#yeah no they’d never let her live it down

[diorhoon]

the very first night.

summary. the search for a new place to live takes a turn for the worse when the only person willing to split rent with you is your ex-boyfriend.

pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader genres. romance, angst, smut; exes to lovers!au, roommates!au word count. 19.7k

warnings. explicit sexual content (oral sex, protected sex), alcohol consumption, profanity a/n. this was originally written for a different group but i decided to repost it here! title is from the very first night by taylor swift. thanks for reading! :)

ONE

You think that all the decisions you’ve made in your life so far have all boiled down to this one moment.

Karmic retribution, if you will.

Despite the six months for which you and your ex-boyfriend have been separated, Lee Heeseung looks the same. The same floppy hair that never quite sits flat on his head—though he’s let it grow a tiny bit, and now it curls behind his ears—and the same tight-fitting black shirt you swear you tried stealing from him once. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and warm brown eyes that peer back at you. Pink lips which beckon you with a small, yet welcoming smile.

“Hey.” The word drags from his mouth, and he extends the last syllable for a second longer than necessary. “You’re here early.”

Shit. Even his voice sounds the same.

You heft your suitcase and place it by your feet just so you can avoid eye contact. Under different circumstances, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have let you carry your suitcase all the way up the stairs to the third floor—the elevator has been out of commission since before you even met him, and that doesn’t appear to change anytime soon. He probably would have lugged the whole thing upstairs, despite your protests and claims that you’re strong enough to do it on your own. But now, you can only sense his gaze on your figure as you place it securely on the floor.

When you straighten up, he’s still looking at you. He has an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes are clouded, almost as if he’s built some kind of impenetrable fortress against you. You have your walls up, too—in the slight clench of your jaw and defiant raise of your chin—and it’s something someone else wouldn’t be able to notice, but you’re sure Lee Heeseung has.

“Yeah. Um.” You attempt to smile, pray it doesn’t visibly appear as a grimace, and gesture behind you with your thumb. “The packers and movers came by pretty early, so everything ended up moving faster.”

“I see.” He purses his lips, evidently running out of things to say. (Good for you, really, because there’s nothing for you to say either.)

You take the chance to glance behind him—a feat in itself, considering how broad his shoulders are—and observe the interiors of what is going to be your home for the next year. Beige walls, the ratty sofa he bought off a garage sale, the television set he originally used to play video games on but ended up using it to watch shows instead—and a potted succulent placed in the corner. That wasn’t there before.

Before you allow your lips to tug up amusedly, Heeseung speaks again. “Is that all? When’s the rest of your stuff coming in?”

“The movers said they’d have everything ready within two days. It might take me longer to get everything sorted out, though,” you reply, aiming your gaze downwards at your suitcase.

It’s an old thing, with fraying fabric and rusty wheels, but it currently contains a fraction of your belongings: Clothes, toiletry, a small pouch where you keep items that have a special significance to you. Only the bare essentials, really. Heeseung had assured you that the room was furnished, with a bed, closet and desk. His old roommate, Beomgyu, had moved out but left the furniture behind because he had no reason to take them with him—not when he moved in with his girlfriend in her own apartment. All that’s left for the movers to bring over is your bookshelf, your book collection, the rest of your clothes, the Ikea drawer you and your best friend, Kim Minjeong, built together, and other smaller items like your desk lamp and office chair.

“That’s okay,” Heeseung says. “Take as long as you need.”

You nod, mumbling a “thank you”, then bend down to pick up your suitcase.

Heeseung moves aside, granting you enough space to roll it across the floor and head over to the side that leads to the Beomgyu’s old room. Right opposite you is the doorway that leads to Heeseung’s bedroom, and further to the side is the corridor that opens into the kitchen, the small space where he keeps a dining table, and the bathroom.

In a way, you’re glad your room is situated further away from those places. Ghosts of memories linger there, ones that you can’t bear to revisit.

No, it’s better this way; you’re away from everything that you used to consider a second home. Maybe if you close the door behind you, you can pretend like you’re in some kind of void where the only things that exist are you and the bed.

“Wait, Y/N.”

You pause, feeling… something. The way he says your name, so casually, as if it’s second nature to him (it used to be) and nothing has changed at all, has you on edge—not in the good way, but not in the bad way either. 

You turn around. “Yeah?”

“Um.” Your ex-boyfriend hesitates for a second. “I’m… going out for dinner with Beomgyu and some others, is that okay? It might be late by the time I come back.”

“Okay.” Then, feeling the need to clarify something, you say, “You—you don’t have to tell me that. We don’t… owe each other an explanation for where the other is.”

Heeseung stays quiet, and you look away, teeth worrying your bottom lip. You wonder if he’s going to say anything—or even show any kind of reaction at all. 

“Right. We don’t.” His voice is toned down with a kind of uneasiness that you don’t blame him for. Heck, even you feel a twinge of hurt rise up your throat at your own words. “I’ll… let you get some rest.” He nods once, places his hands in his pockets, and walks back to his room.

Your grip on the suitcase handle tightens. Once you enter your room, you let out a pained sigh. You shut the door and turn your back to the wooden blockade that separates you from the rest of the apartment.

This is not going the way you expected—but then again, what had you expected? That everything between you and Heeseung would just vanish and you could talk to him normally without feeling that tiny pinprick of bitterness stab your chest every time you address him? You and Heeseung have a history, filled with good times and bad times, and six months spent away from each other will do nothing to erase that. 

You think of what your old roommate, Minjeong, would’ve said. He’s just a boy, Y/N. Make him clean the toilet all the time so he’ll automatically get sick of you.

You smile to yourself, unlocking your phone. Minjeong is probably too busy settling down in her new home in the city she moved to, so she can’t pick up your call. You decide to send her a text message instead.

You switch to the food app, order your favourite dishes from the Indian place a couple of streets away, and toss your phone onto the bed. Kneeling, you unzip your suitcase and unpack the few items you have with you. As you move around, you can already imagine how to decorate the place, how to make it feel more like a home and less like you’re an intruder. The closet is just enough for all the clothes you own—the ones you’ve packed and the ones stored in cardboard boxes yet to arrive. The desk placed opposite to the bed is perfect for when you have to work on your laptop late at night; if you place your lamp on it, you might even forget that you’re not in your old apartment. The bed already has a mattress with clean linen on the bedspread. You place your old Looney Tunes duvet on it.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rings. You pause your unpacking to get the door and thank the delivery guy for the food. Heeseung has already left, judging by the lack of noise in the rest of the apartment. You just hope he doesn’t come back home drunk and shit-faced—that would definitely ruin the rest of your night, and the much-needed sleep you require. 

You decide not to use the kitchen table, instead opting to take the food containers into your room, where you can eat and watch a show at the same time. It’s lonely, but at least you can have your meal somewhere comfortable.

Your phone rings with notifications. You pick it up, carefully balancing the bowl of curry on your knee. 

(19:47) Minjeong: hows the apartment??? did u make Heeseung clean the toilet yet?

(19:47) Heeseung: hey, i’m at a thai place. do you want anything to eat at home? i could get something packaged.

You smile at the first text, tense up at the second one, and place your phone down next to you. Not replying to either of their messages might be a bad idea, but right now, all you want is to have your spicy curry and naan in peace—your best friend and ex-boyfriend be damned.

TWO

It’s only after you move in with Heeseung that your separation from Minjeong truly sinks in. Now, there’s no one you can wake up at two in the morning because your period started and you ran out of pads, or gossip about that one campus couple who broke up in public at your favourite boba place.

Not to mention the fact that living with your ex-boyfriend is mildly awkward at best and stupidly melancholic at worst.

It’s been a week, but you and Heeseung seem to have figured out a way to work in tandem. It appears as though neither of you want to see the other—just yet, at least. He goes for a morning jog at six; your alarm rings at six. He comes back reeking of sweat at seven in the morning; you’re getting ready to leave for work by then. You do the dishes on the days he vacuums the apartment and vice versa. It leaves no room for conversation, other than the occasional greetings and small talk when you happen to cross paths.

In fact, ever since you purposefully ignored Heeseung’s text asking if you wanted anything from the Thai restaurant, he’s made a conscious effort at avoiding you.

You nearly jump out of your seat when someone taps your shoulder. “Hey.”

You turn around and meet your co-worker, Jung Sungchan’s eyes. He smiles at you, eyes curving into little crescents.

“Hi,” you say, smiling back automatically.

If there’s one person you can count on to bring a smile to your lips, even if it’s eight o’clock in the morning—at work, no less—it’s Jung Sungchan. His cheerful nature and lively personality is infectious. His happiness radiates outwards in waves that everyone gets swept up on. You might even consider yourself envious of how easily he sways everyone, with that exuberant smile and those good-natured compliments he doles out to everyone like they cost him nothing. (Which they don’t, you suppose.)

“Something on your mind?”

Your smile turns into a grimace. “You could tell?”

He gives you a little half-shrug, still smiling. “You had a weird, serious, think-y face. And before you come at me for think-y not being a real word—I’m very aware of that, thank you—it’s the best way I can describe you.”

“You chose think-y—” you bite back a chuckle— “as the best word to describe me? Come on, Sungchan, you can do better than that.”

“I can,” he agrees, “but only when the situation is appropriate.” His face turns grave, and he continues, “But seriously, Y/N. Did you have a rough night?”

His eyes roam over your face, evident concern shown in the curve of his lips and the slight dip of his eyebrows. You control your wince, wondering if the swollen bags underneath your eyes aren’t as concealed by your makeup as you thought. 

Rough week, more like. But you don’t say that to him. “Something like that,” you say.

“You moved out a while back, right? How’s the new place?”

“It’s… good. Close to the supermarket and all that. Everything is within, like, a ten-metre radius, so I don’t have to go very far to get things.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Sungchan says, and you can tell he really means it. “I bet you’re tired, though, with all that packing and unpacking and moving around.”

He bends closer, the front of his loosely tucked shirt just barely touching the back of your chair. This close, you can smell the faint scent of Sungchan’s deodorant and fabric softener. He taps his finger on the arm of your chair. “Do you want to get some coffee with me?”

“Um.” You look back at your laptop and the pile of binders next to it. Sungchan seems to know what you’re thinking, because he huffs and says, “C’mon, I’m sure Seungcheol wouldn’t mind if you took a coffee break.”

“I guess,” you return, flashing him a smile when he rolls your chair backwards to give you space to stand up.

Getting up, both of you weave your way to the third floor, where the only functioning coffee maker is housed. The elevator is too crowded and busy for you to use to get down from your position on the seventh floor, so you settle for using the stairs. Throughout the ten-minute walk (which effectively turns into a fifteen-minute one, thanks to him), Sungchan waves and greets every single fellow office worker you pass by. By name.

You roll your eyes and bite your lip to hold back your laugh when a young, female intern—probably still in college by the looks of it—flushes bright red because Sungchan complimented her barrette.

He catches your eye and grins. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head good-naturedly. “It’s nothing. Carry on with whatever you were doing.”

“What was I doing?”

“Oh, you know,” you say airily, “making everyone fall head over heels for you because you’re just so nice.”

His grin only widens. “You make it sound as though being nice is a bad thing.”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” you protest. “I’m just— Greeting every single person you see? By name? How do you even know everyone in the building?”

“I just check their ID card,” he explains, shrugging slightly. “I read this WikiHow article that said if you speak to people using their name, it creates a good impression and makes you appear more confident than you really are.”

“Really?”

Humming, Sungchan nods, before adding slyly, “I’m not sure what you mean by making everyone fall in love with me, though.”

“Please,” you snort. “You’re way too charming for your own good—and I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“You think so?” 

You can hear the smugness in his tone and you roll your eyes again. “Yes, I think so.”

“Then…” He trails off, gazing at the handrail.

Sungchan’s voice turns softer, more serious. Contemplation bleeds into his features, and when he speaks again, he lacks the bravado he had with all the other people he spoke to on your way down.

“Guess I better work on charming the right people, huh?” 

You blink, but before you can digest Sungchan’s words, he gives you another bright grin before rounding the corner and striding towards the coffee machine. You follow, the need for caffeine in your system overriding your instinct to mull over what your co-worker said. Unfortunately, it seems you and Sungchan aren’t the only ones who want coffee; a long queue runs ahead of you. Your coffee break might end up taking longer than you thought.

“So,” Sungchan casually drawls, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his ID card’s lanyard. “Do you want to talk about your rough night?”

“I…” You pause and consider. 

Should you tell Sungchan? You trust him enough—you’ve known him for as long as you’ve been working in this company—and he’s always been friendly to you, offering you a ride home when both of you work overtime and paying for your food on the occasional visits to a café or a coffee shop. Besides, he’s the closest person you have to a friend, now that Minjeong lives in a different city and you can’t call her up whenever you feel like it. You decide to tread the waters first, only telling him the bare minimum.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you begin, “if you move in with someone you don’t like but have known for years, what would you do?”

“That’s a tough one.” He scratches his chin, pretending to think. “I guess it depends on the kind of past you share, y’know? But either way, I would try to… make peace with them, I guess. Like a ceasefire. Offer them an olive branch. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” He grins knowingly at the last bit and you shove his shoulder.

What Sungchan said makes sense. You and Heeseung are living together; your past relationship shouldn’t come in the way of talking to each other. But it does, so much more than it should. Try as hard as you might, every time you think of Lee Heeseung, the first thing that comes to your mind is all the kisses you’ve shared, the way his arms feel around you, how both of you broke the promises you made to each other—all because you were too proud and he was too stubborn. 

You still are proud. For all you know, Heeseung might still be stubborn. 

What a pair, you think drily.

You and Sungchan shuffle forwards. He stays silent, allowing you to process your thoughts and wonder how, exactly, you’re going to get over Heeseung and talk to him without feeling like your stomach is twisting into a million knots. 

Once you reach the coffee machine, Sungchan hands you a cup. “It’s hot,” he warns, before carefully handing you the styrofoam cup filled to the brim with the bitter brew. You cautiously take a sip, wincing when you almost burn your tongue and make a face at your co-worker when he chimes, “I told you.”

The walk back to your floor doesn’t take as long as the walk down. Before you part ways, Sungchan offers you a small smile and a pat on your shoulder.

“If you’re wondering how to approach your roommate,” he says, lowering his voice, “maybe start off by offering them food. Works like a charm every time.”

Food. Yeah, you can manage that. Dinner with your ex-boyfriend.

Should be a piece of cake.

THREE

Asking Heeseung if he would like to have dinner with you is decidedly not a piece of cake.

When he comes back home from work, Heeseung has only one trajectory: Travel in a straight line from the door to his bedroom, offering you a tight smile if he sees you along the way. His bag is always slung across one shoulder and his shirt is always untucked and his hair is always a wild mess. If his appearance wasn’t achingly familiar, you would probably laugh every time you see his unruly figure.

It takes a week for you to muster up the nerve to look Heeseung in the eye, after your conversation with Sungchan. He’s been pestering you incessantly, almost exactly like Minjeong. When you told her about Sungchan’s suggestion, she had been nothing short of enthusiastic. Your phone has been blowing up constantly with texts from her, egging you on and on and on to make a move first and raise the (hypothetical) white flag. 

“If you keep putting it off, you’re going to be very miserable for the rest of your immediate future,” was her reasoning when you called and spoke to her on the phone three days ago. “But also if you don’t fucking ask him to have a meal with you within the next week, I will fly over and have you both sit in a room, alone, and force you to talk.”

Both the options are pretty much the same. You didn’t have the energy to tell Minjeong that.

It’s on a Monday evening that you catch Heeseung and pop the question. A Monday evening that’s insignificant, really. Almost laughable at how normal the evening is. Heeseung unlocks the door, closes it while toeing his shoes off, and gives you the same tight smile—one where it doesn’t reach his eyes, his jaw is slightly clenched, and his lips thin into almost straight lines. 

“Heeseung.” Your voice comes out breathless, like you’ve been jogging for miles before coming to a stop in front of him. He pauses, wind-ruffled hair framing his face in cloudy wisps.

“Yeah?” 

“I—uh—” you force the words to tumble out of your lips, before you can overthink— “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?”

Heeseung purses his lips, looking at you warily. He’s careful, cautious, when he asks, “Is… there any special reason?”

You swallow. “No,” you say honestly, not allowing your eyes to tear away from his. “There isn’t. But I tried making lasagne today, and I would like to share it with someone.”

For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, only lets his bag fall into the crook of his arm. “Okay,” he says finally. “Let me just change and wash up.”

You nod, making your way to the kitchen to bring out the casserole. You’re not usually one for cooking—you prefer ordering takeout because it’s easier and they make the food better than you, anyway—but simply ordering food didn’t sit right with you. Lasagne is a dish you’ve made a few times before, and you would rather make something you’re familiar with instead of trying to whip up something new.

When you go back into the kitchen, you find Heeseung already there, bent over an open cupboard’s door as he fishes out some plates and cutlery. He’s wearing a loose white shirt and grey sweatpants, fringe falling freely over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. 

“Are our regular plates okay or do we need the china ones?” he asks, still bent over.

“Why do we need china plates? Wait, why do you even have china plates with you in the first place?”

He looks over at you and shrugs. “Dunno. Beomgyu had a china cutlery phase, I think.”

That does sound like a phase Xu Beomgyu would have.

“The regular ones are fine.” You don’t want to risk breaking Beomgyu’s precious cutlery.

While Heeseung wipes the plates with a dishcloth, you grab two mugs and pour orange juice from the fridge into them. You take one in each hand and follow Heeseung to the kitchen table, placing both of them on either side.

“Orange juice?” Heeseung’s eyebrows are raised.

“Yeah. So?” you challenge him, raising your eyebrows as well.

But he doesn’t say anything against your choice of beverage, only shrugs and mumbles, “We should really stock up on alcohol.”

Your lips twitch. You don’t allow yourself to smile.

Instead, you pull your chair back and sit down, steepling your fingers in front of you. Heeseung piles some food onto his plate. For some reason, you feel weirdly nervous. What if it’s not as good as you think? What if he doesn’t like it?

You shake those thoughts away. This is Lee Heeseung. Even if the food was bad, he wouldn’t tell you; he would only grin, compliment your culinary skills, and continue to eat despite everything.

“Is it… good?” you ask tentatively, after he takes a forkful into his mouth and chews deliberately.

He waits until he’s swallowed before answering. “It’s great. Really good,” he affirms, and you can hear in his voice that he means it.

Well, almost.

It’s the slight dip and intonation of his tone, but it’s one you’re familiar with. You narrow your eyes at him. Heeseung continues eating, oblivious to your glare. In fact, he shovels more lasagne onto his dish and eats with more gusto, pausing every now and then to gulp down some orange juice.

“Really?” you say casually. “I’m glad. Maybe I should try some too.”

Heeseung’s reaction is so instantaneous, it’s almost comical. His eyes widen by a fraction, and he immediately reaches for the casserole. “You should definitely try some,” he says. “But it’s so good, I wanna have some more.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching Heeseung stuff more food into his mouth before deciding to put him out of his misery.

“Heeseung. Tell me the truth. How’s the food?”

He pauses, swallowing the food in his mouth and answering with a subdued, sheepish smile:

“It’s too salty.”

FOUR

“Why are you leaving so early?” Minjeong’s voice crackles through your phone placed on your bed.

“Sungchan said he wanted to try out the croissants at the new bakery that opened nearby,” you reply, fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. “He also said he wanted to buy a baguette so that he could whack his roommate with it. Something about going all the way to Paris to buy it but his roommate used it to hammer a nail into the wall and broke it.”

A pause, and then, “Is his roommate okay in the head?”

“Good question.” You grin at your reflection in the mirror, pat down the hair at the back of your neck, and grab your phone. “I’m heading out now. I’ll text you later.”

“’kay,” your best friend says. “Tell Heeseung I said hi.”

“I will,” you say, but you already know you’re not going to greet him on behalf of her.

Things between you and Heeseung are… still pretty much the same, honestly. After that dinner fiasco, you’ve been too embarrassed to properly address him, and he’s not made much of an effort on his part. Or maybe you’ve been consciously avoiding him so much that he doesn’t get a chance to put his foot forward. Either way, your cheeks still burn up whenever you think of that night’s dinner, so for now, hiding in your room is quite possibly the only way you can prevent yourself from catching fire completely.

Stupid logic. You’re a grown adult, with the ability to make good judgements and make decisions. Unfortunately, your decisions are mostly borderline idiotic.

Shouldering your bag, you leave your room and head to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. There’s a Post-It note stuck on the refrigerator. Peeling it off the fridge’s door, you read it curiously.

Got some cookies from Beomgyu’s friend’s bakery. I’ve kept them in the pantry. Enjoy! :) 

Heeseung’s familiar scrawl is branded into your head, and seeing the yellow square of paper makes nostalgia bubble inside your chest like a bath bomb dropped into a bathtub filled with water. You pocket the note, and smile so widely, your cheeks hurt.

Maybe he’s put his foot forward, after all.

Sungchan is already waiting for you outside your apartment building by the time you go out. He grins at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners and teeth flashing happily. 

“Hi,” you greet him. “Did you wait long?”

“No.” Your co-worker shakes his head, still smiling. “I just got here, actually.”

“I’m glad.” You return his smile. “Should we head out?”

Sungchan nods. “Of course,” he says, and you fall into step with him. 

He has a never-ending list of topics to talk to you about—and for the most part, you’re glad that he’s so outgoing. In twenty minutes, you’ve learnt almost everything there is to know about his roommate, Jeonghan, his older sister, his fear of ladybugs (you snort out loud at that particular anecdote), and his favourite anime (Haikyu!! and One Piece). In return, you tell him about that time you and Minjeong accidentally walked into the wrong restroom at a bar, and how you got dumped by your high school crush because he thought you were better than him at playing basketball.

It’s comfortable. Talking to Sungchan always is. 

But you still don’t talk about Heeseung. You try hard to stop thinking of him, but he’s always there at the back of your mind, an unopened gift that you don’t unwrap. 

Finally, you and Sungchan round a corner and find yourselves standing in front of the just-opened bakery. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the open door. An array of different types of breads and other desserts is placed carefully on a display at the counter, and the owner greets you with a welcoming smile.

“What do you want to have?” Sungchan asks, holding your elbow and leading you in.

You eye the basket of croissants. The buttery confection looks delicious, but so does the tray of muffins placed next to it. And the bagels placed beside the muffins. “I can’t decide.”

“How about one of everything?”

You glance at him to see if he’s joking, but Sungchan looks completely serious. “You’re kidding, right?” you say, grabbing his arm. “There’s no way I’m going to let you buy one of everything in this store!”

“I would,” Sungchan admits, a flush creeping up his neck, “if you asked me to.”

You groan. “Sungchan. Please don’t.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m just saying, if you wanted me to—”

“One croissant, please,” you interrupt, addressing the owner. “To go. And he will have…”

“Make that two croissants,” Sungchan finishes. “I’ll have whatever the lady’s having.”

“How gentlemanly of you.”

“I know.”

Sungchan pays for his croissant, and you pay for yours. The owner wraps them up and hands them to you, asking you to visit again. Once you exit, you unwrap yours and take a small bite. The bread is soft and melts in your mouth, leaving a sweet aftertaste. You take another bite, and it’s only then that you notice Sungchan looking at you, a corner of his lips turned upwards in a crooked smile and one hand in his pocket.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious. “Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No,” he replies. “I just… I would really love to do this again, Y/N.”

Oh.

Sungchan looks at you so hopefully. Like he’s been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. Like he needs to get something off his chest. Like he never wants this moment to end.

“...I’d like that, too,” you say.

Somehow, the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, one that even another mouthful of the sweet snack can’t erase.

FIVE

It’s getting late, and yet Lee Heeseung is hellbent on getting you to keep him company. The worst part is that it’s working—though you would never admit that to him.

Being friends with your ex isn’t that uncommon. You and Heeseung can be friends. But how long are you willing to put up with this ruse before it all blows up in your faces? Friendship between two people who used to date isn’t that much of a big deal—but that’s just it, isn’t it? You and Heeseung weren’t just two people who used to date.

How did you even let him talk you into spending time with him? Or maybe that’s all on you; you’ve never been able to say no to him. One minute you’re looking at his face and remembering the lasagne gone wrong, the next he’s asking if you want to watch a movie with him. Except neither of you have updated your Netflix subscription, so this was a bad idea all along.

Maybe talking to Heeseung is a bad idea. 

Maybe you should go back to your old ways, locking yourself up in your room and only acknowledging his presence when you happen to cross paths. 

But the socialite in you nags, what if he thinks you’re some kind of hermit who only comes out to eat and drink? Besides, he’s here now, right next to you on the sofa—keeping a respectable distance between your bodies—as he watches a rerun of America’s Next Top Model because it was the least shitty thing playing on all the channels you scrounged through fifteen minutes ago. 

Normally, you would be elated at the idea of poking fun at random reality shows, expressing your exasperation at the poorly-written scripted drama and the even worse acting. But even if the showoff between two aspiring models both named Jessica and sporting the same colour of fake tan and bleached blonde hair was somewhat interesting, you find your gaze keeps wandering to your ex-boyfriend.

You trace the contours of his face with your eyes—the cheekbones that jut out only slightly, the furrow created on his forehead as his eyebrows kiss, the way his honey-brown eyes stare at the screen in front of him with a focused intensity. Even the way his lips curve ever-so slightly upwards, despite him pressing them together, has you recalling just how soft they felt against your own. 

His warm, soft skin. The prominent collarbone that you used to press small kisses to whenever you wanted to get his attention. The moles scattered all over his body, creating a canvas for you to paint on by tracing them with your fingers. The flex of his fingers as he bunches them into a loose fist.

Everything about him is so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.

Even this semblance of friendship that has bridged the drawn-out distance between you both feels strange—as though somewhere in the back of your subconscious, you recognise that this camaraderie is either a really good thing or could go extremely wrong. You’re in the middle of that bridge, trying your best not to lean too much to the right or to the left, but even a slight misstep could lead to everything going downhill.

“Are you rooting for Jessice H. or Jessica C.?”

“Huh?” You blink, escaping your haze of thoughts. “I’m sorry—which one is which?”

Heeseung glances at you with a deadpan expression. “We’ve been watching them trying to one up each other for the past ten minutes.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. “Both of them look the same to me.”

“Fair enough,” he acquiesces, before returning his focus to the show. “It’s the fake tan, isn’t it? Although the hair is similar too… No wonder they’ve been arguing about who put on their mascara better—it looks identical.” 

You play along. “Or maybe it’s the supposed Gucci belts. I had no idea Gucci made handbags with fake crocodile skin.”

“The more you know…”

You laugh at that, and Heeseung looks at you—really looks, the same way he used to when you made a bad joke and giggled at it yourself. He looks at you with adoration written all over his face, in the upward twist of his lips and the crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

You clamp your mouth shut immediately, feeling a sense of nostalgia, longing and wistfulness seep into your skin, through your flesh and settle deep into your bones. 

Too much. It’s too much, and it’s way too early, and you don’t want to dwell on anything at the moment. So you do what you do best: You hide.

You tear your gaze off him and rub your palms on your old jeans. You hear Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, but you force yourself not to look, not to think about him. 

“Hey, uh—I was supposed to call Minjeong right now,” you lie, and even you think it sounds lame coming out of your mouth, so there’s no way Heeseung can’t see through it.

“Y/N,” is all he says. 

You hate the way your chest clenches—just because he said your name—but what can you do? Escape the situation and never bring up the obvious elephant in the room?

Yeah. That’s exactly what you do. Making decisions isn’t your forte, but you’ll deal with the consequences of your actions later. Much, much later, if you can avoid it for as long as you’re living here.

You get up and make a beeline for your room, and Lee Heeseung doesn’t say anything to make you stop.

SIX

Whenever you faltered, Minjeong was your voice of reason. She would help you back to your feet, give you a solid nudge on your shoulder and list out the pros and cons of everything, allowing you to formulate your own opinion and come to a decision.

She isn’t being very helpful right now.

“Think about it,” she reasons. “Before, he was your ex. Now, he’s the guy you live with. You have to talk to him, no matter what.”

She’s right. She knows you know she’s right. You still refuse to acknowledge it, because pride comes before a fall, but you haven’t fallen yet. It’s more like you’re dangling off the precipice.

“How’s Yeonjun?” you say instead, referring to the guy she’s been crushing on ever since she moved to the new city.

Minjeong lets out an unimpressed sigh, the grainy image of her face on your phone screen contorting slightly. “Don’t think you’re being super smart by changing the topic, Y/N. And he’s fine. We went out for boba the other day.”

“Yeah?” You play with the fraying edge of the duvet thrown over your body. “That’s nice.”

Minjeong hums, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “And then he asked if we could hook up.”

You guffaw. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She nods vigorously, affirming her statement. “I said no, obviously.”

“Why? Afraid he’s too much to handle?”

“Please,” your best friend snorts. “Have you seen him? I think I’m too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even pay for the boba without tearing his pocket because he was too enthusiastic in getting his wallet out.”

You smile thinly. Minjeong might be poking fun at the man, but you can tell from the twinkle in her eyes and the way her voice is filled with infectious joy that she’s enamoured by him. You wish you could meet him in person. Instead, you have to settle for checking out his Instagram profile.

“Anyway,” she continues, stifling a yawn, “it’s late and I have to head out tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” you say. “Good night. Don’t dream of Yeonjun.”

She flips her middle finger at you and you roll your eyes, pressing the end button. Just when you’re about to fluff your pillow so you can lie down, you hear a knock on your door.

“Y/N?” Heeseung sounds remarkably active, considering the fact that it’s currently fifteen minutes past midnight. “Are you awake?”

Curiosity compels you to answer honestly, “Yeah. Is everything okay?” 

You tread over to the door, swinging it open. Heeseung is in his sweatpants—a pair you know he only wears for bed—and a loose graphic T-shirt. You’re wearing pretty much the same attire, except your shirt is an old one, worn-out from your high school days, and it doesn't fit you that well anymore. You tug the hem over your hips consciously.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I was just…” He pauses, raising a hand and ruffling his hair. “Do you wanna get some ice cream?”

Of all possible things you expected Heeseung to ask you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. You blink, bemused. 

“Or—or we don’t have to,” he backtracks, when you don’t say anything immediately. “I was just craving something sweet, that’s all—”

“Okay,” you say, surprising yourself with your answer. Heeseung is trying to extend the olive branch you placed in between you both, and you have to appreciate that. Regardless of your personal feelings. Besides, Minjeong was right—he’s the guy you live with, and you need to be able to spend time with him. As friends. Nothing more.

“Okay.” He exhales, relieved. “It’s right across the street.”

“I think I know the one you’re talking about.”

The ice cream parlour is a ten-minute walk from your apartment, but walking with Heeseung makes time fly. He says something about mint chocolate being an underrated flavour, and you insinuate that it deserves to be, and just like that, conversation flows between you both as though your past is some kind of a fever dream.

Where Sungchan is a bright ray of sunshine lighting up your way on a cloudy day, Heeseung is moonlight, skittering over your figure and providing solace in the dark. Sungchan is infectious laughter and gleeful smiles; Heeseung is whispered jokes and shared silence.

Perhaps it’s those very qualities that made you fall so hard for the man next to you. You know for sure it’s those very qualities that still have you in his grip, even though he doesn’t know it. Maybe that’s why talking to him is awkward—because how do you move on from someone who captured your heart and kept it for safe-keeping but know that there’s one big, gaping hole in your chest where his heart is supposed to be? Even now, a small part of you belongs to Heeseung, like a little token which he’s kept locked up and hidden the key.

Six months is a long time, but neither you nor Heeseung seems to be able to bring up what happened. Maybe it’s for the best, you think. You would rather have a small bit of this domesticity that feels familiar than have everything blow up in your face because of the harsh words you exchanged.

You ignore the tightening in your chest and focus on the warmth pooling in your stomach when Heeseung grins and offers you a chance to redeem yourself when it comes to good ice cream flavours. You say mint chocolate is tolerable, but only because Heeseung likes it.

SEVEN

Sungchan drops by your cubicle almost every day now. He offers to drop you back home, too.

Each time, you smile but decline politely. You still feel guilty about saying that you would like to spend more time with him as well—but in your defence, you didn’t really lie; you do want to spend more time with him, but only as a friend. Sungchan didn’t specify how exactly he wants to go out with you.

It’s getting harder to say no, however. Sungchan is everything if not persistent, and his determination to take you out has you crumbling under his forlorn gaze and pleading words.

He doesn’t make your heart beat faster, or make butterflies erupt inside your belly. Being with Sungchan doesn’t come with bright fireworks or flashy songs. It’s finding the extraordinary in the mundane, and laughing yourselves silly over jokes that aren’t even that funny.

So. It’s not Heeseung, but Sungchan is nice and friendly and stable, and you think you can fall for him. You and Heeseung aren’t going to cross the threshold of friends ever again, anyway. There’s nothing stopping you from going out with Sungchan.

“Okay,” you say when he asks you again, a half-resigned look on his face when he assumes you’ll just say no again. 

The way his expression morphs to elation is worth it, you think. He surges forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into your ear, and the joy he feels is infectious—as most good things with Sungchan are—so it’s no surprise that your cheeks are already hurting from smiling too hard.

When you update Minjeong about the latest turn of events, she tuts disapprovingly and says, “Have you told Heeseung?”

“No,” you say, feeling defensive. “I don’t have to tell him, do I?”

Your best friend waits for a beat. “You don’t, I guess.”

Heeseung interrupts your call then, and you quickly tell Minjeong you’ll text her later. He stands in the living room, holding up a pair of button down shirts, one in each hand, forehead creased and mouth downturned.

You lean against your doorway, amused. “You called?”

His face clears as he looks at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I have this work event I need to attend tomorrow, but I don’t know what to wear.”

You observe the shirts he’s holding up. One is cream in colour, long-sleeved and ironed neatly. The other is black, with a thin white stripe along the collar and sleeves.

“The black one,” you say immediately. And then feel your cheeks heat up with your quick answer. In your defence, Lee Heeseung has always looked alarmingly handsome in black. Objectively speaking.

“I haven’t worn this one in a long time.” He brings it close to his face, squinting at it. “It probably stinks.”

“Smell it, then,” you say, chuckling at the mortified look on Heeseung’s face. “What? You’re telling me you’ve never worn your underwear inside out because you forgot to do the laundry? This isn’t that different.”

“I have never done anything of the sort.” He sniffs petulantly at you, before his eyes narrow. “Wait. Does that mean you’ve worn your underwear inside out?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Gross. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Heeseung tenses up at your offhand comment, and you look down, wondering why that even slipped out of your mouth in the first place. Of course you screw everything up just when things are going decently well. 

“I do,” he mumbles. “I do know you better than that.” When you look at him, he has a wan smile on his lips. “Which is why I’m going to trust your judgement and wear the black shirt. Even if it’s musty from sitting in the back of my closet for so long.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huff, walking over to him and grabbing the cloth out of his hand. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He only raises a single eyebrow at you.

That’s what prompts you to sniff at it. At his goddamn shirt. Like you’re one of those police dogs they use to find missing people.

It… doesn’t smell unpleasant. A little bit musty, like Heeseung said, but that can be attributed to him not wearing it often. Mostly, it smells of faint fabric softener and deodorant—and underneath it all, a scent that is solely Heeseung’s. (Pine and citrus and lavender, all mixed together, in a way that only Heeseung can pull off.)

“It smells fine,” you say, shoving it into Heeseung’s chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not the one who grabbed it and shoved my face into it,” he says, “so who’s the real dramatic one here?”

“I didn’t shove my face into it!” You swat at his shoulder, but he laughs and dodges, eyes twinkling with playfulness.

“If you say so,” he returns, still chuckling to himself.

“When is this event?” 

“Tomorrow evening,” he answers.

“Both of us won’t be at home then,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “I… have a date tomorrow,” you explain, and regret it almost instantly. Why are you even telling him that? He doesn’t need to know.

“Oh,” is all he says, followed by a quieter, “Have fun.”

EIGHT

Sungchan picks you up at exactly six o’clock, wearing a loose button down shirt and slacks, and his hair styled carefully. He perks up as soon as you wave at him, jogging over to you with a smile.

“Hey,” he greets you. “You look good.”

You return his smile, tugging at the edge of your blouse and smoothing out your skirt. “Thank you. So do you.”

Sungchan’s grin brightens, which you didn’t even think was possible. “Thanks,” he says, and then gently takes hold of your elbow. “So… the plan for today is to take you out for dinner, and then a movie. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… good,” you say, letting him lead the way. It’s basic, yes, but you’re a firm believer in clichés—there’s a reason they become popular, after all.

He doesn’t stop talking, and neither do you. Throughout the entire half an hour dinner in some hole-in-the-wall diner that Sungchan discovered a month ago and serves the best blue lemonade mojitos you’ve ever tasted, and the entire two hour movie that’s way too boring for you to focus on the screen anyway, you and your co-worker keep up an endless stream of banter and silly anecdotes and you find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would.

It’s refreshing, and when you and Sungchan finally make the walk back to your apartment, you find it difficult to let go of his hand. He pulls you to a stop in front of the building, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of your hand. 

His smile is as bright as ever, albeit tinged with slight disappointment. “So. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding. “Thank you for today, Sungchan. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” he returns. “Listen, I—”

He’s interrupted by someone stumbling across the sidewalk—not someone, you realise. It’s two people, tightly coiled around each other in a manner that is entirely indecent for the public eye. But as they trip around one another—still holding each other tightly���your heart sinks deep into the pit of your stomach.

One of them is Heeseung.

The other person is some girl, hair falling loosely across her face, Heeseung’s fingers tangled into her tresses, while his other hand bunches up the material of her dress at her waist. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and you don’t tear your eyes away until Sungchan makes a noise of disgust.

He turns around, blocking your view of them and takes both your hands in his. “I… I’ll call you. Okay?”

You nod numbly. “Okay.”

Sungchan leaves with a bright smile and a lingering kiss on your cheek. You plaster a smile onto your lips until he moves out of your line of sight, after which you begin the arduous trek back to your—Heeseung’s—apartment. Normally, the three floors you climb aren’t much of a strenuous task; tonight, however, every step you take makes you feel like your legs are made of lead. 

You fumble in your purse for your key, the image of Heeseung kissing that girl not leaving your mind. It’s not supposed to hurt, you’re not supposed to be bothered by it. But it stings, like the biting cold on a freezing winter morning, making your fingers stiff and your ears chilly.

You hear footsteps right when you twist the key into the lock.

The last thing you see before you enter the apartment is Heeseung clambering up the staircase, clearly drunk but surprisingly upright. He has a lipstick stain leading from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, his hair is tousled—no doubt from someone running their hands through his silky locks—and his shirt is untucked and wrinkled.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you grab the door handle and step inside, because the last thing you want to confront is the fact that your feelings for Lee Heeseung might not be as forgotten as you believe.

Which is fine, all things considered, except Lee Heeseung doesn’t give a damn.

You let the door slam shut behind you before Heeseung can get in. Technically, it’s his house. Technically, he’s the one who has the right to lock you out.

Technically, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum, and technically, Heeseung is allowed to kiss whomever the fuck he wants. 

You wish Minjeong was here. She would ground you, make you see everything calmly and rationally. But she’s been having boy problems of her own (Choi Yeonjun, who is decidedly not as romantic as Minjeong was led to believe), and the last thing you want is to dump your boy problems on her.

Besides, it’s no big deal. Right?

Heeseung lives here. He should have his own copy of the keys. He’s also drunk. (Drunk and half-laid, your mind helpfully reminds.)

Before you start overthinking about letting the door close behind you, you decide that what you really need is a warm shower. So you let your feet lead you to the bathroom directly, and don’t allow thoughts of ex-boyfriends and overly friendly co-workers to enter your brain.

You don’t hear the sound of keys turning in the lock the entire night, but you shove down the guilt that bubbles up your throat. It’s Heeseung’s fault for not carrying them with him wherever he goes; you’re not his caretaker, anyway. 

Your phone pings with a text message from Sungchan, and you pick it up.

(19:47) Sungchan: I had a great time today. Thanks for coming with me :) 

Despite the fact that you only have a towel wrapped around your body, and the fact that your hair is dripping wet, you feel a tingling warmth creep up your chest. 

NINE

Monday is a horrible day.

You woke up half an hour later than usual, which led to you rushing through your morning routine. Your clothes aren’t ironed, which is fine usually, but the shirt you pick doesn’t tuck in quite right and you don’t have the time to change it. You almost tripped over the curb in your rush to get to work and nearly spilled a cup of coffee—which is far too sweet for your liking, due to the dollop of sugar you added by accident—all over yourself. Your manager, Choi Seungcheol, doesn’t approve of the project portfolio you compiled, and the deadline is fast approaching, which means more late nights for you.

And to top it all off, your car engine won’t fucking start.

You’re really not in the mood for Sungchan and his exuberant enthusiasm, which is something he probably catches onto, considering the fact that he stands silently next to you, waiting for you to finish cursing the piece of metal you call a car. Once you’re done resisting the urge to burn down the automobile, Sungchan places a placating hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, training a concerned gaze over your figure. “I can drop you back home.”

“No, it’s fine,” you mutter sullenly. “I’ll just call a cab or something.”

“Y/N, please. It’s no trouble.” He pauses, and you glance at him, at the sympathetic crease of his forehead and the genuinity reflected in his eyes. It’s touching, and Sungchan flashes you a small smile. “I was gonna head over that way anyway—I wanted to get some stuff from that bakery we went to.”

“I—” You hesitate, and he takes the chance to slide in.

“You call the mechanic. I’ll wait for you in my car, okay?”

He scurries away, leaving you biting your lip and staring at your phone. You should probably call Heeseung; he can help. Knowing him, he would probably want to help, regardless of who was asking him. Instead, you search up the nearest mechanic shop and dial in their number, giving them the details of where you are. They arrive a couple of minutes later, and you watch as they hook your car onto their big tow truck and drive away.

Sungchan waves you over to his car, a sleek Hyundai that's probably a few years old but still looks brand new. He opens the door to the passenger seat with a smile before grabbing the stack of folders you had kept clutched to your chest. You let him take them. You’re far too tired to argue.

Briefly, your mind wanders to Heeseung—what he would do if you had told him. Probably run all the way here, your brain supplies, prompting a wry smile to form on your lips. You press them together when you think of Heeseung with that girl immediately afterwards.

The drive to your house is silent, only the rumble of Sungchan’s car and the soft noise of some interview playing on the radio filling the silence. He pulls to a stop near your apartment, bundles up your work folders in his arms and gestures for you to lead the way to your flat. 

The door swings open before you get the chance to pull out your key. Heeseung stands opposite you, dishevelled—just woken up from a nap, it seems. His mouth parts when he sees Sungchan standing behind you.

“Who’s this?” he asks by way of greeting.

You shift uncomfortably, wanting to say something, but the words stick to your throat like you’ve swallowed chewing gum. Sungchan reaches out from next to you, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s positively beaming.

“Hi, I’m Sungchan,” he says. “I work with Y/N.”

Heeseung shakes his hand, eyes roaming quizzically between you and Sungchan. “Nice to meet you,” he says distractedly. “I’m Heeseung, Y/N’s… roommate. And ex—”

“Come on in, Sungchan.” You glare at Heeseung. He only raises an eyebrow in retaliation. Sungchan coughs slightly, blows out a puff of air, and follows you inside.

“You can just…” You wave your hand around vaguely. Gritting your teeth does nothing to bring you out of your haze. It only exacerbates it.

“Did something happen?” Heeseung moves aside, but you feel his eyes on the back of your neck.

“Y/N’s car broke down,” Sungchan supplies. “It’s at the mechanic’s right now, so I offered to drop her back home.”

“I see.” His next statement is directed at you. “You could’ve called me. I would have come.”

It’s only then that you turn around and face him. He doesn’t move, gaze locked unwaveringly on your hunched-over figure. It’s almost like he’s challenging you to say something.

“I know that,” is all you say, voice low.

Heeseung nods. “Good.”

You avert your attention to Sungchan. He appears lost, gaping at both of you as though he can’t quite catch onto what’s going on. “Let’s go to my room, Sungchan. You can leave my stuff there.”

“Okay.” Sungchan nods, giving Heeseung a hesitant smile. “It was nice meeting you, Heeseung.”

“You too.”

It’s a tiny exchange, but it’s enough to cause a fissure inside your heart. Sungchan is always so nice. He gives out niceness like he’s handing out free candy to toddlers. The only time you’ve ever seen him get remotely angry was when another co-worker of yours forgot a pen drive containing a crucial presentation to an important client—even then, all he did was level a glare at her before calmly asking for a backup drive to be brought.

Heeseung, on the other hand, is like a burning ember. Calm one minute, and angry the next—and it’s the reason you love him, but it’s also the reason you broke things off. You and Heeseung are far too similar, hot-headed and careless to a fault, like two candle flames competing to see who can burn their wick the fastest. You didn’t burn the wick. You ended up burning each other instead. Let it not be said that playing with fire isn’t one of your specialties.

Sungchan lets out a breath that sounds like a huff and a sigh simultaneously as soon as he enters your room. “You can leave the stuff here,” you say, pointing at your desk.

He obliges, carefully placing the stack on the table. “That’s your roommate, huh? Y’know, when you said that you were living with someone you didn’t like, I didn’t think you meant your ex-boyfriend.”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s… difficult. I needed a place to live and he was the only person who offered on short notice. It just happened.”

Sungchan nods understandingly, lips pursed in thought. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agree. “One of the nicest people I know.”

“Yeah?” Your co-worker lifts one corner of his lips in an amused half-smile. “What does that make me?”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. You know Sungchan is expecting it. Hell, you’re expecting the words to just come out. The nicest guy of them all. That’s all you have to say.

“You’re… Jung Sungchan.” 

The words are flat on your tongue. Sungchan’s expression falls—just the tiniest bit, a crack in the foundation—but you feel a terrible weight in your stomach, pulling you down, down, down until your head sinks below the surface of the metaphorical waves and the water erases your existence. 

Sungchan is a nice guy—you know that, and you’ve reiterated it so many times. The only thing stopping you from being in a proper relationship with him is your ex-boyfriend, only separated from you by a wooden door and cement walls. Heeseung doesn’t like you anymore, not in the way he used to, and it’s clearly time for you to stop dwelling on what you had.

You swallow, looking at Sungchan directly. “And…” You take a step closer to him. “I consider myself lucky to have met you.”

Sungchan looks at you, his gaze unsteady, but he takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” His throat bobs when he speaks, and that’s how you know he’s nervous.

“Yeah,” you confirm, letting his fingers slip in between yours. 

He shuffles closer to you, and you can smell his woody cologne intermingled with sweat. You can count the moles on his face, see your reflection in his pupils. 

“Y/N, I really want to kiss—”

There’s a knock on your door, and you and Sungchan jump away from each other like a pair of schoolchildren getting caught doing something you’re not supposed to. Sungchan looks down at his feet; you clear your throat before letting out a hoarse, “Yes?”

“You left your phone outside,” Heeseung calls. “The mechanic just called.”

“Oh, um. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Sungchan, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of all possible times for Heeseung to be a cockblocker, why now? “S-sorry about that.”

“No, it’s—you’re fine,” he stammers out, clearly as out of it as you are. “I should probably leave too, I still need to stop by the bakery.”

“Oh, yeah!” you say. “I forgot. Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s getting dark outside and you need to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you murmur. “Thank you for today, Sungchan. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Cursed your car to oblivion, probably,” he teases.

You flush, heat creeping up the back of your neck and ears. “That—you didn’t have to see that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he returns easily, corners of his lips twitching. 

Against your will, your lips twitch upwards too. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Sungchan opens your door, and you follow him out of your room. He gives Heeseung a grin, says, “See you around,” and lets you close the door behind him. 

Heeseung crosses his arms over his chest. You glance at him. His eyebrows are knotted together, lips pressed into a stoic line. You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Hey,” he begins, voice soft, “is that… your boyfriend?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Does it matter?”

He huffs, shifting from one foot to the other. “Yes—no. No, it doesn’t matter. I was just curious, okay?”

You open your mouth, then close it, at a loss for words. Are you and Sungchan together? Not really. Both of you haven’t done or said anything to define your relationship—if there is one in the romantic sense, at least. Sungchan wanted to kiss you, but Heeseung interrupted before anything could even happen—it’s your irritation at the day being shitty, and Heeseung being an asshole after everything he did that makes you roll your eyes at him and snap at him. “It’s none of your business.”

Heeseung’s face turns stony, a hardness to his features that you’ve only seen a few times before—it was directed at you the last time, too. “Okay. Fine. Sorry I asked.”

“Are you?” you retort, and before he can say anything to retaliate, you storm back into your room and lock the door.

Your heart feels like it’s been split into two, one half yearning for the comfort and familiarity that comes with still liking Heeseung, and the other excited to explore what Sungchan could offer you—and what he already has offered. But for now, you decide to get some sleep. Your heart can wait.

TEN 

Minjeong is back.

Minjeong is fucking back, and she’s standing in your—Heeseung’s—living room, arms wide open and a grin on her lips so wide, her eyes crinkle in the corners. It takes all of your willpower not to launch yourself into her arms. Instead, you slow down, toe your shoes off, let your bag drop to the floor, and then launch yourself into her arms.

She laughs at your overzealous demeanour, and you giggle into her hair. God, you’d missed her. Texting every day and video calling every weekend can only do so much, and it’s nothing compared to seeing her in person.

“Hi,” she says, pulling back enough to escape your cage-like hold around her body.

“Hi,” you greet back, smiling so wide and so hard, you can feel your ears pop. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” She confirms your statement by nodding. “Only for a week, though.”

“Ah.”

Your best friend lets out a sheepish chuckle, and you take a step back. Her suitcase is on the floor next to her, and she’s kept her backpack on the sofa. “Are you gonna stay here?” you ask.

She winces. “No, there isn’t much space here. I booked a room at a hotel nearby. It’s, like, ten minutes by walk from here and it’s not very expensive either,” she assures.

“Okay,” you say, a little deflated. If Minjeong stayed with you, at least the awkwardness between you and Heeseung might be reduced by a small fraction. Her overbearing nature and ability to make conversation with literally anyone would be a lifesaver, given the situation you’ve dug yourself into.

A situation that she knows nothing about.

You haven’t had the time to keep Minjeong updated about the latest turn of events—not when she was busy juggling a relationship with her sort-of boyfriend, Choi Yeonjun. She doesn’t know about Sungchan, and she doesn’t know about your lingering feelings for Heeseung.

“Hey, you’re back already.”

Speak of the devil. 

You turn around and find Heeseung leaning against the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. You feel your breath hitch. He continues, “I guess Minjeong already beat me to it, huh?”

“You knew she was coming?” you ask him, almost accusatory. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Minjeong echos, a curious tinge to her tone.

He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “Wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

Against your will, you find yourself grinning at him. Heeseung dissolves in the slightest—a small hint of surprise—before he grins back at you, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. Minjeong lets out a small huff from next to you, but you know nothing can put a damper on your mood right now. Not even your resurfaced feelings for Heeseung, nor your newfound ones for Sungchan.

Your best friend squeezes your arm. “I have some time before I need to check in at the hotel. Do you wanna check out our old place?”

You turn to her and nod. The prospect of going back to the place where you created cherished memories with someone so dear to you is enticing; then you remember your car is still at the mechanic’s. “My car is out of commission.”

Minjeong only turns and stares at Heeseung. He sighs resignedly, pushing himself off the doorway and heading inside his room. “Let me grab my keys.”

“Might as well stop for ice cream along the way,” Minjeong calls out gleefully to his retreating back. 

You gulp. This… might not be a good idea. If Heeseung tags along with you, this would be the first time since last week where you’re speaking to him normally, making conversation that isn’t just along the lines of “Did you do the laundry?” or “I bought some vegetables”. Of course, if you told Minjeong what happened, she would immediately make sure Heeseung doesn’t come. You chew on your bottom lip, but before you can come to a decision, Heeseung emerges from his bedroom, car keys dangling off his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks.

Minjeong grabs onto your arm, excitement so visible on her face that it prompts the tension in your own features to melt away. You let yourself get carried away by her giddiness, not noticing the fond glances the only male in the group keeps giving you whenever he’s sure you’re not looking. If you’d met his eyes once throughout the drive to your old place, you’d see the way his eyes still twinkle at you with the same intensity as they did months ago, but you’re too busy catching up with Minjeong to notice.

Heeseung pulls to a stop in front of your old apartment building—a dilapidated structure that’s not half as modern as the current building you stay in. At least the elevator is still functioning; you purse your lips to contain your laugh when Heeseung looks at it, eyebrows raised in visible astonishment. Minjeong grips your hand tightly when you reach your floor. You tighten your hold on her hand as well, feeling a sudden burst of emotion erupt inside your chest like lava escaping from a volcano.

You and Minjeong round the corner to the apartment that used to be yours, Heeseung following closely. The door is the same dull brown it was back then as well, but someone has put in the effort to redo the varnish. There’s a potted fern next to it as well. 

You let out a shuddering breath. Minjeong wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close; you aren’t sure if it’s just the wind rattling through the open window, but you hear something like a sniffle.

This is the place you lived in when you had your first boyfriend, when you had your first heartbreak, when you cried your lungs out at some stupid TV show that you were invested in at the time but can’t possibly remember the name of now. This is the place where you and Minjeong bonded over crappy supermarket deals and made a mess of the kitchen whenever you tried to learn how to cook something new.

This is the place where you first met Lee Heeseung.

You tilt your head at him, watch as he stares resolutely ahead of him, like if glares at it strongly enough, he can bore two holes straight through the wood. Eventually, his eyes land on yours.

His lips part but no words come out. He offers you a small smile instead, one so tender and heart-warming and achingly familiar. You blink, and the moment is gone. You’re left with the same sense of wistfulness and longing that you always feel around him. 

Minjeong squeezes your shoulder, eyes shining. “Should we ring the bell?” she asks, and then presses the doorbell before you can respond.

A muffled “Coming!” from inside, and the latch is pulled open to reveal a college student—a few years younger than you, perhaps, with sleep bags underneath his eyes and a cup of coffee clutched to his chest. He looks confused—as anyone would be, you suppose, when you see a random bunch of strangers standing on your doorstep—but his expression clears when Minjeong explains who you are and why you’re here.

He says he’s living here with his boyfriend and their pet cat—a beautiful Siberian who coils itself around his legs, tail upturned—and you feel your heart swell with the knowledge that your old haven is being taken care of well. Minjeong consistently badgers him with questions and he answers each one patiently, to his credit. 

A flicker of uncertainty crosses your mind, however. Does Heeseung not remember this? He was looking for apartments in this building, too, when you met him. Doesn’t he remember the old landlady conversing with you? Doesn’t he remember the way people constantly asked if you two were together, which is what even prompted him to ask for your number in the first place? 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel a slight pressure on your shoulder. Heeseung’s hand is on your shoulder. Your gaze flits over to him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “There was a mosquito.”

He’s lying. 

He remembers. 

ELEVEN

“Spill.”

“The… tea?” you ask cautiously, looking at Minjeong. She’s holding a steaming mug of tea in her hand.

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know I am,” you quip, and she rolls her eyes again, taking a sip of the beverage.

“You’ve been distracted since yesterday,” she states matter-of-factly. “Since we went to our old place.” Her voice quietens, “Is it Heeseung? Did he do something?”

You eye her warily, sitting down on the plush armchair opposite her. “No,” you say.

“Then what is it? Did—did you not want me here?”

“No.” You’re quick to alleviate her concerns. “Of fucking course I wanted you here. I missed you. So much.”

Your best friend smiles at that, swirling the tea in the mug. “But something’s bothering you.”

“...Yes.” You admit it slowly, playing with your fingers splayed out on your lap. “It’s not important. You’re here only for a few days, we should do something fun.”

“Y/N,” Minjeong says slowly, enunciating every syllable of your name like she’s speaking to a troublesome child, “if you’re worried about me feeling bad or anything, please don’t. I want to help you.”

You wave her away. “You have your own shit to deal with.”

“What, you mean Yeonjun?” She snorts. “I’m over him. I was over him ages ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just.” You look down at your feet. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

Minjeong cocks her head to the side, studying you carefully. “Yes. I did. What about it?”

Your shoulder slump, dejectedness seeping into your figure. “How… did you do it?” You glance up at her, note the way she observes you carefully. Your voice is almost pleading when you continue, “How did you get over him?”

Your best friend’s expression clears, comprehension dawning on her face. She places her mug down, leaning forward and clasping your hand with hers. “It’s Heeseung, isn’t it?”

You shake your head miserably. “Not just him.”

“There’s someone else?” She doesn’t sound surprised, only intrigued and concerned.

You take a deep breath, lock gazes with her—and everything comes spilling out of your mouth like the tide receding into the ocean. You tell her everything, about Heeseung and Sungchan and how conflicted they make you feel; how one is like the living personification of sunlight on a gloomy day, and the other reminds you of clouds providing shade on a hot afternoon. You tell her about how guilty you feel, as though you’re leading Sungchan to believe that you’re ready for a committed relationship when a part of your heart still belongs to Heeseung. You speak until the words end up garbled and slurred, and your breathing turns heavy and salt water streaks across your cheeks, your best friend rubbing them away with the pad of her thumb.

When you don’t know what to say, Minjeong pulls you into a hug—it’s an awkward position, your elbows locked around her arms while your neck is bent at an odd angle, but it’s comforting, and you let your eyes close tiredly. 

“Y/N,” she says, rubbing her thumb on your shoulder soothingly. “I know it’s hard for you to decide, but you have to know: What do you want?”

The question makes you contemplate. What do you want? 

“I don’t know,” is all you can get out, slumping further into her arms.

She hums softly. “But you’ll figure it out. I know you will.”

Will you? You’re not so sure. Maybe when the time is right. But for now, you rest your chin on your best friend’s shoulder and let her rub circles onto your skin.

You pull back when the position becomes too uncomfortable—you can already feel a crick in your neck—and Minjeong wraps her fingers around her discarded mug. She raises it in a half-hearted toast. “To sexy girls who don’t need men in their lives.”

You giggle, rubbing your eyes. “Men are pieces of shit, anyway.”

“Damn right they are,” she croons, falling dramatically back onto the couch. “We should just get married instead.”

“If you propose to me the right way, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Minjeong grins at you, and it’s infectious enough to make you grin back at her. “Consider it done,” she says. “I have a ring in my nightstand drawer with your name written on it.”

“If it’s not pure diamond, I won’t accept.”

“Tsk. So greedy.”

TWELVE

Introducing Sungchan to Minjeong was not a part of your agenda for the week.

But it’s Sungchan and it’s Minjeong, so really, what else did you expect? Both of them integrated themselves seamlessly into your life, and they have no plans of leaving anytime soon. Might as well get the introductions over with.

Ironically, it happens when you go to collect your car from the mechanic’s, and once they’ve exchanged names and small talk, Minjeong and Sungchan are inseparable. The former regals him with tales of your college shenanigans, while the latter listens enthusiastically, eyes flitting between you both amusedly.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you hurriedly interrupt the conversation, right before Minjeong can go into the messy details of how you wanted to marry the toilet when you were drunk once and Heeseung had to physically carry you out of the house because you were convinced the white ceramic was proposing to you.

“You and Heeseung were together for a long time, huh?” Sungchan asks you quietly, once Minjeong is finished with her sulking at you interrupting her story. She’s at the side, conversing with someone on the phone, leaving you and your co-worker alone in front of your car.

You’re so startled by the question, you nearly drop your keys. “I—why do you ask?” 

Sungchan licks his lips, a seriousness to his figure that you haven’t witnessed many times before. “Just… curious, I suppose.”

You look down once, see how he’s twisted his fingers together—even the Jung Sungchan gets nervous, after all—and look back up at him. “Yes,” you admit softly, voice hitching slightly, “we were. We… were in love, I guess you could say.”

He’s silent for a minute, tongue darting out to lick his lips again. “And now?”

“I don’t know, Sungchan,” you answer him honestly. Your heart flutters inside your chest, while your stomach twists into tight knots—two reactions you didn’t think would go hand-in-hand, yet here you are, leaving your heart bare for Sungchan to take while gatekeeping a part of it to yourself.

He raises his head, warm eyes capturing yours. You see the smallest flicker of hope and sadness, two thin wisps of emotion dancing in his eyes—but even then, his lips are turned upwards, because it’s Jung Sungchan. 

“But you could try?” he asks, so softly you can barely catch the words.

You push down the emotions that threaten to swallow you whole, swirling around your entire body like the blood that flows through your veins. “I don’t know,” you say again, no less honest than the first time.

He opens his mouth, but Minjeong walks back to you both, mouth downturned. “My company said they need me back as soon as possible.” She says it calmly, but disappointment and bitterness seep into her voice.

For a moment, you freeze, and then ask, “When do you need to leave?”

“Tomorrow,” she answers with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. “They’ve already booked the flight.”

“Okay.” You nod. “I’ll drop you to the airport.”

“I’ll come with,” Sungchan chimes in, and adds, in true Sungchan fashion, “Make sure Y/N doesn’t drive us all into a ditch or something.”

You shove his shoulder, muttering an “asshole” under your breath, and his smile only widens. Minjeong glances in between you both, lower lip caught between her teeth, before she sucks in a breath and smiles. “Good to know my best friend is in good hands.”

“The best hands, actually,” Sungchan teasingly corrects. 

You roll your eyes at the two of them. “Can we go home now, or not?”

“Home it is,” Minjeong agrees, “but first, I demand Taco Bell.”

“Fine,” you concede, letting her grab the keys from your outstretched palm. 

Sungchan grabs your hand once she clambers into your fixed car. His palm is broad, skin warm, and his fingers wrap around yours with ease. He squeezes your hand once, gently, and it feels like a promise and a farewell at the same time.

Sungchan asks you out again three days after Minjeong leaves. 

This time, he takes you out to an Italian restaurant. He’s dressed up in a suit and a bowtie—and actual blue velvet bowtie that sits snugly at the hollow of his neck—and he’s the perfect gentleman, pulling your chair out for you and pouring champagne into your glass like a professional. (When you compliment him on his drink-pouring skills, he just mutters bashfully about how his dad taught him that to please a lady, you need to be good at pouring drinks; it does nothing to ease the quickening pace of your heart.)

Jung Sungchan compliments your dress, says that that specific shade of pink looks beautiful on you. He recommends you try out their vegetable lasagne, says it’s one of the dishes the restaurant is famous for. He laughs about his favourite show, tells you he would love to rewatch it with you someday. He asks if you like gardens because his neighbour is trying to convince him to grow a rosebush outside his house, but he can’t look after plants even if his life depended on it. He wants to go out for ice cream afterwards, but the night is too chilly for the cold dessert so you opt against it.

Throughout, you play someone who’s on her first date, who thinks this is all there is and everything she’s been dreaming of has come true.

You would like to think you’re a good actor.

Lee Heeseung has seen you in nothing but sweatpants and old t-shirts and he used to whisper praises against your skin, flushed with sweat and sweet words. He ate the shitty lasagne you made without complaining, no matter how bad it tasted. He watched whatever was playing on television with you, just because he enjoyed your company and wanted to be wherever you were. He’s not particularly good with plants, but he has a little succulent named Spurt, making sure it gets enough sunlight and water. He likes mint chocolate ice cream, and would defend the flavour with his life.

Lee Heeseung and Jung Sungchan: Two sides of the same coin.

Minjeong’s question resonates in your mind as you and Sungchan walk back to your car.

What do you want?

As you near your vehicle, Sungchan puts a gentle hand on your arm. “Y/N,” is all he says, and you hate the way your chest clenches at that—just because he said your name.

“Did you have fun today?” he continues, eyes roaming over your features like he’s committing you to memory. Like a soldier leaving his wife before he heads out to the frontlines.

“I did, Sungchan. I really did.” You place your hand over his, tracing the veins on the back of his hand, pressing lightly on his knuckles; you need him to know that you truly enjoyed today—desperate for him to know, because it’s the least you can do for him after everything he’s done for you.

“Good,” he says. “I—I had fun today with you, too. I always have fun when I’m with you, Y/N.”

He bends down. You can feel his breath fan out on the shell of your ear and it makes you shiver. He turns his head, and his lips brush against your cheek. A small, soft farewell. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—” you begin, feeling your voice begin to wobble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Sungchan whispers, but he sounds firm. “We’re still friends.”

Your heart plummets deep, deep down, a free fall that isn’t orchestrated by gravity. You think you know the answer to Minjeong’s question now.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to Sungchan.

THIRTEEN

The light is on when you enter the apartment. Heeseung’s figure lies hunched on the sofa, head in his hands, a half-empty beer can next to him. You quickly shuck off your heels and drop your purse onto the shoe rack.

Your ex-boyfriend looks at you when pad over to the living room. “You’re back.” He sounds hoarse, tired. 

“Have you been drinking?” you say in return, raising an eyebrow. 

Heeseung glances at the can in his hand then back at you. “Yeah. Long day.”

“Me too,” you admit quietly.

Perhaps it’s the quiet ambience of your shared home—silent, despite the noise of the city outside—that compels him; or maybe it’s the idea of coming home to someone you think you know better than the back of your own hand. Either way, when Heeseung pats the cushion beside him, your feet move automatically and you sit down, letting out a weary sigh.

It’s quiet, but not in the awkward sense. Not like back then, when Heeseung thought you and Sungchan were dating. Not even when you visited your old apartment. Exhaustion makes its home in your bones, and you suspect it’s taken over Heeseung too; there’s no way this shared piece of night can be so comfortable otherwise.

“Want some?” he asks after a few minutes.

“No thanks.”

Heeseung shrugs and puts the can down on the coffee table. “Wanna talk about it?” He leans back against the sofa, arms crossed behind his head.

“No,” you answer, and then, “Do you?”

“No.” He clears his throat, glancing sideways at you. “Were you with… Sungchan?”

“...Yes.”

You don’t have to look at Heeseung to know he’s clenching his jaw. It’s a pure rush of adrenaline that makes you ask, “Why does it bother you so much whenever I’m with him?”

Silence.

You turn your head, cheek brushing against the back of the sofa. Heeseung’s eyes are closed, hair falling in loose strands around his forehead and neck. You wonder what he’s thinking.

His answer excites you—in the rawest form possible. Anticipation builds up in your chest, threatens to explode through your windpipe. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze, there is nothing you can do to stop your heart from rabbiting inside your rib cage.

“It doesn’t,” he says finally, an air of decisiveness about him.

For the second time that night, your heart plummets, and you tear your eyes off him. “Okay,” you say. “That is, um, good information to have.”

“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” 

“How does it matter to you?”

Heeseung crosses and uncrosses his ankles, this time staring resolutely at the floor. “I don’t know. It just does.”

You purse your lips. He isn’t being fair to you. “What about you?” you demand. “What about that girl you almost brought back home, huh?”

His mouth twitches. “You saw that.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“I’m not blind, Heeseung,” you retort.

Your roommate lets out a sardonic chuckle at that, slowly dragging his eyes up. “I highly doubt that.”

“What do you mean?” You scowl at him, feeling your chest begin to heave. “You—you’re like some kind of a riddle, Heeseung. I can never tell what you mean by anything, and it’s even worse now that you’re drunk and—”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N,” he interrupts. 

“I don’t care if you’re drunk or not—” you don’t realise your voice is caving in, growing softer and softer by the second— “stop saying things you don’t mean.”

“I want to kiss you,” he says finally. “I want to kiss you and I may be slightly drunk, but I don’t fucking care. And I mean it.”

You swallow, blood pounding through your veins. “Say that again.”

“What?” he says, sounding genuinely confused. His gaze never leaves your face, every ounce of earnestness and honesty written plainly on his features.

“Say it again,” you repeat.

“I want—”

You surge forward, capturing his lips with yours, pressing them firmly against his even when he lets out a muffled gasp. He doesn’t kiss back immediately, but his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly and crumpling the flimsy material of your dress. He kisses you back then, mouth jutting insistently into yours, tongue sliding against your lower lip. You arch your back, scramble to find some balance in this precarious position, and your hands end up tangled in his hair. He tastes like beer and aftershave and something that’s so distinctly Heeseung, you want more.

You pull away when air becomes a necessity, blinking even as Heeseung’s arms pull you closer to him.

“This isn’t over,” you manage to get out in between huffed breaths.

“Tomorrow,” he promises, but his eyes are glazed. He looks at you like a man starved, and tilts his head and kisses you again, kisses you like he might never see you again. 

You let him. It’s Lee Heeseung, after all, and you’ve always been a little weak for him.

You don’t think of Sungchan; don’t let him come out of the tiny pocket you’ve preserved in your heart just for him. Instead, you wrap your arms around your ex-boyfriend’s neck, leaning into his chest and kissing him back with equal fervour, letting him know that you need him as much as he needs you.

God, you’d missed him. Way more than you thought. You’ve memorised his touch, branded it into your mind, but it still feels new. Like the first time you were with him, kissing like two teenagers with reckless abandon. 

His cold fingers find their way underneath your waist, hitching up the loose material of your dress around your thighs. You kneel on the couch cushions in front of him, almost straddling his lap but not quite. His fingers brush against your sides in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

He nips at your lip, asking for entrance to your mouth to which you accept, parting your lips enough for him to get a taste. As he moves his tongue around yours, exploring your mouth in every way possible, you can’t contain the slight whimper that escapes your throat. 

Heeseung groans, leaning his weight onto you as you both start moving together until you’re laid flat against the couch. He’s impatient, you can tell; his fingers dig into your skin, and he groans again when you bite down gently on his lower lip. He pulls back and moves downwards, kissing your jaw and behind your ear, suckling gently on a sensitive bit of skin with expertise. “Tell me to stop,” he says, whispering the words against your skin.

All you do is moan in response, rubbing your thighs together to get some friction with the way he’s moving his mouth against your skin. 

“Tell me to stop,” he says again, more firmly this time.

“Shut the fuck up, Hee,” is all you reply with, the nickname falling out of your lips with familiarity. 

Maybe it’s the use of something that used to be your thing—something the two of you shared, the shortened version of his name—but hearing it come out of your lips again does things to Heeseung that he isn’t sure he’d ever be able to put into words for you. Trailing his movements down to your neck, he stops at your chest, a small smile spreading on his face. “Forgot how much I loved it when you called me that.”

Looking down at him, you hadn’t realised he’s moved further down your body and his fingers trace the edges of your underwear. Your dress is bunched up above your thighs, skin exposed to the cool air. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbles, pressing a tiny kiss to the inside of your thighs. He toys with the elastic of the waistband, chuckling when you shoot him an irritated glare.

He stares down at your clothed core, mouth watering while his hands move faster than you can comprehend. It takes him two seconds to hook his slender fingers underneath the waistband of your panties before he pulls them down to your ankles and tosses them onto the coffee table. 

You feel a wave of shyness overcome you—with the way he’s looking at you, desperate for your taste—and you try to close your legs, before his hands land on your thighs, halting your actions. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “I want to see all of you.”

Heat burns your cheeks and flows through your body. You turn your head to avoid his burning gaze as you feel him part your legs. He readjusts himself, laying as flat and comfortably as he can with what little space he has on the couch until he’s face-to-face with where you need him most. He tests the waters, leaning in with his tongue out, letting it graze your clit. You stifle a moan, biting your lip so hard, you think it might bleed.

He smiles, loving how you’re holding back. “So quiet, baby. Wanna remember how I used to make you feel.” Laying his tongue flat against your clit, he gives you slow and soft strokes—so gentle that it drives you insane. 

“You’re such—such a tease,” you gasp out, right when he swirls his tongue around the nub.

Heeseung only raises an eyebrow at that. “You haven’t changed.” But all the same, any plans he had to be patient with you go straight out the window; he wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you down further to his face. The sudden pull surprises you, and you gasp a little while searching for something to grab onto. He indulges in your pussy, tongue exploring your pulsating hole that clenches around everything and nothing all at once. He relishes in the way you feel on his tongue, groaning against your folds while bringing a hand up and rubbing his thumb on your neglected clit. 

You’re a mess under his touch, squirming on the sofa, loud groans and soft mewls escaping your lips wantonly. Your fingers find their way into his soft locks, pulling gently on his hair and scratching against his scalp. He lets out a moan against your pussy, lapping at your juices as if you’re his last source of water. “F-fuck, Hee, ‘m gonna—” a gasp— “‘m gonna cum.”

This only encourages him to work his mouth harder, wanting to watch you fall apart just by his mouth alone. You tug harder at his hair, moans growing louder and more desperate by the second, and your thighs shudder around his head, feeling the rush of your high come so close, you aren’t prepared for it.

With two final sucks to your clit, you come undone on his tongue followed by a string of moans with broken pieces of his name somewhere in between. Heeseung looks up at you with bright eyes and a satisfied grin, as if he didn’t just eat out your pussy like he would never get the chance to again. The mixture of saliva and your juices dripping down his chin makes your eyes widen even as you squint down at him. 

With careful, deliberate motions, he moves away from you, the grin on his face replaced by a more serious expression. You sit up, leaning on your elbows. The aftermath of your passionate actions catches up to you; reaching over, you snatch your panties from the coffee table and swing your legs over. Throughout, Heeseung doesn’t say anything. He only watches, in that quiet, observant way of his, swiping at his mouth and chin with a tissue he grabbed from the tissue box next to the couch.

You glance at him. Is he going to say something? Or is he going to let you walk away again, with all the words you want to say to him lying on the tip of your tongue, always there but never released?

“Y/N.” He scrambles to his feet when you stand up, clutching your underwear in one hand and adjusting your dress with the other. He sounds… uncertain. Completely unlike the Heeseung who cockily asked you if Sungchan was your boyfriend, or who joked around with Minjeong like it was second nature to him.

You bite your lip. “Yes?”

“Do you… do you want anything? Water?” 

You melt a little at his words like an ice cream left out for too long. Lee Heeseung, always so kind, always so caring—you know that better than anyone. 

He can be cruel too, in the way he chips away at your already broken heart. He doesn’t know it but he does—lift your hopes only to let it all crumble down. Like how he broke the promises you made to each other, and how you broke the words you’d sworn to say to him alone.

It hits you again, how you and Heeseung were meant to be, and how lonely it was when he left. You wonder if he feels the same way—did he spend sleepless nights in bed, thinking of you? Did he ever think that if he could travel back in time, he’d do it all over again?

You shake your head no at him. He doesn’t say anything after that, but his lips part slightly. He watches you as you walk over to grab your purse and head inside your room.

That night, you don’t sleep at all—despite wrapping yourself up in your Looney Tunes comforter and the comforting weight of your pillow beneath your head that usually puts you to sleep instantly. 

Instead, it feels like the very first night you and Heeseung broke up all over again.

SIXTEEN

You don’t tell anyone about what transpired between you and Heeseung. It remains hidden between you both, a secret neither of you are willing to bring up.

Minjeong is back to work at her new city, now completely devoid of boy problems of any sort, since Choi Yeonjun has shifted his affections to another co-worker. (“It’s better this way,” she tells you, “he didn’t want a committed relationship, anyway.” You can tell she’s truly not bothered by it, so you grin and agree.)

Sungchan doesn’t come around to your cubicle the way he used to earlier, either. Your days at the office are dreary and boring, now that your co-worker’s sunshine smile isn’t there to keep you company. In fact, the only person who still talks to you voluntarily at work is your boss, Seunghcheol, but even then it’s mostly just a sympathetic smile he offers you followed by a new deadline or a project.

You and Heeseung are back to whatever it was you had when you first moved in, before the lasagne fiasco. Not talking to each other, but not not talking to each other either. You swerve around each other in tandem, finding more and more excuses to avoid whatever happened in between you both. He lied when he said he would talk to you about it the next day, after he ate you out on the couch.

You can’t blame him completely; you’ve made no effort to reach out to him, either.

Weariness seeps into your skin with every passing second. You rub at your already half-closed eyes and hide a yawn behind a closed fist. The letters on your laptop screen swim in front of you. The stack of folders next to it drags a tired sigh out of your lips.

You’re so tired. Not just physically, but emotionally you’re drained out, all the liveliness sucked out of you like someone vacuumed up the inside of your heart. The lack of sleep is getting to you; the lack of someone to brighten up your days is getting to you more.

If you and Sungchan were still on a talking basis, he would have sauntered over to your desk by now, hands in his pockets and the same question on his lips: “Coffee break?”

He’s not here now, probably tucked into his corner of the floor. Maybe his smile is directed at someone else. Maybe he’s taking someone else on the daily ritual that you used to consider yours. Maybe it’s time you get out of your fucking swivel chair and get some coffee.

You’re not doing it alone, of course. No, coffee at the office—no matter how shitty the machine is and how long the line for the coveted caffeine is—is yours and Sungchan’s thing. Besides, he said you’re still friends; it’s time for you to step up.

Stifling another yawn, you blink slowly before pushing yourself off your chair. It occurs to you that you don’t know exactly where Sungchan’s cubicle is—he’d mentioned it was by Seungcheol’s room once. You decide to start there.

It doesn’t take you long to find Sungchan. You walk into him—literally walk into him. A startled gasp leaves your lips when you collide into someone’s chest, an apology already on the tip of your tongue.

“Are you okay?”

You blink once. The voice is familiar. You direct your gaze at the person you bumped into. 

“Sungchan,” you breathe out weakly.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The one and only.”

“I-I’m sorry I bumped into you,” you quickly apologise. “I was on my—”

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” he interrupts. “I should’ve looked at where I was going too.”

“How… have you been?” The question spills out before you notice, and you realise that you’re genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. You’ve missed him, missed his companionship. 

Sungchan looks briefly surprised that you’ve asked him. He clears his throat, once. “Oh, um. I’ve been fine—y’know, the usual. Work, home, sleep and then repeat. How—how about you?”

“I’ve been better,” you admit. “You look tired, though.”

He lifts his hand and rubs his cheek with an accompanying embarrassed chuckle. “You could tell?”

He has bags underneath his eyes. His shoulders sag ever-so slightly. His usually perfectly styled hair isn’t as neat as it used to be. You nod. “You look exhausted.”

“Ah.” Another embarrassed chuckle; you can tell he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Coffee break?” you offer, a small, lopsided smile gracing your lips.

This time, the smile Jung Sungchan gives you lights up his eyes.

SEVENTEEN

“This is ridiculous!” you call out for the nth time, glaring at the door with as much intensity as you can muster.

“Minjeong’s orders!” Sungchan calls back, from outside the room. “I have proof that she asked me to lock you two up in order for you to talk it out.”

Heeseung huffs out a breathless laugh from behind you. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, sheets crumpled and pillow on his lap. You turn around to level your glare at him.

“Give it up,” he advises.

“Don’t even.” You pinch the bride of your nose, closing your eyes in exasperation. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? No one told you to tell Sungchan everything!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know he would go and tell Minjeong?” you splutter out, opening your eyes and bringing your hand down. “I didn’t even know they’d exchanged numbers!”

“Might as well get it over with,” Sungchan’s voice travels through the barricade once more. “The sooner the better.”

“I didn’t ask you, Sungchan,” you mutter.

“He’s right, you know.” Heeseung pats the space next to him, inviting you to sit down. “If Minjeong hadn’t forced him to do it, I would have found some way to do it myself.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” you retort. “You’ve been avoiding me since the day we—since the day we kissed.”

“I would have tried,” he reasons. “But since you’re here now, can you at least please listen to what I have to say?”

“Oh, so now you have things you want to say,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. Regardless, you sit down next to him. You’re curious, you will admit. This conversation could potentially break your heart, or it could also change the trajectory of your relationship with Heeseung.

Your ex-boyfriend takes a deep breath before beginning.

“The other day, when I said I wanted to kiss you—I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I truly meant it. I’ve wanted to kiss you the minute I laid eyes on you again. I wanted to hold your hand, to take you places around the neighbourhood, to come back home to you.

“I thought we were making progress. I thought we were friends again, and I could somehow win your heart back.” A wry smile crosses his lips. “But then Sungchan came by, and you both just seemed so close. He—he brought back this life in you; your eyes sparkled whenever he was around, and you were always smiling when you were with him. I never saw that after we… after you moved in. You were always so jittery with me—understandably so—and I… I let my jealousy of seeing you with Sungchan get the better of me.

“That day, when I—” he pauses, glancing at you; his eyes are imploring, and you sense that he’s laying himself bare for you— “when you saw me kissing that girl, I did it on purpose. To make you jealous. And then I saw the look on your face, and even when I was drunk, I knew I’d fucked up. So I left her, and I followed you back inside—you closed the door just as I caught up with you. I called up Beomgyu, spent the night at his place. I think that’s when I realised completely that I—that I still love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. Your heart is hammering inside your chest. You can’t believe you’re actually hearing these words.

Heeseung swallows. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Even after we broke up, even after all the things we said to each other—some part of me knew that I shouldn’t give up on you. I have loved you throughout. I will continue to love you throughout.”

He looks down, staring at his hands. In that instant, he looks so small. Vulnerable. As if giving his entire heart to you on a silver platter isn’t enough. As if he’s giving all of himself to you, mind, body and soul.

You need to tell him that your mind, body and soul have always been his.

“Heeseung,” you begin, watching as his eyes travel over to yours uncertainly, “you absolute fucking idiot.”

His lips twitch up briefly. “Wha—”

“I love you, too, idiot.” The words rush out breathlessly. “I never stopped.”

Heeseung’s eyes widen and his mouth opens imperceptibly. You continue, “I knew this would happen. The minute I stepped foot into your house, I knew I would fall for you all over again.”

You reach out and grip his hand, needing something to tether you against him. “And I did.” A watery laugh escapes your mouth. “I fell in love with you all over again.”

A pause, and then Heeseung’s free hand cups your cheek, skin warm against yours. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Heeseung smiles at your confession—a full smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners and his lips turning upwards. He leans forward. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You beat him to it, covering the distance between you both with one swift swoop. You capture his lower lip in between yours, hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself. He kisses you back with equal fervour, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer. You close your eyes and slide your tongue across the seam of his lips, smiling when he lets out a silent groan. 

He only pulls away once he needs air, but even then he doesn’t let you go. He pulls you forward, making you straddle his lap as he kisses your cheeks, your nose, the column of your throat. You relish in his touches, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging gently at the silky strands.

“We should probably stop,” you whisper, when a particularly sharp nip at your neck elicits a soft moan from you. “Sungchan’s standing outside.”

“Fuck him,” Heeseung says. He presses another kiss on your jaw, looking up at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the universe.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him. “C’mon. I don’t want to scar him for life.”

“Who cares?”

“I care,” you say, slowly getting off his lap. Already you can feel the absence of his warmth. 

“Fine,” he agrees, once you stand up fully and brush yourself off. “I love you.”

Warmth shoots up your chest and onto your cheeks and neck. Your heart swells, and you find yourself grinning involuntarily. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Heeseung stands up and pecks your cheek. “Now let’s go save Sungchan from his misery.”

(Later, if you find Sungchan with bright pink ears as he pointedly avoids yours and Heeseung’s gaze, that’s no one’s business but his.)

EIGHTEEN

Heeseung sucks on a sweet spot right underneath your ear and you can practically hear his smirk when you let out a whine. You fist your hand in the sheets, feeling the soft material crinkle underneath your fingertips. 

“Such a tease,” you whisper out.

He lowers his head, nips at your neck and then runs his tongue over the spot, soothing it. “So you’ve mentioned.”

Your retort dies on your lips when he moves lower and lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones and shoulders. You whine again when his fingers find your nipple, pinching the bud lightly in between his thumb and forefingers. He moves lower, breath ghosting over your abdomen and belly button, until he finally comes face to face with your clothed pussy.

He hooks his finger into the waistband of your panties, nails scraping against your skin. You squirm under his touch, lifting your hips to help him pull the flimsy garment down your legs and toss it to the side. Heeseung sucks in a breath sharply when he sees your exposed cunt—despite already having seen it before, and you feel a rush of pride at the fact that you still have this effect on him. “So pretty,” he murmurs, eyeing your folds hungrily. 

Heeseung works on your clit expertly, thumb rubbing against the nub, eliciting a loud moan from you. He licks a stripe up your folds, grinning when your hand automatically finds itself in his hair again. When he finds you’re wet enough, he slides a finger in. You inhale sharply, hole clenching around the digit. He circles his thumb around your clit once more, before sliding another finger in.

You gasp at that, tightening the hand in his hair. Heeseung leans forward, swiping at your clit with his tongue one more time and pulling both his fingers out at the same time. He relishes in the sounds coming out of your mouth, feeling proud that you’re not trying to hide anything from him. You’re completely under his mercy, as is he when it comes to you.

He slides both the fingers back in, hissing when your walls contract against them, pumping the digits in and out a few more times. The way you moan—because of him—makes him finger your hole faster, enjoying the way your moans increase in pitch. When he sees your eyes beginning to cloud over, Heeseung quickly withdraws his fingers. You whimper at the loss of his touch and he chuckles. “Patience, baby. Don’t want you to cum just yet.”

Your head falls back on the pillow and you mutter a string of incoherent words under your breath. “Look at me,” Heeseung tuts.

You lift up your neck curiously. Heeseung waits for your eyes to land on his lips before he slowly, deliberately puts his two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and licking your juices off. He doesn’t fail to notice the way you bite your lip at the sight.

Once he pulls his fingers out, Heeseung bends down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you even gonna fuck me, Hee?” you grit out, and his eyes widen.

“Call me that again,” he orders. 

“Fuck me, Hee.” Your voice is borderline a whimper, and, well—who is Heeseung to prevent you from getting what you desire? After all, he’s always been a little weak when it comes to you.

He gets on his knees, holding his throbbing cock in his hand. He pumps it a few times, groaning softly, before positioning himself at your entrance. “You’re on the pill?”

“Yes.” You nod almost desperately, waiting for him to slide it all the way in.

Heeseung enters you slowly—the pace is almost unbearable—but he shudders when he feels your walls against his dick. You grab onto his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. A loud moan escapes your lips when he jerks his hips forward, his cock pressing into your cervix. Your eyes screw shut, and Heeseung grunts, pulling out and thrusting back inside with more force. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your legs around his hips, granting him more access to your hole and allowing him to push himself deeper inside you.

He leans down and captures a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the pebbled bud. You gasp out moans wantonly, and it spurs him to thrust faster and faster inside you. He watches you fall apart on him, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips when your moans become interspersed with chants of his name. 

Your grip on his shoulders tighten and the muscles flex under your hold. Your cries reach a crescendo with one particularly sharp thrust; Heeseung can tell your climax is approaching.

He speeds up, pumping into you with as much strength as he can muster. Your nails leave white-hot trails along his back, his shoulders—you try to hold onto him as best as you can. You cry for more, beg him to keep going. A bit redundant, in his opinion—he has no plans of stopping until you’ve orgasmed. 

Heeseung thrusts into you one last time, throwing you over the edge. Your walls clench around his cock tightly, black stars floating in your vision as you cry out his name. He pumps into you weakly, letting you ride out your orgasm while chasing his own high. He buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, and when your walls tighten around him, he comes inside you, his movements coming to a pause. 

You stroke his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, both of you catching your breaths. He remains sheathed in you, even as he pulls you onto your side so both your chests are touching. 

“Feel good?” he asks, one hand carding through your hair gently.

You let out a tired, but satisfied hum, smiling softly at Heeseung. 

You spend the night curled up in his arms. He sleeps soundly next to you, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and hands wrapped protectively around your figure. The steady thrum of his heartbeat sounds against your ear, and you smile, even in your sleep.

NINETEEN

“You have your thinking face on.” Your boyfriend saunters into the kitchen, a knowing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at him. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t see it too,” you say pointedly, waving your wooden spatula at him.

Heeseung chuckles, moving over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “What, that Sungchan and Minjeong are meant to be? That smells amazing, by the way, love.”

“Yes,” you huff out, stirring the soup inside the pot boiling on the stove. “And thank you.”

From the living room, you can hear your two friends laughing over something you couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend. Minjeong still lives in another city, but she comes over to visit whenever she can. You and Sungchan remain friends, and he often comes over whenever you, Heeseung and Minjeong decide to hang out—though, you suspect his enthusiasm to join you three has more to do with one particular person rather than the entire group.

“If you say so,” Heeseung agrees. “I think they’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at each other that way,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Really? I seem to recall him looking at you the exact same way not too long ago.”

“That’s different, Hee. Here, can you taste some? I don’t want it to be too salty.” Grabbing a large spoon, you dip it in the pot and offer it to Heeseung.

He obliges, letting you shove the spoonful into his mouth—and yelps almost immediately. “Ouch! You didn’t tell me it was hot.”

You only raise an eyebrow at him, but a small hint of amusement dances in your eyes. “How does it taste?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you but rests his chin on your shoulder; his hair tickles your ear. “It tastes amazing as always, love.”

“You’re sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“I’m offended you think I would lie to you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you deadpan, and it makes Heeseung giggle.

“I’m serious, it tastes good.” He smiles at you, peeling himself away from you. “Let’s go join the other two.”

“Coming.” You put the stove on simmer and grab Heeseung’s extended hand. His fingers slot in between yours easily. Your lips curl upwards on their own accord, and your heart feels so full, it’s close to bursting.

You’re there, in a room with all your favourite people, and it’s perfect.

The very first night you and Heeseung broke up is pushed to the back of your mind, never to slip out of the corner you’ve tucked it into. The nights after made up for it, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You rebuild the promises you made and make new ones along the way.

You’d write it in the sky if you could, but you and Heeseung don’t need that. 

#heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #heeseung angst #enhypen angst #heeseung scenarios #enhypen scenarios #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #enha smut #enha imagines #enha angst #enha scenarios #enha fanfiction #enhypen #heeseung

[snaillock]

would you do satosugu discovering their "friend" (both of them have a fatass crush on m!reader) is a teen dad, and just all of them chaotically taking care of a baby. (like those collage students raising a baby tiktoks?)

ok so technically i only write for blue lock buttttttttttt… i am more than willing to make an exception for this. this is also my favorite niche of satosugu fics so im super honored someone requested it from me

tags: male reader has a foster daughter bc hell yeah girl dads, unnamed child bc that's too much for me, reader is a sorcerer, found family but in a janked up kinda way, whipped satosugu, pre-hidden inventory so everyone is in high school in this this a long one yall

part two coming soon!

★ when assigned an extremely harsh mission, you find an orphaned child barely a year old within all the rumble. you soon found out her family was recently killed in the destruction. unsure of what would happen to her after this, you decided to take her as your own.

★ scared of any judgment, you didn’t tell anyone about her so only a few higher-ups were aware. luckily you were allowed to live off campus so you two could have more space and privacy.

★ however the physical effects of raising a kid all on your own at such a young age were certainly showing. you came to school visibly worn down, often falling asleep in the middle of class and taking more absences than usual.

★ the first people to notice, of course, were gojo and geto. as nosy as they were, they tried not to push it, knowing you had just come back from a really taxing mission. though they did get more and more suspicious whenever you didn’t let them visit your new place.

★ however one day, they did spot you out in public wearing a baby carrier with, of course, a baby they’d never seen before resting right inside. they immediately came up to you and bombarded you with multiple questions before you got them to chill out and explained everything.

★ wanting you to take some time off (and win you over), they offer to take care of her regularly. who were you to refuse? after all, it is free babysitting and you were already using up so much money hiring actual babysitters.

★ during their first babysitting job, you thanked them profusely before going back into your room and instantly falling asleep the moment your body hit your bed, taking a very well-deserved nap.

★ you see, gojo was already pretty hesitant about you having a kid around. this was before he took in megumi so he found basically any child gross and annoying. (though he’s somehow even more attracted to you now that you’re a dad.)

★ coughs dilf lover gojo i mean what?

★ so when gojo picked up your baby for the first time, she immediately cried when they made eye contact and he got so so personally offended that he started rethinking this whole babysitting thing.

★ the first thirty minutes or so of taking care of your kid went pretty okay. that was until she started crying again and neither of them knew why.

★ you see, these idiots have no idea how to care for a child.

★ they frantically tried to calm her down and figure out what was wrong without needing to wake you. they checked if she was hurt in any way, she definitely wasn’t hungry since they already fed her, nor did she need to be changed. gojo even called shoko to see if she could do anything.

★ when they eventually saw her crawling towards your room and sobbing right outside your door, hesitantly let her in to see her climb onto your bed and lay down with you, realizing she just missed you the whole time. that entire experience made them so exhausted that they almost climbed into bed with you. but when they saw the gratitude on your face after you woke up, it made it all worth it.

★ luckily the next few times they watched over her, babysitting got more and more easy as she grew used to them.

★ they start coming over so often to look after her that your place basically becomes their second home.

★ geto is in charge of doing her hair since the last time gojo attempted it, it was just a big mess of hair ties and ribbons. geto’s definitely not complaining since he loves to get her ready. in fact, geto does a lot of the responsible stuff when taking care of her since gojo, hmm what’s a nice way to put it, lacks a lot of the necessary skills.

★ oh yeah, remember what i said about gojo hating younger children? yeah, that completely changes as he spends more time with your daughter. he’s almost always playing with her or showing up with a brand new toy or stuffed animal just for her. he ends up loving her so so much and wants to be her cool fun dad.

★ unfortunately both of them are way too nice when it comes to disciplining her. they let her get away with so much. late bedtimes, too much tv, grabbing any treats she wants off the grocery store shelves. how can they not spoil such an adorable little girl like her!?

★ what’s also unfortunate is how they try to drag you into it.

“come on, y/n. let loose a little. cake for dinner does sound pretty appetizing right now.”

“come on. just let her watch ten more minutes before bed.” gojo lazed on the couch with her on his lap. “besides this cartoon is starting to get good.”

“come onnn… just let her buy it.” geto held up a sparkly pink dress you already told him she doesn’t need with his own sparkles in his eyes. “she’ll look so cute in it. i promise i’ll pay you back.”

★ their hearts explode whenever you’re affectionate with her. they love the way you gently rock her in your arms while humming a sweet lullaby, slowly lulling her to sleep. the way they see you kiss her forehead after placing her into the crib before quickly turning around and acting like they weren’t staring the whole time. they fall head over heels for you for probably the twentieth time by now since they met you but those times were definitely the hardest.

★ they’ve been in her life for a good while so when she begins talking more frequently, she starts calling them her papas as she does with you. gojo aka former “ugh kids are so gross and icky” feels his heart combusting whenever she calls him that and he owns that title proudly. meanwhile geto feels so endeared and honored that she sees him that way.

★ “we’re not the stepdads. we’re the dads that stepped up!” looking asses.💀

★ the secret of you having a kid doesn’t last for long since these two can’t keep quiet about it. they’re just way too happy and want to show her off. especially gojo who scrolls through 100s of photos of her while gushing about her to basically anyone who’ll listen. shoko and nanami are the most common targets whenever this happens.

★ he even ends up showing photos of you and your daughter napping together (that you had no idea he took), making you snatch his phone away in embarrassment.

★ whenever you guys go out on family dates to go to the beach or picnicking, geto always takes the time to dress her up with pretty hairstyles and cute little outfits. he absolutely loves doting on her.

★ they love her with all their hearts and would do absolutely anything for her. she’s so lucky to have three weird dads take care of her and raise her. a very odd and… unconventional family dynamic but an amazing one nonetheless. this family only grows bigger and bigger once gojo takes in megumi and geto practically adopts mimiko and nanako.

please read my rules before following

taglist: @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo

ayo we rocking with the star bullet points?? 🗣️⁉️

#★ snail.writes ★ #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #satosugu x male reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #gojo x male reader #geto x male reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #finished this up while watching drew gooden

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Favoritism

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Captain Levi wouldn't let his feelings for a scout under him get in the way of his professionalism, right?

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N, Levi being a dick to others, implied smut, making out, nudity, titan deaths, drinking.

Word Count: 2.5K

Masterlist

Y/N sat in the conference room, tapping her foot nervously. It was time for assessment of the newest scouts and she was the last to go. Every single one of them had come out of Captain Levi’s office either looking dejected, shaken up, or outright crying. She had no clue what he could possibly be saying to everyone to elicit such reactions. Everyone had been nervous and she had no idea why. Captain Levi had been nothing but decent to her but her former classmates didn’t seem to share her view. In contrast, she wasn’t nervous for her meeting until she saw everyone else’s reactions.

As the door opened across the hall, she could hear quiet sobs followed by footsteps running down the hall. After a couple minutes, Captain Levi appeared in the door frame. “L/N?” he called before turning on his heel and walking back into his office. She followed after him quickly, stepping into his office as he held the door for her. Once she was inside, he shut the door behind her and gestured for her to sit. She complied as her captain took a seat across from her behind the desk. He took a moment to look through some papers before speaking. “So going over what your instructors had said when you were a cadet I’m not at all surprised you’re doing so well. You work well with the team and communicate. You’ve shown just how skilled you are in titan combat and you’re very professional in the workplace.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“My only suggestion is to stop taking such big risks. Your actions have never risked anyone else’s safety so I’ve never felt the need to say anything. But for your sake, make sure you’re not putting yourself in any unnecessary danger.”

“Understood, sir.”

“And with that in mind, I’d like to offer you a spot on the Special Operations Squad. We could use someone like you,” he said with the slightest ghost of a smile.

Her breath hitched and she was pretty sure her eyes widened. A spot on Captain Levi’s team? The Levi Squad, as it had been dubbed, was the best and most exclusive unit in all of the Scouts Regiment. “I’d love to, sir. Thank you.”

His shadow of a smile grew into a small one as he sat back in his seat. “Good. Seeing as I have nothing else to complain about, you’re dismissed.”

Not wanting to embarrass herself out of joy and excitement, she hurried out of the office. That was the meeting that had sent the rest of her teammates off crying? She didn’t dwell on it as she walked back towards her living quarters. As she walked through the hall, she could hear faint sobs and hushed, angry whispers coming through the doors. She ignored them until suddenly one of her classmates left her room with slightly red eyes. “Oh, Y/N,” Zelma greeted. “How was your meeting with the captain?” she asked, pity already creeping into her expression.

The newest member of the Special Operations Squad froze. Did she tell people? It would seem like she was rubbing it in everyone else’s faces. But they’d all find out eventually, right? Still, there was still time for her to tell them. It didn’t have to come on the heels of everyone else’s tears. “It was fine. He just chewed me out a bit for taking risky moves.”

“Yeah, well you got the best of it then. Mandel got chewed out for a full ten minutes about writing the date on his documents incorrectly.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to see if Rose is okay,” Zelma said, brushing past her. As she continued onto her room, she thought about her interactions with Captain Levi. Nothing about him seemed like he’d do that to a person. When she first started, she screwed up about ten pages of reports but rather than scream at her, he had spent the whole night helping her fix them.

“What’s this?” a deep voice rang through the nearly empty office. Her head snapped up towards the door, finding easily the most feared man in all of the Survey Corps… scarier than Commander Erwin Smith.

“Uh… hello, sir,” she stuttered out as she tried to covertly cover up the paperwork she had messed up and was trying to redo.

He said nothing as he approached her desk. Before even looking at her piles of paper, he lit the candle on her desk, making her realize just how late it was and how dark it had gotten. He then observed her papers, easily identifying what she tried to cover up. Wordlessly, he pulled up a chair to sit on the side of her desk, grabbing half of her pile. She looked at him perplexed until he finally explained. “I’ll do this half so we finish quicker.”

“Oh… uh… thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he replied, the phrase seeming too casual for Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. “I’ve made these mistakes before.” No he hadn’t. But he wanted to make her feel better.

~

A week later, the Levi Squad was heading out on a mission to reclaim the Scout Regiment’s old headquarters outside Wall Rose. This would be her first time fighting since her cadet class had attempted to retake Shiganshina.

“You ready, brat?” a deep voice asked, coming up behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, finding Captain Levi approaching her.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, standing up straight and turning to face him.

The Captain stopped in front of her, taking a moment to observe her. A slight frown adorned his face as he stepped closer. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the straps wrapped around her thighs. Unable to find her voice, she just nodded. He knelt down, grabbing the strap wrapped around her left leg first. He tugged at it, finding that it was a bit too loose, as well as throwing the wearer off balance. She fell forward, catching herself on Levi’s shoulder. She immediately moved to steady herself but another tug seemed to bring her closer.

Levi kept his face straight as he moved on to her other leg. He enjoyed the closeness of her. Ever since that night they spent filling out her paperwork, just reveling in each other’s company, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He had justified it in his mind as simply admiring her dedication, enabling him to invite her onto his team. And he couldn’t just let his newest member slip out of her ODM gear, right?

Moving on from the straps around her thighs, his hands wandered up to her waist. He was still kneeling before her but now that he was no longer pulling her leg forward, she stood on her own. He kind of missed her gentle yet firm grip on his shoulder. Nevertheless, he tugged at the straps around her waist, finding them perfectly snug. Satisfied, he finally stood, pulling her attention up with him. “You’re all set.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” she said, slight nervousness creeping into her voice. He just gave her a soft smile before heading over to his own horse.

~~

It had been a long two days. The Special Operations Squad had fought long and hard to clear and secure the Survey Corps’ headquarters but they did it without any casualties. Now, locked safely within the walls of the old castle, they celebrated.

“Oh my god, did you see Ral take down that five meter?” Bozado practically shouted in excitement. “Hell, she tripped the thing and still cut it’s nape.” Everyone cheered on Petra as she blushed.

“Did you see the rookie, here?” Jinn caught everyone’s attention as he nudged her shoulder. She blushed as well as everyone looked at her. “How was your first solo kill?”

She smiled, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Not enough,” she declared, eliciting a cheer from everyone. Across the table she caught Levi’s eye, giving her a smirk and nod of approval, the biggest reaction anyone had gotten out of him.

After a while of celebrating, everyone else was drunk with the exception of her and Levi. Needing a moment of quiet, she slipped out of the room, everyone else too drunk to notice. She made her way to the upper floors until she found a balcony in what was probably the commander’s room. Stepping outside, she just took a moment to breathe in the cool air. Fortunately all the titans had dissolved into nothingness, leaving the view almost beautiful. The only damper was the damage the titans had created.

“Mind if I join?” a low voice came from behind her.

Startled, she jumped, relieved when she saw that it was only Levi. “Oh, you scared me, Captain.”

“Did I?” he said, coming to stand next to her. “Didn’t take you as one to be scared easily. You did just stare down the jaws of a titan today.”

She shrugged, the blush returning to her cheeks. “Yeah well, I’d sooner face a titan than the infamous Captain Levi.”

He chuckled. “You did good,” he praised.

“Thank you, sir. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Your record speaks for itself,” he dismissed.

Turning to face the outside world again, a sudden breeze caught her, sending a chill down her spine. Noticing her movement, Levi unclasped the cloak from around his shoulders before placing it around his newest soldier. “Oh thank you sir but-” He waved his hand, dismissing her before going back to looking over the castle’s grounds, sipping on his tea. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find the words. Clenching her jaw, she pondered all of his actions. Taking a deep swig of the whiskey Jinn had brought, she worked up the courage to speak. “Why do you treat me so well?”

Levi’s blood went cold. It was the question he dreaded and the opening he craved but still never hoped would come. Choosing to deflect, he spoke casually. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I treat everyone the same.”

“Sir, with all due respect, no you don’t,” she countered sheepishly. “When others in my class screwed up they were punished, you helped me. You invited me to your squad even though I wasn’t first in my cadet class. You don’t even really interact socially with your squad but you’re out here with me.”

Levi sighed, considering his next words. She had him pinned on this. “You… I…” he took a breath. “You impress me,” was all he said. “More than anyone ever has.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she pressed further.

Levi groaned internally as she kept pushing. Unable to say the words, he decided to show her. Resting his cup on the thick railing of the balcony, he stepped right next to her, grasping her face softly. Her doe like eyes stared up at him innocently until they fluttered closed as Levi leant down, connecting their lips. She parted her lips, granting him access to her mouth, which he took eagerly. His hands fell to her hips, pulling her in eagerly which she took as an invitation to reach for his coat. He helped her shed the clothing before he worked to unbutton his own shirt, still kissing her. Once it was off, he returned his hands to her hips, pushing her into the room and onto the bed. In a flurry of lips and clothes, Levi had her naked underneath him. Pausing for a moment, he pulled away just to observe her. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed before returning his lips to hers.

~~

Laying in the bed that had been prepared for him earlier that day, Levi stroked his newest squad-member’s hair. Her bare skin bathed in the moonlight as she slept peacefully on his chest. He couldn’t help but smile into the top of her head, feeling like a giddy teenager. He couldn’t believe he had finally found the girl of his dreams. In the Underground he had had no time for and therefore no consideration of love. He knew he’d have to keep her a well-guarded secret. Sometimes there were bigger threats than titans.

Continuing to enjoy the weight on his chest and the feeling of her soft hair running through his fingers, Levi stared out into the night. He could get used to this. One day they’d have to kill all the titans, right? Then they could get a nice little house out here in the country. Where it could just be the two of them.

Checking the clock that had been wound to the correct time, he could see that the sun would be rising soon. He hadn’t slept at all but that wasn’t out of the ordinary and he didn’t mind. He had more important things to think about than sleep. A small, irrational part of him worried that someone or something would come snatch her from him in the night right as he finally had her. But for the sake of keeping his reputation, he reluctantly slipped out of bed, gently replacing his chest with a pillow so as to disturb her as little as possible.

~

Given that the balcony doors had been left open, the object of Levi’s affection woke with the sun. With a gentle stretch, she soaked the sun in for a moment, inhaling the scent of her commander on the sheets. Despite wanting to lie in bed all day, she’d much rather avoid someone bursting in and asking her why she was in Levi’s bed so she got up reluctantly. Looking for her clothes, which had been shed on the balcony, she found them folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Smiling to herself, she put them on and fixed her hair before heading down to the kitchen.

Upon entering, she found all of her teammates grabbing food from the counter before sitting at the wooden table in the center. They all grumbled good mornings to her as they served themselves and sat. Still standing in the doorway, she saw her captain standing at the stove in an apron. “More pancakes are coming,” he announced.

There was a quiet cheer from the rest of the team as they were already digging through what had already been made. Sitting down, she helped herself to some of the fruit on the table before a plate full of pancakes appeared in front of her. She looked up, finding Levi sitting down beside her at the head of the table with another plate for himself. She just sent him a smile and said a quiet thanks as she dug in.

Meanwhile the rest of the team stared at the pair in shock. Seeing them first, Levi sent them a glare. “What? She hadn’t gotten a plate. Feed yourselves,” he barked before returning his attention to the woman sitting beside him.

Masterlist

#levi #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #x reader

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 

Steve nodded. 

He too was still in disbelief. 

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 

“Huh? Who jumped first?” 

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 

You were the first to jump. 

You were the one to go after him first. 

You wanted to save him. 

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 

But he had never seen you like this before. 

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 

How did you feel last night? 

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 

You hesitate. 

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 

You carry guilt, just like he does. 

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words. 

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 

Polaroid Pictures. 

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 

“Had?”

You nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 

Oh no. 

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 

“I let some see.” 

Right. Some. 

He nods and looks away. 

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 

You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 

Were you and Billy dating? 

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 

“Are we.. good?” 

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 

Oh. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding. 

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 

You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them. 

You won’t have to live without them. 

They will be more than just a short time. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

[disneyprincemuke]

forever wouldn't wait for us * fem!driver

logan's moving out

pairings: 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: hi please give this attention im not even kidding how difficult it was to write this like i'm actually kinda sad

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

liam scowls, throwing his head back. he points his hand towards logan, sat on the couch, fiddling with a rubix cube he’d found underneath the couch. “you’re not even helping!”

“i didn’t know kidnapper took my rubix cube,” logan mutters.

the girl passes him, walking between the couch and the coffee table, snatching away the rubix cube from his hands. “you don’t even know how to play with a rubix cube,” she mutters, “and this is mine.”

logan huffs, rolling his eyes and throws his arms into the air. “you never let me have anything.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “you moved into my furnished apartment at the start of last year.”

“there’s gotta be something in the living room that’s mine,” logan frowns, looking around for something to take with him.

“what time are we drinking?” oscar throws his head back, looking over from the dining table. on the table is a set of uno cards messily strewn in different directions. on his right is lily and to his left is ylona with a small grin. “you guys are taking too long.”

“we wouldn’t be taking so long if everyone helped like they promised,” she huffs underneath her breath with a small eye roll. “anyway, logan’s still trying out being a thief right in front of my eyes.”

“babe,” ylona snorts, “don’t steal from rocky.”

mick walks out of logan’s room, a box of neatly folded clothes inside. he drops it right by the kitchen where the rest of logan’s boxes rest, stacked above one another. “logan loves stealing from rocky.”

“i do not!” logan defends himself. “wait, whatever. i’m just saying — there has to be something that’s mine in the living room. there’s no way that i was leeching off rocky the entire year and a half we stayed together.”

“you probably have more things in her parents’ home rather than here,” oscar points out, playing a card on the table. “hurry it up. i’m hungry and thirsty.”

she hadn’t expected logan to move out so soon. while she knew that living with logan for the rest of her life isn’t a viable arrangement, she hadn’t expected him to decide to pack up and live with his girlfriend while being together for less than a year.

he had told her about a month ago, at the start of september that he’d be moving in with ylona. not too far away, just an apartment down the road. but it still feels like a part’s of her being torn from her — the same way she felt when oscar had moved out of her parents’ when he landed a reserve driver spot with alpine.

she didn’t expect the 3 of them to live together for the rest of time, but it’s just weird to spend growing up every single day with them for years to end up barely talking sometimes outside of race weekends.

“rocky, what do you think?”

she maintains her blank stare on kidnapper, sleeping under the coffee table with a hum. “think of what?”

“let’s head out for dinner as a quick pick-me-up,” mick grins slightly, “and then we drop by the store to get drinks then we continue packing. when we’re done with that, we drink! how’s that sound?”

she lifts her head with a small grin. “yeah, absolutely.”

the uneasy feeling in her chest never leaves the entire evening. from the moment they’d all spilled out of the apartment to grab dinner, asking each other where they should eat to the moment they were stumbling back in to pack what’s left of logan’s clothes.

she sits in the living room now in silence, playing with kidnapper with one of the toys she’d gotten him in a dim corner. everyone else is in logan’s room, helping fold and pack what mick hadn’t gotten in boxes earlier.

“hey, are you okay? you’ve been here since we came home from dinner.” she glances over her shoulder, a small grin spreading her lips at the man now taking a seat next to her on the ground by the cat tree. “i’m surprised you haven’t started crying yet. remember when i moved out of your parents’?”

she throws her head back with a soft groan and an eye roll. “that seems like forever ago.”

“it was,” oscar laughs, leaning back against the wall as kidnapper curiously climbs on his lap. “how do you feel now that you’ll be living alone?”

“not sure,” she shrugs, dropping her head with a soft chuckle. “i like living with logan, you know? everyday was a party.”

“living by yourself can still be party, you know,” he points out and rests his head on the wall behind him. “you knew we weren’t going to be around forever.”

she presses her lips together as she tries to navigate the lines in her head and pinpoint why she’s always so upset when either of them move out. perhaps she feels left behind once more?

sure, that lingering feeling of jealousy arose occasionally when they were younger, always progressing with their racing careers without her at times. but there’s no reason to feel this way at 21 when they’re all at the same stages of life.

“i mean… before logan asked if he could move in with me, i was prepared to be live by myself. but you know,” she trails off as she lifts her head with trembling lips. “that was a year and a half ago.”

“aw, mate,” oscar coos, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on her knee. “i know he sprung this on you a little too soon. but you’ll be fine, you know?”

“i know,” she grins, craning her neck back to sigh at oscar. “i’m going to let him take stubby with him. i know the bond they’ve formed, you know? i’m going to miss that dog.”

“you know you don’t have to. you adopted stubby.”

“just seems cruel to keep stubby when he very clearly prefers logan over me.” she takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “we should help them out so we can drink with them, right?”

oscar glances down at the black cat that’s settled in his lap. “i can’t get up — kidnapper’s on my lap. it’s your turn now.”

she rolls her eyes but still slowly gets up from her spot. “i will be back for my cat, oscar piastri.”

“i know it was sudden when i told you i was planning to move out,” logan mutters, lifting his head to look at the girl in the single seater couch across the room. “i’m sorry.”

the girl looks up from her phone, her screen illuminating her face with a small grin and flushed cheeks from the drinks they’d consumed. the empty glass bottles riddle the floor of their — no, her — living room. “we can’t be roommates forever. it’s okay.”

around them are liam and mick, passed out in their individual spots with pillows and blankets strewn over their bodies. oscar and lily are coddled up in her bed and logan’s got ylona’s head in his lap as she lies on the couch with stubby in her arms.

“i’m sorry i didn’t even ask you what you thought about it at first,” he admits. “you let me move into your apartment then i just spring my decision to move out 3 weeks ahead of time. i’m sorry, rocky.”

“it’s okay, really. like–”

“dude.” the firmness in her voice makes her drop her phone into her stomach. she sits upright with a small grin on her face and a heavy sigh. “i’m sorry. 2024 hasn’t been great for our friendship.”

she laughs softly, dropping her back against her seat. “are you talking about the crash? that was months ago, mate. i totally overreacted. so much for ‘whatever happens on the track, stays on the track’. i’m sorry.”

but meeting his eyes across the room, her smile fades when she notices that he’s not smiling or giggling along with her. “you know what i’m apologising for.”

tears flood her eyes and she forces herself to look away to wipe them away. “mate. it’s been 9 months.”

“stop brushing it off,” logan whispers, shaking his head. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my best friend — you know that, right? nothing’s changing. i’m just 2 blocks down the road; call me if you need me.”

she smiles, hanging her head as she turns to look at him. “likewise. take stubby with you, by the way. he seems to be very fond of you and ylona, anyway.”

“what? no, that’s crazy. stubby is your dog.”

she shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop him from talking. and she knows that he knows what that means — there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. “take him. he’ll be happier with you guys.”

logan’s stare lingers on her, smiling back before she picks up her phone from her stomach. “you should bring ylona to your bed. the couch is uncomfortable, mate.”

logan grins. “okay. do you want to share the bed with her? i know oscar and lily’s fallen asleep in yours. i can sleep out here if you want.”

she shakes her head, following his gaze as he carefully manoeuvres ylona to guide her back to his room. “i’ll be okay. you don’t have to look out for me so much anymore, mate. i’m a big girl.”

“everything’s in the car,” oscar calls out from down the hall, popping his head from the corner that leads to their life lobby. “need a minute?”

“i’ll be down in a second,” logan answers, looking over his shoulder as oscar nods firmly and disappears into the corner. he lets out a shaky breath before he turns back to the small girl standing by the door, handle in her hands as she leans against the door frame. “i’m going to miss living with you.”

she smiles, another tear falling right out of her eye. “i’m going to miss you too. it’s okay that we’re like this, right? we’ve lived together for almost a decade — it’s weird not waking up to your breakfast.”

“don’t skip breakfast, okay?” he presses his lips together. “take care of yourself, dude.”

she laughs her sob out, more tears starting to roll down her cheeks. she sighs, palms over her face as she shies her emotions away. “this is so stupid. i’m literally coming over to help you move in in an hour. i just need to take a shower and feed kidnapper some breakfast.”

logan snorts, throwing his head back, tears slowly leaving his eyes. “10 years is a long time to be living together. we’re still best friends even if we’re not living together. we’ve made it work with oscar, haven’t we?”

“obviously,” she mutters. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

“okay,” logan grins. he leans down, wrapping both arms around her smaller frame and tightens his grip. “i’m sorry again for how things turned out. you’ll always be my best friend, you know that, right?”

she stumbles into him, tiptoeing as she tries to keep her feet on the ground as he squeezes her and lifts her off the ground slightly. “i know. you’ll always be my bestest friend in the entire world, lo. forever wasn’t going to wait for us.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-pie-girl @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #liam lawson x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

[wlntrsldler]

i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace

fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

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fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 

“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 

oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 

he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 

luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 

“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 

luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 

luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 

annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 

“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 

“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 

the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 

“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 

you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 

you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 

you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 

the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 

“hey!” 

you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 

“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 

luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 

you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 

oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 

as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 

annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 

luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 

luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 

there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 

luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.

luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 

with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 

he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 

“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 

mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”

“yeah, they’re cute.” 

you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 

“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 

“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”

luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.

he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 

“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 

luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 

luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 

“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 

luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 

as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 

“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”

“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 

“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 

a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 

luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 

your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 

pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 

you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 

as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.

you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 

luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 

“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 

“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 

“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 

your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 

the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 

luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 

you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 

“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”

“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 

maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 

luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 

not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 

“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 

he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 

he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.

#frances writes #frances song fics #state of grace #luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

[mandarinmoons]

Could I please request for Spencer where reader is in the bau and her and Spencer aren’t exactly friends but they keep it professional but sassy and one night after a case he comforts her because he secretly likes her ? Tysm ❤️

There’s never a dull moment when working at the BAU, whether it be a psychopathic killer or an evening with the team where everyone could let loose with a glass of wine.

You liked to have your fun, but you were determined to keep things professional with everyone. However, one of your coworkers managed to get closer to you than the others and you had your, dare you say, “unprofessional” moments with him.

Both of your bodies allerted you around the same time when coffee was needed and that was when the majority of the quips between you two took place.

“Half a bottle of sugar again, Reid?”

You watched Spencer pour in the needed amount of sugar into his coffee and noticed a small grin form on his lips.

“I think you should know by now how I take it.”

“Yeah, all sugar and no caffeine at this point.”

The banter between you two kept on going as time went on and you felt your poker face disappear every time he walked into the room, the way you wanted to be perceived by your peers was not going to last, especially after one night.

The team left the office one by one as the workday ended. You were still sitting at your desk, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. The case that was just finished didn’t go as well as planned and it left everyone’s mood sour, especially yours. You were the one who tried to talk the unsub into letting the hostage go, you were so close and yet you failed. You were questioning your abilities and if you should even continue, the guilt was too much to bear.

As you leaned your head back and closed your eyes to rest you heard someone walk up behind you.

“Are you okay?”

You sat up and looked behind you, seeing Spencer look down on you with sad eyes.

“I um, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Spencer sat down on the chair next to you and eyed you up and down, your back slouched against the chair and your head hanging down, biting your lip and eyes still staring down at the papers in front of you.

“You did your best out there.”

You looked up at Spencer and saw his eyes staring back at you, the brown of his eyes having a comforting quality to them.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Spencer looked down at his hands and gulped before continuing, “I know how you feel. There have been times where I think I could’ve done better, acted better, because maybe then they’d still be alive.”

You nodded and looked down at the picked skin along your nails, a bad habit that came out during stressful times.

“But… you can’t let that stop you from doing what you do. Think of all the lives you’re going to save in the future, they need you, we need you.”

It was as if Spencer was reading your mind and knew all of the thoughts going on in your head. You knew that you couldn’t let yourself get too out of hand with your feelings because more people needed you, but you just couldn’t shake it. Hearing it coming from Spencer though felt reassuring, you had no idea how his words managed to be so comforting for you, but you were grateful.

“I need you guys too,” seeing a hint of a smile play on your lips made Spencer break out in a smile as well.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, “Do you, uh, do you want me to help you finish your paperwork?”

“That would be nice of you,” you scooted to the side with your chair and passed a few papers over to Spencer and handed him a pen. Your fingers touched slightly as he took the pen from your grasp and from the corner of your eye you saw his cheeks form a reddish hue.

The rest of the hour was spent more on joking than actually working. Eventually the paperwork was finished and Spencer being the gentleman that he is, helped you into your coat and held the door for you when walking out of the bullpen.

When reaching the parking lot and walking towards your cars, you stopped and faced Spencer.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome but it’s not needed.”

“Yes it is. I would’ve driven myself insane if you hadn’t stepped in and calmed me down.”

Spencer chuckled and looked down, your words were clearly getting to him and making him nervous.

A moment later you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Spencer froze at first but pulled you in closer and rested his chin on your head, you couldn’t remember the last time a hug felt so comforting.

The two of you stayed in the position for a good minute until you pulled back and looked into Spencer’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of-”

“It’s okay, I liked it.”

You two were left staring at each other in the parking lot for what felt like an eternity until someone walked past the both of you and heard them unlocking their car.

“I should go now, thanks again Spence.”

Spencer nodded and walked over to his car, thinking of the nickname you had just called him, meanwhile you melted into the driver's seat of your car, taking in the moment you just had with your coworker. Was he just a coworker? No, he was your friend, and to Spencer you were something more than a friend.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs

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#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid x gn! reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[emssturniolo]

delicate

pairing: matthew sturniolo x reader

summary: your soft spoken tone doesn’t let you make new friends, but matt is who you only really need

warnings: use of yn, and names such as baby ;)

a/n: very rare emssturniolo matt fan fic ! whaaat ?!??

happy reading :)

you and matt were currently at a party with his brothers. it was a party of some influencer who you didn’t really know, and had never spoken to

but you didn’t want to ruin the night for matt, who seemed to be excited to go to this party with his brothers and friends, so you promised yourself, for his sake, to try and make some new friends to talk to while you’re there

you went in confident and ready, to just tell your anxiety to fuck off and get out of your (very comfortable) comfort zone. yet, every time that you tried to talk to some girl that seemed remotely interesting to you, they would give you one of three main responses: make a weird face and shrug you off, try to talk to you and end up leaving, or just straight up insulting you - see there was a small problem with you and parties; you were too soft spoken to be heard in places with loud music and a lot of talking. so every time you tried to talk to someone, they wouldn’t be able to hear you and they’d either just leave or tell you to speak up, which was quite literally impossible for you to do, since your voice just didn’t go any higher than the slight next step from a whisper

yet you were determined. you didn’t want to cling onto matt, you wanted him to have fun and have some alone time with his friends, away from you. the last thing you needed was for him to think you’re too clingy. so you tried again, for the third time, to talk to a girl. this time, you spotted a girl sitting alone on the couch in the living room of the house the party was being held in. she was just on her phone when you sat next to her, and said “hey, you wanna talk?” and she diverted her attention away from her phone and looked at you with a smile. this was going well,,, surprisingly. “yeah sure! what’s your name?” she asked, “mine’s jenna.”, you smiled, “i love that name! i’m yn!” - jenna looked confused for a second before asking you, “sorry, what was that?”. she hadn’t heard you. “i said i love that name, i’m yn!” you tried again, raising your voice a bit higher, or as much as you could. “i can’t hear you! look, if you’re not gonna speak up i don’t think we can talk!”, jenna scoffed, and got up and left

tears brimmed at your eyes. you knew you weren’t speaking loud, but there was no reason for people to be so mean about it - so you gave in, and went to find matt. you needed him urgently, just a hug would be enough, but you couldn’t find him. you were growing more anxious by the second, so you quickly shot matt a text

matt<3

hey where are you?

i’m on the balcony

why what’s wrong?

can we meet ? like outside ?

yeah sure :)

and with that, you found matt outside the door of the house. the second you came close enough, you hugged him tightly. light tears ran down your warm cheeks, and as soon as matt realized, he pulled back, his hold still on you - gentle, but firm. “what’s up, my love? what’s wrong?” he spoke gently, just to match your delicate state. “nothing, just tried to talk to some people to let you have fun, but they always gave me weird looks or responses when i talked low.” you lightly let out a breath. he hugged you again, his delicate hands sinking into your skin, you above your hips - to let you know he’s there

“baby, look at me. you know i love everything about you, but trust me, that soft, gentle, beautiful, sweet, delicate tone of your voice is on my ‘top three things i love about yn’ list. promise.” and with that, he stuck out his pinky finger, which was immediately interlocked with yours, a kiss planted on each other’s fingers, and another one right after, planted on each other’s lips

“i love you, my sweet girl.” he said, sincerely. and you could tell, just by the stars in his eyes which show up anytime he talks about something he’s passionate about,,,

or talking about you

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #emssturniolo !

[midnightsxblue]

VIRGINITY (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl ask for some advice.)

tags: mentions of sex, mentions of loss of virginity, the talk

masterlist here!

read part two!!!

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

You think about sex all the time. It sounds wrong but it’s true, you’re a teenager, it’s on your mind. You often wonder truly what it’s like. What it feels like, why people rave about it so much, why it’s such a huge part of who people are. It always confused you but you were curious. You’ve seen movies before, the classic make out between two people that would cut to them naked with the sheets covering their top half.

You wanted to know if it was like it was in the movies. That’s why, after a while of you and Carl dating, you’d come to the realization that you would soon lose your virginity. As weird as it sounds, the two of you were constantly worked up. Maybe it was the fact you loved each other so much or maybe because you lived in a world where you could die any second. You were genuinely worried to die a virgin.

Anyway, the both of you had countless make out sessions where you both pawed at each other to no end that you believed would finally end up with him inside of you. Every time you were interrupted. It was never the right time, there was just simply too much going on whenever you two tried. There was always someone in the house, God knows how much Rick hates to knock. You guys always had to watch over the baby and you couldn’t leave her unattended because her naps never lasted long.

You talked about it and you’d actually planned on trying the next time Rick and Michonne were out of the house for a while, as long as you were up for it. You’d have Olivia watch Judith, you’ll figure out some lie to tell her.

When Rick mentioned a supply run that they’d be gone for, you two gave each other a look but acted like everything is normal. Inside, you were excited to have a couple days to yourself. But then it hit you.

You’ve never had sex, how are you meant to know what you’re doing? There was nothing you could look at to give you a clue as to how everything worked. Carl didn’t have a clue either, so he went to the one guy knew to ask. You went to the one girl you knew to ask as well.

“Hey, Glenn?” Carl approaches him while he was working on a car near the gates of Alexandria. He didn’t want you to know you were asking how to have sex, he much rather you assume he knew what he was doing and let him handle it. Glenn looked up from the car and wiped his forehead of the sweat. “Hey.” He responds, looking between Carl and the car.

“I sort of need some advice…if you’re able to help.” His tone is embarrassing, he’s obviously gotten the talk but he was never told what exactly to do. “Uh yeah I have some time.” Glenn places the tool in his hand down on the floor, standing up to wipe his hands off. “What’s up?”

Carl looks at him hesitantly but knows he has to do this. “So um…I know like…what sex is but, i was wondering if you could tell me a bit more how it um..how it works?” He rambles, watching Glenn’s eyes go wide at his words. “Uhhhh….” Glenn thinks for a moment, the moment getting increasingly awkward as he stalled. “Well, use protection.” He swallows hard, trying a tone of voice to make the situation less weird. Carl makes an odd face at him, sort of cringing. “W-well do you need one- a condom? Like is that why you’re…” Glenn’s voice trails off when he realizes that Carl is actually asking so he can act on his advice.

Carl looks at him and nods, hesitating to answer. “Yeah.” He responds, his hands fiddling with the hem of his flannel. Glenn stares at him, somewhat uncomfortable. He pats his pants feeling around his pockets and he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a condom, a strip falling from the singular one he meant to take from his pocket. He rips one off quickly, shoving the rest back into his pants frantically. “Just take it.” He sticks it out and Carl takes it and shoves it into his own pocket. “Why do you just have these on hand?” Carl asks, sort of in a disturbed tone.

“Well I- forget it just…” He takes a step back and looks back to the car. He can’t look at Carl but he takes a breath to prepare to give better advice. He continues. “Look, just communicate with her, I think that’s the most important thing okay? You’ll know what you’re doing in the moment.”

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

“They never know where to put it so you’re gonna have to show ‘em.” Maggie tells you handing you a glass of water while you’re sat on her couch. She was very open about this which made you feel more comfortable. She settles into the couch next to you and looks at you intently. “You just gotta know that it’s what you want in the moment. You understand?” She has a light but serious tone.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just scared it’s gonna hurt or something.” You giggle awkwardly. “Well it might, if you bleed that’s normal too.” You squirm a tad at her words. “But you might not. It shouldn’t hurt after you get used to it. Just have him wait while you adjust to the feeling.” She gives you a content smile.

“Okay, I really appreciate this I wasn’t sure who else to go to…” You take a sip of your water and she nods. “If you ever need anything I’m here. Just…don’t get pregnant. That’s another thing, wait till you have condoms. And don’t forget to pee after.” She adds.

You thank Maggie and she decides to walk you out. You look for Carl and Glenn to meet up before dinner. You head towards the gates to see them talking which you find sort of ironic, you had no idea he was asking for advice like you were. He notices you and waves bye to Glenn before walking over to you, Maggie walking over to her husband. Sort of like a trade off.

“Don’t tell your dad I gave you that!” Glenn shouts. Carl gives him some sort of confirmation and returns his attention back to you.

“What’s that about?” You question.

“It’s nothing.”

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

a/n: IMPORTANT NOTICE: I ADDED TO MY RULES THAT I PRIORITIZE REQUEST COMPLETION ON HOW DETAILED THE REQUEST IS SO TAKE NOTE OF THAT :)

anyway the next part will be banger. trust. ANYWAY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTT :> thank u anon for requesting!!! next part comes out maybe this weekend!!! i’ve got some school stuff popping this week sooo it’ll take a little to come out, also it’s smut and i’ve never written that before SO IT MIGHT TAKE ME A LIL

tags: @zomb-1-egutzz

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes angst #the walking dead carl #twd carl #carl grimes smut

[alessiasfreckles]

Puppy Love

You and Leah get a puppy!

warnings: none!

A/N: based off of @onasfreckles request! wanted to write something about Leah so here it is, short and sweet x

------

“Oh my god, baby, he’s perfect!” Leah gushed.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that about a man,” you teased, but you had to agree. 

“He’s not a man, he’s just a little baby!” she said, picking him up and turning to look at you. You melted at the sight of your girlfriend holding the Golden Retriever puppy. “Look at his eyes! Baby, please can we get him? Please?”

“Why else do you think we’re here?” she smiled, and she let out a gasp.

“You said we were just looking!” 

“I lied. Come on, you don’t really think I would make you look at all these adorable puppies and then just leave, did you?” you said with a laugh, and she turned back to look at the puppy with adoration in her eyes. 

“You’re coming home with us, yes you are, we’re your new mummies,” she said in a baby voice, and you couldn’t help but smile.

You’d known Leah wanted a dog for a while, but she didn’t want to get one by herself because she didn’t think it would be fair to the dog if she had to leave for days at a time for camp or away games. As you weren’t a footballer, however, you would be home when she was at camp, and your family lived close by enough to look after a dog if you travelled with her. So you figured now was the perfect time. 

“Is he really ours?” Leah asked you again, looking up at you. 

“Really,” you said, kneeling down next to where she was sat on the floor. 

Tears were brimming in her eyes when she kissed you. “Thank you.”

“You big softie,” you teased, and she nodded, giggling. 

“Oh my god, what are we going to name him?” she asked. 

“Well, we have the whole drive home to figure it out. Unless you have any ideas already?”

“Hmm…” she trailed off, looking at him thoughtfully. “Peanut. I think he looks like a Peanut.”

The puppy cocked his head when she said the name, and jumped up the second time she said it.

“Peanut it is, then,” you said with a laugh, and Peanut let out a small woof. 

When you got home, Leah carried Peanut in through the front door, carefully setting him down. 

“Okay Peanut, this is your new home!” she said gently, then turned to you with wide eyes. “Wait, babe, we don’t have anything for him! We don’t have a bed, or a bowl, or puppy pads, or -”

“Woah, relax,” you told her, and opened the door to the storage closet under the stairs, the one she refused to go in because she claimed it was full of spiders. Over the past few weeks you’d gotten all the essentials for a puppy and had hidden them, knowing they’d be safe from her there. “I have everything we need right here.”

Once again, tears welled up in your girlfriend’s eyes. This time they spilled over, and she quickly tried to wipe them away.

“You okay?” you asked gently, getting the feeling that these were good tears rather than bad ones.

“I’m just, just, so happy!” she said through sniffles. “I love you so much, thank you.”

“I love you,” you said, hugging her tightly, when the two of you felt a cold damp nose nudging at your calves. 

You broke apart, laughing, to see Peanut looking up at you with his big brown eyes. He cocked his head, then licked Leah’s ankle. 

“I think he might be hungry,” she said between giggles. 

After you got him sorted with food and water, and had put out some puppy pads and his new bed, you let him explore the house. The two of you gushed over pretty much everything the puppy did, but your favourite thing was when she trotted over to Leah, who was sat cross legged on the floor, and flopped in her lap, tired from all the excitement.

She stroked his head gently, watching his eyes droop, looking like he was trying not to fall asleep. The way she looked at him, with so much tenderness and adoration, made your heart feel so full of love that it could burst.

“I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” you told her, and she looked up at you.

“Yeah?” she asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You’d never felt more sure of anything in your life. You leant over to kiss her, careful not to wake Peanut, who had given in to his sleepiness. 

“Want to tell the girls about him?” you asked a few minutes later, and she nodded eagerly.

“I have a great idea for how we can tell them,” she said with a grin. She got out her phone and started filming, holding it so that Peanut couldn’t be seen. “Hey guys, y/n and I have some big news. We’ve decided it’s time for us to take the next step in our relationship, and start expanding our family! So, without further ado, there’s someone we’d like to introduce you all to,” she panned the camera down to Peanut, who was still sleeping peacefully in her lap. “Everyone, meet the newest member of our family: Peanut!”

She stopped recording and quickly sent the video into the group chats your friends were in. The replies started flooding in immediately, ranging from messages in full caps from people saying they thought you were going to say that you were pregnant, to people offering to puppy-sit whenever you need it. 

“I don’t think Peanut is going to have to worry about being loved, do you?” you said with a smile.

“He has no idea how many people already love him,” Leah whispered softly. “You have so many aunties who can’t wait to meet you!”

----

Later that evening, you were sat on the sofa together, Peanut fast asleep in his new bed. You watched his small body rise and fall with his breathing, and grinned when his little legs kicked out in his sleep.

“What do you think he’s dreaming about?” you said softly to Leah.

“Running around in a big field, full of flowers,” she said dreamily, and you nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of her head with a smile.

#woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #leah williamson fluff #woso fluff #woso community #hannah writes fics

[greatstormcat]

Club 141 AU

Poly 141 x f!reader

Part 2

Series Masterlist

As mentioned in Part 1 proper vetting of new partners is essential for everyone. This is a work of fiction and liberties are being taken for the narrative. This part explores the wonderful caring and nurturing aspect of BDSM that people often ignore, don’t understand or say isn’t needed. If someone tells you they don’t do aftercare, run.

TW: MDNI 18+, BDSM themes and discussion, mild sexual themes, subspace, aftercare, rather fluffy

It’s Kyle that drives you home from Club 141, bundled into the passenger seat of his car that smells of leather and expensive cologne, still floating inside your own skull after that amazing encounter. Sure, you hurt like hell in a few places, but you’ve never felt this… free.

“You still with me, love?” Kyle asks with a clear note of smugness in his voice. One hand reaches over and squeezes your thigh in a slightly possessive gesture and you sigh happily.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you reply dreamily. “Never felt so good actually.” This earns you a deep hum of approval, almost a growl from the gorgeous man beside you and his full lips quirk in a smile.

“Glad to hear it, you did really well back there,” he tells you, and a tingle of excitement skitters across your skin. He soon gets you back to your place, and insists on helping you inside, taking your keys from your still trembling fingers to open the door.

He looks around the inside of your humble little terraced house, he makes it seem so much smaller than usual and you try to imagine where someone like him would live.

“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” He says as you shuffle in and close the door, and he glances up the stairs. “You got a bath up there?”

His question takes you by surprise and you manage a confused nod before he takes your arm and guides you up the stairs to your bathroom. He puts the lid down on the toilet and plonks you onto it, and starts running you a bath as you watch.

“Um… what exactly is going on here?” You ask, and get a shake of his head in response.

“Aftercare, love. We just fucked you up, and now one of us gets to look after you and make sure your okay,” he says, and moves to stand in front of you, cupping the sides of your face with his warm palms as you look up at him. “And I’m the lucky one that gets to do it.” Before you had left the club with him they’d given you an energy bar to eat and a sweet, cold drink. This seemed above and beyond, but they refused to let you leave without finishing them.

Gaz gets you up when he is happy with the depth and temperature of the water and helps you strip, casting an eye over your skin and noting the marks left by the flogger and shackles, not to mention the bruises on your hips caused by fingertips.

He bats your hands away gently when you try to wash yourself, and you give in easily, letting him cleanse your skin and then massage the tender muscles in your shoulders. By the time he coaxes you out of the tub you are a soft and content blob in his hands, smiling happily while getting dried, moisturised and tucked into bed. When he turns off the main light and heads to your bedroom door you feel a sudden twinge of worry.

“Do you have to go?” You ask him hopefully, and you hold your breath when you see him pause briefly, clearly considering your question when he turns back to you. The soft light from your bedside lamp paints his face in warm tones and shadows, causing your stomach to flutter at his beauty.

“I suppose I could stay tonight, but just to keep an eye on you,” he replies with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth again. He pulls out his phone, sending a text. “If you want me to stay, that is,” he says. His phone pings and he checks the screen, a deep and sonorous chuckle rolls from his chest and he turns the phone screen for you to read. It’s a text message from Price: Fine but do not fuck her!

“Looks like the Captain is staking his claim already.”

You watch from the bed, transfixed as he removes his shirt and hangs it carefully over the back of the chair by your dressing table, then slips off his shoes and removes his trousers. He’s standing there, tall, lean and well muscled in just his boxers then, looking like Adonis himself. Your face heats as you realize just a few hours ago he was balls deep in you, pumping you full of his spend.

“Why do you call him Captain?” you ask, hoping to distract yourself from the intense embarrassment you’re feeling.

“Ah, we served together. Price, Ghost, Johnny and me. We were all in the same team and Price was our Captain. It's just kinda stuck,” he explains as he slips into the bed beside you, and puts one arm under the pillow behind your head. He brazenly pulls you against him, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his pec as he holds you close.

“Get some sleep now, you need to recover,” he tells you firmly, and switches off the lamp by the bed.

“G’night,” you mumble, curling into his side happily.

It’s Johnny that picks you up the next evening after you’d had a call from Ghost inviting you back. You’d eagerly accepted and spent ages deciding what to wear. Johnny arrived on time, dressed for work in a crisp white shirt but with a soft leather jacket hanging from his broad shoulders when you open the front door. He gives you an obvious look up and down, his mouth twitched into a lopsided smile as he nods.

“Lookin’ good again, hen,” he tells you, making heat rush to your face as well as somewhere lower. He offers you his arm and walks you to the car, settling you into your seat before closing your door and getting into the driver's seat.

“You feeling okay today?” He asks lightly as he drives you both to the club.

“A little sore, obviously, but absolutely amazing,” you tell him with a small laugh.

“I bet, you took it all like a champ last night,” he says, then fishes something out of the chest pocket of his jacket, handing it to you.

“Price told me to give you this,” he says, and you take the small golden card from his fingers to examine it. It’s a VIP card for the club with your name embossed onto it. It glitters in the passing streetlights.

“Wow, thanks,” you breathe. You soon arrive at the club and Johnny bypasses the queue, the bouncer nodding to you both as you enter.

Price and Ghost are waiting upstairs in the VIP section again, and you are ushered right past all the other patrons by Johnny, drawing curious glances at your special escort. You catch sight of Gaz behind the bar, a fresh shirt on his broad frame, and he grins beautifully at you while serving a customer. As you climb the steps you see the two waiting men get up from the cushioned booth they were occupying and move to meeting you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you smile warmly.

Ghost still wears his curious white skull mask over his eyes and nose, wearing a deep red shirt and dark slacks that fit him perfectly. Price wears a perfectly tailored dark blue suit jacket and matching trousers, a white shirt partially unbuttoned beneath the jacket letting his thick chest hair show.

Without a word, Ghost takes your arm and dismisses Johnny with a curt nod, leading you into the private room behind Price. The Captain, you smile as you think of him like this, sits himself into his leather chair, knees spread wide as he rests on his throne. Ghost takes you to the leather sofa opposite and sits you down, his arm stretched across the back behind you and his long legs out in front of him.

“Did Gaz take good care of you last night?” Price asks between puffs on his cigar.

“He did, thank you for letting him stay,” you answer, and Price nods thoughtfully as he looks at you. There’s a heavy pause, you start to wonder if you’re expected to say more but you don’t know what. As you begin to try and think of something to say he carries on.

“So, you want to make this a permanent thing?” He asks, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights under his gaze as he makes no attempt to hide his hunger, but you manage a clear nod. “Words, princess,” he chides you, an edge of authority to his tone reminding you exactly what you are offering yourself up for.

“Sorry, I mean… yes,” you answer, finding your voice thanks to your eagerness to please. He smirks, toying with his cigar in his thick fingers.

“Well then,” he grins, and looks up at Ghost briefly, “we have ourselves a sub.”

The masked man beside you chuckles, deep and rumbling in his chest, then gets up heading to one of the cabinets on the wall and opening it, retrieving a black leather collar and handing it to Price. With his cigar held between his teeth he takes the collar and crooks his finger at you once, then points at the spot between his knees. Your head spins as you clearly understand the message.

Moving carefully you slip from the edge of the leather seat onto your knees, then cross the small space on all fours to kneel where he pointed.

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters quietly as he stands behind Price’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly while his eyes burn behind his polished mask.

“Alright, love,” Price warns you, but without any malice in his words. A smile plays on his lips at your little display, and from your vantage point you see the tightening in his trousers. “This is a trial period, to make sure you are comfortable with us, you we are with you. After a few months I will consider a permanent collaring.” The collar hangs in front of your face and you see it has a thick steel ring secured into the leather on a stud, the numbers 141 are embossed into the band. You’d be the property of the four of them wearing this, that thought makes your blood thrum with heat.

You tilt up your chin, accept the collar with pride, your back straight. The black leather is looped around your neck again, a shiver running down your spine as the buckle is fastened. Your mind already takes on that fuzziness around the edges, a slight separation from reality that protects and comforts you as you turn over your self control to the two men before you. Price reaches out a rough hand and cups your cheek, you nuzzle into it.

“Just so you know, there’s nothing rough happening tonight,” Ghost warns you, stepping around the chair and crouching down beside you. “Last night we overstepped, got something different planned for you now. Just want to get you used to us, so come and relax.”

Ghost’s hand tips your chin up to him gently, looking into your eyes and seeing that slightly dazed look as subspace devours your brain, his instructions settling in to your mind easily. He hooks his finger through the ring at the front of your collar and stands, pulling you with him. The two men then leave the private room, tugging you along with them back into the VIP area overlooking the busy club.

Eyes snap to you from those people on the mezzanine when they see you emerge from behind the private door, the collar and Ghost’s grip on you making the situation very clear. The pair sit down and Ghost tugs your collar so you end up sitting between his thick thighs, leaning your shoulder against the hard muscle facing in towards him. His hand rests in your hair, fingers working between the strands and pulling your head so your cheek rests against this leg.

“Stay there now, nice and quiet,” he coos to you, and you rest limply against him. “Good girl,” he praises and your mind unravels even further. You're caged between the legs of one of the biggest, scariest men in the building, protected like the most treasured thing he has ever held. The feeling washes through your brain like warm, sweet honey and you feel like you should be purring. You nuzzle against his warmth, eyes fluttering shut and you hear the soft praises he bestows upon you. You fall into a meditative state, content in your spot as Ghost and Price talk, conduct business and go about their evening.

At some point drinks were brought up with some bar snacks, Ghost taps your lips and tells you to open which you do obediently, eyes half lidded. An olive is placed on your tongue, his fingertips sliding across your bottom lip as he does so, and you eat the food he has given you. He repeats this process a few more times, humming his approval as he watches you with laser focus from behind his mask. His hard cock is held behind the dark fabric of his trousers just a few inches from your face, but he makes no move to do anything about it. Instead, he is focused on his act of care for you.

“C’mon, up here now,” he urges you, and helps you up, legs numb and tingling from being on the floor so long. You wobble a little, brain still fogged in subspace and allow yourself to be pulled into his lap, resting over his thighs now. Price chuckles, taking in your glassy eyes and handing you a drink, Johnny obviously having taken note of what you’d had yesterday.

“Come back now, love,” Price says firmly, watching you take a sip from the glass and blinking your eyes as you resurface from your trance. You feel heat flood your face, a mixture of the alcohol and a little fluster from letting go so easily. The warm leather around your neck sits comfortably and you see people regarding it, and you, hungrily.

“I’m okay,” you grin. Ghost moves his palm up and down your back possessively, meeting the eyes of anyone that dares to look at you and they turn away quickly. His cock presses into your thigh, hard and demanding but he still makes no indication that it’s bothering him. “May I… help you with that?” You say in a hushed tone, and Ghost’s mouth twists in a wry smile.

“No, sweetheart,” he replies just as quietly and leans close to your ear, his chest brushing against your arm. “But know that I’ll be thinking about you later, when I take care of it myself.”

You gasp and clench your thighs at the image this paints in your mind, and you feel rather than hear him chuckle.

“That’s right,” he continues, “later on tonight I’ll be thinking about how your pretty little hole looked stretched out around my cock while I get my rocks off. Just you sit there, being a good, sweet thing for me and Price. But you don’t come tonight, understand?” Your pulse picks up as he whispers this into your ear, and your mouth opens slightly so you can breathe.

“Yes, I understand,” you say breathlessly, and then his words hit you. “Wait, you mean I can’t….?” You leave the question hanging in the air, speaking more loudly now and Price grins.

“Oh you broke the news to her?” He asks Ghost. “That’s right, your orgasms are ours now. You don’t get off without permission from one of us, even on your own. It’s all in the contract, sweetheart. Better read it tonight when Gaz drops you home because nothing is going to happen until you’ve gone through it all. Particularly if you plan on trying anything more extreme with us.” His eyes sparkle as he speaks, clearly he has something in mind.

“Things are about to get… interesting,” Ghost murmured, stroking your back again.

#club141!au #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #gaz cod #cod mw22 #cod modern warfare #ghost call of duty #cod 141 #ghost x f!reader #x f!reader #soap modern warfare #soap call of duty #gaz x female reader #sergeant johnny mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #captain price mw2 #john price x female reader #price x you #gaz x you #soap x you #ghost x you #captain price x you #john mactavish x you #simon ghost x you #john price x you #simon riley x you #poly 141 #poly 141 x reader

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

✧ REQUESTED BY: @slayhyunjin ✧   PAIRING: SKZ X READER ✧   CW: ARGUMENT, CURSING, KISSES, FOOD MENTIONS, TYPICAL GIRL BSF IN LOVE WITH GUY IN RELATIONSHIP (NOT MENTIONED IN ALL), MENTION ANXIETY IN HAN'S, GIRL BSF CALLS READER A GOLD DIGGER IN HAN'S PART, FEM!READER, FAKE TEXTS ✧   WC + SS: 4K + 8 ✧   NOTE: I was too lazy to give a name for the girl bf so... she is referred to as "(name)"

BANG CHAN

      Chan sighed and tossed his phone onto his bed. He knew he really fucked up, but there wasn’t much he could do. They’d gotten into fights before and he knew some space would let them both calm down and think. He didn’t like that he’d been unaware he had let Y/n sizzle in anger for a whole night since he came back to the dorms after leaving his friend.

     He laid back against the bed and thought. He had her gifts all ready to head over. He planned to pick up a bouquet and food on his way over today. But now he didn’t know. He didn’t even know if they had eaten today. 

     He grabbed his phone and ordered her fav over to her place. It was one thing he could do while he waited. He checked social media, text notifications, did some writing; anything to keep busy. He almost jumped out of his chair when his phone notified him of a text message. The one he had been waiting for for who knows how long. The small ‘come over’ text had him running around the room, grabbing everything.  Phone, wallet, keys, shoes, gifts. Double and triple checking he had everything before he left the dorms and headed to her place. Stopping for a few minutes to get her flower.

     Y/n sat, waiting on the couch, finishing up the food he had for her. Ultimately, she knew Chan would never truly mean to forget and ditch her on her birthday. Most of his days would mesh together and he was always busy so she couldn’t really fully blame him. But, she also knew (name) didn’t like her that much. Y/n figured very quickly (name) was that typical girl best friend who had a crush on their guy best friend. Y/n just didn’t want to come off as the jealous girlfriend so she never brought it up to Chan.

     She got pulled out of her thoughts when she heard the door unlock and she knew he was there. She didn’t move from the couch, letting him come to her. Chan locked the door and slid his shoes off and walked into her living room. Y/n just stared at him as she set the takeout on her coffee table. In the back of her head, she thought it was cute he came in with flowers and presents but she was still pissed and she was keeping it up.

     Chan set the flowers and gifts down on the other end of the couch before kneeling down in front of her, putting his arms on either side of her on the cushion. “I’m so sorry baby. I really don’t have any excuse. I should have made sure I had the correct day for your birthday in my phone. I shouldn’t have agreed to go out with her yesterday.”

     “It was her idea to hang out?” Y/n asked

     “Yeah? Why?”

     “Fucking cunt,” Y/n groaned

     “Babe? Talk to me,” Chan grabbed her hips and rubbed small circles into the skin with his thumbs.

     “We don’t get along Chan. As much as I hate to tell you this because she was your friend before we got together, I know she fucking likes you, Chan. If it was her idea then she must’ve fucking known it was my birthday and— fuck I sound like the crazy jealous girlfriend.”

     “Hey, hey. No, you don’t love.” Chan grabbed her face and ran her thumbs under her eyes, catching the tears that threatened to fall, “You saying that made me just realize it. She was very clingy with me yesterday and it did make me uncomfortable. I never meant for any of that to happen yesterday. Will you let me stay here and make it up to you baby?”

     Y/n nodded and watched him let out a breath neither knew he was holding. “You owe me a lot of cuddle and kisses for that shit.” 

     “Gladly,” Chan moved up onto the couch and pulled her into his chest, and kissed all over her face.

LEE KNOW

     Minho immediately jumped into action. He generally thought his girlfriend’s birthday was today. So he saw no harm in going back home, seeing (name), and then going to his parents after. He tossed his phone onto the bed and got dressed. He wasn’t gonna be here all day, he’d told his parents he was just staying the night and then heading to Y/n’s in the morning. He was sticking to the plan, whether she was pissed at him or not.

     He grabbed all his stuff and the gifts he had bought her. Mid-checking to make sure he had everything, all three of his cats decided to demand attention. Minho sighed and sat on the bed and petted Doongi while Soogni and Dori did their own thing in his room. “Wanna go see you’re mom? She won’t beat me up if you guys come.” Minho said.

     Doongi just meowed at him as he got up, grabbing their travel crate. He got it on the bed and opened it, leaving them to go in while he grabbed a few treats, in case they needed coercion, which they did.

     Once he did manage to get the three of them in and close the crate, he made sure he had everything. His mom shoved her birthday gift for Y/n into his arms before he left and got into the car. Minho kept an eye on his messages the whole ride over to her apartment. She probably wouldn’t text him after her last message. No point in messaging her that he was on the way, she wouldn’t let him in. So, he just opted to surprise her.

     Y/n was cleaning up from her and Jisung’s shit talk last night about her boyfriend. She’d passed out last night after he left to head back to the dorms. He texted and complained about his hangover which made up for a little bit of the sour mood. She updated him about the conversation with her boyfriend. 

     She was cleaning up the counter when she heard a knock at her door. She put the rag down and headed over to unlock it. Figuring it was probably one of the guys. And she was right, it just wasn’t the one she wanted to see. Then she saw the cat crate. “I’m only letting you in because I want to see my babies.”

     “I’m not gonna argue it,” Minho said as he walked in.

     He let the cats out in the living room and they immediately took over, having been to Y/n’s apartment before. Soongi went right over to Y/n and laid on her lap. Minho had set down the presents he’d brought over as well and sat on the floor. “I’m sorry kitten. I shouldn’t have blamed you for my mistake. I don’t know why I didn’t hear my phone go off yesterday.”

     “You still forgot my birthday,” Y/n glared at him

     “And I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t forget you’re birthday, no matter what’s going on. That’s on me entirely and I swear on our babies it won’t happen again.”

     Y/n looked at the cat on her lap for a moment. “Cook me dinner tonight and I’ll accept you’re apology.”

     “Deal,” Minho agreed immediately, without a fight

     “Why did you buy me so much by the way?” Y/n motioned the gifts on the table

     “Because I love you and you deserve it. And there’s one from my parents.” Minho moved up to the couch and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

     “I’ll open them later. You have cuddles to make up for being a dickhead.”

     “Come here.” Minho pulled her against him as she held the cat in her arms

CHANGBIN

     Changbin sighed, running his hands through his curls. He usually wasn't a forgetful person, especially with his girlfriend. How the fuck did he manage to forget her birthday and then go out with another female friend. He quite honestly felt awful about it. Now he had to figure out an apology. Food always seemed like a good apology. 

     Y/n didn’t even go back to sleep after she texted her boyfriend. She just lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She knew she couldn’t stay mad at him for long. But she was also a bit pissed that he had said “argument” in his text. He was wrong for forgetting her birthday but it made it sound like he wasn’t wrong for doing so. The word just pissed her off more.

     Y/n got up and did some housework she had been putting off for a few days. Better than laying in bed angry. She tossed the covers off and got to work, putting on her playlist as she worked. It took her mind off of it for a while. Almost an hour later she heard a knock at her door. She figured it was a package she ordered and opened the door. But it was just a food delivery, and she knew she hadn’t ordered food today.

     She picked up the take-out bag and looked at it. It was from her favorite take out spot and the address was hers so someone sent it to her. Only one person came to mind.

     She took the food inside and set it on the counter before texting the boyfriend she was mad at. He must have been waiting for her to text him because he replied immediately.

Y/n: Did you order food to my place?

Gym rat: Yes. It’s part one of my apology for missing you’re birthday.

     She rarely could stay mad at Changbin for long. She mentally sighed and typed out the next text.

Y/n: Come over so we can talk

Gym rat: on my way 

     Y/n ate and finished up her cleaning while she waited. It only took him twenty minutes to get to her apartment and knock on the door. 

     “He has a key, why is he knocking?” Y/n asked herself as she walked towards the door.

     Her question was answered when she opened the door and saw his arms full with a bouquet of flowers and gift bags. His face just said ‘i’m sorry.’ Y/n stepped aside and let him in. Changbin stepped in and set the gifts and flowers down on her coffee table before turning to her. Y/n had followed him into the living room after she locked the door, arms crossed.

     “You wanna argue now?”

     “There’s nothing to argue about,” Changbin sat on the edge of her couch. “It was wrong of me to forget you’re birthday and then go out with (name). I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.”

     “That hurt, you know. Going out with another girl on my birthday.” Y/n walked over to him from where she stood.

     “I know sweetheart. I would never do that on purpose to you. I would never cancel on you for another girl. I love you too much to hurt you like that.” Changbin reach out and pulled her towards him so she stood between his legs. He placed his hands on the back of her thighs, looking up at her, “Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Won’t ever happen again.” He placed a soft kiss on her stomach.

     The little kiss made her smile as she looked down at him and ran her hands through his curls. “Promise?”

     “Swear on my life,” Changbin rested his chin up against her chin.

     “You’re forgiven, love. You owe two days’ worth of cuddles for that.”

     “I’ll give you a month’s worth of cuddles to make up for it.”

     Changbin pulled her down onto his lap and cradled her into his chest and showered her with kisses

HYUNJIN

     Y/n ignored her boyfriend’s last text, not even looking at the device as she threw it onto the couch. She wrapped herself up in her favorite blanket and turned back to the show she was watching. Almost forgetting the conversation with her boyfriend until she heard a few knocks on her door. She’d waddled over to the door and looked through the peephole. She saw her boyfriend on the other side. She’d almost told him off but she knew from the look he was trying not to break down crying.

     She was a weak woman to her emotional ferret of a boyfriend. She took a deep breath and opened the door, blanket hanging around her frame as she met his eyes.

     “I’m so sorry darling,” Hyunjin was sure if she told him to leave now he’d cry the whole way back to the dorms.

     “Come in. Let’s talk,” Y/n let him inside.

     Hyunjin stepped into the familiar apartment and followed her over to the couch. He put the food and coffe on the table and sat on the ground in front of her.

     “(name) knows when my birthday is hyune,” Y/n stated

     “I knew something was off yesterday,” Hyunjin sighed

     “What’s that mean?”

     “She showed up at the dorm, damn near right as I rolled out of bed and asked me to go shopping with her.”

     “Took advantage of you’re sleepiness, huh?”

     “Yeah. Thinking back on it she almost made sure I wasn’t looking at my phone yesterday, and was being super clingy,” Hyunjin’s face scruched up at the thought.

     “Yeah. She likes you hyune. I noticed when I first met her. I didn’t want to seem like the controlling girlfriend so I didn’t say anything,” Y/n explained as she ran her hands through his hair

     “I would never think you’re controlling, love,” Hyunjin moved up to the couch and pulled her into his arms, “I really am sorry about forgetting about you love.’’

     “I forgive you darling, (name) is to blame.”

     “Think I should stop being friends with her.”

     “Do what’s best for you darling. I’ll support you either way.”

     “I love you.”

     “Love you too.”

HAN

     Han practically was running around the dorm getting everything he needed. His friends were a bit concerned but there was no stopping him from getting out the door. He quickly yelled bye and that he was going to his girlfriends to his friends and rushed to the car. The car ride is what he dreaded, time wise he hated it. His leg bounced up and down. He’d just barely managed to text Y/n that he was on his way over after picking up his take out order and was waiting for a reply.

     He felt it buzz in his hand and was a bit disappointed when he saw it was a text from (name) about wanting to hang out again today

Han: can’t. I completely forgot about Y/n’s birthday yesterday. I’m hanging out with her today. (Name): that’s why I asked to hang out with you yesterday ji… you spend a lot of time with her. Forgot about me  Han: you purposely hung out with me on my girlfriends birthday and didn’t think to mention it??? (Name): that would’ve defeated the purpose of us spending time together. Y/n’s kinda a gold-digger Han: are you fucking serious rn?  (Name): no need to cuss Han: I almost had a panic attack this morning when I woke up and relized i ditched my girlfriend on her birthday. Now you’re calling her a gold-digger?? She’s never once asked me for anything financially or tried to get money out of me. (Name): sorry. Didn’t know she was actually more important than me Han: it was her birthday? I’ve spent your birthday with you before, and while I was with Y/n too and she was perfectly fine with it. Why aren’t you? (Name): If you don’t know, figure it out Han: Don’t contact me again (name).

     The only shinning light from that conversation was he was pulling up to Y/n’s apartment building by the time he locked his phone. He grabbed everything he brought with him and thanked the driver has the car came to a stop. Han got out and rushed up to his girlfriends apartment and knocking on the door.

     Y/n got up from the couch and walked to her door as she heard the knock. She opened the door and looked at her boyfriend.

     “I’m so unbelievably sorry baby,” Han started

     “Come in,” Y/n stepped aside and let him inside. He walked into her kitchen and set down the food and gifts as she joined him, “It’s going to take more than food and an ‘im sorry’.” Y/n said

     “Would me telling you that I told (Name) not to contact me anymore help?”

     “Possibly,” He could see the smile on her lips

     “You have to tell me why you guys don’t get along though.”

     “She’s undoubtedly in love with you and i’m pretty sure she’s also one of those girls who wants easy fame.”

     “That explains the gold-digger part.”

     “Did she call me a fucking gold-digger?!”

     “Here.” Jisung handed her his phone and let her read through the conversation. Y/n took the phone and sat on the kitchen counter as she read through the conversation. Han stood inbetween her legs and placed his hands on her thighs.

     “What a fucking bitch.” Y/n said, “And she’s still texting you.”

     “I’m not dealing with her right now.”

     Jisung took his phone and tossed it onto the counter, “I’m really sorry though. I just woke up and she was there.”

     “I just don’t know how you didn’t realize she was in love with you. She’s always trying to practically be on you.”

     “Because i’m absolutely in love with you and want you, twenty-four-seven.”

     “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Y/n cupped his face and pecked his lips 

FELIX

     Felix felt terrible. He doesn’t know how he got his dates mixed up or how he just completely ignored his phone all day. The car ride made him realize that (name) had a tendency to drag him into doing things with her when she knew Felix had plans with Y/n. And he was too nice to say no most of the time. 

     He thanked the driver as he got out of the car to head up to her home. He knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before she opened the door. “Let me apologize flower.”

     No one could stay made and Felix, not even his girlfriend. There was a certain air about him that just made you happy to be around him and kiss his freckled cheeks.

     “Okay,” Y/n let him inside and closed the door behind him. Felix set the container of brownies in her kitchen before he met her in the living. Y/n sat on the couch as he came back in and sat down next to her, arm over the back of the couch behind her.

     “I’m really sorry about not answering you yesterday flower. I know (name) does this a lot.”

     “I can understand it every other time lix. You guys were friends well before I was in the picture. Yeah it hurts sometimes, but—”

      “Hey, no buts. I shouldn’t even be canceling premade plans with you for her. Especially not on you’re birthday. That was fucked up of me.”

     “It was. That hurt a lot.”

     “I know, I need to stop agreeing to hang out with her whenever she wants.” Felix pulled Y/n into her chest adn wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll talk to her later about it.”

     “Yeah, you owe me cuddles and brownies for that bullshit.”

     “I’ll throw some kisses in there too.” Felix chuckled and smothered her face with kisses

SEUNGMIN

     If Seungmin was one thing, he was persistent. So it didn’t surprise Y/n one bit that after she had told him to go home that he proceeded to knock on the door for two minutes straight. Y/n got fed up with the noise and opened the door and glared at him.

     “Go home,” Y/n told him, closing the door.

     At least tried to. Seungmin stopped it with his foot. Y/n opened the door and glared at him again. Trying not to look at the food and flowers—both her favorites— otherwise she’d break too fast.

     “Please bub. Let’s talk about it. Do you really think I would forget your birthday on purpose?”

     “Get in. I don’t wanna make a scene for the neighbors.”

     Seungmin stepped inside and turned back, “I’m really sorry bubs.”

     “That’s not gonna take back the fact you forgot my birthday and went out with a girl who clearly doesn’t like me.”

     Y/n felt the water hanging heavy on her tear line as she walked into the living room. She hadn’t liked seungmin’s friend in question since she had met her. Y/n tried being civil since (name) was there before her, but the side eye (name) gave her once seungmin wasn’t looking told her everything. They weren’t going to get along. And it frustrated her immensely.

     “Hey bubs,” Seungmin followed her into the living room as she plopped down on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and hugged it close to her chest. He set down the flowers and food container and kneeled down in front of her, “Talk to me. Did (name) say or do something?”

     “Would it matter?”

     “Yes. You're the girl I'm dating, not (name). Bubs,” he grabbed hold of her face and wiped the tears away

     “I don’t want to cause issues between you guys though. You were friends before we met. I don’t want to be that girlfriend.”

     “Bubs, I’m well aware (name) has a thing for me. I’ve told her before it’s not ever happening. I thought it was over and done with,” Seungmin explained

     “When?” 

     “A month after we started dating.”

     “Yeah, she heavily side-eyes me whenever i’m around her. Never said anything, I just know she doesn’t like me.”

     “Well, she can deal with it. I’m not playing this game with her anymore. I’d rather keep you than her.”

     “Why?”

     “Because you make me so extremely happy that sometimes I don’t know what to do. And I’m so sorry I let her drag me out with her. I really am bubby. I love you,” Seungmin leaned up and kissed her forehead. He never said those words often. Y/n smiled and pulled him up to the couch, replacing the pillow with him and cuddling up to him as he chuckled at her, nonetheless wrapping his arms around her.

     “I love you too pup.”

I.N

Y/n barely spared a glance at her boyfriend when she opened the door. She grabbed the food from his outstretched hands and walked back to her kitchen. Jeongin followed inside, locking the apartment door behind him.

He followed her to the kitchen, she was grabbing out a fork for the food as he walked in.

“I didn't mean to ditch you yesterday bun. She showed up at the dorm and dragged me out yesterday. I feel really bad,” Jeongin pulled her on for a hug and nuzzled his head into her neck

“I can't be mad at you when acting all cute and shit when you hug me,” Y/n sighed and hugged him back.

“It's part of my charm.”

Y/n laughed at him as he looked up and kissed her cheek, “Eat your breakfast.”

Y/n are the food he brought, occasionally feeding some to him as well.

“Oh, I told (name) not to talk to me anymore by the way. She didn't take it well,” Jeongin told her as they finished the food

“Why?” Y/n asked as she cleaned up

“She was acting like it was a date yesterday, trying to hang off my side. It just wasn't comfortable for me.”

“She was your best friend and didn't know you hate physical touch?”

“Most. I don't mind you touching me bun,” the maknae pulled her into him and kissed her lips

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BOY NEXT DOOR 4 - ( c.s )

part three

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, slightly suggestive MEOW

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART FOUR! i promise u guys are not ready for what’s coming next 🫨 thank u to everyone who’s been reading along i love u all so very much!! my inbox is always open and i hope ur having a wonderful day (also doesn’t that first pic look so much like chris i screamed)

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @cupidsword @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs

“wow, someone looks extra hot tonight.” cassidy comments as she walks into your room, which is laughable coming from her.

she’s an angel, literally glowing in her multi-colored halter. you swear you shop at the same places, and yet she somehow always finds the gems.

“god, says you.” you joke, unable to keep a straight face as you stand up from your desk.

but you’re all done up too, dressed in a red tube top and some black jeans that flare out a little, hugging your hips just right. and yeah, you’re a bit smug knowing that you’re going to chris’s party looking extra great, but you embrace the post-pregame confidence.

“are you sure you want to go? we really don’t have to.” cass asks as you pass by her into the upstairs hallway.

“i mean, why not? i can never turn down free alcohol.” you shrug, and it’s part of the truth.

paying for yourself at the bar is never as fun, and the chances of somebody buying your drinks is usually slim. plus it’s on shithead’s tab tonight, which makes it that much sweeter.

“i totally agree. i just…” her smile falters a little, and she sighs, “i just don’t want you to get hurt or anything.”

it makes you pause, hearing her say that. you’d ended up talking to both of your roommates after chris came knocking on your bedroom door, and they’d been rightfully wary of his excuse.

but her words kind of confirm your worries; that chris is someone to be feared, someone to keep at a distance. like you won’t be able to resist the charm.

like you’ll fall.

“he can’t hurt me if i don’t let him.” you reply, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself.

“okay, i won’t push it. i know you’re tough, but i can’t help but check in.” cass nods at you before you head down the stairs.

“i appreciate it, but i’m good, so let’s go get bombed.” you’re grinning again, still buzzing from the two drinks you’d finished while doing your makeup.

ramona is already downstairs, bopping along to the beat of the music she has playing on the tv. she’s midway through a shot of tequila as you round the corner to the kitchen, swallowing so she can bite down on a slice of lime with her free hand.

you and cassidy both chuckle at the grimace that passes over her face.

“you ready party animal?” cass teases.

“always.” she replies once she’s calm, placing the tiny glass into the sink before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of alcohol.

each of you shove your old beat up shoes onto your feet, and mona turns off the television seconds after. you can still feel the bass vibrating, but you know it’s coming from the house beside you, which makes your heart jump into your throat.

you walk out the door, one behind the other like a row of ducks as you trample through the thin layer of snow from a few days prior.

tonight, you can tell chris has his own mix on, because you recognize the yeat song that’s currently playing. you’ve always liked his taste more than the others.

you’ll never admit that to him, though.

it’s way louder now that you’re up close, and you can literally feel the party raging. ramona leads the pack, stepping inside and swinging the door open for the rest of you.

the darkness swallows you once you step inside, but your eyes adjust quickly. you recognize some people as you shift through the crowd, regulars who are usually here and a couple of guys on the team.

you try not to look for chris, instead choosing to focus on the back of ramona’s head while you guys shuffle to the kitchen for drinks. there’s a few people chatting as you step through the archway, one of them being ben. his sandy blonde hair is pushed away from his face, and he smiles at your arrival.

“hey there neighbors!” he greets each of you guys with a side hug, clearly already drunk even though it’s only eleven.

you just thank god he set his cup down, because you know he would have spilled it all over.

“benjamin, always a pleasure.” cassidy laughs at his slightly sloppy demeanor.

“chris is gonna be really happy.” ben shoots a smirk your direction, and you roll your eyes, opting to move to the bottles of cheap vodka on the counter.

“i really don’t care.” you snark, pouring a hefty bit of alcohol into your cup before setting the handle back down.

“feisty tonight, woah!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

your friends follow close behind, making their own drinks and pouring them equally as strong.

“where’s your girl, benny? haven’t seen her around in a minute.” ramona asks with a small smile, clearly trying to change the subject.

“she’s out at the bar. girls night or something.” ben shrugs as you add some sprite to your drink and take a sip.

it’s extremely bitter even with the mixer, but you choke it down and deal with the burn. you’re still not tipsy enough, so you’re playing catch-up to try and reach the level you want to be at.

mona nods at this as she slides back up next to you, cassidy joining moments later when she’s done making her drink.

“well, tell her to come around soon, i miss her.” she requests.

“i miss her too, i’ll pass the message along.” ben points a finger at her like he’s locking in a promise, loopy grin morphing his features.

“alright, we’re going to dance, but i’m sure we’ll see you later.” cass waves her free hand goodbye before you all make your way back into the masses, shoving your way into the living room.

it’s pretty packed tonight, as usual, and a sheen layer of sweat already covers your skin. you run a hand through your hair while cassidy meshes into the crowd, making enough room for you guys to move around.

bodies bump against yours as you all dance to the music together, sipping your drinks and laughing at each other’s silly moves. you swear you’ve seen connor now too, and yet you still haven’t spotted chris.

you suppose this is a good thing, because the sensation of being inebriated is only just beginning to wash over your body, and you don’t want to deal with him sober.

so you dance, and drink, and dance and drink some more, letting the hazy lights illuminate you as you bop around with your friends.

you’re knocking back the last of your fifth beverage of the night when you feel someone come up behind you, hand snaking to hold your waist gently. your first assumption is chris, and your heart leaps into your throat, but you’re wrong.

it’s a guy you don’t recognize. his black tapered hair is a mess on his head as he gazes at you hungrily.

“dance with me?” he asks over the music.

cassidy and ramona are seconds away from stepping in, but you shake your head at them to indicate you’re fine. for once, you don’t really mind being hit on, especially because he’s kind of cute and you’re definitely drunk.

it’s not like it means anything anyways.

so you back up slightly, his front flush against your spine as you move your hips, rolling them into his own.

your friends grin devilishly as the two of you sway together, so close it almost feels like you’re one person. his hand presses flat against your stomach, holding you so he can feel the friction of your ass grinding against him.

you swear it’s only been a second before the crowd parts slightly, revealing a pissed-off looking chris as he barrels his way past the other people in the living room. his eyes are ablaze, and he yanks you away from the mystery man the second he’s close enough.

“get lost, jamie.” he snaps at the boy you were with, whose eyes are wide in fear now.

he must be an underclassman then, because he scurries away instantly, too scared to stand his ground against the captain of the team and the host of the party.

“what the fuck, chris? i was having fun.” you cross your arms over your chest, slurring ever so slightly as you glare at him.

he doesn’t respond to this; instead, his chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, and his dark gaze trails up and down your body. he grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the staircase without a reply.

your friends watch in awe as he drags you away, though neither of them bother to interfere. they’re swallowed by the swarm moments later, and your stomach flips at the fact that they’re gone.

it’s just you and him now.

the foyer blurs by as you reach the stairs, and you nearly stumble trying to keep up with his pace. you’ve only just made it to the privacy of the upstairs hall when chris drops your arm, whirling around to face you.

“what is wrong with you?”

your mouth falls open slightly at his tone, at how animalistic he looks standing before you, blocking you against the wall. his white shirt is unbuttoned slightly, and you can smell that fucking dior on him.

“what the hell does that mean?” you retaliate, already flushed in anger.

“i didn’t even know you could dance like that, let alone with my teammate.” chris snarls.

“everyone can dance, and i had no idea he was on the team. it’s not like you were talking to me anyways.” you stand your ground, meeting his judgmental gaze head on.

“did you want me to?”

“i mean, you’re the one who invited me to this stupid party, so i kind of expected to at least see you.” you tell him truthfully, and you know it’s the alcohol talking now.

“one second you hate me and the next you’re angry i’m not giving you attention. i can’t figure you out, and it drives me fucking crazy.” he continues to stare down at you in frustration, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

you hate how fast your heart is slamming against your ribcage. every time he’s this close to you it’s like the air is sucked out of the room. you can’t even breathe.

“why did you really pull me away, chris?” you ask quietly.

you already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it out loud for once.

“because you should only be moving that pretty ass of yours against me.” his voice is low, and he takes a step forward.

you cancel out his movement, completely backed up against the wall now. he can’t help but let his eyes roam down to your chest, to your exposed cleavage.

you’ve been taunting him all night, though you weren’t even aware. chris has just been watching you in your element, staying to himself and letting you do your thing with your friends for a bit.

after his last conversation with you he felt like maybe he should back off, but then seeing you with somebody else was even worse. it shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t be so fucking obsessed so soon.

but you’re looking at him with those wide eyes, soft lips parted, and there’s no way to resist. one hand travels to the back of your neck and the other grabs at your waist, pulling you into his own hips as he smashes his mouth to yours.

it’s somehow even more passionate than the first time, messy and rough, how you both like it most. chris bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away a minute later, kissing your cheek and jaw, then down your neck.

his cold fingers make their way underneath the hem of your shirt as you feel his teeth close down on the sensitive skin. a strangled moan escapes your mouth before you can bite it back.

“i like that sound a lot, princess.” he says into your ear before his lips focus on that hollow sweet spot you love so much.

you know he’s going to leave a mark, but it feels so good you don’t care. yet you choke down the whimper you feel crawling up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much you like it.

“c’mon, i know you want to.” he mumbles against your throat, and you can literally feel him smirking.

arrogant bastard. two can play at this game.

you put your hands on his chest so you can drive him backwards into the opposite wall. he’s surprised by you taking the lead, and you press your body flat against his, connecting your mouths roughly once more.

chris’s hands roam to grip your ass, a delicious pressure that you shouldn’t enjoy so much. your fingers nimbly travel to the waist of his jeans, and you feel his body tense under your touch.

you can’t help but grin into his lips as you move your hand lower, underneath the band of his boxers, grazing the warm skin of his hip tantalizingly slow.

you shift your focus to his own neck, sucking harshly and running your tongue over his skin until you finally hear him groan, a noise that you relish. his fingers dig into your flesh harder, and you can feel him grind against your thigh.

but you already got what you wanted, so you break away and take a step backwards. the shock on chris’s face after your abrupt departure is clear, his lips raw and hair tousled.

“and you had the nerve to imply that i’m the one who wanted this.” you smile and shake your head, making a move toward the stairs.

“you’re seriously just going to leave?” he asks in disbelief, which makes you turn.

“what did you think was going to happen, chris?” you smirk, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before swiping your thumb along your bottom lip.

his own mouth slowly turns up as he stares at you with a certain kind of ferocity in his eyes, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his messy hair.

“nothing, i guess. but whatever we didn’t get to will happen eventually, you know.”

“no, it won’t.” you reply, a bit too quickly to be convincing.

“i think it will. who knows, maybe next time you’ll let me use my mouth somewhere else.” chris says lowly, hand ghosting across your hip as he passes by you, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression of self-satisfaction.

then he heads back down the stairs, vanishing around the corner like nothing had even happened.

days ago you were swearing up and down that you’d never kiss him again, that nothing would happen. and now you’re standing alone in his house while the music thumps, knees weak and breathing heavy with a hickey on your neck.

the scariest part of all is that you’re still craving more, even though you don’t want to.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey au #neighbor au #new series #fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirits - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.7)

Summary: reactions from team avatar when they find out your ozais assassin

warning: mentions of scars, not very happy gaang, mean katara!, angst

masterlist: here!

most previous part: here! (all other parts can be found in my masterlist!)

authors note! hello!! idk if anyone will be reading this but if you are welcome!! i haven't posted to this series in YEARS so please forgive me as I'm very rusty at writing but please enjoy!

Unified screams erupted upon Appa. “YOU’RE WHAT!”

“Aang what have you done! You literally let a murderer on Appa! She’s going to kill all of us! Katara was right, and I can’t believe I ignored her.”

“I KNEW IT! Quickly Aang, land Appa and let’s get her off!”

Unable to take it anymore, Toph lost her cool. “Can you knuckle heads shut up! I highly doubt that she will kill us, why the hell would she listen to you guys fighting all the time when she could end her misery by taking you out.”

Reality hitting Sokka and Katara, they finally piped down, allowing Toph to continue.

“Look, what you said is highly questionable. I’m not saying that I trust you, but you’re going to have to give us more information than that or else I’ll throw you off myself. Got it?”

You sighed. At least someone in the group had more sense. “Yeah, of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well for starters a name would be great. Oh and maybe, I don’t know, how and why you’re the Fire Lords Assassin?!”

You almost wanted to pull Katara’s braid for the irritating look of satisfaction on her face. “Right okay… well my name is y/n. uhhh and I was forced to become his assassin when he caught me after I broke into the palace three years ago.”

“That’s it?! Nuh uh lady. I know he’s the Fire Lord and had done some awful things but why would he do that to a child?! You’re either lying or somethings still missing.”

There was a lot to weigh up. To suddenly reveal everything about you would be too much and would get you thrown off Appa anyway. Yet to reveal nothing wouldn’t let you gain enough trust to even last a day. Leaving you to share the one thing you knew so little about yourself that you didn’t care if they knew and hopefully enough of a miserable, pitying tale that they’d let you off the hook for the time being.

“My parents aren’t in my life, they never were. I don’t know who they were or why they did it. All I had was my trainer, Zemin. In his time, he was the most notorious Assassin in the entire Fire Nation and when he retired, he never took on any students to carry on his legacy - if you could even call it that. Every other trainer was ecstatic because this meant that their students would earn the most bounties. Until there was me. I don’t know why he took me in… he just said that he found me as in infant and regretfully took me from an islands rocky shore maybe to sell me off somewhere. I suppose he realised he could make even more money from me if he trained me until I could pay off debt for him raising me. I did the one thing assassins could do, kill. All the money I ever earned from each bounty went straight to him. Luckily enough, I learned quickly, and I got to my final payment when I was 13, then he would have set me free.”

Horrified, Aang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was nothing like this in the Air Temples growing up. “Luckily enough?! How in any universe is that lucky!”

“Most assassins in the Fire Nation, and others, are stuck paying off their guardians or trainers well into their adulthood. Because of… certain tactics and advantages, I became quite popular if you could put it that way and most of the people, I had to take care of were…” Halting, you knew that if you verbally said some lives are worth more than others, Aang would probably go into cardiac arrest.

“Well, some had more people wanting them gone so the bounty was higher.”

“How does this have anything to do with you working for the fire lord! I don’t see why Zemin would let you go if you were doing so much for him.”

Your strength was fading. You hated yourself for how much you scretly enjoyed having people around that weren’t as idealistic as those in the Fire Nation.  “He didn’t. I got an anonymous mission to take out a high general in the palace. So high, that it was going to be enough for me to finish my debt.” After not being met with screams you felt reassured to continue…. they seem to be taking this well…

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “On my way out, I got caught in the middle of an Agni Kai. The fire lord wasn’t too pleased I killed one of his generals or interfered with punishing his son. Yet somehow in his psychopathic mind he saw it as an opportunity to pledge my allegiance to him.”

The silence amongst the group was short lived.

“YOU MEAN ZUKO?”

“YOU KILLED SOMEONE.”

“AND YOU ACCEPTED?”

You scrunched your face. Maybe this was a bad idea to tell them. But it was too late to go back. “Yes, it was Prince Zuko in the Agni Kai, that’s how he got his scar. Yes, Aang I did kill the general, but to be fair I haven’t killed anyone since then… And Katara if you were being tortured every day for 8 months, I’m sure you would wear down too.”

The waterbender was unsatisfied with your answer. “Unbelievable! Of course, you did! Everyone has a choice in this world, and you chose the fire lord. You’re nothing but a coward.”

“My life was on the line! You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh please, y/n. I do. I know everything! Sure, you were raised to assassinate others, but you can’t expect me to believe you didn’t know what you were doing when you were standing before Ozai. I would have stayed in a life of suffering than go with him.” Shaking her head, she pierces you with a disgusted look, “You’re no better than Ozai. No better than Azula.”

As Appa continued to glide through the ever-ending expanse of the sky, it seemed nothing could break the suffocating tension that encompassed everyone upon his saddle.

Toph was the only one to speak up. “Didn’t you hear her Katara? She hasn’t killed anyone since then! She’s surviving. If you ask me… she’s braver than any of us, you never know what could have happened to her if she got caught not actually killing her targets!”

Irritated Katara only grumbled, turning away while leaving the two boys to think about how they felt about you. Despite giving them answers, they still had so many questions.

It was undeniably clear that Katara has made her mind up about you, and you were sure everyone else was the same despite the earth benders attempts at comforting you. Hence, as you sat there across from the four of them, you were the first to break eye contact, turning your head to the side as you searched for something to focus on out there in the sky. Bird, a cloud, anything. You didn’t have the heart, the courage, to argue against what she said.

Unknown to you, Aang shuffled closer to you scared that his angry friend might hear him going towards you. His words only just loud enough to hear above the wind he whispered to you… “Its okay y/n. I don’t really understand what you’ve done or what you’ve been through but when youre ready.. you can tell us.

That was the first time your heart ignited a comforting warmth.

As Appas soft paws skilfully landing on the hard earth, you felt your heart drop inside you. What do I do now? Mind racing through all the possibilities, Toph seemed to have decided what to do before you could even stand.

“Hey! Come with me.”

Jumping off Appas saddle you landed on your feet with such a skilled silence, Toph had to sense your heartbeat to even realise you were next to her. Setting off towards where she’d set up her sleeping area, it was best you stuck closely behind.

“Don’t think about what Katara said, she doesn’t get it.”

“How so?”

Stalling in her tracks, she turned her unseeing gaze towards you. “She doesn’t know what its like to be born into a life that you don’t want. And she definitely doesn’t know how hard it can be trying to escape it.”

Unsure with how to reply, humming in understanding was the best you could come up with.

“Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I know you most certainly don’t need me, but I’ve got your back.”

The next day had gone by agonizingly slow. With Toph trying to teach Aang earth bending you were left to your own devices since Katara decided to tag along. Although you found yourself tailing Sokka as he went his own way looking for food unaware of your silent giggles seeing him get stuck in the ground.

“...big things eat smaller things. Nothing personal. But this time, it didn’t work out that way…I admit it, you’re cute…”

You decide to finally reveal yourself, tired of your lack of entertainment. “What are you doing down there Sokka?”

Letting out a girl like squeal, he’s horrified at getting caught in this position. “Nothing!”

“You look like you could use some help.”

“I don’t want help from you!” You dismiss it. Surely he has no other choice but to make himself acquainted with you.

“Yeah, right. It’s funny, you’re probably the third person that has ever said that to me. The second in about the span of 48 hours.” you cant help but divert your attention towards the cute animal annoying him. “Aweee look at this cutie!”

“Get away from it!”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to hurt it!”

“Please, I actually quite like animals. They’re a lot better than humans anyway.”

“I- well… fine! Just go away?”

You scoff, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t like you!”

“Hmm… is that so.”

“Yes, of course it is!”

You’re done feeling sorry for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t like me, or do you feel that way because of your sister?”

“I- well… argh! Fine! I don’t know.”

“Well… why don’t you talk to me and work it out for yourself? If you still dislike me so much I’ll leave you be and get someone to come help.”

A  silence fills the distance between the two of you.

He sighs, caving in, “So.. this Zemin guy. Did he REALLY not give you a choice?”

Looking up, you stare at the clear sky. “I learnt early on in my training that I didn’t have a choice or options in life other than what he wanted. Any exercise I rushed through, half assed, or tried to skip through when he wasn’t looking came with consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“The kind that keeps all of my clothing and bindings on so I don’t constantly get pitiful looks or too many questions.”

He scoffs, “prove it”

Staring at all your layers you sigh, “don’t say I never warned you.”

Peeling off all your layers one by one until your down to just your tank top and pants, you decide to take off your face mask last. Your eyes meeting Sokka’s, you notice him swallow thickly. But its you to break the ice first. “In all fairness, most of them are now from Ozai. The older they look… well I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.”

“b-but-“Fuck why did I have to make him uncomfortable.

Unable to take it any longer, you pull him out from the hole in the ground. “Its fine.”

You turn to walk away after helping him, but he grabs your scarred wrist, the feeling of the textured skin making him internally wince. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you expose yourself like that. Its horrible that you had to experience that… hell we look the same age!”

“Everyone is on different paths. Look, lets just forget about it..”

Sokka feels like he could bust into tears “No! you don’t understand. I’ve seen the effects of the fire nation… hell they took away my mum. I still remember it, sometimes I have weeks where I keep reliving it in my nightmares, only finding peace when im awake. Its like im being haunted. But- but you?! You have to face it whether you’re awake or asleep”.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can’t handle the intensity of his words. Theres nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. You hug him. You don’t remember the last time you held someone. It feels weird, almost wrong. But as he squeezes you back, tightening the embrace, you understand one thing. You have an understanding with the water tribe boy, despite how dark it may feel.

Hours pass by as you sit with sokka talking about useless topics until the other three join you once more. Feeling weariness in their gaze, you realise you forgot to put your layers back on. Now everyone can see your face and scars.

Only Aang has the courage to speak with you.

“Hey. Uhhh, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I’m sorry for not speaking much with you since yesterday. I didn’t mean to, it was just a lot to process personally! Growing up with the Air Nomads, I was taught that killing is wrong and that under no circumstance should that be the answer. If I’m completely honest with you, I still stand by those teachings and to have someone who has… killed… so close to me and the people I care the most about is… unsettling.”

There it was. You knew despite how much he was trying; you knew he wouldn’t be able to see past what you did. What you are.

“I understand. I don’t blame you, or anyone for reacting the way they are, and I know what it feels like to want to protect those who mean something to you.” You glance at Sokka, remembering how he understood.

“Just… please understand that I’ve realised what I did was wrong and while I can’t change everything that I have done, I’m trying to move away from that way of life. I don’t want to be a killer anymore. I’m trying my best to fix it.”

“I know…. Its just-“

“You don’t trust me.”

“What?! NO! I mean…. I don’t know. You clearly have good inside of you but it’s hard to look past.”

“I get it. I’ll head off then, the world needs you Aang and I won’t be the one to stand it your way.”

“No! stop! Please! I know I said it’s hard for me to do, but I clearly see you trying your best. I know you won’t hurt me. I just… I suppose I need to open my eyes more. See you for who you are now, what you’re doing now.”

But what if you can’t? What if I’m still that person, no matter how much I try to shove it away. This is what I have been made to become?

“Okay.”

Letting out a nervous quiet laugh, he glances back to everyone. “okay well… lets eat!”

Zuko stares at the sky in the heavy downpour. “You always through everything you could at me. Well, I can take it. And now I can give it back!”

Lightning cacks in the sky before his eyes.

“Come on!”

“Strike me! You never held back before!”

Met with only the sound of the world around him, he feels helpless. Lost. Alone.

Screaming out, Zuko falls to his knees as the rain and guilt encompasses all of his senses.

His voice scratchy from screaming, he can hardly croak out… “You never held back from her."

taglist: ​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @slythergirlimagines ​​​ @whiskeywinter89​​ @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins​ ​ ​ @calciumcow @ilovespideyyy @callums-keith @nnon-it-up @blackhood5sos @chewymoustachio @tiffy119 @reclusive-chicken-nugget @lozzybowe​ @scarletemeterio​​ @simpinforsukka​ ​ ​ @sokkassuki​ @spearbatty @kaylove12

#zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #zuko #the gaang #zuko angst #atla zuko #prince zuko #avatar aang #aang #toph #sokka #suki #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko x aang #aang x katara #atla aang

[xkaidaxxxx]

Fortunate Ones

BAKUGOU X READER

Mentions: Corrupt Government, Quirkless, Injections, Pregnancy, Dad Bakugou, Fluff!

reblogs are appreciated! <3

There was a point in time where life was happy for everyone. Then one day things changed.

Those with Quirks lived a better life. Good homes, good environment, upperhand on job opportunities. Quirkless born have it rough. A child should have their quirk by the age of 5 and if not the government will give the child another year just in case they’re late bloomers. If no quirk is developed by the age of 6 they’re separated from their parents and put into the quirkless side of town, Although they are allowed to travel anywhere.They get paired with a good family. They’re not allowed to have any contact with their old family.

You grew up with Bakugou and Izuku. Yeah Bakugou was an asshole but you still followed behind him just as everyone else did. You and Deku had each other. Yes you were parted from your birth parents but the ones you were given too were great. They love you like their own. Deku went through the same thing which is why you guys are understanding each other. You thought you’d be with Izuku forever as besties and have a possibility to end up with Bakugou.

Izuku never told either of you about training with All Might. He couldn’t. He didn’t even tell you about getting into U.A. You thought you'd be going to school. You knew Bakugou got in and it hurt you like hell. Parting ways with someone you fell in love with. “ Since when do you have a quirk!?” You yelled at Izuku. “You’re a piece of shit for not telling her sooner.” Bakugou said. “ It’s not what you think,”Izuku said. He wanted to stay with his best friend. He wished the three of you could attend the best hero school there is. He cared more about being a hero. “ I can’t believe it. How..just have fun with your quirk Izuku. Bakugou have fun as well. I guess this is it…” you say tears running down your face. “Who knows…maybe we can meet up one day or whatever.” He said handing you a piece of paper with his number on it. You smiled. “Y-Yeah..thanks. I’ll miss you guys more than anything.” you said. Bakugou hated it when he was forced into a group hug. He hates physical contact but tolerated it for you. He’s always had a soft side, though he's a total asshole. 

Everyone went their separate ways. You didn’t stay in contact with Izuku. He’s “too busy.” when in reality he didn't make time. He cared more about being a hero. Bakugou is very serious about it too but he tried and did make time even if it was talking on the phone or meeting up in the city going to places where Quirkless people were allowed in. Sometimes he’d even facetime with you at night even after a long and tiring day. Yes he’d knock out mid way with you but he made the time and it made you happy. 

As time went on Bakugou developed feelings towards you and finally confessed after becoming a hero and you two Immediately started dating. During the ending of highschool there was a bill being set. Quirkless people were not allowed to house with a quirk user unless married. Then 2 years later the bill passed. 

“We could always lie. We don’t have to worry about it. Let me handle it.” Bakugou said, holding you close. You were both 20 and ready to move out. Bakugou was making a great amount of money from being a hero even though he's young. You were in your 3rd year in college studying for business management and English language. You had a small business. It’s going very well. You always have orders coming in. “We can’t lie about it,Kats. If they find out then what?” you asked. “We’ll make it happen eventually.” he replied, pecking your cheek. You nodded slightly. It was your plan with him. Him becoming a hero, you finishing school and starting your small business then soon enough live together. You continued your homework. Thank god you’re the smartest in all your class and gained trust from your teachers. They’d give great recommendations for when you need a job. 

“Hey mom. I brought her to meet you. You’ll love her.” Katsuki said. He brought you into the living room. “Really!? All this time?” Mitsuki said, giving you a big hug. You returned it. She’s known you since a kid; she just never thought you’d end up dating her son. “You should’ve told me since you started dating her. Why did you keep it a secret for so long?” She asked, letting me go. “I told him I wasn’t ready not until I was almost done with university.” You answered. “We were planning to move in together but…the new bill was placed..” he said gripping your hand lightly. Mitsuki knows how much he loves you because when you and Bakugou started she noticed how much he started changing and in a great way. “You two are young. Still in the beginning of the new chapter. Us parents will be here to support you both.” Mitsuki said. 

When you and Katsuki turned 21 he proposed to you. While you were at work he decorated the dining room with candles and roses.(he lived on his own.) He made your favorite meal. The lights were dimmed. “Hey Kats. I'm here. What did you need help with?” you asked as you took off your heels. “Yeah I'm in the dining room,” he replied. You went over and blushed as you saw the lovely decorated table. You both enjoyed the food. You talked and laughed. “You’re such a romantic, it's cute. Thank you for this.” You said smiling. “I have one more surprise.” He walked over to you.” he replied and made you stand up. “ Where are you taking me?” you asked. “No No, just stand there okay. Close your eyes, loser.” he replied. You obeyed him. Bakugou took out the ring and got down on one knee. “Open.” he ordered. When you saw him your heart was racing. “Y/n I'm in love with you and you know that. You give me everything you have to offer. You always express your love to me. Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” He asked. You nodded as you started crying with him. He slipped the ring on your finger. When the wedding happened a year later you both were so happy, loved and fortunate, very very fortunate. 

You must be wondering why? Well thank god you and Bakugou decided to try for a baby during the honeymoon and it happened. You were blessed twins, baby boys. During the time you were 7 months the government released the news about planning on injecting half of the quirkless females. An injection to stop them from reproducing. You had your babies and after you got approval from the doctor to have another child. You and Bakugou got to work. It was hard to take care of the twins while pregnant but you and Bakugou want a little tribe. 

“ Morning my wonderful boys.” Bakugou said to the twins who were awake and ready for their bottles. He carried both of them and got comfortable on the couch he fed both of them. Struggled but fed them. You were still asleep. He makes sure you get proper rest which is why he took time off work. To help you around the house another set of twins are on the way. You woke up around 9:30 am“Kats?Kousuke?Kensuke?” You called. “In the bathroom babe!” Bakugou said. He was giving the twins their baths. Kensuke was the calm one and Kousuke…sweet lord he’s the wild one. You walked in and saw Bakugou’s shirt all wet. The boys cooed and kicked as Bakugou made silly faces. Kousuke splashed water as Bakugou lifted him to scrub his back. “Let me help kats.” you said with a smile. It took about a good 30 minutes to bath them and have them all set . 

You had a small and cute gender reveal only you,bakugou, his parents, yours and your 2 siblings. It was inside the second nursery. Your sister knows the genders so she planned it. “You guys ready?” Mitsuki recorded. You and Bakugou took a deep breath and then let go as you both opened the closet. Half of it was filled with boy clothes and the other with girl clothes. You shared a kiss with Bakugou. Everyone clapped. “ I love you and our babies.” Bakugou said as he rubbed your bump. “ We love you too, loser.” you replied. Months later you pushed your beautiful babies out. 

You guys want a K family and you also wanted to have one more pregnancy. Hopefully you’re not one of the chosen quirkless females for the injection and lucky for guys you werent. By the time you and Bakugou were 26 you had 6 kids. 

Kids' names. K family. Eldest to youngest.

Kousuke Bakugou(m)

Kensuke Bakugou (m) 

Kyousuke Bakugou (m)

Kimiko Bakugou (f)

Kaoru Bakugou (f) 

Kaisei Bakugou (m)

You changed the kids out of their pjs and into cute clothes. Your mother made a family gathering. Bakugou hugged you from behind then nibbled on your ear whispering, “We should have one more, don't you think my sexy girl.” Your eyes widened when you felt his bulge. “ Go fix your problem in our room.” you said. “ Come on one more?” he begged, leaving a hickey on your neck. You saw the kids fall asleep as you packed up their diaper bags. “ Katsuki Bakugou no.” you replied. His hands roamed your body. When he got to your breasts you moaned as he pinched your nipples,you felt your milk leak a bit. “ one more.” he whispered in your ear and then licked your neck. “Fuck it.” you gave in. He was about to carry you away until baby Kaisei started crying. Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Mommys boy for sure,” he said. You smacked him then carried Kaisei, rocking him in your arms. Bakugou looked at him playing with his little hand. Kaisei wrapped his hand around Bakugou’s finger and gripped it. When the kids do that to him he always ends up crying. You never knew why but he always smiles and pecks their hands in the process. 

The best part of it all is that your children grew up with quirks. When they got their quirks you and Bakugou were blessed. Blessed to be able to stay with your family. 

You both were blessed by God to keep your loving family.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bnha katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugō #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki #bakugo #bnha kacchan #bnha #bnha x fem!reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #anime #katsuki x y/n #my hero x reader

[ovaryacted]

(TW: talk of abuse/domestic violence)

I’ve been thinking about Leon and his daughter. I am 100% sure this man is not above using his ties to the government to wipe anyone who harms his daughter/abusive partner off the face of the earth.

His perfect baby girl comes to her daddy with a bruised eye and crying? She’s an adult, sure. But Oh he’s going scorched earth.

He kisses his precious little girl on the forehead, lets her sleep in in her old bedroom, and once she’s settled, he grabs his gun and goes.

I really REALLY do not think he’d let an abuser live. Someone put their hands on his little girl. His perfect little baby has gotten hurt by someone she trusted/loved?

Yea I don’t think they’d survive.

CW: mentions of abuse and domestic violence; talks of violence as payback; Leon & the reader are together and have a daughter (unspecified age but 21+)

Anon, this message made me hurt inside, and you sent it to me a while ago so I apologize for not responding until now. But wow, we're getting really angsty...damn. This hurts, but I get where this idea coming from. I think seeing something like his daughter being hurt because of someone else will actually break Leon as both a parent and an individual who puts his life on the line for his family.

Ever since his daughter was born into the world, Leon vowed to protect her with his entire being. He worked so hard to keep her safe from the dangers of the reality that he was all too familiar with, keeping his princess in bubble wrap and tucked away in the safety he knew he could provide. It worked for some time, watching her grow up into her own human being, as gentle and as precious as he imagined, practically his spitting image with his eyes down to his smile.

No matter how old she got, she will always be his little girl. Leon wanted to keep her at home for a while longer, nervous about sending her off to college but she reassures him, promising to call once a week and on the weekends to ease his anxieties. He knew she'd have to venture off into the real world eventually, and his daughter stuck to her promise, often coming back home on her breaks and using that time to catch up with her parents.

He thinks he's done well in raising her alongside you, smart and charismatic, doing everything to ensure his child grew up to know what love and acceptance felt like so she'd never have to be without it like he was.

When Leon was introduced to her current boyfriend, he tried hard to accept him, run his own mental background checks, and make sure he was enough to take care of his daughter and treat her the way she deserved. His daughter was happy, so he relented, giving this new guy a chance. So long as he saw his daughter smiling, all was right in the world.

That's why when Leon gets a phone call from his daughter sometime at midnight, he's confused, but the hair at the back of his neck raises as he gets a weird feeling that something is wrong.

"Hi dad", he hears her on the other line, her voice shaky and unstable.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay? What's wrong?", he gets up instantly and walks out of the bedroom so he doesn't wake you up, not wanting to bring a panic just yet.

"Yeah, I'm okay", he hears a sniffle, he knows she's lying, but he doesn't mention it. "I just...can I come home? Please?"

"Of course you can, you can always come home. Do you need me to pick you up?", Leon asks without hesitation. He didn't care if there was a tornado outside, he was going to get his child back home.

"It's okay, I can drive, traffic isn't too bad. I'll see you in a few okay?", she was hiding something from him, and if that were the case it must be bad. And that scared him.

"Sure thing honey, please be safe", she hung up the phone, the anxiety getting much worse because he didn't know what to expect. You wake up soon after that to ask what's wrong, and decide to wait for your daughter to come back home and make sure she's alright.

Was she safe? Did something happen? Why did it sound like she was crying? Did someone hurt her?

So many different scenarios play in his mind that the sound of a knock at Leon's front door brings him back to the present. Opening the door, he tries to hide the way his heart crack at the sight of his child standing in front of him with a bruised eye. He doesn't say anything as she drops the duffle bag she brought and instantly falls into his chest, crying heavily and shaking in his arms.

Sometime later on the couch, she explains how she got into an argument with her boyfriend, and in a fit of rage, he threw a punch before walking out of the apartment. Just hearing her retelling this and not being able to stop crying is what breaks Leon inside, having his daughter, whom he's tried so hard to protect from this world be a victim of abuse from someone who was supposed to love her hurts him greatly.

He blames himself for letting his daughter get hurt, for letting that bastard get anywhere near his angel and hurt her like this. Whispering apologies into his daughter's blonde hair, he cradled her close as he repeated "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry sweetheart".

Leon lets her stay in her old bedroom, tucking her into bed the way he used to when she was little and running his fingers through her hair as gently as he could. He knows you'll watch over her as she sleeps, and will probably slip into bed alongside her to hold her in your arms the way a mother should.

"I promise you, he's not going to hurt you ever again. I swear", Leon tells her, and his daughter believes him wholeheartedly. He gives you a knowing look as he walks out of the bedroom, and you don't try to stop him.

He takes his gun out from the locked safe in his closet, not sure when he last held it in his hand but the muscle memory quickly comes to him. Throwing on a jacket and grabbing his car keys, he got into his Jeep and headed on the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles were white. Maybe being on the road while he was seething and seeing red wasn't a good idea, but he had to handle this or he would never forgive himself.

A part of him thinks that he should get Hunnigan on the phone, should have her knock some sense into him, and tell his ass to turn the fuck around. But he doesn't, hitting the gas and imagining tearing off this man's head for laying a hand on the most precious thing he has in his life.

He doesn't remember the last time he was this pissed, and he certainly didn't know he could want to hurt someone when he had been so focused on saving others for most of his life. But he finds himself caring less and less about the consequences of his actions and doesn't feel guilty for wanting to do what he knows is necessary.

Justice is what Leon calls this, and it brings him back to his time studying for the police academy, how doing the right thing felt so fundamental to him that it was always a part of his character. He's doing this out of love, out of knowing his daughter will be safe from this monster, and that makes it right.

Yeah, that man better start praying, cause it might be the last time he gets to.

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