right. but be careful he always thinks you can do better, and he loves to humble you. so be-careful out there.
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences here were taken from different media about possessive love, the thrill of the chase, banter, and competition regarding one's affection. Some have foul language so please beware but most are fun, banter, possessive fun. All of these are made for roleplay purposes. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.
I love you. You’re mine. I’ll kill any bastard who tries to take you from me.
I spend a quarter of every day inside you. 
I have never said this to anyone before.
But the idea of you with child is the most insanely arousing thing I’ve ever imagined.
Your belly all swollen, your breasts heavy, the funny little way you would walk … I would worship you. I would take care of your every need. And everyone would know that I’d made you that way, that you belonged to me.
You want to be free. You also want to be mine. You can't be both.
We can't possess one another.
Just because I can't have you right now, doesn't mean I'm okay with him having you.
I will be good to you, Myst. Please, I promise.
You are mine. And I protect what’s mine.
Of course I won't go alone. I shall take my maid.
No.You will take me.
The purpose of a knight is to protect. Why won’t you let him do his job to me?
I want you all to myself.
I can’t explain to you the joy I feel knowing it’s all mine. That you are all mine, that your body is all mine.
There is something in me that wakes up when I want something, a possession.
God knows he deserved you more than I do. 
Listen well, for you belong to me.
Good grief, you’re such an adorably greedy person.
And when you fall in love with her  just keep in mind that she’s mine. 
 She’s more than you could handle, anyway.
That almost sounds like a challenge.
I don’t need your permission to do anything.
Your hands will touch me and no one else, Meadow. That is final.
You chase off every man that’s ever been interested, and you do it without even trying.
You reject every suitor and yet, you keep entertaining me. I believe you want me too, and you are dying to be touched.
I don't own you, you just belong to me.
You’re my gold, your cunt is my liquid gold. 
I will have your mouth, you will give it to me. Then I will have your spirit, Circe. I will own it. Always.
By the gods you have never been more beautiful than you are right now, spread before me, wrapped in my wool.
Once I take you, you are mine. My woman. No other man can have you.
I do not belong to you, or to anyone else. I will talk to whomever I want, whenever I want.
Not if it’s some ass who thinks he can put his hands on you.
You didn’t have a problem with me acting like a caveman last night.
When it comes to you… I don’t like to share.
Most men prefer to do the eating.
Do you know what passion is?
Most people think it only means desire. Arousal. Wild abandon. But that’s not all. The word derives from the Latin. It means suffering. Submission. Pain and pleasure, Nikki. Passion.
You’re wearing my colors, love.
I’m going to put you on your knees, Ruby. You’re going to hate how much you love it.
He is my king, he is my warrior, he is my husband and I am proud to say above all… he is mine.
You have rare beauty the like I have never seen but you will be more beautiful heavy with my seed.
You are my golden queen. You are my tigress. You are my Circe. 
Never will I allow your gold to be taken from me. Never. Understand this, Circe, and never forget.
Maybe I fell in love with a version of him that didn't exist.
 I would have you right here if you would let me. Fear you? I exalt you. 
You could burn me a thousand times, and I would still want you for my own.
Everything has a price. The price, however, isn't always money.
You’re my scariest hell, You’re my perfect paradise.
Well, I admit my crib is pretty sweet. But a gold cage is still a cage, Harry.
I intend to the last. 
If I win, then you shall be mine. Tonight.
You are so sure of yourself.
The game is simple. The women run, the men chase. If you catch the one with your color. . .well, that’s up to you.
But women have been running all their lives, most men don’t catch that easily.
We are in a maze, lost, and your hand is up my skirt.
Aye, but I don’t hear any complaints. The maze will hide our secret.
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