#I’m going again for the same class next Monday

[tundrakatiebean]

I had another modeling session today which was good. I legitimately enjoy doing this. I’m basically getting paid to meditate in the weird positions I sit in anyway and I don’t have to wear uncomfortable clothes because I’m naked.

Truly another one of those “if it paid a proper living wage you could find someone who really wanted to do it” situations

The teacher I worked with today was really cool and sounds like he’s going to fight the system directly to get more hours for me. So that’s nice. I dunno it’s just nice to be around art all the time. It makes me really happy to just sit like a little gremlin and listen to twelve people scratch charcoal on paper.

[nervousimposter]

Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read. 

I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. 

He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch. 

Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes. 

I wish I was as brave as you.

Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.

God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.

I like how long your hair is getting. 

Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. 

They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets. 

I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?

I dream about us. 

I’m a boy. I’m sorry.

I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else. 

I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.

I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think. 

I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you. 

You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.

I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.

The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper. 

Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best! 

And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial. 

Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.  

He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner. 

Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.

He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?

Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx

[leaderwonim]

i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. )

based on this edit !!

pairing. troublemaker!nishimura riki x goody-two-shoes!fem!reader

summary. nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him

warnings. cursing, smoking, riki destroys someone’s private property 😭, riki is your typical teenage dirtbag, he also calls her sweets

“Hey.”

Nishimura Riki slides onto the seat right next to yours, blinking twice as much as he should be. You knew it was one of his teasing habits, meant to make you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“What do you want Nishimura?”

He puts his hand over his chest, pretending he’s wounded by your words. “Nishimura? We’re on last name basis sweets?”

“Shut up,” you say, pushing his face away with your index finger. “I have exams to study for.”

“Let me see.” He ignores your protests, flipping your textbook to his side as he eyes the papers. “Ew, mathematics? You’re a bigger nerd than I thought sweets.”

“Don’t call me sweets.” You say, sticking out your tongue in annoyance. “And get out of here.”

He lifts both hands in surrender, “alright, alright, I’ll leave sweets. Gotta meet Jungwon anyways.”

You thank whoever above was listening to your pleas of making Riki leave. Turning around to face the desk he was in, you realize he hadn’t pushed in his chair.

“Nishimura!” You groan out loud, pushing it in with your foot. This earns you a shush from the librarian, which only fuels your hatred towards the Japanese boy.

.♡.

“Y/N! Is that you?” There was Nishimura Riki’s annoying voice again, the one voice that you dread to hear everytime you entered school.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy other people?” You ask, face clearly unimpressed.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed.”

You glare at Jungwon’s unneeded input in the conversation, which makes him snicker and look away.

“You guys are ditching again?”

Riki and Jungwon shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course the two were ditching, why did you even ask?

“We were gonna stop by the cigarette shop and get a pack or two.”

Jungwon elbows Riki, as if he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.

“What? We can trust Y/N, isn’t that right sweets?”

“You still call her sweets?” Jungwon groans. “Gross dude. Let’s go.”

Jungwon starts walking, Riki closely following behind him. Just before they exit the school corridors, the boy throws you a wink, one that you roll your eyes at.

“You’ll love me one day sweets!” He shouts.

“In your dreams Nishimura!”

.♡.

It seemed like nothing was going your way. The next week had approached and even though it was barely Monday, your teachers decided it was a good idea to assign a bunch of exams on the same day.

With quivering hands, you tried not to get the tears that were currently coming out of your eyes onto your physics paper, which was marked with a 68.

How on earth did you get a 68? You were so sure you knew the formulas that were needed for the exam, but what was on the test looked completely different from what you expected.

You could barely find it in yourself to walk home, legs practically dragging across the concrete floor as you wipe your tears away with your windbreaker.

“Sweets?”

Although your normal self would snarl at the nickname and the voice it belonged to—you found yourself too tired and miserable to care at this point.

“Riki?”

You wipe your eyes again, vision clearing in enough to make out Riki leaning against one of the large trees a few meters away from the school.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweets?” He takes the cigarette that was currently dangling on his mouth out, squishing the head of it on the dirt floor beside him.

“Are you smoking again? That’s bad for you and you know it.”

“Geez sweets,” he laughs, finally standing up. “You looked like you just bawled your eyes out yet you still have enough energy to lecture me?”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, there she is again.”

Riki makes his way closer to you, head peering down to reach your level.

“Don’t cry.” He says softly, and it’s the first time you heard him in that tone. “Makes your eyes all red and scary.”

“Yah!”

He laughs when you hit him on the shoulder, sound that used to make you frown but you were weirdly enjoying it now.

“I’m kidding sweets!” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “You’re pretty, even when you have tear stains all over you.”

The two of you continue walking, you not too sure where Riki was even taking you.

“Where are we going?” You sniffle, looking around the area.

“This new arcade, cmon, I’ll drive us.”

The two of you are in front of his beaten down Toyota, although it looks pretty clean from the inside. You thought Riki’s car would be an absolute mess, but it seemed like he was a clean freak when you opened the door to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.

“You actually clean your car?”

“I’m offended you thought I didn’t sweets!” He says, frowning. “Thankfully, I don’t hold grudges.”

He puts the key in, hands tapping against his leather seat. “Wanna tell me why you’re so sad?”

He places a hand on the head of your seat, body twisting back with one hand on the wheel to pull out of his parking spot. He looked incredibly handsome doing such a basic task that it almost made your ability to speak go away.

“I got a 68 on my physics test.” You say, shoulders defeated.

“No way.” He continues driving, eyes glancing back and forth from the road to you. “Mr. Yuji’s class right? Fucking hate him.”

“Yeah well, I do too.”

Riki takes a road that you’re unfamiliar with, and he suddenly stops the car in front of a house.

“What are you doing Riki?” You say, watching as he opens his trunk and leaves the car.

“Doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He pulls out a bat, and your eyes widen when he smashes it against a mailbox, crushing it in completely.

“Holy shit!” You shriek, eyes widening as Riki throws back the bat into the trunk, closing it with a loud bang.

He runs back to the car, slamming the door behind him.

“And that’s for Y/N motherfucker!” He yells before driving off, his boyish laughter could be heard from a distance.

“You’re crazy.” You breathe out, body still in shock from what you witnessed. “Who’s mailbox was that?”

“Mr. Yuji’s.” He smirks, eyes still on the road. “Let’s just say—this isn’t the first time I’ve been to his residence.”

“Wow.” You rest your head against Riki’s cold windows, still taking in what just happened. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome sweets.” He smiles, teeth practically shinning like the movies. “Now how about that arcade I promised you earlier?”

.♡.

After hanging out with Riki at the arcade on Monday, you realized the boy wasn’t as bad as you thought.

He had won you a gigantic brown teddy bear, a cliché that you never thought would have happened to you after failing your physics exam.

He made you name it James The Third, and made you promise that it was your child and you had to take care of it while he was away.

“I heard you hung out with Nishimura this weekend!” You swore nothing could go past Byeol, who was currently geeking at the sudden news of you and Riki being so close.

“Shh, keep your voice down!”

Byeol wiggles her eyebrows, giggling at your stressed state. “You two are so cute! Opposites attract!”

You start to walk away from her, using the excuse that class has started. Sure Riki was handsome and weirdly—nice—you weren’t sure what your feelings about him were yet.

“Hi.”

You basically flinch out of your seat when you see him right next to you. He had a can of soy milk and a slice of chocolate cake with him.

“I brought you soy milk, hopefully you like it.”

You give him a small smile, not trusting your words enough to actually speak. Thankfully for you, the teacher entered right after, starting her lesson on trigonometry.

“Nishimura Riki, do you really have to eat in my class?” The teacher stops writing, placing her chalk on the board as she stares directly into Riki’s eyes.

He looks up from the bangs poking at his eyes, giving the teacher a stupid smile.

“Yes Mrs. Park, I’m very hungry.”

“Very well.” She wants to scowl at Riki, you could tell by her furrowed eyebrows. But she doesn’t, instead, picking up her chalk again to continue the lesson.

3 minutes don’t even past when Riki’s chewing gets incredibly loud and obnoxious, making you place a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing.

“Is the chocolate cake that good, Riki?” The teacher asks, trying not to completely snap at the boy.

“It’s sooo good.” Riki says, smiling fully with his teeth.

The class blurts out in laughter and hysteria, making Mrs. Park practically crush the chalk that was in her hand.

“That’s it! Go outside Nishimura Riki!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up from his seat. “Fine, but I was just eating cake.”

He looks over to you, who was currently giggling underneath your breath. He gives you a small smile, flicking your forehead softly before leaving the room, leaving you a blushing mess.

.♡.

“Pssst.”

You turn around, already knowing who was on the other side.

Of course Nishimura Riki was there.

“I’ve got two tickets to see Arctic Monkeys, come with me Friday night?”

You shake your head softly. “Oh I don’t know Riki, I have to study.”

“Don’t say that sweets,” he groans, head slumping into your shoulder. “Have some fun!”

“Shhh!” You look around, thankful the librarian wasn’t here to scold you guys. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Just be quiet.”

“Yay!” He cheers, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen of the boy. “I’ll pick you up, okay? Friday night, 8pm exactly.”

“Okay Riki,” you say. “I’ll see you.”

Friday comes by in a flash, and you weren’t sure what to wear to the concert.

Despite it being your last year of being a teenager, you still haven’t attended one. So you were in a real struggle to pick what would be perfect.

You decided to go with a plain black top and cream colored cargos that hugged your waist, one without straps so your shoulders could be out. You were sure it’d get hot in the concert with all the people that would be attending.

“You look cute.” Riki says as he rows down the window. “Get in.”

The stadium is only 20 minutes away from your house, and you’re starting to get nervous when you realize how many people were attending.

“Hey,” Riki says, taking ahold of your hand when he notices it shaking. “It’ll be the most fun night of your life. I promise.”

And he was right. Although you were sure you weren’t going to enjoy it all that much, you found yourself singing and swaying along to the music.

The stadium was dim, making the music hit even ten times harder.

When I wanna be yours started playing, your vision was focused on the band whereas Riki’s eyes were focused on you.

“Hey!” You giggle, catching him staring at you. “Focus on the music dummy! You’re the one who bought the tickets.”

“Yeah yeah,” he says, smiling ear to ear. “The concert’s great and all but you’re even better.”

You don’t get to question his words before he crashes his lips onto yours with the lyrics wanna be yours blasting in the background.

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 

                            Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 

Oh no. 

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.” 

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” 

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”  

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

            all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,” 

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?” 

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.” 

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

[webslingingslasher]

Unknown Sender

happy valentine's day!

MONDAY: 13:52 

‘hi.’ Peter squints at the message, then the unsaved number. He's not sure how, but it’s a scam. 

‘i’d like to have your attention, please.’ Peter rolls his eyes, swiping left to not only delete but report the number as junk. No doubt it was a bot or someone with a flair for sextortion. 

A new number. ‘that was actually so rude of you, parker.’ 

‘unblock me right now.’ 

Peter shifts in his seat, he does a slow look around the room and finds nothing off putting or alarming. 

‘Who is this?’ 

Green bubbles pop up. ‘unblock me and i’ll tell you.’ Peter was right to guess about extortion. Another swipe, blocked and reported. Peter wasn’t participating in any games. 

A new number. ‘oh, now you’re just being cute.’ 

Peter feels his heart pick up a bit, it’s a tad threatening and now he’s overthinking it a little. What if someone has it out for him? Is there a mark on his back? ‘Please leave me alone.’ 

‘no.’ 

‘can we play 21 questions?’ 

Peter’s face scrunches up, he spins his head around one more time, someone is fucking with him. He has no clue who has time for something like that in university, but he’s not a willing participant anymore, not since high school. 

‘Leave me alone. Go torment a freshman.’ 

‘i don’t like freshmen. i like you.’ Peter chews at his bottom lip, there was a second of hesitancy but he knows the truth deep down. ‘I’m blocking you.’ 

‘sure. i’ll keep texting you, too.’ 

‘I’ll change my number.’ 

‘noooo please don’t do that. i had to work hard enough to get it the first time.’ Peter doesn’t respond. He blocks the number and moves on, and they don’t try to text him again.

Until the next day and Peter knows two things for certain. There is a note in his backpack, and it wasn’t there before his econ lecture. He remembers pulling that pocket open before he started notes, then when he went to zip it up, a note. 

This upsets him. What good was any sense when someone could get that unnoticeably close to him without him knowing? Second, it’s a little frustrating not to know who this person is and how it most likely is connected to the texts he had a few days ago, and that it’s an extremely long played joke that’s mostly boring. 

‘Peter Parker- 

You’ve been secretly admired. It might not be very secret, because I think you’ve caught me staring at you a thousand times. I like you a lot. 

Hopefully liked back, 

-X’ 

But a part of him believes it’s true. He’s trying to think of who’s in his lecture, if he’s caught them staring then they’re either to the side or behind him. There are too many faces, too many times he’s been looked at, he’s almost centered, it’s his fault for choosing a focal point. 

Instead of throwing it away, he refolds the pink handwriting and puts it back into place before hitching a strap over his shoulder and sliding behind chairs. One, two steps up he glances at your face, you have a weak smile, he returns the same kind, it’s more like a polite nod. Peter’s always thought you were pretty and he thinks you're nice. 

But really, he’s wondering who left the note. 

10:30

‘did you get my note?’ Peter does his normal scan across campus, again, his fault for being out in the open. This person could be anywhere, he’s on a picnic bench with a group of friends. If he’s smart, he’d start limiting himself to contained spaces and make you show yourself. 

‘Yeah. Who is this?’ Peter’s thumbs dance around the screen waiting for a reply, it comes quick. ‘i told you. x.’ He stops himself from rolling his eyes, he doesn’t know anyone with an ‘X’ anywhere in their name. 

‘Is that an initial?’ 

‘actually, i’m pretty sure it’s british for kiss.’ 

‘That’s a wild take. Are you saying the UK is responsible for XOXO’s?’ 

‘i’d like to make you responsible for my xoxo’s.’ Peter chews his bottom lip, he won’t play into anything in writing. He doesn’t believe this for a second, everything about this feels off. Someone’s fucking with him and they’re also in his class, or they have someone in on it in his class. 

But this is too advanced.

‘sorry. i don’t mean to like harass you or anything. you’re really hot but you scare me, i don’t think you would like me so idk, maybe if you talk to me you’d like me for me or something.’ 

‘i just think i’m punching wayyyy above my weight class here and i may be making this worse because there is no doubt you think im weird.’ 

‘i am weird. i should leave you alone now. i’m sorry.’ 

Peter reads his screen four times, it’s still not clicking. He’s nothing special and he doesn’t mean that in a way to dog on himself, he’s just nerdy and quiet. It seems a little too authentic to be fake, but he’s got to make sure. 

‘How’d you get my number?’ 

‘your friend. they have been sworn to secrecy but they know what i’m doing and they are in full support. take that as you will.’ 

‘Depends on the friend.’ 

‘i’ll tell you when you find out who i am.’ 

‘I’m going to find out? You’re not going to tell me?’ 

‘i don’t think i’ve been hiding it. you just haven’t been paying attention and now i want you to.’ 

‘Oh, but you’re shy?’ 

‘i’m about to pass out on the lawn behind this fucking screen, don’t play with me parker.’ A slip, you’re around him and you just admitted it. ‘Tell me, admirer, what are you wearing?’ The more detail the better, but he could work off of just a color. 

‘nice try. but you’re looking mighty handsome in the blue.’ A glance down, he suddenly feels watched. ‘Are you stalking me?’ 

‘oh no! no no no. i PROMISE you i’m not that fucking psychotic.’

‘i’m just a “sneak a note into your backpack” level of crazy. i’m here with my roommate and her boyfriend. i saw you and just wanted to know if you got it, i promise.’ 

‘You do understand that this situation makes you seem psychotic, right?’ 

‘yes. but i am not.’ 

‘That sounds like something a crazy person who got my number from a third party would say. Especially after I blocked you six times.’ 

‘it was three and you didn’t understand my intentions but okay. you have a fair point and i extend the olive branch of brett. he gave me your number and he knows me pretty well.’ 

Brett? Easy enough, he nods his head towards him and slides his phone across the table. “Explain.” His friend scrolls through the thread, a trustworthy smile spreads. “Yeah, I gave her your number.” Her. Okay, it’s something. “Who is she?” Brett shrugs, “you know her. She’s kind of a firecracker, you just make her nervous.” 

“That gives me nothing, Brett.” His friend blinks, “she’s not crazy. She likes you a lot for whatever fucking reason and has no idea how to approach you.” Peter’s letting his words soak in, “don’t believe me? Ask her about the grilled cheese, and make sure you tell her that I told you about how she went on for five fucking minutes about the grilled cheese.” 

“What grilled cheese?” Brett slides Peter’s phone back, he’s telling him to ask you. Something tells Peter it’s enough to embarrass, or it might be Brett being the ultimate wingman.

‘I’ve been told to ask you about the grilled cheese.’ 

‘oh god. there is no need to ask about the grilled cheese, did brett tell you about the grilled cheese?’ 

‘He told me to ask you. And to specify that you went on for five minutes about it.’ 

‘five is excessive, it was more like three. second, there is nothing to speak about.’ 

‘I would like to hear about it.’ 

‘i’d prefer if you didn’t.’ 

‘But you’ll do it for me?’ 

‘i’m weak for you and you know it. it’s sicking, parker.’ 

‘i heard you talking about making one in class and you said something about the crust and i really fucking love grilled cheese’s so i had a trip to fantasy land where you made me one and how it’s probably the best thing i’ll never get to taste.’ 

‘Wow. Five whole minutes on that?’ Peter won’t admit it made him feel a little warm on the inside, the most mundane of things to have someone so squirrely makes him feel unworthy. 

‘three.’ 

‘Tell me who you are and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.’ 

‘you have no idea how much that almost worked.’ 

‘What’s the plan then, master manipulator?’ 

‘i don’t know yet. i’m hoping you show me how smart you are and figure me out, then you can do all the hard questions.’ 

‘Hard questions?’ 

‘you know, do you wanna go on a date, do you wanna be my girlfriend, do you want to take my hand in marriage and have a summer home in the french alps? that kind of stuff.’ 

‘Totally not psychotic.’ Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile that wants to spread. 

‘mostly not.’ 

WEDNESDAY: 13:57

Peter doesn’t know who X is, but they’re clever and have zero effect on his sixth sense. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Either way, he’s reading a note scribbled in blue pen and as he studies the words he knows it was rushed. It’s proof that he wasn’t being followed everywhere, instead you saw an empty table and an opportunity. 

‘Peter- 

You use mostly gender neutral pronouns. I think that’s very cool. Is it weird that I notice those things about you? Also- what is it that you’re always drinking from Nuthouse? Asking for a friend… 

Have a good day! 

-Your not so secret admirer, X. 

‘Not so secret,’ Peter isn’t sure about that. You’ve done a good enough job at not trying to be obviously known, he might have looked up your number last night to find dust. One was from an app, but the one you’ve been using is a burner phone. 

What he’s really not understanding is how you’re able to get so close to him without him noticing. You had to have been millimeters away when you rested the letter on his backpack, he was gone for less than two minutes and he had zero awareness. 

Peter folds up the note and sticks it in the same pocket as the other one, his back slung around one shoulder as he moves up the stairs for the library. At the same time, you come down the opposite side, Peter gives a friendly acknowledgement. 

You choke down the lump in your throat. “Hi, Peter.” He’s already past you, it’s echoed behind his shoulder. “Hey.” It’s something. You’re trying, you’re trying to be bold for him. But he’s not going to notice, he’s never going to notice you and if you tell him who you are you’ll never live past his disappointment. 

Your phone vibrates, the other phone. Your heart picks up, Peter texted first. 

 14:02 

‘Dirty chai.’ 

‘best of both worlds. how fitting. you’re such a nonconforming king.’ 

‘I don’t even know what that means.’ 

‘But thank you?’ 

‘you’re welcome!’ 

‘anything fun on the roster today?’ 

‘Roster? Who are you?’ 

‘idk you make me nervous. blame yourself.’ 

‘Well, coach. Nothing fun on the roster, just some math. Wanna swap places with me?’ 

‘gross. i hate math so if you like it that’s good with me. one of us has to be smart and it’s not me.’

‘Smart enough to use a burner phone.’ 

‘oooooh, someone tried to find meeee.’ 

‘Can’t blame a guy for being curious, can you?’ 

‘were you disappointed when you found nothing?’ 

‘A little bit. But, you know, it keeps the imagination alive. A little unfair advantage on your side though, you already know what I look like.’ 

‘if it helps, you already know what i look like too.’ 

‘I do?’ 

‘yeah. we’ve talked before.’ 

‘Wait, so I know who you are?’ Brett said he did but Peter thought he meant you’d be familiar, not that he actually knew you. This just opened the floodgates to a million more possibilities. 

‘not really but yeah i guess. you know i exist but we’re not friends or anything.’ 

‘I’d like to think we’re friends, but okay.’ 

‘not outside the texting.’ 

‘That’s your decision.’ 

‘HATER.’ 

‘Anymore hints?’ 

‘.... no.’ 

‘HATER.’ 

FRIDAY: 12:15

You’re about to spill hot tea everywhere but it’ll be worth it to see his face. You ignore your pounding heart and stand in front of him. He’s got no clue you showed up, zoned out looking at the clock on the wall across from him. 

“Hi, Peter.” 

Full frontal attention, he’s looking at you. He’s perceiving you, he’s smiling at you. “Hi,” your eyes expand, he knows your name and it sounds so nice coming from his mouth. Sure, you’ve chatted with each other- even shared a few highlighters, but nothing serious. You’ve always been too scared to try anything else but maybe your fear has been mistaken for indifference. 

“I um, I lucked out today at Nuthouse so if you like dirty chai’s I got an extra one.” Your knees feel weak at his bright eyes, “my favorite. I’d love one, thank you.” You pass over the paper cup, your fingers brush and you think you’re about to collapse. 

“Yeah,” a weak laugh. “I had a feeling.” Peter tilts his head at you funny, you wonder if you pushed a little too far. “Okay, um, I’m gonna… have a good… lecture.” Peter nods and watches you go two rows up, he’s finally got a gut feeling. And it tells him to keep an eye out for you. 

TUESDAY: 12:10

Not that Peter was reliant on your attention, he was used to it. So when the texts stopped for three days and he was unable to find any letters he assumed you had lost interest and moved on. That felt fair to him, no harm no foul, at least he never really got to know you. 

Nevermind, there’s a folded notebook page on his miniature desk and his heart speeds up. His next task, put eyes on you. Bottom level, book and pencil in hand. He makes sure to note it’s a pencil and not the green ink that’s spread across the page. 

Peter thinks it’s a mind game, you were smart enough to know he’d look. Unless he was totally wrong on his guess. 

‘Peter- 

I ran out of minutes on my phone and I’m having a broke college kid moment. However, a friend took pity and donated a twenty to the campaign. I hope you’ve been good- I’ve missed talking to you. 

- Your not so secret admirer, X’ 

ps. stop keeping your backpack so close to you.’

It wasn’t anything personal, you just ran out of minutes. Peter smiles so wide he has to drop it, he almost clutches the paper to his chest in a thank you. Eyeing his backpack, he nudges it a little further behind him, following instruction. He’s kept it close in hopes to catch you, but instead he’s pushing you away. 

Peter’s committing the writing to memory as if he’s going to find you by the handwriting alone. A quick glance at footsteps, you’re three steps away when you smile. “Hi, Peter.” He nods, “hey.” You pause for a moment, mind racing for words. 

“Did you, um- did you do anything fun this weekend?” You’re about to crawl into a hole and die, it takes a moment to click that you were speaking to him. He went as far to look behind himself, then he spewed the answer to try and make up for the lost time. 

“Oh, uh not really. My aunt got a new bed so I had to lug the old one down seven flights of stairs.” Your eyes widen, you feel your mouth go dry and your tongue go thick. “By yourself?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, a boyish grin swept over and you feel heart eyes form. 

“I’m a good nephew.” You want to pat his head and tell him you’re sure he is, then maybe hold him at gunpoint and tell you more stories about how he’s a perfect humanitarian. But you act like a normal human and smile back, “you sound like it.” 

Peter thanks you and you return to your seat with wobbly knees and a weak stomach, it’s silent torture to tease yourself like this with him. But you can’t help it and it’s only in effort to go after what you want. Even if it blows up when he figures out who you are. 

12:13

‘you’re looking mighty handsome today, mr. parker.’ 

‘I’m wearing a hoodie, but thank you.’ 

‘i said what i said.’ 

Boldly, ‘i see someone had another dirty chai. can’t stay away from them, can you?’ 

Another tick in Peter's stomach, he almost looks behind his shoulder at you, but he doesn’t. ‘It was a generous donation from a classmate.’ 

‘oh? pray tell, peter. pray tell.’ 

‘What? You don’t have a clue about who gave it to me?’ 

You swallow thickly, before you could get something out he sent another message. ‘No chance you didn’t see it go down?’ 

‘how could i? I was still on my way.’ 

‘... or was i?’ 

‘Tell you what, X. It one of the best teas I’ve had in a while.’ 

And you’d be damned if that didn’t make your entire chest flutter. 

FRIDAY: 15:29

“Here,” Peter’s hand clasped over the paper slapped into his chest. A hint of a syllable, Brett cuts himself off. “She asked me to give this to you.” Peter quickly read it and stared down before confiding in his friend for a second. 

‘Peter- 

Roses are red, violets are blue, all that I think about is you. 

It’s sweet in a cringy way, right? Boo on you for skipping class today, if you want, I could get you some notes. 

I hope I’ll see you Tuesday. 

-Your (really) not so secret admirer, X

ps. A pen exploded in my pocket. 10/10 chance my thigh will be stained.’

“I think I might know who it is.” 

“Uh, huh.” 

“But, she’s way out of my league.” 

“Correct.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “so it’s her?” He clarified with your name, Brett shrugged back. 

“I won’t be confirming or denying.” Peter knows what that means, “the lack of a no usually means yes.” 

“Bro,” Peter starts sputtering, “oh, c’mon! You know what I meant, I just meant that, I just- c’mon, Brett. Is it her?” 

“I have no idea who that is.” Peter wants to call bullshit, he has a gut feeling and he swears it’s you. You’re right, it’s not so secret. In fact, you’re painfully obvious. 

FRIDAY: 23:14 

‘you are soooooooo cute’ 

‘like your hair is so cute’ 

‘i looooove curly hair on guys and you have that!!!!!!!!!’ 

‘and you’re really funny cause like it’s so quick and witty like you have such good one liners’ 

‘also you’re really fucking hot and i KNOW you’re hiding something under those fucking sweaters and the second i see skin i WILL go feral.’ 

‘Something tells me you’re at the Kappa party.’ Peter’s pretending he doesn’t have a searing blush. If he’s got an inkling this could be you… then he might have proof for the non-believers that god exists. 

‘yes!!! are you here?? i should come see you.’ 

‘I hate to disappoint you, but I’m currently at a friend's house playing a Mario Kart drinking game.’ 

“But it’s nice to know that you’d give me your identity that quick.’ 

‘oh i can tell you who i am.’ Peter frowns at the text, he’s been doing nothing but crave the answer to who’s behind the love letters but it feels wrong. It’s not satisfactory enough for him, it’s also not what you want, you’re just drunk- and Peter’s going out on a limb here- horny. 

‘Save it for later.’ 

‘And maybe drink some water.’ 

‘i’d do anything for you cause you have the world's prettiest brown eyes’

‘Thank you for the compliments.’ 

‘you’re super welcome i try to hold them back because i’m a good girl but you’re just so cute i had to let you know’ 

‘I think you’re going to super regret this in the morning.’ 

‘false. maybe fact idk’

‘i should trust you tho because you’re super smart and you’re a nerd.’ 

‘I fear this is taking a turn for the worse.’ 

‘and that is so fucking HOT’

‘Oh. Back to compliments. Thank you.’ 

‘if you were here i’d give you a kiss’

‘IGNORE THAT!!!!’

‘I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT!!!! IGNORE IT’ 

‘Not ignored. How cute.’ 

‘screaming crying throwing up’ 

‘i really didn’t mean to send that it was a joke ha ha funny.’ 

‘Idk, sounded authentic to me.’ 

‘peter?’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘i’m a little drunk rn. and you should know how cute you are.’ 

‘Oh, I’m talking about record breaking levels of regret. This is amazing.’ 

‘i have to pee but i do not reget this!!!!!!’ 

SATURDAY: 09:54

‘i stand by my claim and do not regret a thing.’ 

‘correction. i regret this hangover and the way my previous texts are not very cool girl of me.’ 

‘but i would like to know if you won mario last night.’

‘also, who’s ur fav character?’ 

11:12

1. Proud of you for owning it, that’s very cool girl of you. 

2. I did not win. 

3. Petey Piranha. 

‘who tf is petey piranha.’

‘Mario Kart Sunshine. Came out in 2002. (Originally on GameCube but recently released on switch.) (Hell yeah.)’ 

Your heart thumps, he’s such a nerd and you wanna kiss the air out of his lungs. ‘out of all the characters and u choose him. why petey piranha’ 

‘One guess.’ 

‘PETEY PIRANHA.’ 

‘OH MY GOD.’ 

‘you’re petey piranha <333’ 

Peter fights a grin, ‘I am.’ 

‘you’re so cute. i love that.’ 

‘Personally, in the past 24 hours I don’t think I’ve heard enough about how cute I am.’

‘you’re insufferable and it’s sexy.’ 

‘Oo, new one to the mix. You’re making me blush.’ You really are. He’s never been considered sexy before and it feels really nice. 

‘and i bet you look super cute.’ 

‘Super true.’ 

TUESDAY: 12:34

‘white t shirt white t shirt white t shirt WHITE T SHIRT.’ 

‘You like?’ 

‘i’m about to cry i’m biting my fist so fucking hard.’ 

‘:)’ 

‘you’re so ubuibabeyia.’ 

‘Bless you.’ 

‘?’ 

‘Sorry, I assumed you sneezed.’ Peter never whipped his head around so fast at an audible laugh behind him. It was short, it had escaped without being thought about. He’s looking for you, but it doesn’t seem like it was you who laughed. You’re engrossed in chatting to your neighbor. 

On the other hand, you almost blew it by clasping your hands over your mouth. Instead you looked next to you and said, directly and with a burning gaze, “I need you to pretend we’ve been talking this whole time.” 

‘Someone’s losing their edge, you’re just begging to be caught.’ 

‘oh, i’m begging all right.’ 

‘can you hear me whimpering too?’ 

‘Easy, killer. Let’s not start sexting at noon on a Tuesday.’ 

‘are you saying there is a time for it?’ 

‘Give me a little wave and we’ll see.’ 

‘too late, i’m passed out on the floor. the only thing that can resuscitate me are those thick arms wrapped around me.’ 

‘Let these strong arms sweep you off your feet, all you gotta do is come talk to me after lecture…’ 

Peter says that, but he doesn’t mean it. He’ll definitely eat his words when he sees it’s you, then he’d be coming up with a thousand ways to back out of it. He’s so much more than you deserve, you feel so safe behind a keyboard but in person you can barely say a sentence. 

It’s stupid and a little humbling because you’ve never felt this way about a guy before. 

‘trust me, i’m better in your imagination.’ 

WEDNESDAY: 14:22

‘Peter- 

You know a little about a lot and I think that is one of my favorite things about you. Or maybe it’s your voice. I could listen to you talk forever. 

-Your not so secret admirer, X’ 

A note under his textbook, if he follows his hunch then he’d be looking for… you. Conveniently three tables away and to the right of his own, you’re not looking for his reaction, you’ve got your focus on your own textbook but he swears you’re retaining none of it. It’s a distraction, or maybe it’s a diversion. 

Peter doesn’t mind. He’s going to wait. He has all the time in the world today and he’s going to sit here with his eyes on you until you look up at him because he knows you’re going to and once you do, he’s going to have his answer. 

If he’s right, and he swears he is, he’s going to absolutely lose is shit because what do you mean you like him and are intimidated? You boldly lied when you said you were punching above your weight class. Does it make him a jerk to say he wasn’t even thinking of you as a suitor and maybe a girl with a much more average look?

 Peter counted to sixty twice, you glance up, eyes shooting to the note you left on the table. The next stop, Peter’s face. And oh, you were not prepared to have him looking right back. Panic, you shoot a wave, a desperate attempt to pretend you’re seeing a familiar face. 

Peter waves back but he looks much more satisfied than you did, you wonder if the jig is up. Did he crack the code? Was he just trying to find a friendly way to let you down? Deny til death, he has no proof it’s you. You pack your things up, a hurried scramble before you could lose your cool. 

On the way out you almost stop breathing, your forearm caught in Peter’s hand. You’re staring down at it, he’s not removing it. It burns in the best way. “Hey,” you wait, you can’t stop looking at his hand, the muscle, the subtle flex, his fingertips paler to show his grip. “Hi, Peter.” 

It’s breathless, you think you’re about to die. If he asks, you don’t know how you’ll lie your way out. 

Guess who’s got a stained pocket? The corner edge darkened with black ink that would never be washed out. Peter has his answer. You’re her. You’re X. “Thanks again for the tea.” 

 Maybe you wanted more, you feel a bit deflated when it’s all you receive.

“You’re welcome.” Your arm feels cold when he drops his touch, you linger for a second too long, you’re not sure when you’ll be this brave again. It was too much of a close call. “I hope the rest of your day is good.” 

Peter’s got a charismatic grin, he feels settled now that he knows you’re the anonymous lover in his life. Even more so when you find yourself shy and reserved in person, it almost makes him giggle to think of the stark changes in confidence.

“You too.” Your body engulfs into flames when your arm is caught again, you’re struggling to keep calm at his boyish smile. “Quick question,” you nod slightly, trying to show zero paranoia for the following words. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” 

Short circuiting. You see black spots, you think you’re about to pass out. There is only one thing that means, no guy asks that if they weren’t interested in changing that, right? 

“No.” It’s anything but graceful. It sounds like you’ve never had a boyfriend before. It makes you sound like you’re scared he asked it. 

But, Peter doesn’t take it like that. He smiles wider, like he already knew the answer before he asked it.

THURSDAY: 16:37

A new letter, stuffed under the top handle of his backpack. Peter listened and stopped setting it next to him, in return he was rewarded. He can’t stop the small smile, you make it involuntary at this point. Peter’s never felt so special in his life, a little part of him wants this to never end. But he’d much rather look you in the eyes. 

‘Peter- 

I had a dream with you in it last night. Don’t worry, you had your clothes on. I’m not sure what we were doing but you were across from me at a diner and we were sitting in those super thick booths and our friends were there. 

I don’t know who these friends were, and I don’t think you do either. But I knew them as our friends. 

It felt really nice. I’m happy to know you, even if I just get this little piece. 

-Your not so secret admirer, X’

Peter’s been wrong a lot in his life but this time he really thinks he has it figured out. He’s much more bold now, this letter tells him it’s not infatuation, it’s love. 

You love him and he thinks he could love you too. 

FRIDAY: 20:08

‘Hey.’ Peter could be making the worst decision of his life here, he could be reading everything wrong and ruining this for himself. 

‘hi peter!’ But he really thinks he’s got it right.  

‘I really, really liked talking to you for the past few weeks but I think I should tell you that I like someone else.’ 

Gut wrenching despair. You knew it was too good to last, you knew he’d find someone more in his league. Someone who’d be willing to show him their face. There was no reason to respond because what would you say to that? 

‘thank you for letting me know that opening up to you was all for nothing!’ 

‘thanks for making me doubt love!’ 

‘hope you and her are so fucking happy together!!!!!’ 

Fuck it all and fuck Peter. He just liked the attention until it came from somewhere else. You don’t think you like him all that much anymore. You think you’re lying, too. Before you can give into the desire of hurting him just as bad, you calmly turn the phone off and stuff it in the back of a desk drawer to never be uncovered again. 

You slowly sit in bed and tug the blankets over your head. And only then, do you allow yourself to sob. 

Peter chewed on his bottom lip and waited an hour with constant phone checks before he realized a response was never coming. It really set in during the weekend but even further when he got no note or letter on monday. Not even when he left his backpack unattended for five minutes. 

TUESDAY -he was able to see you and how you avoided his eyes. How you pretended you didn’t see him send a small wave. How you had pulled back from him. 

And if he hadn’t hurt your feelings, or X’s feelings, why would you do that? 

You look up at a two fingered knock at the corner of your desk. “Hi.” You blink and ignore the white noise buzzing in your ears at the sight of Peter standing in front of you. “Hi, Peter.” 

“How was your weekend?” Bitter. Terrible. Lonely.

“Fine. Nothing exciting.” Besides you breaking my heart. 

Watching his fingertips dance on the edge of the plastic, you feel everything in you brighten. “You look sad.” There’s a burn in your stomach, he’s the reason for both the sting and the sadness. 

“Do you need something? Or are you just doing a friendly check in?” Peter bites back the grin when you snap at him, he’s so, so, so right and it feels so, so, so good. “Neither. I’m just confirming my suspicions.” 

“Suspicions?” 

“Yeah. You passed.” Your eyebrows furrow, before you could try to question further Peter was giving half a wave, saying bye, and skipping a step to his aisle. 

FRIDAY: 12:08

You stop breathing for a solid second before feeling your brain spark back to life. It could be anything, it could be from anyone, but you know there’s only one person who would’ve left a note on your desk. 

Your fingers slightly shake when you unfold the graph paper, little squares bled through with black sharpie. 

‘X-

Am I right?

Hopefully, 

-  Peter’ 

You can’t breathe, you can’t talk, you can’t move and you definitely can fucking not look at him. No, no, no. You can feel his eyes on you, you know he’s watching for your reaction. Peter figured you out and had his own fun along the way. 

You were the girl he liked. Oh, wow. Is this how special you’ve made him feel? Something just for your eyes, from him. A secret you both shared between lines. 

You spin and swear you can feel his gaze running over your back, he’s aching for the answer. You almost scream at a tap on your shoulder, a peek lets you know it’s the person you’re hiding from. 

Another note, folded up just like the other one. It’s pushed into your hand, Peter doesn’t say a word, he just offers and leaves. He’s not watching this time, he’s sitting and focused on the front, you feel air leak back into your lungs. 

Full on panic shaking, you’re so happy he’s not watching. 

Your name is addressed on the front, just like you do for him. 

‘I like you. 

I think you not so secretly like me too. 

We could talk more about it at dinner tonight. Will you let me take you out?

Circle yes or no. 

- Peter.

PS. XOXOXO now you’re responsible for mine, too.’ 

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

Sukuna one shot

inspired by @rinhaler’s plug sukuna that has been living in my brain rent free

mdni 18+

cw: age gap, oral (f and m), face fucking, hickeys, daddy kink, praise kink (way too many ‘princess’s) , hint of possessiveness at the end

Everyone when they’re first on their new college campus feels like hot shit. And you’re no exception. You graduated high school with a 4.0 moved away from your home town and broke up with your boyfriend so you could have fun.

You show up to your first day of astronomy class, a stupid course you have to take as a liberal arts college even though you’re a business major. You thought it would just be freshmen in your introductory core classes, but oh you couldn’t have been more wrong.

You sit towards the back of the class, not too far back that you won’t seem like you’re not paying attention, but not close enough for you to seem like you’re trying too hard. You got there about 5 minutes before class started to be punctual but a lot of the seats were taken. You took out your notebook, pen, and the syllabus the professor emailed you ahead of time to have printed out.

Within the last 60 seconds before class started one particular student walked in. He had to have been a senior, or even a fifth year, with tattoos, pink hair, and a not-too-excited to be there expression. Just your luck, the last seat available was to your left which was like awkwardly close between the wall and your seat. He looks at you and raises his eyebrows as if saying “hey” in a fuck boy way. You can’t help but look at the way his red tshirt hugs his biceps as he pulls out the chair and sits down. He doesn’t attempt to take anything out of his book bag, and you think to yourself ‘there’s no way this man is a freshman’.

The attendance sheet gets passed around and you sign your name and pass the paper over to him. Of course he doesn’t have a pen or pencil so you clear your throat to offer yours to him. He says “thanks,” under his breath not making eye contact but taking special consideration to look at your name written above his.

This professor is pretty annoying and asking people questions off the syllabus so you decide to be nice and place yours between the two of you. He finally makes eye contact with you and you smile, like a little naive freshman that you are. God, dressed all nice for your first day of class wearing that cute little dress he would love to just ruin you. You watch his eyes go up and down your body and you just sit there and take it. Watching his Adams apple bob as he swallows. The sexual tension is thick, and you don’t even know his name. But you know that you want him, regardless of his age or grade or how little he cares about school.

Class was soon over and you found yourself looking forward to the next time you had class with him, as it was a Monday Wednesday Friday class.

Wednesday you get there just a little bit earlier and grab the same seat but you don’t get your hopes up that pink hair-big bicep-mystery man will sit next to you again. As you’re unloading your things out of your book bag you hear someone sit down next to you. You look up to see the same guy from the first day of class with a book bag this time, sitting down in the same spot.

“Hey!” You decide to speak up with a blush on your cheeks.

“Hi,” he says quietly wondering why you are talking to him.

“I’m y/n, I just wanted to introduce myself if were going to sit next to each other!” You say a little to enthusiastically.

“Are you a freshman? Most people don’t do this kinda shit.” He says smirking at you and you can’t tell if he’s being a dick or flirting.

“Uhh yeah. I just wanted to make a friend in this class, sorry for bothering.”

“Not bothering me Princess, just giving you a hard time. I’m Sukuna.” You blush at the pet name he calls you and he makes a mental note to call you that when he fucks you over the desk eventually.

“Nice to meet you, maybe we can study together some time once we actually learn new materials?”

He raises his eyebrows at you smirking, “Sure. How about I get your number then?” You write your phone number on a corner of your notebook paper and rip it off and hand it to him.

“Cute handwriting.” He says as he slips it into his pocket. And that was all for your interaction the second day.

On Friday you both happen to walk into class together and smile at each other.

“You didn’t text me.”

“So needy,” he smirks at you as you settle into your regular seats. “My frat is having a party tonight, do you and your friends want to come?”

Oh god your first college party and you’re getting invited by this guy?

“Yeah that sounds great, will you actually text me the details though?” Pulling out your best flirty-ness.

“Sure princess.” He says pulling out his phone. You see your name saved as “ y/n - astronomy 🥵” and pretend you didn’t. He sends a text with the address of the party and class gets started for the day. You decide to walk out of class together and small talk about how boring the professor is. He suddenly interrupts you -

“Hey would you be interested in showing up early to my house to pregame for the party? Ya know just cause you probably don’t have a fake ID yet and don’t have any alcohol.. and stuff.” He scratches the back of his neck.. is he.. nervous?!

“That sounds fun yeah sure.”

“My little brother will be there. He’s also a freshman so maybe you guys can be friends.”

“Yeah I haven’t really made a ton of friends yet so that would be sick.”

—

Later that evening you head out of your dorm around 8 o’clock. You’re wearing a frilly crop top and a tight light denim skirt with cute platform white sneakers. You shaved your whole body in anticipation and decided you’re going to walk the few blocks to Sukunas house. You show up around 8:30 and sweetly knock on the door. A smaller more kind looking version of Sukuna opens the door. The same pink hair but no tattoos, less muscle, and a friendlier smile. Almost the exact opposite.

“Hi! Are you Sukuna’s friend?”

“Yeah I guess that’s one way to put it, yeah,” you laugh nervously, “I’m y/n”

“Welcome in I’m Yuji. He’s in his room if you want to go up. It’s the first door on the right.”

You thank Yuji and start going up the stair. You feel so nervous like a little high schooler as you get closer to the door. Like there are a thousand butterflies between your stomach and your pussy that can’t wait to see him. You knock gently on the door and hear a muffled “come in” and turn the door knob.

You see Sukuna sitting on his futon shirtless rolling up a joint on his little coffee table. “Hey princess,” he mumbles not looking up from his work in progress as you walk in and sit on his bed adjacent to his futon. As he finishes rolling he smiles up at you. You feel a little awkward sitting here as you’ve only seen him a few times and know nothing about him.

“Do you smoke?” He asks knocking you out of your thoughts.

“I haven’t ever tried but I’m willing to” you say all too innocently back.

“Hmm okay we’ll I guess you came to the right guy.” He motions for you to come sit next to him on the little futon couch he has and lights up. He hits the joint a few times and passes it to you once you look confident enough. You hold it in between your pointer finger and thumb and inhale and exhale just like sukuna did. “That’a girl” he says as his hand finds a home resting on your exposed thigh. You squint your eyes and smile at him.

Sukuna calls for Yuji to come upstairs and a few seconds later the cute brother opens the door to the bedroom. “You wan some of this?” He asks the younger brother and sticks out his hand with the joint in it. “I don’t want to finish it all and sweetheart here has never smoked so I don’t want her to do too much.” Yuji sits where you were on the bed taking a huge rip of the joint and your eyes widen at his lung capacity.

“I’ve done it too much. Maybe some day you’ll have a tolerance like us.” Yugi says with kind eyes. You notice him look down to where his brothers hand rests on your thigh.

“So how’d you guys meet?” Yuji asks smiling only looking at you.

“We have astronomy together,” you smile back before Sukuna could retort some smart ass answer.

“Hey Yuji, can you go get stuff ready downstairs for the party? Mhm thanks” Sukuna says and shoos his younger brother out of the room before he can get another word in.

He smoothly walks back over to the couch you’re sitting on, putting a piece of hair behind your ear. “Princess will you let me try something with you?”

“Mmhmm sure what is it?” you bat your eyelashes at him.

There’s only a little bit of the joint left and Sukuna takes a large rip of it, as he sits back down next to you. His left hand moves to your jaw, his thumb i opening your mouth as he leans in to kiss you. Oh god you’ve seen this at parties before but never done it. As he opens his mouth against yours you inhale, trying your best to impress him. He backs his lips off yours just enough for you to exhale the remaining smoke.

“Gooood girl,” he mutters looking into your red eyes. His lips collide with yours again, passionately. You can hardly even think straight he is dominating you even just kissing. His tongue slips past your lips and makes it way through your mouth. You hear people talking downstairs now as it’s about 9 pm but neither of you could care. His lips continue their assault on your jaw to your ear, down your neck. Pecking, licking, assaulting your tanned skin that smells like innocent girl perfume and a cute little necklace that you probably got from a high school boyfriend, sukuna thinks.

Without warning he pulls down your top, exposing your bare chest without a bra. “Hm a little risqué? Maybe not quite the good girl that you act like?” He smirks up at you before taking one of your hardened nipples in his mouth. He uses his other hand to run the other, twisting and twirling it in between his thumb and pointer finger, the same ones he was just holding the joint with. You can’t help but let out a little moan and roll your eyes back at the feeling. You run a hand through his hair, spreading your legs with your skirt on so we can see your panties. There’s a little wet patch that’s growing on the white lace that he so desperately wants to tear to shreds. He starts trailing down kisses from your cute nipples down your still covered stomach.

You try to reach down to rub the growing bulge in his pants, being so greedy and horny. “No,” he responds grabbing your wrist and moving your arm back up by your head. You’re confused but don’t care as long as you get touched soon. Just then sukuna tugs your soft lace panties down your legs, admiring them before stuffing them in his pocket. You produce a slight gasp at his actions but try to be patient for what he’ll do next. You feel the cold air of Sukunas bedroom against your newly exposed delicate cunt. He bends down to start leaving messy kisses around your inner thighs and pubic area. He teases you getting close to licking up your folds but ultimately enjoys watching you writhe in how turned on you are.

“Please” you whimper looking down at him, trying to give your best puppy eyes

“Please what?” He asks before placing a gentle kiss on your clit.

“Please S’kuna” your voice cracks you are begging and whining for him so much, looking like you are about to cry.

He latches his mouth around your clit, sticking his thumb inside your warm hole. “fine” he mumbles as if he isn’t about to give you the most life changing head you’ve ever had. Sukuna thinks you look like a portrait of a goddess, your cute skirt bunched up at your hips, pussy out, and shirt pulled down exposing your tits, the way your mouth makes a perfect “O” while your eyes scrunch shut.

You let out something between a deep breath and a moan a few times before Sukuna stops licking your cute button. He waits for you to open your eyes to look at him “louder f’r me”. He takes his thumb out of you, holding it up to your face for you to lick clean. You use your tongue to swirl around his thumb, sucking on it like your life depends on it. He pulls away once he is satisfied and hears you whimper “thank you” quietly.

“Pretty girl, did you just thank me for tasting your juices on my finger?” Your face heats up getting redder each word he says. “I didn’t know you were so obedient…good to know” he says almost to himself instead of you. He switches to use his ring and middle finger inside you, lapping around your hole and clit fucking his hand into so quickly you can’t help but let out a loud moan. At your reaction he moves his free hand down to palm his erection through his pants.

By this time the music is bumping pretty loud downstairs and you assume no one can hear you. Sukuna seems to enjoy eating your pussy just as much as you’re liking it, muttering to himself while licking at you things like “pretty little freshman pussy” and “begging for me since the first day of class”. Your legs start to close as you feel yourself getting closer to your high, but his pumping into you doesn’t slow. He now uses one hand to finger you and the thumb of the other hand to rub your clit, spitting on it. He wants to watch you cum for him. He wants to see every second and can’t risk getting carried away tasting your cunt.

You reach to grab some of his pink hair, begging for release. “C’mon princess you can do it”, “cum for me”, and “goood girl” he groans as you begin arching your back off the sofa. His fingers are reaching a place yours never could and you begin seeing spots and close your eyes again. Your ab muscles flex and you start pulsing on his fingers. He slows down his pace once you start your orgasm, rolling his eyes back and groaning when he hears you moan “Sukunaaaaa” loud enough that anyone on the upstairs floor could hear it.

He stands up and cleans his fingers off in his mouth and wipes them off on a tshirt that was on his bed which he proceeds to now put on (yeah he was shirtless that whole time). He walks back over to help you up, pulling your top up to cover your tits, just barely, and pulling your skirt down to where it belongs but he still kept your panties.

As you regain your senses you ask “Is that it? What about you ‘kuna?”

He chuckles a bit mocking you “‘is that it?!’ Was that not enough? Sorry but you have to earn more.”

“No” you groan walking up to him, “I meant ‘is that it’ as in ‘are you going to let me take care of your massive bulge?’”

He kisses your forehead then responds, “hmm sure princess were already late for the party night as well.

You willingly get down on your knees right in front of him like he is your king. Maybe that’s why he calls you princess so much. He uses his clean thumb to wipe off a little bit of smudged makeup under your eye “so pretty on your knees…” he starts unbuttoning and zippering his pants, “might actually have to keep you around.”

You don’t even react to what he’s saying as he pulls his pants and underwear down revealing a massive cock. Larger than the average man for sure, but also a pretty color and the perfect number of veins. You can’t believe he wasn’t in pain keeping an erection that big in his pants. It was going to stretch you out for sureee. Your pupils grow at the sight of him gripping the base of his manhood and and putting one hand behind your head.

You know what this means, you’ve deep throated before but god you’ve never gotten facefucked. Let alone a dick this huge?

He lets you make the first move, opening your mouth and letting his tip fall on your tongue. You taste a tiny bead of his precum and become insatiable for more. Sukuna watches the lust in your eyes grow as you begin licking up and down his shaft.

You then begin to bob up and down, hoping that your head is good enough for him. You can only reach about half of his dick before it starts to go down your throat, but you’re desperately trying to take as much as you can. His hand still gently resting on the back of your head, not testing you yet.

You remove your mouth and look up to the handsome man asking, “daddy, can you help me?”

Sukuna can hardly believe his ears and is taking everything in him not to cum on the spot from hearing your sweet voice call him that. As soon as he realizes what you were asking he responds “sure, princess.” His grip tightening on the back of your neck, using the free hand to slap his cock on your tongue and face. He still doesn’t want to be too rough with you, delicate little freshman. But you did just call him daddy … so …

He begins to use your mouth to fuck his cock, slowly at first making sure you adjust, pushing himself down your throat until you tap his leg for air “mmm good girl you’re mouth is great” he says as you replied your air. As he sticks himself back in again he goes faster this time. Hitting the back of your throat with each stroke but not forcing himself down like the last time. He moves his free hand to grab the front of your throat squeezing so even less air can come through.

Fuck this is turning you on so much you can feel your slick dripping down your leg. Your vision goes a little blurry from lack of oxygen before he releases his hand, still continuing his praise and moans. He lets you breath again for a minute, making you jerk him off while you catch your breath as his head is thrown back “fuck y/n, pretty face, pretty pussy, and a pretty mouth” followed by a grunt/moan. You are determined to make this man cum on your tongue and begin sucking at a faster pace. You feel the tip going down your throat and just let it keep going until you find your nose touching his well trimmed hairs against his pubic bone. You stay there and wiggle your tongue around the part you couldn’t reach before as he looks down at your pretty eyes tearing up. You come back for breath and decide to suck the top and jerk the bottom because you were pretty sure guys liked that too? Sukuna looks down at you moaning “fuck, fuck, fuck” and you watch his hips twitch knowing he is getting close. He pulls your hair a little harder than he means to while you’re finishing him off, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he lets out a last “shit y/n” and releases on your tongue.

He recovers rather quickly compared to you, putting his now soft penis back in his boxers and jeans. He looks up to see you sticking out your tongue with his cum on it. Without warning he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and takes a picture of you with the flash on. “Swallow princess” he tells you after he groans at how sexy the picture turned out.

You both get ready to finally attend the party now around 9:30 with what sounds like lots of people downstairs. Sukunas tries to get you from looking in the mirror so you don’t see the 4 not-so-subtle hickies he gave you. He runs his hands through your hair because it looks like… well it looks like you just had sex. Grabbing your ass under your skirt, still panty-less he opens his bedroom door.

“Be a good girl and I’ll let you come back up here after the party is over” he whispers seductively in your ear.

He lets you go down the stairs first, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you go.

He’s not letting you leave his sight tonight.

—

A/N it took everything in me not to have someone barge in on them like yuji or someone looking for the bathroom. Happy to write a part two or series of these if anyone likes them. Also feel free to leave requests in my inbox. Thank you sweet cheeks 🫶

[ch3rriewine]

Photo Booth Kissin' {P.P.}

summary: Peter's an awkward loverboy, but he's your awkard loverboy.

warnings: none i think just fluff :3, TASM!Peter Parker x reader hehe, no use of y/n, reader is kinda like super girly w the bows and sparkles idk

a/n: I HAVENT WRITTEN IN MONTHS SORRY here tho!

Peter’s life was boring—peaceful, but boring. Don’t get him wrong; being Spiderman is cool and all, but Peter Parker’s life could use some work. The most exciting thing that has happened to him recently was the time he got two yolks in one egg. Riveting stuff, right?

During another one of his literature classes that he doesn’t know why he took, he spots you. With a bow in your hair and a knit sweater falling over your figure, your head propped on your manicured hand while scribbling notes with the other. You sit in front of him and if Peter squints, he can see the small doodles littering the pages. Before he knows it, the professor announces that the lecture is done for the day. Peter panics; he wants to talk to you before you disappear and turn out to be a dream, but what would he even say? Doesn’t matter anymore since he chases after you to the door.

“Hey,” he says, looking a tad flushed after tripping over someone's water bottle.

“Oh, hi” you respond, your eyes a little widened at the sudden interaction.

“I, uh, I’m Peter” he say, sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take it and tell him your name. He repeats it in his head about a hundred times.

“I just, uhm, wanted to ask about…” he trails off, trying to remember if there were any assignments given. “The essay he said we had to do, yeah. When is it due again?” he hopes to any higher being that there was an essay due soon.

“Ah, yeah, it’s due next Monday” you reply, giving him a tight-lipped smile, ready to go back to your dorm.

“Cool, uhm, thanks! See you around, hopefully” with that, he bolts, leaving you confused and flushed. Hopefully

The cute boy in your class wants to see you around.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Two days later, Peter sees you again. It’s in the same class, and you’re as pretty as ever. He psyches himself up to sit next to you.

You look up from your laptop when he asks you if he can sit next to you. You nod, of course, and smile. He looks nervous, with fingers tapping on the table and cheeks a little red. It’s cute.

“Have you started on that essay?” you ask, trying to start conversation since it looks like he won’t.

“Huh? What essay? We have an essay?” he turns to face you, eyes wide.

“Yeah, the one you asked me about?” you laugh a little.

“Oh, no, I didn’t” his shoulders slump back down, and you smile at him.

“I didn’t either; I had other work to finish” he stares at you a little; it’s flattering, really. How shy he is around you. He barely knows you, but he’s convinced himself that you’re the greatest thing ever. He also may have looked up your instagram and fallen even harder as he looked at all your posts. Peter now knows what you ate at Thanksgiving 3 years ago.

“Same, I’m in STEM so you could imagine” he says, resting his head onto the table. Sleep deprivation a thing he is well acquainted with, unfortunately.

“STEM, wow, you must be smart then. Why’re you taking a classic lit class then?” Sure, you might’ve slipped in a compliment; it's not a crime to flirt a little. It takes Peter a few seconds to respond as he processes what you said, you think he’s smart.

“Uh, I was going through a phase with classic lit at the time, and I’ve been lazy to drop it. And, uh, I’m not that smart—pretty average actually. Like the most moderate person ever” He’s rambling and kind of lying. He’s doing really well in his other classes.

“Yeah? I think you’re pretty smart if you’re in STEM. Not everyday a guy is both pretty and smart.” His cheeks turn even redder, if possible, and he makes a sort of out of breath sound. “If you need any help with this class, I’d be happy to give you my notes on the book”

Jesus, you’re gonna kill the poor boy.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

From then on, you sit beside him and throw in some flirty comments while he struggles to reciprocate. It feels too good to be true, how you seem interested in him and how you eagerly talk to him after lectures, even giving hm your number to talk about “class”. He’s waiting for the day you ghost him.

“Hey, would you maybe want to, like, hang out? Like on a date or something? Or just as friends! Actually, yeah, just hang out as friends; forget I said date sorry,“ he flounders, waiting for the rejection. Oh God, he’s just messed up the whole friendship and you’re gonna think that he’s weird and a creep and-

“I’d love to go on a date, Peter,” you smile “I was waiting for you to ask.”

“Oh, great, is Saturday at 3 okay? I’ll meet you outside your building and we could walk to that arcade?” He asks, eyes hopeful.

“Saturday at 3 is great. I love arcades, but you have to help me with the claw machines” For someone so smart and handsome, he doesn’t let himself think people like him.

“See you Saturday, Peter” you tiptoe to kiss his cheek, leaving sticky residue from your sparkly gloss and walk to your next class. He stands in place, a little starstruck and a lot flustered. He leaves the lipgloss there.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Saturday finally comes, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. You’ve switched outfits countless times, your hair is out of place, and your makeup doesn’t seem to flatter you. You’ve settled on a pretty blue dress with tights to protect you from the small chill. Two little bows clipped into your hair and knit cardigan falling over your shoulders—makeup finally looking presentable enough with maybe a little too much glitter on your eyes, but whatever. Your phone chimes as you’re applying pink sparkly gloss, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

You throw your phone and lip gloss in your purse and bolt out the door. You spot him outside your building, as promised. He looks wonderful. Brown sweater and worn-in denim jeans—you can’t believe he’s so shy around you when he looks like that. He finally spots you, and wow, he thinks.

“Hey," he scolds himself for being so casual when he should be whisking you away to Italy, or something. He could’ve at least gotten you flowers.

“Hi, you look great,” you say in front of him, and seeing you up close is making him fall even harder, if possible.

“You look, wow, you’re just, wow” he can’t even believe you’re into him.

“Cmon, I wanna win some plushies,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He grips your hand harder and laces your fingers.

The walk is calm and the air is starting to get cool. You talk about class and a show you started. Peter listens intently, making mental notes about what you like and don’t like. Your hands stay intwined, and his thumb traces patterns on the back of your hand. He’s gotten more comfortable and less panicky in your presence, so you get to see his personality shine through. He’s incredibly funny. You can’t stop laughing on your way there, and he can’t stop thinking of more things to make you laugh.

The arcade is dark, with flashing lights from every game. Peter goes to buy some tokens, refusing your offer to pay half. Grabbing Peter’s hand and making a beeline for the claw machines, everyone knows they’re rigged, but you don’t care. You eagerly take the tokens and attempt to win the Kuromi plushie. After the 5th? 6th attempt? When the claw has dropped the plushie, you give up.

“Why do they do this to people! It’s false hope!” you whine to Peter as he laughs at your pout.

“Lemme try,” he nudges you over and puts in a token.

You watch with eyebrows furrowed as he wins it on his first attempt.

“What the hell, Peter?” you crouch to pull the plushie from the machine.

“What? Do you not like it?” He faces you, examining the stuffed, is she a rabbit? What animal even is Kuromi?

“I love her; just, how did you win it?” You look up at him incredulously. He must have some weird power that makes him win every claw machine.

“Oh, I don’t know; just position it right?” He laughs, his eyes crinkling in the process. You want to smooth them out with your fingers.

“Thank you!” you’re genuinely really excited over a cheap stuffed toy, not because you really wanted it, but because Peter won it for you. You wrap your arms around his neck in thanks. Peter freezes. He fees like a teenager at how he’s reacting to a hug of all things. He snaps back and hugs you back. You pull away to kiss his cheek. This is the second time you’ve kissed his cheek, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever get used to it.

“Lets go play games, pretty boy,” pulling away and leaving Peter to gather his brain and follow along.

You watch as he plays Pac-Man; its silly, but you love his face when he’s focused. Brows furrowed and lips in a thin line. He really is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. And he’s infatuated with you! Of all people! You swear half the girls in the class have a crush on him, but he gets nervous around you. You play some air-hockey, which you won (he let you win), and he won you some more plushies and some candy at the infamous claw machines.

When the games get old, the two of you leave the building. The sun is setting at this point, and you’re dreading leaving him.

“Oh, look! There’s a photo booth!” you point, excitedly tugging on his arm. “We should take some pictures.” you drag him into the booth, both of your thighs squished together and his legs at an awkward angle. He feeds the machine a few bucks, and the screen starts to count down.

You put on a sickly sweet smile, scrunching your eyes while Peter smiles big with pearly white teeth on display. The second photo you lean into Peter and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your body close to his. The third photo, you go for it. You grab his face and kiss him. His hands stay in the air as the glitter on your lips transfers to his. You taste like vanilla. You pull away, a little anxious that he didn’t want it. Those thoughts get pushed away when he grabs the sides of your face and kisses you until you can’t think. His hands are warm and big covering your cheeks as his lips move against yours. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck once more and deepen the kiss. Your lips move together in tandem as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, the movement comforting.

The fourth photo is blurry, and you walk out with all your lipgloss on Peter’s lips.

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 7 [NEW] 18+

a/n: PLEASE READ TO AVOID CONFUSION! i have chosen to push back the Halloween party (previously chapter 7), to chapter 9. i needed a few more interactions to take place to really hold up the events that happen. this is the NEW chapter 7, and next chapter will also be before the Halloween party, then we will be back on track.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to @yonaofyourmom for agreeing to be an editor for me. i cannot thank you enough for your help! and thank you to my Shmeems for proofreading as well!

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter six here ]

Chapter Seven: Of Watching and Submitting

As scheduled, you’re with Chan again on Monday, bright and early, riding to campus together. You’ve made more of an effort to remain cordial with him. Which consists of constantly reminding yourself to not take his behavior towards you personally. You agreed to please him without expecting anything but a roof over your head in return. You can’t assume he will treat you a certain way just because Hyunjin does. They’re different men with different needs. Hyunjin has adapted, in nearly every way, to accommodate for what you need emotionally. Not to say that he’s uninterested in anything physical, but it’s not a driving factor in your budding connection. Chan on the other hand…

The other day in the hot tub, for example. You have not been able to rid yourself of the polarizing emotions you felt. Chan created an onslaught of sexual tension as his hand fiddled between your legs while you simultaneously felt safe and comfortable sitting in Hyunjin’s lap as he kissed your neck. It was fitting and symbolic of your separate relationships with them. The incident has been added to the list of things you’re certain have happened, but Chan doesn’t acknowledge. 

Aside from needing a place to live for the year, your desire for sexual exploration is another reason you didn’t get up off the couch and walk out on interview day with the other girls. Though a threesome had not been on your bingo card, it now consumes your thoughts every time you’re in the same vicinity with both of them. 

“I’ll wait for you after class,” Chan says as he parks the car. 

“For two hours?” you ask. “I’ll just ride back with Seungmin.”

He shuts off the car and turns to look at you.

“You don’t want to be around me or something?”

He doesn’t sound genuinely concerned with the question, or your answer for that matter. He knows you want to be around him, even if it’s just for one thing. But that’s how he wants it, right? 

You purse your lips. 

“I’m currently undecided on that,” you reply with a shrug, hoping it comes off nonchalant. 

“Hm.”

The car is quiet as you both stare at each other. You can practically see when a thought has crossed his mind by the look in his eyes. You expect some sort of retort, but instead he reaches for the door handle. 

“I’ll see you at home then.”

He opens the door and exits the car before you get a chance to respond. You mumble an expletive to yourself as you get out and consider dodging him at home to prove your point. But you’re with him for the next three days and, well, you have the safety of your ass to think about after all. 

____________

When you make it back to the house with Seungmin, everyone is home already. You go upstairs to put your backpack away and as soon as you enter Chan’s room, you see a black gift bag sitting on your bed. It’s a surprise that makes your silly heart flutter. You are suspicious, though. What reason did he have to get you anything? You open the bag and take out the card that’s inside first.

Since you don’t want to be near me. 

Charge it.

You set the card aside and take out the rectangular box. The words ‘Magic Wand’ are written across it, followed by ‘For Her Pleasure’. You open the box to reveal a black vibrator and charging cord. You take the vibrator out of the box to inspect it. Of course, if he was going to get you anything it would be a sex toy. Your first thought is that Chan took your words to heart—was he not going to touch you anymore? No…that couldn’t be it. There was still so much of the school year left with you at his disposal.

You plug in the chord and leave it on the nightstand next to your bed to charge.  

Downstairs, you help Allie start dinner and Changbin says he’s going to help too, but really just ends up loitering in the kitchen to sample everything as you cook. When it’s time to eat, Chan sits at the head of the table and you take a seat somewhere in the middle. You spend most of the meal looking anywhere but him, not wanting to lock eyes with him and be forced to contemplate what’s awaiting you in his room tonight. 

Chan announces that renovations on the den will start next week—it’s being turned into an office space to provide the current and future assignees a dedicated place to do their homework. He also brings up the chapter project again. It’s something the members of SKZ complete each year to showcase and summarize their experiences throughout the year. 

You think back to how passive he was during the Halloween party discussion, and right now he appears the opposite. He was appointed chapter president for a reason, you can see that now. There’s something about the way he addresses everyone that lets even Lee Know and Seungmin—the two that stay ready with smart ass responses to everything—know now is not the time or place. 

Later, after your shower, you return to Chan’s room. He’s in his bathroom, brushing his teeth in nothing but his boxers. You sit on your bed, facing him with your hands in your lap. What would he do if you just crawled beneath the covers to avoid whatever he has in store for you?

No, you wouldn’t do that. You want to know why he purchased that particular item.

The light to the bathroom shuts off and Chan walks over to his desk, just in front of your bed. The light on his ceiling fan is on, illuminating the room. 

“Did you charge it?” He asks.

You look to your nightstand where the vibrator is still plugged in. 

“Yes,” you answer. “You want to use it on me?”

A mischievous smile plays on his lips. 

“Stand up,” he commands. And you do. “Take off your clothes.”

You lift your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. When you reach for your bottoms, he tells you to stop. You pause, thumbs hooked in the waistband of your pajamas. He picks up the chair from his desk and places it on the side of your bed. He sits, one leg bent, the other extended out in front of him. He cocks his head to the side before speaking. 

“Face your bed, then pull them down.”

You turn around and bend over your bed. You pull down your pajama shorts and underwear together, feeling his eyes on you as you expose yourself. You kick them to the side and start to turn around to face him, but he stops you once again.

“Up on your bed,” he says. “Get on all fours.”

You blink at his instructions, but continue to do as you’re told. His dominance is effortless when he wants it to be. Whether he’s with you, or acting as chapter president for the fraternity. His voice is deep and stern when he speaks, leaving no room for a rebuttal–just acceptance.

He stands from the chair and unplugs the vibrator from the charger.

“I wanna watch you use it on yourself.” 

“Chan,” you say, getting into position. “Where do you come up with these things?”

You couldn’t help but ask. From the moment you gave that sarcastic ass answer in the car this morning, he must have started thinking of what he would do to you tonight. He went so far as to buy a vibrator and with you on your bed like this, the chair he brought over…had he been thinking of this all day? Having you on all fours in front of him? You like the thought of that, don’t you? 

He shrugs, “My imagination is limitless when it comes to things I want to do with you, y/n.” 

“Why me?”

“You’re a naturally submissive person.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He holds the vibrator out to you. You shake your head, but he nods his. He wags it in front of you until you take it from him.

“See?”

While submissive is not the adjective you would have chosen to describe yourself, you can see why he could come to that conclusion. You’re gentle, compassionate and value harmony and cooperation above all else. You want all things in your life to flow smoothly, even if that means bending (literally) to someone else’s will. Chan must have spotted that attribute in you a mile away and chosen to exploit it for his pleasure. 

“I don’t even know how to work this.”

He reaches forward and covers your hand with his on the vibrator, guiding your fingers to the power button. You press it and the sound of it buzzing to life fills the room. He guides your hand down between your legs before letting go, wanting you to do the rest. 

You had hardly ever masturbated, let alone done it in front of someone else. You know there’s no use in protesting or saying you’re nervous or shy—he’ll have you do it regardless. He sits back down on the chair, ready for his show. 

You grip the handle tightly and press it against you, jerking at the initial contact. You slide it up and down your slit, trying to focus on the feeling rather than the fact that Chan is staring at you so close and so intently. 

“Find your clit,” he instructs.

You move it back up until it’s settled right against your clit, but instantly pull it away due to the intensity. You take a deep breath and try to clear your thoughts. It feels like an awkward attempt at putting on a sexy show you didn’t sign up for. You press the vibrator to your clit again and close your eyes. 

You think back to the night Chan had you bent over his legs on this very same bed. You think of the way he spanked you, the way he caressed you. You hold yourself steady with one hand as your hips begin to circle against the vibrator. You allow your mind to replay the better parts of that night—sitting on his face, looking down at him, the feeling of power it gave you. 

You spread your knees apart further, lowering yourself on the bed. You hear him shift behind you. You peek over your shoulder to see Chan rest his elbows on his knees, leaning forward a little more. A whimper escapes from your mouth as your hips pick up the pace, grinding against the vibrator held between your legs. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you reply immediately. 

“So you like your present?” You nod and let your head hang between your shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moan. 

You want to turn around, to watch him as he watches you. You stay as he instructed, though, arching your back to poke your ass higher in the air and press the vibrator even harder against your clit. 

“Chan…come…come here,” you plead, feeling that even the short distance between you is too great. 

He leans forward more, his face getting closer to your pussy. You want his mouth on you, or his cock in you. You won’t be picky. You slide back on the bed, trying to get closer to him, letting him know you want him.

“You’re undecided,” he teases, reaching a hand out to hover above your ass. The heat radiating off of him is enough to make it feel like he’s actually touching you. 

“No,” you recant. 

“No?”

His hand palms your ass, gripping it. You moan at his touch, moving back even more towards him. His finger slip between the crack of your ass, down to your opening. Your back curls towards him. He slides his fingers up and down your slit smearing your wetness all around.

Just as his fingers reach your center and you naively think he’s going to enter you, he instead reaches for the vibrator between your legs—snatching it from you. The room falls silent when he powers it off, save for your heavy breathing. You feel the vibrator land on the bed next to you. 

Your head hangs between your shoulders again…you should have known better. When will you learn?

“I don’t like this, Chan,” you breathe.

“Because you’re resisting,” he says. He smacks your ass. “Turn around, and sit down.”

You turn around so you’re facing him and sit down, legs open, leaning back on the bed.

“Do you trust me?” His gaze is focused on your glistening pussy but he raises them to look you directly in the eyes. 

“To an extent…” you answer honestly. 

He reaches for both of your pillows and hands them to you. You prop them up behind you and lean back on them. He picks up the vibrator and hands it to you once again. You graciously accept it this time, quickly turning it on and placing it back against your clit. You’re thankful you’re able to see his face. 

“I want you,” he says, leaning back in the chair and stroking himself over his boxers. “ready and willing to give yourself to me whenever the fuck I say so.”

You whimper at his words. 

“I don’t care where we are, what day it is, or who’s room you're sleeping in for the night.” 

He extends his arm forward and pushes his first three fingers inside of you.

“I make you feel good, don’t I?” His tone is soft, but his eyes are hardened. 

“Yes,” you answer weakly, unable to deny it. 

“I wanna please you, y/n. In so many ways.”

You bite your lip, watching the way his eyes roam over your body–your pussy, your tits, your face–taking all of you in as his fingers slowly move in and out of you. It feels like so much more than just him watching you get yourself off, though. This act of solo play is giving him some kind of pleasure as well. His other hand is still stroking his cock over his boxers. It seems like some kind of exercise in self-restraint for him too. 

As you start to move your other hand to your breasts, his eyes dart to your hand and you freeze. 

“May I?” You ask.

Your question sets something alight in him. He licks his lips and nods so you proceed, cupping your breast in your hand. You pinch your nipple while moving your hips against his fingers and sliding the vibrator back and forth across your clit. 

At the sound of your moan, his hands spring to action. He withdraws his fingers from you to pull down his boxers. He grips his cock and you let out a soft grunt at the sight. You still want to feel it inside of you. 

“I wish you could see how good you look right now–you’re fucking dripping,” he says, extending his hand again to rub his fingers in your slick. 

You spread your legs apart even further. You want him to have the best view after all. 

He groans at your movements. He brings the hand on his cock to his mouth, spitting on it before stroking himself. 

Your back arches. Your toes start to curl. Watching him rub his cock as he looks at you, his fingers inside of you, the vibrator…it’s all starting to make you come undone. But you haven’t forgotten your lessons.

“Chan…I want to come,” you announce. 

He’s quiet. Contemplative. He withdraws his fingers from you once again and sits back in the chair. 

“Turn it off,” he tells you. 

You hesitate, breathing heavily as you weigh the outcome of potential disobedience in the fraction of a second. You’re right on the edge–it would be so easy. It would feel so good. 

You let out a saddened sigh, pressing the power button on the vibrator. 

“You’ll always listen to me, that’s why I chose you…that’s why you’re mine.” He says in the deafening silence of the room. “But will you let me be fully in control?”

His hand continues to slowly stroke his cock as he speaks to you.

“You already are…clearly,” you say, feeling jaded as the feeling of an orgasm dissipates. 

He holds his hand out to you. You scoot to the edge of the bed and stand, placing your hand in his. He brings you to him, pressing his knees together so you’re forced to stand, straddled above them. 

“But it’s better if you want it, too.”

He grabs you by the back of your thighs, making you move forward until your tits are right in front of his face. He looks up at you from in between them. The sight is exhilarating. 

He holds his cock steady while the other hand still gripping your thigh guides you down. You step your legs further apart to accommodate. He positions himself at your opening and allows you to slowly lower yourself until he’s fully inside of you. You let out a low breath. His hands rest on your hips as you move slowly up and down on his dick. 

“It doesn’t have to be this way. I can be tame. We can just fuck,” he says. 

You can’t think straight. Not with him inside you.

As if sensing this, his fingers dig into your hips to still you. You clasp your hands behind his neck.

Do you want this? Most facets of your life thrive on routine and you being the one in control, always knowing what to expect. If you say no…what becomes of your year at SKZ House with Chan? Will you lose out on getting to know him? Right now, your sexual connection is all that you have. Is it more meaningful to explore this side of him than nothing at all?

Your hips start to rock against him as you nod your head, rubbing at the hairs on the nape of his neck. 

He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, groaning at your acceptance. 

“Say it.”

Say what? His nails dig into your skin, pulling you forward and pushing you back. He grunts each time he’s fully inside of you. He maneuvers your weight on him with ease, muscles flexed, face in place of bliss. 

“Say it,” he growls, eyes snapping open to stare daggers at you when you’ve remained silent for too long. 

“I want…” you begin, leaning back to allow a better angle as you grind your pussy onto his cock. “I want to submit to you.”

Your words garner an immediate reaction. He sucks in a breath, sitting up and forcing you to do the same. As soon as you’re upright, his mouth is on your tits. Kissing, bitting, swirling his tongue around each nipple in turn. 

“Only me, yeah?” He asks, biting down on your nipple.

“Yes,” you pant. 

You plant your feet firmly on the floor to allow yourself more control in your movements, bouncing on him as the feeling of an orgasm relentlessly sweeps through you. 

“Come for me,” he says, squeezing your tits in his hands as you toss your head back. 

You alternate between bouncing and grinding against him until your orgasm rolls through you. You’re loud, but you don’t care and neither does he. Your legs start to shake, but Chan takes over lifting you up and down, a sloshing sound filling the air as he continues thrusting into your wet pussy. 

You need a respite. You place your hands on his chest and stand up, legs feeling like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time. You slip down to your knees in front of him before he has a chance to protest. 

“May I?” You can still feel your pussy throbbing, thighs wet from your come. 

He nods his approval and stands up.

The second you take him in your mouth, his hands are in your hair, guiding you back and forth as he grunts and groans. You use both hands in conjunction with your mouth. The taste of yourself on him encourages you to move faster, to be sloppier. And he fucking loves it. He grips onto your hair as he thrusts his hips forward. You remove your hands and let him fuck your face. You brace yourself, ready for him to fill your mouth again. 

He pulls his cock out but continues stroking it vigorously.

“Lean back,” he says. 

You lean back, resting your head against the edge of the bed just as he aims his dick directly at your chest and comes. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. 

The first spurt lands near your neck. It startles you, but you don’t flinch. You maintain eye contact with Chan as he marks his newly acquired territory. 

“You look so fucking good,” he moans, still stroking, still spilling onto you. 

And with the look in his eyes, you feel like it. 

When he releases the last drop, he lowers himself to his knees, breathing heavily. He watches for a moment, as his come slowly drips down your torso. He reaches a finger out, wiping up a splatter that’s dripped from your neck to your nipple. He hooks that same finger inside of your mouth and you swirl your tongue around it. He quickly takes his finger out and replaces it with his tongue. The kiss is slow and calm, but heated, as you share in the taste of each other. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, exhaling a deep breath. 

He stands and pulls his boxers back up. You enjoy him from your vantage point, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his toned abs, the look of pure delight on his face. You caused that. A smile forms on his lips and it’s the biggest reward he could have given you. He adds in a wink and you think you might melt into a puddle of goo. 

He jerks his head towards the bathroom. 

“Clean up in there,” he says. 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and turns to walk towards the door. He stops before opening it, adjusting himself in his boxers, then exits the room. The lack of his presence is immediately felt, but your feeling of abandonment at his departure is significantly less than previous nights. 

You slowly stand up, feeling euphoric, dizzy and dirty. You walk to the bathroom, turn on the lights and then start the shower. You return to his mirror as the water warms up, looking at yourself. You’re covered in Chan. The girl in your reflection certainly is you, but given the events that just occurred you can’t understand why there’s a coy smile on your face. Have you no shame? 

[ read chapter eight here ]

a/n: 😅 that needed to happen before what's to come. hope you all understand the need for the switch up and its not too jarring. thank you all for continuing to read, like, comment, and reblog. it makes me so dedicated to providing a good, well-rounded story for you!

taglist: @iflmho / @skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @hynxnelly / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo

[tooearlyforthis]

The Romance Section | Steve Harrington

Emerging from my hibernation to post this fever dream lol. Still on that Stranger Things high but I'll be getting back to some MCU stuff soon <3

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Synopsis: An unexpected friendship arises while working at Family Video and Robin is convinced that it could turn into something more.

Warnings: fluff, angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining

Click here to see my masterlist

In the 4 months since working at Family Video. Y/n L/n had never once worked a shift with Steve Harrington. Sure, they had run into each other a couple times, sharing a co-worker and best friend, Robin Buckley, but the two had never been alone together. 

That was, until this Monday.

Monday’s were always slow which is why Y/n was looking forward to spending her whole shift gossiping and talking movies with Robin. But when she opened the door, the last person she expected to see was the former “king” of Hawkins High. 

“Hey,” Steve said, awkwardly shifting his weight between his two feet. 

“I-I thought Robin was working today,” was all she could muster to say. 

“She’s sick, I’m just filling in.”

Nodding, Y/n warily made her way over to the front desk, putting her stuff behind the counter. What was she going to do for eight hours with Steve Harrington? From the little she knew about him, they were total opposites. He like sports, shitty blockbusters and went through women like they were nothing. There was nothing she could possibly think of that would make for interesting conversation with him.

Instead of attempting to make small talk about the weather and whatever new burger Benny decided to put on his menu, she opted for complete separation from him. After placing her bag on the ground, pulling out her water to keep on the small shelf below the register, she turned to face him. 

“Keith hasn’t reorganized this place since we were sophomores so I’m gonna go do that,” she said, walking away from the counter, not waiting for a response. 

“What about customers?” she heard him say from behind.

“It’s a Monday. I say we’re gonna have 5 customers for the entire day tops.”Turning into an isle, she opted to start with the arthouse films. 

“Hmm I say seven.”

Peeking her head from around the corner, she looked at him confused. He leaned against the counter, a smirk on his face like he had just predicted the Y2K problem. 

“Are you trying to challenge me?” she asked, unsure of what game he was playing. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he emerged from behind the counter. “Maybe I am. What do you say? Five or less, you win. Seven or more, I do.”

“What about in between?”

“Let’s call it a draw.”

Rolling her eyes, she withdrew back into the arthouse section. “Whatever to get you to stop talking, Harrington.”

It was a good 30 minutes before they spoke again. Nobody came in, like expected, but she could hear him fidgeting with something on the other side of the room. She didn’t care, though, let him do what he wanted it wasn’t bothering her… until it was. 

“Alright, what do you think?” he said, turning into the isle. He held up a drawing, not a particularly good one as Y/n couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be. 

“Of the blob you drew?” she asked, putting another tape back on the shelf. 

“It’s not a blob! It’s Mrs. Talc! The math teacher. You had her too right? We were in the same class?”

Y/n couldn’t contain her laughter. She brought a hand up to her mouth trying to hold back but it wasn’t working. “Yeah, we were but she didn’t look like that.”

Steve smiled, looking at his drawing and back at her. “I think it looks exactly like her.”

She kept laughing, Steve joining along as he moved next to her, picking up a film from her pile to organize. As the chuckles died down, she looked at him, smiling as he carefully placed the films back on the shelf. It was a moment before he realized her stare.

“What?” he asked, placing another tape on the shelf. 

“N-nothing,” she said quickly, grabbing a tape herself. “I didn’t know you actually knew how to work here.”

“Hey, I can do my job!”’

“Yeah but you’re Steve. King Steve who if I remember correctly, was failing Mrs. Talc’s class.” That seemed to strike a chord with him. She watched as his small smile disappeared, leaving a solemn expression on his face. “S-sorry I didn’t mean-“

“-No it’s okay,” he interrupted her. “I was King Steve, or at least that’s what everyone labeled me as… You were right I was failing Talc, but I’m different now. Changed for the better -hopefully.”

He took the last film, placing it on the shelf before looking down at her. She didn’t know what to say after judging him so harshly. Before even getting the chance to apologize, the front bell rang, indicating a customer walking in. 

Steve backed up, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ll go help them out,” he said, walking away without waiting for a response. 

She felt like shit, bringing up high school drama that he clearly wanted to forget. He was right, about him changing. If this was still high school he wouldn’t even be speaking to her right now - she was surprised that he even remembered they shared a class. 

As she turned the corner she watched as Steve intently recommended a movie to the customer. He put a smile on his face as he handed over the tape, patiently waiting as they viewed it. He was quite good at this job actually, she was never able to get someone to rent a tape as fast as he just did. 

The customer left the store, some blockbuster movie shoved into a plastic bag and Y/n decided right then and there that she would make an effort to know the new Steve Harrington. 

Walking up to the counter, she rested her arms on top. “Alright Harrington,” she started. “How about we make this bet more interesting?”

He was caught by surprise, not expecting to get another sentence out of his co-worker for the rest of the shift. “S-sure,” he mustered out, recovering quickly with a raised eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Loser buys the other lunch.”

He debated only for a moment before holding out his hand for her to shake. “Alright, L/n, you’ve got yourself a bet.”

With a smile she shook his hand before turning around to go start organizing another shelf. She couldn’t see from behind as she turned into the action movie section but Steve had a grin that reached from ear to ear. 

——

After that initial shift, the one where Steve ended up buying her lunch for the day, the two workers grew closer and closer. Y/n suddenly found herself having more one on one shifts with him, each which were filled with laughter and soon-to-be inside jokes. 

Robin was especially grateful for their new friendship, finally having her two best friends get along was the best gift she could’ve asked for - and she made no effort to hide that fact.

“I just can’t believe that you and the dingus are getting along!” she said, watching Y/n stack another tape on the shelf. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, well you were right,” Y/n said. “He’s changed since high school. He’s actually a decent human being now.”

“I told you so!”

“Robin, I just said you were right,” she reminded her friend, making them both chuckle slightly. 

Almost on cue, the doorbell rang and Steve Harrington walked through. Robin watched as her friend stood up straight, walking over to join her from behind the counter.

“Hey Steve,” Robin greeted him. “We were just talking about you.”

“What?” Y/n said quickly, seeing the confused look on his face turning to face him. “No we weren’t. What’s up? I thought it was your day off?”

“It is, I just grabbed the wrong tape when I left yesterday and Henderson is throwing a hissy fit. I’ll just go grab the right one… do you wanna help me?”

“S-sure!” Y/n exclaimed, walking out from around the counter to head over with him.

Robin watched the scene unfold in front of her with suspicion. She watched as Steve fumbled with the tape he was holding, walking closely next to his new friend. Y/n made no move to back away, smiling as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. It was like a scene straight out of a movie. Robin watched as Steve picked up the new tape, brushing over Y/n's hand softly in the process. 

Backing away slightly, he raised a hand to her. “See you Buckley!”

“Bye Harrington!” she yelled as Y/n made her way back over to the counter with a smile she wasn’t trying to hide. “Alright,” Robin began to her. “When were you gonna tell me?”

Y/n looked at her confused. “Tell you what?”

“That you and Harrington are dating!”

“What!?” she exclaimed, taking a step back. “M-me and Steve? What- no- why- we’re not dating.”

“Well you coulda fooled me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Steve didn’t need help exchanging that tape. He works here he just wanted to be near you! And the way you too were smiling and blushing? I mean, you’re not dating, you guys have it bad for each other.”

“I do not like Steve like that, Robin!” Y/n persisted, crossing her arms. 

“Whatever you say… Hey, you’re still going to Nancy’s party tomorrow right?”

“Yeah I’ll be there… I’m gonna go take my break.”

Waving bye, she headed into the back room, Robin’s comment still on her mind. Steve and her dating? That was ridiculous! She liked talking to him, having his company during work made the shifts feel like they were going by faster. And sure, she liked the way he chuckled at her jokes, like everything she said was clever. 

But they were just friends. 

Even if she did like him, Steve definitely did not think of her the same way. She needed to stop thinking about this. There was no good in dwelling over things that weren’t true.

🎬🎬🎬 

The party at Nancy Wheeler’s was more packed than usual. Y/n didn’t know that she was friendly with this many people but nevertheless, the house was packed. She moved through the living room in an attempt to get to the kitchen when she heard her name being called out. 

“Y/n!” she turned to see Robin, her arm strung over her girlfriend Vickie. 

“Hey guys,” she returned. “Packed house huh?”

“Yeah I think the football team heard it was going on and crashed it,” Vickie commented, practically yelling over the voices around them.

Y/n nodded, searching for a clear path to the kitchen.

“Looking for someone?” Robin said with a smirk.

“No?” Y/n said, not knowing what she was talking about. “I’m trying to find the quickest way to get a beer.”

“Maybe he can help you.” Robin motioned behind her to someone. 

Turning, Y/n was caught by surprise. Steve Harrington was in the living room, look around like he didn’t know what to do. She turned back to Robin and Vickie to ask why he was here but they were gone before she could.

“Hey, L/n,” said Steve, causing her to look back at him.

“H-hey,” she said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I didn’t think you and Nancy were on good terms… I heard about how she dumped you in high school…”

“Yeah…” he said, remembering back to the day she was talking about. “It’s fine, we weren’t meant for each other but we’re still good friends.”

Y/n nodded, looking around not knowing what to do. “So… beer?” she asked. 

“Beer,” he agreed. 

The two finally made their way to the kitchen grabbing two bottles before suddenly there was an arm back on Y/n's shoulder. A friend from high school hastily pulled her away from Steve, giving her just enough time to give him an apologetic look.

As her friend went on, drowning her in every detail of her life since the moment they last saw each other, Y/n tried to think of every possible way to escape the conversation. She tried to go to the bathroom, scan the room for Robin, and even just make up an emergency altogether, but the girl wouldn’t stop speaking. She droned on and on about her boyfriend and how they were going to move in together, not even letting Y/n speak a word. To put it simply, she was exhausted. 

It wasn’t until the girl finally left with her friend that Y/n realized they had been talking for nearly the entire party. She looked around, watching as people crashed to the floor or leaving without saying any goodbyes - she had missed the entire thing. 

The house was a mess and since the party was basically dead now anyways, she thought it was as good as time as any to start cleaning up. Finding a trash bag in the kitchen, she opted to start with the empty cans left in the living room. Slowly putting one bottle after the other in to the bag, she heard someone call out for her. 

Groaning, she turned around, hoping for it not to be her old high school friend. When she saw who it was, a smile was brought to her face.

“Where have you been all night?” asked Steve Harrington, plopping down on the sofa.

“Getting my ear talked off by some girl we used to go to school with. It was so boring,” she told him, putting another can in the bag. 

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Helping clean up, maybe you should too.”

“No,” he waved her off. “Stop that, I hired cleaners to come in the morning.”

Y/n dropped her bag to the side, trying to process what he just say. “I’m sorry you paid for someone to come? Damn Harrington, throwing around the big bucks.”

He gave a small chuckle as she sat down on the couch next to him, their shoulders bumping slightly at the sudden movement. 

“Yeah well what else am I gonna use it for. Might as well help some friends out right?” 

“I guess so…”

Silence took the air for only a moment before Steve continued. “…my parents are never home,” he started up again, a more serious tone taking over his voice. “When you’re constantly alone, it’s easy to get swept up in making yourself busy to uh, block out any of the feelings…so whether it be finding a minimum wage job, hanging out too much with Robin, or paying to have cleaners come to your exes house…it just helps to take your mind off things…”

He trailed off into silence again, scouring to himself for oversharing with someone he barely new. Y/n could tell he was getting tense, the way his shoulders caved in, trying to engulf himself. 

“I get what you mean,” she responded softly, trying to make him feel better.

He looked over at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yeah?”

Nodding, she continued. “My dad left when I was little… it’s really only been me and my mom for as along as I can remember. I’m so used to cleaning up and taking care of others sometimes it feels like my brain just goes on auto pilot. Like if I’m not helping others I won’t stop to realize I’m not taking care of myself.”

She could see his eyes soften, looking at her like he wasn’t expected to hear her unannounced childhood trauma. 

“S-sorry,” she backtracked, looking down at her lap. “That got a little deep there for a second.”

Quickly Steve replied, “Don’t apologize.” She looked back up at him; he was leaning closer to her, almost feeling his breath against her face. “I like learning new things about you. The good and the bad.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

She felt herself moving closer, her eyes darting from his eyes down to his lips.

“I like learning new things about you too.”

His hand reached up, cupping her cheek, pulling her in closer. They were practically connected, their lips barely hovering over each other. It was in that moment that Y/n decided, Fuck it.

She closed the gap between them, feeling the hand on her face apply a little but more pressure. It was slow, like they were savoring each last bit of the kiss, like it would be the first and last time this would be happening.

Y/n pushed into him, pulling him closer by the waist as she felt his other hand tangle in her hair. He moaned into her mouth, turning his head to get a new angle. It felt…nice; something she hadn’t expected from the playboy of her old high school. 

Slowly, they pulled away, wanting only a moment to catch their breaths before diving back in. But before their lips could connect again, someone called out for him.

“Steve!” He turned his head, his hair brushing against her face before she turned as well. In stumbled a very drunk Eddie Munson, a bottle of beer dropping from his hands. “H-have u seeen Chrisslsly?” he asked, slurring his words. 

“No, Munson I haven’t,” he replied, a tone of annoyance in his voice. 

Eddie tripped over the hem of the rug, falling on the floor before rolling over on his back aching. Y/n felt Steve leave her embrace, getting up to go help up his friend. Leaning down, he took one of Eddie’s arms and draped it over his shoulder.

“Come on, Munson, let’s get you home.”

Without another word, another acknowledgment of what had just occurred, he left, taking his drunk interrupter with him. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Y/n whispered to herself. 

She ran her hands over her face, like she would wake up from a dream any minute now. But as her eyes opened again she found she was still on Nancy Wheeler’s couch, in shock that she just made out with one of her best friends. 

🎬🎬🎬 

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Robin exclaimed, leaning over the counter of Family Video. 

Y/n was restocking the sci-fi movies, relaying the events of the previous night’s party. “Come on Robin,” she said, putting another movie on the shelf. “It was just a kiss.”

“A kiss?! Y/n, that wasn’t just a kiss. That was a declaration of love!”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, be serious. It was barely anything.”

“Well what does Steve think about this?”

“I haven’t talked to him since it happened…” Y/n said trailing off. “…Eddie came in drunk and he had to leave pretty quickly.”

“And he hasn’t called?”

She shook her head. “Hence why it was only a kiss. He didn’t mean anything more than that.”

“Y/n, Steve doesn’t just kiss anyone.”

“Did we go to the same high school?” she asked sarcastically. 

“Come on, you know he’s changed since then. How else would you guys be friends?” Robin emerged from behind the counter, walking up and grabbing her with both shoulders. “Trust me. He likes you. Eddie just got in the way and he’s probably too nervous to call.”

Robin was being very persistent and it was not helping Y/n's case. She didn’t want to admit it, but, she liked kissing Steve Harrington. She liked that he opened up to her and wanted to know more about her. He was the first boy that felt to her like he actually cared. 

But he didn’t call her, didn’t even acknowledge their kiss as he left the party with Eddie. Sure, he changed his ways but she knew for a fact that Harrington charm was still there. Why wouldn’t he call if it wasn’t just a kiss? 

“I’m going back to restocking,” Y/n said, wanting to be done with the conversation. 

Robin groaned, walking back to her place at the counter. “All my friends are idiots,” she murmured under her breath.

🎬🎬🎬 

Another week went by without any call or talk from Steve. That was, until she walked in for another morning shift, one that she was expecting to see Robin at. 

As she opened the doors to Family Video, finding they were already unlocked, she stumbled back slightly. Steve was already behind the counter, playing with some Rubik’s cube as he waited for the shop to open. 

When he noticed her enter, Steve stood up, tossing the cube to the side, leaning his hands on the counter. “H-hi,” he said awkwardly.

Still in shock that he was here, she got straight to the point. “What are you doing here?”

“Robin, uh, called out sick again.”

Nodding, she put her bag down, not knowing what to do. They hadn’t spoken in over a week, a week since he kissed her and left without another word. She wanted a normal shift with her best friend, one where she didn’t have to worry about what she did or said, or if he was going to reject her to her face. 

“I’m just gonna go organize the romance section,” she said, walking away without another word. 

The shift turned from painful silent into one of the busiest days they had in a along time. Y/n got maybe two tapes on the shelf before a customer came up to ask her a question. Looking over to the counter, hoping Steve could help, she saw he too had another customer at the front. 

With a smile, she turned back to the women in front of her, directing her over to the silent movie section. The first half of their shift went on like that, always someone helping a customer and having no time to do anything else. 

When the half way mark hit and Y/n was able to come back from lunch, it was finally empty. She sighed, watching as Steve went to the back to begin his break, happy she would finally have time with her own thoughts. 

While she was helping the customers, Robin’s words still played in the back of her mind. Steve doesn’t just kiss anyone, he’s changed. It didn’t matter cause he would have talked to her by now - called at least. No, she wouldn’t bring it up because it would only lead to rejection and Y/n didn’t think she could handle that. 

The door in the back slammed close and Y/n peeped her head around the corner to see Steve emerge from the break room. They made eye contact for a moment before she stuff her head back into the romance section, set on organizing the shelf. 

Two hours had past and every now again she check around the corner to see if there were any new customers. There wasn’t but she could see her coworker getting antsy, like he needed to say something but she would hide every time he tried. She had finished organized the section pretty early on, but there was nothing left to do so there she sat, reorganizing the shelf once more. 

Y/n stuck her head out one more time, expecting to see him at the front desk but he was no where to be seen. Thinking he left to get something from the back, she tuned around to grab another tape. The last thing she was expecting to see Steve Harrington standing behind her. Yelping, she jumped back slightly, trying to catch her breath. 

“Jesus, Steve! Why are you standing there like that?!” she exclaimed. 

“You’re ignoring me,” he stated. 

She sighed, grabbing the film. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” he continued, watching as she continued her task. “You’ve been reorganizing the same section for over two hours.”

“It’s messy,” she shrugged.

“Bullshit.” 

As she went to put another tape on the shelf, he reached out a hand and blocked it. He stepped closer to her as she turned to him, not wanting to deal with his little fit. Staring up at him, she felt her gaze soften to match his. He looked distraught, like he was a bubble that could burst any second. 

In a soft voice he said, “We have to talk about it.”

Oh boy. She couldn’t do this. Not now, not here. “Talk about what?” she asked, knowing full well that was a lie.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh come on.”

She stepped back from him, needing to get away from how close they once were. Slowly she shook her head. “No, we don’t,” she finally gave in. 

“I think we do-“

“No!” she interrupted him, leaning against one of the stacks of tapes. She let her head hit the top shelf behind her as she closed her eyes in defeat. “I won’t let you reject me to my face so let’s just skip this conversation and go on with our shift.”

When she opened her eyes, she saw that Steve was once again in front of her. Making no move to walk away, she watched as he placed both his hands on either side of the shelf, trapping her in his gaze. 

“I lied,” he said plainly. 

“What?”

“I lied, Robin isn’t sick I asked her to trade shifts with me.”

Y/n felt her heart beating faster. What was he saying? What did this mean? 

“Why?” she asked him.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why do you think?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. “I don’t think that kiss was a mistake, and I really wanna kiss you again.”

Y/n felt her heart drop. Was this real? Was she dreaming right now? She looked up into his eyes, they made her feel like she was the only one in the world. Fuck it, dream or not, she really wanted to kiss him back.

“Then do it,” she said. 

Before the words could even finish forming on her tongue, Steve leaned in, capturing her lips on his. She felt her hands find their way to his waist, trying to pull him closer to her. He pressed her more against the shelf, the kiss quickening and becoming more intense by the second. 

There was almost no time to come up for air as he leaned down to kiss her again. It felt desperate, like thirst you couldn’t quite get rid of. She smiled into the kiss, feeling him do the same. 

They were both so stupid denying their feelings for each other. It was obvious how they felt, and now kissing him in the romance section, she couldn’t figure out why she waited. 

As he moaned into her mouth, the door of Family Video rang. Quickly, they pulled apart, turning their heads to the door. A very shocked Vickie stood, still on the front doormat. Y/n pushed Steve away, trying to clean up her appearance like it would erase what their friend had just seen. 

“Vickie-” Steve tried to start with her but he was cut off quickly.

“-Oh Robin is so going to freak when she hears about this!” she exclaimed, turning to walk back out the store. 

“Wait did you need something?” Y/n asked, wondering why she came in to begin with. 

“Not anymore!” she shouted, bolting to her car outside. 

Y/n heard Steve say, “Shit,” as he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his head on her shoulder. “Robin is not going to live this down is she?”

“No, I don’t think she will.”

He leaned down, trying to kiss her again but Y/n put a finger up to his lips. She turned around to face him properly. 

“No,” she said.

“But I really wanna kiss you again,” he whined. 

“You can… after you help me organize the romance section.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smirk, walking over and putting tapes of the shelf. 

Y/n laughed watching as he tried to rush through the task. Steve Harrington was a goofball and very bad at communicating his feelings but that didn’t matter anymore. She found her place next to him, helping put the tapes away smiling at the thought of their kiss in the romance section. 

[yunacoeur]

loser in love - kim taerae

a/n: i’ve been working on this for about a week now and it’s still shorter than i expected it to be. oh well, let me know if you like this! also who do i need to bribe at wakeone to give me jeonghyeon bc i miss him!!!! need him so bad

word count: 3.8k

zb1 | kim taerae, sunshine x grumpy au, angst, cute ending, communication issues trope, he fell first but she fell harder trope, college au, reader kinda sucks but they mean well <3

—

your professor assigns a two-person project in your philosophy class. it’s a paper on whether or not socrates was innocent or guilty of corrupting the youth.. or something like that. given you got a decent partner, it would take just a couple sessions at the library to get it done. you’re not even paying attention until someone walks up to you while you’re reading something on your phone. you look up to see a guy from your class you haven’t spoken to yet, though his reputation precedes him (yours must as well. he seems like he knows who you are). 

his name is taerae, you… think. he’s in the same friend group with sung hanbin and kim jiwoong, which already means he’s popular and well liked if he’s good enough to hang around with those kinds of guys. he’s always got this bright smile on his face, like a literal ray of sunshine walks through those doors every monday, wednesday, and friday. 

“hi,” he says to you, “i’m taerae. you’re my partner, right?” so you were right.

“yep,” you respond plainly. 

he awkwardly waits for you to maybe say something else, but when you don’t, he says, “are you available to meet at the library today? so we can get a headstart?”

yeah and did i mention he’s an amazing student? you couldn’t even imagine doing an assignment the day it was assigned, let alone actually do it, but it’s one less thing to worry about in three weeks and your future self will thank you.

“yeah, i can do 3,” you say and he smiles that bright smile that could make your heart flutter.

“alright, i’ll see you then!” he says, and then he’s off. 

you’re left right where you started, sitting at your desk, staring at your phone. you look over at the couple next to you, being way too excited that they got paired together. they’re doing way too much pda for a classroom and it reminds you, once again, that love is weird. not your style.

—

the first time you go to the library is 3 weeks before the due date.

“so which argument should we use? i think guilty would be more interesting to write about, but innocent is probably the easier side to defend.” he says, looking over at you after going over all his papers with that stupid smile again. it’s kind of annoying how immediately likable he is. 

“i don’t care. up to you,” you mumble, getting your laptop setup to write up your guys’ outline. 

he seems discouraged that you’re only responding to him shortly, but he refuses to give up, much to your dismay, “i want you to pick.” he says, small smile this time. his dimple is still visible, of course. 

“fine. we’ll argue that he’s innocent. what’s your email so i can share this doc with you?” you say, looking up at him, making brief eye contact. 

he’s silent for a second, just looking at you. 

and then suddenly it’s like his soul comes back into his body. “oh, sorry,” he says lamely, typing in his email on your keyboard and handing your laptop back you. he gets quiet for a second, and it makes the atmosphere weird and almost tense.

you feel the need to break it, “do you want to write the introduction and then first two arguments and i’ll write the third argument, the counter, and the conclusion?”

he smiles. you don’t even know why he would be smiling right now, but he has this look of fondness on his face, “sure. let’s work for an hour and then take a break. okay?” he says and you nod. 

you pretend not to notice the way he keeps looking at you, opening his mouth like he has something to say, and then giving up on that thought and going back to typing. 

—

“hi bestie,” you say as you walk up to taerae’s usual seat in the library. and there he is as always at this time. he doesn’t even know himself how he got you to show up here everyday (even if you barely did any work. you had finished your parts of the paper a week ago, but keep showing up to accompany him until he was done.) he can’t figure out why you keep showing up but he wont tell you to leave. 

“hey,” he says, not looking up from his laptop. 

“i got you something,” you tell him. he looks up, curious. 

you got him coffee when you got one for yourself, the exact thing he told you he liked last time.

it makes his heart skip a beat. maybe more than one.

—

“do you believe in ghosts?” he asks you as you type up a different assignment. the question catches you off guard, and you choose to stop your assignment and humor him for a second. 

“i guess so? why?” 

“why do you believe in ghosts?” he asks.

you laugh breathlessly, considering the true answer that you believe, “it just makes sense that they do. especially if their soul had unfinished business.”

“like what?”

“i dont know,” you shake your head, giggling at his persistence, “maybe they left someone they loved dearly behind, and they have to watch over them.”

loved… to love someone so dearly that you soul won’t rest until they find peace. your peace connected to theirs. how beautiful…

—

“do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he asks, suddenly. a part of you almost already knows what he means. you were always more similar than you gave yourselves credit for.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve never been in love. always so focused on music and my studies,” he admits, looking over at you, “am i missing out? it is nice to be in love?”

“well, unfortunately for you, you picked the one wrong person to ask,” you laugh at his defeated face, “ i’ve never been in love and i don’t really think i want to. it sounds lame. like i just wanna love my friends and myself. i don’t think romance is for me.” 

“yeah..? that sounds lonely,” he comments, but you shake your head.

“not lonely, just no one to break my heart.”

—

“if we keep going at this rate,” you say as you walk up to him and pull out your laptop, “we’ll probably only have to come to the library one more time. so this is what it’s like to be a good student.” you laugh to yourself as you sit down. he smiles faintly.

“yeah, for sure,” he says. almost looking down, like what you said upset him in some kind of way. it doesn’t make sense why. why would he want to keep working on philosophy assignments more than they have to?

— 

the supposedly ‘last’ time you go to the library is d-5 from the due date.

“do you really hate romance?” he asks, bringing up the topic again. he seems weirdly hung up on it.

“no, i never said i hated it. just not for me,” you sigh, “i’m not really a people person anyway. there’s no one i’d want to date even if i wanted to be romanced.”

ouch.

—

it’s d-day. a beautiful wednesday.

“hey!” taerae says, catching your attention as you get up to leave class. 

“what’s up?”

“can you meet after your classes today? would 3 work?” he asks, knowing full well you just submitted that paper with both your names on it. it was a+ material, what could be wrong about it?

“why? the project is over,” you say bluntly. he smile falters just a bit, but he catches himself and continues on.

“i… need your help to study,” he says, like he came up with it on the spot. 

‘you need… my help?’ you wanna say, but you don’t. you don’t call him out. 

“okay,” you say, “but i’m not staying long. just long enough to ‘help’ or whatever. see ya, tae.” you get up to go, but his hand stops you, grabbing your arm. 

“hey... uhm.. please come,” he says sincerely. something about this feels deeper than just ‘studying’. his eyes are showing how vulnerable he already feels. 

 “i will, taerae. i promise,” you say, “i'm honestly offended you think I'm gonna stand you up.”

he laughs with a bittersweet smile, “sorry!” as you walk off to your next class.

–

he’s sitting at one of those benches outside the library when you walk up to him. he doesn’t notice you at first, just playing on his phone. he looks so peaceful. 

and then he notices you, and smiles that signature smile, “hey! thank you for coming,” he says.

it’s just a tad bit confusing why he’s so hellbent on the idea that you wouldn’t want to come see him, or that it’s so important that you’re here. 

“i’m taking it that you don’t need help studying,” you smile back at him, and he shakes his head, “didn’t think so. you’re a star student.”

“i try my best,” he says, and you scoff at him. he barely tries. he’s just good at everything (except for math. but that’s math’s fault for being too complicated for him).

you shake your head at him, “okay, what did you wanna do?”

“i actually wanted to tell you something,” he starts. that smile of his fades when he gets anxious. he puts his hands in his pockets to hide how clammy they’re getting. you urge him to continue but he’s struggling to find the words, “i-i’m sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

“it’s okay, tae, just breathe,”

he frowns, seemingly gaining the courage to say his thoughts, “i- i know this is- this is not what you want to hear because you’ve told me how you’re not romantically interested in anyone and you don’t want a relationship. you’re really clear about that and i respect that.”

he closes his eyes as he braces himself for how vulnerable he’s about to feel. he’s preparing to bare his heart out to you, when he knows you can’t care for it like he needs. 

“and i don’t want to make you feel pressured, but it feels wrong to hide it from you while i monopolize all your time,” he says, lowering his face to hide it from you. you can still see how red his ears are getting though, “i had to go and fall for the one person i couldn’t fall in love with.” he says it more to himself, like a criticism. ‘how could i do something so stupid, so self-destructive?’ he’s probably thinking, "I have feelings for you. i'm sorry."

“taerae…” you whisper, coming closer to try and comfort him, putting your hand on his arm. 

he shakes his head again, looking up with you with those darling eyes that make people fall for him left and right, “and it’s not fair to you, but it’s not fair to me either. you don’t want to be in love? that’s fine. but you can’t go and take my heart and write your initials on it like it belongs to you, and expect me to not feel it pounding in my chest for you. that’s…” it’s ironic that so many people probably have feelings for him and yet he’s here, baring his soul out to you, “cruel.”

his eyes, intentionally or not, are piercing into your soul in turn. it’s like he can see every last piece of your being, and it’s frightening to be that known by someone else. they’re pulling you in like a siren song, making you want to give it a chance, give him a chance. his eyes are doing every last thing to make you his, promising you to only ever be yours, to never hurt you, to always make you happy. 

maybe that’s why you left him there with nothing more than a squeeze to his hand and a “i’m so sorry,”. it was easier than looking into those beautiful eyes and tell him no. easier than watching his heart (with your initials on it) shatter.

—

and so you continue on with life. soulessly, you suppose, but every day keeps coming whether or not you want it to.

you keep checking your phone. it doesn’t even make sense why, because he’s probably too embarrassed and upset to text you. and he has every right to be upset at you right now. you left him when you got scared and haven’t even tried to say sorry, much less give him a proper response since that day. he has every right to be pissed at you.

and the shitty part is you know he’s not. because he’s taerae. because he was never mad at you. not when you bugged him when he tried to study. not when you barely worked during your library meetups. not when you were late and not when you were rude to him when you first had to start working together. 

he’s never been mad at you and you know every time you walk past him, he stops to look at you, hoping you’ll turn around, and the fact that you don’t is breaking him even more. all you know is that if he uses those puppy eyes on you one more time, all your resolve will crack. 

not falling in love was your main goal during college. years of being alone, part by choice and part by circumstance, made it so you felt you were better off by yourself. it’s hard to want other people when you’re not used to feeling wanted, and being in love just seems so scary.

were you in love with taerae? that was the real question, wasn’t it?

because he wasn’t that close of a friend. you had barely known he was more than an npc a few weeks ago, and you didn’t really know him that well. he was an enigma, a being you knew existed but nothing beyond his existence. and he wasn’t particularly charming. he was awkward. he was dorky. he didn't dress that well. he was really passionate about things and those things completely consumed him. he initially seemed like an anti romantic up until now, too focused on his passions and life to even think about love.

but every time he had said a dumb joke, you laughed. every time he tried to impress you with how cool he was, sure, it was kinda dorky, but you were impressed. and when he smiled at you, it felt like the world was okay in that instant. he gave you his jacket when he was cold once, he got your coffee before your study session once, and he cheered you on. 

maybe you did love him, but he must have given you no other option. nothing else you could do besides helplessly watching as he fundamentally changed who you were.

was it so bad to be in love with taerae? he’s beyond kind and has endless good will to give the world. and of course it was scary to be in love, but taerae wasn’t scary. he wouldn’t break your heart, he’d give you peace of mind and comfort. 

—

nothing sways you to talk to him quite like another person trying to flirt with him does. they’re attractive, a little mysterious, and intriguing from the get-go- if taerae’s crush on you was indicative of a type, they’d be his perfect match. 

they’re so clearly into him, you wonder if you looked like that when you hung out with him. maybe passerbys thought you were a couple before you were even friends. 

and he’s so clearly letting them flirt. he’s not making moves, but taerae doesn’t make moves like that. he wants to move slower than that. he doesn’t want to get into their pants, he wants them to romance him. he wants to feel courted. you’re not sure what you did to romance him, or how exactly your attitude made him feel courted. 

and it’s so hard to watch him be flirted with because you were the one who left him there. that could be you right now, but it’s not. taerae is letting someone else flirt with him and letting someone else tell him jokes and smiling that bright smile at someone else. that’s what really hurts. 

but you let them be while you jealously sip your coffee, talking to your friend sitting next to you.

“you need to talk to him,” they say, “you need to tell him about your feelings. even if you’re scared. he deserves honesty and you deserve to be happy.” 

and they’re right. you know they are. friends tend to be right about this kind of stuff.

and it takes all day to build up the courage. the second you think you could do it and make it out alive, you run over to his dorm room. it’s across campus, and you really could have just walked, but that means more time left alone with your thoughts, which is a big no no right now. 

—

it’s early in the evening, but even still you’re grateful that junhyeon took pity on you and took you to his dorm room that he shares with taerae. he left you guys alone to ‘talk’ he says with a smirk. if only you were sneaking in for something fun like that. and not to pour your heart out onto his floor and just hope that he’ll be okay with cleaning up the mess. 

“taerae!” you say as you burst into the room, locking the door as soon as junhyeon annoyingly shouts, “you're welcome!”. he looks up like a deer in headlights from his desk to see you tired, out of breath, holding the door against junhyeon until he gives up. he furrows his brows in confusion.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he asks, "what's wrong? did someone say something?" he's got this look of protectiveness in his eyes. you wonder briefly if he thinks someone hurt your feelings and you came running to him for comfort. it's charming.

you shake your head, “i made a mistake and i came to fix it,” you say, that look in his eyes coming right back. like you’re back in that moment at the library. like it’s that fateful day again, with light wind in the forecast and pollen in the air. you remember nothing but how beautiful kim taerae looked and how painful it felt to run away. 

“i’m listening..” he says, trying to get you to continue, to say your side of everything, because you’re lost in thought and forgetting that he’s standing right in front of you.

you sigh, thinking maybe it’s best to back out, turning around to try the door. hopefully, junhyeon didn’t put a chair outside to keep you trapped so you could do 'things'. you almost commit to leaving, telling taerae you didn't have anything to say at all. it was easier than facing him. that’s when you see it. 

“what’s this?” you ask, pointing to the new bracelet in his pile of usual jewelry. 

“oh… my friend just got that for me, actually. i don’t think you’ve met that friend yet,” he says.

“was it the friend in the courtyard?” you ask, looking up at him. he can’t decipher the look in your eyes, but he nods. you’re half expecting a ‘how did you know i was in the courtyard?’ but you know he’s not going to pry like that. 

“taerae, i-” you start to say, and he looks up again, that hopeful look in his eyes. if you were a better person, you would have noticed how he looked at you the first time and never, ever let someone hurt him. even yourself. 

but you weren’t that person. you’ll learn to be that person now, though. his pretty smile depended on it. 

“i’m so sorry for leaving you there,” you say, getting right into it, “i’m sorry i never gave you a proper response to what you told me, and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to gather my thoughts. i’m so sorry, i feel horrible for how you must have felt when i left after you said all of that.” 

“it’s okay,” he tells you. it’s not and you both know it, “you don’t have to feel the same about me. that was my fault for falling for you and coming on so strong about my feelings. you weren’t ready for it and i scared you. i was in the wrong.”

and it hurts to know he’s still going to apologize after all of this. he’s too kind and too pure of heart. 

the bracelet comes back to your mind. and you have no right to be jealous because that person did nothing wrong. they were honestly probably a good distraction for him while you were being a coward. but the bracelet, a marker of something of theirs being on his wrist. the thought left a disgusting feeling in your stomach. it was clear in that moment exactly how you felt. 

you come closer to him, suddenly emboldened by the jealousy of a gift another suitor got him and the fact that he was so wrong in his assumption of how he felt. he takes a step back when you get a little too close, like he’s nervous. not scared, but timid about what’s going on. his breath hitches when you look down at his lips like you could devour him. you were so obvious. 

“taerae,” you say, and one last time, he looks up at you with doe eyes, “i thought i didn’t have feelings for you. and then i watched myself break your heart. i knew right there and then that these emotions couldn’t have been caused by anything other than me having feelings for you. i didn’t want to admit it, to you or myself, but…” you trail off, forgetting the last words of your sentence when his eyes find your lips, like he wants to have you now, finally knowing there’s shared emotions there, “i thought i didn’t feel anything romantic for people at all, like i was soulless, and you proved me wrong.” 

“...why did you run?”

“i was scared. i’ve always been afraid to fall in love. i kept thinking, ‘what if he broke my heart?’. i realized how dumb it sounded because… it’s just so unlike you,” you smile at him, seeing all the innocence and kindness in his eyes, and wonder how you ever could have felt scared to fall for him, “and i saw them flirt with you. i told myself i couldn’t be jealous, but it’s hard to not be. i wanted you first, kim taerae. i know it’s not up to me, but they couldn’t have you. i couldn’t let that happen.”

“...come take me then,” he says, still staring at your lips. he really won’t make the first move, will he? you smile to yourself as you step closer, pressing your lips to his briefly, pulling away, and then again, just… not so briefly this time. he pulls away first because lord knows you couldn’t have, “so what happened to ‘i never wanna fall in love’?”

“i didn’t want this initially, you know. falling for you was never a choice,” you say. he laughs with all his chest.

“such an anti-romantic. glad i could turn you,” he smiles, “i’m just happy, in all your hatred of romance and pickiness for people, you picked this loser.”

oh taerae, you’re not a loser. you’re just in love.

[the-ace-with-spades]

Bradley is eleven, will turn twelve in five months, his mom has been dead for over a year, and his dad for over nine.

His homeroom teacher gives him a permission slip for a school trip to some dumb museum Bradley’s probably already been to and says, “Your dad needs to sign it before next Monday.”

It’s Mav picking him up from school today — it’s Ice, usually, but he is supervising night-time flight maneuvers tonight — so Bradley gets in the car and they go over the normal, how was school today, any new grades, any homework to do, do you need to bring anything for class tomorrow.

They’ve stopped at a light and Bradley takes out the permission slip and says, “Mrs. Sanchez said my dad needs to sign it before Monday or I won’t go.”

Mav—Mav freezes. His hand grips the shift gear and he clenches his jaw, not looking at Bradley. The car behind them has to honk for him to snap out of it.

“I’m—I’m not your dad, Bradley,” he finally says.

“It’s just what Mrs. Sanchez said,” he points out. He doesn’t think it’s such a big deal — Mav’s been doing everything a dad would for years now, for Bradley, and Ice has been helping him the last couple of years. It’s a conclusion that many come to and it seems logical. Bradley is sure half of his teachers thought that even back when his mom was alive, Mav had certainly been to enough PTA meetings with her that it’d be an easy mistake.

“You can correct her, buddy, no one is going to be mad if you correct her, okay?”

They arrive at the house and Mav still hasn’t added anything. Bradley shrugs it off — Mav has these moments, sometimes, when he gets all quiet and unresponsive. Ice usually tells him to leave him alone or wait a couple of hours and try to cuddle with him. Bradley is kind of too big for that now, but it seems to help sometimes.

So Bradley asks if Mav needs help with dinner and after hearing no, goes back to his room.

Out of all that mess, he forgets about the permission slip.

He sits down and fills out all the empty lines so Mav just has to sign it — in capital letters, his handwriting isn’t that readable yet — and leaves just that last line with the date and signature empty.

He thinks, once again, about what Mrs. Sanchez said.

He doesn’t feel the need to correct her, still. He barely remembers his dad — he knows he loved them and he’ll never forget all the stories he heard from everyone but they’re, well, just stories. Mav is the one who taught him how to ride a bike and helped him make stupid macaroni projects for art classes, taught him how to count to a hundred, and how to tie his shoelaces and who would notice when Bradley was outgrowing his clothes or needed a new shoe size. Mav is there, every memory he has. Mav loves him like his mom and dad did.

Mav is his dad.

If Bradley’d really think about it, Ice is getting really close to being his dad, too. He’s making Bradley’s school lunches and helping him with his English homework from time to time, and he comes to Bradley’s matches and, even if Mav will never admit it, he’s the one who choses Bradley’s Christmas and birthday presents. He makes him hot chocolate when he has nightmares and stays with him for hours in the living room, reading plane manuals out loud, in the same tone his mom used to use to read his bedtime stories.

Bradley calling Mav his dad is as logical as people assuming he is his dad. And maybe it can be the same with Ice, in the near future, or maybe even now, if he agrees.

Bradley wants to call Mav dad.

So he grabs the permission slip and goes to the kitchen to tell him that.

“I don’t know, Ice, I just don’t know.”

He doesn’t notice Bradley there, standing with the piece of paper in his hand in the doorway. The phone’s cord is stretched across the kitchen, almost completely straight, as he talks with the handle between his ear and shoulder, slicing an onion at the same time.

“I’ve always wanted to have kids, as unrealistic as it seemed, but not like this,” he continues. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I’m not his dad, he’s not my son, it’s just wrong to think that, I’m not—He can’t think that.”

Bradley blinks. Once, twice, a third time. Takes a quiet step back behind the doorframe, flattens his back on the cold wall. Holds his breath.

“I mean, you’ve always said you don’t want kids,” Mav says, the knife clanking on the cutting board as he changes the hand holding the phone. “We made do with the situation, obviously, but we’re not his parents—”

Bradley doesn’t want to hear more.

*

Bradley was right — he’s already been to the Castle Air Museum. More than once, with his mom, with Mav and Ice, and with Uncle Slider and Aunt Sarah.

His dad didn’t sign the permission slip but Mav did.

It’s sunny so they’re left to wander around the outside display. The tour was boring — their tour guide couldn’t even answer the questions about engines and wingspans and takeoff capacity and it was so disappointing to know more than the adult that was supposed to teach them, again.

The rest of his class went with the tour guide, to see the open cockpit of the Mentor but Bradley just turned around to the F-4 that was on the edge of the display, old and partially reconstructed with cheap metal and plastic. He sits down on the grass in front of it and lets the sun shine at the modern paint that should not belong on the fuselage of a Phantom.

Mrs. Sanchez comes over, standing above him, looking at the Phantom with an appreciation that is clearly less understanding and more awe at the sight. She hums before asking Bradley, “You don’t want to see the cockpit with everyone? Maybe they’ll let you sit in the pilot seat, today. Our group is small.”

The open cockpit belongs to T-34, a piston-driven one they stopped using in the fifties. “I flew one of those, but it was a T-34C, powered by a turboprop.”

Mrs. Sanchez looks at him, tilting her head a bit, not really understanding what Bradley said, like most people don’t when he talks about planes. ”I suppose it’s not that impressive of a place when your dad is a naval aviator, is it?”

Mav told him to correct her so he does, “He’s not my dad.”

He brings his knees closer, wishing she’d go away. Instead, she sits down next to him, her white pants smudged green by the grass in seconds.

“Is something wrong at home, Bradley? Is your—Is everything okay with Pete?”

“Yeah,” he says because he doesn't want to be whiney. He’s already been enough trouble. “His dad flew one of those.”

Mrs. Sanchez looks at the plague in front of them to remind herself of the plane’s name. “A Phantom?”

“Yeah, during Vietnam War.”

“He must be really proud of Pete then.”

Bradley supposes he’d be. “He didn’t come back.”

Mav lost his dad, too, and then his mom. He met Bradley’s mom in the foster system and she became like a sister to him. Bradley probably wouldn’t even know Mav if Duke Mitchell was alive.

Bradley was in the foster system for three weeks when his mom died, before Mav and his case worker had filed all the appropriate paperwork. He was placed in a foster family in the neighboring town — the wife, Sandie, didn’t work and would take him to school every morning, and the husband, Robert, was a corporate lawyer, bent from six to five. They would take Bradley to church every Sunday with the rest of the kids even though Sundays were the only days Mav had enough time to drive out of Fresno and visit him while the paperwork was still in progress,

They were nice, he supposes, and some of the kids called them mom and dad, so they couldn’t be too bad.

“Is there a way I could go back to the foster system?” 

Mrs. Sanchez looks away from the plane, clears her throat, and asks gently, “Why would you go back there?”

“I dunno, just—Is there a way to put me back there?”

“I don’t think so, no, Bradley, not unless—” she breaks off, taking a deep breath, and says softly, “I’m sure Pete wouldn’t like that.”

Maybe he wouldn’t like that but it’d make everything easier for everyone.

*

It’s a few weeks later. Mrs. Sanchez hasn’t mentioned anything to Bradley even if she keeps on looking out for him during recess so he doesn’t think she’ll drill the topic.

Mav and Ice have both gone to the PTA meeting which Bradley finds odd. They’ve always been very careful about their relationship — his mom had given him a talk about how he couldn’t call Ice Mav’s boyfriend when he was six, well, Bradley had called him his husband because he didn’t really know the difference back then, and he had been instructed to keep it a secret.

He’s never mentioned it to anyone, since then, especially not to Mrs. Sanchez. He used to think it was stupid because they were both his parents and they should both be allowed to come to his plays and career days and charity fairs, but now he supposes it was convenient since Ice didn’t want a kid and probably didn’t want to be included in all those parental stuff anyway.

They pick him up from Uncle Slider and Aunt Sarah’s place but they don’t say anything. Usually, they at least mention that Bradley has good grades.

Maybe he’s doing something wrong, again. He got into one fight a couple of weeks ago but Mav said it was alright as long as it didn’t happen again.

“Can you come up to the living room once you unpack?”

Bradley takes his time. He unpacks his English homework, the only one he couldn’t do but also one Uncle Slider couldn’t really help him with — Aunt Sarah probably could but she’s been sleeping the whole time because apparently being six months pregnant is making her super sleepy. Contemplates asking Ice for help with it but decides it’s probably better he doesn’t.

He needs to start doing these things alone. He can’t bother them forever.

In six years, he’s going to be in college, and he holds onto that thought.

“So, your grades are perfect and we’re really proud of how well you’re doing in school, but—But Mrs. Sanchez mentioned a couple of things about your behavior,” Mav says.

Bradley doesn’t sit down with them on the couch even though they left space for him in the middle. He also doesn’t reply anything.

They both look at Bradley for a long moment and he fidgets under their gazes.

“Mrs. Sanchez said you asked her whether we—whether we can give you back for adoption,” Mav begins. “We’re just worried about where that question came from, Bradley, we aren’t going to—”

He said we like Ice actually wants anything to do with Bradley’s guardianship.

“We love you, Bradley, we promised your mom we’d take care of you and—”

He isn’t their son. He’s a promise they’re keeping and nothing else.

“Can I go back to my room?”

“Buddy—” Mav begins again.

Bradley doesn’t want to hear whatever he has to say. He already knows everything he needs to know.

“I know you love me, I know you won’t give me back. It was just a stupid question, is all,” he says because that was the truth — they promised his mom they would love him and here they were, trying very hard to do that.

They don’t need to pretend it’s anything else.

“Okay,” Ice says, carefully. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate and we can talk some more—”

“I just want to go to sleep.”

There’s a moment of silence and they give each other a meaningful look before turning back to Bradley.

Ice notes, “It’s not even seven.”

“We painted the whole nursery with Uncle Slider, I’m just tired. Can I go?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Mav says.

“I know,” Bradley tells him even if he isn’t so sure about it. “Can I go? I still have some homework to do.”

part two/Slider POV now here

[daleyeahson]

Girl on Film | Perv!Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader: Part 3

Summary: After days of not seeing or hearing anything from Eddie, you finally snap. When you confront him about your feelings, it’s not exactly what he had hoped to hear.

Warnings: angst, cursing, I’m just gonna go ahead and say 18+ minors dni mainly bc of what has happened before and that stuff gets briefly mentioned in here so… yeah lol

Word count: 2.9k

previous part | next part

A/n: I’m sorry this took a little longer than expected to get released! I’ve been a little busy and tbh at first I didn’t know where I wanted this story to go so that also slowed the whole process lol thank you guys for your continued love and support! You have no idea how much it truly means to me.. Enjoy! x

It’s Monday morning and Eddie slowly stirs awake. Stretching as much as he could, he turns his head over to look at the alarm clock. 6:45am. He then turns his head to the opposite side only to be met with the sight of your naked body. Your back facing him and the sheets covering just the lower half of you. Panic sets in before he has a chance to really take in the view. He starts to freak out as his questions from last night enter his mind once again.

He tries to convince himself that he’s just overreacting and that you must’ve genuinely felt the same way he did, right? If you didn’t, why would you do all of that with him? Why would you play along with the whole camcorder situation? He began to think that maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing for you. That maybe you just wanted to have fun with this and not get romantically involved. He also thought of how maybe you’d wake up and regret this whole weekend and then things would be forever changed between the two of you.

With every question of “what if?” or “why?” that crossed his mind, he knew one thing for sure. He did not want to stick around and find out. He couldn’t handle the possibility of rejection or the idea of losing you as his best friend. He needed to think things over before diving into that conversation with you. So, without a moments notice, Eddie does what he does best. He runs.

Or at least he tries too. He gently gets out of the bed, trying his best not to wake you and rushes to go take a quick shower. While he’s in the bathroom, you wake up to the sound of the water running. Still a little bit groggy, you slip on another oversized t-shirt since the one you had on yesterday was now torn in two thanks to a certain someone. You decided against wearing pants, not having the energy this morning to deal with putting them on. Plus, at this point, Eddie has seen you in a lot less, so you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You make your way to the kitchen in desperate need of something to drink. You pour yourself a glass of water and casually sip on it while having your back leaned against the counter. You hear the shower turn off and soon afterwards, the bathroom door opens. In such a hurry to leave, Eddie doesn’t even notice that you’re standing in the kitchen.

“Mornin’ Eddie, sleep well?”

“Jesus Christ!” He jumps at the sound of your voice. “I didn’t know you were awake,” he gives a nervous chuckle, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I haven’t been up for long.. What’s got you up and ready to go out the door so early?”

“Uh…” Eddie pauses for a second, trying to find what to say. He doesn’t want to bring up the real reason he’s leaving, so he says the next thing that comes to mind. “School! Gotta head off the school, ya know, don’t wanna be late.”

You look at him and say with a raised eyebrow, “Since when did you, Eddie Munson, care about going to school, let alone getting there on time?”

He smiles softly at your comment, knowing that you had a good point.

“I figured dealing with the third go around of this shit, I might actually want to try for once before I end up graduating with Henderson’s class.”

You laugh. You know you’d never let that happen, but it was funny to picture him and Dustin posing for a photo together with their cap and gowns on holding their diplomas.

“Well before you go, do you want some breakfast? I can fix you something real quick. I know the stuff they serve in the cafeteria isn’t the best.”

Growing more anxious the longer he stands there, Eddie shakes his head, “N-no thanks. As much as I would love to, I don’t have the time. Still have to run home and change out of this,” he gestures to his sweats, “and you know how long it takes to get my whole get up on. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I get there before the first bell rings.”

You try not to show a look of disappointment on your face. You wished he would stay a little longer, but you understood his reasons. If you were in his shoes, you’d want to do everything possible to make sure you didn’t have to repeat your senior year again too.

“Oh, well, I’ve got to start getting ready for work in a few anyway, so no biggie. Give me a call though afterwards, yeah? I’ll be back home this evening, probably around six.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a slight nod and walks out the door. Driving off in his van, he makes his way back home. Once there, he heads to his room and spots the camcorder still sitting in the same spot he left it. He really did plan on going to school, but after seeing that and being reminded once again how all of this got started, he decided to stay home. There was no way he could focus on any of his classes after that.

You started getting ready for work not long after Eddie left. Taking a quick shower yourself and changing into your uniform. You pulled your hair back to keep it out of your face and applied a light, natural makeup look. You weren’t one to really wear makeup to begin with, but being a waitress, it seemed to help get you better tips so you didn’t mind having to wear it while you were at work.

You worked at a small diner right on the edge of town, only a 15 minute drive from your place. It wasn’t the best job, but it paid the bills. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, you loved your coworkers and got along well with the regulars you had, but being on your feet for hours on end for most days of the week was exhausting.

Your work day was the same as always. A group of older gentlemen would always come in early for some breakfast which usually consisted of biscuits and gravy all while talking for hours, getting refill after refill of coffee. You gained a few more customers when lunch rush hit, but things never picked up until it came closer to dinner time. You’d always get busy around then, mainly having truckers stop by for a good hot meal after being on the road all day. You didn’t mind though, you loved hearing the stories they’d tell about the places they’ve been and things they’ve seen. It always helped make the work day go by a little faster.

When your shift came to an end, you made your way back home. Feet aching from the day, all you wanted was to get out of these clothes and go to bed. You didn’t even think about the fact that Eddie said he would call. All that was on your mind now was getting some much needed rest.

When Tuesday had came and gone and still no word from him, you started to wonder why Eddie hasn’t been back over or called. You didn’t really pay much mind to it, thinking he must’ve been exhausted like you were last night after playing his gig at the Hideout with the Corroded Coffin boys.

Wednesday was a different story though. That evening, you made your way over to Family Video to pick out movies for the sleepover this weekend. It was supposed to be at Eddie’s place this time, but after not hearing from him for days, you weren’t sure if he even wanted to have it. You walk in and was greeted by Robin who stood at the front counter.

“Hey, y/n! Picking out more movies for you and Eddie this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you say in an unsure tone, “I guess I am.”

“You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sigh and start to explain everything to her. Just the part of not hearing from Eddie in a while, she didn’t need to know the rest and you still hadn’t even talked about it with Eddie himself. It would feel wrong to discuss those things with another person before him, even if Robin was one of your closest friends.

“It’s just, I don’t know. I’m not sure if he wants to have the sleepover this weekend. After he left my place Monday morning for school, I haven’t heard from him since. I figured maybe he was tired from his gig last night, but I still haven’t heard anything from him today either. It’s just weird not seeing or hearing from him, ya know? He’s never done this before.”

“Wait, you said he left Monday morning for school?” She asks and you give her a nod. “Eddie wasn’t at school Monday. Like at all.”

“What?” You looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

Not at school? What does she mean not at school? Why would he say that’s why he had to leave your place so early and then not go? Maybe he was late getting there and she just didn’t see him.

Robin went on to explain, “Yeah. He borrowed my biology notes and was supposed to give them back to me at lunch, but he wasn’t there. I asked the guys at the Hellfire table if they’d seen him but they said he never showed up that morning.”

What the hell? Why didn’t he go? More importantly, why did he lie to you about going in the first place? Your blood started to boil at the thought of him lying to you. You had been friends forever, why would he feel the need to lie? You explained to Robin that you had to go, not getting the movies you had planned on picking up. You needed to get home to think about some things. What the fuck was Eddie’s problem?

Thursday evening rolled around and still no word. You finally decided to give him a call instead of waiting for him. You knew he should be home from school right now, if he even went this time, and he didn’t have band practice or anything like that. You reach for the phone and dial his number. After a few rings, a mans voice spoke on the line.

“Hello?” Wayne. You didn’t think he’d be home right now. He must’ve been getting ready to leave for work when you called.

“Hey, Uncle Wayne, is Eddie around?” You ask.

Wayne looks over at Eddie standing in the living room, signaling for him to say that he wasn’t there and couldn’t talk.

Wayne sighs before answering, “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. He’s not here at the moment. I could take a message for him if you’d like though.”

There it was, another lie. Now he’s even getting other people to do it for him? Unbelievable.

“Just tell him to give me a call when he gets a chance, okay?” You tried to not sound frustrated, but Wayne could tell you were upset.

“Will do.” He hangs up the phone and looks up at Eddie once again.

“Boy, I don’t know what the hell is going on between you two, but whatever it is, not talking to her about it isn’t going to solve the problem.”

Eddie looks down at his feet, embarrassed that Wayne is lecturing him over something that he should’ve already taken care of.

“I know, Wayne, it’s just..” he tries to think of the best way to explain this to his uncle without having to go further into detail about it all, “things are just a bit..complicated right now, okay? I promise I’ll talk to her soon. I just need some time to think about things.”

Wayne takes the hint that Eddie doesn’t want to get into the subject of what’s going on and gives him a sympathetic look. Not really knowing what it was that was making things complicated between you both, but knew whatever it may be was causing his boy to be in misery.

Grabbing his jacket and getting ready to head out the door, he turns and with a sigh he says to Eddie, “Well, whatever it is, you guys have been friends all your lives. You’ll be able to get through it, okay? Don’t sweat it, kid.”

And with that he heads out the door, leaving Eddie to stew in his own thoughts about everything.

You on the other hand, were pissed. Outraged. Angry.

How could he lie to you like that? Why would he even do such a thing? And then ignore your call when you finally reach out to him?

No, you weren’t gonna have it. Eddie was going to talk to you face to face about this whether he liked it or not. It was something that needed to be done, and you knew exactly when to do it.

It was finally Friday, you had just finished your shift at work and was heading home to change and shower. Eddie was making his way over to the high school to start setting up for his Hellfire campaign. You knew if he wasn’t going to come to you and talk about things, you’d have to go to him. And that’s exactly what you planned on doing. You knew he wouldn’t miss a Hellfire meeting no matter what, so he would definitely be there. He wouldn’t be able to hide from you no longer.

You arrived at the high school and made your way to the room where the boys would be at. As you got closer to the door, you could hear them screaming at one another. Most likely over something that just happened during the campaign. You then heard a familiar sound. One that usually filled you with joy, but this time it just made you fill up with more rage than you already had.

Eddie’s laugh.

It pissed you off to no end hearing it. Hearing him having a good time, as if nothing was wrong. As if he hasn’t been avoiding you like the plague all week.

Without any hesitation, you burst through the door. The room falls silent as everyone looks over to see who interrupted them in the middle of their campaign. When Eddie’s eyes finally met yours, he could see how upset you were.

“Oh shit.”, He whispers to himself.

You march your way over where he was, sat on his throne, and you point your finger at his face.

“Where the hell have you been? Hm?”

Before Eddie has a chance to say anything, you continue on with your rant.

“All week! You haven’t called or stopped by to see me all fucking week! You never do that. Ever. We have been best friends forever and now suddenly, without warning you decide to just disappear? What the hell is your problem? Why have you been ignoring me?”

Eddie sat there, speechless and paralyzed from shock. He wasn’t expecting you to just show up randomly. He thought he would have more time to think over things before talking to you. He also didn’t expect to be having this conversation in front of the entire Hellfire Club, either.

“Say something!” You yell at him. Still, Eddie can’t find the words. Mouth moving as if he wants to say something but nothing comes out. You were mad before, but now standing here having him just stare at you not saying a word, it sends you over the edge.

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You spewed hatred towards him. “I can not believe after everything you did to me this weekend, you have the fucking audacity to not only ignore me and my calls, but blatantly lie to my face and have Wayne lie for you too. I already know you didn’t go to school Monday, Robin confirmed it for me. I seriously can’t believe you right now!”

You were fuming and after a few seconds of Eddie still not saying a word, you look at him and reach your hand out.

“Give me my key.”

“W-what?” Eddie finally is able to breathe out a word, and of course, it’s not what you wanted to hear.

“You heard me…Give. me. my. key.”

When he doesn’t move to give it, you yell again, still beyond frustrated with him.

“NOW!”

With trembling hands, Eddie reaches for it. He slowly takes the spare key to your apartment off the key ring and places it in your hand. You walk back over to the door, turning to him one last time before you leave.

“Don’t bother calling or coming over anymore. Not until you actually grow the fuck up for once. Until then, I’m done. I don’t need to put up with you and all of your bullshit, especially not after what happened.”

You slam the door shut, leaving the boys there in silence. Walking back out of the school, you feel hot tears running down your face. In this moment, you could care less. You just wanted to go home and forget about everything that has happened this past week.

Eddie is left sitting there, staring at the door trying to hold back the tears in his eyes that are fighting to spill over the edge. Gareth is the first one to break the silence.

“Dude, I don’t know what you did” he says looking away from the door and back over to Eddie, “but whatever it was, you really fucked up.”

Still not saying a word, Eddie thought to himself.

He really did fuck up this time.

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[sweetlittlegingy]

Better Man

✦Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother

✦Word Count: 6.7K

✦Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mentions of SA (previous relationship), self-hate, shitty schools, bullying, possible thoughts of suicide (on explicitly stated). Please let me know if I missed something.

✦A/n: Repost, the original is no longer showing up for me. I’m not sure what happened, if your seeing double I apologize.

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The incessant buzzing coming from your pocket continues, as you listen to Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates go over mission plans. Attentively listening and marking down any changes that need to be made to the paperwork.

As the admirals Administrative Service Manager, you held the responsibility of keeping all things “Top Gun” in order: including incoming pilots, flight schedules, and the newly permanent Dagger Squadron.

You subduedly shift silencing the buzzing, again focusing on Cyclone and Warlock.

“I want a new set of recruits coming in, with Maverick training them.” Cyclone gives you a pointed look. “I want him to be on board by the end of the week. You both, can go over applicates and find those best fitted.”

You silently nodded, jotting down that you need to draft a letter for Mav and get it to him before Wednesday. 

 “With the success of the Uranium Mission, DC is going to want to see what else the Dagger Squadron can do. I want them flying new drills and layouts every day. Draft up a few different sets of flight plans, get them on my desk by Wednesday morning.”

“Of course, sir. Two days will be more than enough time to draft up three or four, and I will have a handful more done by next Monday.” You trail off as your phone starts buzzing again.

Pausing to grab it while Cyclone and Warlock keep chatting, you realize that it’s Mathews school calling. Raising your hand in a silent gesture, you glance up and ask if you can be excused for a moment. To which Cyclone nods, signaling to the hallway.

Rising up, you not so slowly, make your way to the door and press answer. Miss Clarks voice rings through your phone, telling you once again that Mathew has been called to the office.

“Miss Benjamin, you need to come in. Principle Davis wants to talk to you immediately. Mathew is fine, though he has been placed in the corner and will not be allowed recess time.” She mutters harshly.

You slowly shake your head and lean up against the wall, “What happened?” you question. Waiting for a response that doesn’t come. “I know that Mathew is not the only child at fault here. So, I’m going to ask again, what happened?”

You know that your sweet Mathew would never hurt someone without probably cause, and even then, it’s unlikely. Though this is the first call you’ve received from the school, you’ve been in three other times for words with the principal. Discussing another upper-class student that had been picking on Mathew.

The same excuse being thrown in your face that, none of the teachers saw the bullying and that Mathew was lying. Though the last time, Mathew told you that the other boy had pushed him and scrapped his knees. Markings on his knees, you saw during bath time, that night confirmed that he had been pushed.

Each visit you had, the school ignored you and claimed you to be an overprotective mother.

“Mathew hit another boy, Miss Benjamin.”

The statement shocks you at first, but then you question why Mathew hit him.

“Well Mathew says that he was hit first, but no one saw it.”

“You’re telling me, that my son was hit, then defended himself, and you didn’t think to lead the conversation with that information.”

Pushing off the wall you start to make your way to your office. “I will be there in 20 minutes.” Grabbing your purse, leaving the paperwork knowing that you will be coming back to the office enviably.

“Also, Miss Clark,” your voice steadily rises. “Get my child out of the damn corner.” You all but yell before hanging up on the woman.

Stepping out of your office and running into Lt. Bradshaw, you bounce off him. He grabs your arms steadying you, as you apologize.

 “You okay there, Y/N” He questions quickly realizing how stressed you are.

You can feel the frustration seeping from your bones, tears lining your eyes. Working to steady your breathing, in any possible way to avoid crying.

A quick smile, that is in no way real, paints your lips, “Yes Bradley, I just need to go the Maty’s school.” Checking your purse, you make sure that you have your keys. “Can you do me a favor though?” Glancing up you see him intently listening, as if they would be orders from Commander Kazansky himself.

“I’m bringing Maty back here, I’ve got paperwork to finish, but I need someone to watch the munchkin.”

You pick at your nails, hating that you would have to ask for help. Though Amelia is still in class and Penny was deep cleaning the Hard Deck, so you had no one to ask.

“I know you guys are probably really busy, but could he hang out with you and Jake for a bit. He loves Uncle Roos, and I think that after today, getting to see the planes would cheer him up.” You add quietly that you understand if not, that you would figure it out.

“Y/N/N of course, I’m always available to hang with the little man. I’m free for the rest of the day actual.” He looks down sheepishly, “I was coming to tell you that a few of the plane’s radars were messing up, and that we would be down for a couple days.”

Taking a deep breathe, adding one more thing to your to-do list. You know that plane electronics can’t be helped, and that it should be a relatively easy fix. It just feels like so much more, added to your near melting brain.

You tell him that you’ll handle it, while walking together towards Cyclones office. Stepping in to get the two admirals’ attention, you let them know that you are taking your lunch now and will be back before one. They assure you that you are fine and that they trust you to get your job done, without them hounding on you.

Going to leave, Bradley follows you out. You head for your car, while he heads towards the east hanger. Though before he gets too far you, call back to him.

“B… Don’t tell Jake I was crying. Please… I don’t want to bother him.” You hold your hand up, blocking the glare of the sun on your face. “It was silly of me to cry anyway.”

The look he gives you clearly shows that he wants to comment on you saying that your emotions are silly, but he just nods an okay.

“Thanks B.” Thankful that he understands, you turn as he waves goodbye. Climbing in your car, for the 15-minute drive to Mathew’s school that will inevitably end in tears and a migraine.

Pulling up to the school, you wipe at your eyes. Trying to get the redness to go away, or at least look like you haven’t spent the last 15 minutes anger crying. The puffiness of your cheeks is a dead given away that something is wrong, though you hope that its subtle enough that Mathew won’t notice.

Your sweet baby was the most empathic and observant child you had even seen. A blessing and a curse to you both. In one way he was kind and loving and yet in another, much less helpful way, he noticed when anything hurt or upset you. Slowly becoming the protector of his momma, and carrying a load on his shoulders far heavier than any five-year-old should.

He was the light of your life and the only good thing that your ex gave you. Though you’d taken to claiming that your ex had no part in making Mathew. He was too kind to have any part of your ex in his DNA.

You were just thankful that he was the spitting image of you, and hadn’t been around his “father” long enough to pick up any traits. With your Y/H/C and the exact shade of skin tone, there was no denying he was your mini-me.

His eyes though, oddly enough were the exact same shade of green as Jakes. Something that everyone in your life liked to point out. Often making comments, that if they hadn’t known you like they did, “They would assume that Jake was the father.”

A thought that you wished had been true. Jake was wonderful with Mathew, and an amazing role model for him. Though you had only been official together for five months, Jake was always working to show you how much you both meant to him.

That alone was a hard enough concept to understand, when the only relationship you’d ever been in was the complete opposite.

Your ex-Adam had ruined your views on relationships, the five years you were together were some of the hardest you’d ever been through. Finally getting out just before Mathew turned three.

Adam had gotten handsy with you in front of Mathew, had pushed you to your breaking point and left you on the floor like an empty husk.

You still hate yourself for that night, because of you Mathew was in therapy once a week with nightmares. Recounting memories, that a then 2-and-a-half-year-old, shouldn’t remember.

It was your biggest regret, letting him see everything that happened.

The experience wasn’t something you talked about, finding that therapy only made it worse. Pushing the memories away and burying it in a hidden chest, at the back of your mind.

Gathering your purse, you move to get out of the car.

When you notice a missed call and text from Jake, “Hey darlin’ missing you. Rooster said you were picking up Maty early, everything okay?”

You quickly type back, that you just got to the school and would text him when you were back on base. Adding that you missed him as well, which caused a small smile to cross your lips.

Walking into the front doors, you immediately head to the office. Giving yourself a mini pep-talk in preparation for Principal Davis, and his ever-sexist comments.

Your eyes immediately go to Miss. Clark, who wears the lowest cut shirt that you’ve ever seen in an elementary school. Her head pops up from typing, as she hears the low click of your heels on the tile.

Your gaze is cast upon her, one that should put her 6-feet under.

“Where is Mathew?” You question, a harsh bite in your tone.

To which she studders out that they placed him in an extra room and told him to stay. The action should surprise you, but you’ve learned that this school clearly has lower morals and standards.

You walk straight passed her desk, without another word and push into the extra room. If it could even be called that, only the size of a “oversized” closet at best. The temperature change doesn’t go unnoticed.

There you see Maty, head resting on a table, as tiny shudders rack through his body. Rushing to his side, you softly go to cradle his small body. Falling to the floor on your knees, as a soft Momma falls from his lips.

Gently “shh”ing and rocking his body back and forth, like you did when he was a baby.  As he quiets down you look into his tear-stained face, and your heart breaks a bit more.

“Sweet bubba, it’s okay. I got you, it’s okay.” His tears slowly turn into gentle whimpers.

Not wanting to upset him anymore, but knowing that you have to ask him questions before you see Davis.

“Darling, what happened? Are you hurt?” your eyes gently rank over his form, noticing how he hold his tummy.

“They belly flopped me momma.”

Your questioning gaze is enough that Mathew pulls up his shirt and you see a bright red mark across his belly. Anger seeps from you and your struggle to hid it behind a smile. Not wanting him to see how upset you are.

Rising up you grab his backpack and carry Mathew out into the main office.

Your voice snaps across the office, stilling Miss Clarks typing fingers.

“Miss Clark, I am going to be checking Mathew out. I am also going to have a few words with Principal Davis, and I suggest you take Mathew out into the hallway to look at the new mural being painted.” Your tone leaves no room for suggestion.

You set Maty down and give him a little wink, pushing him to hallway as Miss Clark follows. You turn sharply and stare straight at the closed door that hasn’t moved once since you’d arrived. Pacing to the door you knock and walk in without waiting for an answer. If he wants to lack human decency with your child, then you can do the same.

Your sudden entrance startles the middle-aged man, jolting him from his chair and the nap he seemed to be taking.

His lingering eyes rake up and down your form, as a sleazy smile forms on his face. The look makes you shudder, awaking distant memories and feelings.

He gets up to make a move for you, “Miss Benjamin, I’m glad you could make it. Please sit.”

You state that you’d rather stand, though he doesn’t listen and makes a motion for you. His hand moves to your lower back, in an unwelcomed gesture. Brushing his hand off, you glare at the hand.

“You see Miss Benjamin, Mathew is a troubled boy and needs handled.”

The word “handled” makes your skin crawl as you listen.

“He doesn’t listen and clearly has no male role model, from the ringless finger I can see.” You bite your tongue as he moves to sit on his desk, directly in front of you.

“Now I think that we,” he motions to the both of you, “can work on this. Fix his attitude and make him into a child, someone would actually want. One that not picking fights for attention, especially ones with older children he can’t beat.” He finishes with a chuckle.

The steam must be rising from you, the anger that is completely incasing your body feels like you might set the whole world on fire.

As you rise from your chair, words laced with venom drip from your tongue ready to kill, meteorically and literally.

“You have no right to comment on my child and how he is raised. I think it best if you step off your damn high horse, before I knock you off it.” Your finger jabs at his chest. “You should be damn happy I’m not reporting you to the school board, for neglect and harassment.”

You stand up, ready to be out of his presence.

“Mathew will be pulled from the school; I’m absolutely done with you and everyone in this school.” Pulling the door open you look back at him, “If anything comes from the assault done to my son’s stomach, whether it be lasting pain or marks….. I will, fucking ruin you.”

With that you leave, shaking at the audacity of the man. How he touched you, insinuated that Mathew needed fixed, and most of all the absolute lack of care, that he should have had for both children in the situation.

The other child that Mathew hit was nowhere in sight and clearly didn’t get in trouble. You know that hitting isn’t the answer, but Mathew was defending himself against a bigger child. This whole situation was handled poorly, as it has been every other time you’ve came in for bullying. This was the final straw and you’re done.

You gasp as you make your way to grab Mathew from Miss Clark, barely able to keep the tears at bay. Gently buckling Maty up into his car seat, you place a kiss on his forehead as he wipes a tear from your cheek.

“Don’t be sad momma.”

You mutter an I love you and climb back into your seat, ready to never see that school again.

Your tears don’t go unnoticed by the three men as you pull back up to your office. Jake, Robert, and Bradley all exchange looks as you park and get out of the car. You avoid their gazes as you get Mathew out of the car.

“Uncle Roo, can we look at the planes?” Mathew yells to the men as he notices them, a massive smile forming, and his horrible day forgotten.

“Yeah buddy, all the planes. Bob even said he’d let you be Nat’s new WSO.” Bradley laughs and then gives a knowing look to Jake.

“Your Momma and Jake are gonna go pack up her work for the day, then get you a bag ready to have a sleep over with me.”

You go to comment, but Jake steps forward. Wrapping his arm around your waist, “Cyclone already knows darlin’. You and me are gonna work on flight plans at home, then have a nice relaxing night.” He finishes with a loving kiss on your cheek, that you can’t help but to lean into.

Your body relaxes in his embrace, dropping your shoulders you lean father into his touch. Craving it like a warm blanket, that you unwillingly want to admit, you need.

Mathew is bouncing at the thought of a sleepover and asks Bob if he is coming too, to which he replies of course. The trio goes to turn away, though not before Maty comes rushes back, giving you and Jake hugs.

“Love you momma. Love you Jake.” He says it so childlike that you can’t help, and be a tad envious. Jake quickly lifts Mathew and gives him tickle, telling him to listen to his uncles. Before setting him down and brushing a kiss onto the top of his head.

“I love you too, buddy.”

You watch as Maty walks off, relaxing knowing that he is feeling better and knowing that if he showed the slightest sign of discomfort Bradley would call. You rest your head gently against Jake’s chest, taking a few deep breathes and silently hold yourself together.

His arm slips from your waist, up to cradle the side of your face making you look into his eyes. A green so deep that you could get lost in, if you only let yourself.

“Darlin’”

You quietly shake your head in protest, knowing that it he asks you might break down.

The tears built around the edge of your eyes, and you quickly cast your face down. Unwilling to let him see you break.

 To be another hassle in his life.

A mess, that he would realize wasn’t worth the work.

Though he gently kisses your forehead, letting you be for now and pulls you towards the building.

Hands clasped tightly together, like he’s afraid to lose you through the cracks within your broken heart.

Jake stays by your side as you make your way through the building and to your office. Only letting go of your hand, so that you can grab your laptop and paperwork. You slowly pack everything that you need into a tote, your movements lagging.

Feeling completely drained and over the day. You can feel yourself pulling back into a shell, unsure how to function with another person right now.

You weren’t used to people helping when you had a hard day, or break down. Only that you weren’t supposed to show your emotions, because if you did it would end so much worse.

A screaming match, about how inconsiderate it was that you let your mood seep into other people’s lives. That if you could just fucking smile for once, then maybe people would like you.

The thought makes you look to Jake and give him a fake smile, in hopes that he doesn’t realize how much it hurts.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a reassuring kiss on the cheek and takes the tote from you, to carry out to the car.

“Where are your keys darlin’?”

He questions, replying before you can protest.

“I want to drive sweets, okay. I want to take care of you.”

Worry clouds your brain, but you’re too tired to make a fuss.

“Thank you” you say as you place them in his out reached hand.

“Always baby.” He states it so matter a factly that your heart flutters. The wink that follows, makes it skip a beat.

The drive home is fast, your wandering mind lost in thought. Jakes hand rests steady against your thigh, a gently rubbing motion to sooth you.

Walking up into your quaint little beach house, the final bit of anxiety leaves your body. Finding comfort in being home, in your safe space. Jake silently follows you up the steps and locks the door once you’re both inside.

Your body’s frozen; you stand quietly in the hallway, unsure of what to do. Jakes comes up to rest behind you, carefully wrapping you in his arms. Afraid that the slightest touch will send you spiraling.

“Why don’t you go take a nice shower sweets? Relax, decompress and I will make you some tea for after your done.”

You squeeze his hands in a silent thank you and head to the bathroom.

Your face looks tired and broken, and as you stare at your reflection, those tears that you worked so hard to hold in fall. You switch on the shower, to silence the sobs that are wreaking havoc upon your mind and body.

You shed your clothes and step into the burning water, in hopes to erase the feeling of Davis’ hands on you.

Memories of past and present blend together, making it difficult to ground yourself, to know that you’re safe.

Davis’ hand, becomes HIS hands on you. A ringing in your ears echoes a distant memory of the screams that were ripped from your body.

The incident today, shattered your tough girl façade. The box that you worked so hard to bury, ripped up, meant to consume everything in its path.

Both of their hand blending into one, pushing on the small of your back.

Down farther, suffocating and screaming out at the same time.

Your back crashes against the tile walls, as you slip to the floor. Memories flashing through your mind; the way you yelled stop and how you begged Maty to look away. His sweet baby eyes, watching as you were ripped apart.

You should have worked harder to make him stop.

To make sure Mathew couldn’t see or hear.

But you didn’t.

You failed him in that moment

And you hate yourself for it.

A sudden slam jolts you from your thoughts, and a worried Jake is standing there. Infront of the broken in door, chest heaving and wild-eyed. He falls to his knees as a broken sob, escapes your lips.

Climbing into the shower, fully clothed, to hold on to your trembling body. It’s only then that you notice the water is freezing and that you must have lost track of time.

He mutters sweet nothings into your ear, softly creasing your back. He shifts your body momentarily way from his chest, to turn of the stream of cold water. Shifting back, you clutch onto his shirt. Clinging to the warmth that radiates off him, and the feeling of safety that you can always find in his embrace.

Breathing in the familiar smell of jet fuel mixed with sandalwood and black pepper, your mind fights to regain clarity. That you are home, safe in Jakes arms.

Not caring what horrible outcome awaits you once you explain your panic attack.

Once he finally realizes out how damaged you are.

You won’t blame him, if you could get away from yourself you’d run too.

Though, for this moment you need him. To be able to savor this moment and memorize it for once you’ve lost it. Tuck it away deep within your soul, a memory that a one point he loved you.

He’s never said it, but you’d like to think that he does. At least loves the version of you that is still nice and shiny. He couldn’t ever love the one that’s real, broken, and damaged beyond repair. How could anyone love something so pitiful.

Pulling back, the words fall from your mouth before you can even think to stop them.

The harsh truth.

“I wasn’t enough Jake.” A gasp falls from your mouth, more tears crash down your face.

“I should have tried harder. To stop Adam. To protect Maty. To make the school listen.” Your head shakes in silent disappointment in yourself.

“I could have been better, for Maty, for you.”

“But I failed, and I’m just so tired of trying.”

Your head lays resting against Jake’s chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart. Trying to slow your gasping breaths. His hand rests on the back of your head, gently rocking the both of you.

“I’m so tired of doing it alone.” You pull away from him, to look in his eyes as you lay the truth of your relationship out.

“But it’s not your job and I can’t push that on you. You shouldn’t have to come in and take care of a child that isn’t yours.”

You can see Jake silently shaking his head, as tears start to fall from his eyes.

“I’m just so angry. At how broken and lonely I feel. How I’ve pushed you away, because I’m scared of losing you.” Words continue to fall from your lips, until Jake gentle grabs your face.

He takes a shuddered breath in, his voice cracking slightly.

“Y/F/N look at me.”

Your tear-stained eye stare at each other, a plea asking you to listen.

The hand cradling your face, settles your trembling lip. His other hand comes up to push your soaked hair out of your face. His body heat warms you, and his eyes show nothing but pure love and heartbreak. Like seeing you in so much pain is slowly breaking his heart too.

Your heart aches as you see the tears streaming down his face, gently you reach a shaking hand up to cup his cheek. His hand rises to cradle the one covering his cheek, both your foreheads fall together.

“Darlin’ let me make one thing clear, you and Mathew are the best damn thing that has ever happen to me. From the moment I met you, before we ever got together, I knew I wanted you.”

His words sound foreign to your ears, and you mind sits telling you that he’s lying. But his eyes, the green that you’re in love with, they hold such truth, and you chose to believe he’s not lying.

“Come on, let get you dressed, and we can talk.” He stands with ease, carrying your form as if you were as light as air. “I think we’re both gonna need that cup of tea to warm up. Unless you wanna share body heat, sweets.”

He gives you a wink and you can’t stop the girlish giggles that abrupt from you. The way that he can brighten your mood with the smallest gestures, still amazes you.

“There’s my girl.”

Dressed in fuzzy socks and one of Jake’s old navy shirts, you curl up on the couch as Jake reheats the water for your tea. He comes around the corner moments later with two cups of tea; chamomile for you, his momma always told him it was calming, and peppermint for him.

It reminded him of Christmas, the one-time when everyone in his family got along. The yearly tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve at mid-night, then having a family dinner Christmas night. A joyous atmosphere filled the house, as his mother baked and sisters hand pick which Christmas records to play.

It was a tradition that he hoped to start with you and Mathew, creating your own rendition of the family Christmas.

The sweatpants hang low on his hips, your eyes roam over his torso slowly. Taking in each hard line and the tan skin, your eyes slowly make it up to his face and a cocky smile rests on his lips.

“Like what you see darlin’”

A blush covers your cheeks as you realize that you’ve been caught, once again.

“You’re just so pretty.” You reply, a matching blush covers his cheeks. Happy that you got the desired reaction out of him.

He settles into the seat beside you, handing you your tea, and brushing a gentle kiss against your brow. He pulls your covered feet to rest in his lap and covers you both up with a blanket.

He gently strokes your calf and takes a sip of tea, before asking you what happened today.

So, you start for the beginning. Telling him about your meeting this morning and how the school called. Relaying to him that they put Mathew in a freezing room and how he was just defending himself.

“It was that 2nd grader, Jake. The one that’s been picking on him, Thomas, Timmy…”

“Toby, Darlin’” Jake answers for you, causing your head to snap up in silent questioning.

“Maty, he brought him up to me the other day. I didn’t mention it, well because” he rubs the back of his neck and looks down sheepishly. “I may have told him… that if Toby touched him, they he was allowed to defend himself.”

A smile graces your face, realizing how much he carries about Mathew.

“Then I showed him how to throw a punch.”

With that a full laugh falls from your lips, surprising Jake completely. He was prepared to get his butt chewed, but here you are in a fit of laughter.

“I’m sorry..” You struggle to catch your breath. “It’s just, I’ve been wanting to knock that second grader on his ass sense he pushed Maty.”

Jake releases a blusterous laugh, shaking his head, and a teasing smile directed at you.

You sink farther into the couch and talk a large sip of your tea. Your body finally relaxing, causing your shoulders to drop and your legs to stretch farther into Jakes lap.

You continue on, telling him how Miss Clark wasn’t helpful and how your pretty positive the Principal Davis was sleeping before you barged into his office.

The pause you take to collect your thoughts and calm your racing mind, doesn’t go unnoticed. Though Jake patiently waits, giving you time, and when you’ve taken a few deep breaths Jake motions you to go on.

Blowing out a puff of air, you calm the rage that slowly rises in you from thinking about Principal Davis.

“He’s just horrible Jake. Every time I’ve came to him about Toby or the other boys, he called me overprotective, and said that Mathew is the child at fault.”

His hand remains on your calf, rubbing. You’re not sure if it’s to sooth you or him.

“Then he stood there and implied that he and I could “work together”” you motion quotations with your hands, “to fix the problem. That he clearly didn’t have a male role model, and my ringless finger was the proving point.”

His hand only stops for a moment when you say ringless, but it’s long enough that you notice his pause.  

“The man is so damn aggravating.”

You blow out a breath of air, moving the now partially dry hair that fell across your face. Jake reaches up and moves the strand behind your ear, his hand then falling to cress your cheek before you continue.

“He’s got entitlement issues and has no respect for personal space.” The words rush out of your mouth, before you realize how they might affect Jake.

“The way his hands felt… God, they just made my skin crawl. It was just too much.”

His hand stills on your leg completely and you can feel his body transform; from your soft and gentle Jake to Hangman, the man that had look death in the eyes and laughed.

You look up and his face is void of all emotions, but anger.

“Darlin’ I need you to be very clear with me.” his voice is laced with such venom, that you would be terrified of him, if you couldn’t still see the gentleness in his eyes.

“Are you telling me that Davis touched you?”

You nod, ashamed of the action “He only touched my lower back, and I shouldn’t make it into such a big deal, but it just felt wrong.”

Jake stares back at you with a hardness you’ve never seen.

“Y/N no one is ever, allowed to touch you without your permission. I don’t care what the circumstances are, or what you’ve been told in the past.” He blows out a shuddered breath.

“Baby I am not even allowed to touch you, without your permission.” Both his hands are now holding up your face, making sure you look at him. “Do you understand that?  

The tears that fill your eyes are answer enough.

He knew enough of your past, to know what little value you had for yourself.

Jake had woken up with Mathew on nights that he’d spent the night, the young boy crying out after a nightmare. In the beginning Jake just wanted to give you a break and let you sleep, but he soon realized that Maty needed the extra time with him as well. The little boy had opened up to Jake, telling him about his dreams and memories. Explaining that he couldn’t tell momma, because it made you cry.

Those nights lying awake with Mathew, while rubbing his back to sooth him and help him fall asleep, were some of Jakes most treasured moments. The need to take care Maty and be the stable father-figure in his life, continuously grew. To the point that Jake no longer saw a life without you and his little boy.

You didn’t have to explicitly tell Jake what you had went through, he knew enough and if you ever changed your mind, he would listen. Grateful that you wanted to share that part of you, but it wouldn’t be something he pushed.

No, he would just continuously keep working to show you your worth and how much he loved you. He hadn’t told you yet how much he loved you, to afraid to scare you off, but he knew that you were it for him the first time that he met you.

Papers strewn around the floor in your office, while you sat in the middle, contemplating different flight tracks and patterns. You hadn’t realized he’d come into your office, until he made a coughing sound to gain your attention.

You looked at him with such seriousness, mad at him for interrupting your work and when he asked you where the admiral was, you glanced at your watch before muttering “lunch” at him like he was a complete idiot.

He knew then that you were everything that he wanted; dedicated to your work, beautiful, and wouldn’t put up with his shit. Mathew was an added bonus, one that he wouldn’t change for all the money in the world.

“Darlin’, you and Mathew are the most precious and important people in my life. I will do anything and everything to make you realized how loved you are.”

You mouth dropped up, sitting in stunned silence.

“You love me? You love us?”

The look you give him, makes him chuckle and run a hand through his hair.

“Sweets you are one of the smartest women that I’ve ever met, but how in the world have you not seen that I have been, head over heels in love with you, since the first time we met?” His Texas accent rings clear in your ear. Laying on heavy whenever he calls you sweets.

“Jake, the first time we met was three and a half years ago. When I first started working on base?” The questioning tone you reply with is clear as day.

“Yeah, I know.”

“We just started dating 10 months ago though?”

“Yeah, I spent a year and a half trying to take you out.”

A hand comes to rub at the back of his neck, as he looks away shyly in a way you’d never seen. Gone was your cocky, self-assured pilot, in his place, a boy that looked worried about getting the girl in high school.

“You know how much the guys made fun of me? Told me I was whipped, and I didn’t even have the girl yet.”

A blush covers your cheeks, as you realize just how oblivious you’d been. Though you can’t help but smile, your heart filling with hope and possibility.

“You don’t need to say it back..”

You cut him off before he can finish, pulling him down into a kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. You pour all of your pent-up emotions into the kiss, silently trying to communicate how much you love him.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to settle on his lap. As you pull away his hand settles on your cheek, eyes staring into the abyss that is your soul.

“Jacob Grant Seresin, I love you more than words can equivalate to. You are the man that I’ve wanted my whole, and never thought I was worthy of.”

More tears fall from your eyes, though these are pure happiness.

“Thank you for taking a chance on the mess that I am, and I’m sorry for making you wait for so long.” Your giggle at the end, breaks into full blown laughter as Jake tickles you. Pushing you down onto your back, he peppers kisses across your face.

“You should be darlin’, it was torture.” He gives you one last kiss “I’d do it a thousand time over though, as long as it for you.”

“My mess, my girl.”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Later that night:

“Thank you for helping me with the flight plans, I really didn’t need Cyclone on my ass.” You kiss Jakes waiting lips as you climb in bed for the night.

“Course darlin’”

He gently pulls you back to rest against his chest, peppering kisses on the top of your head. You can’t help but to snuggle deeper into him and the blankets.

“Also, I talk to Rooster and he’s going to bring Mathew to base in the morning. I figured he could hang out with the team. Then if you can get off a bit earlier, we could go by the school on base.”

You go to ask what he was up to.

But he quickly answers, “I called Bob’s wife Lacy, she is a teacher at the school, and she said that their kindergarten teacher is amazing. Also, that they would love to have us come by, and see if it was a good fit.”

You can’t help but be amazed. Wondering how you could have been so clueless and not seen the love that this amazing man has for you and Mathew.

“I love you, that sounds perfect. Thank you.”

Jake moves to shut of the bedside lamp, giving you a sweet kiss. Your lips melting together perfectly. You can feel yourself falling into unconsciousness, your body grateful to finally relax and welcomes the darkness.

Though before you can drift out you feel Jake shift around, nuzzling into your neck as his arm wrap securely around your waist. His body heat encompasses you, causes you to relax even more. Soft kisses are placed on your neck, little ones that you can barley feel.

“Darlin’ don’t think that I forgot about that jackass Davis.”

You stiffen up only slightly, though Jake continues his kisses. Falling just at your jaw line, his hands slide under your shirt and cress your stomach. His gentleness reassures you, and you chose to focus his moments more than his words.

“I don’t want you worrying.”

He places a kiss behind your ear,

“I’m just gonna have a talk with him.”

One on your cheek,

“Make sure he knows that you are mine, even without a ring on your finger.”

A soft fleeting kiss on the lips, that has you chasing his mouth as he pulls away. A cheeky smile stares down at you, before he gently grabs your left hand and kisses your finger.

A silent promise.

When you fall asleep, you can’t help but dream about that promise.

[dovkss]

could u do a uni professor aizawa and a student reader where she goes to a cafe that’s not well known sometimes and orders something and sits in the corner and just breaks down once in a while late at night (the cafe is 24/7). And on one of those nights her professor (aizawa) comes in and takes to her and tells her to let it all out on him and pretend she doesn’t know him. ❤️❤️

A+

word count: 2k

summary: he usually hates his students. what makes you so different?

warning: 18+; taboo relationships; teacher x student; masturbation; manipulation; age gap; kidnapping; noncon touching; strict professor aizawa; determined izuku

a/n: my hubbyyyy ! wanted to try a new writing format now that I’m back :) enjoy my luvvies <3 i'll proofread in the morning as alwaysss

Yandere! Professor Aizawa couldn't care any less about his students.

He is solely there to make sure they pass and keep it pushing.

But he doesn't make it easy for them either.

He's known on campus for having ridiculously high standards for his students, therefore he's a tough grader.

So when you showed up, you were no different from his other students.

Anxious whenever you stepped into his class. Worried that you'd maybe fail or do something he wouldn't approve of.

You made sure to not step out of line in any way. You'd never ask questions when you needed to, scared of being degraded. There were times when you even had to use the restroom but held it because you knew that if you stepped out for even a second, you'd miss plenty of information that he wouldn't be willing to repeat just for you.

His obsession (unbeknownst to him) began when he noticed that you often visited the cafe he did.

A small cafe that barely anybody he knew personally went to. It was a cozy, dimly lit cafe that nestled in a quiet corner of the city.

It was nearly always empty, with only a few patrons scattered about, absorbed in their own conversations and treats.

Most importantly; none of his students went there.

He purposely avoided going to places he knew his students went to in order to avoid small talk. He found it to be stress inducing.

It also gave him some peace and quiet. A chance for him to relax on the weekends.

Every Sunday, he would go in, order the same coffee, and sit down in the same corner booth by the same window. Usually fixated on a small notebook filled with incomprehensible scribbles.

His unruly black hair would be up in a ponytail, strands falling messily in front of his eyes.

Every Sunday, you would come in, order the same tea, and sit down in the booth across from him.

From what he saw, you never noticed him. Once your head was in your laptop, it never came out.

Whenever he would walk by your booth, he would see clearly what you were so focused on.

You were studying the material for his class.

He was surprised since majority of this students turn in work only a couple hours before the due date every Monday morning.

He hated rushed work.

But you took time out of your weekend to actually get things done.

He respected it.

Not long after, the sight of you became... delicate to him.

During tests he gave the class, he would sit behind his desk, appearing to be busy with a stack of papers.

His attention wasn't on the papers.

It was on you.

His diligent, hard-working student that sat in the middle of the classroom.

His favorite pastime was pretending to grade assignments when in reality he would steal glances at you. Gawking of your cuteness.

The way you bit your lip in concentration, or the subtle tap of your pen against the desk when deep in thought, he couldn't forget whenever you'd glance up at the clock and a hint of worry would cross your face as you realized time ticked away.—it all fascinated him.

So imagine how much he hated putting in your final grade for that test; A D.

That next Sunday at the cafe, you sat alone at the booth again. This time, you were just resting your head on your hand, forcing yourself to eat a whole bunch of pastries in an attempt to make yourself feel better.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the sheet of paper with the big D in the top corner in red ink.

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring the harsh feedback on the test you'd received not too long ago. The harsh reality of your impending failure in Professor Aizawa's class weighed heavily on your shoulders.

You bit your lip to stifle a sob, your breaths coming in uneven bursts. As the tears streamed down your cheeks, you barely noticed the figure approaching the table you were sitting at. It was none other than Professor Aizawa himself.

It was him. His appearance was difference, you almost didn't recognize him. You couldn't tell if it was from the fact that you sat so far away from him majority of the time, maybe you just weren't used to seeing him up close.

You'd never seen him with his hair out of his face either. The scar under his right eye made him look more intimidating than he already was. But he was still handsome.

"May I sit down?" he asked softly, his voice more comforting than you'd ever heard it in class.

You nodded, unable to trust your own voice. You quickly wiped your tears with the back of your hand and tried to hide the crumpled test paper, but it was too late. He'd already seen why you were in so much distress.

He settled into the chair across from your, his eyes fixed on your face. He was still very intense, but the way he spoke, you could tell that he was being nice.

"I thought you could use some company."

You attempted to smile, but it came out as a quiver of your lips. "Professor Aizawa, I... I don't know what to do. I'm on the verge of failing your class."

He leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "Failing is a part of learning, darling," he said, his voice carrying some tenderness. "It doesn't define your worth."

You nodded, your tears subsiding slightly as his words offered a glimmer of hope. "I'm just so embarrassed..." you admitted, your voice trembling.

He leaned back, his arms in his lap. He contemplated on reaching out and gently placing a hand on yours. He needed to know if your skin was warm and soft. "Don't be," he said. "I believe in your potential more than you know. You just need to focus on how you're going to rise from the defeat."

You looked into his eyes, your heart fluttering as you saw a depth of emotion you'd never expected to see from the man.

That vulnerable moment seemed to draw the two of you closer.

Whenever you struggled with any assignments, you wouldn't hesitate to approach Professor Aizawa for help.

Surprisingly,, he offered to tutor you outside of class hours. Your first study date being at the cafe of course.

Opposed from his usual style of teaching in the classroom, with you he would patiently explain the work until you were able to grasp it.

Weeks went by and the tutoring sessions became a regular occurrence. Aizawa's hard exterior cracked more little by little with every meeting.

You found yourself not only excelling in his class but also developing a bond with him.

Soon enough boundaries were broken between student and teacher when you found the interactions not stopping at academic matters.

You both shared interests in books, music, art, food. And naps.

One evening, after another successful session of studying, he suggested you both go to a local jazz club to unwind.

You agreed with a smile on your face.

He was thrilled at the thought of spending more time with you.

His little secret.

Sometimes he believed he was way too old to be crushing on some girl. Let alone a student of his.

But those thoughts didn't threaten to bother his mind when he was watching you. Nor when he was in his bed at night, his cock in his hand, pumping up and down to the thought of ruining you.

Fucking his load back into you when it leaks out while making you ride his big cock.

That's why he loved to sleep.

He loved to dream.

One afternoon, as you both strolled through a park, the leaves crunching beneath their feet, Aizawa finally acknowledged the truth he had been avoiding.

He'd fallen in love with you.

He knew what he was admitting to was wrong. He swore to himself that his students would never be anything more than just his students.

Why did you have to come into his life and ruin that?

But he couldn't lie to himself any longer.

You both sat on a bench, engrossed in an adorable conversation about your pet guinea pig back at home.

Unbeknownst to you, a male classmate, who'd been had been harboring a secret crush on you for some time, was watching you.

He was a little bit of a nerd, you couldn't lie. You had no interest in him, so you rejected him as politely as you could. He often watched you from afar, admiring your dedication and kindness.

Today, curiosity had gotten the better of him. He'd seen you and Aizawa from a distance, and unable to control his urge to know more, he approached you two, unaware of the true nature of your relationship with the older man.

"Hey!" Midoriya called out with a friendly smile, causing both you and Aizawa to look up in surprise.

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you greeted him awakrdly, "Hi, Deku. What brings you here?"

His smile widened as he approached. "I was just passing by and saw you."

Aizawa couldn't hide his annoyance. He had been enjoying a moment with you only for another student of his to come and ruin it. He shoud be more worried that he's being seen with you outside of class, but he was more bothered that the green-haired kid couldn't take a hint.

Nevertheless, he maintained his stoic demeanor.

You tried to defuse the tension by coming up with a lie. "Yeah, I was walking in the park and saw Professor Aizawa so I decided that instead of waiting till Monday, I could ask a question for an upcoming assignment..."

Aizawa nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. You were a terrible liar.

Midoriya took a seat beside you. "Oh, you could've asked me too, y'know! Do you still have my number?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much you should reveal. "Um, no, Deku-"

Aizawa's irritation grew, and he decided to steer the conversation "Midoriya," he started, "Shouldn't you be studying for that retake? You wouldn't want to have an F in my class, would you?"

Midoriya's eyes widened and he shook his head, bowing a few times. "Of course not, Sir! I'll be sure to not disappoint you!"

He excused himself, leaving you and Aizawa alone once more, but not after handing you a piece of paper with his number on it.

Aizawa knew he needed to act sooner than later.

Beneath his calm exterior, a dark obsession was slowly taking hold of his heart.

Aizawa’s initial admiration turned into something much more sinister when he found himself becoming possessive of you, unable to bear the thought of you being with anyone else.

He began to watch your every move, studying your interactions with other students and teachers.

With time, his actions became more extreme. He started to manipulate situations to ensure that he was always the one by your side.

Asking you to stay after class, keeping you out for longer than you’d hoped.

Out of seemingly nowhere, his obsession reached its peak.

The thought of you being away from him any longer, he finally made the decision to keep you.

He snuck into your dorm, his heart pounding as he’d never don’t anything like this before. But he trusted himself.

He didn’t pay to watch those kidnapping tutorial videos for nothing.

He picked the locked carefully and silently entered your room.

You were sleeping peacefully. He touched your hand and you were so warm.

Just like he expected.

His hands went up to caress your cheek, then you stirred. Your eyes fluttering open, only to be met with the sight of your professor looming over you.

Fear gripped your heart as you realized the danger you were in. You tried to scream, but he swiftly covered your mouth, his grip firm and unyielding.

He whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with affection.

“I really wish I could love you the normal way. But you’re gonna have to get used to… whatever this is.

“Now behave and I’ll let you keep that A+.”

You wished that was the least of your worries.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

grease is the word (b.r.b)

note: this is for @gretagerwigsmuse and @cottagecori who heard me say "bradley bradshaw as danny zuko" and then let me run wild with it. technically part of like father, like daughter but does not have to be read in the context of same mistakes at all

summary: Bradley gets the role of Danny Zuko in the school play. That's it, that's the thought.

warnings: swearing, a dash of angst, kissing

word count: 4.3k

“So I’m going to be in the school musical.” Bradley says, lifting himself up to sit on the kitchen counter. “We’re doing Grease, and they needed someone to play Danny Zuko-“

You choke on your fried rice. 

Slider pats you on the back as you croak out a “What?”

“You’ve never shown interest in theater before now.” Carole says with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah, well I’m friends with one of the assistant directors-“

“He means he has a crush on her.” Your Dad clarifies with a wink. A goofy grin appears on his face, his cheeks turning a dusty pink as he shrugs. 

“Maybe a little. Anyways, Janie is in my AP Euro class and asked if I could come play the piano for rehearsals. They didn’t have anyone audition for Danny and asked if I could read some of the lines and- well, I guess now I’m gonna be playing Danny.” 

The thought of Bradley in a leather jacket, his curls greased back, singing Greased Lightning- you could swoon. 

“Well, that’s exciting.” Carole says. “I’m excited to come see you. The show is early November, right?”

He nods as his Mom walks over to the calendar on the wall. “The 4th through the 6th.”

“We’ll be there.”

-

“So I heard your boyfriend is gonna be in the school musical.”

You sigh as you cringe, not even turning around to face the person you know is behind you. 

Arguably, Sienna was the person closest to you. You’d say she was your best friend, someone you spent the most time with.

“Whose boyfriend?”

And then there’s that. Sienna had a whole separate friend group from you, people she’d probably say were her best friends. 

Sienna slides into the desk next to you, turning to face the twins, Madison and Matt.

“Heard Bradshaw’s in the play.” Lexi says, sitting down at the desk opposite to you. 

“Her boyfriend.” Sienna says, throwing you a smirk. 

“He’s not- Shut up Sienna, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” You mumble, watching Bradley and Janie enter the classroom of your home room. 

“Ohhh, I see.” Sienna says, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she turns back in her seat.

“Do you want to come to the mall with us after school?” Madison asks, leaning behind you as Ben waves, sitting down behind Lexi.

“She can’t. She’s not supposed to be driving with people who don’t have their license.” Bradley says, sliding into the seat in front of you as he tugs off his backpack. 

“I have my permit.” Madison argues as her brother shoots a “No one asked you, Bradshaw.”

“Hey, your Dad’s deploying soon, right?” Ben whispers, scooting his desk closer to you. “How long?”

“Six weeks, supposedly.”

“You always gotta multiply it by two.” Sienna jokes.

“Or divide by half, if he gets himself injured again.” Bradley says, though he doesn’t turn to face the group. 

“I’m disregarding the fact that you even said anything.” 

“So… the mall?”

“She has to run lines with me, I need the extra practice.” Bradley says with a wink, finally facing the group.

“Bradley-“

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of the chatter. I know it’s Monday and you all want to gossip about your weekends but let’s save that for after morning announcements.” Mr. Parker, your home room teacher interrupts, dropping his bag on the desk.

A note appears in your peripheral vision, and you take it discreetly from Sienna before Bradley can notice. 

Mall with Madison and me?

You sigh, scrawling back Better not, Bradley’ll tattle. 

“Fucking Bradshaw.” Matt whispers. 

-

“Here comes your boyfriend.” 

Sienna flinches as you slam your locker shut. “Cut that shit out, would you Sienna? He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet.” 

“Hey ladies.” Bradley says, coming up behind you, leaning on the lockers. “You ready to go?” 

“Hey Bradley.” A senior girl you’ve only ever seen in the hallway, appears in your vision as Bradley straightens. 

“Hey Clara.” He says, nodding to the two girls behind her who are giggling. “Ava, Tracy.”

“So, I hear you’re gonna be playing Danny Zuko in the school musical.” 

He nods, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I am.” 

“Well, you must be so nervous.” Clara says, shouldering her way in between you and Bradley. Your jaw drops as Sienna steadies you, April appearing over her shoulder. 

“What the fuck dude.” Sienna mutters as you roll your shoulders, turning to face the pair.

“Well, kinda. I’ve never been in a play before so..” Bradley trails off, eyebrows threading together as the three of you give him unimpressed looks. 

“Well, if you ever want anyone to read lines with, I can play Sandy…” Clara says, hand landing on his bicep. 

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment but I, uh, already have someone to run lines with.” Bradley says, pointing to you. Clara turns as if this is the first time she’s seen you. 

“Oh.” She wrinkles her nose. “Well, if you change your mind, just let me know.” 

Clara isn’t even out of earshot before Sienna starts fake gagging. 

“Vomit, Bradshaw.” April says, shaking her head. “That was gross.” 

“Whatever, April.” Bradley says, setting his hands on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

-

“So why do you even need help running lines in the first place? You’ve been in the play for like, five minutes.” You ask as you sit down at the Bradshaw kitchen table. 

“I’m already two rehearsals behind, I’ve got to catch up.” Bradley says, opening the fridge door. 

“Who’s playing Sandy?” 

“Do you know Lacy Thomas?” 

“The freshman?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, cause that’s not gonna start any drama.”

Bradley shuts the door of the fridge, revealing two Cokes. “See, you’re already preparing me. I don’t even know any of the drama gossip.” 

You roll your eyes. “I think you’ll do just fine.” 

He sighs, sitting down across from you. “Yeah, Janie said the same thing, but I don’t know, I’m kinda nervous about some of the scenes. What if I slip on the bleachers during Summer Nights?”

Bradley slides the scene he wants to rehearse across the table to you as he talks. “Bradley, this one of the most memorable scenes from the movie, are you sure you need my help?” You ask. 

The look he gives you is pleading. “Please humor me here, Danny is a bit of a sleaze and that is so not how I was raised and I’m just-” 

“Fine, Bradshaw. God.” You exclaim, rolling your eyes, even though deep down you’re flattered Bradley is entrusting you with this. “I’ll help you alright?” 

“Okay, here goes nothing.” He says, clearing his throat. 

“W-what are you doing here? I- I thought you were going back to Australia!”

“We had a change of plans.” You mimic, doing your best to channel Olivia Newton-John. 

“I can’t- I mean, that’s cool baby, you know how it is. Rocking and rolling and whatnot- I can not do this.” He says with a groan. “Why is he so gross?”

“I think that’s the point, B.” 

He groans again, collapsing into the table. “I give up.” 

-

You feel giddy almost, walking up the steps of the school. You should be just right on time, if rehearsal got out when it was supposed to. 

You were so excited to show Bradley that you had driven here, excitement almost making you skip towards the double doors of the auditorium where they’d been holding a majority of the rehearsals. 

Bradley didn’t even know you were coming, which only made your excitement grow even more. 

“Ron, can you pick Bradley up after rehearsal today?” Carole asked as she grabbed her purse from the counter. You both look up at her from where you’re discussing your English homework with your Uncle. “The Bronco is still in the shop and I’m going in for a last minute cover from Sally.” 

“Can I pick him up?” You ask, fiddling with your pencil. “I can take Slider’s truck, if that’s okay with you?” 

Slider shrugs. “I don’t have a problem with it, now that you’ve got your learner’s permit.” Slider says with a nudge to your shoulder. 

Carole sighs, digging around in her bag for her keys. “Sounds good. There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge for dinner.” Carole presses a kiss to your head and then calls out, “Be on good behavior.” as she leaves the house.

You’re hoping you and Bradley can go out to dinner instead of eating the leftover lasagna, or maybe go get milkshakes to celebrate his progress in the play. 

You turn the corner into the courtyard when you spot them. 

You freeze. 

Bradley’s got one of his arms leaned up on the metal poles that outline the corridors of the campus, other hand in his pocket as he talks to Janie. She’s looking up at him, beaming as she straightens out the collar of his shirt. 

You swallow, breath hitching as you do. 

Oh. 

You turn, reaching for the car keys in your pocket but the shakiness of your hands causes you to drop them, the clang echoing through the empty court yard. You cringe as you kneel down to pick them up, avoiding the looks you know Janie and Bradley are probably giving you. 

You pray that they’ll just let you leave as you turn back towards the entrance of the school but the sound of someone jogging after you ruins that dream. 

Someone tugs on your arm, turning you to face them and you catch Bradley’s hazel eyes swimming with concern before you look away from him again. 

“Hey, is everything okay? What are you doing here? Did you hear something from your Dad?” 

You shrug. “I drove here. Everything’s fine, I- I just- just- thought maybe you could use a ride and we could go get food or something.”

Bradley’s shoulders fall. “Oh shit, I - I wish I could but Janie and I are gonna go to her house and study for that AP Euro test tomorrow. She’s gonna give me a ride back.” 

You swallow. “Oh, okay. No, that’s okay. I just thought-” You wave a hand, trying to swallow down the tears. “Doesn’t matter what I thought. Um, have fun, okay?” 

He nods uncertainly, eyes searching yours. 

Don’t fuck this up for him. 

You suck in a breath, taking a step back, causing Bradley’s arm to fall from your shoulder. 

“See you in home room tomorrow.” 

You turn, walking back to Slider’s truck, sliding in the front seat as you take a deep breath, trying not to cry as you drive out of the parking lot. 

Why did you expect Bradley to be impressed? Why did you expect him to think it was cool you’d driven your Uncle’s truck here? After all, he’d had his license for months, so had all his friends. 

You’d always been the younger girl, the one who had always been around, the little sister figure who was always going to be there. He’d never see you as anything more than his favorite uncle’s daughter. 

Hell, he probably didn't even see you as his friend, just someone who was there. 

Your eyes itch with the familiar sting of tears as you open the front door, dropping the keys on the entryway table. 

“Hey, I thought you and Bradley were going to go out after rehearsal?” Slider asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel. 

“He’s studying with Janie.” 

Slider says something you don’t hear as you turn, trudging up the stairs. 

You slip inside your bedroom, laying on the top of the duvet, feeling silly as the tears begin to slide down your cheeks. 

Why would Bradley ever like someone like you?

Janie was the perfect girl. 

Her parents were still married, she had an older brother who was a doctor and an older sister who worked as engineer. She was smart and intelligent, kind and pure, full of happiness and light. 

She’d be so good for someone like Bradley, who was all those things and more. 

You could see it now, the children they’d have, the family they’d build together. Their kids would probably have Janie’s freckles, Bradley’s curls. 

They’d be happy together. 

You wipe your hand at your cheek, fruitlessly trying to rid yourself of your tears, as you wished you were anybody else. 

There was a soft knock on your door, the door creaking open. Sienna peaks her head in, before sighing and shutting the door quietly behind her. 

“What’re you doing here?” You croak. 

“I needed help with my math homework, but Ron mentioned you were pretty upset, so-” 

You sigh, rolling over to face her as she sits on the bed next to you. 

“I dunno, it’s stupid.” You mutter, hands fiddling with the small bear plushie your Dad had won you at the fair this summer. 

“I cry over stupid things all the time.” She says, nudging your shoulder. “C’mon, you can tell me about it.” 

“I went to go pick Bradley up from rehearsal since his car is in the shop, and I don’t know- it was the first time I’ve actually driven somewhere without my parents since getting my learner’s permit. And I was gonna go ask him to get ice cream or something like we always do- and I- I walked in on him sort of having a moment with Janie and I don’t know Sienna- I guess I’m just realizing that I’ll always be second best.” 

The girl who was always younger, hitting milestones later than everyone else, the girl who was always around, the one everyone took for granted. 

Sienna sighs. “I wish- I wish you didn’t feel like that. You deserve so much more than that.” 

You shrug, setting the bear on the bed next to you as you roll back away from her. She stays next to you on the bed, the slowly setting sun reflecting in the glass. 

“I mean for what it’s worth, I know Ben has a crush on you.” 

“What?” You ask, voice raw and watery from crying. 

“Not that you have to do anything with that information, he just- he does. If Bradley isn’t willing to get his shit together enough to see what’s right in front of him, well, there are other guys who will.” 

“Sienna…” You mumble. “I can’t even process this information right now.” You say, a headache beginning to form. 

“Okay.” She says softly. “Want to go get ice cream with me instead?”

“Not really.” 

“Okay.” She says. “I’ll just sit with you then.” She lays down on the bed next to you. 

There she stays, for the rest of the evening. 

-

“Hey, uh-” Janie says, sliding into the seat next to you in your homeroom. 

“Yeah?” 

“Well, our other assistant director quit recently, and while I’m pretty confident I can handle the show on my own, we really need someone to take notes during rehearsals, and Bradley suggested you since you’re already familiar with the show since you’ve been running lines with him and stuff.” 

Bradley thought of you? And suggested you to Janie?

“Well, I- yeah, okay.” You say, blinking at the girl. A smile lights up her face as she stands up from the desk. 

“Perfect! See you this afternoon!” 

Sienna frowns, appearing to your left as she sits down next to Bradley at the front of the classroom. 

“What’d she want?” 

“I guess I’m helping out with the play now?” you ask, watching as Bradley looks back at you. 

“What?” Sienna hisses. “Literally two nights ago, you were crying your eyes out over him-” 

“Hey Sienna.” You say, turning to her. “Don’t question it, okay? Let me have this.” 

She narrows her eyes, slowly sinking into the desk next to you. 

“If you say so.”  

-

“What are you doing?” 

Bradley turns from where he’s dancing through the kitchen, the spoon being used as a microphone. 

Frankie Avalon’s voice floats through the speaker in the corner, the tune of Beauty School Dropout accompanying him. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to let your grin take over as the boy begins to sing again, swaying his hips as he follows through the steps they’ve been learning in rehearsal. There’s pancake batter dripping off the spoon and to his arm and pajama pants, even as he holds out his other arm for you. 

You bite your lip, barely hiding your amusement at this moment. 

Beauty school dropout, hanging around the corner store

You can’t resist, taking the brunette's arm as he gracefully turns, setting the spoon on the kitchen counter, taking your other hand to move in time with you. 

Now your bangs are curled, your lashes whirled, but still the world is cruel, wipe off that angel face and go back to high school

Bradley croons through the rest of the song and as Frankie Avalon’s voice tapers off, you hear someone sigh. 

You both turn, Bradley not letting go of your hands. Carole stands there with her hands on her hips, a soft smile on her face. 

“This damn musical is taking over our lives.” 

The song starts over and Bradley reaches out for her hands, inviting her to come dance with you as he begins singing again. 

-

“Andrew, where’s Bradley?” You ask with a sigh, pulling yourself from the car. 

The boy, playing Kenickie, looks over at you from where he’s walking to his car. 

“Still inside, I think. Ms. Scott wanted to run a few of the Sandy and Danny scenes one more time after rehearsal today.” 

“Thanks Andrew.” You call, heading towards the theater. 

“Good to see you mini Mitchell.” He calls as you slide through the doors. 

True to his word, Bradley is just exiting the stage door and he grins when he sees you. 

Unfortunately, you’re at a loss for words, blinking dumbly at the sight of your best friend. 

Today had been the first day of full dress rehearsal, the show quickly approaching. Which meant Bradley was fully Danny Zuko, down to the slicked back hair and fake cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

“Hey kid! Pretty cool costume, right?” He flicks out the switchblade hair comb the props team had gotten for him, striking a pose and slicking back his slightly mussed hair. 

You’re pretty sure you go weak in the knees. 

“Uh-” Your voice comes out all scratchy and you have to clear your throat a few times, trying to formulate words. “It looks great, B.” 

He sends a cheeky grin. “I know.”

-

Frankie Vialli’s Grease floats through the auditorium as the lights go down, your Dad nudging you as you settle in your seats for the show to start. 

The song tapers off as the curtain rises, lights illuminating the stage as Lacy and Nicole, the girl playing Frenchy, walk out on stage. 

You wait with bated breath for Summer Nights, knowing how worried Bradley had been about slipping on those damn bleachers. 

And of course, his performance is impeccable. 

Watching Bradley on stage is mesmerizing, magical almost. 

You don’t even realize intermission is upon you until the curtain rises and you blink, finally letting in a breath as you relax your shoulders. 

“Are you gonna have to come again tomorrow night when Ice and Sarah come to see Bradley?” Slider says with a nudge as he shares a knowing look with Carole.

“Hi Mr. Mitchell.” Sienna says from behind you, your Dad turning and offering her a smile

“Nice flowers.” Madison snickers, nodding to the flowers at your feet. 

“We went to three stores to get those.” Your Dad responds. 

“Three? You’re really trying hard here-”

The glare you send Matt is enough to silence him as he shrinks back in his seat. 

-

“Mav!” Bradley shouts across the patio, racing for your Dad, barreling into him before your Dad has barely turned. Your Dad returns the tight hug as your hands become sweaty, turning the crinkling paper in your hand. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Baby Goose.” Mav says, giving him a bright smile. “You looked so good up there.” 

“Thanks Mav.” Bradley is practically beaming as he turns to face the rest of you. “Thanks for coming.” His eyes catch on the flowers in your hand, growing wider. “Did you get me flowers?” 

You glance down at them.

“You know tulips means pure and deep love, right?” Sienna whispers in your ear over the back of the seats. Your cheeks grow hot as you gingerly set them down on the floor. 

“Sienna-“ 

“And red means lust-“ 

“Sienna, I’ll hit you.” 

“Yeah, I- uh, I know it’s tradition to get flowers for opening night and I uh-“ If Bradley was beaming before, he’s glowing now, taking the flowers from your hands. 

“Thank you so much.” He says warmly.

Before you can process what happens next, he ducks down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without you.” 

You can feel the burning warmth take over as you shrug. “Oh, it was- no- no big deal.” 

“Bradley!” April calls, pulling him away with a. smile as you turn back to your Dad. He grins at you.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Is Carole still in the bathroom? I should go find her.”

“Hey.” Someone’s hand lands on your shoulder as you look up. “Do you want to get out of here and go get ice cream?” Ben asks. “I can drive you home. Got my Dad’s truck for the night.”

“Um-“ Your eyes slide over his shoulder to see your Dad talking to Slider and Carole, Bradley having disappeared back into the crowd. Part of you wants to stay, to see if Bradley will join the four of you for dinner. The other part of you remembers what Sienna said, about him having a crush on you.

 “Let me go ask my Dad, okay?”

“I’ll come with. I know he won’t let you climb into a car with just anyone. He just got back, right?” 

You nod as you squeeze through the crowd. “This morning. Dad.” You call, catching his attention. He turns his head. “This is Ben.” 

Ben holds out his hand. “Benjamin Waters sir. It’s really good to meet you.” Your Dad shakes his hand with a raised eyebrow. 

“Can we- well, can I go get ice cream? With Ben?” 

“I’ll drive her home.” Ben offers, with a smile. 

Slider does a terrible job of hiding his surprise, coughing into his fist and he shoots your Dad a look. 

“Um, as long as you go find Bradley and let him know you’re leaving, yeah, I guess I don’t really have a problem with it.” 

If you thought Bradley was happy, Ben is elated. 

You heave a sigh, eyes scanning the crowd for April. She catches your eye, squeezing her way through the people, her brother Alex in tow. 

“Where’d Bradley go?” 

“Around the building. I think he went to go get changed.” 

You nod, following where she pointed you as Ben follows you like a lost puppy dog. 

Finally, you spot him, still in costume sans leather jacket, leaned up against the building next to the stage door. 

And then-

and then there’s Janie, who is pressing her hands into his shirt as she kisses Bradley. Bradley cups Janie’s cheek, deepening the kiss. 

You turn away, swallowing around the lump in your throat. 

If Bradley isn’t willing to get his shit together enough to see what’s right in front of him, well, there are other guys who will.

You look over at Ben, who’s already watching you. 

Is this- is this what it would always be with Bradley? Always one step behind, always too slow? 

Never enough, never enough, never enough-

“Do you just wanna go?” Ben whispers as you glance back at Bradley. 

Maybe Ben really was the best you’d ever get. You certainly were never gonna get anything from Bradley. 

Bradley breaks away, smiling at Janie as he moves some of her hair back. 

And then his eyes latch on to you, growing wide. Janie turns her head, catching sight of you and Ben. Janie turns as well, stepping back from him and giving you a little finger wave. You’re just far enough away that you can’t hear what she says to him before grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him down to place a kiss on his cheek. You can see the imprint of her red lipstick on his cheek as she gives you and Ben one last look before slipping back inside the side door. 

Ben clears his throat, taking a few steps back as Bradley walks over to you. 

“Hey, I- uh, didn’t mean to interrupt- that.” You say, glancing back over at where Janie and Bradley had been standing. 

“No-, you- no, it’s okay. Hey, we’re all gonna go out to eat, the whole cast and crew, all of us. You should come with, ‘specially cause you helped out so much-”

“Bradley-” 

“-Or does Mav want to go out to eat? I can-” 

“Bradley, Ben and I are gonna go get ice cream. I just- uh, though you should know.” 

Bradley deflates a little. “Oh. Well, uh-” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I- uh, tell Ben that if he tries anything, he’s got me to worry about it. You hear that Ben?” he calls. “You take good care of her.” Ben salutes, as Bradley sets his hand on your shoulder, nudging you towards him. “Go. Have fun.” 

You swallow, nodding as you walk back to Ben. Ben takes your hand as you give Bradley one last look. He gives a soft smile, holding his hand up before you turn back around, listening to Ben chatter. 

[flowery-mess]

Swan Lake

Noah x ballerina reader

I will never forget the way I was feeling at that stage in front of all those people. My parents and siblings in first row, watching me with eyes full of tears and pride. I got the lead role in Swan Lake at the age of 16 which was seen as big accomplishment in ballet world. In that moment I felt happy, proud of myself and stronger than ever. But that didn’t last long.

Just a seconds after the big red curtain was closed and me and other dancers went in the direction of our changing room, I heard my name being called. Screamed, actually.

I turned around to see our trainer speed walking to me. I quickly went over the whole play in my head. What did I do wrong? I couldn’t think of anything, I felt good. She found million reasons to tell me I was a bad choice for playing the lead role, that I’m too fat and I won’t play on the next date.

That was it. That night I told my parents I’m done with ballet and I’m quitting immediately. My mother was ballet dancer too, we talked a lot about how hard it was for me lately, so she agreed with my decision and went to talk to my trainer. I packed my things and never saw that woman again. That felt like a big rock fell off my shoulders. That was 10 years ago.

-

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asked, his hand gently placed on my thigh as we were driving to my family home for Saturday lunch with my family.

“It’s 10 years anniversary of me ending my ballet career. I was thinking about it a lot recently.”

“Thinking about as?” he waited for my response as he didn’t really understand how I feel about it.

“As I miss it, I guess. I was thinking about talking with my mom about it today. Also I looked up some ballet classes in our area. But I don’t know, it was just a silly idea.” I shrugged it off.

I never really talked with Noah about my ballet career. I told him I did ballet for 14 years and quit for mental health issues. I mean, it’s very much known how the ballet industry works, so he understood. I have very mixed feelings about getting back into it at my age, so I haven’t told anyone yet.

I tried to stay healthy and fit, I sometimes go to open dance classes and sometimes I try some ballet steps. I still got it. I am a lucky one, I still have good stretches and I learn steps quickly. I just got bored of doing it only in our living room.

“Really? That’s not a silly idea, it’s actually a really cool idea. Did you find any good places?” I was surprised with Noah’s excitement. He is very supportive of everything I do, but I guess I expected different reaction.

“I like two ballet studios. They have some good teachers and also open classes, just for hobby attendance. One is on Mondays and the other one is on Thursdays, so I can try both and then see which one I like more.”

“Are you signed up already?”

“No, I am not sure Noah. It brings up lot of bad memories, 10 years ago it got me into a really bad place and I’m scared it’s going to be the same this time.” I felt tears coming as I thought of little 13 years old me crying through the whole night, because I was told I’m fat for ballet. That I’m not good enough. That I’m too tall to be a ballerina. That my skin is too pale. That I got in just because of my mother. That I’m never going to make it.

Those memories make me feel little and so vulnerable.

“I’m sure it will be great honey. If you miss it, then you should try it. But it’s your decision, okay? I don’t want to push you into anything. Take your time to think about it, talk with your mom and you will see what’s her opinion on this, right?” he brought his hand that was holding mine in it to his lips and placed small kisses against my palm.

“Thank you.” I shot him a smile which he gladly returned.

-

I loved days like today, spending time with my family. All of them love Noah, so after we have lunch, we are usually both separated and have conversation with someone else. Firstly, I talked to my siblings about college and their new internships, while Noah talked with my dad about new music and their upcoming Europe tour. My dad absolutely loves Bad omens and I am sure he is their biggest fan. When my family visits for shows, he never wants to be in the backstage, watching the show from safe space. He always goes in the crowd, which makes my mum crazy scared every single time.

I used this as a chance to talk to mom about the ballet thing that was going around in my head.

“Mom do you mind coming with me outside for a minute?”

“Of course darling.”

We took our coffees with us as we made our way to the garden and sit on the big couch that my parents had there for my whole life. That thing is going to outlive all of us.

“What is it darling?”

“What do you mean?” I tried to hide my worries, but my mom knows me too well.

“I know when my baby is worried about something. What is it? Is it Noah? Are you sad he’s going to leave for tour soon?”

“Oh no, well, yes that too, but it’s not the first time, that will be okay. It’s something I wanted to talk about especially with you.” I played with the cup in my hands and avoided the topic as long as I could.

“Come on hon, spit it out.”

“I was thinking about getting back into ballet.” I said and kept my eyes low, focused on the green grass. I looked up just because my mom wasn’t saying anything. “What? Are you going to say something? I don’t know what this face means.” I was honestly so confused with the way her face was looking at me. Was she happy about? Sad? I couldn’t tell.

“Well, I was expecting this much sooner than now.”

“What?”

“I always thought you will want to get back to it at some point in your life hon. You loved it. Aside from those ugly things, you loved ballet. I was so angry at that woman who ruined for you.”

“Why did you never say anything?” I was so confused. She was waiting for this for years and never talked about it with me?

“Because it’s your decision, not mine. I didn’t want you to think I was disappointed with you or pushing you back into it. Did you think of where would you start with classes? And would you want to take part in plays again?” She was right. It is just mine decision and with everything she saw me go through I understand she was worried.

“I found two studios near our home that look good. They have weekly open classes that I was thinking about. But I wanted to talk with you first about it.”

Then we fell into long dialogue about everything connected with be going back into ballet. My mom gave me a courage to at least try it. She said my eyes lit up when I talked about the good memories I had from my child age. She also told me that I am more mature than I was back then and even if I don’t think I can handle it, I can. And she was right.

I’m a grown woman now, I can handle myself and protect myself. It’s also just open class for everyone who wants to try ballet, there will be no judgement.

-

“I’m going to try it.” We left my parents house later than expected, so it was dark outside when we were driving back.

“The open classes? Did you talk with your mom about it?”

“Yes and she said I should give it a chance. So I guess I won’t be home on Monday evening.”

“Can I go watch you?” Noah asked.

“What?” I returned him a question, not knowing what he meant.

“I mean I never saw you do your ballet thing and you will be wearing those ballet outfits and I’m sure that will be hot.” He said as if it was obvious fact that I should’ve known.

“You’re not being serious right now, are you?” I tried to hold my laugh in at his innocent clueless face.

“Well I’m not, but I would really like to see your little ballet outfit for sure.” He turned his face to you so you could see his smirk.

“Sure, watch the road you perv.”

-

It had already been a month since I started going to open classes in the studio I chose after the first week. I chose the one closer to our home, their dance rooms were bigger and more modern and our teacher was a lovely girl, possibly my age.

And it felt amazing. It felt like I was alive again. Don’t get me wrong I loved my life with Noah, my work and everything, but this felt like the missing piece.

While I was changing into my clothes after today’s class, our teacher Molly came to talk to me.

“Listen Y/N, I know you said you have bad experience and memories with professional ballet, but we have few spots open in our semi professional group and I thought you’d be great candidate. I see you’re learning faster than anyone in your class and I’m scared you would get bored after a while. There will be auditions, but I can get a word in for you and see if you could skip them. Just think about it and let me know as soon as you decide please.”

That night I came running home to share that news with Noah.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed just seconds after I opened the door.

“Studio.”

When I opened the door Noah turned in his chair to face me.

“Did I do something?” he looked scared.

“What?”

“Why are you screaming and running, I’m scared I did something.” You let out a chuckle at his words.

“No, but I got news. Great news.”

“Let me hear them.”  I walked over to him and sat in his lap.

“I just got offered a place in semi professional group at the studio. Without auditions, Molly wants me there.”

“Honey that’s great news! That’s amazing news!” he stood up with me in his arms and spined us around.

“So you think I should accept that offer?”

“You haven’t already?”

“No, I wanted to think about it.”

“Judging by your reaction, there’s nothing to think about.” He smiled into our kiss.

“I guess I’m back on track then.” I kissed him back.

-

Long story short, I accepted Molly’s offer and started with my new group. I had classes 4 times a week, which was bit hard to get used to, but after while it was okay.

Noah left for tour, so at least I got something to do with my free time.

Noah leaving was also good for another reason. There is time difference between us, so we usually text each other or have short calls, so my worries are easy to hide.

Last week Molly told us that our group will be playing Swan Lake few months from now on, which brought back some memories. Semi professional groups still play in midsized theatre, I joined them when there wasn’t any, so I expected some play to come soon, but not this one.

I had mixed feelings about it, thinking if I want to play or if I just pass this one. Applications are closing in three days and I still haven’t applied for any role, which was weird for Molly.

She asked me about it after last class, so I told her about my ballet history, how Swan Lake basically ruined it for me. Molly is very positive person, so she told me something that got stuck in my head. She said I could take it as an opportunity and change Swan Lake from something bad to something really good in my life.

Truth is, I am thinking about applying for Odette/Odile, but I haven’t told anyone yet.

-

“Okay that’s enough love, what is going on?” Noah asked through the phone and I saw his forehead wrinkles were making his worried face. It’s scary how well he knows me, but with tomorrow being the last day for applications I needed to tell him.

“Our group is going to play Swan Lake in a few months and I don’t know if I should apply or not. It’s the play that made me quit.”

“Looks like it’s your second chance to make the best out of it. Listen, you were worried about even getting into ballet again and look at you now! I know you’re worried now, but wouldn’t you regret not even trying it?” I felt like I was on the phone with Molly right now.

“I know, I was thinking about applying for the lead role, I did it back then too. But maybe I should do other role?”

“Oh no love, if anyone is supposed to be the lead role in this play, it’s you.”

“You have to say this, you’re my boyfriend Noah.”

“Well wouldn’t you be the same if I was in your position? That’s what you do for your partner. You know how many songs would be forgotten and never released if you didn’t support me? There is lot of them I thought weren’t good enough, but you made me finish them. I may don’t understand ballet, but I understand you and I know you would regret not applying. So you get your ass up right now and fill what ever you need to fill and send it to Molly or I’m going to do it.”

And he was right, I would regret it. But I still couldn’t believe myself when I saw ‘send’ on my screen after I applied for Odette/Odile.

-

Molly informed me that me and 5 other girls applied for the same role, so there will be two rounds of auditions, first one starting on Monday, which gives me 6 days to prepare for it. Noah is also coming back home on Monday, so I’m happy I will share the outcome with him. Either we will celebrate or he will make me his comfort food and I’m happy with both options.

-

I spend the last 6 days going over the choreography for the first round of auditions. Everyday after work I went straight home and practiced. Last night I didn’t get a chance to talk with Noah, because he was already on his way back to the states. I at least talked to my mom this morning.

“Y/N you’re next.” I heard Molly from the ballet room.

-

“I’m homeee.” I heard Noahs voice that I missed so much. I left the pans on low heat and left kitchen to meet Noah in the living room.

I didn’t waste any time and went straight in for a kiss.

“Missed me much?” he managed to say between our kisses.

“Very much.” I looked at his face, tired face, and held it in my hands “Hi love.”

“Hi.” He leaned his forehead against mine as we enjoyed bit of silence and each other’s presence after month and two weeks apart.

“How was the flight?” I broke the silence, took his hand and led him into our kitchen to finish dinner.

“It was okay. I slept most of the time, but I’m still very tired. And I need a shower.”

“You can go take a shower now, it will take few more minutes until it’s done.” I pointed to the food.

“Okay.” Noah got up, left kiss on my nose and went to get shower. That’s what I thought at least. On his way to our bathroom, he realized I didn’t tell him about the audition.

“Y/N? Wasn’t the audition today?” it was, but I wanted to tell him about the result over dinner.

“It was, but I wanted to tell you later.” I tried to hide the smile on my face.

“You got through to the second audition, didn’t you?” he caught your smile and immediately knew the answer. “I guess we can celebrate right now in the shower huh? Are you going to join me?”

-

“So girls, I want to thank you for participating in this audition. It was hard to decide, but in the end, we agreed on one name. And it’s you, Y/N. We were amazed by your performance and we feel like your experience with this play could help us to make the best of it. Congratulations!” Molly gave me a hug and whispered in my ear that she knew it was going to be me from the beginning.

Noah and my mom said the same. My mom made sure she put date of the premiere in hers and dad’s calendar so they wouldn’t miss it. Noah also made sure to clear that day months in advance and welcomed me home with a flower and dinner as a celebration.

-

Breathe in, breathe out. And repeat. I stood in backstage already in my costume. I saw Noah and my parents in the first row as the rest of the room filled with strangers. Strangers that are going to be watching me in a few minutes.

“Are you ready Y/N? How are you feeling?” I felt Molly’s hand on my shoulder.

“I’m nervous, but also excited. I haven’t preformed for over decade, so I hope I don’t panic.”

“You’ll be great. We did lot of work, all of you will do great tonight.”

She then went to talk to other girls and I felt my phone buzz in my hand. It was Noah.

“Don’t be nervous, we’re very excited to see you shine tonight. You’ll kill it babe, I love you.” Oh my sweet Noah. Supportive as always.

-

I stood still in my pose as the curtain was closing. I let out a big breath I didn’t even realised I was holding in when the curtain was fully closed. I turned around to see my friends and in that moment we realized we just finished our premiere of the Swan Lake. And it was perfect. We did group hug, with Molly joining us. It was completely different than 10 years ago. This night was full of support and love.

I went to change into my normal clothes and then to meet Noah and my parents.

My dad and Noah both had bouquets in their hands and my mom had tears in her eyes. She was also the first one to pull me into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you Y/N, you can’t even imagine. You grew up into a beautiful woman and you just showed me how strong you are.”

“Thank you, mom, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Then it was my dad who pulled me into strong hug. My dad didn’t show emotions a lot, so I appreciated him coming tonight.

I really wanted to literally jump into Noah’s arms, but I kept calm in front of my parents. They said their goodbyes and left, because they have long road ahead of them.

As soon as they left the parking lot I turned to Noah and attacked him with hugs and kisses.

“Slow down baby, let me congratulate you and give you this beautiful flower.” It really was beautiful bouquet. Noah always got me beautiful flowers.

“How was it? Did you like it?” I was interested in Noah’s opinion, because it was his first ballet play he saw.

“It was beautiful! You were amazing! I know you can stretch your legs right, but I didn’t know you can stretch them like this.” I didn’t know if I should slap his arm for his stupid comment or laugh at him as he was trying to show me what he meant and trying to do the pose he was referring to.

“Okay ballerina I get it!” I laugh and stopped him from what he was doing before he got himself injured.

“Do you want to go out for dinner and drinks? Or go home and order something? You must be hungry.” We intertwined our hands and Noah led me to his car. He was right, I didn’t eat much today, because of the nerves.

“I think I want to go home, order something to eat, have a glass of wine, have hot bubble bath and then my back could use a massage…”

“I will give you massage only if you let me join you in the bath.” Of course he wouldn’t miss that chance.

“Deal. Let’s get home.” Noah started his car and took my hand in his.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you. I’m getting tickets to every show and I’m making the guys come with me.”

“Okay.” I laughed, but I knew he was serious. I’m sure that at the next show I’m going to see the core of BO crew in the front row.

“But I’m serious, I love you.”

“I love you too Noah, thank you for being by my side for all of this.”

“Always.”