#and I don't want to fall for another idiot

[unluckilyimnot]

Question – sae x reader

Note: ok I had that in my draft for a while so here it is, small small os

m.list | rules

Sae was really talkative for once, not that he rarely talks around you – you literally live together – but it was still something that doesn't happen as often as you rather say. He just got on some new exercises and he felt the need to talk about it to his partner. Sweet.

Little did he know, you were focusing on something else at the moment, which happened to be another thing he doesn't do much : cooking without a shirt on. Like, you get that it's the middle of the summer, that it's really hot in Japan during this period and that cooking makes you even hotter. On another day, you could easily pass through it and listen to him mindlessly. Today wasn't one of them.

You were a little too busy scanning the way his muscles tense at each move, noticing new ones every once in a while and you kinda were fascinated by it. His waist was absent, lost –deserved a wanted poster – and it was such a shame, but you'd rather die than complain about your boyfriend's looks and body. He looked like he was carved in marble like the Greek did, like the lines of his face were drawn by some European painter. Your eyes lingered longer and longer, focusing either on his back muscles, the small details on the side of his face – the line his eyes followed rather than answering back. Your eyes got back to his back, noticing the small white mark on his lower back. You've never noticed that before.

He's not an idiot. Well, he kinda is, but not when you're the subject. If there is one thing he's as confident as in football, it's you – he knows you by heart can answer in a heartbeat to any of your needs. He knows you're the talkative one, so once he noticed your lack of answer he stole a glance behind him, finding you mesmerized by his back.

"Are you even listening to me ?" he asked unimpressed, not even turning around.

"I am." Your voice is low, dreamy, which is enough to prove that you weren't really listening.

"Quote me what I just said ?" Turning around with an eyebrow lift, he leaned his hands on the counter.

You don't look up immediately to answer, your eyes lingered on his forearm for a second.

"More importantly, did you always have that scar on your lower back ? I've never seen it before..." You finally looked him in the eyes, yours shining with curiosity.

You catch his piercing blue eyes staring at you the same way you just did, staring like he's about to eat you alive and he's still deciding where to start. His arms crossed over his chest, and your eyes followed the movement closely. He narrowed his eyes slightly, before cutting through your thoughts before they could have a form.

"I do. I got it from a fight with Rin. Another question ? Or can you answer mine ?"

You're left speechless, your mouth hanging open. His voice so smooth, matching his unbothered yet frustrated face and his eyes. Oh his eyes. You wish you could drown in it. Sometimes you forget how handsome he is, but you're always reminded real fast – he just has to look your way for your heart to skip a beat. Not even that, honestly, being in the same room as him is enough for you to fall in love all over again.

By the time you took to answer, he shook his head. He can't be mad at you when you stare at him with so much love and adoration, can he ? Taking a few steps to meet you, both his hands laid on the counter you were sitting on.

"Next time, ask your question then listen to me. Alright ?" His tone is commanding yet soft, and you couldn't help but get turned on.

You could feel a hot feeling on your cheeks but you couldn't tear your eyes away from his, or even mutter a proper sentence at the moment. Turning your face away to compose yourself, you nodded, sure he would brush it away and you'll get away with it. Yet, you felt slander fingers grabbing your chin gently right away and turning your face right to face him again. His eyes stared deep into your soul, enough to make it shake and your spine shiver.

"Understand ?" He asked once again, gentle this time, the grip on your cheeks loosening slightly.

"Yes," you whispered, not talking louder, in fear he'll go away like a scared cat.

"Good," he answered before pecking your lips.

He moved back to his cooking, his talk long forgotten, while you were still processing the feather like kiss ghosting on your lips.

Let me know if you liked it !!

[cinnamoqnscent]

⋆˚꩜｡ Megumi can’t sleep and needs your help ⋆˚꩜｡ {FLUFF}

You were sleeping peacefully in your dorm. There was currently a storm happening so you were bundled up with blankets and pillows, but the sound of your door creaking open woke you up.

That sound of the door opening and the fact that it was pitch black in your room, made your senses go haywire, and without thinking you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at whatever or whoever was in your room.

“Hey-what the- it’s just me! jesus” you heard megumi whisper yell at you in quite an annoyed manor after he was hit in the face with a pillow. “Gumi?” you whispered in a confused state, “who else would it be?” he said dryly.

A second later you felt your bed dip, “why are you in my dorm at….2:45am” you looked over at the clock on your nightstand, "couldn't sleep..” you heard the boy mumble quietly.

“Why couldn’t you sleep? You okay megs?” you ask still half delirious “yea, im fine..just couldn’t just my mind to shut up..” he mumbled while rubbing his neck. The rain was still hammering outside making it feel like the dorm was shaking.

“You sleep like a rock, you know that right?” He said with no emotion.

“atleast i can sleep” you grumbled in response, you could hear him scoff, you could almost feel the unamused face he was giving you even in the dark. “Yeah yeah whatever” you could feel him moving around on the foot of your bed.

“Can I stay here for a bit? Until I'm tired enough to go back to my room..or i can leave if you want” He asked sheepishly, almost afraid you would shun him away.

“Sure megs” you said as you sat up and turned on the fairy lights you had around your bed, illuminating the room into a soft warm hue. He watched as you turned on the fairy lights, his eyes adjusting to the soft glow. The tiredness in his gaze seemed to ease a little, replaced by a hint of comfort from the familiar view of your face, filled with sleep and messy bed hair.

He let out another exhausted sigh, rubbing his temples as he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Thanks..." He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he slowly relaxed his body.

“Do you wanna talk till you feel tired enough or… im not sure actually.” you laughed a little. He hummed in thought, considering your question for a moment before he shrugged in a tired manner. Part of him wouldn't mind talking, but the other part just wanted to shut his brain off.

"I don't know..."*He admitted, his gaze finding you in the dimly lit room. The soft light from the fairy lights on your bed made you look... almost surreal.

"Maybe just ramble something? I just wanna hear your voice for a while,"

“Mm’mm okay..” you yawned softly. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips as your yawn filled the room. He found it amusing how you could be so sleepy, yet still be so willing to talk just to help him out. He relaxed even further, shifting to lean more against the wall, his eyes never leaving you.

You slowly went on a tangent on anything you could think of..this consisted of conspiracy theories like aliens and Micheal Jackson still being alive, Yuji acting like an idiot earlier today, how gojo fell over and spilt his sweets everywhere. anything you could think of really.

Megumi listened to your ramblings and it was just the perfect distraction he needed. Your voice was soothing and it was easy to get lost in your words, and he just liked looking at your pretty face although he would never admit that.

The dark-haired boy found himself smiling faintly as you continued to talk about different things.

He couldn't help but be amused by your retelling of the day's events, especially the bit about Gojo tripping over.

"How did he fall this time?" He asked with a hint of amusement and disbelief in his tone.

“Panda said that he fell over his own feet” you giggled to yourself.. The mental image of the man tripping over his own feet made Megumi laugh.

You stopped talking for a second before opening your mouth, “Megumii you're so far away..” you whined a little at the realisation that your boyfriend was basically on the end of the bed, He could basically be in antarctica he was that far away.

He noticed the slight pout in your voice, and his eyebrow curled curiously.

"I'm barely a meter away, you know," He responded, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Yeah yeah that’s basically lightyears away. come here” you patted the pillow or mounting’s of pillows next to you. Megumi chuckled at your dramatic statement of him being 'light years' away. It wasn't even that far, just the side of the bed, but he still found it amusing.

He rolled his eyes lightly before crawling over to the 'mountain' of pillows and blankets you had gestured towards.

"You're such a drama queen," He teased in a half-serious tone, his voice filled with playful affection as he settled down next to you. Almost as soon as he settled down in your bird's nest of a bed you flopped on him, in a blink of an eye, your arms were around his waist and one of your legs was over his lap, you had trapped him. Megumi's eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly flopped on top of him, trapping him in your embrace. He had barely had time to react before your arms were around him and one of your legs was draped over his lap. He let out a soft grunt as you landed on him, caught off guard by your unexpected move.

"Hey-!" He exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and annoyance in his tone. He tried to sound irritated, but the way he instinctively wrapped his arms around you betrayed him.

“You're the one in my bed” you mumbled, your cheek pressed up against his shirt.

He felt your cheek press against his chest and the warmth of your body against him. It was weirdly... comfortable. He hated to admit it, but being like this, with you this close, wasn't as terrible as he'd expected. "Fair point," He mumbled back, his arms tightening just slightly around you.

The soothing sound of rain and the comforting environment of your room seemed to work their magic on Megumi. His fatigue, mixed with the warmth of your body against him, slowly began to take over. His breathing became slow and rhythmic, his eyelids heavy.

As he drifted off into sleep, he unconsciously pulled you closer, nestling you firmly against his chest. His arms remained wrapped around you, his hold protective and possessive even in his sleep.

You woke up the next morning to Nobara hovering over the two of you while giggling and taking photos.

[gremlin-girly]

Comic Relief

Characters: Alexei Shostakov x gn!reader (platonic), Thunderbolt!reader, The Thunderbolts

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, copied or put through an AI machine. All of my work is 18+ Read at your own risk.

Tags/warnings: A smidgen of angst, fluff, canon typical violence, Little Bolt as a nickname haha

Summary: As the newest member of the team, you don't believe Alexei is as dumb as everyone thinks he is.

Word count: tba on mobile

Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: 💀 Might make a part 2 to this but I have so many WIPs right now. I had a tower fic in mind for this but wasn't sure which way to go. It may cross over with it eventually.

A/N2: Ignore that this was posted without being edited last night 😅🥴

Main Masterlist

Goofy is probably the first word that comes to mind when describing Alexei. Followed by big, loud and (according to Yelena) annoying.

However, as the newest member of the team you can pick up on things that the others take for granted. And you begin to suspect that perhaps Alexei isn't as dumb as everyone thinks he is.

For example, his ability to make the team bond together.

Team Game Night usually devolved into some kind of argument, usually between Walker and Yelena, although surprisingly Bob was sometimes subject to a competitive streak. Game night had been Alexei's idea, however, you began to notice that he'd do well in whatever game it was to begin with and then lose spectacularly via a dumb mistake. More often than not, he would sacrifice himself so Yelena would win and his face would light up as she excitedly boasted in John's face.

If the night got too heated, Alexei would stand up, gather the New Avengers together in his hulking arms and squeeze them tight in a bear hug until they called down. It was a sigh to behold and one you couldn't help but think was needed.

One night, after another spectacularly dramatic loss from Alexei, you pulled him on it in the kitchen afterwards.

"I know you know you could have won," You whisper. "Why do you do it?"

"Ehhh," He shrugs. "The kids need comic relief and I am the best comedian." He's grinning, still trying to act aloof, but you can see in his eyes that there's something a little deeper beneath the surface.

You nod and say nothing more, not wanting to push but the thought stays in the back of your mind.

"God, you're an idiot."

John's temper flared after a pretty bad night fighting the newest, baddest villain in town and he wasn't the only one to be angry.

"Dad, why would you think to do that?" Yelena sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You could have gotten us killed. You need to stop trying to play hero."

"Yeah, not all of us are super soldiers." Ava grumbles.

"Welcome home!" Bob exclaims, face falling when he takes in everyone's grumpy, beaten faces. "O-Oh no. What happened?"

"Don't wanna talk about it." John huffs past him, leaving Bob confused.

You watch silently as everyone disperses to wind down but hang back for Alexei. He looks like a kicked puppy as he removes his helmet and, thinking back to the fight, images flash through your mind. You quickly realise that had Alexei not done what he had done, the team would have been crushed by a metal beam - however, he had played it off as him picking it up so as to not freak them out about your imminient deaths and protecting the surrounding civillians.

"Hey," you say softly. "You okay?"

"I am Boo Boo the Fool." Alexei says dejectedly, kicking off his boots. "Joke of my country. Joke of my family."

"No, you're not." You tell him sincerely, though his phrasing makes your lips twitch upwards.

"Lena is right." He shrugs. "I am no hero."

"Alexei." Your voice is soft but firm and you put a comforting hand on his gigantic bicep. He looks up to see you smiling at him. "What you did today - those people you saved - they think you're a hero."

"They do?"

"Yep." You nod before adding, "And so do I."

Alexei's expression immediately brightens. "You do?"

It's tighter than it needs to be and you're unsure if he's trying to show off his strength or crush you with cuteness-aggression but either way you think you snap a rib.

"Thank you Little Bolt." He says as he places you back on your feet, gold tooth flashing in the lighting above. "You know exactly what to say."

Another day, another fight. Except this time, Alexei is the last one standing.

Yelena, Ava, John, Bucky and you are disarmed amd tied up, unable to fight back. Ava and Yelena are wrapped in chains, Ava too close to Yelena to phase out without causing her serious harm and Bucky and John have lost a metal arm and taco-shield - leaving them vulnerable to tranquiliser bullets. You, on the other hand, are trying to kick your way from a henchman after being handcuffed - leaving Alexei as the last man standing.

"Who even let you join?" The villain of the week sneers. "You're an ingrate. Your friends and daughter will die because you're incompetent. What do you even offer this team? Comic relief?"

"I am mother goose." Alexei nods sagely. "Someone has to protect my goslings from themselves."

If John could roll his eyes, he would be and you bet Bucky would do one of his character sighs. As Yelena and Ava continue to fight at the chains, you do what you have always done; watch.

"You're a nobody." Villain dissmisses. "No one will remember you, canon fodder. You've lost one daughter, now you will lose another."

You can see the subtle shift in Alexei's demeanour, the way his eyes quickly lose their mirth while his goofy grin remains plastered to his face. Most importantly, you notice how he very slowly, sets his body into a rigid fighting stance.

Alexei isn't playing anymore.

It all happens so quickly you barely see it. Despite Alexei's size and mass, he moves horrifyingly fast. He usually charged in with a battle cry; excitable for battle just like a certain axe-wielding blond you happen to know, but this wasn't a fair fight anymore. As soon as his daughter's life - daughters' lives - were mentioned, all intentions of a good old fashioned beat 'em up brawl were off the table. No punches would be pulled. No bones unbroken.

This was indomitable spirit.

This was the Red Guardian.

The villain was held easily five feet from the ground, Alexei's bear-paw of a hand squeezing his throat so hard his face had gone purple and his eyes looked like they were ready to pop from his skull. The villain squirmed and smacked at the trunk of an arm that held him in vain, pleading with the darkness in Alexei's eyes, clearly terrified and surprised at the shift in what he'd mistakenly thought was an oaf. The henchman that had been trying to get at you also stops dead to watch the spectacle, and you take the opportunity to land a boot to his chin.

"You don't speak about my daughters." Alexei growls.

Even Yelena and Ava and stopped fighting their bonds to watch on in shock as Alexei hurls the villain to the opposite side of the room with ease, rushing over to the two women and snapping the chains with his hands.

"Are you two okay?" Alexei asks, checking them both over quickly.

"'M okay."

"Fine, dad."

The villain's body slides across the floor, crunching when it slams against the concrete wall, and he groans in agony.

You join them, hands now free courtesy of your captors keys, and look over at the sad, crumpled pile of dark clothes.

"You couldn’t have done that sooner?" You joke and Alexei beams, standing tall and proud.

"Where is the fun in that, Little Bolt?"

END

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[mooningningg]

"ᴛʀᴇꜱʜᴏʟᴅ"

—In which JJk Men Tell You to Leave in a Fight… and You Actually Do.

gojo, sukuna, suguru, and choso

genre, angst. notes, IM BACKKKK.

"You always do this," you snapped. "You make a joke, act like none of this matters, and when I finally break down about it, I’m the problem."

Gojo Satoru — “So just leave, then.”

Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed like he wasn’t cracking inside.

"You're making it bigger than it is."

"Because you don't care," you said, voice low. "You never fight for anything. Not really."

He scoffed. Rolled his eyes. Then: "So just leave, then. If it's that bad."

You went silent. And he froze.

You turned away, grabbed your bag, and headed for the door — slow but certain, like you’d been preparing for this moment in your heart for a while.

By the time the door opened, he snapped out of it.

"Wait—" He was already following you into the hall, barefoot, heart racing. “Wait. Fuck, okay — I didn’t mean that. Please just—wait a second.”

You didn’t stop walking.

"Let’s just talk, sweetheart. Just for a second—”

He reached out, but you stepped farther away.

"I’m done talking, Satoru."

And then you were gone. Down the steps. Out the front door.

Gojo stood in the cold night air, still calling your name long after the echo stopped answering him.

Sukuna — “Don’t walk away from me!”

"I’m not doing this anymore," you muttered, grabbing your jacket off the chair.

"You never meet me halfway. You mock me when I’m upset, and I’m tired of being in love with someone who only loves me when it’s easy."

Sukuna stood by the window, jaw tight.

"You’re not walking out over this."

"No. I’m walking out because you think I won’t."

You opened the door.

"Don’t you fucking dare—" he snapped, crossing the room in two strides.

You were already halfway down the hall when he bellowed after you:

"Don’t walk away from me!"

You didn’t look back.

The door slammed behind you. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles popped.

"Stupid. Fucking. Idiot."

He swore under his breath, pacing like a caged animal, hand dragging down his face.

A beat passed. Then another.

And suddenly he was storming out the door, steps fast, heart faster — chasing after the one person he swore he'd never lose control over.

Choso Kamo — “Wait—please.”

"I know I’m not perfect," he said, frustrated, "but I never asked you to fix me."

You turned slowly. "I wasn’t trying to fix you, Choso. I was trying to love you."

The silence that followed was worse than yelling.

He didn’t chase you at first. Just stood there, helpless, as you grabbed your things. The hurt in your face said it all — you'd been hoping he’d stop you. That he'd try.

And just when you reached the front door, you heard it.

"Wait—"

His voice cracked.

Then the sound of footsteps — and suddenly his hand was around your wrist, gentle but firm. You turned, and he pulled you into his chest like he needed to feel your heartbeat to believe he hadn’t already lost you.

"Don’t go. Please."

Your face pressed against his hoodie. His arms wrapped tight around you.

He smelled like cedar and faint cologne and every memory you didn’t want to leave behind.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

He just held you there like the world would fall apart if he let go.

Suguru Geto — “Don’t.”

"You’re not even here half the time, Suguru."

You were trembling — not with anger, but something worse. Disappointment.

"I keep showing up, and all I get is silence."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m trying, alright?"

"Trying isn’t enough when I feel like I’m doing this alone."

You turned, heading for the door — but his hand shot out before you could reach it. Gripping your wrist, not tightly, just enough to stop you.

"Don’t."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

You looked at him. Really looked.

And he was scared.

"You’re not good at this," you said softly. "And I’m tired of bleeding myself dry to fill the spaces you keep empty."

You pulled your wrist from his grasp.

His hand dropped to his side like it weighed too much to hold.

And then you walked out, even as his lips parted, even as he took one step forward and couldn’t seem to take another.

The door clicked shut.

And he stood alone in the dark — in a home that didn’t feel like home anymore.

[quimichi]

₊❏❜ ⋮ AJAW IS YOUR BESTIE & KINICH HAS A CRUSH ON YOU ⌒ pt.2 ◇, 3. ◇

□ Ajaw is obviously difficult to deal with lol. So the fact that he is somehow in some way nice to you is basically a miracle

■ No one knows what caught his attention and why he's in a way nicer to you than others he just is. And lemme tell you, being bestie with the pixilated flying attitude is fun

□ he's always around Kinich so you bet your always around Kinich too. Sometimes he just leaves Ajaw at your place lol like pls babysit this thing-

■ Ajaw is an asshole but he's not an asshole asshole yk? He is more than just aware of Kinichs crush on you and he does tease him a lot about it. Makes comments and all that stuff. You would immediately get it tho if you're not dense

□ he's using his knowledge about you and tells Kinich. Kinda wants you two together a lot cause--you're his bestie and being with you all the time would be better than with Kinich 💀

■ "You friendless idiot I told you they liked the crackers! Are you so dense that you ignore my perfect advise?! I could woo a leaf up better than you another human being!"

"The only thing you 'wooed' up are punches from everyone you encounter."

□ bestie is not afraid to throw shade around lol. Yes he wants you and Kinich together but he wants to make him look like the biggest idiot ever-and himself obviously the best thing you will ever have in your life. Ego to 100

■ "Y/n-! Did you know, that when Kinich has a hard time falling asleep he thinks of you and jer--KINICH WHAAA YOU ASSHO--!"

"Sorry about that, he's in a rather bad mood today. Don't worry about it."

□ "Just go and talk to them! They're really nice and likable, unlike you."

"It's not as easy as you think."

"Whats the hard part huh? Walking over or speaking, cause I know you look stupid doing both."

[yanyannica]

it's not like ushijima wakatoshi to get jealous over anything, but the one time you heavily suspect he does...

"oh? you jealous?"

your tall hunk of a boyfriend stares you down with a mild crease between his eyebrows. you stare back just as intensely with a dopey grin, waiting for an admission from your ever-stoic boyfriend.

it's not everyday you get to see him react like this, so you practically jump the opportunity.

you watch tentatively as he brings up a hand to his chest, clutching his shirt as his gaze drops to the ground — expression stoned not much unlike a rock as he contemplates your words. he never fails to look so serious.

"...am i?"

the blatant confusion on his face couldn't be any more funnier, and you had to stifle your laugh into your hand lest you hurt his feelings.

you really should've known better — of course he wouldn't know what to call it even if it slapped him in the face. we were talking about the guy who went up to you during a random tuesday and confessed that he had an constant urge to kiss you, and innocently asked if you knew anything about it like he was inquiring about homework.

(for an entire week before you officially got together, you had to convince him that no — you were most definitely not hypnotizing him.)

"you're such an idiot, you know?" you nudge his side teasingly, leaning your weight against him as you struggle to keep your giggles at bay.

your hulk of a boyfriend is way too adorable sometimes.

"i'm not quite sure what jealousy feels like. my apologies."

you grimace a bit at his response, now hyper-aware of the way his athletic body feels against your side.

he's never had to be jealous of anything because everyone else is busy being jealous of him!

you pout at him, before poking his side. softly, of course. you might break a finger or two if you went any harder.

you turn back to the matter at hand before it completely derails — you need full details on this rare side of him. "well, what did it feel like when you saw me talking to that guy?"

ushijima takes a moment before his eyes clear up.

"something felt weird here," he gently patted the spot over his heart and your eyes widen in surprise, pulling away to look at him more firmly. "like it got pinched. it didn’t hurt physically, but it made me... sad."

your heart clenches, hard. you swear you heard it crack within your chest too. oh my god. it was one hundred percent your fault! no questions asked!

you reach out to his arms as your eyes turn glassy, "oh, baby. i'm so sor —"

"my muscles contracted by themselves too, like how it feels when i want to hit a spike."

... ha?

your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. the romantic air disperses in a matter of miliseconds, crashing down to earth.

a spike?!

what the hell? well, good thing you kept the conversation short, or else that guy would've had his head blown off...

a shudder runs down your spine.

you sweat profusely at his profound statement, "n-next time you feel bothered by something like that, make sure you approach me first before doing anything, okay?" for safety purposes!

ushijima blinks at you, completely none the wiser to your inner turmoil.

"alright," he pauses, as if there's something else he wants to say, contemplating it for a few moments before speaking up again. "i don't like feeling jealous. is that a bad thing?"

reallyyyyy such a baby. your baby.

"i'm really sorry for making you feel that way, toshi," leaning up on your tippy toes, you coerce him to lean down into your hold — placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "you do know that you're the only one i have eyes for, yes?"

he nods affirmatively, like an obedient child heeding their parents' words like it's gospel.

"you trust me, right?"

another truthful nod of approval. you sigh in utter relief as you let him go for him to resume his practice, satisfied at how you were able to prevent a major crisis from occurring.

"i will make sure to consult you first before spiking."

you feel a tear form.

"toshi — baby, no —"

oh toshi yes */smirks deviously

[gaykarstaagforever]

YouTube has this thing now called YouTube Playables (great name as usual, guys; it's not a children's snack pack), that are basically in-app "Flash games"-style things that are just enough game to keep you watching ads.

The ones of these that aren't direct ripoffs of owned IP (very specifically Zuma) are barebones exercises in that bog-standard FTP addictive mobile gaming loop we all know and hate but also LOVE, minus the in-app purchases (for the time being). Like, shallow systems that are fun for exactly 30 minutes, then get stupidly hard so you'll pay to win, though you can't do that yet, so...kind of pointless.

...I still spent FOUR HOURS playing these, because they tapped into my primitive lizard brain's desire to try and master an utterly meaningless task and then feel undooly smug about it.

I didn't get any ads, because I'm a stooge that pays real money to Google every month for this, because once you go adless, you CANNOT go back. Which kind of negates the whole point of these, as addictive time-wasters that keep you glued to the platform and its commercials? But I already pay for YouTube and STILL got caught in these, so I suppose everything is going according to YouTube's plan either way, and I need meaningful human relationships.

But THAT isn't going to happen any time soon! So let me waste another evening on these by reviewing some crap garbage games for idiots that no one cares about, on Tumblr dot com!

1. Totemia: Cursed Marbles

It's Zuma. That's it. With a couple minor tweaks that make it harder and more annoying.

Just license Zuma, YouTube. I think you can afford the, what, $25 that would cost atm?

2. Sword Play

An on-rails sword slashing game (you don't control the movement, just the slashing), and you kill plastic doll guys before they kill you.

At some point they get projectiles that move really fast, that you can only destroy via specific directional QTEs that don't register properly half the time, because this is all relative finger smearing across the screen.

It was fun before that. The guys fall apart specific to how you slash them. That's something.

3. Dessert DIY

This one sucks. You're just picking from very limited options, then doing specific motions to trigger animations that create desserts that don't even look much like the promo art. People request different things, but early game all they ask for is "whatever you want to make" and "do one out of poop with bugs on it to make someone I hate throw up."

And then there's an animation of someone accepting what is obviously poop with bugs on it from their sworn enemy, they eat it anyway, then vomit.

The only fun part about this is the shameless inclusion of NPCs that look like celebrities, specifically Billie Eilish, Kanye West, and Donald Trump.

If you want to make a poop ice cream cone with bugs on it and feed it to Trump until he vomits all over his desk, this is the game for you. Otherwise, this is meh even for one of these meh games.

4. Bowmasters

Dueling Angry Birds, but you have no control of the camera and it focuses on you so you have to trial-and-error the degree of angle and throwing force to figure out how to hit and kill your opponent before they hit and kill you.

There are many colorful pop culture-inspired combatants to unlock, with a huge variety of projectiles of different weights, sizes, and behaviors. This is the most "very nearly a real, good game" one of these.

...Except that the level progression forces you to do Bonus Rounds, and one of those is "knock fruit off the head of an opponent without hitting them, and you have to do this like 5 times in a row, and we move you further away from them another 30 yards every round, and you have to use a wildly different unique projectile every round, and you get 3 chances, and that includes if you miss entirely."

It is basically impossible to do this, because your ever-changing location makes calculating arcs and force, with the ever-changing projectiles, impossible, in this limited amount of attempts. It turns into grinding it out until RNG randomly makes you win.

Which is a shame, because otherwise, this is fun. But you WILL get stuck on a stupid fruit round and stop playing this.

5. Mob Control

You have a cannon that launches blue guys. The NPC opponent does red. You both are trying to bumrush the other's base, taking advantage of buttons and switches and bonus gates that speed you up or slow you down and multiply your number of guys. Guys annihilate each-other when they run into each-other, so you need to overwhelm Red before they overwhelm you.

It's fun until it gets so fast that it becomes a chore to manage where precisely to launch guys specifically to annihilate other guys.

6. Merge Master

This goddamn game. This was 3.5 hours of my 4 hour playtime.

You have a grid board, with you at the bottom and an opponent at the top. You both have an army of warriors and dinosaurs, and a team HP bar. You click go, the warriors fire projectiles and the dinosaurs melee the nearest enemy, and last man standing wins.

Before each round, you can arrange the placement of your army, and use money you won from the last rounds to buy more warriors and dinosaurs. But the kicker is, you can combine like warriors and dinosaurs to make more powerful units, which you keep at the end of every round. They don't gain XP or anything, but as you make more money, you can buy more 1st-level units (that's all you can buy), and gradually combine them and then combine the combinations, and on and on and on, making incredibly powerful new units. And you need a mix of low-level and high-level units to have enough melee dinosaurs and projectile-throwers to overwhelm high-level enemy units, or draw fire away from your own, against the ever-changing enemy army each round.

It's a process of slowly adding more units and combining them to make stronger and stronger units, and as many of them as you can get, accounting for the limited board space. Also the price of units rises exponentially each round, so you may have 1 trillion gold, but at this point a new 1st-level dinosaur costs 245 billion.

I couldn't stop with this. It just got me. I wanted to see new exciting high-level warriors and dinosaurs, and see how fast I could take the other army down. There's more than zero strategy at work here, and battles can vary substantially from round to round, depending on what mix of units the enemy brings to the board.

It's still a rudimentary Flash-esque game, and very much akin to those shitty mobile boss rush games that raid our shadow legends. But it's not PTW yet, and the graphics are a charming and distorted replica of early 2000s 3D games, like Age of Mythology or GTA 3. It felt like something, for awhile.

It isn't, and I wasted valuable battery charge on this stupid shit. But I was having fun. And sometimes, that's enough.

...And posting about it here. It's something to talk about that isn't the world eating itself.

And we all need that sometimes.

[spideyjimin]

Break my heart | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, kind of friends to enemies, and enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: jungkook, a mask, and a party. three things that made you weak enough to break all the rules of friendship. you did with him what you usually do with strangers… but he was never supposed to be a one-night stand. there’s too much history. too much comfort. and now, the aftermath of that wild and steamy night has made living with him unbearable, but also impossible to walk away. because you’re falling. fast. deep. and maybe deep enough to let each other break your own hearts.

—  words: 535 for the teaser

—  warnings: tension, flirting, strong language, and implied sex

—  author’s note: soooo i've already worked on this & i'm posting the little teaser to give you a little taste of what's coming 🫣 this is the college au i teased you about some time ago & i've been working on it for a little while, but i don't know when it's going to be released. this fics is inspired by many shows and movies i've watched lately (because i've done only that for the past 2 months 😫) i hope you'll enjoy it ❤️

— you can find another teaser here

— join the taglist ✨

“Will you be home at two?” you ask as he walks past you.  

“Why?” he says, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk like he couldn’t care less.

“Some guy is coming,” you answer, your eyes following his strong figure.

You watch his muscles flex as he reaches for a glass. It’s almost unfair how someone so infuriating can look that good. Buff. Strong. Dangerous in all the right ways. If he weren’t such an asshole, you might just let him ruin you again.

“Who?” he asks without looking at you.  

“Why do you want to know?” you counter, eyes glued on him.

He avoids your gaze, pouring the milk like the carton suddenly became fascinating.

“Because you’re the one talking about it,” he mumbles

A devious smirk grows on your face as you step closer—dangerously close now. He straightens up, facing you, eyes finally locking with yours.

“Are you looking for a guy?” you ask, cocking your head with a teasing grin.

“What?” his scowl is immediate, and you try as hard as possible to repress the smile growing on your face.  

You almost laugh at his expression. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile him up. But you hold it in. No cracks. Not yet. You're about to push him further. Annoying him is your new favorite pastime.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” you tease him.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking his milk. Otherwise, he would have choked. His brows draw together, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not gay,” he says flatly, casually even, but his tone is clipped.

“Jungkook,” you shrug innocently. “You can be whoever you want. I support you, bestie.”

He rolls his eyes and drinks a sip of milk from the cup. Despite being annoyed, his heart skips a beat when you call him ‘bestie’. He hasn’t heard that nickname since that infamous night. You’ve called him jerk, asshole, idiot, stupid, fuckboy, dickhead, and many other things like that for the past three weeks.

“Why are you insisting?”

A little mustache of milk forms on his upper lip when he removes the cup. He looks absolutely adorable, like a little boy trapped in the body of a man who could destroy you with a single touch.

“Because I get it,” you smile. “I like men too.”

He wipes the milk mustache off with the back of his hand, but this time, the playful glint in his eyes disappears. He’s serious now.

“Stop it, yn,” his voice is sharp, like a warning. “You know I don’t like men.”

“Me?” you pretend to be innocent. “I don’t know anything. You’re very mysterious lately.”

Without a warning, he steps closer—your heart hammers in your chest with this sudden proximity. The air thickens between you, and you feel his hot and minty breath against your cheek. This reminds you of that wild night in the ballroom

“Yes, you do,” he whispers, voice dropping into something husky. His lips graze your ear. “And if you’ve forgotten, I can remind you.”

His fingers brush your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can make you moan my name again…” he pauses for a split second. “Or scream it, if you’d prefer.”

[ivyues]

Reunited Moments: Stray Kids’ reactions to seeing their S/O after a long time

Bang Chan

The moment Chris sees you, his eyes widen in disbelief before softening with overwhelming emotion. A breath catches in his throat as he takes a step forward, then another – until he’s practically running.

"Y/N..." he whispers.

Before you can even respond, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, as if making sure you're really there. His warmth engulfs you, and you feel the way his fingers clutch the fabric of your shirt, refusing to let go. His chest rises and falls unevenly, and when you tilt your head up, you notice the slight shimmer in his eyes.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

A tear escapes, but he doesn’t care. He kisses you gently, his lips soft against yours as though he’s afraid you might slip away again. His kiss deepens, letting himself believe that finally, finally, you're back in his arms.

Lee Know

As soon as Minho sees you, he freezes, his lips pressing into a firm line. His arms cross over his chest as he shifts his weight, trying to play it cool.

"Took you long enough," he mutters, looking away, but the way his fingers twitch at his sides gives him away.

You smile, stepping closer, and that’s when his façade cracks. Before you can even tease him, he sighs in defeat and pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“…Idiot. I missed you," he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. His grip on you tightens for a second before he quickly pulls back. "Don’t disappear like that again," he adds.

Even as he tries to regain his composure, his hands linger on your waist, unwilling to let you go just yet.

The rest of the day, Minho doesn’t let you stray too far. No matter where you go, he’s right there, a little too close, always glancing at you like he’s making sure you’re still within arm’s reach.

Changbin

The moment Changbin lays his eyes on you, his face lights up with pure joy. "Y/N!" he shouts, already moving towards you at full speed. Before you can even react, he scoops you up, spinning you around in the air as laughter bubbles out of you.

“I missed you so much!” he exclaims. The world blurs around you, but all you can focus on is his bright smile and the way his arms feel so secure around you.

When he finally sets you down, he immediately pulls you into another bone-crushing hug, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe.

"Binnie—I can't breathee!" you gasp, laughing while patting his shoulder.

"Shh, just a little longer," he mumbles against your shoulder, refusing to let go. You feel his arms tighten slightly as if he's afraid you'll disappear again. "I don't wanna let go yet."

And honestly, neither do you.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin stops in his tracks the moment he sees you. His eyes go wide, his breath hitching as he stares like he's seeing a ghost.

"No way…" he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. He even blinks a few times before looking at you again. "Is this real? Am I dreaming?"

You laugh softly, taking a step closer. "I—I can't believe it," he says, voice trembling slightly.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics but smile nonetheless. "Yes, Hyunjin, I'm here. You can touch me if you want proof."

At that, he finally snaps out of it, rushing forward and pulling you into a desperate hug. His arms wrap tightly around you, his body molding against yours.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs, his voice quieter now as he simply holds you. 

You smile into his shoulder, squeezing him just as tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Han

The moment Han lays eyes on you, his expression shifts instantly – his playful smile falters, his lips part like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

The second he reaches you, he crashes into you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly it nearly knocks the breath out of you. His head buries into your shoulder, and that’s when you feel it – his quiet sniffles, the way his body trembles slightly against yours.

"You—" His voice cracks, and he grips you even tighter. "I was gone for so long…"

Your hands run soothingly through his hair as you hold him just as tightly, your own heart aching. Minutes pass, but Han doesn’t let go, as if making up for all the time spent apart.

“Just a little longer,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "As long as you need."

And so you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you willing to let go.

Felix

The moment Felix sees you, he completely freezes. His eyes widen, lips parting slightly as if he can’t believe you’re really there. Then, before he can stop it, his eyes glisten with tears.

You barely have time to react before the first tear rolls down his cheek. That’s all it takes for you to rush forward, closing the distance between you. The second your arms wrap around him, he melts into you, gripping onto you like you might disappear if he lets go.

A shaky sob escapes him as he buries his face into your shoulder, his whole body trembling against yours. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, his deep voice breaking with emotion. His hands clutch the back of your shirt tightly.

You rub his back soothingly, holding him just as tightly. “I’m here now, Lix,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his hair asyou feel a wetness on your own cheek.

You pull back, gently wiping away a tear from your face. “Hey, no fair. Now you’re making me cry too,” you tease, your voice light but full of warmth, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Seungmin

The moment Seungmin sees you, a playful smirk plays on his lips. But is gaze softens the moment he notices the glisten of tears in your eyes, replaced by an expression of concern.

You try to brush it off, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "Aren’t you gonna tease me for crying?" you ask, trying to laugh.

But instead of teasing you, Seungmin steps forward, his arms immediately enveloping you in a warm, reassuring hug. His grip is firm yet gentle, as if he’s trying to convey just how much he’s missed you without saying a word.

"Hey I'm not that mean," he murmurs softly, his voice quieter than usual. "I missed you, too, you know."

You rest your head on his chest, the warmth and comfort of his embrace enough to make everything feel okay again.

I.N

The moment Jeongin sees you, his entire face lights up with pure joy. His bright smile spreads across his lips, his eyes crinkling with excitement as he practically bounces towards you.

"Y/N!" he exclaims as he rushes to you without a second thought.

Before you can even react, he pulls you into a warm hug, his arms wrapping securely around you. There's no hesitation, no shyness – just the sheer joy of having you back in his arms. He rocks you slightly from side to side, his laughter bubbling up like he can’t contain it.

"I missed you so much," he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you again!"

Seeing him this cheerful makes your heart swell, and you can’t help but smile just as brightly. “I think I do,” you say, squeezing him again.

masterlist

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141 (pt. 4)

You thought it was a mistake when someone called in reserving a party of 14 for a birthday. The voice on the other line assures you it is not, and that they'll be arriving at 7pm. You inform everyone.

"Who wid want a birthday in this shithole?"

Johnny gaffaued, spraying down some dishes.

"Probably just a prank call."

Kyle replied, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulders. But it wasn't a prank call. The first half of the party arrive and you and Gaz have to scramble to push tables together. It's overwhelming, everyone is talking all at once, demanding things left and right. Gaz swoops in to help deal with one half the table while you the other. The food comes out, leaving you to be able to sit in the back for a few minutes, talking to the guys about nothing. Walking back out, some older man was snapping his fingers at you, waving his arms as if they weren't the only fucking people in the joint.

"Steaks burnt to hell, remake it."

He slides the plate to you, making you catch it before it falls off the side of the table. You apologize profusely and send it back to the kitchen. Price raises an eyebrow,

"Looks fine to me."

He stares at the piece of charcoal on the plate.

"Fucks sake, lemme do it."

Simon grabs his shoulder and cooks another steak. You set it down infront of the old man, watching him take a bite. He throws his fork down,

"Still burnt. How hard is it to cook a fucking steak?"

You look at the plate, meats still pink in the middle. Apologize again and offer to remake it.

"No, don't bother. Jesus."

He stares daggers into you. You wring your hands nervously.

"Actually, everyone's food was shit. None of us should have to pay for this."

Your mouth goes dry. You look over your shoulder to meet eyes with Kyle at the bar. He immediately walks over.

"Everything alright?"

He puts on his nicest customer service voice and that charming smile that can melt anyone. Except this asshole apparently.

"No everything is not alright, this was the worst dining experience I've ever had! Everything came out wrong, and it all tastes like shit!"

Spit flies out from the mans mouth. Kyle stands between you and the customer, trying to diffuse the situation. And much to your horror, one by one, the table starts to leave. You try to say something but they ignore you.

"Go get Johnny."

You run back, trying to act casual in front of Simon and John while tugging Johnny by the sleeve. He looks down, concerned.

He's on the floor before you can finish telling him what happened,

"Ye'r gonnae have tae pay sir."

His tone is more firm than Gaz, arms crossed and looking down at the old man. You're almost in tears as you watch more of the table file out the door, you turn back to look at Gaz. He frowns, furious. There's a heated argument at the table, the old man is yelling now. Not at Kyle or Johnny, but the only person he wasn't afraid of; you. The commotion makes John and Simon step out. This idiot is gonna get himself killed. You can see the moment when the customer loses the fight in his eyes. Shuts right up as soon as Simon says,

"Problem?"

Like a fish out of water, all the old man does is open and close his mouth wordlessly.

"Grab the cheque."

You don't know who Simon said that to but you and Soap crash into each other turning around and walking to the POS system. Ghost gently grabs the bill from your shaky hands and shoves it into the customers chest,

"Cash only."

"I don't have cash."

"There's an ATM around the corner."

The old man nearly jumps out of his seat,

"Right. Be right back."

He rushes to the door, Kyle and John follow.

"Oh there's no need-"

"Making sure you don't get lost."

Kyle smiles, eyes dangerous. It's about five minutes when they're back, the old man placing some 20s down before complaining under his breath. Then he gets kicked out,

"I need my change!"

He looks over Johnny's shoulder, looking to you for help. You shrug, arms crossed. When the door closes you sigh, running fingers through your hair

"You alright, darling?"

Gaz asks, voice as sweet as ever, gentle hand on your face. You nod.

~

That evening was pleasant. More than that really. They pampered you, cooed and soothed you as you huffed and sniffled. Ran you a hot bath,

"Poor thing, dinnae deserve tha."

Johnny massaged shampoo into your hair.

"Won't let you stay around next time we deal with something like that again."

Kyle kneaded the tension out your shoulders. John sat you in his lap, brushing hair out of your face while saying sweet nothings. You really do enjoy milking this for all it's worth, sad eyes looking up and huffing like you didn't get over that bullshit as soon as that old man walked out the door.

"Pampered little princess, you know that?"

Simon's lips are pressed up to your neck, just under your ear. You just nod, his words rattling around your brain while you got fucked senseless. You're tired, but the boys promised to coax an orgasm out of you. From each one of them. Then another. Well, you're a trooper, so what's one more round? Showered with soft kisses and praise, a foolish smile is painted across your face in a pleasurable state of stupor; Gosh, aren't you just spoiled rotten?

**sorry if it's short! I am on holiday ( ╥ω╥ )**

[ebodebo]

Dinner, Dinner!

—jason misses your anniversary dinner, but makes it up to you… MDNI

"Would you like to browse our dessert menu, madam?" The waiter asks in a thick French accent as he stretches his arm out to pour your second glass of wine.

Your brain is fogged as your fingers fiddle with the stem of the glass as you swirl the crimson liquid around, splashing all sides of the glass. 

"Madam?" The waiter repeats. You hadn't even realized you hadn't answered his previous question. You flick your eyes to his.

"I…um—sorry, can you repeat the question?" Your mind is clouded with a storm of fury and hurt. Jason, your boyfriend, had forgotten your anniversary dinner, leaving you to endure the sympathetic glances of strangers as they noticed the empty seat across from you.

"Of course, madam. I asked if you would like to see the dessert menu," the waiter repeats, his voice a distant echo. You turn your head to the empty seat in front of you, the thought of enduring the restaurant's atmosphere a daunting prospect. 

"Could I just have the cremé brûlée?" You finally ask, your eyes still fixed on the empty seat, your voice trembling slightly. "In a to-go box, please."

It was the first dessert you and Jason shared at this very restaurant, three years ago today. 

"Of course," the waiter said curtly, turning slightly before you raised your voice.

"And, um, could you take the other wine glass?" You awkwardly ask. He simply nods again, carefully placing the stem between his index and middle fingers upside down before turning away to tend to another table.

You should just leave.

It was clear he wasn't coming.

A light smile etched into your face as the waiter set the to-go box with the fancy dessert. You carefully reached into your purse, steadily gripping your wallet to pay. The waiters brought his hands up, shaking his head side-to-side.

"Please. No payment is necessary, madam. Enjoy the dessert," he says kindly. You sniffle, a stray tear falling down your face. You nod gently, issuing a strained, 'Thank you.'

He curtly nods, turning to go back into the kitchen. You gather your things, including the dessert, and move to walk out of the front door.

Upon stepping outside, you are met with the cold Gotham air. Your dress even sways in the wind as you walk, and your heels clank against the pavement. 

The walk home wasn't too long, maybe six minutes or so, but God, did it feel like an eternity. All you could think about was how hurt and disappointed you were and what you would say to Jason when you inevitably saw him.

Your brain tried to conjure all the reasons he didn't show.

Did he forget, or did he purposefully not come?

Now, you knew it couldn't be the latter, Jason wasn't a dick. 

He was just an idiot. 

Your thoughts continued as you stuck your key in the lock and carefully twisted it to unlock your front door, pushing it open quickly.

You set your purse down on a table next to the door, glancing at a framed photo of you and Jason happily eating ice cream on Jason's birthday last year.

You felt sick.

You quickly flick your attention away as your eyes begin to well with hot tears, easing your way into the kitchen. You stand on the cold tile for a minute before getting a sudden inspiration rush.

You didn't want to think about him any longer tonight. You'd prepare a hot tea, watch a movie, or perhaps even read a good book. 

Yes. That sounded like a fine plan.

As you were steeping the leaves in hot water, a knock on the front door pulled your attention away. You left the bag to steep and returned to the door. Pulling the door open, you were met with Red Hood—aka your boyfriend, Jason—gripping a bouquet of fresh flowers.

You're tempted to slam the door in his pretty face, but you don't—not yet, anyway.

"I'm an asshole," he says, his voice distorted from his modulator. 

The sight was ridiculous; if you weren't so pissed, you'd laugh.

He realizes the absurdity of the situation. "God damn, fuckin' helmet," he irritably gruffs, ripping off his helmet. Your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open. 

Anyone could simply walk by and figure out who the highly sought-after vigilante was.

"Jason, you can't just—get inside!" You grip his arm, dragging him inside the confines of your home—an action you immediately regret. 

"Fuck, baby," he begins. "I'm—I'm so sorry," his tone is sincere as he anxiously drags his hands through his hair. 

"I looked like an idiot, Jason," you breathe out, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he brought. 

Hell, it wasn't their fault Jason was stupid. 

"I know—" he says, following you into your kitchen as you fill a vase with water for the flowers.

"A fucking idiot," you snap, setting the flowers gently into the water. You reach for a pair of scissors. "I requested an extra wine glass when I sat down, and I had to be the one to tell him to take it away," you angrily say, snipping some of the leaves off.

"Baby, I'm really, really sorry. I got caught up—"

"Where were you?" You set the scissors down, turning to look at him.

"Dick needed some help scouting a potential crime circuit in Blüdhaven," he sighs. "He told me it wouldn't take long. Should've known better," he wipes his hand over his face, hissing at the contact.

Your eyes sweep over his face, taking note of the fresh cuts and bruises that now taint his face. Fresh blood prickled from some; others were caked in layers of it.

"Are you hurt?" You ask, concern lacing your words.

He raises a brow. "Don't worry about me, Sweetheart. I'll be alright. I'm more concerned about you," he admits honestly. 

"You're bleeding," you observe, wincing at the sight.

"Just a hair," he lightly smiles. "I'm okay."

Sure, you were pissed at your boyfriend, but you wouldn't let him be in agony like he was. 

He was bleeding, for God's sake.

"Let me clean them up," you simply say.

"No, no. I'm fine—" he began, shaking his head lightly.

"Please," you insist.

He huffs, then accepts defeat. He takes your hand stretched out and follows you to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you fumble through your medicine cabinet to gather band-aids and Neosporin. 

"I hope it's okay. I, um, only have these band-aids," you awkwardly say, holding up a box with a familiar blue hero on the cover. 

"Baby, why do you have Nightwing band-aides?" He questions skeptically.

"Dick brought them to white elephant last year, and I got stuck with them," you lightly laugh. "He's a horrible gift-giver."

Jason laughs. "Promise to remind me to take them off before I leave. He cannot see me with these on. He'd have a damn field day," he grumbles as you laugh. 

"I promise I'll remind you," you affirm, pulling a small step ladder in front of him so you could sit before carefully squirting a bit of the ointment out onto your pointer finger and pressing it to each of Jason's cuts.

He barely winces or whines as you continue the action, delicately tending to each cut. His eyes wander to yours, focusing heavily with determination on what you are doing, even sticking your tongue out to concentrate. 

"I don't deserve this," he heaves as you open some band-aids.

"What? To have ten Nightwing band-aides on you all at once?" You laugh, carefully laying each of the band-aids over the cuts.

He snickers. "That and you taking care of me."

You pull back slightly. "What?"

"I ruined our anniversary tonight. I left you alone in that restaurant and, look at you, still taking care of me," he exasperates. "I don't deserve you."

You frown. "Don't say that. I mean, ya, it was shitty, but just because you did something shitty one time or even twice doesn't make you undeserving of my love, Jason," you gently say, fingers moving to caress his jaw on their own volition. 

He leans into your hand. "I just don't want to lose you. I love you."

Jason and you have exchanged hundreds, if not thousands, of "I love yous" throughout your relationship, but this one felt different. 

It felt more like a sacred prayer spilling from his lips—a tender plea from the depths of his soul. It felt all that much more divine.

You found yourself leaning to kiss his lips, your hands moving to thread through his hair. His lips instantly moved with yours, and his hand gripped your cheek.

It was a tender kiss—an 'I'm sorry,' wrapped in an 'It's okay.'

As the seconds passed, the kiss became more fervent—urgent. You even slipped off the step ladder and moved onto Jason's lap. He welcomed you with open arms, encasing you tightly with each of his hands on your hips as you straddled him.

Your hands glided through his hair messily and eagerly as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You let out a whine that Jason catches as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

You find yourself rocking against him, desperate for friction. He groans, gripping your thighs tightly as he stands with you, guiding you towards your bedroom.

Never once did your lips disconnect.

He gently lays you on the bed as he hastily sheds his boots, armored jacket, gloves, and pants. Your breathing is labored as you follow suit, gingerly slipping off your simple black dress and kicking off your heels, revealing your matching red bra and pantie set you had worn.

Jason stands in front of you in nothing but his boxers, eyes soaking you in.

"What?" You question nervously, feeling self-conscious with his eyes so focused on you. 

"Did you—did you wear that for me?" He asks lazily.

Your lips quip. "Duh. Who else?" You giggle. "You like it?"

He lets out a dry laugh, moving to hover over your body, sticking his arm out to stabilize himself so as not to crush you. "I think I need to take a closer look," he cheekily says, moving his mouth closer to the strap of the bra, taking it between his teeth, pulling a little, then flicking it back. You let out a small whine, feeling the fabric snap back on your skin.

"Sure is sturdy," he observes, fingers coming to slip it down your shoulder. "And a nice color," he murmurs into your shoulder, sending goosebumps down your arm.

"Ya?" You idly question as his lips skim your collarbone.

"Mhm. It's very nice, Baby," he mumbles into your skin, fingers moving to skim the band of your panties. "And these," he begins. "Don't even get me started." He lightly nips your skin with his teeth, eliciting another whine. 

His fingers slip under the band, pulling them down so they sit around your lower thighs. "Ah, there she is," he coos, cupping your dripping cunt with his hand.

"Jason," you moan, pushing yourself into his hand more.

"What, Baby?" His words were low and dragged out, almost breathy.

"I—I need more," you groan, hand moving to rest on his hand on you, encouraging more movement from him. 

"I'll do you one better," he takes his hand away, making you frown, though he moves to slip his boxers down, showcasing his erect cock. 

He strokes himself once before guiding himself into your entrance, leaning down to kiss your temple lightly as he pushes himself inside your cunt. You hiss at the contact, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He groans as one of his hands comes to grip behind your neck, and the other moves to lift your leg up slightly so he can grip your thigh, giving a better angle as he moves at a consistent pace.

A desperate mewl escapes your mouth as his pace fastens. Jason's hand has moved to rest on your breast in your bra as he throws his head back, groaning and spewing curses.

You sit up slightly, gripping his neck, pulling him down to your lips. He kisses you roughly, even sucking your bottom lip in the process. You bring your leg up to wrap around his torso, pushing him even more deeply; he groans as his hand slides to grip the hinge of your leg.

"Jay, I'm gonna—" You begin breathlessly.

"I know, Baby. I know," he purrs into your mouth. "Feel so good."

You grip his neck tighter, lips pressing into his shakily, as you feel yourself tighten around him. All you have had to do was moan his name into his mouth to have him following suit, even moving one hand to grip the sheets beneath as he comes.

You're both gasping for air. Jason eases himself out of you and plops beside you, pulling you close so your face rests on his chest.

"As far as orgasms go, that one was great," you pant, fingers moving to trace the lines between Jason's abs.

"Ya? Do I get a golden star?" He tuts, fingers playing with your hair.

"Sorry, Babe. I only give golden stars for extra credit," you jest, looking up at him.

"Extra credit, you say?" He asks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "I think I can do that." He lifts up abruptly, getting off the bed.

"What're you—" You begin to question before he's tugging you towards him by your ankles, planting his face in between your legs.

"Jay!" You shriek, though make no effort to move as his tongue lapses at your sensitive clit.

"I really want that golden star," he mumbles into you.

a/n: finally finished this fic that has been haunting my drafts for months upon months ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[joshujin]

can’t wait no more

🔞 18+, minors do not interact • masterlist • submit a request

your pov • soonyoung’s pov ⇣

soonyoung has been best friends with you for 10 years now—in love with you for almost all of that time. one way or another, those 10 years end tonight.

♫ darl+ing svt pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader word count: 11.6k (i don't want to talk about it) tags: best friends to lovers, idiots in love, a lil miscommunication, angst, happy ending, soonyoung pov, flashbacks cw: smut - possessiveness, unprotected piv (pull-out method. v irresponsible piv. don't be like these two), reader loses virginity, spit, oral f. receiving, fingering, mention of choking, mention of masturbating, soft vanilla smut, probably a little hornier than the other pov bc this is a MAN after all a/n: happy @citruscheol birth!!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و to celebrate this momentous occasion, i ofc had to honor her request for a soonyoung pov of we can be all we need. you don’t really need to read that before this one; after all, they are essentially the same fic. BUT! i recommend you do bc it will make this version more enjoyable + easier to understand. and y’know what, i literally had to drive myself bat shit crazy and completely alter my brain chemistry to write this. like. there isn’t enough grass in the world that i can touch to return back to normal. and idk if i can ever look at hoshi the same ever again, so the least you can do is read both ok ㅠㅠㅠㅠ kidding ofc pls do what you want haha. either way, i think you’ll enjoy whichever one you want to read! as far as smut goes, same thing as last time: i marked where the smut starts and ends, but this courtesy is for adults who don’t want to read explicit material. minors should not be interacting at all pls!

soonyoung has been avoiding you. he knows you know it because you’ve asked him multiple times now if anything was wrong, and every time, he’s lied to you and told you everything was fine. everything wasn’t fine. it hardly felt like anything was fine, actually.

because you just blew out your candles, you’re 30 now, and his time has officially run out. he can’t blame anyone other than himself, though, and he knows it. he had seven whole years to tell you, and instead, he foolishly thought if he just continued to love you the way he’s always loved you, you would simply see it yourself. you would see how hopelessly in love with you he is. 

you didn’t. for whatever reason, his showering you with lavish gifts, vacations, and fancy meals didn’t strike you as odd for a friend. or the way he was constantly wrapped around you or leaving kisses on your forehead whenever he had the chance. or the fact that it’s been nine fucking years since he went on a date or slept with anyone. he’s fucking priestly at this point.

and he doesn’t do it just so you’ll get the hint. he does it because that’s how he loves you and that’s how he’s always loved you. but maybe that’s the issue: you think this is just how he is as a friend because he’s been this way ever since he met you. but you couldn’t be more wrong. 

soonyoung has never even felt inclined to treat anyone outside of his family the way he treats you. as far as he’s concerned, everything he does for you are just things he watched his dad do for his mom his whole life. you’re not even aware that the way he loves you is supposed to be reserved for whoever becomes his wife.

and he’s been so happy to give you all of that even if it meant you never saw him the way he longed for you to. it fills him with pride to know that your expectations are higher because he’s loved you so well—that you know exactly what you deserve because he’s always tried to give you exactly that.

at least, up until a few weeks ago, when the horror of the truth really started settling into his bones: you weren’t going to fall in love with him by the time you turn 30. and without even really realizing it, he started distancing himself from you, deluded into thinking it would be easier to let go if he just put a little space between the two of you. he knew it was hurting you just as much as it was hurting him, and he knew you didn’t deserve it.

it’s against his hardwiring to do anything that hurts you, and it’s reflected in how terrible his life has become in just a handful of weeks. his apartment has been filthy; the only reason it was ready for your party was because he paid the housekeeper double to come even though he wasn’t scheduled to clean for another week. his work is fortunately still fine, but he spends whole days with horrible brain fog, hardly understanding or even hearing anything anyone says to him. he hasn’t seen any friends—mutual or otherwise—because he spends all his free time in bed or drinking himself into a sobbing mess.

that’s all he can seem to do these days, is cry over you. 

soonyoung steps out into the balcony attached to his bedroom, leaning against the sliding door once it’s closed. he cranes his neck to look up toward the midnight sky, and takes a deep breath. it doesn’t help keep the tears at bay. he keeps his head tilted up. 

he knows you don’t deserve this. he knows you’re hurting and that you feel him slipping away. he saw it. just now, just before you blew your candles out, he saw the way the joy and life immediately fled your eyes when they landed on him. he wonders what you saw. did you see the apathy he was desperately forcing? did you see how sad he was at all? 

because he is. he’s the saddest he’s felt since you told him you would rather be on vacation with someone you were in love with seven years ago. someone who wasn’t him. maybe he’s even sadder now. at least back then, he was foolish enough to hope you would change your mind. at least back then, he had time on his side.

now, it’s over, and now, it’s time to give himself a fair chance to move on. you don’t deserve what he’s putting you through, and it’s true for him too. he doesn’t deserve what he’s put himself through for the last decade. 

countless nights you fell asleep at his place, countless times he wished he could gather you up in his arms and carry you into a bed you shared. all the times you told him you loved him and he desperately wanted to beg you to repeat it, even if it was just so he could pretend you meant it the way he needed you to mean it. whole weeks spent overseas on all kinds of vacations, time he spent daydreaming that this was what a honeymoon with you could feel like.

it all adds up to a decade of putting his heart on the backburner so he could allow himself to continue loving you.

soonyoung scoffs at himself when the tears refuse to stop welling in his eyes. he shakes his head and steps forward, resting his forearms against his railing and staring at the blackness in front of him.

part of him hates the version of himself from seven years ago that thought making this stupid promise was a good idea. what good can come from not loving you? but the reason he’s stuck to pulling away and holding you at arm’s distance is because that version of himself somehow knew the pain would grow more and more, year after year.

he can’t do this for the rest of his life—can’t just keep making room for more heartache the older he gets. you’re 30 now, and even though you insist you’re fine and have no desire to date, he knows you’ll get restless soon. and when he thinks of you finally deciding you want to have a boyfriend, he wants to vomit. when he thinks of some other asshole’s hands on you, his lips on yours—when he thinks of you sighing anyone’s name but his, he gets near homicidal over something that isn’t even real. at least not yet.

soonyoung doesn’t want to wait for that to happen. he doesn’t want to wait for you to hate him for being unable to share you—and he won’t be able to share you. he also doesn’t want you to have to face the pressure of having to choose between a best friend and a boyfriend. 

instead, he’d rather you start to hate him slowly, over time. he’d rather you allow him his space and not even realize you hate him for slipping away and leaving you behind—not until it’s years later, when you hear his name in passing, and you think, he just left, and you tell yourself it’s fine because your life is better without him anyway.

it hurts you now, but it’ll hurt less later. it’ll hurt less for both of you to endure this silence now, rather than fight until there’s nothing but resentment.

the door behind soonyoung slides open forcefully and slams closed a moment later. he flinches, looking over his shoulder to see who entered his room and ready to tell them to get out. when he sees you, though, he turns back away, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes.

“what are you doing?”

he quietly clears his throat, hoping he doesn’t sound too worn when he speaks. “just needed some air.”

“no.”

you say it in that tone that always scared him a little. it’s when he knew you were about to get your way. he wasn’t interested in doing the whole fighting thing with you; he just gave you whatever you wanted the moment this voice came out of your mouth. it always drew a smile out of you and it made his life easier.

this is about to be the one and only time he can’t let you have your way.

“what are you doing?”

soonyoung squeezes his eyes shut, like that will help him brace himself against the conversation he has to have with you.

this was coming, he tells himself. you knew this was coming. she was never just going to let you go without an explanation.

“why are you ignoring me?” you ask, voice cracking. it takes everything in him to stay where he stands and keep from wrapping his arms around you, apologizing, and begging you to stop crying. “why are you avoiding me? why are you acting like i’m not your best friend?”

soonyoung opens his eyes and almost laughs. best friend. he doesn’t know when the term became so derogatory to him. anyone would be lucky to be in your life, let alone be your best friend. he hates it anyway.

he’s your best friend. you’re not his. he would never dream of calling you that—at least not without calling you the love of his life first. his most beloved. the woman he would give anything to marry. on the totem pole of things he wants to call you, best friend is at the bottom.

“because you’re not,” he says honestly. he immediately regrets it when he hears the small whimper that escapes you. “at least, i don’t want you to be,” he adds, hoping it will soften the blow of what he just said.

“what are you saying?” 

soonyoung feels so tired and sad and heartbroken. he hangs his head a little as he takes a deep breath.

“what are you saying, soonyoung?” you repeat when he doesn’t answer immediately. patience was never your strong suit.

when he’s sure he’s not going to start sobbing upon turning, he finally faces you, and even then, he can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. if he does, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do this.

“do you remember your 23rd birthday?” he asks, gaze fixed on the stain on his balcony where you dropped a smoothie and he insisted you leave it instead of cleaning it. he forgot to do it himself and now he has a permanent reminder of how whipped he is for you.

“siquijor,” you basically spit at him. he feels your walls coming up. he feels your defenses getting ready, and he knows you’re aware of what he’s about to do. “what about it?”

siquijor. the best and worst trip of his life.

“i think i’m drunk,” you announced, words slurring so badly, soonyoung was convinced anyone else wouldn’t be able to understand what you were saying.

“what?” he asked sarcastically. “no way. what makes you say that?” 

soonyoung loved being sober when you were drunk like this. he loved hearing and seeing all the silly shit you’d never say or do sober. most of all, he loved taking care of you. he loved pretending he meant something more to you and this was just another boyfriend duty of his—making sure his drunk girlfriend was happy and hydrated and safe, and that when she woke up, she had a lineup of hangover cures at her disposal.

you answered with the gnarliest burp. he burst into loud laughter, grateful the beach was far enough away from any rooms that the two of you weren’t disturbing anyone.

after a few moments, he realized you weren’t laughing along, simply leaning back on your elbows in the sand, smiling softly at him. he did what he does best: he pretended. he pretended you were just a lovesick girl staring at someone she yearned for. he pretended you wanted him just as badly as he needed you. he pretended you were in love.

“penny for your thoughts, you drunkard?” 

you giggled, slipping off of your elbows and laying all the way down. he joined you, both of you looking up at the sky. it was different here than it was back home. it was quiet and warm and there was no light to disrupt the view of the stars. he loved that he was seeing something like this for the first time with you.

“my thoughts are worth more than a penny.”

he snorted. even drunk, you were a brat. “nickel?”

“nice try. a hundred bucks, buddy.”

“ha!” he shouted. “never mind, keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“soonie!” you half whined, half burped. he made a face of disgust at you. he thought he did a good job of hiding how endeared he was.

“gross.” soonyoung sighed, turning back to the sky. “fifty.”

you giggled. “deal.” there was no way in hell you were going to remember he owed you $50. “i’m thinking… i am having the best time of my life.”

his heart swelled knowing he did well for your birthday celebration.

he let his head loll to the side, watching you. you had your hands folded politely over your ribs and your legs were crossed at the ankles, your feet swaying side to side like there was a song playing that only you could hear. if soonyoung concentrated hard enough, he thought he could hear it too. it sounded like what he imagined his love for you would if it were a song.

you smiled at the stars like you were talking to them. 

“i’m so happy,” you said. “best birthday ever, soonyoung. best month ever. thank you. i love you so much.”

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he said, voice coming out barely above a whisper. “i love you too.” so god damn much.

you turned to look at him when he said that, your smile fading naturally the longer you looked at him. “i…” you trailed off, frowning a little before you continued. “i think… i think i feel lonely, though.”

he mirrored your frown, immediately bringing his body closer to yours. he rested a hand on top of yours. “what’s wrong?”

you opened your mouth but before you could start speaking, you were suddenly crying. 

“y/n?” he sat up, bringing you up with him. “what’s wrong, baby?” his eyes widened at the slip-up, but you were too drunk to notice, frantically wiping the tears that kept streaming down your face.

“i’m so happy,” you breathed, hand still in his. “this is everything i’ve ever wanted. this is everything i could ever dream of having.” 

your words were still slurred and with the addition of the crying to your inebriated state, you’re hiccuping badly as you speak. 

“then why are you crying?” he asked. “why do you feel lonely?”

“this is what i want from y—from…” you hiccuped again. “this is everything i want from someone i’m in love with.”

he felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he couldn’t help the way his hand stiffened in yours. he pulled away.

“oh” was all he could bring himself to say.

what else was he supposed to say to that?

“i’m in love with you. please let me be the one that gets to give this to you.”

“please love me.”

“please don’t break my heart like this.”

he couldn’t say any of it.

“i want you to want… i want…” you kept hiccuping, and despite feeling like his heart was breaking into smithereens, soonyoung found it in himself to rub your back comfortingly. “i want—” you cut yourself off with another hiccup.

“shhh.” it came out in a daze. the sky looked darker. the stars looked duller. the water wasn’t as bright anymore. “it’s okay. it’s okay.” he didn’t know if he was telling you or himself. “it’s okay.”

soonyoung pulled you into his arms, still rubbing your back as he tucked your head under his chin. he didn’t bother trying to find the right words to tell you; he knew you probably wouldn’t remember any of this. so he allowed himself to feel heartbroken as you wept and hiccuped until eventually, you fell asleep.

and when you did, it was his turn. he silently cried until the sun came up, and when it did, soonyoung gathered you up in his arms and carried you back—only as a friend, to a bed you’d never share.

“it hurt,” he says, tears finally beginning to stream down his face.

soonyoung never shied away from crying in front of you; he did it kind of often. but there’s something especially humiliating about it now. he’s wrapped up in his sadness, and it’s suffocating him, making it hard to speak. he thinks if he does, he might choke on his grief.

“it hurt more than anything i’ve ever felt, y/n,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. he isn’t sure if you heard him, but he can’t bring himself to repeat it.

your hands close over his, where they hold the lapel of his jacket around your shoulders. he doesn’t even know when he took it off to put it on you. loving you was exactly like that—an instinct he didn’t have to think twice about. loving you was just something that happened without his knowledge or permission.

“soonyoung,” you call his name, high and desperate. your defenses have come down. you’re not using that scary voice on him anymore. you’re not bracing yourself. he thinks you should be. “that’s not what i meant. i—”

“it’s okay,” he breathes, so many tears in his eyes, he can barely make out the shape of you. he blinks rapidly to expel them. “i’ve had time to—”

“but if you would just let me ex—”

“there’s nothing to explain,” he interjects softly, eyes coming to you now that he can properly see past his tears. “i stayed around, didn’t i?”

your fight falters and you stop trying to talk over him.

“i stayed for seven more years. if i needed you to explain, i would’ve asked the second you woke up sober.”

your shoulders fall and he knows the rest of your fight has dissipated into the night. the next question you ask almost breaks his resolve. “only seven?”

the question comes out small and quiet and defeated, and soonyoung feels his lips tremble. he rolls them between his teeth to stop himself from telling you something he doesn’t want to say: no, of course not only seven. you’ll have me wrapped around your finger until the day i die.

he takes his hands back from under your hold once he’s absolutely sure he won’t say something that would disappoint the version of him that sat on that beach in siquijor, swearing that he wouldn’t let himself feel that heartbroken in the next decade of his life. 

“i didn’t mind waiting seven more years to see if you would ever return my feelings,” he says instead of answering you, fully aware of how badly his voice wavers as he speaks. “my friends, they told me i was insane for letting my 20s go to waste like that. but to me… if i still got to be around you, still give you experiences and love that made you feel like that’s what you deserved from someone you actually were in love with, then… i can’t see the issue in that. i’d happily wait seven more years. because even if it was seven years of the same longing—and even if it was seven years leading to nothing more, it was still seven years of me being able to show you how well i could…”

he swallows the lump in his throat and fails. he shakes his head and just says what he should’ve told you seven years ago.

“how well i could love you. how much i do love you.”

you look dumbfounded, and if this were any other situation—if soonyoung didn’t feel like he was actually fucking dying—he thinks he’d make fun of you. your eyes are the widest he’s ever seen them, and your mouth is parted like you’re poised to say something but you don’t even know what.

“soonie—” you start.

he doesn’t let you finish. he can’t. he’s so close to ending this—to doing the worst thing he’s ever going to have to do—and if he lets you finish, he’ll lose the courage to walk away.

“i told myself… while you slept in my lap on that beach in siquijor, that if by the time you turned 30, we still hadn’t moved past… this…” he can’t stand the look of horror on your face as you start to process what he’s saying. he looks at the sky behind your head instead. “then, i wouldn’t spend my 30s torturing myself anymore. i’d let you go.”

you don’t let even a millisecond pass before you practically scream: “i don’t want you to let me go!” at him so forcefully, he flinches. “i don’t want you to let me go, you stupid idiot! if that’s what you’ve been doing the last, few weeks, ‘letting me go’—” you make exaggerated air quotes with your fingers and a face that tells him you think he’s ridiculous. it catches him so off-guard, he almost laughs. “—then knock it off!”

you slap his chest to each word to punctuate your point. 

“wh—?” he brings his arm up reflexively to defend himself.

“what i meant to tell you, it came out wrong,” you inform him. his arms slowly fall back to his side as he listens to you as closely as he can. “i didn’t even mean to tell you anything, but if drunk me outed me like that, i need you to know that’s not what i meant.”

the words came out of your mouth in a rush like you thought soonyoung wouldn’t let you say them if you took too long. when he doesn’t say anything in the brief silence, you take a deep breath, obviously trying to steady yourself.

“i was lonely. i was really lonely,” you admit, seeming to remember the feeling more than you did the actual conversation. “and yes, it was because i enjoyed that vacation so much and yes, it was because i wished i could have it with someone i was in love with, but i was having it with someone i was in love with!”

everything in soonyoung’s body tenses, like his own defenses are coming up—like this is some kind of joke and his body is preparing to be laughed at. because you just said you were on vacation with someone you were in love with in the philippines… but you were on vacation with him in the philippines… 

his body braces itself.

“i just meant i wanted it to mean more for both of us,” you continue, hands waving erratically between you to drive your point home. “i wanted to be on vacation with you!” 

your brows furrow and your lips thin as you helplessly fight off a wave of tears he knows is pushing to be released. he knows that when you’re too emotional—whether it’s sadness, joy, rage—you cry, and once you do, you end up blubbering for so long, you usually end up asleep at the end of it.

but still, you bravely fight it off, obviously determined to tell soonyoung what you need to.

“but you as my boyfriend! not you as my best friend! there’s no one else i would’ve wanted to be with, soonyoung!”

he’s glad his body is stiff enough to keep his knees from immediately giving out under him. because all soonyoung wants to do now is fall to the floor and cry. cry because he never thought you’d say these words, because he felt like he was getting back something he lost on the beaches of siquijor, because the two of you wasted a decade dancing around each other instead of just fucking saying something.

“do you think i’ve been single our entire friendship for fun?!” you shriek the question through tears. “do you think it’s fun being the 30-year-old virgin who’s never even kissed anyone?! because it’s not!”

you whined about this often early on in your friendship, but eventually the complaints petered out, and he would drive himself crazy wondering if it was because that changed—if someone else had taken those firsts.

did it happen? 

she would tell me.

right?

no, i’m still a dude. that’s weird, she’d probably tell a girl.

no no, i’m her stupid ass best friend. she would tell me!

oh my god, would she tell me?

what if i just die?

and so the cycle would go. he knows it wasn’t any of his business and that if you had lost those firsts to someone else, that was your prerogative, but still, he feels relieved to hear that isn’t the case.

and he knows he has no right to—not when you haven’t had the proper conversation to hash things out yet—but he suddenly feels an overwhelming possessiveness for you. because he waited for you. no one was ever going to make him stray away from you, so he waited for you—never expecting, just hoping. sorely hoping. and now he knows you waited for him too, and now… now, all he can think about is making you his. all soonyoung can think about now is giving you all the things you abstained from in the hopes you’d have it with him of all people.

it’s what you deserve, isn’t it? for waiting? and isn’t he in the business of giving you what you deserve? his hand twitches, begging him to reach for you and kiss you stupid.

“but i didn’t want anyone else! i wanted you!” you point at him almost violently, and his heart grows too big for his chest. “you waited seven years, but i waited ten! TEN, soonyoung! do you—”

his willpower can only withstand so much. at the end of the day, soonyoung is just a man who’s pathetically in love with you, and hearing you say you wanted him—hearing you confirm you waited your entire friendship just for the chance to have him and be with him and only him—it completely undoes his entire being.

soonyoung’s mouth is on yours before his brain can fully process what’s happening. he feels the shock on your lips for only a moment before you’re moving. despite it being your first kiss, you respond quickly, your body knowing exactly what to do with soonyoung’s like it’s second nature.

you taste like tears and champagne, and even with all the extravagant dinners he’s taken you on and the places around the world you’ve traveled to together, this is the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

soonyoung thinks he’s happy to stand here, kissing you and tasting you and listening to your cute, little breaths against him forever. but then your hands start exploring him—his hips, his waist, his chest, before wrapping around his neck and bringing him in to kiss you even deeper. and he knows immediately that all the strength he mustered up to deal with tonight is gone. the moan that comes up his throat is loud and bordering on obscene, but you smile upon taking it into your own mouth, as if you’re feeding on his desire. as if you love the taste of it.

soonyoung doesn’t wait after that. he can’t wait after that. without letting your lips separate, he guides you back into his room, careful to keep you from tripping over the threshold and all the crap he left on the floor when he was busy having his pity parties.

he lays you in his bed gently, thankful that even though it’s unmade, he at least had the housekeeper wash his sheets. he lays on top of you, trying not to let his weight crush you, but when you wrap your arms around him, you press him to your body as close as it can possibly go, and after he releases his entire weight on you, you hold him like even that still isn’t close enough.

it’s all so much. after spending so long hoping you’d one day want him even a fraction as much as he wants you, tasting the excitement on you and feeling the adoration in your hands as they feel every surface of his body they could reach—it’s so much. 

it wears down his self-restraint. 

you don’t seem to mind, though, because when he runs his tongue along your lips, asking permission for more, you open your mouth immediately. and when his tongue slips in and meets yours, the moan he gets back is so loud and uninhibited and hot, he feels it in his dick.

you giggle a little, and though you recover quickly and continue trying to make out with him after that, the sound delights him enough that he stops to look at you. your makeup is tear stained and your eyes are still a little red, but you look worlds different than you did just a few minutes ago. there’s no tightness in your smile, no devastation in your eyes, no anger furrowed into your brows. when he looks at you this close, he realizes he’s never seen you this happy, this excited, or this light—like you’ve been relieved of a burden that was too heavy for you. but really, the most different thing about you now is that you just look like you’re his.

“what’s so funny, hm?” he asks, resting his forehead on yours. at the start of this night, he didn’t think he would ever hear you giggle again. 

“nothing,” you claim, even though your voice still has traces of amusement somewhere in there. your hand snakes up into his hair and starts scratching his scalp. he hums at the sensation. “i love you, soonyoung.”

he lifts his forehead to look at you. it’s his millionth time hearing you say that. it’s the first time he’s hearing it in the context he’s wished to hear it for the last decade. 

you love him. you love him. you love him.

“i’ve always loved you,” you announce unabashedly. “from the very start.”

in retrospect, the proper thing to do would’ve been to tell you he loved you too—so much that he didn’t even know how to process it well enough to attempt to put it into words. but instead, he pushes himself off you, slightly ashamed that your confession made his dick go from semi-hard to rock hard in record time, but insanely elated (and painfully and obviously turned on) at the idea of you having spent your entire friendship loving him just as much. 

when he sits back, his pants uncomfortably pull against his erection, and he winces, glancing down at it and silently scolding it to stop embarrassing him and have some goddamn decorum. 

he clears his throat and looks back at you, where you’re now propped up on your elbows, smiling at his crotch like it’s already yours. it ruins him.

soonyoung is going to tell you he loves you. and sure, you already know because he already did, but now he gets to tell you knowing you feel the same. so he’s going to tell you, and he’s going to say it over and over and over again, but once he does, he gets the feeling that he won’t want to stop at just kissing you.

he knows it’s probably a lot—to go from what you were to… this, and on top of that, lose your first kiss. and even though you made it clear that he’s the only reason you even remained a virgin, he doesn’t want to assume you’re ready to do something as big as have sex for the first time tonight too.

soonyoung wishes he could be a bigger person than the horny teenager he feels like right now. he wishes he could stop this for the both of you and insist on having a conversation first before things get any further like a proper adult would. but you want him and you love him, and it’s driving him absolutely fucking crazy, and if he gets any harder, his dick is going to start hurting.

“how far?” he asks, his voice so pathetically needy, he wants to die. “i don’t want you to feel rushed or pressured. i just…” he falters, trying to find a way to say this without making it sound like it’s all he wants from you. “we wasted so much time.” not a great start. “and i—”

“all the way,” you say, a coy smile on your lips when you interrupt him. his pants stretch even tighter. 

it’s clear he was worrying for nothing; from the way you look at him, he knows you understand what he’s desperately trying to say and failing. 

he watches you with heavy-lidded eyes as you lay yourself back down and wrap your legs around his torso, doing nothing when your already short dress rides all the way up to expose you. 

“please,” you add on so sweetly, he groans. he won’t be lasting long at all tonight.

soonyoung rests his hands on your thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing circles into the soft skin there as he tries to take a moment to process everything in front of him. he knows if he doesn’t, the excitement will paint over his memories with zero remorse, and all he’ll remember is that it happened—not what he said, did, or heard. and this is absolutely something he needs to remember. 

he has to remember the way your knees quickly and easily fall apart and away from each other at his touch—almost like they’re sighing in relief at his arrival. he has to remember how your lower back arches and your pelvis wriggles underneath his fingertips before he’s even really done anything to you. soonyoung’s gaze rakes over your figure, taking note of every, little thing he can, when finally, they land on something that lays his fears to rest. 

because there is no way he’ll ever forget the moment his eyes found the space between your legs. he stares at you now—right on the spot where your panties are already drenched with your arousal. soonyoung doesn’t care how overwhelming his excitement is right now; there is simply no possible way his brain will be able to gloss over this no matter how many years pass: the moment he saw physical evidence of just how much you craved him and needed him. how much you’ve deprived yourself of him.

and now, he gets to give you anything and everything you want from him.

his hands begin to travel up your thighs, goosebumps following the trail of his fingertips. he stops just shy of your cunt, trying to breathe deeply enough to calm his thunderous heartbeat. if he gets too lost in this, he’ll cum in his pants, and he will never forgive himself. 

he stares hard at your desire, just barely able to keep from screaming when he realizes the dark spot is slowly growing the longer he sits there, unmoving. you squirm under him, and his hands involuntarily squeeze in response. your thighs are plush in his grasp, so full and beautiful, your flesh is forcing its way into the spaces between his fingers and turning white from hard he grips you.

don’t fucking cum right now, you loser, he thinks hard to himself. you cannot cum before anything happens during your first time with y/n. he exhales deeply and slowly. i will literally kill you if you cum right now.

he’s so tempted to look you in the eye just to see if you’re struggling even a fraction of the amount that he is, but he knows eye contact with you right now will just set his progress back. 

when he’s mostly confident he won’t immediately finish in his pants, he has to swallow the idiotic smile that threatens to take over his entire face. finally, soonyoung gives in and he moves. just one finger, pressed against the part of your panties that sinks just a tiny bit more than the rest—right where he plans to be in the next few minutes, stuffing you full as far as he’ll go. 

as soon as you feel his fingertip brush against your entrance, your hole pulses like it’s trying to clamp around something bigger than his finger that isn’t there. he feels some of the control he has on that pathetic smile of his slip, and as if it’s an avalanche, the rest of his control comes crashing down. without thinking about it, his finger sinks the tiniest bit deeper as he drags it up your slit, the wetness from your panties catching on his skin ever so slightly.

when his finger finds and presses on your clit, you begin uncontrollably writhing and gasping beneath him, and his eyes tear themselves away from your cunt long enough to finally meet your gaze. you look at him with so much lust and love and longing—all of it so loudly desperate—he completely loses track of where his finger is and what it’s doing. all he wants to do is latch his lips onto yours again and say what he should’ve at least ten times by now: that he loves you.

so instead of rubbing your clit until he teases your first orgasm out of you like he planned to, he removes his hand from your center so that he can lean forward and kiss you senseless. but as soon as his touch leaves you, a strangled whine forces its way up your throat and past your lips, making him laugh immediately. 

“what?” you ask, your eyes narrowing at him. it should invoke fear in him, but he’s too endeared for that. “why are you laughing?! did i do something embarrassing?”

soonyoung scoffs as he brings himself over you. “‘embarrassing’? no, baby.” he rolls his eyes. “your neediness is not ‘embarrassing.’ it’s fucking hot.”

you turn the prettiest shade of pink. “shut up.”

he grins. “gladly.”

soonyoung kisses your nose, enjoying the shade of pink it turned under your blush. then, he kisses your lips, just for a moment so that he can lean back and look you in the eye when he says:

“i love you. i love you so god damn much, i thought i was going to die having to leave you.”

he knows it’s dramatic, but he was convinced that’s exactly what was happening to him not even an hour ago. the thought of doing life without you by his side made everything look and feel so colorless and dull and boring and ugly. dead was as good a word as any to describe what his life would look like without you. 

“you’re not leaving me,” you say so matter-of-factly, the smile it brings to his face hurts his cheeks. he was so dumb to think he could; even if he had all the strength in the world to end your friendship, you would’ve never let him off the hook that easily. 

“i’m not,” he says. 

soonyoung gets to work covering you in as many kisses as humanly possible, his lips pressing against your mouth, jaw, neck, collarbone—wherever you have skin, his lips are all over it. your gasps and moans reach a fever pitch, and he figures it’s time to stop making you wait. 

“you tell me if you want to stop, okay?” he asks, lips brushing against your ears as he speaks. “and we’ll stop, no questions asked.” 

you nod so eagerly—so obediently—he can’t help but smirk. his tongue darts out to lick your lobe and bring it between his teeth to nip at before he starts kissing his way down your body. 

“you sound so pretty,” he tells you as you continue to make sure he knows exactly how good you feel. all moans and groans and whispered begging. “exactly how i imagined you’d sound.” his lips graze your already hard nipples through the fabric of your dress and he earns another loud whimper. “fuck, even better actually.”

he pulls your dress down and off one shoulder to expose the breast he was just teasing, and when he sees you bare, he hangs his head, letting his forehead meet your chest as he grunts loudly. 

what is my life? he thinks to himself. this is literally insane.

soonyoung flattens his tongue against your nipple, and you inhale sharply, your hips immediately bucking up. he doesn’t realize his eyes have fluttered closed until he opens them to look at you and make sure you’re okay. from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth hangs open in dazed ecstasy, he thinks it’s safe to assume you’re okay.

“soonyoung.”

god, his name sounds so good when you say it, especially when you say it like this.

“fuck,” he grumbles against your tit. he swears his dick is throbbing from how hard you have him.

“lower! please, god, lower!” you order him. 

“whatever you want,” he breathes against your skin. 

but he’s not moving before he has the chance to leave a tiny, little something that can lay claim to you—something only he and you will see. he presses his hand against the side of your breast, groaning at how full you are in his palm. he leans down and bites into the flesh just above your nipple. your hips jerk up as he sucks on the spot just long enough that he knows it will stay a few days. he smiles when he releases you, the hickey already turning a beautiful purple. 

“pretty,” he mutters. he wants to cover you in them. he kisses the mark gently before removing the other strap of your dress. 

with the bottom of your dress completely ridden up and the top half bunched around your waist, you’re almost completely naked, and already, soonyoung can hardly refrain from jumping off his bed and running around the room screaming.

fucking breathe, bro.

he gently lifts your hips up and off the bed so that he can slip both your dress and your ruined panties off your body in one go. once he does, all the refraining he’s been doing tonight comes to a brusque end. 

“oh my god!” he shouts, burying his face into your clothes and groaning into them. “i can’t believe this is my life right now, oh my god.” 

soonyoung presses your clothes against his eyes so hard, he thinks he should see stars, but still, all he can see are your perfect tits and your bare, glistening cunt and the sensual look in your eyes like they’re all forever burned into his retinas. or maybe his eyes are open?

he blinks and brings your clothes down just enough to be able to take a peek at you. nope, the image of your naked body in his bed are definitely just burned into his eyeballs. 

“oh my god, i really have you naked in my bed right now, oh my god oh my god oh my god.” he probably says it 20 more times. he’s not sure. 

“soonyoung!” you berate his behavior the way you always do. he smiles into your dress because even as everything is literally changing before his eyes… nothing has. you’re still his best friend, pretending to get mad at him for being silly. he knows from the fond way you look at him that you aren’t mad at all. “focus! come on, you’re just teasing me now. please.”

“okay, okay!” he says, voice muffled by your dress. “i’m so sorry, i’m not trying to tease you, i swear. i just…” he stammers, unable to stop the whole bunch of nothing that comes spilling out of his mouth. “i’m—just, i—it’s just, like… what?” the question comes out as a laugh. “y’know?” 

you raise an eyebrow at him and he realizes he isn’t really sure what he’s asking you. 

“like, what the actual fuck?” he adds like that will help explain. 

you groan. “it’s crazy how quickly you go from sex god to loser.”

soonyoung feels his face immediately fall into a glare—one you’re used to seeing whenever you two bicker. “you know…” he says, eyes narrowed at you. “my favorite thing about you has always been your patience.”

he throws your clothes aside, hands going to his shirt to begin unbuttoning it. 

“good thing i have a lot of it then,” you claim. your bratty smirk falls right off your face as you watch him slowly undress. 

“right.”

when he shrugs his shirt off and lets it join your clothes on the floor, your eyes widen like you’re seeing him shirtless for the first time. your eyes sweep up and down his torso, your chest heaving as you begin to breathe harder, and it almost makes him shy—almost makes him want to hug himself and jokingly tell you to stop ogling him like a piece of meat. but he also enjoys it more than anything. 

so many times you’ve been half naked together, wearing swimsuits at the beach or at the pool, and although he’s relished having your eyes on him before, this feels different. you stare at him shamelessly now, making no move to avert your eyes the way you used to. this is where he would make a joke to lighten the mood—to give you an out from a situation you might feel caged in by. 

this time, he just allows himself the space to revel in this feeling of being adored. 

“wait,” you say suddenly when he stands up off the bed and his hands start undoing his belt. you crawl over to him, completely naked, and he thinks he might have a heart attack watching you on all fours like this. 

“change your mind? it’s fine if you do,” he assures you, already fastening his belt before his dick can get any more ideas about where the night is going. 

“no,” you laugh as you rest your hands on top of his. “i’m not going to change my mind, soonie.”

you sound as sure as he does about this. it relaxes him immediately. you smile at him before you press your naked body against his, tangle your hands in his hair, and bring his face down to lock lips with you again. he holds you delicately as your tongues slide against each other—different from how he’s pressed, tugged, and groped at you tonight. he forces himself to be gentler. he forces himself to slow down and enjoy the feeling of being in love with you openly. 

he says as much. “i love you. oh my god, i love you. holy shit.”

“don’t start with the loser behavior again, please,” you mutter against the kiss. he wants to laugh, but he doesn’t dare leave your lips. “but i love you too.”

soonyoung doesn’t think he’ll get tired of hearing it. the past 10 years of his life have led up to this moment. it will take so much more than that for him to ever get used to the feeling of you telling him you love him.

he rests his forehead against yours and smiles. “i’m so happy.”

“me too, soonie.”

he watches as your hands leave his hair and travel down his chest, taking their time to trace every line and curve of every muscle. you finish the job of undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, and that’s about all he can take before he decides it’s time to stop holding back. 

before you can even touch his zipper, he grabs your face and kisses you roughly, tongue twisting with yours immediately. he kisses you like he’s held his breath for 10 years and you’re air. you kiss him back the same, exact way. 

he finishes undressing, kicking his pants away and wasting no time picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he does. his cock twitches violently once it’s sandwiched between you and his stomach, and he has you laying back in his bed in mere seconds. 

our bed, a voice in his head reminds him. a bed we can share. if you want.

when you tear yourself away from him to catch your breath, your eyes immediately go south, and he doesn’t have to follow your gaze to know what you’re gaping at. 

“see something you like?”

you don’t even pretend to hear what he said. “uh, what?”

it inflates his ego to unprecedented levels, but he doesn’t gloat and annoy you the way he usually would. mostly because his laughs are cut off with your frantic begging. 

“soonyoung,” you whisper so suddenly and seriously, he freezes. “put it in me.”

the order catches him by so much surprise, he laughs even harder than before. “i can’t just put it in you.”

you shove him and he pushes off the bed to put some space in between you. he looks at you, amused. “what?! what do you mean you can’t just put it in me?” you sound the most offended he’s ever heard you. “is that not how sex works? you put that in me? like… over and over again?

“baby, please,” his laughs are bordering on uncontrollable wheezing. “you’re making this so unsexy.”

“you made it unsexy first!” you complain. “put it in me, soonyoung!”

he wants to keep pretending that this is incredibly unsexy, but this exchange, however goofy, is just making him want to fuck you even more. “stop saying that!”

“why?! you keep making me wait!” 

the way you complain and beg makes soonyoung briefly forget that you’re losing your virginity, and he isn’t letting that happen without proper foreplay first—without getting at least one orgasm out of you.

“pu—”

before you can tell him to put it in you again, he presses his hand against your mouth. “okay!” he says, raising his voice to drown out your muffled pleas. “okay! shhh. relax, and i will. alright?” your eyes widen and he feels a burn in his stomach when he sees the submission in them. you nod. “good girl.”

you moan into his hand and grind your hips up into his. 

“oh, you like that?” he asks, smirking. all you do is squirm more. 

he releases your mouth, and when you stay silent on your own accord—so willingly compliant—he thinks there are a few things he’d like to try in bed later on down the line.

soonyoung plants a wet kiss on your lips before he rests his hand against your neck, eyes watching as you swallow underneath his fingertips. he thinks you look pretty like this: bare throat adorned by his fingers. he has a passing thought to ask you if you would ever be into being choked, but there’s no fucking way he’d do that during your first time having sex. he lets the thought go, making note of it for a later time. 

“so pretty,” he says, finger tapping your lower lip. when you take his finger into your mouth all the way, sucking it and releasing it with a pop, he has to spend a few moments reminding himself he can’t cum already. “jesus christ…” he sighs. he needs to move fast or he will be embarrassing himself tonight. “let me know if i do anything you don’t like, okay?”

you nod quickly—impatiently. your enthusiasm stutters when he doesn’t immediately “put it in” like you’ve been begging. you frown as he pulls away again, but when he settles with his head between your legs, your tune changes immediately. 

“oh.”

soonyoung has dreamed about this moment for so long. he’s had obscene, vulgar thoughts about you—thoughts he would touch himself to. he’s spent an embarrassing amount of nights moaning your name while vigorously grinding into his fist, and all it took for him to cum was the thought of tasting you. he didn’t even have to think about fucking into your pussy or how wet you would be or how warm you would feel—all he thought about was eating you out until you came all over his face, and that would do it for him. 

if he was looking to get a quick orgasm, maybe release some frustration from a day spent hanging out with you, he’d just rub one out in the shower. but if it was one of those nights he was tossing and turning, thinking about how much he loved you and how much he wanted you to be his, he’d throw his blankets off, grab a bottle of lotion, a box of tissues, and sometimes, when he was feeling especially depraved, his favorite photos he’s taken of you. there was something about looking at photos no one else has seen of you—no matter how ordinary or innocent—that turned him on.

his daydreams always started with getting you sinfully wet. yes, with your own arousal, but with his spit too. he’d massage it into your clit, mixing the both of you and your pleasures together until your hips are bucking and shoving your needy cunt in his face. then, he’d give in and lap your clit gently and the first taste would send his eyes rolling into the back of his head. he would try to stay cool and composed, but realistically, he knew tasting you would send him into a frenzy. 

he’d already be close by this point in his fantasies, whining and groaning, his phone and photos of you long forgotten because he has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from coming before he could finish playing everything out in his head.  

because soonyoung couldn’t cum before his favorite part: when he would imagine shoving his face as far in between your legs as he could, extending his tongue as far into you as humanly possible. you’d say his name the way no one has ever said his name. you’d pull at his hair until he was sure you were permanently damaging all of his follicles. sometimes, he’d immediately cum after this. other times, he’d be able to at least get to the part where he starts fucking you with his fingers. 

on lucky days, he would reach the end of his dreams. by this time, he’d be feverishly tugging on his cock, a mess of sweat and whimpers of your name as he thought about you squirting all over his face. he would drink you up like it’s the fucking elixir of life. you would make the filthiest mess of his face—chin dripping, cheeks sticky, lips swollen and covered in you—and he would thank you for it and beg for more. of course, more would never come because he would make a mess of his own hand after that. 

he always felt like a pervert after—always felt so guilty picturing his best friend like this and doing something so dirty with you in mind—but the next night would come and the next night and the next, and he couldn’t think of anything else. anyone else. 

and as lewd and impure and delicious and downright euphoric as his fantasies were, nothing could have prepared him for how much fucking better the real thing would feel. how much better the real you would taste. 

by the time you cum on his face, not once but twice, he knows this is something he can do for the rest of his life. he would never even need you to fuck him or blow him or give him a handjob; all he literally needs is to devour your cunt any time you’d grant him the privilege to and he’d be a happy man for the rest of his life. 

you’re still panting, chest heaving from your orgasms, when soonyoung climbs up over you once more and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing, nipping, licking, and whispering i-love-yous from your collarbone and up until he reaches your lips. he kisses you lightly just in case you don’t want to put your lips on him after he just ate you out, but when you deepen the kiss and hug him even closer, he thinks you might actually like the taste of you on his mouth. 

“soonie,” you eventually whisper against him. 

“mmm?” 

you say something that he’s been wanting to hear for a decade. you confirm something he’s been desperately searching for signs of for your entire friendship. “i want to be yours. i want to be yours so bad.”

he stops peppering you with kisses and watches you carefully, like this all might still be a hallucination that will fade if he gets too lost in the moment. but you remain where you are, looking at him with as much love as he imagines he’s always looked at you. tears gather in your eyes, some escaping the corners. he catches every single one that does, pressing it back into your skin with his finger. 

when you give him a small smile to tell him you’re okay—that these are just tears of happiness—he leans in, presses his cheek to yours, and promises you, “then i’ll make you mine.”

just being inside you is enough to make soonyoung want to cry. he does his absolute fucking best not to because you already are and he doesn’t want you to think of anything other than yourself and your pleasure during your first time. but he wants to cry as he buries his face into your neck and slowly pushes into you, only moving whenever you say it’s okay to.

when he woke up today, he did it with swollen eyes from a night spent crying over you. he tortured himself all day, thinking about how every last time he had with you was the last and he didn’t even know it—the last laugh he heard, the last smile he saw, the last time you bickered with him, the last time you told him you loved him. he steeled himself to face your tears or your screaming or whatever else you did to him when he ended your friendship. 

at the start of the day, soonyoung was preparing for his life to be over—for you to take every good thing he’s ever had and felt with you when he forced you to walk away.

now, he’s fully buried inside you, forehead resting against yours as you both struggle to adjust to the overwhelming feeling of each other. it’s when you tell soonyoung that after 10 years, there’s nothing that will change your mind about him, that he finally moves. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes as he starts rolling his hips, cock dragging in and out of you in an astonishingly seamless fit. “your cunt is perfect.”

you bloom at the praise, and you don’t shy away from returning it, chanting his name over and over again, whispers of how good he feels wherever you can fit them in between—how good he is for you, how he was made for you. 

“y/n,” he gasps. he tries to tell you that if you keep saying his name like this—like he’s yours—he’s going to cum inside you. but all that comes out is: “oh my god.”

and all you say is “soonyoung” again and again and again. he’s never put any thought into his birth-given name, but tonight, he decides it’s his favorite string of letters. he never wants to hear you say anyone else’s name. he never wants anyone other than you to say his name. it’s yours and yours alone. 

at some point, he can tell you can handle even more, and he pushes up off you, using the headboard as leverage as he pounds into you harder and rougher, rhythm becoming erratic and frenzied. the noises that come out of your mouth are so nasty, he’s on the brim of losing it. 

“oh my god. look at you,” he pants, his sweat dripping from his face, his neck, and his chest onto you. a drop lands on the corner of your mouth, and without hesitating, your tongue darts out to lick it up, and he groans.

it’s too much: your neediness, your obedience, your eagerness. your tits—one sporting his hickey—bouncing wildly as he fucks you at a brutal pace. your unbelievably tight cunt, sucking his cock in so desperately, near-strangling it and refusing to let him go. 

“so fucking perfect,” he tells you. 

you make it clear that you’re not lasting long—that your third orgasm is on the horizon. it’s a bittersweet realization; on one hand, he’s relieved because he’s been holding his own orgasm off since his tongue met your clit. on the other, he never wants to stop fucking you. 

but this is just the start, he tries to remind himself. this is just the first time, and there will be so many more now—now that you’re his and he’s yours. 

your voice rings loudly in his ears again. i want to be yours so bad.

his voice is hoarse when he asks, “do you feel like you’re mine yet?”

you nod frantically, pussy squeezing tightly around him like the thought is pushing you even closer to finishing. “yes, god, yes. yes!” 

“say it,” he demands, eyes never leaving yours. he can’t look away when you look like you would say or do anything for him. 

“i’m yours,” you say immediately. “soonie… i’m yours, soonyoung.” his name comes out in a tortured whimper. 

“i never want to hear another name come out of your mouth ever again,” he declares. “ah, fuck, holy shit. you feel so fucking good, baby. just for me, huh? oh fuck.” his orgasm is begging to be released, but he refuses to let up until you reach yours. “you’re mine. and i’m yours.”

you barely finish agreeing and calling soonyoung “mine” when your pussy is suddenly and violently quivering around him, pulsing and throbbing as you ride through your third orgasm of the night. the feeling of your climax squeezing around soonyoung is unreal, and he pulls out just in time to avoid coming inside of you, painting your beautiful, soft skin with his bliss. 

it feels like it lasts forever, the spurts of white splattering you. he thinks he could get hard again when you let your mouth hang open and catch some of him on your tongue.

“holy shit,” he breathes when he’s tugged himself dry, leaning back and trying to catch his breath. he feels drops of sweat sliding down his body everywhere, his muscles burning deliciously. 

soonyoung looks down at you and is pleased to see you covered with him: his cum, his sweat, his spit. he made good on his promise. if you don’t look like his right now, he has no idea what you look like.

“c’mere,” you whine, reaching for him with grabby hands when you have no energy to sit up and actually take hold of him. 

he smiles and leans in to kiss you, before retrieving a towel from the bathroom to clean you both up with. 

for the rest of the night, you two stay tangled up in each other’s arms and talk about when you fell in love.

you: when you first met him. 

him: when you first walked into the room.

neither of you know if the other is telling the truth or if you’re just trying to win the i-loved-you-first competition (you’re both telling the truth). 

you talk about what the future looks like. you decide you don’t know for sure, but one thing you’re confident about is that you’ll be facing it together. one thing soonyoung is sure about is that he’ll be making you his wife.

you ask if you can make your anniversary two days from now so it doesn’t land on your birthday. soonyoung asks if you can make it two days prior so that he can forget that he was trying to leave you on your 30th birthday. you agree. 

you both run through every big moment either of you can remember being so hopelessly in love with each other, it hurt and what the other person was thinking at that moment. for every memory of yours soonyoung can remember, he’s able to tell you he was suffering just as much as you were. the same is true for you. for every memory he can’t remember, he feels like a kid, giggling and kicking his feet in bed with you hearing about how you were equally, pathetically down bad for him.

your birthday party is long forgotten, traded for an intimate night getting to know each other in drastically different ways than you did as best friends. soonyoung feels like he’s meeting you for the first time again—a privilege he never thought he would be afforded ever again. aside from learning what you liked from your time in his bed tonight, he learns a lot.

like for one, you actually are very into physical affection, something soonyoung thought you didn’t like displaying since you were constantly shoving him away; you just avoided it because it exacerbated your feelings for him and blurred the lines too much for you. in fact, you stay burrowed into his side the entire night, whining any time he moved a tiny bit away, even when it was just to adjust his position or reach to turn off the lamp. you love playing with his hair and tracing little patterns on his chest (he thinks one of the things you traced was your names together). you constantly thread his fingers with yours and when you get tired of that, you still keep your pinkies linked.

he learns you love hanging out at his apartment more than you like the fancy dinners. you feel the most at home with him when you’re actually home with him. you tell him your favorite nights are when you’re in charge of placing a food delivery order at his place while he unwinds from his workday, showering and changing (and unbeknownst to you, probably jacking off in the shower to make sure he doesn’t accidentally get hard while you two hang out). you say it feels like you’re his wife and this is your home too. the sentiment is enough to make him tear up, and you, of course, tease him mercilessly once a fat teardrop lands on your head.

by the time the sun is rising, soonyoung realizes you both have rewritten siquijor in the confines of his bedroom. all the miscommunication (or absolute lack thereof) and the pain and heartbreak have been replaced. from where you two lay in bed, he watches the sun’s rays start to reach into the sky, turning it stunning shades of orange, pink, purple, and blue, and for the first time in seven years, he doesn’t cringe away from it and the feelings of loneliness it used to bring. he doesn’t feel heartbroken all over again like he used to.

this time, the sun rises, and soonyoung feels so ridiculously happy. you quietly watch the sky with him, and he thinks you know what he’s thinking of as you continuously trace hearts, one after the other, never-ending, into his skin.

“it’s a new day,” you say quietly.

“it is,” he agrees, his heart full. “it’s a new day, and i love you even more than i did yesterday.”

you hug him tighter to you even though there is literally no space between you.

“i love you, soonie.” you yawn. “is it time to say good night?”

“it’s morning, baby.”

“no, we didn’t go to sleep. it’s definitely still night.”

he grins and doesn’t bother arguing with that logic. he moves to get out of bed, but you immediately lock your arms so he can’t. he snorts. “i’m just going to pull the curtains so we can sleep.”

you sigh like it’s still an inconvenience, but you release him all the same. “fine. you should get, like, a remote for them or something. isn’t that what rich people do?”

he rolls his eyes as he gets up and closes the curtains, bidding the sunrise—the best of his life—a farewell for now. “rich people stay rich by not buying things they don’t need, baby.”

“i don’t think so,” you disagree, arms opening again for soonyoung to lay back in.

“you know what, whatever you say,” he says as you kiss all the skin you can reach from where you hug him. he preens at the feeling. “you’re always right.”

you hum, smiling against him. “good boyfriend.”

“soon-to-be husband,” he mutters before yawning.

you giggle the same way you have been every time he’s corrected you tonight. “soonie-be-husband.”

he scoffs. “boo,” he heckles you. “bad! get off the stage!” you laugh harder, and it coaxes a soft smile out of him as he watches you.

“best friend” doesn’t seem like such a bad title in this moment anymore. he thinks he gets it now that he’s able to call you even more than that; it’s such an honor to be able to be both your boyfriend and your best friend now. it’s such an honor to be able to build something more on a foundation of friendship as strong as the one he shares with you.

when the laughter subsides, you both sigh, sinking into the bed further and getting comfortable.

“good night, love of mine,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“mine,” you repeat like you can’t get enough of the sound of it. “yours.”

soonyoung smiles and his eyes flutter closed with exhaustion, thoughts bleary but still painted with you and the last 10 years as he starts to drift off to sleep. if this is what he gets to have now, whatever pain he withstood and however much time he wasted is nothing to him—just a moot point in the story you’ll both tell for years to come.

he dreams of you two in siquijor that night, this time both of you sober and wrapped in each other and in love, with the rest of your lives ahead of you.

bonus (performance unit group chat):

[hanniebaeee]

Not Your Type

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing much

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluffff, angst

Summary: He saves you from trouble. And you fall head over heels. You're a rich girl, he's struggling to make ends meet. But love knows no bounds right?

a/n: Ok, so this turned into a whole Kdrama 🤣 But I love this Jinnie so much omg 🥺 I usually don't post on Mondays, but here it is 🤷‍♀️

You knew this dress was a mistake. You hated it the moment your mum shoved it into your hands and demanded you to wear it. 

A shimmery, black number with a cut so high on the thigh you might as well have just worn some glitter and called it a day. But no. This was mum's way of nudging you not so subtly into the marriage market, hoping that some future business heir from this high-society party would take an interest.

And if that dress wasn't enough, your mum had the nerve to slide next to you and poke your ribs with her elbow and say, “Smile, darling. You look like a corpse in designer wear.”

So you gave a withering glare and you left. Stomped out. Heels clicking against the marble dramatically until they clicked on the road dramatically.

You had walked a long way until you registered the silence. You stopped short, swallowing as you took in your surroundings. A quiet alley. Dark.

The moment the reality of your situation crashed in in the form of a shadow in the dark, your knees were already shaking. Literally.

You turned and started speed walking - as fast as those cursed heels let you - but you could hear heavy footsteps behind you, closing in fast. 

Of course this was the perfect time and outfit for a creepy stalker to take interest in you. Of course. The night you looked like an expensive, trembling snack in five-inch heels.

“Hey, princess,” the voice rasped behind you.

Shit.

But before you could even gasp, another figure stepped in between you and the stalker. Tall. Long limbs. Broad shoulders in a dark hoodie. Short dark hair. And cold.

His gaze flicked lazily to your stalker. And he took a step forward. 

“Leave,” he said, voice low and calm. “Now.”

The creep stammered. Blinked. And to your surprise, turned and ran.

Silence.

Then the stranger’s eyes slid to you. You were frozen - heart pounding and barely breathing.

“You’re not from here.” He stated, voice flat.

His gaze ran down your dress - slow and unbothered - and back up. And then he sighed. 

“What kind of idiot walks through this part of the city dressed like that?” Another glance at your outfit. “You’re lucky he was a coward.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning to get stalked, thanks.” You bristled. 

His brows lifted the tiniest bit as he said, “And yet here you are.”

“What’s it to you?” you snapped, crossing your arms.

“Nothing, actually.” He said, and turned like he was about to leave.

“Wait!” you blurted. “Please don't leave me here!”

He stopped and sighed again.

“Where do you live?” You swallowed and told him.

“That's not too far.” He said. “Come on, I'll walk you.”

He started walking, not waiting for you. The nerve. The absolute nerve. You wanted to throw a tantrum right there, but you hurried after him, heels clicking. 

“You know, you could be nicer to the girl you just saved.”

“Oh so I have to save you, and be nice to you. And anything your highness?” 

Your heart flipped. But you caught yourself, but not fast enough, unfortunately, because you were pretty sure that you just imprinted on him like a damn baby duck. 

“Do you treat all damsels like this?” you muttered.

He snorted, the tiniest, briefest smirk ghosting his mouth. “You’re no damsel.”

Damn right. 

“I cannot stop thinking about him.”

“You’re still on this? Seriously?” Your cousin Minho groaned loudly from your bed, face buried in a silk pillow. 

Jeongin, your best friend, didn’t even look up from his phone, as he said, “What’s his name again?”

“I don’t know,” you whined, flopping dramatically onto the bed. “That’s the problem. He saved me from that creep. He was gorgeous…like a fallen angel in a hoodie.”

“Or like a potential criminal.” Minho snorted.

You threw a cushion at him. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

Jeongin sighed deeply, finally looking at you. He was the picture of a perfect young businessman. Perfect black hair. Rolex watch. Already CEO of his father’s company.

“Babe. Seriously. Why him?” he asked. 

“Because,” you huffed, rolling over, “he didn’t care about me. He didn’t even look impressed. Or starstruck. Or interested. Like I was just... normal.”

Minho lifted his head, looking scandalized. “God forbid.”

You pointed at Jeongin. “You. You can find out who he is. I know you can. Call Seungmin and find out for me, please, Innie.”

Jeongin squinted at you like you’d grown two heads. And you'd mentioned Seungmin - Jeongin’s friend (your short term fling from your uni days), and also a lawyer, who had the necessary “contacts”. 

“You want me to run a background check on the stranger who saved you in a back alley? With the help of your ex.” Jeongin repeated. 

“Obviously. He isn't my ex, he's just -”

“Babe. You cannot be serious.”

You flopped again, more dramatically this time.

“Innie, this is a life and death situation.” You stared at the ceiling with a sigh. “I want him.”

Minho sat up and hit you with a pillow. “You are unhinged.”

Jeongin stared at you for a moment and then sighed like his soul was leaking out of his body.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, pulling out his other phone - the shady one. The black one you weren’t supposed to know existed.

“Jeongin!” Minho gasped. “No. Don’t encourage her insanity, so quickly.”

“She’s going to make me anyway,” Jeongin grumbled, typing furiously. “Might as well get it done before she sells her watch to hire a private investigator.”

“That was one time!” you cried.

“Princess. What exactly are you planning when I do find him?” he asked, glancing at you over the screen.

You grinned, wicked and sure.

“Oh, I’m going to marry him. Oh my God.” you squealed and tackled Minho into a hug as he flailed. 

“She’s going to eat this poor man alive.” he wheezed as he wrestled you away.

—

A few hours later:

Jeongin stood in front of you, holding his tablet like it was the Holy Grail.

“I found him.”

You sat up so fast your hair smacked Minho in the face, and he made a disgusted sound, shoving you away.

“Tell me everything,” you gasped.

“Name - Hwang Hyunjin. Lives in a terrible part of town with his single mother and little sister, Yeji - high school, smart kid. He works two jobs. Day shifts at a garage. Night shifts at a diner near the river.” Jeongin read out. 

“Criminal record?” Minho asked, sitting up.

“None. Not even a parking ticket.” Jeongin scrolled. “Guy’s clean. Like... painfully clean. His school record? Top of his class. Wanted to go to art school. Didn’t. Had to stay and take care of the family ‘cos dad's not in the picture, and mum's a bit poorly to work.”

You were silent. Too silent.

Jeongin looked up as he said, “No mob ties. No arrests. He’s just... broke. Really broke. But responsible. Works like a dog to keep his sister in school. And keeps weird rich heiresses safe from creeps, apparently.”

You stared. Heart pounding.

Minho squinted at you. “Oh no.”

“I love him,” you whispered.

Minho threw his arms up. “Jesus CHRIST -”

“I knew he was good.” You grabbed a pillow, hugging it to your chest. “I knew it. I could smell it. Like... honour. And a bit of tragedy.”

“Princess, no.” Jeongin pointed sharply at you. “You can’t ‘love’ someone because you read a background check. That’s insane.”

“I can and I do.” You grinned, full teeth. “I’m going to marry him.”

“Stop. Stop this immediately.” Minho said, shaking his head. “If your mum finds out-”

“Marry him. Have his babies. Take care of his family.” you ranted. 

“You’ve lost your mind,” Minho said, dragging a hand down his face. “Jeongin, you broke her.”

“Babe. You can’t just... show up in his life. You’re from this world.” He gestured grandly around your room. “He’s from a place where if rent is late, the landlord screams through the walls.”

You just smiled.

“All the more reason I want him.”

Minho groaned. Jeongin groaned harder. You flopped back on the bed, sighing dreamily.

Hwang Hyunjin. Beautiful. Big sad eyes and rough hands and a world you weren’t supposed to touch.

The bell above the greasy diner door chimed when you pushed it open. God. It smelled like fried onions and floor cleaner in there.

“Okay, princess,” Jeongin’s voice crackled through your AirPods. “Go seduce the poor man.”

“I hate this,” Minho groaned. “This is actual social suicide. She’s going to die.”

“Shut up, both of you,” you hissed under your breath, sauntering toward the counter. “He’s here. I see him. Oh my God, he's such a dream.”

Hyunjin stood behind the counter, white apron on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and head down as he wiped the counter with a rag.

He glanced up, saw you, froze and narrowed his eyes.

You had half a mind to scramble from there, but you took in a deep breath and walked up to him, sat on the cracked red bar stool and smiled at him.

“Ohhh it’s you,” you said aloud, and heard snickering from your idiot friends on the other side. 

“What are you doing here?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Just here for some coffee-” you said, smiling like a maniac.

Silence. He looked you up and down like you’d fallen from space.

“Coffee,” he repeated slowly. “Here?”

“This is so bad,” Minho whispered.

Hyunjin folded his arms, apron tugging tight.

“Not really your type of place, princess,” he said coolly. “We don’t serve sparkling water or gold-dusted lattes, in case you got lost.”

But you didn't hear half of what he said because you were gazing at him with those big eyes, pupils blown wide and a soft blush covering your cheeks. 

“You’re perfect,” you said without thinking.

“Oh my God,” Jeongin shrieked. “BABE HE JUST INSULTED YOU!”

Hyunjin blinked and frowned as he asked, “What?”

“I…uh…I heard the coffee’s good here!” you yelped. “Just wanted to try it. I love coffee. And local businesses, you know. Love them.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Minho said, cringing on your behalf.

Hyunjin sighed and turned, grabbing the ancient coffee pot.

“She’s gonna drink that sludge and die,” Minho whispered gleefully.

“Babe, you can still run, he’s not watching,” Jeongin said.

Before you could say anything, a chipped mug slammed in front of you. Hyunjin leaned in, eyes sharp.

“Drink.”

You blinked up at him and then lifted the mug. Taking a deep breath, you sipped. And nearly died. It tasted like nightmares and tar. 

Jeongin snorted as he said, “Want me to call an ambulance?”

Hyunjin watched your struggle, his mouth quirking - just barely - as you forced it down.

“Good?” he asked. 

“Delicious,” you coughed, smiling like your life depended on it. “Best... best coffee ever.”

He leaned closer, elbows on the counter and his eyes burned into yours.

“Why are you really here, princess?”

“Oh my God,” Jeongin gasped. “He’s onto you. Abort! Abort!”

“Maybe I like the view?” you offered in a small voice. 

Minho made a dying seal noise and said, “NO. You did not just say that.”

Hyunjin gave you a suspicious look. 

“Try not to choke on it,” he muttered, sliding the sugar jar toward you. “Can’t have you dying here. Bad for the business.”

You nodded, stirring sugar into the horror coffee.

“She’s gone. This is the end. She’s ruined.” You heard Minho groan as Jeongin laughed.

You took another sip, and grimaced. Ok, so you can't do this. Not another sip. So you pushed the awful cup away.

“Ugh. You win,” you huffed, looking up at Hyunjin. “Fuck the coffee.”

Hyunjin leaned on the counter, arms folded, a slow amused smile tugging at his mouth. He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“You think?” he drawled. “Told you it was bad. But you rich types always gotta try things for the thrill, right?”

You pouted, feeling your face heating up. 

“No,” you said loudly, with your heart in your throat. “It’s not the coffee.”

His brow arched, his eyes daring you to speak. 

“I like you, okay?” you blurted. “I really do. You’re the first person I’ve actually liked in…God, forever. And I don’t know how to play the cute, coy girl. So there. I like you.”

The air froze between you as Hyunjin blinked and stared like you’d just spoken parseltongue.

“What?” he said flatly.

“I like you.”

His mouth twitched - but not into a smile. But rather into disbelief and cold annoyance.

“Okay. That’s not funny.” He said, his jaw ticking.  “If that's all, you can leave.”

Your stomach twisted. Oh this was all so wrong. 

“I’m not joking,” you said, sitting up straight. “I swear I’m not. I -”

His hand hit the counter, hard. Not loud, but firm - enough to make you shut up.

“This is my workplace,” he said sharply, but his voice didn't raise at all. “Not your playground. I work double shifts to pay for rent. To buy dinner. To keep my sister in school. Not that you’d know what that feels like.”

You flinched.

“I’m not some shiny toy for you to chase when you’re bored,” he bit out, voice tired, but sharp. “So whatever game you’re playing - stop. Get out. And I’ll pretend this whole thing didn’t happen.”

His chest rose and fell fast, jaw tight. His hand gripped the counter like he wanted to break it.

And you - ridiculous, spoiled, hopeless you - just sat there. Heart racing and face hot.  And wanting him more than ever.

“Hyun-”

“Get. Out.” he muttered again, cold, sharp, final. “Please don't play with my life.”

Oh, you weren't doing this. You weren't used to this - being told off for being simply honest. You were so innocent like that. What did you even do wrong? You were in love, was that a crime? 

So you stood and stepped closer, leaning in till his face was inches away from yours. Hyunjin’s body stilled like a wild animal caught in headlights.

And you smiled, slowly and sweetly. Like you knew something he didn’t.

“How dare you. I know you think I'm some deranged rich girl. But you don't get to say things like that just because I'm rich. I'm human too. And,” you whispered. “Just so you know - I’m gonna marry the fuck out of you, Hwang Hyunjin.”

His eyes blew wide, and his mouth parted in barely concealed shock.

“Because I think you're amazing and I'm in love with you,” your voice cracked, but you held on. “I’m gonna marry you. And then I’m gonna show you what I can really do. Just you wait.”

SILENCE.

And then - 

“AAAAAAAAHHHHH -” Jeongin squealed in your ear like a dying dolphin. So damn loud that your eardrum actually rang. “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SHE SAID IT - SHE PROPOSED IN A DINER - MINHO SHE PROPOSED IN A DINER -”

Hyunjin was frozen. His jaw moved but no words came out. His pretty mouth opened, closed and opened again. Like you’d broken his entire brain.

“Speechless, babe?” you teased softly, and he blinked - once, twice.

“You’ll see, Hyunjin,” you said softly, the hurt showing on your face for the first time since you stepped into the diner, and Hyunjin swallowed hard. 

You straightened, collected yourself, winked, and sashayed your rich, totally humiliated ass right out of that diner, leaving him gaping like you’d hit him with a truck.

---

You wobbled out of the diner with your heart hammering and your throat burning. Your friends watched as you yanked open the car door - Minho’s sleek black Porsche - and threw yourself into the back seat. 

And burst into tears. Loud, ugly, no dignity left tears.

Minho turned slowly in the driver’s seat and sighed.

“Oh my God,” he muttered, staring dead ahead. “Are you seriously crying over diner-boy now?”

Jeongin popped his head between the front seats, grinning like a gremlin.

“Babe,” he cooed. “Babe no, come on. You killed it in there. It was hot. Honestly I nearly asked for your hand myself.”

You sniffed, wiping your eyes. “He hates me.”

“No he doesn’t,” Jeongin said, climbing fully into the backseat beside you and pulling you into a hug. “He was shook. You fried his brain, babe. He doesn’t know what hit him.”

“He told me to get out,” you wailed.

“Maybe because you proposed like a crazy person, while he was at work!” Minho scolded, grabbing a few tissues out of the box in the dashboard, and offering them to you. 

“Shut up, hyung!” Jeongin snapped. “She’s so brave. She’s a queen. She just confessed her love, that's not a crime!”

You sniffed again, and hugged Jeongin tighter.

“I’m gonna marry him,” you mumbled miserably.

Jeongin grinned wide. “Damn right you are.”

The next morning:

Hyunjin shoved open the garage door - his face dark and tired. Chris, the owner of the garage, glanced up from the ledger he was looking at.

“What's that face for?” he asked, walking around the little counter and walking towards the garage door to swat his younger brother Felix, who was ogling at a girl outside.

“Stop flirting with her, Lix! Her dad’s gonna kill you, and then throw her in a convent. So please get back to -”

“Hyung! She smiled at me!” Felix whined, rubbing his head. “Ahhhh she smiled!!”

Chris glared. “Get back to work, right now.”

Hyunjin sighed loudly and sat down on an old toolbox.

“And you,” Chris said, pointing at Hyunjin. “What happened?”

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, “She happened.”

“She who?” Felix’s head popped up from behind a car. “The rich girl?”

“That girl,” Hyunjin muttered.

“OHHHHH?”

Hyunjin shot him a look. “Shut up.”

Chris smirked. “And?”

“She came to the diner last night. Said she liked me. Confessed. Right there. And told me she's gonna marry me.”

“Holy shit,” Felix breathed, looking way too excited for someone who just got swatted for slacking.

“And what did you do?” Chris asked, trying to hide the fact that he was trying not to laugh. 

“I may have kicked her out of the diner…and she may have left crying…”

Felix gasped so loud.

“HYUNJIN YOU DON'T MAKE GIRLS CRY!” he scolded, his beautiful face set in a scowl. 

“I had to,” Hyunjin whined. “I’m not dragging someone like that down here. What am I supposed to do, make her eat instant ramen and ride the subway? She’s not built for this life. She thinks she is. But she’s not.”

Chris leaned on a car, eyes wide. “But you like her.”

“What?” Hyunjin said, looking surprised.

“You obviously like her.”

“Maybe.” Hyunjin exhaled, looking pained. “She's adorable, ok? She looks at me with those big sparkly eyes and I'm gone. Like when I helped her with that creep? She looked at me like that. And yesterday? She looked at me like that again, and I wanted to die. I just wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole, because I know I don't deserve her, but now it's gonna kill me to see her marry some CEO and carry on with her life -”

“Man. You’re so doomed.” Felix said with a grin. 

Hyunjin groaned, covering his face with his hands. 

You were strolling down the street with Minho, sipping on bubble tea, looking totally depressed.  Well, that was until your face lit up like a Christmas tree as your eyes fell on him. Across the street. You gripped Minho's arm so tight, it made him yelp.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Lino look!!’

Minho's eyes followed you. And there came Hwang Hyunjin, with a pretty teenage girl beside him - his sister, had to be - and they were laughing at something.

“He looks so happy. Are you gonna terrify him in the middle of the street, darling?” Minho asked, sipping his coffee.

“I mean, I have say hi to my sister-in-law, don't you think?”

“You're unhinged.”

“I learned from you.” You quipped with a shrug, before waving at Hyunjin. 

He slowed the moment his eyes locked onto yours. And they widened in horror. 

“Hyunjin!” you chirped, and Minho stopped dead beside you. 

Hyunjin froze like an animal in headlights. Again. Yeji blinked up at him and then, across the street at you.

“Who's that?” she whispered, tugging at his sleeve. 

You beamed and bounced across the street with Minho sighing and trailing behind like a weary dad.

“Hi!” you greeted brightly, waving.

Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting everywhere but your face. Yeji was glancing between you both and her narrowed, seeing her brother’s ears turn a bright shade of red. 

“This is...uh…” Hyunjin coughed. “This is...a friend.”

“A friend?!” Minho hissed in your ear. “When did that happen? When did that happen?!”

You elbowed him sharply, grinning at Yeji.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said, smiling sweetly. “It’s so nice to meet you. You must be Yeji, right?”

Her face lit up as she nodded.

“Oh, your brother talks about you all the time,” you teased, shooting Hyunjin a glance.

He choked.

“I don’t -”

“Oppa, you didn’t tell me you had such a pretty friend!” Yeji giggled and you giggled back - like two old friends already.

Hyunjin’s eyes met Minho's, who stood beside you, utterly silent, sipping his bubble tea with the sourest poker face you’d ever seen.

“Hyunjinnie, how come you didn't invite her over for dinner?” She said, giving Hyunjin a teasing look, and then turned to you and said, “Do you wanna come home for dinner? He’s cooking tonight!”

“No, she doesn’t -” Hyunjin started, panicking.

“Yes I do!” you gasped, clapping your hands. “I’d love to!”

Hyunjin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Like he was praying to every god he knew. Because honestly, his heart ached seeing that smile on your face.

“It’s nothing fancy, but you’ll come, right? I wanna hear how you met oppa!” Yeji saud and you nodded. 

“Oh, I’ll tell you everything,” you laughed.

“Of course you will. Of course you will.” Minho groaned softly beside you. 

---

You stood in front of Hyunjin’s apartment door with a paper bag in one hand and flowers in the other. You have been standing outside his door for like ten minutes now, trying to gather your thoughts. You were scared to death. You really were. 

You so desperately wanted him to like you, but that sharp stab every time he looked so done with you didn't help. Neither did the butterflies in your tummy. 

Just as you raised your hand to knock, Hyunjin opened the door. Seeing your panicked face, he grinned and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed across his chest. 

“Were you gonna stand here all night?” He teased and yeah. All that sass and courage leaked out of your body and left the chat real quick.

“I was gonna knock.” You said, indignantly.

“Like you were gonna knock that last five times?”

“Shut up.”

“My home, my rules.”

“Well, it's gonna be mine soon. So there.” you said, you face so close to his, and he looked away, but still had that grin intact. 

But he had to give it to you. You looked like a dream in your pale pink dress, hair loose, face fresh, holding flowers and chocolates like you were here to charm a kingdom.

“Who’s at the door, Hyunjin?” his mother called from the kitchen.

Yeji popped into view behind him, eyes going huge.

“Y/N! Why are you just standing there?! Come in! Mum look!”

You grinned and held out the flowers, just as his mum came into view. 

“For you, princess. And these are for you, Mrs. Hwang. I hope it’s okay.”

“They're beautiful!” Yeji gasped, grabbing them.

Hyunjin stepped back silently, watching you charm his mum and sister. You slid past him with a wink.

“Smells amazing in here. Can I help?” you asked. 

His mum smiled, sweet and tired, and said, “Of course you can help. Hyunjin, give her an apron!”

He fumbled one off the hook, muttering under his breath.

“You really don’t have to -”

“But I want to,” you cut in, tying the apron with a grin. “Tell me what to do.”

And just like that, you were in, chopping garlic beside his mother and stirring soup with Yeji chattering happily beside you. You laughed when his mum teased you about your useless rich-kid knife skills, and showed you how to do it right.

And Hyunjin? He leaned against the counter, watching it all unfold. Stealing glances every moment he could.

He didn’t mean to. He'd promised himself not to dream about something he knew wasn't possible for him. But here you were in his little kitchen, hair in a messy bun, sweating in the kitchen heat, and laughing so sweetly when his mum scolded you for cutting the tofu too thick. And his chest squeezed.

Damn it. You looked like you belonged there. Like you fit. Like you could stay forever. Even though his poor heart screamed the reality. 

Yeji hooked your arm, giggling, telling you some story about Hyunjin, and you laughed, throwing your head back - so unapologetically… you. 

Hyunjin felt his ears burn, and his cheeks burn. His entire body burned. His mother leaned in close to him, smiling.

“She’s sweet,” she said softly. “I like her.”

Hyunjin swallowed hard and shook his head. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he muttered, eyes flicking to you.

“I think you’d be lucky, boy.” His mum patted his arm, and Hyunjin really didn’t know what to say to that.

Because you were stirring soup in his kitchen, smiling like sunshine. And he was already losing this war.

A few weeks later:

Hyunjin had just started his evening shift at the diner and it was unusually quiet, except for the soft clink of cutlery and the low hum of old music crackling from the radio.

Hyunjin wiped down the counter, shoulders stiff, and his eyes tired. And then the doorbell chimed. He looked up expecting his usual trucker gang. But it wasn't them.

It was Jeongin - waltzing in like he owned the place, his silk shirt gleaming. He grinned his beautiful boyish grin as he sat on the exact barstool you had sat on some days ago.

Hyunjin went on to stacking the coffee cups for no real reason, avoiding Jeongin’s eye. 

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Hyunjin muttered without glancing up, “it’s a no.”

Jeongin propped his chin on his palm, and said, “Don’t be like that, hyung. I came for coffee. And maybe to give you some unsolicited advice.”

Hyunjin scowled. “No coffee. No favors. No schemes.”

Jeongin sighed, dramatic as hell.

“You’re so difficult. I get it, you don’t like me, I’m too rich, too flashy, blah blah.” He waved a hand. “But you like her, don’t you?”

Hyunjin froze, the last cup on his stack wobbling. 

“That’s none of your business,” he said quietly.

“Wrong,” Jeongin smiled. “She’s my best friend. It’s exactly my business.”

Hyunjin’s jaw ticked as he gave Jeongin a glare. 

“She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t want this. Or me.” He hissed. “She’ll hate this life. Give her time. She’ll wake up.” 

Jeongin leaned forward, and sajd, “She’s not asleep, hyung. You are.”

Hyunjin shot him a warning glance, but Jeongin kept going, softer now.

“You think you’re protecting her. Like she’s some delicate princess in a glass tower.”

Hyunjin frowned.

“But you don’t know her like I do.” Jeongin’s voice dropped, gentle and serious now. “She looks strong and loud and stubborn. I know. But she’s the softest, most breakable thing I’ve ever met. So good. So stupidly genuine. And if it’s not you…” He shrugged. “It’ll be some rich husband. Some billionaire. Yes. You think she deserves that. But do you really want her to have a pretentious empty life? She’ll smile in pretty dresses and die quietly inside. Have you seen her smile, Hyunjin? The one she has when she talks about you? I have.”

The silence stretched between them. Hyunjin put the wobbly cup down and sighed. 

“It’s not fair to her,” he whispered. “I can’t give her anything.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want things, hyung. Maybe she wants you.” Jeongin smiled softly. "Besides, what's wrong in letting her give for a change?"

Hyunjin looked down - his chest feeling tight. Like even breathing hurt. Because no matter how many times he told himself that he can't do this, the way you babied Yeji and cooked with his mum, so many times over the weeks, had his heart completely surrendering to you. 

“She deserves better.” he said, his voice a whisper.

“She deserves what she wants,” Jeongin said gently. “And she wants you.”

The bell above the door jingled again and Jeongin stood, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.

“Think about it, hyung.” He smiled, knowing. “She loves you.”

And with that, he left, leaving Hyunjin staring at the cup in front of him. Chipped and old. And wondering if Jeongin was right.

But his thought bubble popped as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, and pressed the phone to his ear, ignoring the ‘no phones during working hours’ policy. 

“Hey mum-”

---

Hyunjin burst into his apartment, panicking. 

“Yeji?”

His little sister sat curled on the couch, face buried in a cushion, sniffling like the world had ended. Their mum stroked her hair gently, looking absolutely worried.

“She won’t talk to me.” she said. “She hasn't said a word since she got home.”

Hyunjin's eyes fell on the big blotches of ink stains on her white uniform shirt, his heart squeezing in worry. 

“Yeji, come on.” Hyunjin crouched beside her. “Talk to me. Who did this?”

She just sniffled. And it hurt Hyunjin more because she was the sweetest child. She knew Hyunjin did everything he could to give her a reasonably good life. He did take up extra work apart from his diner and garage jobs, whenever he could. She hated to burden him. Or their mum. He knew that. 

Hyunjin sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

“Damn it,” he muttered, and grudging, almost desperately, he pulled out his phone.

And did the thing he never thought he'd do. 

---

Twenty minutes later, you blew into the apartment like a spring breeze, in a soft sundress and pretty sandals. And a giant stuffed bunny under one arm.

Jeongin strolled in behind you with grocery bags and the smuggest grin ever as he placed a few tubs of ice cream on the kitchen counter.

“Where’s my baby?” you said softly, kneeling beside Yeji. “Hey, princess. Wanna tell me what happened?”

Yeji peeked out from the pillow, eyes huge and wet. For a long, awful moment - she said nothing. Hyunjin and his mum watched as she quietly stood up, took your hand and led you inside to her bedroom. 

And now, seated on her bed, she held your hand and said, “They...called me poor…said my clothes were ugly. Called me trash... and...and poured ink all over me and laughed at me, because they know I would go back with this shirt again...”

And she broke, his tiny little sobs absolutely breaking your heart. Your eyes went soft as you held her as she cried. You saw Hyunjin peeking through the crack in the door, taking a step back as he saw his sister in your arms. 

Hyunjin's back hit the wall, a hand over his heart as he willed himself not to cry. He felt so terribly guilty.

“Yeji,” you said gently. “Look at me.”

She did. 

"First of all," you whispered, "anyone who says something like that is smaller than a speck of dust. Second, you know what I see when I look at you?"

Yeji blinked.

"I see someone kind. Someone smart. Someone who’s gonna grow up and run the world. And, you should know that bullies always end up in the gutter…at some point of time."

A soft, tiny smile graced her face. 

"There it is," you grinned. "That pretty smile. Just like your brother's."

Yeji laughed a teary laugh and sniffled.

“Of course you'll say that,” she teased in a shaky voice.

Hyunjin heard you laugh, and even through his tears, he smiled.

“Will you allow me to fix this?” you asked.

“Can you?” Yeji's eyes were big as she asked that.

“Of course, you're my family now. And no one messes with my family.”

Yeji giggled softly, and Hyunjin’s heart cracked a little. Then a lot.

“And you have this now.” You plopped the giant bunny into her lap. “Hold on to this, and consider it done.”

Yeji giggled harder and hugged the bunny tight.

You stood, smoothing your dress, and stepping out of the room to find Hyunjin standing right outside. You could see that his beautiful eyes were moist and he was trying so hard to not let it show.

“Don't worry, Hyunjin, I'll handle it.” you said.

“Wait, what?” Hyunjin said, alarmed. “What are you -”

But you were already walking out the door, grabbing Jeongin’s arm like a handbag.

“Let’s go, Innie. We’ve got bullies to end.”

“No violence!” Hyunjin called out. “Y/N!”

You stopped so abruptly on hearing Hyunjin say your name (probably for the first time) that Jeongin walked straight into you and stumbled.

You turned around, trying not to let your emotions display on your face as you said, “Of course not,” 

The next day, when Hyunjin arrived at the principal’s office at Yeji's school, you were already there, laughing with the principal. 

A few teachers and four girls stood by the side, shifting nervously. You were dressed in a dark blue dress, hair styled perfectly, with a smug look on your face.

“Hyunjinnie, come, sit,” you said, and the principal was quickly on her feet, welcoming Hyunjin in like he was the president. 

Hyunjin shuffled in and took a seat next to you, completely lost. And you slid a file across the table toward the principal, and said, “And that is a formal complaint against the girls bullying my sister-in-law. I have such low tolerance to bullying, but obviously you are such a capable educator, I'm sure you'll handle the situation well. If not, I'll have my lawyer pay a visit, since we already know the lowlifes who ignored all the previous complaints -”

The principal shook her head vigorously, and the teachers on the side looked horrified. So did the girls. And Hyunjin was glancing at you and then those teachers with wide eyes. 

“We'll let the principal handle this for now, right, Hyunjinnie?” You said, turning to look at Hyunjin, who nodded and said, “Yeah. Yes.”

“Oh good!” You said, standing up, throwing those girls one last death glare. And Hyunjin stood up too, and followed you out of the office.

“What did you do?” He asked, catching up with you.

“Oh nothing much. Just a few new computers. New library shelves and books, and -” You smiled sweetly. 

“Ohh so you didn't flex your money at all.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. 

“Oh please. No one messes with my family, babe,” you shot back. “I take my sister-in-law duties very seriously.”

You winked and Hyunjin stared, his heart fully betraying him. Because he was this close to accepting the fact that he was in love with you. 

You turned with a swish and strolled past him like the queen you were.

“See you at dinner, Hyunjinnie.”

He caught your hand, suddenly, and you turned, your eyes falling on his hand and then looking up. 

“Hey.” Hyunjin said, his ears turning red. “Thank you.”

You smiled, a truly lovesick giddy shy smile, and ran off - leaving him standing there. Blushing and breathless. And absolutely, 100%, hopelessly doomed.

---

Later that night:

Dinner was done. You and Yeji were howling with laughter as you told her all about how her bullies begged and apologized. And their mum, smiling as she watched. 

Now as you carried the dishes to the sink, where his mum was washing the dishes, Hyunjin came up to you. 

“Hey,” He muttered awkwardly. “A word?”

Your eyes met, and you nodded, before following him into his room. 

Door closed, and Hyunjin sighed, back to you, hand on the handle, steadying himself.

“Listen, I’m trying to make this make sense in my head,” he began, voice strained. “You can’t just…do things like that. Being here. Charming my mum. Fixing things for Yeji. Make my heart -”

He stopped, and turned. And saw you gazing at him like he was the only star in the entire sky. Like he'd hung the moon. Like you were so gone for him -  it made him absolutely dizzy.

“God,” he whispered. “I can’t do this. I can’t -”

And then he grabbed you, and cupped your face, breathless, and kissed the hell out of you.

No warning, no hesitation, no self control. Just pure unfiltered need. You gasped, and then melted into him, clutching his shirt as he walked you backward to the bed, lips moving together. The back of your legs hit the bed, and you fell back pulling him down with you. And of course -

SQUEAK. The world’s loudest, most traitorous bed squeak.

“Shit -” Hyunjin muttered against your mouth, trying to stop the metal springs from screaming.

“Fuck, they’ll hear -”

You grinned into his kiss, holding on to him tighter. “Hyunjin... they already know...”

He groaned softly, forehead dropping to yours.

“I swear to God, hold still. Or they’re gonna totally misunderstand this.”

SQEEEEAK.

The bed protested again as you shifted deliberately, smug as hell.

His eyes flew wide and he whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

You gave him a wicked grin, your fingers running through his hair now, and his jaw tightened. He closed his eyes as your nails raked over his scalp.

“Woman, you’re going to ruin me.”

“You like it,” you whispered.

He groaned, helplessly and then kissed you again. And you adjusted underneath him and the bed screamed again. 

“We're gonna need a new bed if-” You said matter of factly. 

“Yeah yeah, we do-”

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @hwangjoanna @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120 @silly250 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @sammhisphere @soona-huh @princesskrystix

[xmunsonlovex]

Somewhere I Belong

Summary: You leave home for a new opportunity in Hawkins. You're on your own, and your first day, you meet your metal head neighbor. Will this be the start of something that you've always been longing for, or will you keep it at a distance, as you always do.

Pt.2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

wc: 8600+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. female reader, reader has low self esteem and a lot of insecurities, slight angst, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc) mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral(f!receiving) reader is inexperienced and a virgin, mutual pinning, idiots in love, eventual smut in later chapter(s), Eddie is little bit of perv, but only for you.

a/n: It's here, guys. A day earlier than I had originally set myself to release it. I had to break it up into multiple parts, which I am currently writing already. I hope to have pt.2 out next week. That'll be the smutty chapter, for those wanting to see these 2 take the next step. Thank you to whoever reads this, I hope you like it. While I've read HUNDREDS of fics from all you lovely loves here on Tumblr, this is my first fic I have ever written. I think I read it over at least 20 times. I'm sure there are still many grammatical errors and things I may have missed. Please let me know if you like it. Please reblog and comment your thoughts 💗

Dividers by: saradika-graphics

You huffed as you placed the last box of your belongings on the carpeted floor. This definitely needs to be replaced, you thought as you looked at it. The move to Hawkins was grueling, between heavy traffic and nasty weather, you were trying to just make it there in one piece. Thankfully you did, and now you stood in the middle of your living room, taking in your new surroundings. It's around 6pm, and it's starting to get dark. You felt lucky to have a nice view of the sunset from your backyard, if you could call it that. It was a small section with enough space for maybe a little garden (you’ve always dreamt of growing your own veggies), and patio chairs. You had found the relatively inexpensive trailer for sale in a community called Forest Hills in Hawkins. Looking at the photos, you knew it needed some repairs. A new paint job too, maybe, but with your new job in the city, you figured you'd make it your own in no time. It was supposed to pay fairly well too, working as an administrative assistant.

You walk over to the kitchen, checking the fridge and stove. All seemed to work fine for now, and with that, you were putting away your kitchen belongings in the cupboards, making note to fix the wobbly door to each cabinet. A box of Mac and Cheese sat on the counter while you boiled some water in a small pot, and then started to cut up some cucumbers and cherry tomatoes, making your favorite salad. You were singing to yourself as you made your food, that you didn't hear the knock on the door. It was soft at first, but quickly became louder after the 4th knock. You grabbed a towel to dry off your wet hands, and walked to your front door, looking through the peephole, but could not make out who was on the other side. You opened the door just a bit, and see a frizzy- haired man, who didn't look much older than you. He sported a denim jacket with lots of heavy metal band patches on it. That definitely caught your eye. 

"Hey Jack-" He turned his head to look at you, then scratched at his cheek. "You're not Jack.." He said. 

"Hi, no. I'm not. I'm guessing he's the one I bought this trailer from though..?" You asked, a small smile on your lips. He was cute, you thought. 

"Makes sense. I haven't seen him in like..2 weeks. I thought maybe he went on vacation then got another car.." he pointed to your shitty car that sat on your driveway, practically falling apart. "You left the trunk open. I um..closed it for you. Don't want any raccoons to get in there.." He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

You smiled at him, and nodded. Of course you left it open. "Thank you. I was doing a million things at once.." You sighed, and rubbed your forehead. "I just moved in today. I'm Y/N, by the way.." you say, noticing him smile softly when you mentioned your name. "I'm Eddie. I live next door to you.." He nodded towards his trailer and then kicked a rock as he looked down, making sure it went to the side rather than in your home. "Well, nice to meet you, Eddie. I uhm, I'll see you around? I have dinner cooking right now. Don’t want to burn down my new home.”  You said with a chuckle.

 “Yeah. Maybe I can show you around town..whenever you're free." He says quickly. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes, they could put you in a trance.  "I'm usually home by 5:30..and I'm off on Sundays." 

“Ok, yeah, I like that idea. I’m off on the weekends, so that works out.” You say.

He felt a giddiness inside him, the thought of making a new friend and even the possibility that the friendship could turn into something more, gave him butterflies. Hope, even. For so long, he was used to being blamed for the events that happened in Hawkins. For so long..he was called a freak and spat at for his taste in music. He wasn't a bad guy, at least he didn't think so. Steve and Robin, and the boys (who were all graduated now) didn't think so. So why was it so hard for him to make other friends? To get a date? He was tired of the meaningless sex that usually transpired at The Hideout, not that it happened often. He wouldn't call himself a ladies man by any means, or someone the girls would seek after. Most times, girls wanted something from it. A little weed. Or maybe the right to brag that they had a quickie with a front man of a rock-band. They never specified which band, though. So when the opportunity arose to show a pretty, new girl around town, he was absolutely going to take the chance to do that. 

"I'll stop by Sunday. I can show you around town, and where to go for all the good food places. Maybe I can take you..to get some groceries, if you need. I don't mind." Eddie offered. 

"Ok, yeah, thank you, Eddie. I uhm...gotta get going though, but I’ll see you Sunday." You try to sound confident, but it comes out a bit shy and timid, instead. He says goodbye, and you watch him jog to his trailer, looking over at you and waving before going inside his home.  You can't help but bite your lower lip, knowing he would be trouble. You weren't exactly looking for a relationship, not romantically anyway. It was embarrassing to think about the fact you had no experience aside from a few pecks on the lips from the 3 dates you had gone on back at home. The dates always ended with a "I had a nice time, but I think we should see other people." You weren't sure if you were maybe too boring for them, or maybe it was your looks? Your self esteem had always been low, even back to when you were in middle school. Kids were relentless and brutal. 

High school was no better. Girls were rude and mocked you for your style, or lack thereof. Boys were cruel too. Laughing when you once tripped over your own feet, nervous around a football player you liked. He looked at you apologetically but it didn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth when your knees and palms slammed on the tile floor. You were 23 now and still remembered it like yesterday. It was the reason you left home. Your mom was sad, she'd definitely miss you but understood the change you needed in your life. She wasn't about to stop you from becoming a better version of yourself. And this was your chance. 

Sunday rolled around way quicker than you anticipated. Between putting away the remainder of your items around the house and doing a deep clean; you were exhausted. But, looking forward to the city tour with your new neighbor. You had woken up earlier than usual to have a shower and a quick breakfast to settle your growling stomach from skipping dinner the night before. After finishing your food, and cleaning up the kitchen, you grabbed your purse and keys, setting them on the small console table by the door as you pace around, growing a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to show you around? He probably had better things to do. Your thoughts were promptly silenced as a knock was heard. Giving it a couple of seconds to not seem too eager, you then walked to your door and opened it. Eddie smiled. You could tell he was freshly showered, his hair still a little wet and the smell of soap mixed with some cologne invaded your nostrils. 

"Morning, I have an appointment with Ms. Y/N." He said, with a sheepish smile. You giggled. 

"Good Morning, sir. Yes, I'll be happy to help you with that. Please come in and take a seat. She will be right with you. Could I offer you some water?" You say in your most professional voice. Eddie was in your home now, admiring your decor. It was simple but you. There were some framed photos on the wall; and a light blue couch taking up quite a bit of space in the living room. 

"Huh? Oh yes, thank you ma'am." He said and took a seat on the couch, that intoxicating smile now reaching his eyes. "You're a metal fan." He said, noticing your CD and vinyl collection by the TV stand. "Hmm. Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath...Dio??" He said excitedly, holding the vinyl for Holy Diver. Oh, he's going to have to marry you, now.

"Yeah, I love them. My dad’s a huge fan. Would put the album on when I was younger." You say, smiling at the fond memories, then hand over a glass of cold water to Eddie, who accepts it with a smile. "I fear that you will never get rid of me, now. These are my favorite bands. Not to mention...there is some stuff here that I haven't listened to yet..you have quite the extensive library, sweetheart." He chuckled. The heat that emitted from your cheeks at the nickname was for sure evident, you thought. No way he didn’t see the pink tint on your face. And he did. He proudly gave himself a mental high-five for making you blush. 

"Alright, let's get going. I have loads to show you." Eddie said after drinking the water you so kindly offered him. 

Eddie took you around to all his favorite spots in Hawkins, starting with showing you where your new job was located, then drove back south towards Hawkins again. You learned a lot about him while he drove you around. He was 25, worked as a mechanic at a local auto repair shop, and on some weekends, he'd play with his band, Corroded Coffin, at a bar called The Hideout. You said you'd definitely go see him play and that you were sure he sounded amazing, despite him saying otherwise. That made him blush this time around.  

"So, this is where I went to high school, figured I'd show you since it's on the way to the farmers market you wanted to go to." He tapped on the steering wheel. His hands couldn’t stay still, between either the tapping or him playing air drums to the song that quietly played on his radio.

“Kind of looks like my school...but mine was filled with the most obnoxious and hateful people I'd ever met." You say, your tone a bit softer. "It's the main reason I left home. Everyone I knew...they held this standard of 'I'm better than you.' A lot of people with money. An easy life. Meanwhile, my mom worked her ass off all day and night to keep our mouths fed." You then fell quiet for a bit. "I hated my high school years.." You chuckle faintly and look over at him, who looked back at you while he waited at a red light. "I know all about that.." He nodded. "I wasn't a...popular guy in high school either. I was bullied here and there, but most people left me alone. They didn't want to mess with the one guy who dealt them their weed. Or whatever drug they needed." He said, a little bit of a white lie but you didn't need to know the whole story. With that, he winked at you with a small smirk, and drove to the farmers market. 

"What?! How can you not like cucumbers? They're so tasty! With some salt and ranch. So good." You said, laughing as he made a gagging face while you picked some fresh fruit and placed them in the basket you were holding. "Respectfully darling, they taste so bland. Like crunchy water." 

You scoff and shake your head. "They’re super healthy, though. If you ever come over for lunch or something, I'll make you my special tomato and cucumber salad. It has some dill weed in it. And ranch. You'll love it."

"I take it back. I don't think I can hang out with you anymore. Dill weed? You're killing me here." He joked. The laugh that you let out was now his favorite sound in the world. A genuine laugh at his lame attempt at joking around with you. 

After you paid for the fruits, he gently placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the next stall, which was selling homemade sauces and jams. The older woman on the other side of the table gives Eddie a rather unpleasant look, then notices you. What she can only imagine to be this innocent young woman who is being put under a spell by Eddie the "devil worshipper". This worried her. It took her no time to pull out a pamphlet of their local church, and handed it to you, but you immediately shut that down, and handed it back to her. 

"I appreciate the suggestion, but..I'm not really religious. Thank you. I'd just like to buy-"

"I will not sell my items to devil worshippers like you and Munson, here." Her tone immediately changed to unfriendly and unwelcoming. Eddie felt himself start to get angry, not so much of what she said about him. He was used to that. But because now you'd been given the same treatment as him, and you didn't deserve that. You were sweet. And so beautiful. Welcomed him with a smile rather than spiteful comments and-

“That's OK. I can go spend my money elsewhere. I saw a few stalls that had better prices, actually. And frankly, they also seemed nicer. I can't imagine your jams and sauces taste any good when you have such hate in your heart.” You say. It wasn't meant to be an insult or anything of that nature, you genuinely didn't know why she was being so mean to Eddie. He looked at you, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Come on, I know the one.” Eddie grabbed your hand, leading you to a different part of the market. Near the parking lot. 

“Hi Sammy. Y/N, is this what you're looking for?” He asked you, this vendor was selling lots of different jams. He'd known about him from The Wheelers. Particularly Nancy. “You bring me a new customer? Eddie. How can I ever repay you?” Sammy smiled fondly at him. One of the very few people in town that treated Eddie with some dignity. 

“Yes. I'm new in town. Wanted to check out the local farmers market. See what you guys had.” You smile shyly. Eddie came to the conclusion that you were quite shy by nature. Not that he was observing every small detail of you on purpose. Or maybe..

“Oh, Eddie. She's so sweet! Polar opposites, I see.” He joked and Eddie glared at him, with no real mean intention behind it. “Teasing. Eddie's a great guy. You've made a wonderful friend.” He hyped him up, trying to be a wingman of sorts. 

“I agree.” You simply say, worried you'd start babbling. Wouldn't be the first time, and instead, you offer Eddie a warm smile as you look at him, a look that lingered for a couple seconds longer than usual. “Alrighty lovebirds. What can I get for yah?” Sammy smirked, looking at both you and Eddie, noticing the flustered expressions. Oh, young love. 

“Um, yes. I would like the grape, blackberry and..peach jam, please.” You say, your face is on fire as you stutter your words. Get a hold of yourself. You hadn’t known Eddie for more than a week, and already you were a mess. Stumbling over your words, blushing every time his fingertips brushed your skin or sent a sweet nickname your way. Eddie is definitely going to be the death of you. Sammy hands you the 3 jars of jam, and puts them in a brown paper bag, adding a smaller jar in there with the others. “This one is my famous strawberry jam. My bestseller. This sample is on me. Let me know if you like it.” He says, smiling sweetly as he hands you the bag. You pull out your wallet, and go to grab some money, but Eddie stops you, grabbing his own wallet quicker.  “I got it..” He mumbled with a smile, and before you could put up a fight, he slapped a 20 dollar bill on Sammy’s palm. “I'll see you, Sam.” Eddie says and he guides you two to walk over to his van. 

“Anything else you want to do?” He asked, opening the door for you and watching as you go in, his eyes admiring the round of your ass. He shakes the impure thoughts from his mind, and watches you buckle yourself in.

“We can head home. Maybe I can make you some lunch? At…my place. If-if you want. I don’t want to impose, or anything. I’m sure you’re a busy guy and all-” He chuckles at your rambling, thinking you couldn’t possibly be any cuter than you already were. Oh, he’s in trouble, as well. 

“Let’s go have some lunch. I guess I’ll try this special cucumber and tomato salad you keep trying to sell me on. With the dill weed and ranch.” He smirked, and gently shut the door to his van, then went around and got in the driver side, buckling in. “Ready, madam?” He said, shaking his wild mane side to side. He turned his head towards you, and gave you a goofy smile as he started the van, and then drove out of the parking lot. You softly laughed at his antics, already enamoured with him. “Hey Eddie, can I ask you something?” You cautiously say, not sure whether this would offend him. “Hm.” He replies, turning left to get into the correct lane towards the trailer park. “Do people really think you’re a satanist? I mean..if..you are, I promise I am not bothered by it. I don’t put down anyone’s beliefs. Unless you’re a shitty person. Which I do not believe you are. You’ve been really nice to me.” You say, once again, rambling. “I am. Why do you think the whole town gives me such scared looks? Poor Jeannie, the lady with the jams, was so upset when I sacrificed her chickens and goats. But..I needed them! I wish she’d just understand.”  He sighed, shaking his head and then glanced at you, finding you wide-eyed. “I’m joking, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh, and came to a full stop right before their turn. “This town is very stuck on old beliefs. I like metal music, and the media painting it as the devil’s music a few years ago certainly didn’t help my case. I also played dungeons and dragons in high school, still do actually. And this whole place came after me with pitchforks.” He once again left out some important key facts regarding the history of Hawkins. A conversation for another day, perhaps. “Not everyone is horrible, but I’ve kept my circle small for this very reason.” He added.

Once he arrived back at the trailer park, he parked his van at his place after dropping you off at your front door like a gentleman. He said he’d come over in about 20 minutes, saying he had a few calls he had to make. You didn’t ask any questions, and instead focused on getting started on lunch. Your “special” salad, along with some sandwiches, chips and 2 glasses of cold cokes. You hoped he would enjoy it, now second guessing everything you just did. To the paper plates you placed the food on, to the silly Halloween table cloth you had put on your small dining table. It was only March. You thought of earlier as you sat on your couch waiting for him. When he placed his hand on the small of your back. His hand felt like fire on you, over your clothes and yet, you recall the goosebumps traveling all over your body from such a simple and soft touch. You wondered how his hands would feel on other parts. Your shoulders. Massaging out years of tension and stress. Wondered how his hands would feel if he held your cheek in a romantic manner. Or what they would feel like caressing your neck down to your arms, until they were in an area you wanted to feel him the most. You shut your eyes tightly, and lean your head back against the top of the cushion on the couch, letting out a soft sigh.Your insecurities overwhelming you as you sat there alone with your thoughts. 

“Steve, I..I need your guidance here, man.” Eddie panicked over the phone, pacing his small kitchen, playing with the phone cord out of habit. “What are you talking about? You got this. It’s like a damn movie. A cute girl moves in next door. Voluntarily wants to hang out with you. You’re golden!” He tries his best to comfort Eddie in his state of anxiety. “I don’t know. She’s beautiful, absolutely. Is she wanting to hang out, out of pity, though? Because some dumbass called me a freak in front of her? Is she-” Eddie is quickly cut off by Steve. “Yes. She is inviting you over for lunch, after she accepted your offer to show her around town, and laughed at your jokes, because she feels bad that some lonely, old woman called you a freak.” Steve deadpanned. “You really think so?” Eddie sadly sighed. Steve wanted to strangle him over the phone. “Eddie, no! I know your expertise with women isn’t as evolved as mine…but listen when I tell you, she’s into you. To some degree, anyway! Go over, have lunch with her. Be a little flirty. See where it goes. No harm in trying.” Steve smiled. Easy for the Stud of Hawkins to say. 

You hear a knock at your door, one you were now familiar with, pulling you out of your negative thoughts. Something you really had to work on. You’re a little quicker to answer the door this time, and see Eddie standing there with a few flowers he picked from The Wilson’s front yard on the other side of his trailer. They’ll never notice, he’d argue. “Oh wow, those are so pretty..” You say, your attention immediately drawn to the light blue flowers in his hand. He swallows hard. “Just like you.” He smiles softly, and hands them to you, and you graciously take them. He doesn’t miss the crimson blush that spreads over your cheeks to your ears. “Thank you, Eddie. Come in.” You bashfully say, stepping aside to let him in, and then shut your door. “I made us lunch. Um, I hope it’s to your liking.” He watches you walk into the kitchen, grab a small vase and add water to it, then place the flowers he picked out into it. “I’m sure I will love it. Let’s try that salad, huh?” He said and sat down at the table. 

It was close to 6 in the afternoon now, and Eddie was helping you clean up the dining table, his belly full of the delicious food you made. “Sooo…I could tell you liked the salad. Just admit it. Cucumbers are amazing.” You smirk, looking at him. “Whoa. Let’s not get crazy. You’re lucky that I am fond of you.” He throws the paper plates in the trash, with your approval of course. “But yes, it was really good, Y/N.” He smiles, looking back at you. “I wanted to ask you something now.” Eddie says, walking up to you as you stood by the kitchen entryway. You feel your heartbeat start to hammer in your chest at the close proximity. Noticing the faint freckles that paint his upper cheeks. He is so pretty. 

“My band is playing next weekend. At The Hideout. I would…really like for you to be there. We go on stage at 9..Not too late at night. And! You’ll get to meet my friends. Steven and Robin. Possibly Nancy. She doesn’t care for the loud music, so she doesn’t really go to these things.” He said, looking down at his feet, then up at you, trying to read your expression. “What if they don’t like me?” You say, your voice so small, you wanted to curl into yourself and disappear. His features soften, and he places his hand over yours, which was on the kitchen counter. 

“Believe me, they will love you.” He gives your hand a comforting caress, making you a blushing mess for what felt like the 50th time today.

 “I would love to meet them. And to see you perform.” You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm your anxiety. He could make out that you were a little hesitant in your response.    

 “Do I make you nervous?” He says suddenly, his eyes boring into yours. You freeze at his question, because it was as if his demeanor changed in a blink of an eye; from gentle to dominating. It was all in the way he looked at you with his dark eyes. 

“N-no. No, not really. I mean, I am just a shy person. I get nervous around new people. As you can tell.” You say. He takes your hand in his, holding it,  and flashes you a warm smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fit right in with us. I promise. They don’t bite.” He then leans in, close to your ear, whispering. “Though, I do a little.” Eddie says, and patted your hand, smirking. He learned that he really liked to make you squirm, and see you flustered. Sometimes he would get this burst of confidence that he had to take advantage of. It’s how he got himself more gigs at The Hideout. How he got himself a better paying position as a mechanic at J’s Auto Service. That was a milestone, because he was able to save up enough money to get Wayne his own trailer a few blocks away, in a better neighborhood. He deserved it. 

You open the door for Eddie, smiling as you watch him check the doors hinges, making sure the lock worked well, for your safety, of course. “Well, have a great first day at work. If you need anything, give me a call, ok?” He assures you that giving him a call at work would be the highlight of his day. “And you can call me whenever you want too. You know I’m all alone here.” You giggle, biting your lower lip. The playful flirting that occurred throughout the day really put you in good spirits, giving you a tiny bit of confidence. “I’ll definitely remember that. Sleep well, princess.” Eddie smirks, and walks down your porch, but stops to look over your car. “You’ll need new tires soon. You should bring it into the shop during the week. I’ll take a look at it and do an inspection.” He then waves, giving you no time to answer. 

It’s Friday afternoon, and you had 2 hours left of your shift. Counting the minutes until it was 5:00. You didn’t mind the job, it was practically the same as your office position back at home; filing papers, taking calls and sending out emails all day. While this position gave you a bit more responsibility and tasks, the environment was relaxed and the rest of the staff seemed to be chill. One girl, Veronica, would come over and talk to you on her way back in from her smoke breaks. You remembered Eddie smelled the same. He must smoke often enough.

“Are you doing anything fun this weekend? Not much to do in Hawkins.” Veronica popped her chewing gum, playing with a strand of her long hair as she leaned at the reception desk, looking at you.

“I am, actually! My neighbor asked me to go to The Hideout. To see his band play.”

“Eddie Munson? Ugh. The Hideout is so gross. He always takes all the girls there.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling as she nonchalantly picked her nails, admiring the design painted on them. She’d excitedly showed them to you earlier in the day. Your heart nearly sunk to your ass hearing her say that. Were you just another easy girl to him? No way would you give yourself up that easily to Eddie, or any man for that matter, and you didn’t feel that you gave off that kind of energy. You wondered if his whole shy persona was just a ploy to sleep with you, and call it a day. You were sure you liked Eddie. And you thought he genuinely liked you too. He had been so kind to you throughout the week, you reminded yourself. Everytime you came home, roughly 15 minutes after him, he’d walk over and greet you. Ask about your day. Smile and even hug you goodnight after you two would chat for a bit. It was like clockwork, at this point.

“I don’t think this is a date. Just..him being a friendly neighbor.” You shrug, trying to sound indifferent to the news she just broke to you.

“Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but he most likely thinks it's a date. And will probably end up fucking you in that smelly, tiny bathroom in the back of the bar. He does this every time. Will fuck anything in a mini skirt.” She shrugged. “Just use protection, doll.” She winked at you and walked back to her cubicle, sighing loudly as she sat down. You try to blink away the stinging in your eyes, focusing your attention on your keyboard. You absolutely did not need to cry your first week at work. It would be almost as embarrassing as you falling for your next door neighbor in such a short span of time. 

It’s 5pm and you’re driving home, hoping you arrive before Eddie does. Luck must be on your side because you make it by 5:27, and quickly get out of your car, nearly tripping up the steps to your front door as you rush to pull out your key from your large purse. This stupid, big ass bag. You unlock your door, and shut it behind you, locking it back up. Your breathing is heavy as you let your body fall in disappointment. The sun shines through your kitchen window, illuminating the flowers he had picked out for you. They were still lively and vibrant. You made sure to change the water every couple of days to keep as so. You’re sulking as you decide to go and take a hot shower, to clear your mind. Then you hear his van roll in, music blasting from it. 

Eddie looks at your driveway to see your car parked, in a rather chaotic way. You must’ve been excited that it was Friday. Maybe you were excited to see him and wanted to share how crazy of a day you had. He hoped that was the case, since he was ecstatic to see you. On his way to work earlier today, he stopped by the record store next to the J’s Shop, and saw Alice Cooper’s new album, Hey Stoopid. He recalls you mentioning that you’d been looking for the vinyl, wanting to add it to your collection. He gathered the last few bills he had on him, and bought it for you. He figured he’d make some extra cash anyway at The Hideout before the show, selling to the usuals.

He knocks at your door, practically beaming. He’s so excited to gift you this album, knowing it would make you happy. That’s all he wants and cares about. When you don’t answer after his 4th knock, he tries a few more times. “Hm..” He ponders, and leans to the left, trying to peek into your living room window, but the curtain blocks anyone from seeing inside. “Hey, Y/N?” He calls out. He assumes you're in the bathroom when you don't answer, and decides to possibly try again later. He wouldn’t want to disturb your “you time” in there. You hear him jog back to his trailer, his chain wallet giving him away. You felt bad, but then remember what Veronica said to you earlier in the day. That was why you were avoiding him in the first place. Though, it would be impossible to do this everyday. Well, for now, you're just going to try your best to hide from him. That means, you’ll have to stand him up at The Hideout. You turn on the shower after stripping off your work clothes and stood there for what felt like hours, playing every scenario in your mind. 

Eddie is tapping his foot impatiently on his carpeted floor, his much more worn out than yours. It's close to 8:30p and you still haven't come over. And he's contemplating whether to go over to your house or not. Your lights are not on. He guesses you had a really bad day at work, and instead of bugging you, he leaves you to rest. The album can wait for tomorrow morning.

It’s bright and early, you can hear the birds chirping from your bedroom window. You rub the sleep from your eyes and groan, sitting up on your bed, looking over to look at the time. The clock read 09:47a. You better get up and make most of your Saturday as you do not plan on leaving your 4 walls tomorrow. You stretch as you stand up, and walk over to your fridge, and then jump at the loud knock. “Y/N!” a familiar voice calls out. Fuck. Ok, you need to at least confront him of his true intentions. Whether you were just another girl to him, and nothing more. You close up your robe a little as you drag your feet, letting out a shaky breath as you open the door. 

“Oh, thank god!” He breathes in relief. “ I was worried about you.” He said.

“Right..well. I’m ok. Just trying to rest up.” You said. He notices your tone is a bit more cold.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to check up on you. I knocked yesterday, but didn’t see you. Did you have a bad day at work?” He said, frowning now. 

“You can say that-”

“Then I have something that will cheer you up! Close your eyes.” He grinned, practically jumping in excitement. You raise your brow, and hesitantly shut your eyes, then feel his warm hands grab yours, pulling them out in front of you. You feel a heavy-ish item now land on your hands and you immediately open your eyes. “Oh shit..” You hold the album, looking at it. It was a special edition one.

“Eddie..how’d you find this?” You say quietly, a smile growing on your face.

“Saw it at the record store. Had to get it for you.” He couldn’t be any prouder. He got you out of whatever slump you were feeling.

“Oh Eddie..I know this had to be expensive. Let me pay you back.” 

He shook those curls you were so crazy about. “Nope. I only request your presence tonight, sweetheart. Steve and Robin are dying to meet you.” He says, crossing his arms. Your gaze travels down to them, admiring the tattoos and oh. He’s caught you staring, that smirk on his face confirms that. “I-I will be there.” You nod, going against everything you said to yourself the night before. “Great! I have some errands to run, but I will see you tonight, darling.” He bows like you are his Queen, and you might as well be at this point. You giggle, and watch him go to this van, wave at you and drive off. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

You’re standing in line at The Hideout, waiting to be let in. You assumed that you had to wait like everyone else. There weren't that many people, about 50 all together but judging by the size of the bar, it would be a full house. You dress in a low-cut top, purposely choosing one that showed a decent amount of cleavage. A cardigan rests over your arm, and you opted for black leggings, the ones that made your ass look the best. If Eddie really did intend for this to be a date, you might as well look the best you could, with what you currently had in your closet. You hear your name being called out, and you see Eddie jog over to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless DIO shirt, and leather pants, his combat boots all untied. He looks so good. You’re practically drooling.

“What are you doing here?” He incredulously asks.

“I..you invited me.” You play with your fingers, nails digging into your skin. 

“Babe, I meant in line.” He reaches out, grabbing your hand and pulls you out of the line, where all eyes then fall on you and him. You noticed a few girls eye Eddie, too. Almost like a prey. “You get backstage access, doll.” He whispers as he leanes into you, and smirks. “You’re VIP.” He holds your hand, and takes you to the back of the bar, opening the door that lead you inside. “After you.” He says, eyes falling to your ass. It looked so plump in those pants, so biteable.  

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He says, admiring the subtle make up you had on. It wasn’t much, just some mascara and eyeliner. A little foundation to hide any blemishes and imperfections. “I like this top.” He runs his fingers over the fabric near your collarbone. Your cheeks heat up, as you send him a smile, looking down all shyly. 

“Eddie!” A man calls out, and you look to your left. You assume that is Steve, and a girl walking alongside with him. Robin? 

“Hey, man. Glad you could make it. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N…this is Steve and Robin. And as I assumed, Nancy did not make it today.”

“Or ever. You know this isn’t her scene. She’s out with Jonathan, anyway.” Steve shrugged and turned his attention towards you. “Nice to meet you. Eddie has talked non stop about you.” He smirks over at Eddie who is internally cussing him out. “Let’s go get some good seats.” Robin smiles at you, and grabs your arm, locking it with hers as she pulls you to the stage floor. 

“Ughhh Steve, why’d you say that? Now she’s going to think I’m obsessed.” Eddie rubs his face, giving him a look.

“Are you not?” Steve smirks, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. Eddie shook his head and bit his nails, nervously. “I like her, alot.” He admitted to Steve, eyes following you around as Robin decided which area was the best to stand at. He liked how nervous you were around him. You were the sweetest girl he’d ever known. On the opposite end, he also felt like a creep though. All the perverse thoughts he had about you. They’d come to him when he was in bed late at night, a rhythmic movement of his hand over his aching cock as he'd imagine his tongue deep in your wet, throbbing pussy, satisfying his hunger. 

“I gotta get onstage, and set up.” He says to Steve, wanting to avoid any more of Steve’s banter. He nods, then meets up with you and Robin on the stage floor. Your gaze follows Eddie onstage, where he and the rest of the band finish setting up. He winks at you, and tunes his guitar. Most of all the equipment is there, just had to be connected and set up in the proper place.

“You excited to see the show? They’re actually really good! It’s a shame they haven’t been signed by a record label yet.” Robin says. You are caged in, front row, between both Robin and Steve. “Yeah, I’m excited. I just..don’t want to get my hopes up. Feelings hurt and all.” You say softly, seeing all the people from outside being let in.

“What do you mean? Their songs are not really offensive.” Robin says.

“Well, unless you’re someone with sensitive hearing. They’re loud.” Steve snorts.

“No, I mean. I don’t want Eddie to see me as..like the other girls that he brings here?” You say, a little unsure if you are going to get your point across. Their his friends, obviously they’re going to take his side. 

Steve snorts again. “What girls?” 

“All..the girls..?” You say, feeling a bit foolish at that moment. “This chick I work with knows Eddie. Says he brings all his dates here. And uhm, has his way with them. I'm not-it's not that I'm not attracted to him. He's super handsome, but I don't want it to be that type of date. I like him and don’t want it to be a one night stand type of date..” You nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. 

Steve and Robin both start to laugh, a good belly laugh, which makes Eddie look at you three. What are they telling you about him?

“Y/N. He's NOT like that. At all. I don't know who that chick is, but Eddie is lucky if he's able to get a girl to look his way anymore.” Robin said. 

“I mean, he's had girlfriends and dates, sure. But to say he brings all the girls here like he's some ladies man, is comical.” Steve said.  “But don't tell him we said that.” He smirks. “Eddie is a great guy, Y/N. And I'm not just saying that because he's my best friend.” Steve looked up at him. “Shows starting.” He says to you, nudging your shoulder with his as the lights dim, and a loud guitar note plays. The stage area is packed with all the people from outside, and they cheer.  The band seems to have a large following, people singing along to the songs. A lot of older, trucker looking guys and scattered were lots of girls too, older and younger, like yourself. In the middle of the setlist, you see Eddie grab the mic, placing his foot on the amp as he addresses the crowd, thanking them for coming out and supporting the band. He had a little surprise for you, and hoped you listened to Alice Cooper’s previous album, Trash, because he was going to cover one of the songs on there. He figured he’d take the risk and sing Spark in the Dark.  The lyrics were quite suggestive, and maybe tonight, he’d be brave enough to make a first move. 

You immediately recognized the guitar riff to the song, a big smile forming on your face, as you were by now more relaxed and enjoying the show, just like Robin and Steve suggested.

“Ah, welcome to the party.

It’s only me and you

Tell the world to go away, babe

And I’ll tell you what to do

Come over here and kiss me

I wanna pull your hair

Turn out the lights and hold me

I wanna touch you everywhere”

You sing along, all while your face is burning from the blush that spread over your cheeks, and thankful the stage lights are not pointed directly at you. You were certain you’d combust. You also notice a familiar sensation, one that was directly between your thighs. One that needed to be taken care of. Preferably by the front man looking down at you.

“We don’t need nobody, baby

We don’t need champagne

I’ll take you to the deepest

Darkest, hottest lover’s lane

For a little spark in the dark

Just a little spark in the dark.”

You’re staring at each other as he sings the song. You’re singing along, and he’s so good up there. Your favorite rockstar. You notice his hips move a little with every enunciation during the chorus. He grabs the mic stand, placing the mic on it as the guitar rests over his hips, hiding the semi he’s rocking right now thanks to the song’s lyrics and the perfect view he has of your cleavage. 

“I’ll come ‘round midnight

We’ll be crawling on the floor

Burnin’ with a fever

And yellin’ out for more

But don’t you write in your diary, baby

Don’t blab it on the phone

‘Cause if your dad and mom find out, 

They’ll skin me to the bone.

We don’t need instructions, baby

Don’t you be afraid

It takes a little friction, uh-uh

That’s how our love is made 

For a little spark in the dark.”

You want to melt into a puddle once the song is finished, noticing the sweat that glistens his skin, still sporting that sleeveless tank top. He sings a few more covers, and once the show is over, he bows to everyone, then directly tosses you a guitar pick. You’re giddy, as you’re bouncing on your tippy toes, holding it between your fingers.

“Look at the fangirl, now.” Robin smirks, clapping as the band gets off stage. “We get backstage privileges, being long time friends of the band and all.” She laughs, walking to the back of the bar, noticing the crowd had spread out between leaving for the night, and others to sit at the bar. You follow Robin and Steve, until you reach a room that almost looked like a utility room with all the amps.”Hey!” Eddie says, wiping the sweat off with a small towel. He looks directly at you, as if Robin and Steve aren’t even in the room. “That was amazing! And…the cover was really good, too.” You blush and try not to be too obvious as your eyes scan his body. His shirt is all damp from his sweat, shirt stuck to his body. You could make out his toned stomach. 

“I’d give you a thank you hug, but I smell. And I’m all sweaty.” He chuckles, noticing you shifting a little, your thighs pressing together. He gives you a little knowing smirk, and pulls out a cigarette, but Robin is quick to snatch it.

“No smoking. Especially not around your date.” Robin speaks out.

“You’re right. Bad habit, and manners. Sorry. sweetheart.” He cheekily smiles and puts away the pack of cigarettes.

“We gotta get going, but we’ll see you later, Eds. Come on Steve. Remember…we had that thing we had to do..” Robin says, pulling him on his arm. “OH right! That thing. Yes. Alright, you two have a good and eventful night. Nice meeting you, Y/N! We look forward to seeing you again real soon!!” Steve says as both him and Robin go running out. You let out a soft laugh then look over at Eddie, who is looking at you, not once did his sight move away from you.

“Can we..talk?” You say to him. 

Oh fuck, did he do something wrong? Was it the way he was looking at you? Shit. 

“Of course. We can step outside. It’s hot as fuck in here.” He says and you both walk out into the back of the bar, the loud slam of the door shutting making you jump. Eddie is nervous now. He’s sure you’re about to break the news to him that you don’t want anything to do with him. Maybe you found out of his late night activities, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He was sure you partake in those kinds of solo activities. Maybe you believed he was truly a devil worshipper. How can he convince you otherwise?

“I uhm, almost didn’t come tonight.” You start. 

This makes his chest feel heavy. He’d done something, surely. 

“How come?” His voice is small.

“I was stupid. I believed something someone at my job said about you.” Your stare is focused on the littered and dirty floor, not wanting to meet his eyes. You felt ashamed.

“What’d they say about me?” 

“I-I don’t-”

“What’d they say about me, Y/N? I assure you..I’ve heard it all. I’m used to it at this point in my life.” He says, his tone was a bit more irate and cold than what you were used to him being with you. Your eyes took no time in watering, and now Eddie was ready to throw himself off a cliff for making you feel this way.    He really fucked this up already, as he always does. Good job, Munson.

“She said that…you basically slept around. That you take them here on dates, and..and take them to that nasty bathroom for a quick fuck. Eddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have believed something like that. I just, I got scared to have my feelings and emotions played with. I didn’t want to be just another girl added to your roster.” You try to keep your composure as you talk to him, your eyes are for sure still watery, but by some miracle, you didn’t stutter. “If I’m being honest, I don’t have much experience with this. Like, yeah. I’ve done a few dates and all, but I've never had a boyfriend or had anyone touch me, or-”

“Sweetheart, it's ok.” Eddie takes a step forward and grabs both your shaky hands, holding them in his, practically engulfing them. “Look at me.” His voice is low, and he places a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “I promise you, I am not that type of person. People will say a million things about me, and I can guarantee that most of them are just rumors. I certainly do not sleep around. I can't remember the last time I had a legitimate date with someone, let alone fuck someone.” He risked making himself look a loser just to make you feel better. His hand goes up to your cheek, and caresses it, letting out a chuckle. “Baby, there's no one I desire more than you…and I want to kiss you so bad.” He whispers, taking another step forward, his scent invading you. “Give me a chance to prove to you..I'm not like whatever these stupid fucks said about me.” His lips are impossibly close to yours, making your breath hitch at the close proximity. “Kiss me.” His voice is raspy. You embrace each other, your lips pressing together as the kiss deepens slowly. It was the first time you've experienced a true, deep kiss. You were sure he could tell. You opened your mouth, letting his hot tongue in to glide along yours and the quiet whine you let out makes him want to take you right there and then. You were inexperienced, yes, but quickly learned to breathe through your nose and move your mouth with his. Eddie's hand rested on your hips, and the other was around the nape of your neck, pulling you against him even closer, wanting to hear those  whines again. 

“Alright, get a room, you two.” Gareth groaned, hauling the large amp into the van that was a few feet away from you both. You blush heavily as you both simultaneously pull away from each other. “We will continue this at your place? I got to finish helping the guys..” Eddie breathed heavy, a similar rosy shade painted over his cheeks. 

“Yes, I'll leave my door unlocked. You can just come in..” 

“Hm, sweetheart. I don't think that's a good idea. What if the big, bad wolf gets in? And wants to eat yah?” Eddie smirks. 

“I certainly count on it.”

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬

18+ MINORS DNI

or: how natasha proposed

part of the short n’ sweet universe

a/n: finally got this done! i’ve been working on this way too long lmao 😭 but here it is

also i hate writing/reading proposal speeches. can’t stand them because i never seem to get them right. tried my best anyway 🫡

summary: natasha wanting to propose + being an idiot about it

warnings: smut (brief, not too detailed)

word count: 11.8k

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Not too long ago, you used to study under the best conditions possible. You'd shut every window, every door. You'd light aroma candles and clean your desk to avoid distractions. Your phone? On silent and hidden. With earplugs in to block even the slightest noise, you'd sit down and get started. If possible, you'd go to the library. At night, even, when it's quiet and empty so nothing can disturb you.

That's changed. You'd love to laugh at your past self for ever thinking that those conditions were necessary to study, but you can't. Unfortunately, your past self was right.

Your apartment isn't small, but it's not big, either. It's the perfect size for a family of three — snug, comfy, but with enough space to store the baby bathtub and stroller. You love that you can see the entire living room and kitchen from your desk, but you don't love that you can hear every single noise.

Niko's crying. He's colicky and teething and cranky. Natasha's on a rubber ball, bouncing him, her voice slowly turning more and more panicked. You've tried everything; nursing, chilled teething rings, a warm bath. But the poor little guy's uncomfortable, and he's letting everyone know.

This has been going on for days now. To make matters worse, he doesn't even sleep through the night. Instead, he wakes up twice (if you're lucky) and screeches until you give him attention. You've been hanging on by a thread. All-nighters, coffee, trail mix. A baby clinging to you, drooling and unhappy, and a midterm exam in molecular biology.

You stare at the laptop in front of you. Way too many slides for a midterm, way too detailed and complicated as well. You pick up your pen to take another note, but a particularly loud wail from Niko startles you.

"Sorry", Natasha says when you turn around. She looks sheepish, even if this isn't her fault. You sigh. "Want me to leave the apartment?"

A sweet offer, but you're not sure you want your girlfriend and your infant son to go outside when it's dark. It's a somewhat safe area, but there's no need to take high risk, low reward chances.

"No", you mumble, turning towards your laptop again. Niko lets out another cry. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine", she says, rubbing his back. He squirms against her and starts gnawing on her shoulder. "Just dramatic."

Apparently, the usage of the word 'dramatic' offends Niko immensely. He pulls back, then launches himself at her shoulder and bites like a baby shark. The noise she makes is anything but dignified, and you snort into your coffee cup.

Natasha gets up, still holding Niko. He starts fussing and thrashing in her arms. She leaves the room, quietly, and you hear a door fall shut. The door to his nursery. She's attempting the impossible, which is to get him to calm down.

You try focusing on your studies again. Protein metabolism — ribozymes, membranes, amino acids. Part of you almost regrets letting Natasha leave with Niko. You'd rather comfort a whining baby than read another word that ends in -ases.

You don't want to fail, though, so you keep researching and reading and summarizing. Things seem to be going well, at that point. It's 9pm, the crying has quieted down, and your brain is soaking up knowledge like a sponge. Silence really does seem to work wonders for your ability to concentrate and retain information.

About an hour later, the door opens quietly. Natasha steps out of the nursery, baby monitor in hand, and rubs her face. She looks beat — she didn't even manage to change out of her jersey after coming home, as you immediately shoved a fussing Niko into her arms. Her hair is in a low bun, which is now clinging on for dear life, and her eyes are half-lidded.

Then, she spots you. You're sprawled out on the couch now, an open textbook next to you and some flashcards in your hands. The exhaustion is gone instantly.

You don't miss the way she perks up and silently, you groan. For some reason, she's able to be more distracting than the baby. Whether it's intentional or not is a question you haven't been able to answer yet, but there have been dozens of instances of her being anything but helpful.

It usually starts as something innocent. Sitting down next to you, touching your thigh. Pulling you into her lap after a moment. A mumbled 'missed you' against your neck. At some point, fingers begin to wander. They slip into waistbands and nudge bras aside.

You know why. Between basketball practice, exams, and the chaos that comes with being new parents, you rarely manage to find time for just the two of you. When it does happen, she tries to make the most of it. You do, too, but you're less keen on admitting that.

You end up naked each time. You're not sure if that's something to be proud of, but Natasha may as well be one of those birds that puff up with pride.

When she plops down next to you on the couch, you immediately know that she's about to try again. Biology exam be damned — the last time you had a few minutes without Niko was a week ago, back at Clint's place. Everyone else had been playing a video game. They were yelling, laughing, so they were distracted enough to not notice the little sighs coming from behind them.

Her arm wraps around your shoulders. Her lips press against your cheek, then your jaw. Her free hand moves under your shirt to cup your stomach. You shift, stubbornly staring at a flashcard.

"How's biology going?", she mumbles, rubbing your arm.

"Fine", you reply, still not looking at her. She leans in and starts kissing your neck. Soft lips move over delicate skin, her tongue pokes out to lick a hot stripe over your pulse point. "Natasha."

"Yes, baby?"

You exhale, the frustration evident. Your midterm exam is in two days. Fucking on the couch like dogs in heat certainly isn't a study method that'll help you pass.

"Unless you're about to quiz me on molecular biology, you better keep your hands to yourself."

Natasha isn't too impressed. She hums, pretending to be deep in thought about this, then cups your breast and brushes her thumb over your nipple. Drops of milk spill, but it doesn't faze her. It's been more than half a year, she's aware that you're breastfeeding.

"We haven't had a minute to ourselves in a week", she murmurs. She massages your boob, and a wet patch forms on your shirt. "The damn kid's always interrupting."

"He's a baby", you say, grabbing her arm. "And I'm about to fail my midterm."

Natasha frowns and looks at you. Head tilted, eyebrows messy, eyes clear and intense. Maybe studying really isn't worth the effort, or at least that's what your hormones are trying to convince you of. She's still in her jersey, too, and she has that post game-smell. Sweaty and full of pheromones.

"You think you'll fail?"

"I've barely studied", you say, deadpan. "This is molecular biology. Understanding it isn't enough, I need to know it by heart."

"Right", she mumbles. She presses a kiss to your shoulder. "So you'll fail. Big deal?"

You huff and almost shove her off you, but she just grins. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You'll fail. So what?" She kisses your cheek, then pecks your lips. "You know what?"

You glare at her. She's treating this like a joke, and you're not having it. Natasha waits for you to say something, but you're getting more pissed off by the second, so she laughs quietly and tugs you into her lap.

"If you fail, I'm proposing. Who needs a degree? No wife of mine should have to work a single day in her life, anyway."

Your heart stutters in your chest, but it's hard to take her seriously. To you, it seems like this is one of her usual dumb jokes. But you never would've thought she'd joke about this. She may call you her wife in front of friends and teammates (despite you telling her to cut it out), but you didn't think marriage would be a laughing matter to her.

"Really romantic", you manage to say. "Truly outdoing yourself, Romanoff."

"Mark my words", she says. She tugs at the hem of your shirt, smirking. "If you fail, I'm proposing to you. Now go study unless you want to see me on one knee."

"I'd pay to see that", you mumble. You reach for your textbook and open it.

For exactly ten minutes, you're able to study. You recall information, quiz yourself, check your notes.

You're still in Natasha's lap, though. She still feels the rounded curve of your ass pressing against her, still feels your warmth and smells your scent. Perfume and something sweet and milky. She doesn't want to distract you — a lie — but she can't exactly control it.

You feel her get hard, pressing against you through the fabric of her shorts. You swore you'd study this time, that you'd keep your clothes on. But her hands grip your waist, her lips press against your nape, and you're actually alone for once. Before you know what you're doing, you're on your back and being pounded into the couch.

. . .

Monday morning, you make your way to campus looking like you're about to go to war.

Niko is strapped to Natasha's chest, feet kicking and smiles less gummy. His tooth came in exactly five hours before the exam, which Natasha deemed hilarious. He kept up the sobbing and crying and fevering long enough to keep you from studying, but managed to get the annoying little molar out as soon as it got too late for you to catch up.

He's the only one who's in a good mood, though. Teething aside, he's still suffering from being a little colicky, so he made sure you stay awake by screaming until his face turned red. It took a while, but he's better now.

"Lucky duck", Natasha mutters. She's surviving off energy drinks at this point. "You can nap all day long. I have a seminar later. Fucking Harrison Harris. I swear, whoever named that guy set him up for bullying."

You hum absently. You're staring at a flashcard, with dark circles under your eyes and a coffee cup in your hand. Your hair isn't even washed — you spent the few hours of silence Niko granted you trying to inhale every bit of knowledge you can. A bad idea, as you now feel like you're about to throw up biology facts.

Natasha glances at her phone. "Ten minutes", she informs you. "Want me to go with you? Help you find your seat?"

"I'm good", you mumble, still staring at a flashcard. Niko squeals, his chubby little hand suddenly grabbing and fisting it. "Oh, honey. I promise, that's less fun than it looks."

"He likes the drawing", Natasha says, leaning in. "Is that a peptide bond?"

"Yeah." You sigh and let go of the flashcard. Niko takes that as permission to put it in his mouth and chew on it. You get up and grab your tote bag. "Where are you two going?"

"Oh", she says, bouncing him and trying to seem casual, "we're meeting Wanda and Daisy for some coffee. They wanted to see Niko."

"Alright." You lean in and kiss the top of your son's head. "Bye, baby."

"I assume you're talking to me?", Natasha jokes.

"Both of you."

Smiling, she gets up to pull you closer. Her lips press against yours, her hands hold your waist. Unimpressed, Niko slaps the damp flashcard against your face, but Natasha quickly blocks him.

You pull away and cup her face. "He's rude."

"Got it from me", she agrees. She pecks your lips. "Go, go. Or you'll be late."

You peek into the study hall where the exam will take place. Sure enough, almost all seats are taken. The hallway has gotten empty has well. You nod and turn around, opting for a quick wave before stepping into the room.

Natasha watches for another second, then Niko tips his head back to look at her. He smiles, his single tooth making him look a little like baby Patrick Star, and she leans in to kiss his forehead.

"Come on, bud", she says, walking down the hallway. "Let's see what Wanda and Daisy know about proposals."

The four (three and a half?) of them end up in the little café right next to campus. Daisy secures a corner spot, Wanda grabs the highchair, and Natasha orders the drinks. Black coffee, iced latte, and a hot chocolate for the girl who claims caffeine makes her anxiety worse.

They're not aware of why they got invited here. Usually, they don't hang out with only Natasha; you're always there, as well. This time, she was the one to text them. She also asked them to not tell you, which — surprise — even Daisy succeeded at.

Niko spent the first five minutes in the highchair which Natasha cleaned with Lysol and baby wipes. It took one unhappy grunt for Wanda to coo and pick him up, though, so he's now in her lap and keeping her necklace in a firm grasp.

"So", Daisy says, stealing some of the whipped cream on Wanda's hot chocolate, "why are we here?"

Natasha side-eyes Wanda, who's offering Niko a cookie to suck on. "Oh, I...I'm sorry, can you take that away from him? Just 'cause he got his first tooth doesn't mean he needs a first cavity as well."

"He likes it", Wanda says, removing the cookie from his hand. He lets out a protesting screech, and she kisses his reddish baby curls.

"It's sugar", Daisy says. "Of course he likes it. Romanoff, answer my question. Did you screw up again?"

"What?" She frowns. "No. No, I didn't. What kind of question is that?"

Both of them give her a pointed look à la 'remember Spring Break?', and she shuts up. She's screwed up before. To be fair, it's been a while since Spring Break happened — almost three years, if she's not mistaken — but she really hurt you. She didn't mean to, but she did, anyway.

"Fine", she relents. "I'm an idiot. Not the point, though."

A waitress walks past them and smiles, straight at Natasha. She's pretty, with her blue eyes and honeyed hair, and both Daisy and Wanda realize what she's doing. Subtly flirting with Natasha. Testing the waters. The basketball team's captain is somewhat of a little celebrity around here, after all.

Everyone is aware that she's taken. You're basically famous around here, especially since you're always walking around with a baby in your arms. Some women don't care about that, apparently.

They have different strategies, but the same goal. Wanda clears her throat and Daisy kicks Natasha's shin. She immediately sits up straight.

"Are you fucking kidding-"

"Eyes on us, idiot", Daisy cuts her off. "Why are we here?"

"Right", she mumbles. "I'll just say it, so, uh...how do I propose?"

First, there's silence. Then, Daisy bursts out laughing, so much so that poor Niko actually flinches. Wanda cradles him to her chest, but she doesn't manage to tell Daisy to stop — she's hung up on the fact that Natasha Romanoff is talking about proposing.

She doesn't want to say it out loud. Even if it's the truth, it'd be rude. But everyone knows that Natasha once claimed she'd never commit. Not fully. Campus is filled with girls who got their hearts broken by her. She's blocked double the amount of numbers she has saved as contacts.

Natasha shoots Daisy an irritated look. "Alright", she mutters, sinking into her seat and picking at the cookie on her saucer, "no need to laugh."

"I'm sorry", she wheezes. "You. You? You want to propose?"

"You're not being nice", Wanda tells her. She gives Natasha an apologetic look. "But I get her point. You're proposing?"

"I told Y/N I would if she fails her midterm", she explains, still disgruntled. "I'm serious about this. I'll do it. No matter if she fails, really."

"That's sweet", Daisy mumbles. "Basing a lifelong commitment on an academic failure."

Niko babbles and reaches out to Natasha. She scoops him out of Wanda's lap and immediately rummages through her diaper bag to find the bottle of milk she packed. In the meantime, he manages to grab the cookie she didn't eat and starts gnawing on it like he's been starving for the past week.

"Please", Natasha says. She steals the cookie back and replaces it with the baby bottle. Having forgotten about the sweet treat, Niko latches on. "That's not what it is at all. Look, guys. I'm serious about this. And about her. So either help me or I'm leaving."

"You're not leaving", Wanda says. She's digging through her backpack already, laying out notebooks and pencils on the table. "What did you have in mind?"

Natasha shrugs. She's been thinking about this for days. Actually, she's been racking her brains. Every second of her days are spent trying to find a good way to go about this. Not once in her life did she consider downloading Pinterest, but now, the red circular icon stands out on her home screen.

"Not sure", she says vaguely. "Maybe go on a date, hide the ring in a-"

"No", both of them interject.

"But you didn't-"

"No."

"Trust us", Wanda adds. "What else?"

Natasha shrugs and glances at Niko. He's still suckling, his feet kicking happily under the table. "Maybe a onesie that says 'marry me'?"

"God", Daisy groans. "That's, like, a surefire way to get dumped."

"Oh come on!"

"It's true", Wanda says. She flinches when Daisy suddenly starts hitting her arm like there's a mosquito on it. "What??"

"Jumbotron, jumbotron!"

This time, it's Natasha's turn to intervene. If there's one thing you'd like less than the onesie-idea, it's to be proposed to at one of her basketball games. A proposal in a gym full of sweaty athletes, fellow students and professors sounds like a nightmare.

"Absolutely not", she says firmly. Niko hiccups and spits up, simultaneously unlatching from the bottle. She quickly wipes his mouth. "No jumbotron, no basketball games."

"Boring", Daisy mumbles.

"I have to agree with Natasha", Wanda says. She taps the table and nods. "Did you write anything down? Maybe locations?"

Natasha shakes her head and fishes her phone out of her shorts. She swipes past the lock screen, which is still a half-naked picture of you, and opens one of the apps. She taps on the board she created and hands the phone to Wanda and her finicky eyes.

Daisy leans over her shoulder to peek at it. They're both quiet for a while, scrolling and silently judging. By the time they look up, Natasha's attention has long wavered. She's focused on Niko, who's babbling and playing with her hand.

"You'll need help", Daisy says. Natasha looks up. "I mean, a picnic?"

She frowns. In her mind, it was cute. Private and quiet, no prying eyes. Maybe on a beach, or in some park. Though, there aren't many pretty beaches nearby. And traveling isn't in the cards for you, especially while you're in college and have a baby.

"What's wrong with a picnic?"

"Bugs", Daisy quickly says. "Sand. Birds. Where do you put the baby? I know you guys don't like to leave him with anybody else."

Natasha shrugs. Niko, still in her arms, is now dozing off. The milk managed to make him sleepy.

"I thought I propose with him there."

"No", Daisy says. She frowns and taps a pen against her lips. "Hey, where'd you guys have your first kiss?"

Natasha pauses, one hand gently holding Niko's pacifier. She remembers it, of course, but sometimes, she wishes she didn't. The circumstances weren't romantic. It wasn't like in the movies. It was in a sweaty basement, filled with the stench of alcohol and weed. Everyone was on the floor, spinning a bottle. You kissed her because it landed on her, not because the moment seemed right.

She'd go back and do it differently, if she could. But it's too late for that.

"How's a party at Pietro's sound?"

"My hopes were too high", Daisy says, subtly rolling her eyes. "Your first time, you know..."

Natasha shakes her head. "Nope. Also at the party."

"Saying 'I love you'?"

Her cheeks flush, and her face goes hot. Another moment she wishes she could change. The night of the stabbed basketball, and the rainy hoodie, and the desperate sex in your dorm room. The fighting, the crying. It was all the result of what happened in Miami.

"No", she just says. No need for details, as she feels like they still haven't forgiven her for what she did at Spring Break. "It was in her dorm. We moved out of there, so..."

"Right, right." Daisy sighs and sinks into the red pleather of the booth's seat. "God, you two are complicated."

"You try proposing", Natasha mutters. She gently shifts Niko until she's able to put him back into the carrier. He stirs, but somehow doesn't wake up. "It's harder than it seems."

"Speaking of proposing..."

"No", Daisy says, shooting a glare at Wanda. Natasha frowns at them, and Daisy flips her off. "Don't."

"Are you-"

"Proposal", Wanda quickly says. "Your proposal. What does Y/N like?"

She gives them another skeptical look. They've been acting odd around each other for months now, but neither of them has had the guts to address it yet. She's not sure what exactly is going on, but truthfully, she's too tired to care.

She doesn't press it. Instead, she tries remembering everything you ever expressed fondness for.

"She likes me", she then says, grinning and rubbing Niko's back. All she gets are blank stares, though. "And him, of course."

"You could try taking this seriously", Daisy says, raising her eyebrows. "Seriously, what does she like?"

Natasha sighs and leans back in her seat. Her eyes drift down to Niko, who's sleeping and drooling all over her hoodie. She brushes her fingers over his red curls and tries to think, which is proven difficult due to her running on two and a half hours of sleep.

"Okay", she says slowly. "She likes black coffee. She likes lipstick, I think she has over a dozen of them. Uhm, I have a playlist full of her favorite songs, maybe we can use that. She doesn't like the dark, but she loves it when there are tiny lights everywhere. You know, fairy lights."

Wanda nods and writes everything down. "Fairy lights, there we go. What else?"

"She likes to dance", Natasha admits.

She's been dragged into a slow dance multiple times by you, and she always grumbles and protests. Getting her to actually try is harder than getting Niko to sleep during his sleep regression phase, but she never says no. Even if she's being an idiot.

"Dancing?" Daisy shoots Wanda a doubtful look when she writes that down as well. "How? When?"

"I don't know, hush. Keep going."

"Food", Natasha adds. Niko grunts in his sleep, one foot twitching, and she takes it into her hand. "Like, chocolate-covered anything. And she likes when I dress up a little, so..."

"Suit", Daisy whispers. She earns a glare. "What? You said it first."

"Suit it is", Wanda hums.

"I don't want a suit", Natasha interjects. Shes worn a suit twice so far — to your cousin's wedding, and at your grandfather's 90th birthday. She felt like an idiot playing dress up both times. "It's better if I wear something that's...natural, you know."

Wanda gives her a deadpan look, then adds 'suit' to her list, anyway. If you'll appreciate it, then she's doing it. No doubt.

They spend a total of two hours in the café. By the time they're done, Niko is awake and screaming for another meal. The bottle of pumped milk Natasha brought is empty, so she gets up and silently calculates when your exam should be done.

"I'll send you a text", Wanda says, packing up her stuff. "With the list and everything. Thursday, at my place? We still need to go over the details."

"And the ring", Daisy adds. She touches Wanda's wrist before wrapping her fingers around it, then she leads her outside. Sunlight blinds both Natasha and Niko as she follows them out the door.

"Right", Natasha mumbles, stressing. Niko lets out an unhappy scream. "Okay, okay, I'm getting you food. By the way, can you guys keep your mouths shut around Y/N? I know I told her, but..."

"Yeah", Wanda says, stopping. She reaches into her backpack and fishes out some applesauce for Niko. "No worries."

Natasha hesitates, then grabs the applesauce pouch. You're not the biggest fan of giving Niko sugary food, even if it's just applesauce, but she'd rather he stops crying. She unscrews it and helps him eat some.

"Aunt Wanda to the rescue", she says, smiling kindly.

"Preach", Natasha mumbles. She wipes his chin with her thumb and looks up. "Anyways. Thursday, 10am. Y/N is at a lecture. She'll probably try to skip but I'll make her go."

"All you have to do now is not spoil the surprise", Daisy reminds her. "Don't be an idiot."

Not spoil the surprise — easy enough, Natasha thinks, absently trying to keep Niko from eating her thumb instead. He squeals and grasps at her hand like it's the most precious thing his seven month old little brain has seen.

Little does she know that a), she will be an idiot, and b), not spoiling a surprise is hard when you're this much of a goner for someone.

. . .

Despite your protests and complaints, Natasha manages to make you go to your lecture. It takes a lot of convincing, energy and sweat, but she succeeds. You're not happy about it — you'd rather stay home with Niko, who's somehow teething again (apparently, none of you are catching a break anytime soon), but she finds enough arguments to convince you to go.

You give her a glare. She's in the doorway, dressed in a hoodie and the baby perched on her hip, helping him chew on a frozen piece of cucumber. Unlike you, she doesn't have to get ready for anything. She's spending the day with Niko, at the park, while you have to sit through an entire lecture. That's what she told you, at least.

"What?", she asks, sheepish.

"It's not fair", you say, turning back around and grabbing your makeup bag with a little more force than necessary. "You get to stay here and I have to listen to Gibson talk about statistics for almost two hours."

"It's important", she says, shifting Niko a bit. He tends to suddenly throw himself backwards — an annoying little habit he's developed over the past couple weeks. "You know, it's the last one before the midterm."

"I don't care", you say. You open a lipstick and apply some. "He sends us a video of the lecture, anyway."

Natasha, being who she is, automatically steps closer. You grab her hand and blot your lips with the side of her thumb. It's a routine by now, one neither of you has to acknowledge anymore.

"It's better if you're there in person", she says. Niko tries grabbing your hair, but she stops him. "So you can ask questions."

You turn around and stare at her. "You know I never ask questions."

Of course, you're right. You don't ask questions, and she knows it. She's accompanied you to lectures a bunch of times, mostly when you were pregnant or right after you gave birth to Niko. But she forgot about that little detail.

"Oh", she says dumbly. "Well, I..."

"Told you", you say, turning around again. You adjust your necklace and get up. Natasha watches you leave the bathroom before quickly following you. "There's literally no point in going, but whatever."

"One lecture", she says. "Then you're done for the semester."

You give a dismissive wave of your hand and start looking through your shoe cabinet. High heels, which you started wearing almost immediately after giving birth. A pair of old sneakers Natasha stuffed into the back. Ballet flats and combat boots, and finally, your favorite pumps.

Natasha lingers by the door, Niko still in her arms. She's watching you, carefully, trying to find out what to say to make the look on your face go away. She's pretty sure you're being dramatic, but the dejected expression you're wearing stings.

"It's for your own good", she adds unhelpfully. Niko screeches and grabs her cheek. "You'll focus better."

"I don't need focus", you say. You slip on your pumps and straighten up, then scoop the baby out of her hands. "I don't want to abandon him again."

"You're not abandoning him, he's with his favorite mom."

What she said does make the look of dejection on your face go away — but it's replaced with one of offense and, for some reason, deep disappointment. You glance at Niko, who's perfectly content in your arms, and it's enough to make your bottom lip stick out in a little pout.

Natasha panics. Instead of reassuring you, she only made the guilt worse.

"No, hey, you know what I-"

You glance at her and grin. She lets out a huff when she realizes you were messing with her.

"Calm down, love", you say, putting Niko on your hip. "We both know he prefers me. Walking milk bar and whatever. Don't forget his bottle if you go out, yes?"

On any other day, she'd act offended by this. But there's a smile on your face, on that says 'gotcha', and she's too relieved that her plan will work out to say anything. Instead, she rolls her eyes and reaches for her diaper bag.

Ten minutes after you leave for your lecture, she sneaks out of the apartment as well. You see her car round the corner right after you step out of a café.

It's enough to make you pause for a moment. You shouldn't be worried. Niko's with her, so she's got her hands full. They're probably going out for groceries or something. But all you can think about is her insisting you leave, which resulted in her being alone.

And now, she's leaving without telling you. She didn't even mention it before you left, which makes it feel like a secret. Your stomach twists at the thought, and you feel the guilt hit almost immediately after.

Natasha's not that person anymore. She hasn't been in a long time. These are your insecurities speaking, possibly even stemming from the dozens of marks pregnancy left all over your body.

Confused and still not fully calm, you stand in front of the café for another long moment. Iced latte in hand, sunglasses perched on top of your head. Lipstick, blotted with her pinky. Someone nearly bumps into you, which finally lets you snap out.

"Hey", the guy starts, a studied little smirk on his face. But you direct a glare at him. You're not in the mood to be hit on. "Hey, no worries. I'll just-"

"I'm not interested", you say, voice biting and about to incinerate him with a single look. "Fuck off."

He raises his eyebrows and steps aside, hands lifted. "Yeah, I got that. Jesus Christ."

"Shave that mustache", you add. At this point, you're just being petty. "You look ridiculous."

No reply. He scoffs, hands in his pockets, and hurries down the street. You stand there for another second, shifting in your pumps, then turn around and walk toward campus. Your thoughts, however, remain occupied by Natasha.

. . .

Before she manages to go through with the proposal, she nearly screws up three times. The first time it happens, she's in a jewelry store.

Rings in endless variations, shimmering in polished glass displays. Necklaces, gracing the pulse-less necks of jewelry mannequin stands. A stroller with a drooling baby, and a woman who has no clue what she's looking for. The ring has to be perfect.

Natasha nearly drops her phone when it starts ringing. For a second, she fumbles with it like it's a hot potato — much to Niko's amusement, who starts giggling like this is the most entertaining thing he's ever seen —, then she manages to swipe her thumb across the screen and answer the call.

Her voice, when she speaks, is hurried. "Hello?"

"Hey", you immediately say. You're in your lecture hall, leaning back in your seat. "Prof is giving us a five minute break, thought I'd check in with you."

It's obvious that she didn't expect you to call, at least not yet. She hums noncommittally, silently racking her brain for something to say. Niko kicks his legs in his stroller and screeches, and next to her, a young woman talks.

You freeze at the sound. A woman's voice, close to Natasha, sounding young and soft. Something crawls up your spine, and you're not even sure why.

You can trust her, after all. She's loving and committed. Hell, she doesn't even breathe wrong near other women. However, she did tell you she'd spend the day at home with the baby. Part of you would've expected her to tell you about any possible change of plans.

The saleswoman steps closer to Natasha and hands her another box. There's a ring inside it. One you obviously can't see. If you could, it'd maybe help you tone down your anxiety.

All you see, though, is the narrow table your laptop is on. The pen next to it, the baby sock you carry like a lucky charm. And all you hear is the female voice, mumbling something again. If she's this loud even while speaking softly, she must be standing close to Natasha.

"Who was that?", you ask warily. You hear stuttering, and then that same voice again, and you swallow. "Natasha."

"Just helping me with something", she says after floundering. You nearly let go of your phone. "I'll pick you up later, right? After your lecture. I'll bring you some takeout too, just tell me what you want."

Around you, people start returning to their seats. A guy jumps over the rows to get to his chair, a girl gingerly follows him and giggles. Someone edges past you, apologizing when they almost spill your drink. You, however, barely notice. Not even the professor is importantly, even though he's switching to a new slide already.

All you can focus on is Natasha. Natasha, who said she didn't have any plans. Natasha, who's now definitely losing her shit on the phone while pretending not to. Worst of all? — Wherever she may be, she brought Niko with her.

"I don't want takeout", you snap, absently starting to pack up your stuff. You slam your laptop shut with a little more force than necessary. "When will you be home?"

"Uh..." Natasha gives the saleswoman, who's still holding two new rings, a quick glance. "Half an hour?"

'Romanoff, I'm killing you' — those are the first words that pop into your head. But even with your hand balling into a fist on the table, you manage to exhale and calm down enough not to threaten her over the phone.

"I'll be at Wanda's", you say slowly. You're pushing through the overcrowded rows to get to the exit. "Half an hour, right? Pick me up."

"Sure", she says, nodding dumbly. "No takeout?"

"No. Just be on time, alright? I have to nurse."

Natasha gives the saleswoman a slightly more irritated look when she shows her another ring. But this time, instead of shaking her head no, she pauses. You're still panicking silently, still trying to get the thought of her with another woman out of your head. Natasha, however, has found the piece of jewelry she'll be proposing with.

After this, you get a week long break. Natasha makes plans whenever she gets the chance to — she opens her notes the second you're asleep (which she can usually notice happen as your voice will drift off mid sentence); she calls Wanda to ask about flowers and fairy lights and all kinds of stuff you may like (it was a firm no on the condoms, though); she secretly glances at your own Pinterest boards to see what you have in mind.

She's getting somewhere, slowly but surely. She's got the ring, which she hid in the very corner of her locker. She's got an outfit picked out, stored at Wanda's place. She's rehearsed her speech dozens of times. There aren't many things left to do.

The day you get your exam results is inching closer like a dark cloud in the sky. You can feel the weight on your shoulders, so much so that you've almost forgotten about Natasha's promise — if you fail, I'm proposing. A joke, surely. Nothing to be taken seriously.

Still, the hope lingers. She manages to shatter it anyway, and the second time that happens, you think you're about to lose her for good.

It was supposed to be a long day. Your professor had made you get into groups for a project, so you met up at one of the girls' apartment to get started on it. It was tiring, and your head is still hurting from the unnecessary amount of candles and potpourri she has everywhere, but you finished early. The only logical thing to do is go home.

Standing in front of your apartment, you rummage through your purse. Your nails are red and chipped, a bandaid around your thumb — Niko's favorite chewing toy. You open the door, step in, and freeze.

Nothing. Silence. All the lights are turned off, the stroller is missing, the apartment feels empty. Natasha and Niko usually nap on the couch in the afternoon, but it's empty now.

You smell perfume, though. It's not yours, and it definitely isn't hers, either. You see the hoodie slung over the back of a chair, and you feel your skin start to crawl. It's pink and definitely not her size, and it doesn't belong to you, either.

Miami pops into your head, unbidden and intrusive. Stepping through that door and catching her with a stranger left its marks. You like to pretend it didn't, but you know it's true. Right now, you know it more than ever.

You turn around a few times, like you're expecting her to magically step out from behind a corner. But you're alone, and the apartment is empty, and Natasha is standing in the middle of a lecture hall.

She has no idea how they managed to sneak in here. It's noon on a Saturday, and it was locked — but she shouldn't underestimate Wanda with a hairpin, apparently. It took some wiggling and huffing, but eventually, the lock had clicked.

"You're sure about this?", Daisy asks, dragging her finger over one of the windowsills. A thick layer of dust is left on her finger. "This place is gross."

"It makes sense", Natasha defends herself. She's standing on the stairs that lead all the way down to where the professor stands. Niko's in his stroller, asleep and quiet for once. "I mean, I told you. She's not going to expect this, that's for sure."

"She is", Wanda mumbles under her breath. She's all the way in the back, trying to figure out of to make this happen. She doesn't understand Natasha's plan, either. But she seems intent on doing this her way, and they have no choice but to trust her. She's the one who's proposing, after all. She hopefully knows you better than they do.

Daisy nods at the ceiling. "Think we could hang up fairy lights?"

"Scatter the tables with roses", Wanda adds.

"Nothing too obvious", Natasha insists, her hands tucked into the pockets of her basketball shorts. "It's a surprise."

"I still can't believe you convinced her", Daisy says. She walks to the blackboard and nudges it a little further up. "Maybe draw something on this. Or write. I don't know."

Natasha has never been the most creative person. Her skills lie in the physical fields — in basketball and cardio, not poetry and art. Staring at the blackboard, which is still full of little specks of chalk, she can't come up with anything. The best she can offer would be a game strategy.

Daisy, on the other hand, is approaching this with a little more confidence. A few practiced hand movements later, Natasha and Wanda are staring at something that looks a lot like a certain genital.

"Can you take this seriously?", Natasha eventually snaps.

"It is serious."

"What's coming out of-...oh."

Behind her, Niko grunts in his sleep. He's still dozing, but she knows she's approaching the end of his nap. If she wants to get this done, she needs to be quick. But she's still clueless, and the baby makes another noise, and her phone buzzing is the final straw.

She fishes her phone out of her pocket and curses when she sees your name on the screen. Apparently, you're done early with whatever project you're working on. She'd know what it's about, but she's been a little preoccupied. Not even you could blame her for that.

"Who's that?", Wanda pipes up.

"Wifey", Daisy grins. She adds a condom wrapper and puts the chalk aside. "Look, no more accidental babies."

"Shut up", Natasha hisses. She picks up the call, hands sweating and mouth suddenly dry. Just weeks ago, she was joking about this. Joking about a proposal and marriage, joking about things that are now almost giving her more anxiety than the pregnancy did.

She clears her throat before speaking. You, on the other end of the line, frown.

"Yes?", Natasha says. She clears her throat again, and Niko finally wakes up enough to yawn and stretch. He blinks slowly, arms stretched above his head.

"Where are you? And where's my baby?"

Natasha tugs at the neckline of her shirt, silently trying not to panic. You sound pissed. If there's one thing she's learned, it's that you sounding angry when the apartment is empty is a bad sign. On any other occasion, you'd try and rest a bit. Instead, you're about to chew the hell out of her.

"Uhm", she says dumbly, but you're already on a rant.

"You can't keep doing this, you know! The apartment is empty, you idiot. You're both gone. It smells like perfume. Where the fuck are you? Do you know how worried I am?"

"No, I-"

"Who are you with?", you suddenly demand to know. Her cheeks are red and not by now, her eyes meeting Wanda's. All she gets from your best friend is a shrug.

"Listen", Natasha says. She's trying to explain without giving anything away, which seems impossible in that moment. A few years ago, she would've lied her way out of this without struggling at all. Unfortunately, she's somewhat honest now. "We're just, uh..."

"Okay, 'we'?"

"Wanda and Daisy!", she blurts.

There it is. You go silent on the other end of the line, and all she hears is a slow breath. Relief, probably. Or another wave of anger that's about to drown her.

You huff softly, but it doesn't sound angry anymore. Just tired. "Oh. Right."

"They wanted to see Niko", she continues, glancing at the baby. He's half-awake now, rubbing his eyes and his pacifier close to falling out of his mouth. "I thought, you know...we have the day off anyway."

"Got it", you say, nodding. You're feeling dumb now. Guilty, too. You should know better than to believe she'd do something like that. She's not a cheater. "Just come home soon."

"We're leaving in ten", she promises. You hang up again, and she slips her phone back into her pocket.

It does take them ten more minutes. Wanda gets a list of things to do, Daisy gets a list of things not to do. Natasha doesn't know what she's doing, but she's following her instincts. Hopefully, that'll be enough.

When she gets home, you can't even bring yourself to be mad at her. Red hair, in a low bun. A baby on her hip. A bouquet of roses in her hand, red and fresh. Her green eyes give you a look that's filled with half a dozen different apologies.

You want to cry. You're standing in the doorway, dressed in an oversized shirt and a pair of her boxers, all ready to fight. But she's sweaty and flushed, so all you manage to do is cup her face and kiss her stupid mouth. She doesn't taste different, thank god. Like plain chapstick and toothpaste, nothing else.

Not a hint of perfume on her clothes either, you silently register. Niko squeals and grabs your ear, and that's enough to make you pull away.

"You were worried?", she mumbles, snaking one arm around your waist. The roses press against your lower back. You reach up to brush strands of hair, curling slightly in the heat, from her face.

"Losing my mind, actually." You peck her lips again, your nose brushing against hers. "You brought flowers."

"You deserve them", she says, revealing the bouquet again. You accept it and try to breathe in the scent, but Niko is quicker. His chubby little hand darts forward and grasps one of the flowers. Red petals are squished between his fingers.

You raise your eyebrows at him and take his hand. A ticklish spot on his wrist makes his fingers loosen. Instead of trying to whine and complain, he stretches out his arms so you can pick him up. Natasha, his favorite mom — yeah right.

"He missed you", she adds, following you into the apartment. "I missed you. How was it?"

"The project? Not bad."

Natasha nods and leans against the wall. Her hands are back in the pockets of her shorts, and she's watching you as you change Niko on the couch. It's becoming more and more of a struggle every day. The more he wants to move, the closer he is to rolling off the couch.

"The exam results", she suddenly says. You glance at her, one hand resting on Niko's belly so he doesn't flop over. "Next week. You nervous?"

You grimace slightly. Exam results — two words you don't want to hear right now. You've been pushing those worries aside, as you can't do anything about it anymore either. Part of you is fairly certain you failed, though.

"Don't remind me", you say and reach for the wicker basket on the coffee table. You keep some of Niko's essentials, like diapers and wet wipes, there. "Do you know how much I'll have to work to make up for that? I'll have a nervous breakdown before summer starts, I'm telling you."

Natasha shifts and shrugs, a single red lock coming loose and blocking her left eye. "Not looking forward to it? Can't think of anything good that might happen?"

"Hold still", you mumble. Niko squeals and kicks at your hand, getting some diaper cream on his foot. You give her a quick, doubting look. "Are you on something? What's there to look forward to?"

Asking you this question was her way of gauging your mood. She's been worried about this for a while, because getting proposed to right after receiving a bad grade doesn't sound like the ideal way to get engaged. You might be too disappointed, after all. Or you might end up strangling her.

You're oblivious, though. You're too busy trying to keep your baby from somersaulting off the couch, so you close his diaper and use the heel of your hand to wipe the cream off his toes.

"I mean", Natasha begins. She falters. "I don't know. Like, maybe something nice happens. Come on, you can't be that negative."

The look you shoot at her makes her recoil a little. Eyebrows raised, you turn around to button Niko's onesie back up and scoop him into your arms.

"You're mocking me at this point", you say, irritated, and carry the baby into the bedroom. Natasha follows — she hesitates, but she follows. "You know I've been nervous for weeks, Nat."

"Yes, but-"

You stop in your tracks and whip around, jamming your finger into her chest. Her eyes widen and she comes to a sudden halt. You're in a shirt that's swallowing you whole, diaper cream on your knee and a sleepy baby on your hip. Yet, she's never been more terrified.

Except for once. She's not forgetting about the night in the dorm anytime soon.

"I don't need you to go on and on about this", you say firmly. Niko nuzzles your shoulder with his face and yawns. "I don't keep reminding you of basketball games either when you haven't been practicing enough. So quit it."

She lifts her hands. She's powerless here, and arguing would only make matters worse. If she wants you to say yes, she should probably make sure you don't leave her before she has the chance to ask.

"Alright", she says, furrowing her eyebrows. You sigh and put your hand on Niko's back again. "I'll let it go, babe."

"Good."

Natasha stays in the doorway, watching you sit down and lift your shirt. Six days — that's when you're getting your results back. Six days, and she has to make sure she doesn't screw up. The ring is in her locker already, waiting patiently behind old clothes and a stack of books.

There's not much time to make another mistake. But Natasha's a woman of many talents, and she manages to do it anyway.

. . .

Friday morning. Natasha's been up since 4am, and this time, it isn't Niko's fault. It's her anxiety, the tingling feeling in her stomach, the ring that's now hidden in the back of the closet.

You haven't noticed yet, somehow. You're at the kitchen table, attached to the breastmilk pump and yawning, one hand rocking Niko's bassinet. He's asleep with his hand resting on his tummy. You've been oblivious all morning, but that's about to change.

You watch Natasha as she darts around the kitchen like a restless bird. Pots clatter, the coffee machine grinds, and she curses when she drops a slice of whole grain bread. She bends over to pick it up, then goes back to opening one drawer after the other.

"Nat?", you ask, still rocking the bassinet. She doesn't even look at you. "Hey, babe. How many energy drinks did you have?"

"Huh?" She turns around, eyes sleep-deprived and hair disheveled. "None. Why?"

"You're running around like a headless chicken", you say. "It's making me nervous."

"That's not exactly my issue", she mutters, turning back around. She closes the drawer, but instead of doing it gently, she accidentally slams it back into place. Silverware rattles loudly, and Niko fusses in his bassinet. "Shit, fuck- sorry."

You frown, one hand rubbing the baby's belly. He goes right back to sleep. But what really worries you is Natasha, and her behavior these past couple weeks. She's somewhere else all the time. She's texting people at night, when she thinks you're asleep. You heard her take a call in the bathroom once, her voice a hushed whisper.

Something's going on, and she won't tell you what it is. Not knowing makes it all the more scary.

"Do you want to talk?", you ask and get up. You remove the breast pumps and carry them to the baby bottles by the sink. Natasha immediately leans in, pressing an apologetic kiss to your temple. "You're acting weird."

"Weird?", she mumbles, still nuzzling your temple. Her arms wrap around your shoulders. "Not weird. Hm, you smell nice."

You pull away to give her a confused look, but she doesn't budge. One hand sneaks to the waistband of your sweatpants, but you lightly slap it aside.

"I'm the one who's postpartum", you remind her. "Mood swings are my thing. What's wrong with you?"

Natasha frowns, clearly offended. Still, you see the anxious little flicker in her eyes. The one that hasn't disappeared in weeks. Not fully.

"Wrong?", she asks, putting her hand on your side once more. She hooks her thumb into the waistband. "Nothing's wrong with me. I'm just appreciating my beautiful girlfriend. You're so hot, you know."

"And you're acting off", you retort. You slip out of her embrace and grab the baby bottles. "We're leaving soon. Are you going to keep staring at my ass or make yourself useful?"

Your question doesn't even register. She's been thinking about the engagement ring in the closet all day, but now that she's able to ogle you, it's not the only thing on her mind. Unfortunately, you have different plans.

Before you leave the house, she manages to sneak into the bedroom one more time. The red velvet feels soft beneath her fingertips, and she slides it into her backpack.

You both have class, so you part for the first two hours of the morning. Much to Natasha's relief — she still needs to meet up with Wanda to make sure everything's ready.

Phone in her hand and hair in a low bun, she stands in front of her open locker. She's typing on her phone, her head almost fully inside the dark space. It smells like deodorant and something old, but at least she's not being bothered by anyone. It's quiet, it's allowing her to be deep in thought. All she can see is the lit up screen in her hands.

Then, someone taps her shoulder. Slamming her phone into the locker screen-down, she whips around. The eyes she meets are way too familiar. She sees them every day, every night. She's seen them in every situation imaginable.

There it is. The third time she almost screws it up.

"Y/N", she stutters, blindly reaching for the door of the locker. Her hand slips from it once before she finally shuts it. "What are you- I thought we're meeting in the library."

"We were", you say, a frown on your face. You didn't miss the way she tossed her phone into the locker. "Were you trying to climb in there?"

"No, just..." She shakes her head, sweating already. She thought she'd have at least another half an hour before she'd soak through her shirt, but maybe she was wrong. "Just looking for my hoodie."

You glance at the locker again, think about her phone that's buried somewhere in the mess inside it. Natasha tries to distract you by scooping Niko from your arms, but it doesn't work. She was texting someone. She was hiding inside her locker, and she panicked when you showed up.

You shift your weight from one leg to the other. Your fingers are twisting your earring nervously, but your voice is quiet and sharp.

"If you have something to tell me", you say, "you better tell me now. Seriously. I'm sick of your lies."

Natasha's eyes flicker up from Niko's face. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. She was nervous before already — she barely slept, battled nausea and jitters all morning, tried to keep herself from bolting. After all this time, she isn't perfect. Proposing has turned out to be a bigger challenge than she thought it'd be, no matter how committed she might be.

"No lies", she promises. Niko squawks and slaps her chest. "Promise. You just startled me."

"Natasha", you hiss, stepping closer. "Stop lying. What are you hiding?"

She looks at you, heart beating wildly and face dumbfounded. You're not backing down from this. You're inches away from her face, smelling like perfume and looking like you're about to murder her on the spot.

She's trapped. There's no way out. Either she explains, or you're storming out and causing the plans she has to go up in flames. Neither choice is good, but she knows which one sounds less painful. She has to ruin the surprise, even if it stings.

But then, she looks over your shoulder just in time. Daisy is hurrying down the hallway, waving the phone in her hand. The midterm results are in, which means you'll get distracted. Natasha perks up.

"Hey!", she says. You frown and turn around. "Midterms! Came in five minutes ago!"

You blink, then reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. Natasha was right: you are distracted. You're still not happy with her, but you're too focused on logging into the course portal. The grade pops up on your screen, but you don't really have to check it. There's a word next to it, all capital letters and red, which tells you what you need to know.

FAILED.

Natasha peeks at the screen right as you turn off your phone. You're not too surprised, but the result is disappointing anyway. Catching up will be hard.

"Oh", she mumbles. She glances at your face. "Sorry, babe."

"No, I..." You exhale and shake your head. "It's fine. It sucks, but it's fine. I'll catch up, right?"

She hums, eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You're sad. I can think of something to change that."

You give her an irritated look. No way is she trying to use this to initiate sex. You're on campus, in the middle of a hallway, and she's trying to take your clothes off again. But she doesn't flinch, doesn't back down.

"You think that's funny?"

"It's not", she says, her voice sincere. She grabs your hand to lift it to her lips and press a kiss against your knuckles. "I know what'll cheer you up. Don't trust me?"

"No", you quickly reply. Natasha huffs. "You're acting weird. Again."

She tugs at your hand, as insistent as ever. She's always been like this. Even back then when you rejected her time after time, she kept trying. She knew it'd be worth it, and she still does. The only difference is that, now, it isn't about sex.

"Please", she says. Her hand squeezes yours, her feet start to move. The soles of her shoes squeak on vinyl flooring, and you're following her without really realizing. Niko's still in her arms, now dozing off. "Just this once."

"You've said that before", you remind her and narrow your eyes.

Natasha cracks a smile and shrugs. You've rounded the corner and are now approaching one of the lecture halls. Not having expected this, you blink a few times when she leads you towards it. She lets go of your hand to open the door.

Inside, it's different than usual. Not all of it is — the tiered seating, the fold-down chairs, are all the same. The smell of old paper and chalk, too, as well as the empty podium and the large blackboard.

But fairy lights hang from the ceiling. There's a thin stack of papers on one of the tables, as well as a pen next to it. Her cologne is woven through the other, less comforting smells.

You look at her, still wary. "What the fuck."

She rolls her eyes and nudges you toward the seats. You sigh and step closer, glancing at the stack of papers. All that's written on the front is your name in big letters. Natasha's handwriting.

"Sit down", she says. Niko lets out a sleepy yawn, but his green eyes are glued to the lights stretching across the ceiling. "Come find me after."

You shake your head, still staring at the papers. By the time her words have registered, she's left. The door has fallen shut and you're alone in the lecture hall.

The epiphany is sudden and unbearable. This is what she's been so secretive about. You've been distrustful and snippy about it, but she spent weeks working on whatever this is anyway. She kept going until the very last second.

Your footsteps are loud in the empty space. You slowly sit down, eyes on the papers, and reach for the pen. You flip the first page over and skim it — multiple choice questions —, then actually read the first question.

1. Where did we meet?

Ⓡ Library

Ⓓ University's main entrance

Ⓨ Parking lot

Ⓛ Behind a bar

It makes you pause. Every muscle in your body seems to go rigid for a moment. It's a pop quiz, a custom one Natasha made. And you're supposed to sit here, and answer questions, and hopefully find out what the hell she's planned.

You have an idea, but you don't dare hold onto that hope. Maybe this is a setup.

You hesitate for a second, then pull the cap off the pen and put a cross over the Ⓓ. If there's one thing you're not forgetting, it's where you met. How you met, really. You could swear you still feel a slight dent in the back of your head.

You look at the second question and purse your lips.

2. Great choice! What did I throw at you? (Sorry about that)

Ⓩ Water bottle

Ⓖ Eraser

Ⓒ Myself lol

Ⓞ Basketball

It's answer Ⓞ, of course. Your hand instinctively feels for the dent at the back of your head, but you can't find it. You probably imagined having one in the first place.

The next questions continue in a similar manner. From the color of her jersey to your favorite lipstick, your first kiss and your anniversary. You hold your breath when you reach the last one.

8. Who should not have to work a day in their life?

Ⓦ Me

Ⓐ Niko

Ⓤ Random guy from the gym

Ⓜ︎ My wife (you?)

You stare at it for a long while. Another thing you remember. The night you tried and miserably failed to study for your midterm. Endless slides of molecular biology knowledge, a colicky baby, a less than helpful but well meaning Natasha. Suddenly, her intentions are clear.

Your hand shakes as you put a cross over the Ⓜ︎. You skim the answers, the letters of the answers to be exact, and write them down one by one.

D - O - R - M R - O - O - M

You shove the pen aside with so much force that it rolls off the table, but you ignore it. Instead, you get up and leave the fairy lights-adorned space that Natasha may have changed forever. If you ever have another lecture here, you won't be able to think about anything else.

You know what she's talking about. Your old dorm — it's where you spent a majority of your relationship. Before Niko, before you even thought about calling this love. Back then, getting to the point you're at now seemed impossible. But things are different.

Your heart is pounding in your ears. Whatever she's about to do — she means it. That alone makes the weeks of fear and uncertainty worth it. Suddenly, the way to the dormitory seems unnecessarily long.

The door creaks when you push it open. Inside the hallway of the dorm, it still smells the exact same as it did about a year ago. Mildew, citrus, beer. There's a cigarette butt and some shards on the floor, but you ignore those. You reach the elevator and repeatedly push the button to make the old device react.

The doors seem to be stuck for a moment, then they finally slide open. You press the button to the desired floor without having to think about it. They slide open again, revealing a hallway that's dark and familiar. You step out and stare at the door across from you.

There were stickers on it once. Tons of them, covering it and giving it a little life. Whoever moved into the dorm room now peeled them off. They're all gone, except for a little part of Strawberry Shortcake's hat.

You hesitate when you see the flicker of light coming from the narrow gap underneath the door. But then you step closer, and the doorknob still feels round and cold in your hand, and a single twist of it reveals your old dorm room. Your heart stumbles when you see it.

A twin bed and a desk. An old closet. More fairy lights, a bunch of candles, and Natasha going down on her knee so fast she almost topples over. For once, she's in a suit. It's even ironed. You didn't think that detail would be the one to make you tear up, but somehow, it is.

The best part is her face, though. You've never seen her this nervous, and the tears in your eyes only worsen the anxiety. Her hands shake when she pulls out a little velvet box and opens it, and the ring inside shimmers.

"Y/N-", she begins, voice just as unsteady. You don't really need to hear the rest, though. You're seeing enough, and you've known your answer to this for a while.

"Yes."

She looks up and blinks. Her eyebrows furrow a little and she tries to shift her weight. "Dude, I have a speech prepared."

You shake your head and rub your eyes. "Sorry, I..." You let out a choked little laugh and gesture at her. "You look ridiculous. Keep going."

Natasha stares for another moment, her heart thrumming. She clears her throat and tries to remember what she wrote down — a full page, which is impressive considering she doesn't like to write much. But the words fail her, and so she needs to improvise.

"I practiced this in front of the mirror", she explains, absently toying with the ring box. "I tried. I got interrupted. This will probably suck, you know, but I make up for it in other ways. Promise."

"Yeah", you mumble, nodding. "You do."

"I try", she adds. "Every day. For you and Niko. I don't want him to remember a day where there wasn't a ring on your finger. He should know how amazing his mom is. Because you are, and I want you to know that. I want to be the one telling you that forever. Every game I win is for you."

At this point, you're barely keeping yourself from dragging her off the floor and into a kiss. Your eyes are burning, your jaw is set stubbornly. But Natasha is still reciting quotes from the poetry book that her mind has turned into, and truthfully, it's too sweet to interrupt.

"I'm sweating through my shirt", she says, shifting again. You've seen her restless before, usually at important events. If she could, she'd wear sweatpants and a hoodie everywhere. "I ironed it myself. I think you can tell."

"I can't", you say. You opt for a faint smile, but your eyes are burning. "I don't know how to iron, either. Sorry about that."

Natasha smiles back, her grip on the ring box getting tighter. The fairy lights around her flicker softly and she looks down at the floor. She swore to herself she wouldn't cry, but she doesn't think she'll be able not to.

"That's fine", she says. "We'll survive wrinkly clothes. We survived everything else, too."

"Dramatic", you whisper. But she's right, anyway. You survived months of living off ramen, you survived the fights and the days where you didn't think it'd get better. Months of pining, which was worse because it was mutual.

There was no communication. All you knew was to get loud.

"No", Natasha says. "Not dramatic. I was the worst version of myself and you still wanted me. That's really fucking impressive, by the way. And...I had a quote prepared, but I think I forgot."

You shake your head. It feels like the room is spinning. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm sweating through my suit", she adds, tugging at one lapel. "This was supposed to be longer, but I kinda feel faint. And I can't really ask you if I pass out, so...”

Natasha holds the box a little higher. She tilts her head to the side and smiles, but her voice cracks. "Marry me?"

You've said yes already. A bunch of times, actually — when you walked into the lecture hall and took the fake pop quiz. When you walked to your old dorm. When you saw her on one knee, hair just slightly messy and cheeks as pink as if she'd been practicing basketball for hours. She never needed to finish the speech.

You say it again, anyway.

"Yes."

Natasha stares, heart pounding faster than when they won the championship game last March. She almost drops her ring on her way to you, but remembers its purpose in the last second.

Her hand grips yours, and the piece of jewelry is slid onto your ring finger. Before she can do much else, you've grabbed the front of her suit and pulled her into a kiss that makes her stumble.

She catches herself quickly, though, and her hands land on your waist. She doesn't resist when you walk her backwards. In fact, a very obvious part of her seems to approve of being pushed onto the twin bed.

Natasha paid the girl who lives here now $200 to move her stuff out for the day and let her use the room. She never said anything about using the bed, but that's a problem for later. You're straddling her already, which makes it hard to think anyway.

Your hands fumble with the buttons of her shirt. Your mouth presses against hers again and again, lips slick and noses bumping.

"Where's...the baby?...", you ask in between kisses. You finally slip off her shirt.

"Daisy", she mumbles. She pulls away to start peppering kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone. In the middle of sucking a hickey into your skin, she pauses. "Hey, I remember the quote."

"Not the time", you say, pushing her down. Your hands reach for her zipper, opening it and pulling at her slacks. She lifts her hips to help you. "No condom?"

She shakes her head and watches you undress. Her chest is heaving with each breath, and she's fighting hard for every single one. "We risked it once. Turned out fine."

You hum and sink down. You both moan at the same time, and you bury your hands in her hair once you've undone her braid. She leans in to bury her face in your chest.

"Love you", she mumbles. Hands on your hips, she guides every movement. "Thank you for saying yes."

You scoff, but it melts into a moan when she thrusts up into you. "Don't- don't thank me. Ruins it."

"You're right."

Natasha's fingers curl into your skin, her thumbs rubbing circles into it. Little stretch marks look like a map, and she's memorized them a while ago. Her lips press kisses to your chest, her face nuzzling it. You come with her body under yours and her ring on your finger.

Moments later, you're curled up on the bed together. You're playing with strands of her hair. The room smells like candles and the chocolate covered strawberries she forgot on the dresser.

Her hand runs up and down your back, tracing your spine. A kiss is placed on your forehead. You look up, immediately seeing her eyes, and tilt your head at the look in them. She smiles lazily.

"Want to hear the quote?"

[fluer-the-fairy]

𝕶𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖘

Chapter 1 Batfam x Card-Captor!reader

♡ previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next ♡

"Y/N!!!!"

You're falling. Falling down from a height that could kill you with nothing to break your fall. The air hitting your face is suffocating, Too much for you little lungs to handle

But if only it was that. And not the fact that there was massive outer worldly bird trying to Impale you to death

'Pause'

Now how on earth did you of all people get here?

Y/n  L/n or Y/n Wayne depends on who you're asking.

A Fourth grader at Gotham elementary. 

Nothing special really. Yet here you are, with tiny yellow mascot yelling instructions at you while you playa around trying to figure out how to use the powers you had been gifted.

Let's rewind shall we? Recap on this came to be in the first place?

How about we go back.... 

to this morning!

"Damn It I'm late again!?" The young girls voice echo's as she dashes her way down the stairs. Speeding through the kitchen putting just about anything she finds into her mouth

"Young miss please eat slowly, You still have plenty time to get to school"  Alfred please, stopping you from eating a fork with nothing on it.

You stand unwavering, downing another slice of bread as quickly as your throat would let you "There no time I have to leave before that-" 

"Seems that the monster has awakened" Damian stands near the door, looking frustrated. You swear the more he furrows his brows like that the older he's going to look. Like an old greasy man.

You would say it to his face. But You would want him to beat you like he did on your first meeting.

The reason you go an hour early to school.

Not because you're in a million clubs you're in nor because your a class lead.

Because of him. Damian Wayne

The only one who gave you attention. Attention you don't need.

You're Half Brother. 

Don't call him that though. He'll have his stupid feelings hurt about being compared to a 'bastard'.

Every encounter with him is nothing short from exhausting.

You should've guessed that when he threatened your life the first time you met him. And yet poor naïve you, chased after them for their attention like a dog.

Thank god that's changed

Otherwise this your story would truly be obnoxious.

But leave it, he is just a minor obstacle in you're day. 

You quickly grab you're book bag before turning to leave. Of course not before stepping on Damian's foot. Rushing to the door putting on your roller skates  and skating out the door before the spawn of Satan can catch up to you.

Now, It's commonly know that Gotham isn't the safest. 

Being an unarmed civilian walking down the streets is enough to draw threats.

Now an unarmed young school girl, criminal's would have a field day!

But not with you apparently? You don't know why...

You've only been jumped once going down these streets and that time you had stabbed the assholes with the ends of your Rollerblades. Let's be honest you did more than that 

But surely, that alone is not enough scare away every fool who thinks of robbing you. Surely not!

Hahahahahaha... Of course not....

 Once in a while there's always an idiot whose ego defeats their logic. A dumbass who doesn't know how to be cautious. A dimwit who can't listen to other's warning.

"Drop you bag, a-a-and take off your skates while your at it-!"

Poor guy, seems like it's his first day robbing someone. Picked the wrong kid though...

You skate closer "My bag?"

"Y-yes..." he stutter's...

You smile, wide. That'll be the last thing he'll see before having the day lights knocked out of him.

.

...

....

Let's not talk about what happened back there okay? 

You totally did not kick that man head first into a dumpster. But hey its not even close to the worst you've done. You made 

sure he didn't bleed, oh how nice of you!

 Let's leave it at that.

Sliding your way through the school gate you finally get inside the entrance hall. A bit early...That's rare. Maybe it's going to rain today.

You take off your skates and place them in your locker. 

While we wait for you to finally get to class let's have a debrief shall we?

What on god green earth made you think it was a good idea to skate your way to school?

Well it's not like you had a choice! Sure your father is a multimillionaire-billionaire what ever-! And you probably could go to school with the rest of your siblings....in the car...with no danger.

Or! You could not interact with Damian what so ever and find your own way to school.

To you the second option sounds better.

"Oh! Good morning Y/n!" Chiharu beams. Rika, Naoko, and Tomoyo turn to you.

"I'm not late...am I?" 

"Nope You're early actually!" Tomoyo says as she walks 

towards you and hugs you tight.

"Good...I was so sure I was going to be late" You pat your chest. The adrenaline settling down.

The rest of the day went through a blur, Math, Science, Home Eco and finally cheer practice. Before you know it your one your way home. You used to go home with Alfred in the car, since your school time ends early. But ever since that roach  Damian joined your school you decided to take the long way home.

Toya and Yukito would usually walk you home. Tomoyo too when she doesn't have classes which is most days but not today. You'll just have to walk your self home...

It's quiet... a little too quiet. It's past 10 pm. Your sure that the family's out on their night business. Not that they know you know, but doesn't take a genius to guess. 

Especially since you live with them. 

But it's eerily quiet... So quiet that the sound of the wind makes you jump.

Slowly making your way out of your room into the long empty hallway. I doesn't help that the wing your room is in is barely maintained, making it even more creepy.

After what felt like an eternity of walking you stop. Infront of the library door.... Why were you here? 

A thud comes from inside. Followed by rustles. Did someon3 break in?? No dumbass there no way this house even a bit unprotected. Surely it's Alfred inside. I shouldn't bother him...

No...I can't leave without calming my nerves, there's no way I can sleep tonight with this much adrenaline

You slowly creak the door open. Peeking through the door before walking in. The rustling stopped but you could still hear this sound.

Following the sound lead you to the book. A red book with gold accents and a lion with angel wings on the front?

The clow...  was written on the top.

You really shouldn't be holding something like this... Yet something compelled you to open it.

You were only able to open the first few pages, the rest being glued with the center being cut out. Inside were a set of cards.

Pulling one out, Windy was the cards name. With a beautiful fairy as its image. Was this some kind of Rpg card game thing...? It looks fun...

"Windy..." You read out loud. You shouldn't have...

A magic circle forms underneath you as a gust of wind swirls around you. The cards fly out of the book following the wind before flying out in all directions.

What.

The.

■■■■-!?

Oh No No no no no no no no-! This bad- This is SO bad. You're ■■■■ your so ■■■■!

Your family life is shitty as it is. Now you've lost something from the library, Not to mention that it looked important. oh you dumb ■■■■ what were you thinking even stepping foot into this room-

Yawn  "How long have I been asleep for~" a yellow creature floats in front of you.

You stare at it as it stretches is plush arms and rub its dot eyes.

"Oh heya human didn't see yo- ah-" it yelped as you grabbed its body with your fist, shaking it vigorously like a toy.

"What the hell? A toy?? Where are the batteries at?" You say as you turn it around looking for the battery compartment.

"What the- I am not a toy you brat!" It replies finally freeing itself from your grab. 

" 'Ahem' I am Keroberos!"

"Kero.. You mean Cerberus? Like The three headed hellhound?"

"DO NOT COMPARE ME TO THAT BEHEMOTH OF A CREATURE!!!!"

...

"I am Keroberos the guardian of the Clow cards and clow reeds dutiful right hand!" He boast's

"Clow cards...? Oh like the cards in this book..." You look down at the book you were once holding now on the floor open with the contents missing. Then your gaze wonders to the card you were holding ... Windy...

Wait.

How did that even happen???  Were these cards magic? The moment you read its name out loud it glowed...

"Wait- Are the cards in the book...Magic?"

"Bingo! Those cards are one the strongest artifacts created by  one of the strongest magicians In~The~World!" He looks down at the book of clow, noticing the empty center.

"So where are they?" 

"Where is...what..?"

"The cards!" He asks joyfully

"They flew out..." You say meekly. 

"They want now" :D

. . .

"WHAT!?"

"I am sorry okay I kept hearing this sound from the book and I opened it and took out the Windy card and then I read the name out loud by accident I swear and then the HUGE gust of wind came out and made all the cards fly through the walls some how I'm so so sorry!"

"YOU LOST THE CARDS!?" Now Keroberos was panicking, He lost clows cards! His other half is going to kill him!

And not to me tonight now he has a child who know about their existence! What on earth is he going to do?????????

"...technically its also your fault."

. . .

"Excuse me."

"You were the guardian of the cards, the said cards that are now missing. And you were asleep when it happened, so one would argue that it was due to your negligence that the cards were released by my poor 10 year old incapable hands...."

This little-

"You have one big mouth now, don't you?" That's it he's going to loose his shit.

"Whose mouth are you calling big" Seems like your about to aswell.

But unfortunately before a brawl could commence A ear bleeding roar reached both your ears. Looking out from the closest window you could find.

A giant bird flying through the city, trying to wriggle its way past buildings only to crash into them.

"That's a clow card!" Keroberos exclaims. He flies down to the book of clow and rummage through it. He throws a charm at you which you catch with ease.

He'll just have to choose you as a candidate.. Not like he'd ever actually choose you. Then Yue won't know this was all an accident! And then he won't get his ass beat! Genius!

"Whats this" Of course he still needs to remember your just a clueless child, Unknowing of all the magic you two's little fuck up just released.

He'll have to properly explain everything to you later...But for now...

"The sealing staff, The artifact clow made in case the cards get released one day." 

"Since your the one who released the cards your going to seal them."

"What seriously!? Why me? Im way too under qualified for this-"

"I'll explain the specifics later! Just summon the staff!"

♡♡♡

"Key which hides the powers of the dark,

Reveal your true form before me.

I, [Y/N] [L/N], command you under our contract.

Release!"

♡♡♡

The charm enlarges into a staff. It almost resembles a cane. You grab onto it unsure of how you even managed to activate it.

"Some how the words just popped into my head..."

"Yeahhhh it does that.... well then let move. Come one we have a bird to catch"

That all leads us full circle. A 10 year old falling through the sky while a giant bird, the size of two air ship's tries to peck at them.

You're lucky there's an outbreak happening in the city below you other wise people would not be blind to the catastrophe happening in the sky.

"Kid! Snap out of it!!" Kero yells at you. Right you should probably focus on yourself right now.

"W-what do i do?" You manage to mutter out.

"Windy! Cast Windy!" The staff manifests under one hand as you reach for your pocket with your other.

"Windy!" You're throw the card and strike it with your staff. A magic circle appearing underneath you. The figure entrapped within the card floating out and assisting you. 

"Y/N!" Kero yells "Gosh I got it! I got it!" You fall onto the back of the bird and eventually stand up, raising the staff over your head. 

"Reclaim the guise you were meant to inhabit! Clow card!"

You strike with your staff, a card forming at the tip. A bright light envelops the birds body. The silhouette disfiguring and being absorbed into the card.

You grab the card before it flies away.

Fly

So that's what it's called. Fly.

"This isnt the time to be spacing out brat!" Oh yeah. Now that the birds gone you're not really standing on anything...

"CAST FLY CAST FLY CAST FLY CAST FLY CAST FLY CAST FLY CAST FLY-" 

"fly." Wings sprout from the tip of the staff. They start flapping as you sit on it, flying to safety. 

"Oh thank god-!" Kero exclaims.

You raise a brow. Why was he scared he could fly???

"Your surprisingly scared for someone who can fly"

"You're surprisingly calm for someone who was falling to their death! You could've died! Do you have no sense of survival!!!"

'Sigh' "No biggie now. Just fly back to your house, let's talk there..."

You replaced the charm of one of your necklaces with the charm Keroberos gave you. Putting it on while The yellow shit stares at the unopened pudding on the desk with a monstrous intensity.

"Cant believe you believe you bought 12 packs of premium pudding...just like that..." Seriously he's so dramatic, you could've sworn you saw a tear right then.

"You even bought a mini fridge..." He turns to the [f/c] mini fridge placed next the desk, its polished surface shining for all to see.

"I did it ... I struck gold...I'm so glad I picked a rich girl to be the Clow card candidate..." He mutters as he hugged the pudding, the condensed water droplets on the packages making his cheeks wet.

"Enough of that" You drag away the pudding opening it up for him and handing him a little plastic spoon that almost as tall as him. Almost.

"Alrighty then! Long ago, In a distant land-"

"Keroberos!"

"Fine fine. The clow cards are magical artifact created by clow reed, My master. I am the guardian of the seal and Therefore I am the one who chooses the candidates who get to be the new master of the clow cards!" He chuggs a spoonful of pudding. So fast you can actually see the lump going down to his stomach.

"And dear Y/n I choose you as a candidate. You don't have much of a choice considering that this all started cause of you....and also me."

"Lucky me...." You sigh. Of all 8 billion people on this world, you were the one person chosen to be in this shoujo manga.

Your shoulders slump as you hide your face in your hands.

The reality of everything finally dawning on you. What if someone saw you? Sure with the chaos going on below people were probably too busy to realize what was happening above them.

Still anyone could've seen it, Anyone could've seen you. to be fair the bird was pretty ■■■■-ing loud but If someone didn't see you or even a person. They can still figure out it you with I don't know video footage from the camera's-

Calm down Y/n if your really going to catch these cards then... your going to have to more careful than this.

"Cheer up chump! Atleast you have me now! And um I don't really know how the book ended up in your family's library but if there cam looking for me....?" Kero asked, plopped down next to the now empty pudding container.

"Don't worry the last place they'll check is if it's with me." You replied, Not looking up for your hands

"Hahaha Great...Great..." Keroberos replied, unable to keep the cheery atmosphere. 

Forgetting all the assumption he made about you in the library. You really are a sweet girl.

 But what bothered him was how no one questioned you were gone.

While trying to catch fly. He saw all the chaos happening on the ground, So after buying his pudding he made a million excuses for you to use once you got home, but no one was concerned.

He knows they saw you. He saw saw them see you. He saw them. But no one batted an eye. 

From your explanation. He understands this happens often in Gotham but....

He doesn't get why the looked at you like you were part of the wall

"Hey kiddo, While on the topic about your family..." He nervously ask's unsure of how to approach the subject.

"What is it.."

"Are you like..not close with them? Well I mean in a dangerous city as this one. I thought someone would be concerned that a kid as young as you were out all by your self..."

"Its a long story..." You try to brush off the subject.

( °꒳° ) 

"I have time" He smiles flying closer to you.

"And I don't. I have school tomorrow and I really need sleep." You get up from your chair. Keroberos following you. Begging you even as you get comfortable in your bed. 

"Oh come on. Y/n... Y/n!!!! Please. Please. Please. Tell me your family lore PLEASE"

 He plops on your stomach. No he will not falter. He may need sleep but he will stay up all night begging if he has to! 

You did eventually tell him everything that happened.

Considering that stayed up all night asking you to tell him. 

You had no choice! 

Needless to say your family now has beef with a century old sentient magical creature who takes the form of a plushie. 

And funny thing is they don't even know about it.

"I swear to you, when I catch those demon brats hands I'm gonna" Keroberos puffs out his cheek, throwing punches at the air

"Your not gonna do a thing..." You mumble sleepily

'scoff'  "Don't worry Y/n. You don't need them. I'll be your dad. 

I'll be the dad that stepped up." He says face full of determination.

You smile. Maybe this whole Card-captor thing is worth a try 

"Whatever. Good night Kero"

And with that you close your eye's

...

Kero pauses but the smiles at the nickname.

He curls up near you on the bed.

Maybe you weren't a bad choice.

"Goodnight. N/n."

The next day went as usual. Wake up, Scream that your late, stomp on Damian's foot. Rushing out in your roller-skates and reach school. Only this time there was a yellow plushie poking it's head out of your school bag, yapping the day off...

For something so tiny he sure does have a lot to say. 

You reach the school gates, and slide inside. Taking off your skates and placing them in your locker.

"Listen, you shouldn't talk now okay? If a teacher see's you they'll confiscate you. And if a kid sees you they'll probably 

steal you away."

"Considering how annoying you are, I could only hope someone steal me away"

"Not everyone has the resources to get you premium pudding"

You make your way to your home room class just mer seconds before your teacher comes in. 

Not late. Great....

"Y/N" tomoyo walks up to your desk camera in hand.

"Tomoyo! Hi~" You smile.

"Did you see happened last night?" She places her camera on the desk, the screen facing you.

"The outbreak? Yeah I kinda saw a few explosion's, nothing out of the ordinary though..." 

"I'm not talking about that, That happens everyday. Did you see the gaint bird in the sky yesterday?"

"G-gaint bird!? Wha- Hahahahhaha must've been too far away for me to see it." You laugh nervously. It's fine compared to a giant bird you were miniscule, no-one probably saw you struggling against that thing.

"Really?" Tomoyo ask's.... Almost... questioningly? Like she already knew everything that happened.

There's no way! Tomoyo wouldn't have seen you, I mean she probably saw the bird sure but even if she did see a person there no way she would have known it was you-

She turns on a camera. Moving through a bunch of videos before landing on one and playing it. She places it in front of you again.

The video shows... a moon?

"W-wow I didn't know it was a full moon yesterday hahaha" god you need to stop laughing it's only making you look more suspicious. She zooms into the moon, and you could see a tiny silhouette flying on what looks like a broom? But that could be anyone!

She zooms in again, and there it is. Your face. Clear as day.

Tomoyo smiles. Patiently waiting for an answer as your nervous laughter dies down. 

You've been caught