#so excited its gonna be so easy and so comfortable

[spirirsstuff]

planning my connor murphy costume for halloween

[headkiss]

fall right into me

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when something happens to your apartment and you need a place to stay, steve, your best friend, is quick to provide it for you. your prolonged proximity forces you both to realize some things.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: childhood bffs to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mentions of a negative relationship with parents, probably inaccurate descriptions of some things but it’s (say it with me) for the plot!!!

a/n: i know it’s been a LONG time since i’ve posted a long fic so thank u guys for ur patience <3 i had so much fun getting back to it and writing these two, and i hope it’s at least a little bit worth the wait!!! ily :,)

𝜗𝜚

Your shoes are still wet as you dial the first number that comes to mind: Steve’s.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hi,” you can imagine him on the other side of the phone, leaning casually against the wall, an easy smile on his face, “what’s going on?”

You’re not quite sure where to start.

Coming home from work earlier, you’d been excited to shower and change and lay around for the rest of the evening, your book hanging open in your lap and some mindless TV filling the silence.

The day seemed to have other plans for you, though, because as you walked down the stairs to your apartment—one in the basement of a sweet, older couple’s house who just never used the space and converted it—the carpet had made an ugly squelch as soon as you stepped on it.

You looked down at your shoe against the carpet, at the way its color was darker than usual from whatever water had gotten into it. Looking up, you found a complete mess. A piece of the ceiling hanging open right above your bed, water still dripping in steady drops from the gap, your bedding ruined among many other things.

You don’t know how long you stood there, hand over your mouth, eyes flickering over the damage like you were hoping it would vanish, like it was only something you imagined.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

The couple who owns the house came down when they heard you shout for them, unsure of what else to do. They’d both gasped when they came down, and began apologizing for something that really wasn’t their fault before one ran up to call whoever it was they needed to call to fix this and the other comforted you with a gentle “we’ll take care of it, sweetie.”

You nodded, eyes still roaming your space that was now uninhabitable.

It’s an old house, something was bound to happen at some point, you only wished it wasn’t so inconvenient for you. A small leak, you could have handled, but the ceiling practically caving in?

Yeah, it was a complete fucking mess.

Hours later, with the damage assessed and set to take a few weeks to fix up, you’re on the phone with the one person you’d known would pick up.

You fill Steve in on what happened, and his first response is a sigh of, “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” you agree. “And now I’m gonna have to live with my parents for a while and I don’t know how I’m gonna go back into that house, Steve.”

If you’re being honest, the couple you live with now was kinder to you than your parents were. You suppose that’s one of the many things that you and Steve have bonded over.

“Just come live with me, instead,” he offers without hesitation.

Steve says it like it’s obvious, a no-brainer, and you guess it should be, since you’ve slept over at the Harrington’s house countless times before. Only, this is different because you’d be staying for a while, because you’d be needing his help, which makes you feel all awkward and guilty.

He’s been your absolute best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’re one hundred percent sure you’d offer the same thing if the roles were reversed, but that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept, not when you’re already frazzled from the events of the day.

“No, Steve, I’m sorry I’m just being dramatic,” you say, twisting the phone’s cord around your finger. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a month, or so, and I don’t wanna be in your way or-”

“When have you ever cared about being in my way, angel?” The pet name he’s called you ever since your ninth grade Halloween party slips out naturally, the way it always does. “Besides, this house is too fucking big for me as it is, and you know my parents won’t be around to care, either.”

“I can’t ask you to let me move in, Steve.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering. It’ll be like that one week when we were twelve and you stayed over for spring break, only longer. It’s perfect!”

There’s a small smile ghosting across your face as you recall the memory he’s talking about. A blanket fort in their spacious living room, sleeping bags and pillows piled inside it along with two flashlights.

You can picture the way he looks on the other end of the phone, his hair a bit messy from running his hands through it during the day, one strand rogue against his forehead, his shoulder leaned carelessly against the wall the way it usually is when he stands. Like he can’t be bothered to hold himself up, like there’s constantly a weight on him.

“Are you sure about this, Steve? It’s really okay if you’re not. I swear I’ll be fine.”

“As if I’m letting you spend multiple weeks back in your parent’s house. You’re staying with me, alright?” His voice is insistent, yet kind, letting you know that he’s being honest, that he means it. “We’ll order pizzas and watch shitty romcoms, ‘kay?”

“You can call romcoms shitty all you want, but we both know you get teary at every single one.”

“Don't change the subject, angel. Also, fuck off,” he says, though you can hear the smile in his voice. “So, you’re living with me, yeah?”

You don’t think you could say no to him even if you wanted to.

“Yeah, alright, Steve. Thank you so much.”

“None of that. I know you’d do the same.”

There’s something beautiful about the kind of trust and ease that comes with a friendship as long as yours. One where you’ve watched each other grow up, awkward phases and all, and stuck together the entire way. There’s no questioning whether or not you’d be there for each other if you were in need.

It’s known, felt. Like a fact.

“Now,” he continues, “I’ll pick you up, okay? Ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay.”

“You need me to bring boxes for your stuff?”

“I’m not sure how much is worth keeping. It’s pretty ugly in there.”

Your voice goes small at the end, because the gravity of it all is really sinking in. You’ll have to replace a lot of stuff. Stuff you don’t have money for right now.

But, you haven’t let yourself cry just yet, so you swallow it down.

“I’ll bring some anyway, then. We’ll figure it out, angel, don’t worry.”

“Thanks again, Steve. See you soon.”

“Ten minutes,” he assures you, then the line clicks.

-

True to his word, Steve arrives in under ten minutes, which isn’t surprising considering the size of Hawkins, but feels reassuring all the same.

You’re sitting on the curb in front of the house when Steve’s BMW pulls over on the other side of the road, and you stand just as he climbs out and shuts his door, rounding the car and jogging over to you.

His keys jingle as he tucks them into the pocket of his faded jeans, his opposite hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder, “You okay?”

The warmth of his palm seeps through your work shirt that you’ve yet to change out of, and you let your eyes fall shut just for a second before looking at his face, “Guess so,” you nod. “Maybe ask me again after all of this?”

Steve’s arm winds itself over your shoulders, tugging you into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of your head, simple as an instinct. “I’ve got you. We’ll get through this, angel.”

We’ll, he says. A team.

You reach up and squeeze his hand and nod, guiding him to the side-entrance leading to your basement apartment.

“I hope you didn’t wear your good shoes for this,” you say.

Steve looks down at his feet and shrugs, “Shoes can be replaced.”

He lets you lead the way down the stairs, his footsteps close behind yours. You wince when you look at the damage again, even though you’d seen it minutes ago. You can't bring yourself to look at Steve, to see the reaction on his face, because you think it’ll just make it all more real.

He mouths the word ‘fuck’ while you aren’t looking, then claps his hands once. “Okay, let’s figure out what we can save, yeah? Where do you want me?”

You’re grateful for his gentle guidance at what to do. “Maybe the bathroom? Everything in there should be fine, so it just needs to be packed.”

“‘Kay. I’ll just go grab some boxes from my car,” Steve says. He squeezes your hand once before heading up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You decide to tackle the worst spot first. Though the place is more like a studio, the side that houses your bed and your closet is the most affected, so you head over there and try to tune out the squish of the carpet beneath your feet.

You’re opening the sliding doors to your closet when Steve comes back, dropping a stack of boxes by your feet and running his hand down your arm softly before heading over to the bathroom to pack for you.

Even his presence seems to be making things a little bit easier for you, and each time he finds a small way to touch you or speak to you, to remind you that he’s there, you’re glad for it.

Half of your closet is a gross, wet mess, but some things are salvageable, which you take as a win. Things might be damp, but at least it’s only water, you suppose. A cycle in the dryer and most things will be wearable again.

Your dresses that are hung get the worst of it, soaked and smelly, and you decide that it’d be easier to get a couple new ones than to try and save what’s there.

Steve checks in every now and then, poking his head out of the bathroom’s doorway to look at you and make sure you’re doing alright, giving you a thumbs up when you look over to him.

You’re not sure how you’d be managing this if you were alone, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to.

The next time he checks on you, you’re by your nightstand.

Sitting atop of it is a framed picture of you and Steve from summer camp when you were around ten years old, maybe younger. Only now, the picture’s stained with water and the frame you’d decorated all those years ago at camp is a splotchy mess.

Where yours and Steve’s handwriting used to be, is now a blur from the water seeping into the wooden frame, the marker’s colors muddy. You frown, picking it up and running your thumb over the edge.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re tearing up, frustrated and sad and tired. Memories like this one are the most special to you, the ones that have kept you going for so long, and just like that, the picture that’s sat on your nightstand since being taken is gone, and it fucking sucks.

“Hey, angel?” Steve calls.

When all you do is sniffle and mumble an “mhm?” in response, he sets the box he’d been packing on the bathroom counter and walks over to you.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your upper-arms and peering over your shoulder at the ruined picture.

“It was my favorite one,” you say, voice breaking a little. You wipe your tear away as it trails down your cheek, your own fingertips too harsh against your skin.

Although it’s soaked and splotchy now, Steve knows which picture it is. The one where you’ve both got your neon summer camp t-shirts on, the one where his cheeks and nose are completely sunburnt and you’re both grinning up at the camera from your seats on the ground.

Steve’s clutching a stick in his hand for some reason, and you’ve got your fist tangled in the sleeve of his shirt.

It feels like no time and forever has passed since then.

Steve grabs the picture and pries it gently from your hands, setting it back onto the table and turning you around in his grip to face him.

“We can fix it,” he tells you, his brown eyes all soft as his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping your tears away.

“But the frame-”

“We’ll fix it, angel. I’ll find a way, okay? We can pack it in one of the boxes and figure it out.”

“Steve-”

“Look at me,” he urges you when your gaze flickers to the ground. You listen. “This fucking sucks, I know it does, but you’re strong and I’m here, and we can handle this.”

His voice is quiet, but sure. You search his face for any trace of a lie and find none. He really believes what he’s saying, and he really believes in you.

“Thank you for being here.” You take a deep breath and drop your forehead against the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry for crying. I know it’s kinda stupid. Most of this is replaceable, it’s just-”

“It’s not stupid,” he says, letting his chin rest atop your head. “You’re allowed to cry. Hell, I’d probably be kicking and screaming on the floor like I'm back in the terrible twos.”

You laugh wetly into his shirt.

“Now,” he says, pulling back and putting his hands on his hips, “the quicker we pack, the quicker we go home. I’ll even let you wear a pair of my good fuzzy socks.”

A smile tugs at your mouth. “Deal.”

-

Steve wouldn’t let you do much of the work after that.

Instead, he simply held up items for you to assess from where you’d been leaning against the wall and packed it into a box if it was a ‘yes,’ or tossing it aside dramatically just to try and get you to laugh if it was a ‘no.’

Once things were sorted through and packed, you loaded everything into Steve’s car—which wasn’t a whole bunch, considering how much you had to leave behind.

You’d refused to let Steve carry the boxes all on his own, though he tried, but he still managed to open the doors for you whenever you made it to his car, even when his own hands were full, too.

By the time you were finished, you were drained. It felt like you’d lived multiple days in the one. An eight hour shift opening at the store, then coming home to a wrecked apartment. All you wanted to do was shower and lay down and not get back up.

Steve knows you well enough to be able to tell when it’s time to fill the silence and when it isn’t, and on the drive back to his place, while your head was leaned against his window, he knew to stay quiet and give you a bit of space.

He turned the radio on, but not too loud, letting the songs hum through the speakers. At every stop sign, he reached over and gave your thigh a light squeeze. Reassuring, kind, somehow exactly what you needed at the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.

You were no stranger to the Harrington’s house, having been there countless times since you were little, but it feels more intimidating now, knowing you’ll be staying. You feel silly for being worried, but you are. Asking for help makes you feel like a burden.

Steve, however, doesn’t let you entertain that thought for long, parking in his driveway and jogging around to open the passenger door for you. “Honey, we’re home!”

“Dork,” you say, though you accept his hand and let him tug you up out of the car.

Grabbing the first couple of boxes, Steve leads you inside and upstairs, right to the guest room across the hall from his own bedroom. The closest one to him.

The house has at least two guest rooms, though you suppose with how little Steve's parents are around, you could consider there to be three. Three spare rooms and Steve puts you up in the nearest one possible. It makes your heart squish in your chest, how caring he is. He doesn’t even have to try, really, the goodness in him shows even when he tries to keep it hidden.

It only takes a few trips down to his car and back before all of your boxes are stacked against the wall. You decide you’ll deal with them later.

Steve runs over to his room and grabs a set of pajamas that you’d left there, and hands them to you. “I figured you’d wanna wash up.”

“You calling me smelly, Harrington?”

“Shut up, I think you smell nice. Usually.”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing, angel.” He ruffles your hair. You swat his hand away. “You know where the bathroom is, and there should be soap and stuff in the shower already. Just yell if you need something, okay?”

You do know where the bathroom is. You have your own toothbrush in a cup by the sink, a set of travel-sized skin care products in the cupboard behind the mirror for whenever you end up staying over.

It’s funny, you’ve always felt more at home here than at your own parents house, and though he hasn’t said it to you, Steve much prefers this house when you’re in it. There’s a warmth that comes with your presence that makes him ache when it’s not around.

You nod, “Thank you again for letting me stay, Steve. I won’t be in the way, promise.”

“I want you in the way. You know you’re always welcome. This is no different.” He shrugs, “Plus, it’ll be nice having you around. Place always feels so empty when it’s just me.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay forever, then,” you say, tone light and joking.

Steve, completely serious, says, “I’d let you.”

There’s a zip that goes through you when he says it, quick as lightning, something you’ve never felt—or noticed, rather—around him. It throws you off just a little.

“Anyways,” Steve cuts your thoughts short, “I’ll let you get settled. Pizza will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

He leaves the room before you can thank him again, his footsteps retreating and heading downstairs.

You’ve been to his house a million times, so you don’t really feel the need to ‘get settled’ but you desperately need a shower so that’s where you go.

You stay in for longer than you need to, letting the too-hot water run down your neck and back.

When you finally do step out of the bathroom, now clad in your pajamas, and head downstairs, Steve’s sitting on the couch in the living room, the romcoms he owns sitting out in front of the TV for you to choose from, your favorite blanket resting on your side of the couch, and pizza boxes on the coffee table just as promised.

It’s the best thing in the world, you think, to have a friend like Steve.

-

You’ve been staying at Steve’s for a couple of days already, and time seems to fly by a little quicker when you’re there, especially when you’re around him.

He’s taken it upon himself to have coffee ready in the pot for you every morning, one of your favorite mugs already next to it on the counter. You’ve cooked breakfasts together (pancakes one day, where you’d done most of the work, or something simple as toast when you both have to get to work), ordered dinners, and Steve comes home from his shifts with a new movie to watch almost every day.

It’s been so nice. Almost perfect, actually.

This morning, the first day where your shifts happen to be at the exact same time, he’d even insisted on driving you to work. It was an easy yes, considering it wasn’t out of his way at all.

After a short stint of working together at the grocery store in ninth grade, and your subsequent firing from the job after a month of constantly distracting each other on the clock, Tim, the grocery manager, took it upon himself to warn Hawkins not to hire the both of you together.

Eventually, you’d taken the closest you could get which resulted in you working at the arcade and Steve next door at Family Video.

You share a parking lot. Steve already drives you to work most days. You like to put up a bit of a fight just to annoy him.

Though you haven’t worked together in years, and he isn’t far away by any means, you miss having Steve around on days like this. Where the arcade is quiet save for the sounds of the games in the background, where you’re simply babysitting the desk and cleaning things multiple times to try and make the hours pass by.

If Steve were with you, he’d make stupid jokes that you don’t wanna laugh at but do, or coerce you into playing the games while on the clock with the change you find whenever you’re cleaning.

He’d probably trash talk you, and bump your hip with his while playing pinball, and be a sore loser, and for some reason you want him around so bad.

You chalk it up to getting used to spending hours and hours with him, every single day, these past couple of days. Staying with him has made you miss him more, you think.

That’s it.

Meanwhile, over at Family Video, Steve isn’t feeling too different from you.

He’s spent the morning stocking shelves, memories popping into his head whenever he’d come across a movie you loved or watched together, while Robin’s been manning the desk.

Then, when his cart was empty and put back into the back room, he sat on the chair behind the front desk, spinning around until Robin stopped him with her foot and asked what he was thinking so hard about.

Steve caught her up on what had happened with your apartment (you’d told him he could tell her, because she’s your friend too and would find out sooner or later) and how you’d ended up staying with him in his house.

She raised her eyebrows and hummed in a way that was automatically suspicious, because Robin isn’t very good at hiding things.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Nothing.” When Steve only gives her a pointed look, Robin continues, “Well… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Now, Robin is one of Steve’s closest friends, and him one of hers, and she supports him in pretty much everything that he does even when she teases him relentlessly along the way, but she cares about both of you and doesn’t want to see anyone hurt.

She can read Steve better than he can read himself, probably, because to Robin, it’s clear that he feels more than friendly towards you. And he doesn’t even know it.

When they became closer, it was clear to Robin, even before meeting you, just from the way Steve spoke of you, that there was a spot reserved for you in his life that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.

He would say it’s that of ‘best friend’ but Robin would call it something even bigger than that. Still, even though she thinks he’s an absolute dingus, she’s trying to let Steve figure it out for himself.

Clearly, it’s taking fucking forever.

He looks confused at her question, “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

Robin sighs and resists the urge to drop her forehead against the desk and decides on, “You know what they say: become friends with your roommates, don’t become roommates with your friends.”

“Whoever they are, they’re dumb as shit,” Steve says. “She’s been over, slept over, hundreds of times. It’s not any different, just longer.”

“I guess so,” she settles on. “The rules of the world never really seem to apply to you two.”

“That’s because the rules of the world are also dumb as shit.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever tried following them.”

“‘Cause I’m a rule breaker, Robs.”

Steve wiggles his eyebrows. Robin shoves the rolling chair he’s sitting on with her foot, sending it into the other side of the desk with a thud.

“Don’t think that smoking weed in your backyard is enough to call yourself a rule breaker, dingus.”

-

That night, your routine was pretty much the same.

Steve was already waiting for you in his car when you left the arcade, a smile spreading onto his face when he saw you making your way across the parking lot to him, your skirt swishing a little with the breeze.

Rather than go straight home, you made a stop at your apartment to talk things over with the couple who owned the home. They’d met with a builder and plumber about getting everything fixed and wanted to walk you through it all.

Steve came with you and held your hand, and both of them cooed at him and pinched his cheeks and called him a cutie before getting to the important stuff.

After going over what had to be done (rip out the carpet, replace it, fix the pipes and make sure no others were at risk, replace the ceiling, and more you couldn’t even remember already), they’d assured you that they would be taking care of it all. Covering the entire cost.

You probably would’ve argued if not for how little money was in your bank account, and how stubborn you knew these people to be. Instead, you’d squeezed them both and thanked them while your eyes grew misty with tears.

Steve’s hand stayed in yours and squeezed when you sniffled.

He knew, because he knew pretty much everything about you, that these people were kinder to you than even your own parents. That, if this had happened at their house, they would’ve found a way to blame you for it.

You feel lucky to have found that kind of parental love elsewhere, sad that you didn’t know exactly what it felt like beforehand.

After giving the couple Steve’s phone number to call in case they needed you and giving them both another hug, you and Steve headed back home.

Home, you call it. Like it’s yours.

Sometimes it feels like it is.

Later, after you and Steve have both showered and had dinner and gotten comfy in your sweats, you’re back in the living room, Steve shows you the movie he’s brought back this time.

“Gremlins?” You ask, smiling and shaking your head.

“Hell yeah, angel. It’s a classic.”

Steve sets everything up, joining you on the couch after pressing ‘play’ on the movie and adjusting the volume with your guidance.

“So, how was work?” Steve asks during the opening credits. The two of you have a hard time being next to each other and not talking. It’s why you get dirty looks whenever you go to the movies.

“Weekdays are so boring, Steve,” you say, letting your head fall against the back of the couch. “You’re so lucky you have Robin to entertain you during the day. I think I dusted like, ten times at least.”

“Robin is a pain in my ass.” He says. He doesn’t really mean it, because even when she is, he’s glad to have her around. A different kind of gladness than he feels with you. “She kept pushing me every time I sat in the rolling chair. There’s probably a dent in the desk.”

“That’s because you were probably hogging the chair, Steve.”

“What the fuck!” Steve’s smiling when he says it, lacking any sort of anger. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Your smile mirrors his, the way it always does. It’s contagious, you think, the way his eyes crinkle at the corner.

Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know, I’d wanna push you around on that chair too, I think.”

“You’d spin me too much. I’d get sick all over you and then nobody’s happy.”

“Don’t talk about barf while I’m eating, Harrington.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at him. It bounces off his cheek and lands on his lap, and he doesn’t even flinch. Steve just picks it up and pops it into his mouth.

When the bowl’s empty, you lean forward and set it on the coffee table before sinking back into the couch, Steve's shoulder brushing yours. You let the warmth seep through your clothes and shut your eyes.

It’s a little more than halfway through the movie when Steve realizes you’re asleep. You’d been quiet, sure, but Steve only thought that meant you were paying attention to the movie.

That was, until your head slipped and rested against his shoulder.

He looked down at you, at the hair falling across your forehead (he smoothed it away gently, so it wouldn’t be in your eyes or your mouth), your eyebrows relaxed and free of any worry, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

He thinks of how tired you must be, after everything. Your apartment and dealing with the aftermath both emotionally and physically, working long shifts most days to keep your bank account full.

Steve, though he doesn’t let himself look too deep into it, also thinks of how beautiful you are. Now and always.

Not wanting you to get a kink in your neck from the position, Steve decides to rouse you from sleep as gently as possible. He slips a hand under your head to keep it steady and maneuvers himself to kneel in front of you.

“Hey, angel,” he almost whispers, thumb dragging across your cheek. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Your nose scrunches and you grumble, but after some coaxing, you blink your eyes open and squint at Steve. You blame your half-asleep mind on the way you nuzzle into his palm. “Hmm?”

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble.

Steve laughs softly. “Don’t be sorry, I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

The warmth of his hand leaves your cheek as he stands and holds his hands out for you to grab. He pulls you up off the couch and starts leading you towards the stairs.

You knuckle at your eyes on the way, a tiny smile gracing your face at how sweet Steve’s being. As if you haven’t fallen asleep on his couch plenty of times before.

Still sleepy, you stumble a little on the stairs, but Steve catches you easily with an arm around your waist and a small “Careful.”

He leaves his arm there the rest of the way to what’s become your bedroom, guiding you over to the bed and lifting the covers for you.

Tomorrow, you’ll regret not brushing your teeth or washing your face before climbing in bed. But today, you don’t feel like risking not being able to sleep again if you wake yourself up further.

You’re practically asleep again by the time you’re settled with your head on the pillow as Steve tugs the blankets over you.

You’re just awake enough to feel the light press of his lips on your forehead and a soft “Goodnight, angel” against your skin before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

-

On a random Thursday that you and Steve both have off, he convinces you to let him take you to the mall.

“We should go shopping,” he says when you walk into the kitchen. It’s a little later in the morning, having slept in since it’s a day off, the sun slipping through the window in warm beams.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Like, groceries?”

“No, like shopping shopping. You know, the mall?”

You lean against the kitchen island, the countertop cool on your back where it touches the sliver of skin between your tank top and sleep shorts. Steve has his shoulder against the fridge, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his muscles. Not that you’re looking.

You squint at him, trying to find his motive on his face. “You literally buy whatever the mannequins are wearing to avoid shopping.”

“That’s what they’re there for!” The sass in his voice has you biting back a smile. “You need new clothes,” he continues, “and I need to get out of this house.”

“We can do something else, Steve,” you say. “I thought you hated shopping.”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” There’s a pause, Steve’s eyes lowering to that sliver of skin above your shorts. He flicks them back to your face quickly, hoping you didn’t notice, because even he’s not sure what compelled his eyes to wander. “Plus, Eddie called me a hermit the other day and I really can’t stand for that, can I?”

“Ohhh,” you ignore the way your skin suddenly feels warm beneath his gaze, “so you need to make a public appearance to prove Eddie wrong?”

“Exactly. We’ll replace some of the things you lost and restore my reputation. Two birds, one stone, right angel?”

So that’s how you’d ended up at the mall. After Starcourt burnt down, the closest place was a couple towns over, and Steve (as always) offered to drive.

He lets you pick the music the entire way, sings along when you hold your water bottle by his mouth like a microphone, even attempts to harmonize with you which just ends in laughter because neither of you sounded that great.

You’re a couple of stores in, and Steve’s been complaint-free so far—which makes sense, since this was his idea, but you’ve caught him side-eyeing some things, so you know he’s got some remarks in his head he just hasn’t said out loud—and follows you around as you browse. You try not to take too long, because you can’t imagine that this is any fun for him.

“How about that one?” Steve asks, pointing at one of the dresses hanging along the store’s wall.

He’d seen your apartment, though that was a bit ago, and he remembered what you’d lost the most of, along with the type of stuff you like. He pays attention like that, in small, quiet ways that you think mean the most.

He knows you. He cares enough to know you.

“Yeah, that’s really pretty, actually,” you admit.

At your approval, Steve grabs one in your size (which he also just happens to know) and adds it to the couple of things he’d already been holding for you. Every time you picked something up, he was quick to snatch it from you, telling you it was ‘too hard to browse with your hands full.’

After making your way through the rest of the store, you decided to head back to try things on, holding out a hand for the stuff Steve’s holding. “You can wait out here, I’ll be quick.”

“Hold on,” he says, holding the hangers out of your reach. “Why do you think I’m here, angel? I wanna help you pick.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Give me a fashion show, yeah?”

“Oh my God,” you mumble, letting him follow you to the fitting rooms.

They’re hidden behind the back wall of the store, a hallway painted bright blue with pink changeroom doors on one side, and white benches along the other.

“Hi there,” an employee with auburn hair greets you both, her smile wide and kind, though you know it’s a practiced one. Customer service smile. “How many you got there, darling?”

“Oh, um,” you turn back towards Steve, who’s counting the hangers in his hand. “Five.”

“Perfect!” The girl takes the key hanging around her neck and unlocks one of the rooms for you. She takes the clothes from Steve and hangs them up inside for you, then turns to the two of you and says, “Your man can have a seat right here. We call them the ‘boyfriend benches.’”

“He’s not my-”

“Thanks,” Steve says, cutting off your correction because for some reason he didn’t want you to correct her.

Did he… like the idea of being your boyfriend?

Fuck. No. He just didn’t want you to have to explain the whole situation in your rambly way. That’s all.

The redhead smiles again, “Holler if you need anything,” she says before walking off.

You stand there for a second, something like confusion on your face. Did it look like you were boyfriend and girlfriend?

“Come on,” Steve says, snapping the both of you out of whatever that was. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“I can't believe you’re making me do this,” you say, walking into the fitting room and shutting the door.

You try on a couple of sweaters first, and Steve feels the fabric both times, making sure that it’s not scratchy on your skin. Then, there’s just some basic t-shirts that aren’t all that exciting, but Steve says they look nice anyway.

Finally, you get to the dress he picked out.

It really was pretty. A midi-length with a ruffled hem and straps that tie into little bows on your shoulders. You don’t always feel good in your clothes. Sometimes you wish you could crawl out of your skin when you look into the mirror, but right now, you don’t hate what you see.

You actually like it.

“Well?” Steve calls softly from the bench.

In response, you open the door and step out so he can see you.

Steve’s seen you in plenty of dresses—hell, you went to prom together—but for some reason this one makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker. Maybe it’s simply the fact that it looks great on you, or the way you’re smiling shyly as he looks you over.

Or, maybe it’s because he’s the one who picked it.

He stands up, spinning his finger in the air in a gesture for you to twirl. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. The hallway of fitting rooms isn’t very big, so with both of you in it, you’re standing toe to toe, the gold flecks in the middle of Steve’s eyes and the faint freckles that dot his nose are visible from where you stand.

As if he can’t help it, Steve lifts a finger and dips it beneath the strap on your shoulder. Not moving it or undoing it, just gliding along your skin where it sits.

“You look beautiful,” he says. His voice goes all quiet and soft when he says it, and his eyes widen a tiny bit, like he hadn’t meant it to slip out that way. It sounded… more than friendly. He clears his throat and steps back as much as he can in the small space, his finger leaving your skin. “I have great taste. Clearly.”

You blink at him, then shake yourself out of it as much as you can. “Yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” You lift the tag where it hangs by your armpit and look at the price. You gasp and swat Steve’s arm. “Steve! Why would you let me walk into a place so expensive?”

You probably should’ve looked at the tag beforehand, but here you are. Steve, shrugging exaggeratedly, says, “I didn’t know!”

“Okay, I’m gonna change before she comes back. We can make a run for it.”

“We’re not stealing.”

“I know, but they look at you all judgemental when you try stuff on and don’t buy something. Trust me.”

You turn and go back into the fitting room to put on your own clothes, taking a look at the dress in the mirror one last time before shaking your head at yourself.

Steve, however, takes the opportunity to leave you and head back out into the store. He finds the dress easily and grabs another one in your size from the rack and heads to the cashier.

He’s just finishing up, bag in hand, when you walk out and meet him at the front of the store.

“For you,” he says, holding out the bag for you to take.

“Steve…” You grab it and look inside. Your chest aches when you see the dress, your heart suddenly too full and your stomach fluttering stupidly. “You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine with something from the Gap.”

“I know that,” he says, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck. It’s a nervous tick of his, and the thought of him being nervous right now makes you melt even more. “I wanted to get it for you. You looked too pretty in it not to have it.”

Your eyes catch his, and again, something passes between you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. A fizzle, a spark.

You rock back on your feet, looking down at the ground before meeting his eyes again. They’re so fucking soft it makes you wonder how lucky you have to be to have him in your life. Being your best friend, driving you to work even when he doesn’t have a shift, offering you a place to stay, buying you a dress.

He’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.

“Well,” you twist the straps of the bag around your fingers just to keep them busy. “Thank you, Steve. This is really nice.”

His knuckle traces down your arm just once, featherlight. “You’re welcome, angel.”

You don’t buy anything else after that, instead stopping at the food court for fries, stealing from each other’s baskets, smiling and slapping hands away.

It’s the best day you’ve had in a while.

-

You don’t think anything you do will convey just how grateful you are that Steve has been so kind to you. Always, but especially now. Letting you stay with him and refusing to let you pay rent. (“I don’t even pay rent, and I live here all the time.”)

But, this morning, you’ve decided you’re gonna try.

Steve’s favorite meal of the day happens to be breakfast, which is funny, considering he usually eats something as simple as cereal. He’d told you once that it was because, as a kid, breakfast was the most peaceful of meals, his parents too busy getting ready for work or wherever they were going that he’d have the kitchen table to himself.

Lunch was usually spent at school, and Steve was never a fan of school to begin with. Then there was dinner, which his parents (when they were home) still wanted to have all together. They’d ask him questions and make backhanded comments about every single answer he gave. He never won at dinner.

So, breakfast was, and has remained, his favorite.

You made sure to get up early enough to give yourself time to get everything ready before he wakes up. Steve’s usually the one making the coffee in the morning, and you figured the least you could do was give him a break.

Yesterday, while Steve had been at work, you went over to the Wheeler’s and asked Nancy if you could borrow their waffle maker. She’d directed the question to her mother, who went and grabbed it for you and handed it over with a smile. You promised to take good care of it and have it back in a couple of days.

By the time Steve walks into the kitchen, you’ve already made the batter and set out the toppings—berries, maple syrup, whipped cream—like a buffet. However, he just so happens to come in as you’re swearing at the waffle maker.

“Stupid fucking thing,” you mutter, trying to open it.

Steve smiles to himself before saying, “Morning, angel.”

You jump at his voice, not having heard him walk in. When you turn around, your heart beats for a different reason.

Steve’s still only in his pajama pants, plaid and soft, hanging low on his hips. And he’s shirtless, his chest smattered with hair and his skin a little tanned from the sun. He’s got beauty marks all over, like a constellation you could chart, and his abs are just visible beneath the soft of his stomach. A trail of hair leading to the waistband of his pants and disappearing beneath them.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless plenty of times. Swimming and sleeping over in the summer, in high school when you used to go to his practices, but it hits you harder for some reason this time.

The way his hair is still a mess from sleep, his eyes a bit heavy. The way it feels to be greeting him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Intimate. Domestic.

You clear your throat and turn back around to pry the waffle maker open, revealing a slightly burnt but otherwise good-looking waffle. “I’m making breakfast. Coffee’s already in the pot, too.”

He walks over, his chest close to your back as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above you before heading over to pour himself a cup. He looks at the spread you’ve prepared, “Waffles, huh? What did I do to deserve all this?”

“Just wanted to do something nice for you,” you say as Steve walks over to lean against the counter next to you, his hip barely touching yours. “To thank you, in a way. For letting me stay and the dress and-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me?” He says, though his voice is soft and still a bit rough from sleep. “I like having you around.”

“So you don’t want the waffles then?”

“Oh, I want the waffles. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me. It’s not some debt you’ll owe me, angel.”

“Want you to know I appreciate you is all,” you say, pouring a new scoop of batter into the waffle maker.

Steve, unsure of what exactly possesses him to do so, dips in and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, his lips a whisper away from your skin when he says, “I appreciate you, too.”

Then he pulls away and moves to set the table. Like it was natural.

And it was, in a way. How you moved around each other in the kitchen. You leaning out of the way when he needed to reach something you were blocking, him putting a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you so you knew he was there.

Your cheek still tingles from where he’d kissed it when you bring the plate of waffles to the table, your skin somehow even warmer under his gaze, like he’s still remembering exactly how it felt, too.

You sit in the chair beside Steve, not noticing the way he tugs it a bit closer to him with his foot before you sit down. Soon enough, both of you are digging in. Steve’s got more whipped cream on his plate than waffle (you tell him as much) and you’ve got your berries on the side the way you always do.

Neither of you work until later in the day, and it’s nice knowing that you can take your time. Steve tells you about the advice he gave Dustin about how to be ‘cooler’ in school (he’d told him that being cool is completely overrated, he knew from experience, and that being himself is the most important). You’d told him he was going soft with age.

You talk about anything at all. How Keith somehow manages both of your places of work, how he also somehow does both terribly. The way he says ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ while literally having Cheeto dust on his fingers. Laughing at each other’s impressions of him.

What the new highscores were at the arcade, what people were renting from Family Video.

You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to leave. When you’re living alone again.

Logically, you know you’ll still see Steve frequently, because he’s your favorite person and you can’t remember the last time you went longer than a few days without hanging out. Still, it’ll be different than right now, waking up in the same space and sharing breakfast and brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror.

You’ll miss it, you think.

Trying not to dwell on something that’s still a few weeks away, you take another bite of your waffle. Steve catches your chin and wipes off a bit of whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, then pulling away and sucking it off his thumb.

He goes back to his own plate without a thought. Like touching you just now was an instinct.

Then, he teases you, “These are a little crispy, angel. Maybe you should stick to letting me make breakfast in this household.”

You kick his leg under the table. “That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you,’ Harrington.”

He kicks you back, much gentler than you’d been. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

When you look at him, there’s an easy, boyish smile on his face.

A similar one stretches across your own lips.

-

Steve has had the thought pop up into his head a couple of times, that maybe he should’ve just asked you to live with him before you ever bought that apartment. Because having you around feels the most right things have ever felt in his house.

And though the circumstances of your moving in with him (temporarily, he has to remind himself), were far from ideal, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t glad that you’ve ended up sharing his space.

The room across the hall will always be yours, even when you move back to your place.

He knows that you feel indebted to him for all of it, but if anyone owes the other something, he feels like it’s him. For everything you’ve ever done for him. Sticking around even when he was an asshole in highschool, defending him to his parents whenever you’d cross paths, simply being the kind of friend he needed.

Even when you’re not around, he can picture your face, the way your smile spreads slowly until you’re fucking beaming. Worse, the way you cried into his chest that day at your apartment.

He remembers the crack in your voice when you spoke about that picture frame from summer camp. Though he hasn’t seen you cry since, or even bring it up, he’s decided he wants to fix it. He’d told you he would.

Dustin wound up roped into his plan: find a similar frame, decorate it the exact same way, and scour the photo albums in Steve’s room for his copy of that same picture.

When he was younger, the photo albums pissed him off, because they were purely for show. Pictures of his family that were all fake smiles. Now, he’s glad for them, because at least he has some good memories to look back on. To know it wasn’t always all bad.

Steve probably should’ve thought that one through, because when they looked through his albums, he was on the receiving end of relentless teasing from Dustin. (“Dude, you have an insane boogie in this picture.” “I was four!”)

He hopes it’ll be worth it.

Dustin was the one who found the picture they’d been looking for, and he cheered and waved it in Steve’s face as if they’d been racing.

Now, after driving Dustin back home, decorating the frame the way the two of you did as kids, trying to make his handwriting look like it did back then (which wasn’t too difficult, ‘cause Steve’s writing still isn’t that neat), he’s waiting for you to come downstairs before giving it to you.

He’d picked you up after your shift at the arcade not too long ago, but he knows you like to shower and change as soon as you get home from work, so he’d taken the opportunity to wrap the frame and have it ready for you.

Steve can hear you singing in the shower, and he knows you’re done when it goes quiet. A few minutes later you’re walking down the stairs in a baggy t-shirt and silky sleep shorts.

His eyes, for some reason, linger on your legs for a second.

He stands up, frame in his hand, when you walk over. “I have something for you.”

“Steve! Stop buying me things. Seriously.”

“This thing was free, so you can’t even be mad,” he says, smiling almost sheepishly.

Your eyes search his face, flickering between his own and dipping down to his lips and his nose and back to his eyes. He looks… nervous.

Steve’s never nervous around you.

“Okay,” you say, shuffling on your feet. “What is it?”

“Here,” he hands you the poorly-wrapped frame. “Open it.”

You scrunch your brows at him once, because you have no idea what it could be. It isn’t your birthday, or any sort of holiday at all. With zero guesses, you look down at the light yellow wrapping paper in your hands and slowly tear it open.

What you find makes your eyes grow misty, tears pooling at your lash line but not quite falling.

It’s your favorite picture, the one of you and Steve in those stupid neon shirts with messy hair and dirt on your hands. Only now, it’s not water damaged, and the frame is new, but decorated just like the old one. You run your thumbs over the glass lightly, smiling down at little you and little Steve.

When you look back up at him, he’s already looking at you, his brown eyes all warm, his smile kind but also worried, waiting for your reaction.

Seeing his face springs you into motion, jumping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly with the frame still in your hand. “Thank you,” you say into his skin.

Steve’s arms move to hold you around your waist without a thought. A reflex. They squeeze you close to him, his nose pressed into your damp hair, smelling your shampoo.

“It’s not perfect,” he says. “But I know how much you love that picture, and I wanted to fix it.”

“Steve. Shut up. It is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, his thumbs running back and forth against your back.

You hug for what could’ve been minutes, but neither of you moves to pull away first. You’re not sure if it’s still considered friendly to stand in each other's arms, breathing each other in, for so long, but you don’t care at the moment.

This is probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for you in a long, long time.

When you finally do pull away, you don’t go far. Your arms stay slung over his shoulders, Steve’s hands framing your hips. His thumbs still dragging those sweet patterns against you.

“I’m keeping it forever,” you tell him.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Certain. You’ll always be my best friend, Steve.”

“You’ll always be mine too, angel.”

Then, your eyes both move to each other’s lips, yours flick back up in a second, startled at their wandering.

Steve, however, is a bit transfixed. He looks at the slope of your cupid’s bow, the way your lips are shiny from your lip balm. He thinks it quickly, like a gust of wind that can’t be stopped: I really wanna kiss her right now.

Fuck. He wants to kiss his best friend.

He blinks a few times, clearing his throat and pulling back, letting his hands fall from your waist as yours slide off his shoulders. He misses the feel of your touch immediately, but he’s too freaked out and confused to do anything about it.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” he asks, cutting off his own thoughts. “I brought back a horror and a comedy. Take your pick.”

“Mmm,” he picks up two tapes from the coffee table and holds them up for you to choose from. “Horror. Unless you’re too scared?”

“You’ll just have to hold my hand, then, won’t you?”

“I guess I will.”

You look back at the picture while Steve puts the movie into the player. You smile at it every time you see it, because you can still see parts of Steve in him now that were in him then.

His eyes, always kind, the way he smiles when he laughs, and about a half hour into the movie, the way he holds your hand and squeezes it when he’s scared.

-

You’re having one of those nights. The kind where sleep seems to be fighting you.

You worked a closing shift at the arcade, which usually lasts until late considering how long you’re open plus all of the cleaning you have to do afterwards. Today was no different, and despite how much later you finish than him at Family Video, Steve waited and drove you home. He hung out in the arcade with you until close, actually.

You’d think that after such a long day, the second your head hit the pillow you’d be out and breathing steadily. Today, that is not the case. You fell asleep for maybe an hour before a nightmare woke you up. You can’t quite remember what happened, only that you’d been yelling for Steve and he wasn’t there.

Groaning quietly, you rub your eyes and toss the blankets away. You stand up and head down to the kitchen in the dark, hand trailing along the walls to make sure you don’t bump into anything.

Just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of water, you hear the shuffle of sleepy footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” he says, walking over to grab a glass, one hand on his bare chest. “I thought you were a ghost or something just now.”

You shift out of the way to let him get some water just like you did, taking the second that he’s distracted to look at him. His hair a mess, wearing nothing but his boxers. You take a big sip from your glass.

“I feel like I should be offended right now,” you say, “if you think I look like a ghost.”

“Shut up,” he says, dragging out the second word. His voice being rough from sleep makes his words sound much warmer than they are. “My eyes aren’t awake yet. Nothing to do with you, angel.”

You shake your head, though there’s a soft smile on your face the way there always seems to be when you try to be annoyed with Steve. You tilt your head at him, asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shakes his head. “Been tossing and turning. Just can’t get comfortable, then I got pissed ‘cause I couldn’t get comfortable and only made it worse.”

“You would get pissed at that. Probably slapped your pillow like it was at fault.”

He folds his lips inwards and blinks at you. Because he did smack his pillow and call it a dipshit. “Why do you know everything? Spying on me?”

“Hate to say it, but you’re getting predictable, Harrington.” You shrug, then move to put your now empty glass in the dishwasher. “I know you too well.”

He looks at you, your hair falling across your shoulders, your pajama shorts riding up a little as you bend down. The moonlight slipping through the window seems to hit you perfectly. Like a halo.

Fitting, he thinks. You’re his angel, after all.

“Yeah, you do,” he agrees. Then, “What about you? Why’re you up?”

“Nightmare. Been forever since I had one.”

“You okay?” he asks, trailing a knuckle over your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it.

“Yeah,” you say, skin tingling where he’d touched you. “I can't even remember most of it, but now my brain won’t let me sleep.”

Steve wishes he could’ve protected you from whatever haunted you in your sleep. It’s silly, he knows, to think he might be able to ward away anything that hurts you, but he wants to, nonetheless.

He thinks about how comfortable he is whenever you cuddle during movie night. Your head on his shoulder or his chest, his hand on your back or waist.

So, he blurts, “Why don’t you sleep over?”

You furrow your brows at him, “Um, I’ve been sleeping over. A couple of weeks now, actually.”

“No, I mean, like in my room with me,” he says, suddenly shy at the idea. He’s grateful for the darkness, because he can feel his cheeks warming up. “A proper sleepover.”

You’ve done it before. Shared a bed a bunch of times, but for some reason your heart jumps when he says it. Your stomach swirls as you say, maybe a little too quickly, “Okay.”

Steve’s eyes widen like he’s surprised, just for a split second, before a soft smile takes over his face. He holds out a hand for you to take, “C’mon.”

Soon enough, Steve’s lifting his navy bedspread for you, letting you slip into bed next to him. He stays further away at first, letting you settle and lay on your side the way he knows you always do.

You blame sleepiness—or, maybe, the lack thereof—for the way you reach behind you for his arm and tug him closer, draping it over your own waist.

He obliges, of course, his arm securing itself across your stomach, palm spread out and warm against your sleep shirt. His chest is only a breath away from your back, though he keeps his lower half a little more distanced.

His thumb runs circles over your shirt, once, twice, three times before stilling, his forehead pressing to the back of your neck.

“Goodnight, angel,” he says into your hair.

Your hand splays itself on top of his. “Night, Steve.”

And suddenly your eyes grow heavier, and sleep doesn’t feel like much of a battle anymore.

-

You wake up the most rested you’ve felt in a while. There’s warmth surrounding you, but not the uncomfortable kind. The kind that feels safe.

Somehow, you and Steve are even closer than you’d been when you fell asleep. His arm is still around your waist, his other outstretched and tucked beneath your head like a pillow. His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel it expand with every breath he takes.

Most differently of all, however, is the way his hips are snug against the curve of your butt. And you can feel him hard against you.

Your skin feels even warmer than before when you notice.

Steve hasn’t woken up yet, you don’t think, because the faintest snores are getting puffed out against your shoulder where his face is tucked. His hand on your stomach has worked its way beneath your shirt, though, and his fingertips press against your skin, like he’s fighting to keep you close.

As if you’d go anywhere even in your sleep.

His knee is tucked between your legs, and you’re quickly realizing that it’d be pretty impossible to get out of bed without him noticing. You’re completely tangled together, a knot of limbs somehow fitting together just right. Like two puzzle pieces.

In his sleep, Steve’s mouth presses against the back of your shoulder, and only when you involuntarily shiver at the contact, does he stir.

It takes Steve a bit to really wake up, mumbling words that don’t make sense, scrunching his eyes shut even further before blinking them open. He’s met with the sight of you right in front of him. Body curved perfectly against his.

“Steve? You awake?” you ask, checking.

“Mhm,” he hums.

Then, something that has his cheeks flushing pink, he registers the feeling of his boner pressed against your ass. He shuffles them back enough so there’s space between you. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. Because he can’t control the way his body reacts while he’s asleep.

“I didn’t think-” he cuts himself off, because he’s not quite sure how to say I didn’t think about the whole morning wood factor or that I’d fucking plaster myself to you when I suggested a sleepover without sounding stupid. Instead, he just repeats, “I’m sorry.”

You twist yourself around to face him, sheets crumpling and twisting as you move. When you settle back onto the pillow and look at his face, at the redness on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, you squeeze his hand that’s now laying between you.

“It’s okay, really,” you say. “It’s, like, anatomy. You’re human, Steve.”

“I don’t want you to think I invited you to sleep in here for some pervy reason,” he says, scrunching his nose when he says it.

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell him. You squeeze his hand again. “We’ve shared a bed like, a hundred times by now. If anything I’m surprised this hasn’t happened already.”

“Oh my God,” he groans, shutting his eyes and pushing his face into the pillow.

“Steve,” you drag out his name, fighting a giggle at the way he’s acting. He’s got a reputation, after all, and how shy and embarrassed he seems to be doesn’t reflect the things you heard about him in high school. He’s changed a lot since then. “It’s seriously fine. We can pretend it never happened. Promise.”

Steve pulls his face from the pillow, eyes catching yours as his fingers squeeze yours back in appreciation. He lets his eyes wander a bit, at the messy bits of your hair around your face from sleeping, the marks in your cheek from the pillowcase, the way your sleep shirt has fallen off your shoulder.

He feels lucky to get to see you this way, right after you’ve woken up. Vulnerable, unguarded, beautiful.

It’s during this small stretch of silence that you realize how close your faces are now. You’re sharing a pillow, his nose not even an inch from yours. Shift forward the slightest bit, and they’d be touching. Your eyes trail down to his mouth, to the visible patch of chest hair and the freckles that dot his skin. He’s already looking right at you when your eyes flick back upwards.

You know Steve, could tell what he’s feeling just from the look on his face, but this is one you’ve never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

Steve moves first, his eyes a little darker than usual, shifting forward slightly, then looking at you. Daring you to make the next move.

“What if we didn’t forget about it?” he says. Quiet and scratchy.

You don’t have time to think before you move forward a bit, too. Your noses brush. “What would that mean?”

Steve doesn’t answer with words. Rather, he moves forward the final bit and brushes his lips against yours in a question mark of a kiss, giving you time to pull away.

You don’t.

Instead, the hand of yours that isn’t still holding his comes up to the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to do it again. His free hand tightens at your waist as he dips in a second time.

It isn’t as tentative now that you’ve urged him on. His lips meet yours more sure, more firm, but still soft against you. Neither of you cares one bit about morning breath, or about what this might change. As if the morning’s haze slows time, minds still a little sleepy.

You’re simply acting on instinct. And this feels too right to stop.

Soon enough it grows more heated, Steve shifting to hover over you, his elbows pushing into the mattress to hold himself up, his tongue sneaking out to lick against the seam of your lips for permission.

Just as you open up for him, the blaring sound of Steve's alarm cuts you off, pulling back with a gasp. He simply leans up on one arm and slams the snooze button—and you laugh, you laugh, at how hard he hits it—before diving back into you.

You feel hot all over, where one of Steve’s hands has moved to cup your jaw, his thumb running delicately against your face as his mouth moves against yours, practically devouring you. Where the blankets are still over your lower halves, trapping in heat. When he pulls back, looks into your eyes, fucking smiles all dopey and pretty, and then kisses you again.

It’s so good, you’re almost angry at yourself for not kissing him sooner.

You kiss until his alarm goes off again and Steve's forced to pry himself away from you, groaning about being on his ‘last tardy warning’ from Keith.

Still, he takes the time to kiss your forehead on his way out, Family Video vest slung over his shoulder, calling a sweet, “bye, angel,” on his way out. His hair’s still a mess from your fingers, and he doesn’t even seem to mind.

You stay in his bed longer than you probably should, blinking up at the ceiling, fingers pressed against your lips like you’re searching for physical proof that everything was real.

What the fuck just happened?

-

It’s been a couple of weeks, and Steve can’t stop thinking about that kiss. He doesn’t know it, but you can’t stop thinking about it either.

Neither of you have brought it up, and things have faded back to normal as if it had never happened. But you and Steve are both thinking the same things without knowing it. How good and natural and easy it felt, how, every now and then, you think about doing it again.

You talk and joke and watch movies and eat meals together the same way you always have, and it’d be so easy to stay that way, to never kiss again. But then, what if you could stay that way and kiss? Wouldn’t that be something close to perfect?

You lay awake thinking about it every few nights. Because, when you really reflect on your life and how intertwined it is with Steve’s, you realize that you’ve sort of always acted like a couple, minus the kissing and sex aspect. You go on what could easily be classified as dates—the movies, lunch or dinner—you cuddle on the couch almost nightly, and you’ve never shied away from physical touch with one another. Held hands, a palm on your back.

You haven’t brought it up with Steve because you haven’t even come to terms with it yourself. Feelings are so fucking confusing and messy and you’d like to have a better idea of what’s going on in your own head before asking him about his.

Meanwhile, Steve has allowed himself to come to terms with it. He’s in love with you.

He’s pretty sure he has been for a while. Months, maybe even years.

It hadn’t come easily, though. It was nights spent similarly to yours, running through interactions you’ve had and the way he felt that one time in senior year when you went on a date with some guy from your math class. Even then, a part of him felt wrong about it, that pit in his gut.

Then there were his shifts with Robin at Family Video where he’d practically spilled everything just to get her opinion. She looked up and sighed “thank you” before saying that it was nice of him to finally catch on.

Had he really been that obvious? All this time? And had he really been that oblivious to his own feelings?

Steve can’t answer those questions. He can’t say when his love for you changed from platonic to romantic, he just knows that it has and he doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from it.

You’re his best friend in the entire world, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and he can’t picture himself loving anyone but you so wholly.

He’s fucking terrified of losing you, but he’s also terrified of never telling you how he feels and testing that what if.

So, like a desperate idiot, he knocks on the door to Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie opens it after a minute and what sounded like him stubbing his toe, “oh, hey Harrington. More weed?”

“No, shut up. I need your help.”

“You,” Eddie points at Steve, then at himself, “need my help for something? Are you ill?”

“Okay,” Steve, dramatic and bitchy as usual, sighs and mutters something about this being a stupid idea and turns to leave.

“Come on,” Eddie laughs, “I’m just joking. What’s up?”

Soon enough, Steve’s sitting on Eddie’s couch, Eddie pacing in front of the coffee table like this is a very serious matter, and telling him pretty much everything. Your kiss, the train of thought it sparked.

“Basically I’m in love with her and I have no clue what to do,” Steve finishes, sinking back into the couch cushions. It squeaks as he shifts.

Eddie pauses, tugging at his bottom lip between his fingers, then looks at Steve and says, “You know I’ve never dated anyone in my life, right?”

Steve groans into his hands, “Why do all of my friends have to be losers with no dating lives.”

Eddie ignores that, because he can tell how affected Steve actually is by all of this. How much he cares. He walks over and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. “Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, telling her how you feel?”

Steve rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and letting his head hang for a moment before picking it up. “Of course I have, but I’m fuckin’ scared.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um, she could reject me and not feel the same way and everything would be awkward because I ruined it and I’d lose my best friend in the entire world.”

“What if she does feel the same?” Eddie asks.

He’s both yours and Steve’s friend, he’s been around the both of you together. He’s seen the way you look at each other. Eddie might not be an expert, but it’s always looked a lot like love to him. He’s pretty sure the chances of you feeling the same are quite high.

“What do you mean?”

“What if she does feel the same and you never figure it out because you’re too afraid?” Eddie says. “Man, don’t you think that risk is worth taking?”

Steve thinks about it, and as much as he hates to admit it, Eddie’s right. He’d hate to always wonder, to lose out on the chance to really be with you when he knows it could be so good.

You are worth the risk to him.

“When the fuck did you become so wise, Munson?”

“Dunno,” Eddie shrugs. “Wanna smoke?”

Steve laughs, “Yes I do.”

-

With Steve gone at work and you off for the day, there’s been too much room for your thoughts to creep in. Too much silence.

You’ve already been thinking about things so much. Thinking about him so much, that in his absence, your mind seemed to work overtime to fill in the gaps.

You thought about the day he picked you up from your apartment, how quick he was to drop whatever he’d been doing and come over and help you and take you home with him. The day he took you shopping and bought you a dress because he thought you looked pretty in it, the way his fingers fiddled with the strap on your shoulder when you tried it on for him.

The day he gifted you a remade version of your favorite picture from summer camp because he knew how much it meant to you, the way you held on to each other afterwards.

How you’d been waiting for him to get home that night he went to Eddie’s, just to make sure he was okay. How when he came in, he smiled at the sight of you curled on the couch, and he kissed your cheek when he walked by like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your brain knew he was high, you could smell the weed mingling with his cologne on his clothes when he leaned in close, but your heart didn’t care about that. It thumped in your chest the second he leaned in closer, even worse when his lips touched your cheek.

The realization hits you now like a shock, a quick zip of electricity running through your system. You fucking love him.

Sure, you’ve loved Steve practically your whole life, but this was different. You love him, love him. Like, you want to kiss him when he comes home from work and in the morning. You want him to introduce you as his girlfriend and to be able to call him your boyfriend.

You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner, because looking back on things now, knowing how you feel, you can see it written throughout your entire friendship. Holding hands and kissing foreheads and hands pushing hair away from faces.

For a second, you’re purely happy, because you get to be in love with your best friend and it feels as warm and sweet as sunlight. Then, the fear creeps in, and you’re scared. Scared of losing him, of making things weird, of change and doing the wrong thing.

So scared that you start to panic and pack up some of your things in your bag like you’re running away.

Truthfully, you’re not sure what else to do. You’ve never been in love before, you’ve never known it this way—so kind and unconditional. And your parents sure as hell didn’t set a good example for you. They’d fight, and someone would leave with the slam of a door, and then they’d be back and the cycle would continue.

You’re scared and confused and your instincts are telling you to run away even though the only place you really wanna be is with Steve. In his arms.

You’re stuffing clothes into your bag just to keep your hands busy, breathing hard and fast, when you hear the front door open and close. Steve’s quick to find you, his eyes scanning your room and then looking at you. “What are you doing?”

You feel like you might cry just looking at him. His brown eyes worried but warm as always, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s nervous.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until later,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the shake in your voice.

“It was dead, so Keith let me off early. I-” Steve furrows his brows, “are you leaving?”

You nod. “I’ve been in your way long enough.”

“I told you, you’re never in my way.” Steve knows you, and he loves you, and he can tell that there’s something going on. That you’re panicked and trying to get away from whatever it is. He cares too much to let that happen. “I want you to stay.”

You want to stay, too. You just don’t know what comes next, and that unknown, the lack of control, of familiarity, it makes your hands shake.

Your mind doesn’t work the same when you’re afraid.

“Give me one good reason why I should stay, Steve. I’ve been taking up your space for weeks and-”

“Because I love you.” Steve cuts you off. He hadn’t planned on telling you this way, he wanted it to be romantic and perfect but he can’t wait any longer. Especially not when you’re trying to run away. “I’m in love with you. And I want you here.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, blinking up at him like you’re not sure you’d heard him correctly. “You- what?”

“I love you. Romantically. And I think I have for a really long time.”

“You’re not high again, are you?” You ask, your eyes a little misty.

Steve walks over to you and grabs both of your hands in his, making sure you’re looking at him, at the sincerity written all over his face, when he says, “Completely sober. I fucking love you and I want you to keep living with me, because this house doesn’t really feel like home unless you’re in it.”

“What about when my apartment is ready?”

He squeezes your hands. “Stay then, too. Stay forever.”

You look up at him, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes so honest, a tentative smile on his mouth. The only boy you’ve ever loved.

You feel silly for trying to escape this when this is how it’s turning out. Steve had been brave just now, telling you he loves you and he wants you to stay, so you decide to be brave, too.

It’s easier than you thought it would be to say: “I love you, too, Steve. I feel the same. I only just realized it and freaked out. I’m so scared of losing you, is all.”

“You won’t. Not ever.”

You tip your chin up to kiss him after he says it, because you can. You pour your feelings into it, and Steve returns your kiss as if it’s one he’s known for years. It’s slow, and deep, and sweet, and so full of love you’re practically overflowing with it.

The two of you only pull away when you need a breather. Steve doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours.

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Well, we’ve been acting like a couple for a while, I think, so we stay the same. Mostly. Except now I get to call you my girlfriend-”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask me first.”

He lets go of one of your hands and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckle running lovingly across your cheek. “My angel girl, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your grin is wide and lovesick and cheesy and you don’t care one bit. “Yeah, yes I will. Boyfriend.”

“And, being your boyfriend means I get to do this.”

He kisses you once more. And you don’t ever want to not be kissing him again.

𝜗𝜚

thank you guys so much for reading!!! it would mean a whole bunch if you would consider leaving a comment or a reblog and letting me know what you thing!! it helps more than you know <3

[bright-molina]

fearless

tyler owens x reader synopsis: tyler comes home to find you not pleased whatsoever with his latest tornado wrangling trip warnings: none! although it is not edited, that's a later problem a/n: I NEED HIM IN A WAY THAT IS CONCERNING TO FEMINISM (this is my way of asking everyone to pretty please send me requests i literally cannot get him off of my mind its fine) song rec: fearless by taylor swift, it belongs to him actually

Tyler knows something is wrong when you stay standing on the porch, not moving a single muscle. You just stare at him silently, arms crossed tightly in front of you, as he gets out of his truck. He doesn’t move either, so used to the way you always sprint to him in a whirlwind the second his feet touch the ground.

Finally, he opens his arms and flashes you a smile and there’s a look on his face so soft it’s practically a silent plea for you to come to him. “Hi, baby.”

You don’t move. Not then, not when he drops his arms and pouts, and not even when he walks towards you instead declaring how much he missed you. You simply keep staring at him as he closes the distance, finally stepping onto the bottom step of the weather beaten porch.

You’re nearly his height like this and it’s incredibly easy for Tyler to uncross your arms, take your hands, and pull them around his neck. He in turn wraps his own around your waist and pulls you in close, breathing you in for just a moment.

“I missed you.” He repeats, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair on instinct and he sighs, a little bit in relief and a little bit content with the feeling.

“You’re an idiot, Tyler Owens,” you tell him after a moment as you press a kiss to his shoulder and pull him in a little tighter.

Tyler knows you missed him too when you say it. You kiss him again, on his cheek this time, as he starts pulling away and tells you, “I know.”

You don’t look away from him. Your eyes scan his face as your hands slip from around him to hold it in your hands, gently tipping his head side to side to take him in completely. There’s an already healing cut on his cheek and you trace your fingers over it softly. The memory of the video playing on the screen of your laptop is clear and your breath hitches a little bit in the same way it did then.

And Tyler sees it all. He doesn’t quite know what he agreed to being an idiot about but he’s sure you're right. He can see the fear lingering in your eyes, can feel the gentle way you touch him, silently testing to see if he’s really there. His hand comes up to lay on top of yours for a second before he takes it and kisses the back of it, green blue eyes never leaving yours as he does so.

You hear the soft patter of the rain start again before you can scold him some more and one glance behind him confirms the sight you knew you’d find. It’s falling gently, barely making a noise as it hits the ground outside the comfort of your covered porch. Tyler notices it too, letting his head tip backwards a bit to get a good look at the heavy storm clouds passing over.

When he turns back to you he has a wicked grin on his face and your eyes go wide. You forget every single fear, every worry, every bit of leftover irritation and anger. It all falls away and you try to hide the bubble of excitement that flutters deep inside you as you make a halfhearted effort to plant your feet in place.

“Tyler, no,” You shake your head as you feel his hands slip into yours. He takes a step back and one small tug has you falling forward and onto the step he’d just been standing on. “I’m trying to be mad at you, you can’t drag me out here!”

“Yes I can,” He takes another step and pulls you with him, both of you now standing in the rain already starting to fall a little faster. He drops your hands and takes a couple steps back, hoping you’d follow him further into it. “I just did.”

“This is my best dress, it's gonna get soaked if the rain picks up.”

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to let me take it off you when we go inside, won’t we?” Tyler’s smile softens and he holds out one of his hands again. “C’mon sweetheart, dance with me.”

He jumps forward suddenly, right into a puddle already forming, and the water splashes all over you. Your laugh rings out clear all around him and he thinks nothing in the world could be better than this moment right here with you.

You take his hand and he immediately spins you once and you swear you’ve never felt more content than in that moment. Head tipped back to look at the sky, rain already quickly soaking you to the bone, Tyler holding on to you tightly. There’s a deep rumble that echoes through the world around you as thunder sounds off in the distance. It doesn’t scare you in the slightest.

The rain keeps falling, keeps picking up the longer you and Tyler stay underneath it. You keep dancing, alone and together, keep kicking the water from the puddles at each other and keep laughing together like nothing was ever wrong.

Eventually the rain starts slowing down again and the song playing in Tyler’s head seems to end. He takes your hand one more time, twirling you underneath his arm again before spinning you into him and catching you with ease. One of his arms falls around your waist and dips you back while the other keeps holding your hand in his own.

A moment passes where he looks for any kind of uncertainty in your eyes. Any sign that something might really be wrong. He looks for hesitation in you but he doesn’t find any. The longer he keeps looking at you with that look, so concerned and caring and full of so much love, the dizzier you get. He’s so close and he could kiss you at any second and it’s all you’ve been craving since the moment he left and the butterflies in your stomach are getting harder to control and he was gone but he’s here now and he’s safe.

And you sigh a little bit. You don’t move. “I watched your live stream when you were out there.”

Tyler understands everything in that moment. He understands why you were upset with him and knows why you didn’t jump into his arms and why you’re looking at him the way you are now, still a little bit scared through the relief.

That’s when he kisses you. He kisses you long and slow and deep enough to make you let out one of those little noises he loves pulling from you so much. It grounds you, he knows by the way you grip onto his shirt a little tighter. You pull back first and stare at him again. He drops your hand and instead puts his own on the small of your back, tugging you even closer. Close enough that the two of you start leaving your mark on the rain, the shadows of it starting to morph to fit around you.

“You promised me you’d stay safe.”

“And I was,” Tyler brushes loose strands of your hair, now wet and sticking to you, back behind your ear and tries to offer you a reassuring look. “For the most part. I tried the hardest I could.”

You shake your head immediately and resist the urge to step back from him. “That’s not good enough, Ty.”

“We just,” He hears the words you don’t say loud and clear. I need you. Here. With me. He’s at a loss for a second, realizing that maybe it was always like this when he was gone. Maybe you always worried and just didn’t always show it. “We weren’t expecting it to get bigger, that’s all that happened.”

“Tyler,” You shake him a little bit, bringing him out of his own thoughts with another kiss. The need to feel him as much as he always said he needed to feel you while he was gone became overwhelming. “I saw your truck flip over. You got hurt and it could’ve been a lot worse than it was”

“Some loose debris knocked us out of place, I’m okay, sweetheart,” Tyler tries offering you a smile to prove his point but it doesn’t work. So instead he loosens his hold on you, twirling you in the rain one more time before placing his hat right on top of your head as he pulls you in again. He laughs at the look you’re wearing, unamused as the raindrops trail down your face as you look up at him.

The sound of his laugh echoing around you louder than the rain and thunder, pulls a smile from you again. “You make it really hard to stay angry at you, did you know that?”

“It’s cause you love me so much.”

“I don’t know why I do,” You can feel the fabric of the dress you’d put on, Tyler’s favorite that you had very much chosen on purpose, sticking to you now. One look at the clouds above you tells you the rain has no intention of stopping any time soon. “Can we go inside now or did you want to stay out here all day long?”

“You know I’d stay anywhere with you, sweetheart.”

“Of course you would,” The smile stays on your face as you roll your eyes at him, finally unraveling yourself from his hold on you. “Well I’m going inside, your choice whether you wanna follow or keep playing in the rain.”

“Wait,” Tyler stops you before you can turn around completely. He reaches for your hand and pulls you back abruptly, kissing you again before you can get another word about. It’s heavier this time as his lips move against yours. Filled with a need so intense he thinks it’ll consume him and burn the rain right off his body. He keeps kissing you until he can’t breathe anymore and when he pulls away his head drops to rest his forehead against yours, eyes wide open and staring directly at you so you hear his words. “I also promised I’d always come home to you, didn’t I?”

Your words sound as breathless as you feel. “You did.”

One more kiss, a way to plant the words he’s saying to you firmly into place. “I haven’t broken that promise yet and I have no intention of ever doing so.”

Just like that you believe him. Every single fear left over in your body from the last few days slips away. There’s nothing left there but you and Tyler and the knowledge you have that he’s always gonna be right there at your side. He’s wild and fearless and too smart for his own good. He dances with you in the middle of storms and makes you worry sometimes when he drives right into them but you watch every trip he takes without fail and every single time he comes home to you.

And you really don’t know how it could get any better than this.

tagging: @nerdalicios

[lokis-army-77]

A New Purchase

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.6k

When you come home only to discover your boyfriend has bought something completely ridiculous.

Warning: 18+. p in v, riding.

Here's the little thing we talked about the other day @munson-blurbs @lofaewrites @chrissymjstan @hellfire--cult (it isn't as good as I think it could be but oh well)

Masterlist

Eddie was almost giddy with excitement when he saw the Facebook marketplace posting. The aluminum body was a bit rusted and the inside fabric was also questionably stained but hey it was a decoration for three hundred dollars and local pickup, hell yes, he was buying it. 

The only thing Eddie didn’t realize was that it wasn’t a small decoration. No…  it was real and he had no clue where he was going to store it until Halloween. Then came the brilliant idea of testing it out. He only wanted to know what it would be like to lie there, how comfortable would it be?

That’s how you came to find Eddie lying in a casket in the middle of your living room.

Walking through the door you stop suddenly, as the small walkway between the wall and the back of the couch is blocked. Eddie is lying there, eyes closed and hands crossed over his chest. 

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?” 

He can’t help the grin that paints his once stoic features. He squints open his eyes as he begins to laugh. “I’m testing out my new purchase. Do you like it?”

You sigh and whip your hand over your face, shaking your head. “What on Earth possessed you to buy a casket? Wait, hang on, where did you buy a casket?”

He sits up, resting an arm on the side, and goes into his explanation. “You are never gonna believe it, fucking Facebook Marketplace. It was so cheap and to be honest I thought it was a fake one that would have been maybe a foot or two tall but nope. Imagine my surprise when I get to this guy's house and he rolls this baby out. He slaps the side panel for emphasis. He even threw in the church trucks for free so it would be really easy to move around.”

You just chuckle and shake your head. “Okay, then why did you buy it?”

“I figured we could use it to decorate for Halloween and also because when I saw it was actually real I just had to test it out. Take it for a test drive before I actually do kick the bucket.” He said it so seriously like it was the most obvious reason in the world.

“Eddie, really?”

“Oh, come on babe, like you’ve never thought about laying down in one of these bad boys.” 

“Contrary to what you might believe, no, no I haven't.” 

Eddie reaches out then, making a child-like gesture of opening and closing his hand. You walk forward and curl your fingers around his. “Switch places with me, see how it feels.”

“No, I’m not getting in there.” You laugh.

“Why not? Do you really want the first time you experience this to be when you’re dead? You won’t even know if it's uncomfortable or not.” He pulls you forward even more. 

“Eddie no-”

“Come on… If you won’t switch then get in with me.” 

You give in, sighing playfully as you bend down and crawl into the cramped casket. Eddie tries his best to shift over so you have space, but the area inside is only so big and definitely was never intended for two.

You both are laughing when your knee suddenly loses its steadiness, atop the thin, almost non-existent padding layered over the metal bottom, and slides out from under you and you fall on top of Eddie’s chest with an “oomph”.  You look up and you catch a glint in his eye as they darken just a bit. 

It’s a familiar look, one that he has given you so many times no matter the situation or surroundings. A look that he knows you will give into. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You plead with him, knowing where this will end. 

Eddie looks at you, eyebrows raised in faux confusion. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way, Sweetheart.”

You slap his chest playfully. “Eddie you are giving me your ‘I want sex’ eyes and I am not going to, not here.”

“Baby,” He wines. “Come on. It’ll be sexy. We could even role-play as vampires.” 

“No-”

“Please.” Eddie reaches his hand to cup your cheek, pleading softly as he brings his face closer to yours. You are trying to fight it but you know you can’t and Eddie knows too. As soon as he looked at you with those sultry brown eyes, you were plyant in his grasp.

When his lips press into yours, you sigh, relaxing into him. Your fingers curl into his shirt and you inch up, caging his hips between your thighs. It hasn’t even been thirty seconds from when the kiss started and you can already feel him hardening under you. 

Pulling away, you mumble into him, lips barely touching. “Does it really turn you on thinking of fucking here?” 

Eddie nods and surges forward to reconnect your mouths. His tongue flits past your lips and finds its way inside, caressing your own. 

You're barely-there resolve crumbles as you begin to roll your hips into him. You can feel his hard length as you grind, his breath catches in his throat. 

"Fuck baby," he mumbles against your lips.  "Need to feel you around me."

There is a heat coursing through you, clouding your mind as your fingers begin to unbutton his pants. 

Eddie is eager, his hips press up into your hands, pushing you to free him faster. The blue cotton of his boxers has turned a deeper color in a small spot where the head of his cock rests, the precum there being soaked up by the cloth. 

You slide a nail up his covered shaft and a great shiver overtakes his body under you. "Don't tease me- please."

A chuckle bubbles out of you. "But that's the fun part." 

Eddie just whimpers in response. 

You begin pushing your fingers past the elastic waistband. You pull the fabric down and bring your other hand up to help situate both his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.

His cock springs forward and you can't help the feeling of absolute lust coursing through your veins. You need him inside you, now. 

You silently thank your past self for deciding to wear a dress today. In your need, you don't think you would be able to wrangle yourself out of a pair of pants. 

Firmly you take Eddie's cock into your hand. He hisses at the new pressure you ar editing him. 

"Fuck baby, just like that." His hips jump into your touch. 

"Gonna let me fuck myself on you? Gonna let me take what I want?"

Eddie only nods. Words have left him as he stares into your sultry gaze. 

You begin to stroke him, up and down, spreading the stickiness leaking from his tip with your thumb. 

Then, you begin to scoot up his body. Hovering over him. Eddie watches in awe as you take him up in one hand and move your panties over with the other. A slow moan releases itself from your as you begin to sink down on him.

Eddie's cock was perfect. It always felt so good to be wearied around him, his head pushing deeper into you. 

Both of your breathing is labored. You try to keep yourself calm, you don't want to rush into riding him, you want to take your time making each of you feel wonderful. Eddie. On the other hand, is trying not to combust as he lays there and watches.

The way your dress is hiked up around your beautifully, thick thighs, how his cock disappears into you, surrounded by a curly thatch of hair. 

God he loved you. It was the only way to explain why his heart was beating out his chest. 

You groan as you feel him entering you. There is a slight burn as you stretch around him. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. Eddie starts to make choked noises and his hands reach out to grab you. His fingers grip your hips, helping you grind into him. Your own hands grasp at his covered stomach. 

There was an ache building as you moved. Low in the depth of your stomach and it began to grow. The more you fucked yourself onto Eddie the more the ache was felt. IT had you clenching down around him. You cunt milking his cock of everything he could give you.  

Eddie’s hands caress your body. When his fingertips touch skin, it's like an electric shock goes through you. 

“Eddie-” You moan.

“I know, love.” He mummers. 

“Can feel you so deep.” You grind harder, shivering as your clit rubs against his pubic bone. “Need more.”

“Yeah? Take it, baby, take anything you want.” 

You catch Eddie’s hands and guide them up under your dress and to your breasts. 

He hums in approval as he pushes your bra down and begins to play with your nipples, pinching and pulling them slightly.

Your head lolls to the side, hair falling down around you. It’s taking so much energy for you to keep moving. Your legs are beginning to tire out, there is a sting in your muscles. Your knees are screaming at you as they dig into the not-so-comfortable foam at the bottom of the casket. 

Body becoming rigid, you cry out, moaning Eddie’s name loudly into the living room. Your fingers cling to him as your body caves into him. You can no longer keep moving so Eddie begins bucking his hips into yours, helping you to ride out this high and bring him to his own. 

Eddie lets you fall almost completely on top of him once he’s finished. His arms wrap around you, your breaths in sync with the other. 

As you rest your forehead on Eddie’s chest, you feel the tiny movement of him jerking. He’s trying not to laugh. 

You crane your neck to look up at him. “What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Eddie.” 

“Nothing, just that we fucked in a casket.” His smile was as wide as could be,

You let your head fall and you laugh into his chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

[liliansun]

two “rules” one problem

pairing : ex-bff!hyuck x fem!reader

wc : 14.8k

synopsis : despite your history, you and haechan couldn’t stand each other. that is till you’re paired up for a project and he’s just desperate enough for your help with his love life with the acception of his stupid rules

genre : enemies2lovers (best trope), ex-childhood friends to lovers (also best trope), fake dating, angst, fluff, college au

warnings : swearing, kissing, alcohol, haechan gets jealous, lying, uhh idk what else but lmk if i missed something (not proof read so i’m sorry 🥲)

If there was one thing twelve year old donghyuck wanted more in this world, other than his mom’s cooking, it was his two best friends coming together. You had been his friend since birth, both your mom’s bonding together before the two of you even came into the world. They met in a birth class, having similar due dates helped them both find comfort and friendship within each other compared to the other moms in the class that were farther along than them. They had already planned playdates after both you and donghyuck were born and even after all that time, they stayed true to those plans.

Your earliest memories have donghyuck in them in some shape, way or form. Whether he was attending you birthday party, or you to his, all the way to the two of you sharing the same home room when you both started school. The dynamic between you two was truly unmatched, something that could never be touched or fault. When you two got older, not much had changed. The excitement of high school had you both buzzing as each day passed through your final years of being just below the line of being a teenager.

Although you both were attached by the hip, you still found space in your young life to befriend other people, or at least donghyuck did. Thats how mark lee came into the picture, being a transfer student in the middle of the year made it hard for him to settle in and become comfortable. Donghyuck saw mark sitting along during lunch one sunny afternoon and although the two had a bit of a rocky start, their friendship blossomed into something that they both needed. Now that he had such a connection with his new found friend, all he wanted to do is share his love for mark with you. You thought you were a welcoming person, easy to get along with and fairly nice, but the day donghyuck brought you and mark together would just so happen be the day you lost your best friend.

“I’m telling you, that doesn’t sound right to me.”

Mark rolls his eyes, laughing a little under his breath as he strums his slender fingers against the strings on his guitar. “Its not finished yet, gotta trust the process.” You simply reply with a hum as you watch mark fiddle and try to tune the strings to his liking. The two of you were cooped up in his dorm room, him sitting on the edge of his bed with the instrument rested in his lap while you opted to sit in the chair that usually was tucked under his desk. “What are you doing here anyway, don't you have other friends to bother instead?” Rolling your eyes, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. “Actually, no i don't, i thought we went over this. Yeongmin is off studying so she can’t aid my boredom.”

Mark continued strumming along the strings till he got a rhythm he liked and started to hum along with the tune that was filling the room. “I swear you’re gonna be famous one of these days.” Looking down at your phone, you notice the groupchat you’re in with your friends is going off. “That would be nice actually.” Unlocking your phone, a smile spreads across your lips at the messages that were popping up. “Maybe if you didn’t have crippling stage fright, you’d be able to actually play the songs you sing to more people than just me.” A gentle laugh left mark’s throat as he set the guitar down on its stand beside his bed. “Actually, I sing to Haechan too, so don’t come for me.” His name left a sour taste in your mouth, your face scrunching up as you try to block out his stupid face in your mind. Mark could tell you two still weren’t on good terms, but he didn’t want to push it again and opted to pick up his phone that was vibrating on his bed.

You stole a glace at the screen, catching the name of the caller id. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You mumble underneath your breath. Mark answers the facetime call, holding his phone in his hand, but opting to hold it further down at an angle. “Yo, whats up?” The background noise was windy, letting both you and mark know that he must've been outside. “Bro where have you been, i've been looking for you for hours!”

“If you didn’t find him, he obviously didn’t wanna be found, but if its you he’s hiding from who can blame him.” Mumbling beneath your breath, but mark still heard you. “Hey, you be nice over there.” haechan looked confused on the screen, strolling around on campus to his unknown destination. “Are you talking to yourself again?” mark turned his camera around, showing you sitting comfortably in his chair as you scroll mindlessly on social media. “No, im not talking to myself again, y/n is here.” by the mention of your name, haechan rolled his eyes. “Why is she always there when im coming over.”

“I didn't even know you're coming over.” added in his defense after switching his camera back around. “If that thing is on his way, i’m out.” you piped up, grabbing your bag from off the floor as you stood up from the chair. “Text me when you make it in at least?” mark felt helpless sometimes. He never truly understood what went down between you and haechan all those years ago, but splitting his free time between the two of could could be more challenging some days than others. If he wasn’t chilling with you in the comfort of the few places you knew haechan wouldn’t be caught dead near like your dorm or the library, he was chilling with haechan and the friend group they developed over the years being in college.

“Will do, have fun with the devils incarnate.” You say back as you’re opening the door to make your exit. Just as you’re leaving, you come face to face with something firm or shall you say someone. “Do you ever use those eyes of yours or are they just there for decoration?” you recognized that voice from anywhere, it being the same voice belonging to the one person you were hoping not to see on your way out. “Can you move lee, or are you just that self absorbed to think that I could just see you standing outside the door before it was even open?” Haechan scoffed as you walked past him, huffing as you nudge him with your shoulder to get him out of your way. From mark’s dorm to yours wasn't a far walk, which was good for you when you needed to get out of your room or just needed his help on an assignment. Unfortunately for you, it meant that haechan too didn’t have much of a far walk either seeing that his dorm hall was across from yours.

When you get into your room, your roommate wonchae looked up from her phone as she was laid out on her bed. “I thought you were at mark’s for a few hours?” Tossing your bag down beside the door you huff as you walk over to your bed and crawl underneath the blanket after removing your shoes. “I was till donghyuck decided to grace mark with his presence.” Wonchae giggled as she sits up, looking at you getting comfortable beneath your blanket as you pull your phone out. “Wanna call the girls over for a movie night instead?” you glance over at her, a smile spreading across your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow. “As long as we’re not too loud again, we can’t afford another complaint this month.” Wonchae was already texting the groupchat before you could even finish your sentence. The night proceeded with you and your friends having a movie marathon despite your early class in the morning. You assumed it wouldn’t be too much to unwind a bit, binge watching three movies back to back. Somehow, you didn’t make it to your bed when you initially planned to due to the twins, wonchae and yechae convincing you to pull through the last movie.

Since the time on the clock read after midnight by the time the movies were finished, the three girls opted to sleep over with you and your roommate instead of taking the risk of going back to their own dorms. Yeongmin’s dorm was the furthest from yours, being about a twenty minute walk and you all collectively agreed she especially was sleeping over. Somehow you and yeongmin both managed to fit in your tiny bed for the night while the twins and sin-ra snuggled up on wonchae’s bed across the room. By the next morning, you woke up to the sound of yeongmin snoring in your ear beside you. She had her arms and legs tangled in yous, trying to pry her off you as you crane your neck to look over at the time clock on your desk. Your worst fears were confirmed when the time read nine after when your first class was supposed to finish. Quickly getting out of the warmth of your bed, you scramble to get ready and are out the door before you can properly apologize for waking everyone up.

If you were lucky, or rather fast enough, you can catch your professor before he starts his next class and get the notes on what you missed. You make a mental note to thank yourself when you set up your schedule for this semester for giving you breaks in between classes, especially on the midday schedules. As your toppling up the stairs leading into the building, you spot haechan leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He hadn’t noticed you thankfully, not wanting him to hold the fact that you almost busted your face open trying to get inside over your head. He looked so into thought, looking out over the campus as you take the opportunity to grip the railing to catch your breath.

“Look who decided to show up for class today.” rolling your eyes, you straighten your posture as he pulls himself off the wall he once was comfortably leaning against. “Don’t start with me today, i almost died trying to get over here to catch professor choi before his next class.”

“Don't bother, he cut class short for some family emergency or something, but i can fill you in if you fix your attitude.” He truly was the epitome of your frustration. “Just tell me what i missed so i can get away from you as quickly as possible.” there was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he tools steps towards you. “Looks like you’re not gonna get too far, we’re partnered up for a presentation.”

If the universe didn’t already hate you, you’d think this was your first sign. “I can always request a partner switch, you know?” Haechan only laughs in response, clutching the bag hung over his shoulder with one hand. “Good luck with that, he made it pretty clear that he wasn’t giving in because this will be counted towards our final.” a sigh left your lips as you accepted your fate, you and haechan would have to spend an unknown amount of hours in each others presence without any chance at getting around it. “Just meet me after our next class and we can go over it then.” WIth that, you turned on your heals and made your way to the nearest cafe to get something in your body since you didn’t have the opportunity to grab breakfast. Thankfully for you, your campus was notorious for its tiny cafes placed around all of campus which not only helped feed your caffeine addiction, it helped other students make some money as they swim in student dept.

As good as every cafe you’ve been to on campus can be, none of them compare to the baristas at cafe neo, something about the way those boys make your drinks just the way you like them has been without a doubt why you only trust them with your order. As you make your way across campus and the cafe is within sight, you over hear a conversation between the two girls in front of you. “Oh my god, look what bomi just posted!” the one to your right gasped, whipping out her phone as she brings it to the slightly shorter girls attention. “You’re kidding, isn’t she dating haechan?” you’re trying not to be nosy, not fond of listening into other peoples conversation, but at the mention of haechan’s name, you can’t help, but keen in. “Guess not anymore, look at the caption, those hearts are definitely more than just friendly.”

The two part off of the way you were going, leaving you with little information as to what their reactions were about. You had just saw haechan, judging by his usual cocky and self absorbing nature, he seemed all but heartbroken. You push your wondering thoughts aside as you enter in the cafe, smiling over at the tall boy who stood behind the counter. “Welcome to cafe neo– oh hi y/n!” his nametag read jisung, but you always referred to him as the cute underclassman who blushed when you tipped him. “Hi ji, anything new on the menu?” Jisung smiled at you as you walk up to the counter. “Nothing today, chenle is still brainstorming over ideas to ask the culinary department on what they can come up with in the back, you just want the usual?” You skim over the menu that was hanging on the wall behind him, as if you got anything different, but it never hurt to look. “Mmm, yeah, just one please.”

Getting the money from your pocket, you lay it on the counter as he typed in your order on the screen in front of him. It’s times like this that make you wonder how often you come here for this boy to know your order by heart. He takes the money you laid out for him and as he tries to hand you your change, you throw your hand up in refusal. “No, you keep it, you boys work too hard.” theres a slight pinkish tent to his cheeks as he slips the few bills and coins in the glass jar beside the front of the counter. “I’ll call you when its ready!”

Throughout the rest of the day, you take your perfectly made drink with you to your next class and go about your day, everything feeling as normal as it could. One thing that slightly bothered you were the hushed whispers of Haechan’s relationship and how quickly his ex girlfriend seemed to move on. People were coming up with theories amongst themselves as to what could’ve happened and if Haechan knew. Just like you, some said he seemed fine for the first part of the day till the alleged post was made from which you overheard. You didn’t pay it any mind and went about your day till you were back in your room for the night.

“And if you carry this number, you should get one of these answers down here.”

“And how do i know if i got them right?”

“We won’t know till we actually try, now won’t we?” Jaemin, the guy who you shared a math class with last semester, asked you to tutor him this semester so that he might actually have a chance of passing the class and getting out of this hellhole. His words, not yours. “Or, brillant idea, you can use your pretty brain and show me which answer is correct.” Jaemin was indeed a smart guy, but it was moments like these that you questioned if he really had a multi functioning organ in that skull of his or was it just hot air. “Not a chance, solve it the way I showed you and we’ll go from there.” With a defeated huff, he finally puts the pencil that he has been fiddling with the last few minutes to work.

The two of you met in the library near his hall regularly, about twice during the week and an extra day is added when he has an upcoming test and if you have the time. The library usually was quiet around this time of day, most keeping to themselves as they cater to their own work, but for some reason you felt a pair of eyes staring at the back of your head. Just as you’re about to take a look around the room, the chair beside you is being pulled out and haechan finds himself in the seat next to you. “Where have you been?” you look over at him, slightly shocked to see him actually in the library. “Excuse me?” His face tells you that he’s annoyed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he leans into your personal space. “I said, where have you been, i've been all over campus for you and had to result to mark to find you.”

You motion to Jaemin who was focused in on the problem in front of him, or at least he was when you last looked his way. Now he has his signature grin on his lips, flashing his teeth as he witness the unwelcomed tension between you and haechan. “For your information, i’m tutoring pretty boy over here and your grumpiness is interrupting him.” Jaemin’s smile widens even more as the vein in Haechan’s forehead looks like it about to pop. “I, quite frankly, don’t give a fuck. maybe send someone a text next time so i don’t have to look so desprate to find you.” You scoff, sitting back in your seat as you realize his undertones. Who was he to say that looking for you made him look desperate, he literally is desperate in this moment.

“Sorry to break up this beautiful moment, but its about that time for me to go, so y/n, same time next week?” Nodding, you let out a sigh as Jaemin starts to pack his things into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “There, happy now? You ran off Jaemin.” haechan ignores you, pulling his laptop out of his own bag and sets it onto the table. “We have roughly a month and a half to pump out a fucking book of an essay and make a slide point presentation, the faster we get this finished the less I have to see you in my free time.” He was truly unbelievable, first he comes and interrupts your personal time to help the needy, needy being Jaemin and his need to pass his class, and now he throws wanting to get away from you as quickly as he can? You are definitely adding this to the list of why you hate him.

The two of you go over the topic you were given, trying to break down the work between the two of you into categories: what you can do separate and what you’ll have to do together. Since you both were already here, you decided it would be best to get a head start on the research portion. Time must’ve caught up with you both, wrapping things up right before the library closed for the night. “I can’t look at this screen anymore, lets just end it here and meet up another day.” You grab your forgotten bag from the floor, carrying it on your arm as Haechan packs up his laptop. By the time he is done, you’re already making your way out the door and dredging the walk back to your dorm. Quick approaching steps trail behind you as haechan jogs to catch up to you. “Woah, not so fast, aren’t you forgetting something?” you don’t bother to stop, continuing your walk as he walks beside you. “And that is?”

“We don’t have any way of contacting each other, idiot, so give me your number.” You halt your movements and with a sigh, turn to face him. The bright sky from when you first entered the library earlier is now replaced with the deep colors of the night. The moon was full, shining its light down and being your only real light to see haechan’s features that seem more soft in this setting. “Do you still remember my number?” Haechan looks taken aback, looking at you with a lingering confusion in his eyes. “You still have that number?”

“Mhm, so if you still know it then there’s your way of getting to me.” You’re about to turn and make your way to your dorm, your stomach urging you to find food soon. Haechan was chewing on his bottom lip, reaching out for your arm as he watched you try to walk away. “What is it donghyuck? I’m hungry and tired, what could you possibly want now?” The wind leaves his lungs as you say his name. Once he got to high school, many people started sticking him with the nickname Haechan, the reasoning behind it was his bright smile and personality, but you still saw him as donghyuck even after all this time.

“Just come with me, your dorm is too far to be walking at this time of night.” You didn’t get a chance to protest, he was already dragging you along with him to his car parked out front. “Fine, but I swear if you try to kill me with your driving I will come back to haunt your ugly ass.” You earn a snicker from him, his hand still holding your arm till you two reach his car and you slide into his passenger seat. Haechan fits perfectly into the drivers seat, putting the keys into the ignition and starting up his car once you are locked in. The two of you don’t say much, letting the radio fill in the silence of the drive. You’re too busy looking out the window to realize he passes up your hall, looking over at him with confusion once you see an unfamiliar street.

“Uhm, where are we going?”

“Dinner.” The words fall from his mouth so nonchalantly that you don’t question it any further, sinking into the seat as you let him drive to wherever he wanted. You’re not exactly sure why, but part of you always wanted a moment like this. Sitting in the car with Haechan, driving around town till it got dark was one thing you dreamt of back when you were both young, back when you still could see yourself in his future. Now that you’re doing it, it almost feels foreign. Sure, everything about his car screamed Haechan, the little things dangling from his rear view mirror gave that away, but the boy beside you was far from familiar. He was uncharted territory, someone you barely knew and to be beside him, being this close to him brought on a headache you weren’t expecting.

The two of you pull through the Taco Bell drive through, getting in line behind the cars. “What do you want?” You tell him your order after glancing over the menu. Even though you already knew what you wanted, you still wanted to give it some time to tell him in the order you wanted it. You were the type of person who wasn’t afraid of change, but didn’t go out of your way to invite it either. Always ordering the same thing from each place you go, you found comfort in the things that could always remain the same, like your Taco Bell order.

After your order is put through, you’re pulling your wallet out to give him cash for your part. “Here, this is for the food.” Haechan simply ignores you, handing over his card to the guy at the window. “Hello? Take the cash before I take it back.” After getting his card back, he slips it into his pocket and pulls forward. “Save your money, y/n, it’s not a big deal.” He seemed short with you tonight, not speaking up or putting much of a fight into it like he usually did in the passing times you two saw one another. It felt odd to see him brush you off, an unsettling feeling washing over you as you put the money back into your wallet.

After he had gotten the food and your two drinks, he whipped his car around and parked in a spot on the side of the building. “Are you fine eating here, I’m kinda hungry and don’t wanna have to wait till we get back.”

“No, yeah, it’s fine, but are you okay?”

You could see his body tense up at your question, pushing the straw into your drink before doing so to his own. “I guess, why do you care?” You’re sorting through the bag, grabbing what you assumed was his and handing it over to him. He goes to grab his food from your hand, your fingers brushing against each other’s for a moment. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, the warmth of his hand against yours, but it felt all too familiar and you almost jerk back as he quickly grabs the food. “Because I’m a decent human being and I knew you well enough back then to know that something is off.”

If you could read his thoughts, you’d see how badly your words hurt him just now. You were far from wrong, you truly did know him like the back of your hand and maybe even better than he knew himself, but too much time between you two had you both wondering if you knew anything about each other anymore. Amongst the burning anger you both have for one another, there was still some sort of longing within you that had you both slightly questioning the downfall of your friendship, but never enough to where either would act on it. “I don’t know, it’s kind of weird to think of opening up to someone I hate.”

“Then don’t think about it right now, if you need someone to talk to then do so. If it means forgetting you hate me just to get it off your chest, do so donghyuck.” A somber smile finds its way onto his lips as he tears open the wrapping that covered his food. “You’re a little too nice to me for someone who hates me just as much as I hate them.”

“Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I’m evil, I have a heart too you know?”

“Oh really, I never would’ve guessed judging by the lifeless look in your eyes.” You roll your eyes at his jab, mumbling something about dropping it before relishing in your food. The two of you don’t talk much after that, sitting in his car with the only form of sounds filling it were you two eating till he dropped you off. After getting in, wonchae gave you a weird look as you looked both defeated and exhausted. You told her you had a rough day and wanted sleep to be the reason you forgot about it.

You hadn’t seen or heard from Haechan since the night he bombarded you in the middle of your study session with Jaemin then took you out to Taco Bell. Sure, you’d see him in your shared class, but not once did his eyes meet yours and he kept every snarky remark to himself if he had any. You didn’t pay it any mind, assuming whatever was going on with him would pass and he’d be back to his normal asshole-like self soon. In between your classes for the day, you decided to slip off to the neo cafe for some well needed caffeine to keep you going through the day. While you were here, you planned to slip off in a quiet corner and let the music they play in the small room milk your brain to help you continue working on the parts of your presentation with Haechan.

As you’re walking up to the counter, you notice Jisung was nowhere to be found and you opt to wait patiently by the counter. The ring of the bell signaling the doors movement doesn’t catch your attention, but the familiar voice behind you does when you turn your head to the boy who called your name. “Can I help you?” Haechan hadn’t turned to look at you, his eyes scanning over the menu. “What’s good here, do you know?” You give him a puzzled look, wondering where this small talk came from. “Uhm, if your taste buds are even remotely the same, I’d say you’d get the sweet honey taro drink, it comes iced or hot.” He simply nods, tearing his eyes from the menu and lets his gaze fall onto you. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, trying to find something that felt familiar behind them, but all you could see was the void behind his golden irises.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting! Chenle was about to burn down the kitchen so I had to step away for a second.” Jisung’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning to him with a soft smile. “That’s okay ji, I’m more than happy to wait if that meant this sacred place would still be my caffeine plug.” Jisung smiles as he enters your order, his attention going from yours to Haechan whose gaze has yet to leave your figure. Your eyes follow Jisung’s, looking over at Haechan. “Oh, no we’re not—“

“I’ll just have what she’s having.” Haechan pulls out some cash from his back pocket, bringing it out for Jisung. Your mind couldn’t wrap itself around Haechan’s weird demeanor lately, he not only has been nice to you, but he’s paid for you twice. You knew he was sick in the head, but now you’re guessing it’s more than just his mental stability. When Jisung gives Haechan his change, you fumble with your pocket and pull out a few bills to throw into the tip jar, something you didn’t want to miss even if you weren’t the one paying. Jisung silently thanked you with his smile, to which you returned and told you both that he’d call you when your drinks were ready.

You were about to start questioning the weirdly quiet Haechan before he motioned for you both to move over to a table a little further in a corner. The two of you sat down, setting your bag against your chair as you prop your elbows up onto the table. “Okay, you’re acting weird and it’s starting to make me feel uncomfortable.” Haechan’s lips part as he goes to speak, but Jisung’s presence interrupts him as the younger boy sets both the cups down. “Thanks, ji.” You said, grabbing one of the drinks and bringing it towards you. “Y/n, back in the car you said something that I’ve been thinking about lately.” He had your full attention, something that made him oddly feel sheer to you. You were leaned in, your body language letting him know that you were listening, despite the awkwardness of the moment.

“You said that even though you hate me, you still have a heart too.” Nodding in confirmation, you remember saying it, but it didn’t make sense as to why he was bringing it up. “I, uhm, don’t know if you heard or not, but my girlf—my ex broke up with me recently and I really want to get her back.” You bring the cup in your hands to your lips, taking in a slow sip in case his next words are your cause of death. “And the only way I can think to do that is to make her jealous and I know what you’re thinking and I can hear it now, but just hear me out?” There it was, his intentions and reasoning behind his odd behavior lately. As you process his words, you already know where this is going and your drink decides to be the one to take you out today instead. You start to choke as the liquid goes off its track and nearly comes back through your nose.

Haechan’s eyes widen, staring at you in surprise as you try to gain back the air that just left your lungs as you cough. “Are you okay?” You simply nod, patting your chest as your drink is put back onto the table and you’re taking in slow breaths to steady yourself in the seat. “Uh yeah, no wait, okay hold on, you want to do what now?” The boy across from you drops his head slightly, feeling embarrassed by even bringing up the situation. Yeah, he wanted his ex back, he truly loved her, or so that’s what he thought it was. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but you’re the only person I thought of.”

“And what makes you think it’ll be believable? I mean the whole campus knows we hate each other.”

“But they also know we have history, plus this project will be a good enough cover to make them believe we had some spark going off or whatever.” You stay silent, contemplating the whole ordeal. On one hand, this could go terribly wrong in many ways, people could not believe you two and this could blow up in your face for the rest of your time at this university or it could go great and once he’s back in the arms of his ex lover, he’ll finally leave your hair for good. “I’m not saying yes, so don’t get too excited, but if I were to think about it, what do I get out of it?” Haechan knew you were going to want something, a slight smirk forming in the corners of his lips. In his mind, he guesses some things never change and with that, neither have you. “I’ll leave you alone after this, no more bickering or picking at you and shit—oh and I’ll do half of your work for the project!”

Damn, he truly was desperate. You press your lips together, trying to debate if this truly would be worth it. The outcome, if good, would be best for both parties and maybe you’d finally have a peaceful rest of your time here. Something deep down inside tells you it’s a bad idea, but you choose to ignore it because if it meant he’d take over half of what you have to do on your shared presentation, more free time for you. “I have to go to class, but I’ll let you know by later tonight.” Your watch indicated if you didn’t leave now, you’d be late for your next class and since you have a lab today, you especially didn’t want to miss it. You go to stand, one hand holding your bag while the other grabs your cup. Haechan stands too, his bag still hanging on his shoulder as he goes to grab his cup. The two of you exit the Neo cafe quietly, unaware of the lingering eyes that follow you two out.

After your final class, you make a b-line to Mark’s dorm where he was expecting you. It had been a few days since you two had time to hang out and you both were taking the opportunity to have some study time together in the quiet of his dorm. Once he signs you in as a guest, you both go up to his dorm and make yourselves comfortable, you being at his desk and him sitting on his bed. “What do you have to get done?” Pulling out your notes from your lab along with your laptop, you set everything out on his desktop. “Just going over some notes and typing them into a small essay for class, you?”

“Man, I got a quiz to study for and since professor moon likes to give them at the worst times possible, I gotta get as much as I can in.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you both busy yourselves in what you were doing, Mark had his speaker on and chose a calming playlist he created for when you two would study like this. The music really did help you stay focused, having something to fill the room to keep your brain from getting off track. You’re about halfway done typing away on your laptop when your phone buzzes beside it. Glancing over, you notice a few missed notifications from your shared group chat with your friends, a few social media notifications and a text from an unknown number. You’re about to pick up your phone to see who texted you when an incoming call pops up on the screen, the same number that texted you.

You slide your thumb across your phone, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“You didn’t answer my text.” Of course it would be Haechan, who else were you expecting. In all honesty, you did expect him to text you at some point, but the call was a surprise for you. “I’m studying, like you should be doing too.”

“I need to know your answer, don’t get too excited.” You can practically feel him smirking through the phone followed by some shuffling. “Where are you anyway? I stopped by your hall and you weren’t there.”

Your posture straightens, wondering who he asked and what he told them when we made his way to your dorm. “You did what? Are you insane?” Haechan laughs, a soft laugh as you lean back in the seat. “Slightly, I’ve been told that’s a part of my charm though.” Rolling your eyes, you huff before looking over your shoulder at mark. “I’m with a friend, why?”

“Tell me where you’re at unless you want me to go to every hall on campus.”

“You’re fucking psycho, I’m with mark, idiot.” At the mention of his name, mark looks up at you as you swivel the chair around. You mouth Haechan’s name to him to which he looked genuinely confused. “Figures, I’m on my way.” He ended the call before you could even protest, swearing under your breath as you stood up to get your things together. “Why are you—actually no, since when did you and Haechan call each other?”

“I’ll explain later, I gotta go though bub, but I appreciate you studying with me.” You gave mark an apologetic smile as you packed your bag up with your laptop, making sure to grab everything you had. “Text me when you get in.” Mark had stood up from his bed, making his way over to you to gently pull you into a hug. The two of you never hugged much, the sudden affection leaving you taken aback slightly, but nevertheless you wrap your arms around him as he did you. “I’m right across the street, I’m not going rouge.” He hums, pulling back from the hug as he gives you an uneasy smile. “Yeah, I know, but you’re going with Haechan and that’s what makes me worried.”

It too made you worried, even if you didn’t exactly agree to his lil situation he proposed earlier, that nagging feeling that it wasn’t going to end well never left you every time you gave it more thought. “I’ll be fine, plus my location is on if I don’t text you by nine.” Mark only laughs as your arms drop from around him and you leave his room. It doesn’t take you long to get out the building, spitting Haechan’s car parked in front with his passenger window rolled down. He’s leaned over, a smirk across his lips while one hand grips the top of the steering wheel. “Hop in.” He says as you make your way down to his car. Once you get in, you throw your bag in his back seat and fasten your seatbelt before Haechan takes off and drives you two off campus.

“And where exactly are we going?”

Haechan doesn’t look over at you, his eyes focused on the road, but he can feel your stare on him. He was wearing a letterman jacket with a black shirt underneath and some jeans that complemented the look, it was the first time you really took in his attire and you swore he didn’t have that jacket on earlier. “Somewhere quiet we can talk, to sort everything out for the show we’re about to put on.” He’s cocky, confident and arrogant. You hated it, hated how smug he looked as the words fell from his mouth. “I haven’t even said yes yet, did that get through your thick skull?” He takes a moment to glance over at you, his mischievous expression never faulting. “You wouldn’t be in my car with me if you didn’t want to.” Fuck him for being right and fuck him for being slightly attractive when he said it. Slightly, not very or even a full hundred percent, but slightly.

He drives you two off to an abandoned looking parking lot where he puts his car into park and turns slightly to face you. “Have you thought about it enough?” You turn to face him, getting as comfortable as you can in the seat. “I guess, but you better pull through with doing half of my part of the project or else I’ll castrate you, no hesitation.” Haechan laughs, a full laugh that has his head tilting back just a bit. You’re fighting the smile that threatens to form on your lips. “You have my word, but we have more important things to go over.” He searches your face when you remain quiet, having the same look you did back at the cafe earlier, he knew you were listening. “Okay, so I was thinking our first appearance as a newly and very much in love ‘couple’ should be at the party this weekend.”

“Scratch that, I don’t party.”

“You’re gonna have to if you wanna keep up with me.” You scowl at him, rolling your eyes mentally as you give in. “Fine, but I’m not making it a habit, I have grades to keep up ya know?” He simply nods, going over the next few things y’all as a couple would have to do together in order to pull this off. Your first outing would be at the party, to much of your disapproval and the following will fall into place like dominos. You’d start having lunch together if your schedules met up, the two of you would spend time between classes together, again if your schedules met up, then you’d also have to sit beside him in your shared class. He also made mention that he’d be picking you up and dropping you off at your dorm so that you’d always be seen with him to make it believable. “Now we need to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules? What are we, five years old?”

A memory flashes through Haechan’s mind, back to when you two were five. You had been on the playground at school by yourself and he was off on the monkey bars when you had fallen off the swing. The ground did not aid your fall, scraping your elbow and knee which resulted in a cry that not only alerted your teacher, but haechan. When get got to you, you were sniffling over the pain and the dirt on your dress, a dress that your mom bought for you for your previous birthday. “Y/n, i told you to wait for me.” Five year old Haechan pouted as he walked with you and the teacher to the nurses office. “I wanted to swing, I didn’t think I’d get hurt.” You replied, holding his hand gently. After that day, the two of you made a rule that you’d play together to make sure if something went wrong, you’d be by each other's side.

“The first rule, no one can know, not your roommate or your friends, if you have any, not even Mark.” You scoff, hitting his arm to which he whined. “For your information, I have friends and it’s not only Mark.” Haechan rubs the sore spot on his arm as he shakes his head at you. “Yeah yeah, the voices in your head don’t count.”

“Fuck you, Lee.”

“Second rule, no falling in love, not with anyone while this is going on, which goes without saying, but no hooking up either and no falling in love with me.”

“How can anyone fall in love with someone like you?” You didn’t realize the weight of your words till you watched the smile from his face fade away. Guilt washed over you in a wave, your face dropping as you see him fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. You’re about to apologize when you see his mood shift, he turns back facing the wheel and starts his car. “Yeah, anyway, two rules and that’s that.” You don’t say anything back, turning back in your seat to fasten your seatbelt. Haechan drives you back onto campus and drops you off in front of your hall. “What time is your class in the morning?” He asks as he puts his car into park. “I think it’s an eight am class, but I’ll text you when I get in.” He nods as you free yourself and get out of his car.

Heading upstairs, the phone in your hand is going off with missed messages from your group chat with your friends. You’re smiling down at them as you push your door open, only to look up and see your four friends sitting with their arms crossed. “Oh hello, did I miss something?”

“We missed you!” Yeongmin stated, sitting with her legs crossed on your bed. “Where have you been, ma’am?” Yechae asked as she gave you a knowing smile. “I was just out, jeez, I’m sorry mom.” Sin-ra giggles as she pushes out her phone for you to see. “Uh huh, and whose car was this?” All the girls ooo at you as you sit down on your bed, filling in the spot next to Yeongmin. “You watched me!” Wonchae shook her finger at you, “What else were we supposed to do when you went missing? One minute, you’re at Mark’s dorm and the next, you’re off the grid!” The four girls immediately started questioning you as you brushed off their curiosity with half-assed answers. You wanted so badly to tell them all that’s going on and the situation you had gotten yourself into, but that was one of the two rules Haechan made. No one can know.

A loud knock on the door interrupts the conversation, all of you looking at one another. “Oh, that must be our RA, I think the pizza is here.” Yeongmin gets up from your bed and goes to open the door, unexpecting the boy who was on the other side. “Hi, uhm, is y/n here?” Haechan’s voice immediately caught your attention as you scramble off your bed while the other three girls give you wide eyed looks. “I’ll get it!” Yeongmin’s grip on the door is stronger than your force of trying to push her out the way. She moves, but not enough to where you'd be blocking their view. She only steps back, opening the door even more for them all to see him standing there with your bag in hand. “Hi, sorry, I didn’t even realize I left it.”

Haechan can tell by the look on your friends' faces that they were shocked to see him there. He had an audience and he was about to put on a show. “No problem baby, you left it in my backseat.” The sudden nickname makes your stomach flip, but you weren’t about to show him that. Instead, you reach for the bag to which he moves with his hand. “Ah ah, I want a kiss goodbye first.” You immediately glare at him to which he gives you a smirk. “Not in front of my friends, silly.” The emphasis you put on the last word has Haechan smiling even wider. “Just one for the road?” With a deep breath in, you had only two options. Kiss him and get him to leave or knee him in his most valued area, but that would be too red of a flag for your friends. You take a step closer to him, standing up on your toes as you press a quick peck on his cheek. As you do so, you grab for your bag that he still was holding, your fingers brushing against his.

“Thank you, I’ll see you in the morning?” Haechan looks dumbfounded for a minute, blinking down at you with slightly parted lips. He wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss him, so for you to do so, he was a bit taken aback. “I’ll be here, goodnight babygirl.”

The show Haechan put on caused an uproar within your friend group that lasted just long enough before the three had to go back to their rooms. They were questioning everything from what the hell that was and since when were you babygirl for anyone else, but them. When you finally admitted that he was your (fake) boyfriend, they all congratulated you on your new relationship and only wished they knew about him before.

The next morning went according to your plans you and haechan texted about the night before. He picked you up, parked right in front of your dorm before your class and even stopped by and got you a drink from the Neo cafe. After he dropped you off at your first class, you didn’t see him much till your shared class where he saved you a seat. The two of you went your separate ways after he walked you to your next class and eventually he dropped you off back at your dorm. “The party starts in a few hours so I’ll text you when I’m coming by.” He said, watching as you get out of his car. “Got it, also don’t come in again, you nearly killed my friends with your little stunt you pulled.” This earned a laugh from Haechan as you shut the door and he waited till you were inside before he pulled off.

By the time you got inside your room, all your friends were already sitting on your and wonchae’s beds as they watched a movie on your shared tv. “Oh good, just in time, the movie just started!” Yechae smiled at you as she paused the movie. “Actually, I have plans, I’m so sorry.” A pout forms on your bottom lip in hope they forgive you. “Actually, do you guys wanna come with me? Haechan is taking me to a party and I don’t wanna leave you guys here.” Sin-ra was already jumping off the bed as she went straight to your closet. “A party, fucking bet!” The other three girls join in as they raid Wonchae’s closet and you text Haechan letting him know they’re coming. To your surprise, he responds with ‘the more the merrier ;)’ and you brush off the wink as you try to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks.

Since there were so many of you and you know already you won’t all fit in Haechan’s car, the girls opt to take Yechae’s car as well and after you all get dressed, you get a text that Haechan was waiting for you out front. “Alright, he’s here, y’all ready?”

“Go ahead and send us the address, we’ll catch up.” Yeongmin gives you a playful push out your door, turning to ask her why before she shuts the door. With that, you go ahead down to his car and open his passenger door. “Hey, the girls are gonna meet us there so can you send me the address really quick?” You haven’t looked at him yet, trying to get your phone out of your pocket. Haechan, on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. You chose to wear an off the shoulder shirt to attempt to blend in paired with some of your nicer jeans and the exposed skin has his heart racing. “Hyuck?” Turning your attention to him, you take in his attire. Leather jacket with a white undershirt and black jeans paired with a black belt. Damn, he actually looked good.

“You look beautiful, y/n.” He sounded like he didn’t mean to say that out loud, his voice barely over a whisper, but that didn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks. “Thank you, not too bad yourself.” Haechan’s face was similar to yours, his cheeks a soft shade of pink. Not just from your compliment, but from how effortlessly the forgotten nickname rolled off your tongue. A few minutes felt like forever passed, the two of you staring at each other with something similar in each other's eyes. For Haechan, it looked like a longing feeling swirling around in his eyes while for you, he could see the same little girl you were back when you were kids and he wonders how much time has passed since he’s seen you like this. You’re the first to break contact, looking away awkwardly as you open your phone to Yechae’s messages. “The address?”

“Huh, I’m sorry, what did you ask for?”

“I asked you earlier for the address to the party.”

Haechan’s lips formed an o as he took the phone you handed over for him. He took the phone, this time your fingers just miss each other and you can’t deny you miss the warmth that radiates from him. After he types in the address, he hands over your phone and the two of you drive silently to the party with the music volume on low. It doesn’t take you long to arrive, people coming in and out as he opts to park up front. “Isn’t it illegal to park here, I thought this was for members only?” You’re unbuckling your seatbelt as you look through the window at the Greek letters above. “Not for me it isn’t.”

His words alone leave you slightly confused, but you get out of the car and as he walks on the other side, he has his hand out for you. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Grab it, we’re a couple, remember?” Oh yeah, you’re here as his girlfriend. Right. Hesitantly, you take your hand within his and interlock your fingers. You haven’t held his hand since you were kids, but damn did it feel right. His hand, obviously larger now, fits with yours perfectly and you shove down the butterflies that climb up your throat as the two of you go inside. The room was crowded, people everywhere leaving little room to actually get through. Haechan’s grip on your hand tightens as he guides you through the room and you can feel the stares of everyone on you as you two make your entrance. The two of you find your way through the main area and over to a slightly less crowded place where some familiar guys stand around a table playing beer pong.

“I want you to meet some guys.” He says loudly to make sure you can hear him over the music. You simply nod and stand a little closer to him as people walk past you. Haechan calls over a few guys you’ve only seen in passing, one very tall and the other slightly shorter with multi-colored hair. “Johnny, Taeyong, this is my girlfriend y/n, y/n, this is Johnny and Taeyong.” Johnny, the taller one gives you a sweet smile as he grabs your free hand and brings it to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.” Taeyong laughs as he pats the others back. “Watch it, Haechan is giving you the death glare.” Haechan drops your hand as you shyly smile, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his hand firmly on your hip. “It’s nice to finally meet you y/n.”

“You’ve heard of me before?”

Taeyong and Johnny exchange looks as they smirk. Haechan on the other hand turns his head as he begins to blush. “Lover boy over here talked about you nonstop when we first met him, i was starting to believe you weren’t real until he told us he finally asked you out.” Taeyong’s words came to you as a shock, not believing Haechan had talked about you to anyone before. “Believe me, he’s definitely down bad for you. You got a good one, Haechan.”

“I know.” He replies with a wide smile as you turn to face him, you’re definitely going to question him on this later. “We’re gonna go get a drink, I’ll catch up with y’all later.” His hand leaves your hip, immediately intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives both boys a hug. You wave them goodbye before Haechan leads you two into the kitchen. “Want anything?” He asks, looking over the table with a variety of alcoholic drinks. “I’ll take some water, I’m not sure if I wanna drink tonight.” He simply nods, respecting your choice as he himself grabs a beer. Just as you’re about to leave, you and haechan turn to see a girl walking in with her arm wrapped around the guy she was with.

“Haechanie, I didn’t know you were coming!”

Judging by how tense Haechan felt beside you, you can only assume that this was his ex, Bomi. “Uh, yeah, I didn’t think you’d be here either.” His tone was flat, but his face was mixed with pain and uninterest. “Yeah, I came with Kai, Kai this is Haechan.” Her smile was fake, even you could see that and the guy she was holding onto gave one similar as he replied with a hey. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there, and who are you?” Her eyes looked soft, but if you looked any closer you could see the burning flame behind that glossy coat. Her lips were turned upward into a smile, but you knew she was lying between her teeth to make you seem less important, to make you feel less important.

“I’m y/n, Haechan’s girlfriend.” You said, squeezing his hand in yours. Haechan came back to his senses, looking over at you with a fond smile. You could feel his gaze on you, but you wanted to mess with his ex a little more. “Who are you? I don’t think I caught your name.” Bomi laughed, a little too loud as she threw her head back a bit. “I’m Bomi, Haechanie’s ex.”

“Oh really, never heard of you.” Your lips purse up a little as you look over at Haechan, his eyes softening when yours lock with his. You honestly could get lost in them if you didn’t realize the amount of people who were staring at you right now. Your attention turns back to Bomi and her new arm candy, her cheerful expression now long gone. “Sorry, we were just stopping for a drink, but it was nice to meet you.” And with that, you guide Haechan from the kitchen and maneuver your way around with him in hand till you reach the stairs. Haechan had silently been following you, thoughts swimming around in his head. “You know a room we can go to that’s clean?”

“Moving pretty fast now aren’t we y/n.”

“Oh shut up, just get us somewhere quiet.”

Haechan smirks as he leads the two of you upstairs, going down a hallway till he stopped at a room and pulled his eyes from his pocket. With his free hand, he unlocks the door and walks inside with your hand still in his. “I lock it when I’m out so that no one can do anything unholy to my bed.” His words register in your brain, but you’re too distracted as you look around in the room. There were vinyls plastered onto the walls, wireless headphones sitting carefully on the side table next to his bed. Haechan drops his hand from yours, furrowing his brows at the lack of warmth that reaches his fingertips while opting to sit on the bean bag across from his bed. You sit down on his bed, noticing he too was already sitting.

Patting your thighs, you take a deep breath in to collect your thoughts from all that’s happened since you two got in while Haechan looks deep in his own head. “So, she’s something.” He laughs softly, fiddling with his fingers as he stares into his lap. “Yeah, she is.”

“And you talk about me?”

Leaning back into the bean bag, he looks at you through hooded eyes. “I did when I first got accepted in, they went around asking personal questions as a bonding experience and you were all I really knew so you naturally came to mind.” You’re fighting the frown as you think about how long you two have hated each other, almost forgetting why you two grew apart for so long. “You okay, after seeing her and all?” With his lips pressed together, he simply nods as he closes his eyes. “I’ll have to be, I mean she looked pretty pissed to see you with me, so that’s a step right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It felt very awkward to be having such a deep conversation with him, but somehow it also felt right. Your silence is interrupted when your phone starts buzzing, pulling it from your pocket and bringing it to your ear to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, we’re here, where are you guys?” Yeongmin called you, you assumed from downstairs as you can hear the faint music through one ear and the louder music through the phone in the other. You mouth to haechan that they were downstairs and ended the call telling her you were on your way. The two of you interlock your hands before going back downstairs, looking for the girls within the crowd. From the staircase, you can barely see them on the dance floor and you signal to haechan to follow you. As you make your way through the sea of bodies against bodies, you see your friends laughing and holding hands as they dance together.

“This is so much fun!” Wonchae smiled at you as she and Yechae held each other close. “If you have any more parties, invite us again!” Yeongmin and Sin-ra smiled at you and haechan, giggling to each other as their favorite song was blasting from the speakers. Haechan drops his hand, turning you around with his hands on your hips. He leans in as he pulls you against him, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Wanna dance?” There’s a faint blush on your cheeks as you simply nod, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his neck. The two of you fall into a rhythm and sway with each other for what feels like hours. After dancing for so long, you’re starting to feel the effects of the night and tell Haechan you’re ready to go home.

You lost the girls way earlier before you decided to leave, sending them a text to tell you when they make it in. Haechan leads you outside, the wind blowing slightly as you two step out of the party. You shiver slightly, rubbing your arms as you walk over to his car. Haechan notices the goosebumps on your skin, immediately taking his jacket off and throwing it over your shoulders. “You’re gonna catch a cold, take it back.” As you’re protesting, he simply shakes his head. “I’m alright for now, just keep it on so you won’t catch a cold.” The warmth of the leather silences you, walking around the front of his car and resting against the top as he stands in front of you.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“For my first college party, yeah I had fun.”

Haechan gasps as you look at him confused. “This was your first party?” You simply nod, chewing on your bottom lip before laughing softly. “As you can tell from my friends, we don’t get out much and the only other person i talk to is Mark.” Haechan steps closer to you, losing in the distance as he tilts your head towards him with his finger. “Let me at least make it memorable.” Your face is bright red as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You stay still, afraid that if you move, he’ll move and you hate to admit to yourself that you don’t want to move. His lips were soft against yours as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands reach out for him, gripping the fabric of his shirt while his hand moves from your chin to cup the side of your cheek.

Haechan was the first to break contact, pulling back as he looked down at you. “How was that for a first college party?” You shake your head, letting go of his shirt to give him a slight shove. “Take me home, idiot.” He laughs as you stand from the hood of his car and the two of you get in, driving around to your hall before you go your separate ways.

The next few weeks go by smoothly, you and haechan seem to be fooling everyone with your physical touch and playful banter when you’re out together. He sits with you when you two go to the cafeteria, eating meals together during your breaks between classes. He’ll meet you at the neo cafe and order your drink for you before you arrive and if you’re tutoring Jaemin, he’ll bring you your drink and sit with you till you’re done. He’s made it a habit to bring you to Taco Bell after your tutoring sessions are over and you two even spend time in the library working on your project, but haechan doesn’t get much work done before he’s bugging you for attention. After all these years, you almost forgot how touchy he is, always grabbing your hand or resting his head on your shoulder and vice versa. The two of you have everyone fooled, even Mark.

“I still can’t wrap my head around you and haechan, I mean one day you were seconds away from ripping his throat out and now you’re giggling at his texts.”

You sheepishly smile as the two of you walk back to his dorm, holding your bag in your hand as you think how much has changed between you and Haechan. Even when you’re alone, he acts no different. He still grabs your hand, plays with your hair, complements you every morning and smiles at you as if every day was the first day you saw each other. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel any different towards him, but you always push those feelings down and remember how you got here. He wants her back, he doesn’t want you, and every time you think of them two wrapped up in each other's arms like how he does with you, it hurts a little more than it should.

“I guess people change, I mean we were friends for a while when we were kids, that played into it too.” You were being truthful, reminiscing on the crush you had on Haechan growing up. Never in a million years would you have told him that, but in a way you also never were given the chance to. Now, here you are with those same harbored feelings and still don’t have a clue with what to do with them. After this is all over, he’ll leave your life once again and you’ll be left to fill the void that no one has ever come close to when it comes to him. “Yeah, I’m just saying, it’s a little weird to me, but I’m happy that you’re happy.” You give Mark a playful shove as you two walk inside his hall and go up to his room. You and Mark haven’t had much time together since you and Haechan started ‘dating’ and today was one of the days you two planned on studying in silence till you both grew bored and ended up listening to music.

“What’s on the agenda today? I got a psych essay to get out of the way.”

“I have some more lab work to go over, but I’m essay free.”

Mark opens his door for you and follows behind as you set your bag down beside his desk. The two of you go about doing your work as your phone starts to buzz on the desktop. Picking it up, you see you have missed texts from Haechan and a few missed calls. Just as you’re about to call him back, his name pops across your screen. Swiping across your phone, you bring it to your ear. “Hey, I’m so sorry my phone was on silent and I just now—“

“Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you by your last class for hours.”

Judging by his tone, he seems annoyed. You felt guilty, forgetting to text him before you met up with Mark to let him know of your plans. “I’m so sorry, Mark and I met up and were studying in his room.” Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes if you could see him. “I’m on my way, meet me in the car.” With that, he hung up as you let out a sigh. “Who was that?” You’re packing up your bags as you look over at the window. It’s raining outside and it doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon. “Haechan, he called and wanted me to meet him outside, i kinda forgot to tell him I was coming with you and he’s kinda upset.” Mark gave you an apologetic smile to which you returned. “Be careful out there and don’t worry, I doubt he’s that mad, okay?”

You simply nod and bid him a goodbye before leaving his room and heading downstairs. When you go out the front doors, Haechan is already parked out front and you hold your bag to your chest to protect it from getting soaked as you run down to his car and quickly get inside. Haechan was gripping the wheel as he stared down at his lap, not looking your way once as you shut the door as you got in and placed your bag between your legs rather than in the back seat. “You okay hyuck?”

Haechan was quiet, you knew he was upset, but you’re starting to think there were underlying reasons as to why. “Why didn’t you tell me you were with Mark.” You bite your lip, furrowing your brows as you reach over to touch him. “I said i was sorry, it completely slipped my mind and I didn’t mean to not tell you, he just asked me if we could hang out since we haven’t recently.”

“How hard is it to send a simple text, y/n?” He definitely was pissed, his knuckles turning an off shade of white with how tight he was gripping the wheel. “Why are you so mad, you know Mark, it wasn’t like I was out with someone random?”

“I’m pissed because I had someone come up to me asking why my girlfriend was walking off giggling with some guy, you ever think of that?”

He’s unbelievable, he’s literally unbelievable. The nagging feeling that this whole situation wasn’t going to end well resurfaces without hesitation, leaving you with a sense of deja vu. “Fake girlfriend, did you forget that?” Haechan laughs, not a genuine laugh, but a laugh that almost felt forced. “You’re right, how could I forget, I mean you’ve done it before so I’m not surprised you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what exactly, donghyuck.”

“Stealing Mark away, taking all of his precious time and acting as if I don’t exist.” His words hit you hard, bringing you back to the day you two first parted ways. When Haechan first introduced you and Mark, there was no doubt in his mind that you two would get along and he was looking forward to spending his days with both of his closest friends, but even at such a young age, jealousy got the best of him. Upon meeting, you and Mark clicked as if you were meant to be friends, talking and laughing together while Haechan stood silently and felt lonely. He didn’t like how quickly you got along with Mark, he didn’t like how much he hated bringing you two together, he especially didn’t like how much resentment he felt towards you even if he didn’t know what he was feeling.

He told you he hated you that day, out of anger and hurt. Not once did he mean it, in fact there were so many times he had wished he never said it and turned the clocks back to keep him from hurting you so badly. The damage had already been done, tears falling down your young cheeks when he told you he had never wanted to be your friend again. You were confused, hurt and overall overwhelmed with the events that happened that day, but you turned your sadness into the same hatred he said he had for you and from then, the two of you never had a nice thing to say about one another. Now here you were, sitting in his car with the hopes of you two finally making progress gone.

“I don’t steal his time, he gives it to me, but you wouldn’t know that because you force people to be around you.” You didn’t mean it, you didn’t even want to say it, but haechan was prideful and used his words to hurt others when he was hurting and you weren’t going to let him win again. “Did you forget that I’m your first actual boyfriend and I’m not even dating you, it’s kind of pathetic you had to get a fake boyfriend to even know what it’s like to have one.” You didn’t realize when you started crying or why you were crying in the first place. Maybe it was because you were angry, angry that he was angry at you over something so little and so stupid. Maybe it was because he hurt you and continues to hurt you over and over and the lines between what was real and what was fake have been blurred.

“Fuck you haechan, I mean honestly, I thought maybe you’d change, maybe the boy i knew then was still there.” He still wasn’t looking at you, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes and see the damage he’s done. “Maybe you didn’t know me at all.” He knew it before you said it, that everything the two of you had been building up to for nearly a month was all over. He didn’t want to believe till you said it, but deep down he knew. “Fuck this, fuck your stupid little plan to get your shitty ex back and fuck you.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and got out of his car, leaving Haechan with his thoughts and the tears that slid down his cheeks as he watched you walk away. Part of you wanted to go back inside to Mark’s room, but that would mean you’d have to explain everything and that was all too much for you to unpack right now. Instead, you walked back to your hall, soaking from head to toe by the time you made it to your room. Wonchae was sitting in her bed when you came in, immediately questioning you why you were soaking wet, but when she realized you were crying, she took you into her arms and held you till you settled down.

That night all the girls came over and stayed with you till you cried yourself to sleep. You had come clean to them all, telling them about the pretend dating to help him get his ex back all the way to your childhood with Haechan and even the fallout of your friendship. You even told them about the feelings you were harboring, sobbing through your broken words. They tried to reassure you, telling you that they believed there was something real between you and Haechan, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them, not after what you just went through with him. Thankfully for you, it was a weekend and you didn’t have classes till the following Monday and that meant you didn’t have to try and avoid him as much as possible.

By the beginning of the week, you do your best to dodge him in any way. You stopped going to the Neo cafe for the first week, Sin-ra taking the initiative to bring you your drink every morning before your first class. In the class you shared with him, at first you’d sit in the very back to avoid being near him and people quickly took notice. It wasn’t long before whispers started going around that you two had broken up and Mark was a part of some of the rumors. When he got wind of everything, you told him the same thing you told your friends and he apologized to you for everything. After so many years, he finally knew why you and Haechan stopped being friends and he felt responsible for that, but you reassured him that there was nothing he could’ve done then or now.

It was nearing your last week for your project and you’re sitting in your shared class with Haechan who was nowhere to be seen. As you’re leaving when the professor tells everyone class was dismissed, your professor stops you and asks you to stay behind. “I wanted you to know that Donghyuck already submitted his portion of the project, so I’ll only need the remaining 25% from you.” You’re confused and it’s evident on your face as you grip the bag over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but we agreed to split it down the middle, what did he submit already?”

“Are you sure? He emailed me this morning and submitted the essay portion and said you’d do the final draft on the slide presentation. Get with him and let me know before the deadline.” You simply nod and bid him a farewell as you leave your last class for the day. There are so many thoughts in your head as you pull your phone from your pocket and just as you’re about to text Haechan, you bump into someone on your way out. “Oh I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, I’m so—y/n?”

When you look up from your phone, you see Johnny standing in front of you. He was a little taken aback to see you, but still happy that he ran into you. “Oh hey, what’s up?” The two of you make small talk as you stand outside the building, chatting about the little things in life. “Oh before I forget, you’re coming to the party tonight right?” You’re unsure what to tell him, your silence leaving open room to answer. “It’s okay if you can’t make it, Haechan said you two were working on a big project so I get why you haven’t been around, but if you come tonight we’d be happy to have you.” Hearing Haechan’s name felt almost foreign, having neither your friends or Mark even uttering his name over these last few weeks. “I’ll see if i can make it.” Johnny gives you a genuine smile before heading off and you two go your own ways. When you make it back to your hall, Wonchae and Yechae are sitting on Wonchae’s bed as they watch a movie on her laptop.

“Wanna watch the movie with us, I can put it on the tv?” You smile at Yechae’s offer, but simply shake your head. “I’m gonna go to sleep instead, thank you though.” You slip underneath your blanket and lay in bed till your eyes get too heavy to keep open anymore. You’re not sure what time it was when your phone starts going off, waking you from your peaceful sleep. Your fumble as you sit up in bed, grabbing your phone from your side table. Through tired eyes, you see an unknown number calling you and hesitantly, you slide across your phone to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/n, we need you here! Haechan is whining for you.” You recognize Johnny’s voice, the mention of Haechan’s name sending a rush of adrenaline through your body. “Where is he?” You try to be as quiet as you can, looking over at Wonchae and Yechae cuddling silently in her bed. “He’s upstairs, I kind of lost him when I was busy cleaning up his puke, but I managed to snatch his phone before he disappeared to call you.” With a heavy sigh, you climb out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt before telling Johnny you’re on your way. Without a car, you’d have to walk all the way to the frat house where the party was thrown, but it’d take too long for you to get there so you opt to run instead as you mentally thank yourself for taking track one year in high school.

As you’re reaching the doors to the house, you’re panting and out of breath while dragging yourself inside. Pretty much everyone was gone and the scattered cups on the ground gave you an idea of how the night went. Johnny was crouched down picking things up off the floor when you walked in, looking your way as you tried to catch your breath. “Oh hey y/n, you okay? You look kind of..sweaty.” You shook your head as your hands rested on your hips, taking in slow deep breaths to steady your breathing. “Where is he?” You were here to find Haechan, as much as you wanted to make small talk with Johnny, you were too tired to even try. “Check his room, Taeyong should still be up there with him.” Nodding, you drag your feet towards the staircase and tiredly make your way to the top. Going solely off memory, you walk down the hallway till you’re standing in front of Haechan’s room. From inside, you can hear faint crying and Taeyong’s voice.

Pushing the door open gently, you see Haechan sitting on his bed with a cup of water in his hand while Taeyong is sitting beside him. When he noticed your entrance, Taeyong stood up from the bed and silently walked towards you. He placed his hand gently on your shoulder before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. You stood in the middle of the room, staring at the boy who was silently sniffling as he stared down at his cup in his hand. “Do you have your keys, I can bring you to your room if you do.” He simply shook his head, gripping the cup in his hand. A sigh left your lips as you turned to his closet, rummaging through his clothes. “W-what are you doing?” You pull a shirt off a hanger, walking over to him. “You can’t sleep in that, it has liquids on it.” Haechan stays still, as if he was frozen in time. His body shook slightly every time he hiccuped, but he didn’t bother moving.

“Get changed please, I’ll leave so you can—“

“Please don’t leave me.”

You’re biting your bottom lip as you see his head rise, meeting his swollen and teary eyes. “Just for tonight, I just need you tonight.” He looked so sad, tears dried on his cheeks as he fought back the tears. You should’ve left, hell you shouldn’t have even come, but you needed to make sure he was okay and from the looks of it, he was far from it. “I’ll turn around, but you need to get out of your clothes and into something to sleep in.” Silently, he stands from his bed and sets the cup on his desktop. You handed him the shirt you grabbed from his closet, walking towards the door and facing away so that he could get dressed. After a few minutes pass, Haechan tells you he’s done and you turn around to him laying in his bed on one side, leaving space for you on the other.

Walking over after turning off the light, you pull back the blanket and slide into the space he’s left you. The two of you lay in silence, the moonlight shining through the cracks of his window cover. “I’m sorry.” Haechan’s voice was barely over a whisper, but neither of you could bring it to look at each other. “You’re drunk, you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You could feel how tense he was beside you, if you reached out to him you were afraid he’d fall apart. “I’m sober enough to know what I'm saying and I need you to believe me on that.” You shift onto your side, tucking your underneath his pillow as your eyes fall to the side of his face. He can feel your gaze on him, waiting for him to continue. “I didn’t mean anything I said that day, even back when we were kids.

“I was jealous of your friendship with Mark, in a way I still am because he’s been by your side this whole time and because of my insecurities, I missed all of that.” You knew he had a hard time believing in people after he had been let down many times before, you understood where he was coming from, but that doesn’t justify his actions. “I’m sorry you had to come out here at this hour, I don’t remember much of what I said to the boys, but it was enough for them to call you and for that, i'm sorry for wasting your time.”

The light coming from his window was just enough for you to see the tear that slid from his eye down the side of his face. “Was she here tonight?” You knew it was none of your business, you had no right to be asking him this, but part of you needed to know. “Yeah.”

“Did you guys get back together, I mean that was the whole point of this right?”

Haechan turns on his side to face you, tucking his arm underneath his head to prop himself up to your eye level. “She tried, but I told her it was over when she left me for that guy.” You’re a bit taken aback, why did he turn her down? What was the point of all of this if it was not for him to win her back. “Why, didn’t you want her back?” Haechan’s eyes locked with yours, searching them for something to give him the confidence to go on. He could see it in your eyes, but for so long he had been too scared to ruin what you two were building. “Spending this time with you blurred everything around me y/n, she was what I thought I wanted, but it wasn’t till I lost you that I knew what I needed instead.”

You felt speechless, staring at him with parted lips. He had just confessed that you were what he wanted and that alone made your head feel dizzy. Now lies the difficult decision, to lie and pretend you don’t feel anything to protect yourself or run to him and trust that he’ll protect you instead and all the love you have in your heart for him. “Say something please.” Hesitantly, you bring a hand up to his face, brushing his hair back to get the best view of him as possible. “Looks like we have a problem.”

“And that is?”

“I broke one of the two rules we made, well technically I broke them both but the first rule was broken after you were an asshole.” Haechan sat up, propping himself on his elbow as he stared down at you. “Does that mean I can kiss you?” A smile spreads across his lips as he watches the light reflect in your eyes. You give him a nod, all the confirmation he needed to lean down and capture your lips within his. The kiss felt familiar, like he had done this a million times before. Your arm wraps around his neck, pulling him close to you as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. The two of you healed a part of you that was long overdue, the two best friends within you now reunited. Now that you’re older, you not only have your best friend back, but the young boy you loved is too there beside you.

so for starters if you’ve gotten this far, why thank you pook 🥹i’m really sorry if the ending feels rushed, i’ve never written something this long before so i was struggling i tell ya🥲🫂 and i just wanna say ily and you’re doing great and if you liked it,, pls lmk! it always helps when you share your thoughts w me 🫶

[021894s]

— 15 unexpected guest

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRING: brothers bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: cussing

AUTHORS NOTE: eee as always sorry for the delay!! enjoy!! more drama is to come hehe

The early morning air was crisp, the kind that nipped at your cheeks and made your breath visible in soft, fleeting clouds. Everyone was a symphony of yawns and stretches, their movements sluggish as they loaded up the cars with an assortment of personal belongings, a testament to the eagerness for the adventure ahead, despite the sleep still clinging to everyone’s eyes.

The atmosphere was a blend of excitement and the comfortable silence of friends who didn't need to fill every space with words. That is until an unexpected figure approached, her presence as surprising as the morning dew on a day forecasted to be dry.

Ningning, with her bright eyes and easy smile, was a splash of color against the muted morning. Sunghoon was by her side, his hand casually brushing against hers as if to reassure both her and himself. The introduction was simple, "Guys, this is Ningning, a friend," but it hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words and histories. Her kind eyes and radiant smile shining through as she greeted everyone.

your heart skipped, not out of joy but a twinge of something more complex, something tcouldn't quite name. The night you had spent with Sunghoon was a shadow, now joined by another – the knowledge of Ningning's own closeness with him. The words 'just friends' never felt so loaded, so utterly insufficient.

The car ride was a mosaic of awkward glances and forced small talk, with Ningning's clinginess to Sunghoon like a silent siren. you sought refuge by the window, the cool glass a small comfort as she let the lull of the road coax her into a restless sleep.

Upon awakening, the cabin loomed before you, grand and inviting. The rush to claim rooms was a temporary balm, a distraction from the tension that had settled in you chest. But it was the quiet moment by the trunk, the offer from Sunghoon to help with her bags, that truly set the tone.

your exchange was brief, the air thick with sarcasm and unshed emotions. "It's not gonna be awkward, right?" Sunghoon's question was hopeful, perhaps too much so.

"Why would it be? We're both over it, right?" The sarcasm in your voice didn't quite mask the hurt that lingered.

"Right," Sunghoon agreed, but the silence that followed was anything but right. It was the silence of things left unsaid, of feelings not quite forgotten

Saerom's expression was a mixture of concern and apology as she pulled you aside, away from the group's laughter that seemed to echo a little too loudly in the small space. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Ningning would be here," she murmured, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

you mustered a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes but did its job well enough. "It's okay, really. I'm fine," you assured, your voice steady like a well-rehearsed line from a play. Saerom wasn't entirely convinced, but she nodded, accepting the brave front you presented.

The reassurance was for both of you, a silent pact to move past the awkwardness. After all, there was a weekend of memories waiting to be made, and you was determined not to let the shadow of past feelings darken the present moment.

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[chosok-amo]

heyy can you write something about megumi x fem reader who’s struggling with social anxiety and he’s the only who understands her and tries to help her even if he’s really introverted, something really fluff and a bit romantic. thank u so muchhh

ᨳ A SAFE HARBOR : MEG. FUSHIGURO!

megumi fushiguro . . . after the Goodwill Event, Satoru Gojo takes his students to a festival near Shibuya. Overwhelmed by social anxiety amidst the bustling crowd, lucky for you Megumi was there to help.

The vibrant lights of the festival cast a warm glow over the bustling streets, and the sounds of laughter, chatter, and music filled the air. Colorful stalls lined the paths, offering an array of delicious foods, games, and trinkets. Among the crowd were students from Jujutsu High, led by their ever-enthusiastic teacher, Satoru Gojo.

As you arrived at the festival with your classmates, your heart began to beat faster. The sheer number of people, the overwhelming noise, and the constant motion were almost too much to handle. You felt a lump form in your throat as you took in the scene, your anxiety rising with every step.

Gojo, noticing your hesitation, gave you a reassuring smile. “Alright, everyone! Let's stick together and have some fun!” he announced, his voice carrying over the noise. His enthusiasm was infectious, but it did little to quell the storm brewing inside you. “But remember, if anyone needs a break, just let me know.”

You clutched the strap of your bag tightly, trying to ground yourself. The vibrant colors and enticing aromas that should have been exciting only added to your sensory overload. Your breathing became shallow, and you fought to keep your composure.

Gojo's tall figure led the group through the crowd, his white hair and blindfold making him easy to spot. Around you, your classmates seemed to be enjoying themselves, their laughter and chatter blending into the chaotic symphony of the festival. You tried to stay close to them, hoping their presence would offer some comfort, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your anxiety at bay.

As you all made your way to the long path of stalls, the lively bickering among your friends provided a welcome distraction from your anxiety. Maki, Panda, Toge, Nobara, and Yuji were engaged in a spirited debate about the festival attractions. Maki, always direct, started. “All right, let’s be real. The games here are rigged. You'd have better luck getting a date with Gojo than winning one of those giant stuffed animals.”

Panda chuckled, “Come on, Maki. They're not all rigged. You just have to know the tricks. Right, Toge?” Its fluffy arm nudges the much shorter boy besides, almost knocking the boy over. Toge, always the man of few words, simply nodded and said, “Salmon.”

Yuji, ever the optimist, wasn't convinced. “I don't know, Maki. I think with enough tries, anyone can win. I’m definitely getting one of those giant bears tonight.” Nobara snorted hearing the optimism lingering in Yuji's voice. “Yuji, you couldn’t win a goldfish in a barrel. Let alone a giant stuffed bear. You’re just gonna waste all your money,” she laughed while rolling her eyes, clearly dismissing the Sukuna's vessel nonchalantly.

Yuji pouted. “That’s not fair! Besides, I'm not the only one who wants to try the games. Right, Toge?” Toge grinned and gave a thumbs-up, “Tuna mayo.” The poor boy is only doing something his friends want to hear, and can't be bothered by his friends' nonsense. Maki crossed her arms. “Fine, but when you all lose, don’t come crying to me. I’ll be over at the food stalls, getting something actually worth my time.”

Panda’s eyes lit up, “Speaking of food, did you guys hear about the teriyaki stall? They have a special filling tonight. We have to check it out.” Nobara perked up on the other hand. “Taiyaki?” She asked, sounding interested, “Now that sounds worth it. We can hit the food stalls and then laugh at Yuji trying to win something.” Yuji grumbled, his brown irises rolling in annoyed, “Hey, I’m standing right here, you know.” Maki glanced at the pink-haired boy, a smirk visible on his lips, “We know, Yuji. That’s what makes it so fun.”

Megumi listened to his classmates' spirited conversation about the rigged games and the allure of food. He remained silent, watching the back-and-forth banter between Yuji and Maki, Toge and Panda, and Nobara with mild amusement as the conversation turned to the festival attractions, he remained silent, taking in their different opinions and ideas.

But his mind wasn’t solely focused on their words. He was keenly aware of you standing nearby, the tension in your body language not going unnoticed by him. He noted your evident anxiety, your grip on your bag, and your shallow breathing. Despite his usual nonchalant demeanor, he couldn’t help but worry about you.

He continued to observe you from the corner of his eye as the group continued down the long path of stalls, not quite ready to speak up just yet. Megumi knew that you were likely struggling to keep it together. He felt a pang of concern and wanted to ask if you were alright, but he also knew that drawing attention to your anxiety might only make it worse.

Maki raised an eyebrow, her competitive spirit ignited by the challenge. “Oh, you think you've got me figured out, huh? Well, alright, I'm game. What's the wager, my dear friend?” Panda chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about this, Maki? If you manage to win one of those giant stuffed animals, we'll treat you to a whole day of pampering. Massages, facials, the works!”

Nobara chuckled, adding her own twist to the wager. “But, if you fail to conquer the games, you'll have to wear a ridiculous costume of our choosing for the rest of the festival. And trust me, Maki, we've got some seriously outrageous ideas up our sleeves, right, y/n?” You flinched slightly at the unexpected weight of Nobara's arm around yours, but you managed to keep your reaction minimal.

“Um... I guess so,” you mumbled, not really feeling up to the idea of making a wager yourself. As Nobara's arm looped around yours, you could feel your heart racing. You tried to maintain your composure, forcing a shaky smile in response to her question.

Megumi noticed your lack of enthusiasm and the way you shrank slightly under Nobara's arm. He remained quiet, still observing you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Maki's competitive grin widened. “You're on, my friends! Prepare to witness greatness as I conquer those rigged games with style. And just remember, when I emerge victorious, your wallets will feel the sting of treating me like the queen that I am!”

Yuji, ever the peacemaker, interjected with a laugh. “Hold on, guys! How about we make it more interesting? If Maki wins, we'll also have to carry all her winnings for the rest of the festival. And if she loses, she'll treat us to a feast at the fanciest restaurant in town!” Toge, breaking his silence, gave a sly nod of agreement. “Octopus dumplings.”

Maki's eyes sparkled with determination. “Deal! Get ready to witness the triumph of the century. I'll show you all what it means to have luck and skill on your side!” And with that, the group set off towards the games, anticipation hanging in the air as they prepared for a friendly battle of wits, luck, and plenty of laughter along the way.

As the group made their way through the crowd towards the game stalls, the conversation continued. Yuji was excitedly discussing food, while Maki bragged about her gaming skills. Megumi remained largely silent, listening more than he spoke, his focus partly on you. He observed the way your shoulders tensed as the noise continued to grow louder. He noticed the way your eyes darted around the crowd, taking in the sights, sounds, and people all around you.

As the group made their way towards the games, you couldn't help but feel even more anxious. The thought of participating in the friendly competition did not appeal to you at all. You tried to maintain your composure, but the sight of the various game stalls and the increasing noise of the crowd were making it difficult to keep your anxiety at bay.

Megumi walked silently beside you, occasionally glancing at you, his expression still calm and neutral. He could sense your discomfort and unease, which was only heightened by the boisterous banter and challenges among your classmates.

“Fushiguro, lend me a hand in bringing Maki down! I can't let her waste my hard-earned cash on this ridiculous game!” Yuji called out to his spike-haired comrade. Megumi, however, politely declined. “I'll pass, I need to grab something from Gojo-sensei,” he said, turning his attention towards you. “Y/n, would you like to come with me? I don't think I can handle it on my own,” he asked, his expression calm and reassuring.

You tilted your head, a mix of confusion and concern evident on your face as you looked up at Megumi. His tranquil blue eyes conveyed a sense of reassurance, making you believe that everything would be alright. “Y-yeah,” you stammered, nodding in agreement. Without waiting for a response from his friends, Megumi took your hand in his and held it tightly, gently leading you away from the bustling crowd.

Megumi's grip on your hand was firm yet gentle as he led you through the maze of the festival. It was a subtle gesture of comfort and reassurance, something you desperately needed in the midst of the overwhelming noises and sights. He guided you away from the boisterous group, his presence seemed to create a small bubble of calm around you.

As you walked, your gaze remained fixed on the ground, consciously avoiding eye contact and occasionally bumping into people. Struggling to keep up with Megumi's pace, you desperately tried to match his stride. You walked, Megumi's eyes glanced repeatedly at you, noting your downcast gaze and the way you kept your distance from him. It was obvious to anyone that you were struggling to cope with the overstimulation around you. As you stumbled slightly, clearly straining to keep up with his pace, Megumi made a decision to pull you closer to himself.

“Come here,” Megumi murmured softly, his arm slipping around your waist and pulling you closer until your chest lightly brushed against his side. He looked down at you with a gentle gaze . . soft even, he could sense the anxiety welling up within you. concerned about your well-being. “Is this alright for you?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

You swallowed hard, attempting to contain your anxiety and nervousness, as they threatened to escape their confines. With a quiet nod, you whispered, “Yeah,” and mustered the courage to look up at him. “I'll stay close, okay?” Once again, you nodded, your hand clutching a handful of his uniform as he resumed his walk, enveloping you under his protective arm.

Megumi's protective arm and strong frame brought a sense of security to you. The contact felt unfamiliar yet simultaneously soothing, especially considering he was not one for physical displays of affection. He could see your anxiety and unease written all over your face, but he remained calm and composed.

As he walked, he instinctively adjusted his pace and gait, syncing them with yours to match your strides. He observed you from the corner of his eyes, making sure you weren't overwhelmed by the environment around you. Megumi observed you closely, noticing the way your eyes darted back and forth, avoiding direct contact. Your body seemed tense, almost as if it was prepared to flee at any moment. He could feel the tightness in your muscles through the sleeve of his uniform.

He walked slowly, making sure to match your pace and occasionally checking on you from the corner of his eyes. The further you moved away from the lively commotion, the more relaxed you seemed to feel, and the vice-like grip you had on his uniform softened slightly. “Are you... okay?” he asked again, his voice a low murmur meant for your ears only. His hand gently squeezed your waist, a subtle gesture of reassurance.

As Megumi's voice cut through the low hum of the festival, you looked up at him, your eyes slightly wider than usual. The subtle squeeze of your waist startled you, and you took a moment to let your mind register his question. You couldn't help but feel a pang of vulnerability. Your heart fluttered for a moment, but you quickly composed yourself and nodded. “Y-yeah,” you whispered, still holding onto his uniform.

Once you both escaped the clamor of the bustling festival, Megumi guided you to a bench nestled beside a majestic tree, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. His gentle gaze remained fixed on you as he asked, “Will you wait for me?” He made it clear that he wouldn't leave unless you wanted him to. However, you nodded in reassurance, prompting him to nod as well before he slowly departed, leaving you to enjoy a moment of solitude.

You released a sigh of relief, your eyes soaking in the sight of the cityscape, where soft flickering lights danced in the distance. The gentle breeze caressed your face and swayed your hair, creating a serene atmosphere. As you relished in the momentary solitude, your heart rate gradually eased, and the tightness in your chest slightly lifted. Before long, Megumi returned, clutching a bottle of water in one hand and a handful of candies in the other, your eyes darted to the sight of him. He settled next to you, his presence bringing a sense of comfort. “Here, have this,” he said, settling down beside you and offering the water first.

You accepted the water bottle, still trying to regain your composure. As you took a sip, the refreshing liquid helped to soothe your parched throat and clear your head. You glanced at Megumi, noticing the candy in his other hand. “What are the candies for?” you asked, your voice a bit raspy from the anxiety-induced dryness in your mouth.

Megumi's expression faltered, his face reflecting a mix of confusion and uncertainty. “I... I don't know,“ he murmured, shaking his head with a small chuckle as you joined in. “But here,” he continued, offering you the candy, “I think this might make you feel better.”

You couldn't help a small smile as you noticed the slight confusion on his face. It was out of character for him to do something without a clear reason, and the fact that he admitted he didn't know why he bought the candies struck you as endearing.

Taking the candy from his hand, you examined it for a moment before popping it into your mouth. The sweetness of the candy combined with the gesture of his thoughtfulness made you feel more relaxed than before. “Thanks, Megumi,” you said quietly, grateful for his thoughtfulness. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

Megumi's stoic facade softened at your words. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and a slight tinge of pink dusted his cheeks. “You don't need to thank me,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I just... I want you to feel better. It doesn't sit right with me when you're...” He hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “When you're not okay.”

“Beside..” he mumbled, a hint of teasing in his voice. “I can't have you being anxious the entire night. It wouldn't be much of a festival then, would it?” You chuckled softly, feeling some of the tension ease out of your body. His attempt at humor, subtle as it was, was appreciated. “You're right,” you said, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “I suppose I wouldn't be the best company if I was constantly on edge the entire night.” His hand instinctively reached for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours unconsciously.

You looked at his hand intertwined with yours, the physical contact feeling comforting and reassuring. a small smile forming on your lips. “I promise I'll try not to let my anxiety ruin the night.” Megumi's voice softened as he gently protested, his hand reaching out to pull you closer by your shoulder until there was no distance left between you two. “Hey, don't say that,” he murmured, his touch warm and comforting. “You know it's not your fault. It's not something you can control.”

His large hands moved up and down your arm in a soothing gesture, offering reassurance and support. In his embrace, you could feel his genuine care and understanding, a sense of safety enveloping you. Megumi's presence was a comforting balm, reminding you that you were not alone in your struggles.

Your heart skipped a beat as he pulled you closer, bringing you flush against his side. The sudden closeness caught you off guard, but his soothing touch on your arm made you feel more at ease. His words, spoken with a firm yet soothing tone, assured you that he didn't blame you for your anxiety. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, and you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “I know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know I can't help it, but I still can't help feeling frustrated, you know?“ His large hands continued to gently move up and down your arm, each stroke a silent reassurance.

You leaned closer into him, feeling his strength and warmth emanating through the contact. The gentle rhythm of his hand moving up and down on your arm was grounding, helping to ease your racing thoughts and quell the butterflies in your stomach.

Megumi's expression softened as he listened to your words. His hand gently moved from your arm to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He gave you a small, encouraging squeeze, his gaze never leaving your face. “I know it's frustrating,” he said, his voice soothing and comforting. “But you don't have to carry the burden of feeling guilty. It's not your fault, and the fact that you're trying is more than enough.” His hand continued to move in slow, gentle circles on your waist, the contact providing a sense of grounding comfort.

As Megumi's words sank in, a wave of relief washed over you. His reassurance and understanding were like a soothing balm to your anxiety-stricken mind. You couldn't help but lean a little bit closer to him, seeking more of the comfort he was offering. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice softer than before. “For understanding. For being so . . accepting.” His hand on your waist resumed its gentle rubbing, a silent reassurance that he was there, present and supportive.

Megumi's grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly at your words, his gaze softening even further. The small action spoke volumes, conveying a silent message of reassurance and support. “You don't have to thank me for that,” he muttered, his voice gentle yet firm. “It's the least I can do.”

He shifted, bringing himself closer to you, closing any remaining distance between your bodies. The familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body against yours were grounding, pulling you further from your anxious thoughts.

A peaceful silence settled between the two of you as you both admired the sprawling cityscape before you. Your eyes momentarily drifted down to your hands, intertwined and resting gently on Megumi's thigh. You could feel the comforting sensation of his thumb caressing your hand, creating a tender connection between you.

A playful smile danced across your lips as you glanced up at Megumi, teasingly remarking, “You seem awfully touchy tonight.” Your gaze met his, curiosity sparkling in your eyes, eager to hear his response.

Megumi's hand stilled on yours, paused mid-motion. For a brief moment, he was taken aback by your comment. His facial expression betrayed a hint of surprise, but it was quickly masked with a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Megumi's head tilted slightly to the head. His hand, still intertwined with yours, still on his thigh, gave a playful squeeze.

“Touchy, huh?” he retorted, his voice laced with a teasing tone. He shifted his position slightly, angling himself to face you more directly. “Is that a complaint?” His thumb continued to caress the back of your hand, the gentle touch simultaneously comforting and electrifying. You tilted your head, a sly grin forming on your lips. “A complaint? Hardly. If I wanted to complain, you'd know. Consider this a friendly reminder to keep up the good work.”

You gently squeezed his hand back, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “But hey, if you need reassurance, I can always provide some pointers.”

Megumi's smirk widened into a genuine smile at your playful response. The banter between you felt natural and comfortable, the ease of conversation a testament to the years of friendship and familiarity that lay between you. “Oh, is that so?” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of challenge. “And here I thought I was doing just fine on my own.” He shifted again, his grip on your hand tightening ever so lightly, his thumb still caressing your skin in slow, soothing circles. “But... I suppose I could always use some pointers from an expert like yourself.”

You arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “An expert, huh? Well, it's good to see you finally recognizing talent when you see it.” You leaned in slightly, your voice taking on a playful tone. “But don't worry, Megumi. With my guidance, you'll be a pro in no time.” You gave his hand a playful squeeze. “Just try to keep up, alright?”

Megumi chuckled, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge. “Oh, I'll keep up, alright,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of determination. He matched your lean, bringing his face slightly closer to yours. His gaze dropped to your intertwined hands for a moment before returning to your eyes, a spark of playful rivalry lighting his gaze. “You better be prepared to put your money where your mouth is,” he teased, his grip on your hand tightening almost imperceptibly.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

for a conrad x reader request- could you do one where conrad is just really overwhelmed and stressed out and just needs comfort and physical touch?

When I saw this hug in the trailer, my heart could not handle it. He looks so soft and sad and- It's probably one of my favorite moments

warnings: mention of cancer, sad!conrad

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You knew something was off with Conrad when you received five calls in the past three days. 

This was a stark contrast to his usual pattern of calling you every night since he started college. Despite telling him it wasn’t necessary to call every night and prioritize his studies, Conrad was insistent that it wouldn't affect his grades.

During your calls, you noticed a change in his demeanor. He seemed distant and unengaged, merely listening to you without his usual laughter at your humor, which raised further suspicions that something was off. You suspected it was related to Susannah. She started this new treatment a few weeks ago and Conrad didn’t like being away from her. It worried him to be so far away from her.

You wanted to surprise him. Sparks some happiness into his sad eyes and bottles up hardships.

You stood on the other side of his dorm door, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You wanted everything to go perfectly, knowing that the impact of your surprise could mean so much to Conrad in his current state.

What if his roommate doesn’t want you there and gets into an argument with Conrad? What if Conrad doesn’t want you there? 

Your stomach twisted into a knot. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, you took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door, your heart pounding with anticipation as you waited. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Conrad's tired but surprised expression. 

‘’What are you doing here? I was just about to call.’’ 

You gave him a soft smile. ‘’This is much better than a phone call, isn’t it?’’ 

He nodded, the corner of his mouth curling slightly despite his overall tired appearance. The dark circles under his eyes could be from school alone, but this wasn’t just from getting less hours of sleep. His gaze was distracted, absent, by times. 

Like now.

‘’Are you gonna invite me in or do I have to camp outside your dorm?’’ you asked, snapping Conrad out of his thoughts.

‘’Oh, eh…yeah, sorry.’’ He stepped aside, inviting you in. ‘’I had a class at 8am, my brain is a bit tired.’’ 

It was a lie. But you didn’t say anything. 

‘’My roommate is at some frat party,’’ Conrad explained, closing the door and locking it. ‘’Shouldn’t be here until late. Very late. Unless he crashes at Deborah’s dorm.’’ 

You nodded, setting your bag on the floor on Conrad’s side of the room. It was small for two people, but what were you expecting? It’s a college dorm.

A frown formed when you saw how untidy Conrad’s space was. There was a mess of papers and textbooks scattered around on his desk, indicating the stress he was under with his studies, and the dirty laundry basket was full and spilled onto the floor a little. This was so unlike him. 

On his nightstand, you noticed a piece of photobooth strip and smiled. You took these at the mall last spring, right before Conrad overheard his parents and learned about Susannah’s cancer. It was the last time you saw him truly happy. The last time his mother’s health wasn’t constantly in the back of his mind. 

‘’You keep a picture of us by your bed,’’ you pointed out, picking up the photobooth strip. 

Conrad turned his head toward you. ‘’Yeah,’’ he admitted, rubbing his palms over his blue jeans. 

You set the photobooth strip back to its place and slowly stepped toward Conrad. Through the phone, he could hide behind his many walls, but in person, it was easy for you to see that he wasn't okay. You could see right through him.

‘’Connie? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?’’ 

Conrad nodded as he lowered his head. 

He tried to put on a brave front, but deep down, he wanted nothing more than to fall apart in your arms and stay there forever. Life had become such a heavy weight lately, he wasn't sure he could deal with it.

‘’Come here.’’ You drew him close and, like pieces falling into places, his arms wrapped around you and he rested his head on your shoulder with a vulnerability only you was allowed to see him in. You raised a hand to his shoulder, soothingly rubbing his back.  ‘’Nothing is alright,’’ he admitted, his arms tightening around you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

—

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[urhoneycombwitch]

in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

wc: 3k

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- ���You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

[kombuuuu]

Saviour of Mine.

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“You want stitches, big boy.”

“You gonna' stay on top of me?”

“No, but I'll make it hurt real nice.”

warnings : a little jealousy, not enjoying the spiderciety, a tad angst, more medical stuff i don’t know shit abt, misunderstandings, creepy obsession by a teacher, it gets better at the end promise,

requested by @viozxe :3 my boy my love i love him (gatekept this image for like two weeks but i finally have somewhere to use it)

For a man so true to his word, Miles had a thing for flaking on you.

You hadn’t seen him in around six hours. The event he had fled from leaving you dressed in your nicest clothes, looking like a sweet mess surrounded by family members not your own. After the first forty or so minutes, you had politely excused yourself from his Mama Rio and Officer Jefferson — Who both insisted you refer to them by their first names — , and booked it out of there.

You'd assumed he'd ran off with his little spider-clique. Something you'd rather not join, considering your particular distain for the man in charge. Who so happened to have quite the distaste for you, also. Avoiding the mirage of spider people had been relatively easy thus far, with the multi-versal gaps and all. But when Gwen Stacy had started to come see Miles more often — You would have to either sit through the excruciating task of listening to them talk. Which involved a lot more intimate moments than you were comfortable with being witness too. Or leave whilst she was there, and presumably not talk to Miles for a few hours — or.. days. Depending on wether he ditched you for her or not.

Having your best friend, of which you had fallen infatuated too, try and get with another girl right on front of you, any time they were together? Not the most ideal of situations. So you went home.

—

You cradled the led pencil on your dominant hand, other tapping to the beat of the song playing through your headphones. Sweet R&B to soothe your woes, whilst you focused on the homework in front of you.

You grabbed the rubber, sighing in exasperation and starting to scrub at your page, getting a little too frustrated and tearing the flimsy paper in the process.

You stared at the tear for a moment before borderline yelling, a tearless sob escaping you before you dropped your head against your desk. Slumping down into a flopped position.

You had to complete this by Monday, you knew that. Mr. Warren was the nicest teacher at your school. He’d helped you when you parents couldn’t. Taken you in — you’d even told him about Miles. He didn’t seem to like him very much, said it was a shame they shared a first name. You thought it was a crazy coincidence.

You slowly slid off your chair, pushing it back on its wheels as you went until eventually you were rested lying on the ground, staring at the window of your room.

Golden light shone through your curtains in a bright calling, basically signalling your escape as it sung to you.

You stared for another solid minute before groaning, Mr. Warren could wait.

Avidly ignoring the ache in your chest at the thought of finding Miles with the current focus of his interest.

You crawled to your closet and reached for the handle, still on the floor — before remembering your Van Der Waals and just using the tip of your fingers to lazily pull it open.

You snorted at yourself, before shuffling through the box at the bottom of your closet and pulling out the sleek spider suit.

The next minute was spent trying to energetically shuffle on your suit, and get your adrenaline running. Which proved working when you were rather excited — or antsy — to swing your way around the city.

You closed your window behind you, crawling up your building and letting the cold air force you more awake.

You backed up, jumping a little hop as you did. Bouncing on your feet before you ran, leaping off your building in a refreshing spin.

An excited yelp left your mouth before you shot a web to the next building over, using the top of a bus on the bust Brooklyn streets to boost your momentum, gradually gaining speed as you swung through the city in a series of twists and flips. Graceful swinging amidst a series of fumbling and laughing to yourself, still somewhat new to the spider-person talents.

You pulled out your phone, the small thigh pocket you had specially designed for your suit making it easier to carry your essentials around when you were in no need for over coats.

You stuttered in your swings, a small squeak escaping you when you almost hit a bird, yelling out a “Sorry!” to the poor thing.

The thwip of your web attaching to a near tall building sent another rush through you, curving yourself between two structures and landing on top of a bell tower. The same one you and Miles had been visiting together for the past year. You tripped a little over your own feet before righting yourself, smiling under the mask.

You didn’t need those other spider people, didn’t need a “Community to fall back on.”—, as that Miguel had put it.

You had yourself, Miles, and a teacher that supported you. And that’s all you needed.

—

You dialled Miles’ number. The irony of your inner statement making you cringe a little. You inner voice convincing you that literally no one else can hear you be embarrassed. You were speaking in your head. Your other—, more combative, inner voice— saying otherwise.

You willed them both quiet as your phone rung.

Miles’ cute face being showing on the profile photo, you stared at it as you waited, foot tapping the cement bell tower.

His face was in your hands, and smiling that charming smile he always did. His cheeks were squished in your hold as you kissed his cheek, holding the camera.

It was a romantic photo, if not for the fact you were best friends. You found yourself getting jealous of your past self. Chastising her for not relishing in that moment further.

Your phone beeped twice, signalling the call ringing out. You stared at it curiously, Eyes of your mask tilting into confused slants.

“C’mon man, pick up.” You whispered to yourself, glaring at the device in your hands and trying again.

When he didn’t pick up then, either — you had started to get impatient. And ended up rolling your eyes at him.

Muttering curses along with phrases of envy under your breath.

You had nothing against Gwen, in all honestly, she was a perfect fit for him — charming and troubled just like he was. Able to bond over their shared issues and shared interest.

Like each other.

You scoffed and shoved your phone back into your pocket, before angrily shooting a web, and slinging away.

Going to a bodega you knew always cheered you up to get rid of the mood you had out yourself in.

—

You walked out of the bodega with your bag in hand, your other waving joyfully to the owner, Hoa, the sweet lady you had met three weeks after moving here. Who made the best Bánh Mi you could find. You pet her cat on the way out, the sweet Turkish Angora purring as she nosed along your hand.

Hoa yelled out for you to “Come back whenever, Spider. On the house, next time.”

“Never on the house, Hoa.”

Her annoyed grumbles fades the farther away you walked. Skipping a bit as you pulled out the food, crisp bread with all the fillings you loved making the first bite look heavenly. You had the urge right then to pull up your mask in front of every flashing camera just to taste that home made bread.

You sighed your compliments instead.

“She never misses.”

“Who never misses?”

You startled at the civilian that had approached you, his tall stature and spiky nature making him stand out so much you wonder how you hadn’t noticed him.

Maybe your spider senses were distracted with your food.

“Oh— uh..,” You sucked your teeth for a second, eyes darting curiously around, wondering why he wasn’t just like the other civilian. Taking photos and videos of you as you walked past — ever fascinated by the new “Hero” around. You would barely call yourself that, but it’s what the people deemed you.

“My.. Friend.”

The man bent down by the waist, hands behind his back as he started walking with you.

“Name’s Hobie. Guessin’ your ‘friend’ made tha’ sweet lookin’ sandwich, mm?”

“Mm.. She uh— Oh, I’m —!..” You paused, tripping over your feet and scuffing your shoes. You cringed under the mask, stuffing the food back into your bag.

“..Spiderwoman.. She makes good food. Yup.”

Hobie snorted at how quick you were about to reveal your identity to who you assumed to be some confident civilian.

You awkwardly walked with him, every now and again glancing longingly at your sub as he leisured in his pace. Taking his sweet time walking who knows where whilst you begrudgingly accompanied the stranger — or not stranger. Acquaintance.

“Ya’ real confident for a Spidey.” Hobies’ sarcastic voice drawled, sniffing and scrunching his eyebrows before his face relaxed into a teasing smile again.

You side glanced him, otherwise focused on trying to leave the conversation. “Well considering there’s only three — two, of us.” You giggled nervously, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Rest in peace, Spidey-1.” You — somewhat — joked.

Hobie let out a snort and choked on his breath, laughing at your awkward nature.

No wonder Miguel hadn’t let anyone even mention your lack of inclusion to the Spider-force.

Not after the first day of trying to convince you, anyhow.

It would have been utterly humiliating to be bested by someone who couldn’t hold a conversation for the life of her.

Hobie had a lot of respect for you, right off the bat. He knew the moment that Miguel (and Jess) had come back from Miles’ universe — pissed off and *alone — that you hadn’t been persuaded. And considering Jess and Miguel had a rather unique skill with their convincing, feeding off vulnerabilities in younger Spider-people to be the lack of parental figure in their lives, or elder — to have relatability in their pains. It wasn’t technically ill intended, but Hobie thinks it’s more than a little manipulative.

So to have you — someone he’s seen is vulnerable, hurting, easy; not fall victim to the duos tactics, and actively *berate them for it.

He was well awed.

And his brotherly instincts kicked in terribly fast. He thinks he sees a lot of himself in you. Awkward and growing into yourself, struggling against the high standards you were held to as a spider. And fighting from that box people tried to put you in.

So yeah, well awed would be an understatement. Proud would be a criminal understatement.

So when he had been looking for Gwen, trying to show her some stupid thing Pavitr had sent him just to show her — and realised she was gone. He checked his watch, lo and behold, she was in your universe.

Meaning she was with Miles, who rather actively tried to steer you away from his spider drama. Right now, though? He was distracted.

And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He walked with you for a while longer, letting you both get comfortable in the silence of a stranger.

“This ain’t weird f’ you, mate?”

You had both ended up at some alleyway, filled with stalls of food and bustling people pausing in their tracks to stare at the oddly placed pair of Hero and “Random Punk?”

“Not quite. I’ve had weirder interaction with weirder guys.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, Guess ‘m not as weird as some villains.” The brit droned, dropping down to your height and eyeing the stalls as you passed, pocketing some things from stores he knew as bigger organisations.

“I was talking about regular people, but yeah those too.”

He laughed, grinning at your dry humour and nodded again, leaning into your view and smirking at your adjusting lenses.

You reached the stall you were looking for, the girl greeting you with a smiling “Hi, Spidergirl!”

Your eyes shrunk, “Spiderwoman, Spiderlady, Spider — and you chose the most demeaning.”

“Well, you are built rather girl like, young and spry and — oh, is that Hoa’s Bahn Mi?”

You nodded enthusiastically at Avanti, dropping your hand into the bag and pulling out a cookie you’d saved for her.

Hobie watched the interaction from stood behind you. Slipping in a “You had a spare cookie this entire time?”

You snorted and Avanti handed you a peach ice tea and a couple of her home-made desserts in a Spider-man themed lunch box. A note reading “Got this just for you — brin bring it back!!” placed on top, you glanced up, putting the lunch box in your bag as you did so and thanked her before you and Hobie were off again. “Seriously, the whole walk. No cookie.”

You laughed at his pouting tone, “I’ll get you one, next time, big man.”

He draped his arm over your shoulder, leaning some weight on you and started talking about random things he could think about during the trip back to your apartment.

You’d grown to enjoy his company, the older man — and his lack of filter — being oddly entertaining. You quipped, and he quipped back. Not enough for you to really trust him seeing your apartment, but enough that you set the boundary on your block.

“Hey Hobes, this has been a really good talk—,”

“Gotta ge’ back to ya’ Spiderin’, aye?”

You smiled up at him, lenses sliding into a pleased expression. “Yeah, real difficult stuff y’know? Saving the city and all that.”

He nodded along with you, right as his funky watch (that did not at all match his outfit, but looked to be bedazzled with a series of metal spikes) beeped. He brought his arm up and checked the small screen, face morphing into one of annoyance. “Aye’. Right timin’ mate, cause I just got a call from HQ.”

“Ahh.. Big cooperation?”

“Not in a million years, brutha’. More like a socie’y.”

He looked up at you and grinned. “Miguel really don’t like when I flake out on ‘im.”

You paused a second while Hobie fiddled with his watch, reaching into his back pocket while checking for anyone around. When he found no one, he slipped out his spiked mask and slid it on.

You stared, dumbfounded.

He clapped your shoulder again, scoffing amused at your wide-eyed expression.

“Was this —“

“A ploy f’ you ta’ join the Spider socie’y? Not a’ all, mate.” He sniffed, itching his head through his mask and squeezing your shoulder.

“I right respect ya’ f’ not joinin’. Wish I woulda’ had ya’ will at my age.”

“Oh… Thanks…”

He nodded at you, Lenses squinting.

“Yeah but, I gotta dip, Gwen’s not distractin’ Miguel with sneakin’ off no more. He pro’bly realised I was gone too.”

“Yuh huh…”

“Bye, [Name].”

You blanched one last time before he shot a web onto your neighbouring apartment building, opened a portal mid-air, and flung himself through.

“What the fuck..” You whispered to yourself, perplexed at the interaction that had just occurred.

“What the hell.”

—

It was two hours later, when you were full of Bahn Mi, Pastries and Ice Tea, rethinking everything he’d said; when his last words caught up to you.

Gwen’s out of this universe. Not in the figurative sense — Although she is everything everyone wants to be, but you’re gonna ignore that — So where the hell was Miles?

It was late now, Moon shining a casted light through your living room drapes just as the Sun had onto your bed hours prior.

You gradually dragged yourself from your couch, reaching over your coffee table with great effort to reach your charging phone.

You huffed, giving up and snatching your web slinger from the floor by your feet and shot a web to grab your phone, tugging it off the charger. The thicker part yanked out the wall instead, landing hard on your torso with a dull thump. You scrunched your face up and grumbled, cursing at the thing while you pull your phone off the now useless charger and throw it on the floor.

“Fuckin’ asshole…”

You flipped your phone, eyes widening when your lock screen lit up with a series of notifications. All getting progressively worse. Your spider-senses growing in alert.

miles (o O) 7:42 PM

haiiii

gwen left

u should’ve hung w us

haha

get it \(^ W ^ )\

hung

cause spider

i’m comigg to home now

yoii r home

soffy swinginf

waiiiiiiiiiixixiiixkm jjj fd

bab guy ine secon

The messages abruptly stopped, being replaced entirely by a series of calls. Some left voice messages, some not.

You clicked on a recorded voice message.

(miles (o O) Left a Message at 7:46 PM.)

“Hey, [Name]!” Miles’ cheery voice rang out through the speakers, bringing a lovesick smile to your face despite the off feeling you had in your chest.

“Just gonna — Oof, hey man! Not cool. — Gonna take care of this guy before—,” A pause and a grunt. “,—Before I come home to you, yeah? Pick up soon I wanna know what you’re doin’.” A begrudged shout sounded far from the speaker. “Are you on call right now?”

“It’s important!”

“We’re fighting!”

“I have a life loser—“ Three harsh beeps rung out, signalling the end of the voicemail.

You clicked on a few more, just quick tidbits of him complaining you not picking up, and fighting an unknown villain. Also complaining how he missed you and “This guys is not goin’ down!” He shouted louder; “C’mon man! I have somewhere to be!” “Suck my dick Spiderman!” “Woah—! Well don’t get angry now, asshole!”

“Hypocrite!”

“Am not!”

“Are too—“ Three beeps.

You clicked again.

“[Name], Please pick up! This guy can— Fuck! — You dickhead!” A beat played and a cough was heard. Your frown deepened.

“I’m at the—“ Cut off.

You checked for another voicemail, one continue the one left off. A worried scrunch in your nose. There wasn’t one.

Right as you were going to call him back, his profile photo popped up again, you pressed answer with a lip between your teeth.

“Miles?” laboured breathing came through the speakers, wet gasps and sniffled coughs every now and again. He was silent for a full minute before answering you.

“Hey, [Name]..” His voice was gravelling and deep, sandpaper against softened lips.

He sounded tired, and your heart rate picked up in fear, almost like he could hear it. “Fuck..,” He whispered into the phone, groaning. Holding the phone loosely on his end, as apposed to the anxious grip you had on on yours.

“I’m.. Stuck in some construction site.” He gasped. “Miles what the hell—!”

“Mi Vida, please. The guys not—“ A loud crash made the speaker in your phone crackle. A whispered “Shit.”, before he hung up.

You wanted to call back, but from his whispering, and panicked tone, you could only guess he was trying to hide.

Whoever this villain was, they weren’t giving up.

—

You followed his tracker, the location he was pinged at getting closer by the second. You breathed hard against the force of wind, dropping down into a run on where the location was set to be.

“Fuck, fuck— Miles where are you?..”

Your footsteps were light, crouching under concrete slabs and tip toeing around loose gravel. Red light was cast along unfinished floors and crumbling walls. Shadows reaching towards you from the corners of your eyes. Your spider senses were on high alert, at a constant buzz. They suddenly upt in pitch and you flinched around, almost screaming at the hand covering your mouth. Pressed harsh against your face, and another around the back of your head so you couldn’t escape. Your hands gripped the wrists of the stranger before you heard an incessant shushing.

“Conejita, quiet.”

You relaxed instantly, the eyes of your mask downturned in fearful stress.

His hands were shaking against your head, figure hunched and body scratched up. The tears in his suit spanning across his right shoulder and chest. He slowly removed his hands, bringing a lone finger to where his lips would be in his mask in a ‘hush hush’ manner.

Coming in closer to you, leaning down to where your ear would be and whispering “He’s still here.”

You grabbed his forearms, leading him deeper into the site, away from the reddened lights and into the creeping shadows.

He breathed heavy behind you, throat wet with his own blood, he grunted and tried to help you in walking with him, good arm thrown over your shoulder as you dragged him. “C’mon, just a little farther.”

“What’re you…” He cut himself off, heaving. You set him down in the quiet corner, tucked behind two large concrete sheets and some large bent up pipes.

“Just—, sit here Miles, okay?” You brought his head up to yours, still talking in a quietened voice. Hands on his face and crouched in front of his slumping form.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stood from crouching, hands slipping off his face while he dragged forward to stay in your grasp — mumbling something like a plea for you to stay.

You turned from him, dashing away in silent movements, slinging yourself up onto high ground and turning back to make sure he wasn’t visible unless you truly looked — he wasn’t.

You lept off, disappearing from his sight with a yank against your webs.

He mumbled, shifting closer in your direction as the exhaustion hit him. Huffing, he leant back. Letting his head hit the wall and focus on keeping his eyes open.

"Quédate despierto.. No te muevas..."

“Stay awake.. Don’t move…”

He heaved again, the heaviness in his chest deepening.

“Stay…” He closed his eyes — for just a second, just for the relief — Dragging his hand up to rip the mask off of him, and forcing himself to open them again, to watch the Moon.

“Awake.”

—

You creep around corners, listening in and honing your senses to a point. For anything, a trip, a movement. A breath.

You whipped your head to the left, following the sound of light breathing.

“Come out little bunny.”

You tensed, he’d heard you.

“Ah, don’t worry, honey—,” You heard him creep forward, closer to you. He didn’t know where you were, obvious by the hesitance in his steps, but he had the right direction. You can move now, he would hear. And with how he’d heard Miles’ mere whisper before, you suggest maybe he had an ability similar to your own. “,Not him I want, anyways.”

That made your shoulders loosen a little, but you never rested. Who knows whether he was lying or not.

You shot a web, hitting the pipe of your aim and jumping from one to another, using your webs to steady yourself. You heard him huff a laugh.

“I heard that.”

Your eyes slanted, crouching into a spidered position. You crawled, using the stick of your fingers to steady across the pipe, sticking to it and trying to find the mystery man in the sea of red the warning lights casted.

Your spidey-senses went haywire and you jumped from the pipe in less than a second. Right as you did, a bang went off and you stumbled forward, landing in rubble and groaning. Rolling before you steadied yourself and jumped up. No rest until your opponent is resting in Death.

You finally saw him. What looked to be some guy in a green fuzzy suit.

“My girl..”

“Wha— *Are you a furry?”

He groaned, and charged for you, right hand outstretched and left in a clenched fist. He swung for your head, twisting his body as he did. You shot a web on his abdomen, pulling him towards you and jumping to slip under his arm, using his prior speed to throw him into a block of concrete, just missing a pole from stabbing him through the chest. He glanced at for a moment and grabbed his head — which had taken quite the hit.

“Seriously what type of Grinch cosplay is this?”

He growled again, like a man with rabies.

“C’mon dollface, don’t fight me here.”

“You hit first, asshole — Also what the fuck, i’m not your ‘doll’.” He shot for you again, throwing a bomb behind you to throw your body forward, you tried to grapple for stability, webbing to anything in reach. But he gripped your waist and held you against him.

“[Name]…”

You froze, body wanting to gag and shed your own skin at the same time.

You swung for his jaw, knocking him clean off you with a disgusted hand.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

He held his jaw and you stumbled farther from him. Hands held beside you, ready to attack if needed.

He grinned at you, blood seeping onto the green fur of his face, you felt sick.

“Oh, come on, babyface.” His jenky voice was digging into your skin, peeling it up and stabbing into your muscle. Twitching into your flesh and making your body hurt, making you hurt.

You ripped your mask up and hurled, spitting nothing but bile onto the ground below you, the burn of stomach acid sitting heavy in your throat and you felt like crying. Your breath heavy and gasps painful.

“What the fuck.”

—

You smiled at your professor. Waving back at him from the other side of the lecture hall. Miles come up behind you and hooked his arm around your shoulder, swaying against you as he chatted with you about anything that had happened in the time he hadn’t seen you. You snorted, chatting back — Forgetting completely about the other Miles.

You dropped your shoulder and your Miles stumbled, grumbling up at you before you gripped his forearm and dragged him to sit with you at the back of the hall. His mood changing in an instant as he followed along like a lost puppy, gawking at you with a dopey smile plastered across his face. His canines exposed, charming and boyish. How he always is. You sat him down, and sat next to you, and he dragged your chair a little closer, grabbing you leg and placing it over his.

He started laughing again at the eye roll you gave him, and you cracked — smiling and giggling with him.

What you hadn’t seen, was the glare settled on the two of you. The way Warrens previous smile had dropped into a snarling frown, hands gripping the pencil he had been holding in a death grip. He jumped at the sound of a crack, the pencil had snapped in his hands and he got even more pissed, about to scream at the *other Miles to get away from you. To get his hand off you.

That kid didn’t deserve you like he did.

You loved him like he loved you, he knew it.

You had too.

He watched you laugh and his heart fluttered, angry at who you were laughing for but still — you were so pretty.

You wouldn’t be laughing like that if he wasn’t here. You loved him.

—

“Mr. Warren?”

“How many times have I told you to call me Miles?” He slipped out of his own head, breaking from the stare he had on you.

You laughed sweetly, eyes shining. “How many times have I told you I already *have a Miles?”

He watched your smirk as you quipped back at him, a jealousy brimming in his chest. He chuckled, a heartless sound to no one but himself.

“Ahh, How many times am I going to forget?” He tapped his pencil on his desk and tried to focus on you instead. He watched you go back to your work, so intelligent, mature.

You shaded in the answer on the sleek sheet. You were right, of course.

A hair fell from behind your ears and he wanted to tuck it back, wanted to give you straight A’s for nothing despite knowing you would get them anyways.

You threaded you hand through your hair and if he wasn’t focused on how beautiful you were — maybe he’d be disappointed it wasn’t his own.

He watched you, forgetting the papers he was grading — he was focused on something else, now.

—

He was standing when you turned back. Hunching over his injuries and staggering towards you.

“Mr. Warren?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You gagged again, and he looked sad at the act.

“Please, baby—“ He stretched out his right hand, pleading with you.

“,—I know you love me too. I know that fucking Spider is taking you from me.”

He stepped closer.

“I know it.”

You stumbled back farther, wiping the spit from you lips and pulling your mask down, you went to shoot a web, to get away. But he was on you before you could, the hand not outstretched revealing a cloth covering his palm. Sodden and dripping a clear liquid.

He gripped your suit and dragged you forward, shoving the cloth closer to your face.

“Stop fucking resisting.”

“Get off!”

You gripped his forearm and bent it back, far enough you heard a snap. He yelped out. The sweet smelling cloth dropped from his hand and his other lost grip on your shirt. Taking the opportunity you dropped down, crouching on one leg and using the other to swipe the things legs from under him.

You watched him fall and grabbed the cloth. Hearing his pained groans as he tried to scramble up again.

You kicked a leg over him, straddling his chest and bringing your free hand back — swinging down on him with anguished cries.

He tried to raise his hands, you pinned them down in his own chloroform ridden cloth. He called your name, endearments that made you skin crawl. Tried kicking you off as his body grew weaker. Pleading with you, using his remaining strength to yank at his own arms.

He wrestled against your hits, face bloodied and nose broken. You hit again, watching his disgusting face whip to the side, blood leaking from his mouth as a tooth went flying.

Tears breached the edge of your eyes, frustration of every kind tearing your skin anew, your knuckles pouring the hurt you felt. Blood mixing in a sickening spill of feelings, an obsessive love — something cruel and harsh. And the injuries you’d sustained from it, equally as such cruel.

You’d spent *months trying for a man in love with someone else. And this man you had confided in, who had been a mentor in your trivialities — had taken advantage of that, of you.

He disgusted you.

You kept swinging.

—

Miles jerked awake, gripping the hands that were on his shoulders in an instant, the figure flinching back at his strength.

“Miles! Just me—,” He opened his eyes further, pain ringing through his body as he loosened in your hold.

“Just you.”

He took your appearance in, the blood coating your suit, that hadn’t seemed to be your own. The thick liquid shining on your hands and forearms, crudely splashed onto your mask — like something out of a horror film.

He reached up slowly, pulling off you mask with great effort. His own sitting next to him. You were on your knees before him, bathing in red so deep it could have been mistaken for black against the reddened light. He groaned when you touched his chest, coughing a little at the pain.

“Sorry! Sorry — I’m so sorry.” You quickly retracted your hand and gasped. Apologising through near tears. He wet his lips, watching your tear lined eyes in worry.

“Hey— Conejita, what— what happened?”

Letting his hands rest on your cheeks, carbon fibre wiping at soft skin.

You sobbed, gripping his wrists and moving his weak hands closer to you. His brows furrowed further.

“I don’t — I don’t know, he —,”

You breathed fast against his palms, crying to him. Miles straightened himself up, ignoring the pains shooting up his body and trying to comfort you, shushing your cries and cradling your face.

“Mr. Warren he was —“

Miles’ eyes widened, finally letting the familiarity in his voice click. That was who it was, who was so mad at him, disgusted by the Spider.

Miles shuddered, thinking back to the off feeling he’d always had around the older man.

How he was always around you.

“What did he do.”

His eyes darkened and you cried harder, Miles had completely forgotten about his wounds, shifting to get up and find the fucking bastard.

You gripped him tighter, “Miles. He’s not —,”

“Where is he.”

“Dead.”

His breath escaped him, the blood made sense now. He got closer to you and slid his hand around your head, pushing your face into his good shoulder.

You cried again, shaking form cradled against his own weakened body.

“Shh, Mami. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“We’re alright, I promise.”

He hugged you closer, pressing a haste kiss to your forehead.

“You’re safe.”

—

You helped him home, having to hold him up and swing at the same time, which wasn’t much as a hassle as you thought it would be.

You both sat on your couch, him lying down with you sitting on his thighs.

He watched you work, suit and mask discarded somewhere in your living room and clad only in a pair of loose joggers you had found for him.

Your face was pinched into a frown, eyes still puffed from crying and a brows scrunched unpleasantly.

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not.” He threw his head back, rolling his eyes at your complaining.

“See? Moving.” You poked his chest and he winced.

“Okay! Okay— Damn, chica.”

You smiled at his tone, a small, timid thing. And he pushed down the fluttering in his stomach.

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

“Lucky? Havin’ you here longer would make me lucky.”

You grumbled, pouting at him angrily. “You want stitches, big boy?”

“You gonna stay on top of me?”

“No, but i’ll make it hurt real nice.”

He snorted, shifting to look at you better.

“Then, nah.”

You kept at your work, patting him with antiseptics and making him hold an ice pack across the forming bruises.

And he admired you, the streaks of light from the window falling against your face. A city ridden with crime making you so, so pretty.

“Why’d you come for me?”

You gave him a curious look but continued to patch him up. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”

He sniffled, averting his gaze. “I dunno I just— didn’t expect you to show up.”

You shook your head a little, understanding his fears.

“I’d always show for you, Miles.”

He hummed, flustered at the thought.

You moved up to his face, gently patting away blood with a warm hand towel, your other hand holding his face towards you. Fingertips brushing his cheeks in a hold so caring he might’ve fainted if it wasn’t you holding him. He’d stay awake for you this time. He’d protect you this time.

“I love you.”

You froze, towel stuck in the air and your eyes locked onto his.

Miles held his breath, waiting for your reply as he watched you clock the words.

His nerves got to him quick, spouting out whatever he could in your silence.

"Estaba hablando con Gwen y me ayudó a darme cuenta, ¿sabes? No paraba de decir que estaba enfermo de amor, yo no lo entendía y pensé que quizás debería..."

“I was just talking with Gwen and she helped me realise, you know? Kept saying I was lovesick and I didnt get it and I just thought maybe I should—“

“I love you too.”

He snapped his gaze back to you. Hope colouring his eyes a sparkling gold.

“You do?” He whispered, an intimacy running through his bloodstream. Heart pumping too fast in haste of the pure admiration he held for you.

You nodded, and your hands splayed out further, cradling the edge of his lips.

“I do.”

He tried to sit up, abs clenching under effort to get closer to you, you let him drag you forward. He ditched the ice pack and settled his hands on the crest of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your hips.

“Say it again?”

He whined, begging you. He wanted, needed to hear you say it again.

“I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forehead pressing against your own. You followed.

The things he felt for you were too much, too much. His chest was heaving again, but not from pain. This was love he hadn’t experienced before, this was anything but painful.

"Dios, también te amo."

“God, I love you too.”

Your hands slipped from his lips to the back of his neck, scratching gently along his nape and he shivered.

“Let me kiss you? Please?”

He whispered again, voice cracking. Chapped lips brushing against your own softer ones in a featherlight touch. He was holding off, not letting himself the pleasure without you wanting him back — he wanted to know you wanted him back.

“Please.” You were sure, certain — and it was all he needed.

He kissed you sweetly, letting himself indulge in you without restraint.

He hadn’t known what he’d been missing out on — but now he does. Know he knows. And god, if he hadn’t felt more full in his entire life.

Everything had been bland compared to you, had been bitter and dull against the sweetness of your lips. Smooth against rough skin and he’d never felt something so soft before. His hands gripped you harder for just a moment and you pulled back merely an inch to catch your breath. He opened his eyes and watched your lips sparkle in the same light he’d admired minutes before.

“I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he pulled you ever closer. “I know, Miles.”

—

“I fuckin’ told ya’, mate.”

“Wh— I never said otherwise!”

“Yeah but ya’ neva’ agreed either, aye?”

“I never disagreed.”

“Pff, whateva.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, scoffing at the brit next to her with a smile on her face.

They watched you both as Miles nervously introduced you to Peter. A sort of Spider-convention was set up. And the invite was — begrudgingly — extended to you.

“They’re cute, though.”

“Bloody oath.”

You offered the older man with a warmed gaze, turning to the kid in his arms and cooing. He smiled at you, being one of your favourite spiders had its perks.

He was one of the only ones who never tried to make you join the society, so he got a pass from you.

Miles held your hand and smiled, chatting with Peter excitedly once he realised the lack of tension.

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Do I—,” You looked up at him hopefully. “Yes! Uh— Yeah. Yes please.”

You dropped Miles’ hand and he pouted, watching you take the baby from Peters arms, the early father fretting as you waved him off, insuring him you knew how to care for a child.

Peter relaxed and stood next to Miles as you rocked his baby gently. A rather fond feeling overtaking them both — leading Peter to take a photo of you with his kid, and Miles to shyly ask him to send it to him.

The look of you with a kid? It was way too early in life for baby fever.

He huffed when he heard people making kissy noises behind him. You too preoccupied with entertaining the kid to realise it.

He turned to the trio of teens behind him and flipped them off. Pavitr gasped offendedly at him and Hobie and Gwen laughed, causing Miles to roll his eyes and snort.

“Assholes.”

You gently passed MayDay back to Peter and gave a quick kiss to her head. Peter going off to get her a bottle.

Miles came up next to you and you smiled at him, watching the skyline from the buildings rooftop.

“[Name].”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at the voice behind you.

Way to ruin a moment.

“Miguel.”

You turned to him, Miles cringing quickly as he turned with you.

“Hey— Miguel! Crazy seein’ you here, haha! Insane.” Miles nervously laughed, his voice deepening on the last word and you coughed a laugh, agreeing with him.

“Uhuh, crazy.” A sly smile adorned your features and you grabbed his hand again, interlocking your fingers in a foxy movement.

“You weren’t invited.”

“Huh? Of course I wasn’t!—“ Your smirk grew bigger. “—I’m a plus one.”

He glared down at you and it only felt all the more justifiable, he opened his mouth to talk before Peter was dancing over with MayDay held out.

“Here take this, thanks!”

He quickly handed her off to Miguel and spun him around by his shoulders, continuing to walk with him in the other direction. “She needs a sleep. Rock her to sleep.”

“Wh—“

“Rock her.”

—

Miles gripped your hips, swaying gently with you to the soft music playing in your kitchen. Your Ma had left two weeks prior for a month long work trip, and he couldn’t stay away. The domesticity he had built with you reaching an all time high as he watched you cook.

He rested his head on your shoulder and you both continued to sway a little. Moving his hands past your hips to lean his hands on the bench you cut your food on, caging you in slightly. You hummed, reaching for a tomato and placing it on the board.

“I love you.”

You giggled — a sweet, girlish thing.

“Love you too, baby.”

“Love you more.” He smiled against your shoulder.

“Pfft, yeah okay, big boy.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, and his heart fluttered again.

—

GOD DAMN AS ALWAYS WAY OFF THE RAILS

lovely translator @sataraxia

(literally my bf the delusions are getting worse he’s my bf guys!!! ⬇️)

[heartfullofleeches]

not to be crazy but i think the first time his darling called him “husband” during sex clover came immediately and then spent like 20 min crying about it

[suggestive/very light smut, minors begone]

"Clover - you coming to bed soon?"

"In a moment, dear. Just finishing up."

The magician waits for the settle of the bed as you lay back down before snipping the excess string of the stitching over his heart, picking up a roll of bandages as he places the medical scissors in hand on the counter. He wraps the gauze around his torso twice over with a third binding for good measure. It really was a hassle, more nights than before now considering he had a lover. Nothing Clover had tried was able to seal the wound. Stitches of various patterns, patches and whatever cut of cloth deemed viable- all bled through by that eternal infliction within his heart. The only functional stopper was the dagger that had done him in. The ghastly sight disgusted him before, but now it only reminds him of how times had changed for the better.

Though his heart had been torn to shreds in the physical sense, it and his broken soul had been mended by the simple comfort of another to share his bed with. Clover wipes at the mirror, staring deeply at his reflection. A man once without a love now a beast with so much he'd die for good at its lost. How could such a face catch the eye of someone as magnificent as you?

Somwhere, his ears catch the faint rustle of fabric. Clover's eyes dart to the bathroom door as an article of clothing hits the tile.

"What a spacious bed. If only I had a certain rabbit to take up some of the room."

"Ah - I'll be there shortly, my love." Clover gathers up his supplies and crams them into the medicine cabinet before dropping to pick up the fallen cloth. His face burns red; fur frizzled as he smoothes the soft fabric in his hands realizing it to be your underwear. The rabbit hops to his feet, flicking off the bathroom light as he barrels into the bedroom. You sit up as he makes his way over to the bed, pressed back against the headboard as his lips meet yours - fingers gripping the hip of your night shirt.

You giggle, roused to laughter by his fluff as he kisses at your neck. "If I had known this was going to be your reaction, I would've done that sooner."

Clover freezes like a deer in headlines; ears twitching with a nervous tic. "I.. I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long? A-am I going too fast? This is all so new and I suppose all the excitement just makes me a little..."

Clover yelps as you bring your hands up to his face. " I'm just messing with you. There's no rush, Clover so just take it easy."

The rabbit melts as your warm thumb strokes over his cheek. How serene every waking second with you was. His ever present fears and anxieties washes right away spending mere seconds in your arms. Clover sighs, placing a palm over your left - tracing the cold metal wrapped around your finger.

"I'm aware, it's just... being with you is such a wonderful experience, Angel. I'd hate for there to be any reason you didn't feel the same."

"If I didn't, I probably wouldn't be sitting here half naked in your bed. Now, you gonna kiss me again or -"

You didn't need to tell Clover thrice. Clover kisses you, gently lowering his weight atop you as he supports your back with one hand. You help undo his belt as he rolls your shirt up to your chest, marveling at your breathtaking image through lidded eyes. He could never find himself getting used to the sight - falling in love all over again everytime you give him more to behold.

Clover whines into your chest, squeezing the back of your neck as he presses in deep. He fancied himself the type to treat his love as the treasure they were, but finally having you in his grasp he couldn't control himself. He swore another night he'd give you everything you do deserved. A dreamy smile spreads across his face your fingers lock together. You weren't technically wed just yet, but how he heart leapt being able to claim you as his spouse now. In the dead of night, the word slipped from his lips as you held each other dear. It was magical.

Clover rocks into you slow, cherishing the heat your body gives as he imagines the night of your official commune. Holding you - like this, hours after your vows of everlasting devotion. He'd lean in, whispering ever so softly. "What has someone like I done to desire a spouse as wonderful as you?'

Clover flushes. He didn't mean to say that aloud. To his surprise, you lock your arms around his neck sporting a dazed smile of your own - stealing his heart for the billionth time as you speak.

"Dunno. What did I do to get such a loving husband?"

"H-husband?..." His ears fall flat; a whimper caught in his throat as tears cloud his vision. Your husband - him. It was too much to bare. An angel, his dear gift from above - choosing him of all beings. His spouse to have, to love, to...

"F-uck..." Clover pants, gripping the sheets as he bottoms out inside you, spilling deep as he buries himself in your warmth. He fucks lazily into you, energy spent - but determined to ride his high to completion. He shutters, pulling out as he picks his tired body off of you. The euphoria fades, and shame overtakes as his cum leaks out onto the satin sheets.

"Stars, I... I usually don't- I didn't mean to- I was going to pull out I just-"

Clover gasps - tearducts reaching compacity as he throws himself towards the end of the bed covering his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm an awful husband. I don't even deserve to be the one who can call you his spouse."

You shoot up from the mattress as he wails, throwing a comforting arm over his shoulder. "Clover - Clover, it's okay. Don't say that about yourself over something like this."

Clover wipes at his eyes. "But... but, I failed you as a husband...."

"No you didn't. You just got a little excited, that's all. I love you, Clover - and this doesn't change anything."

You press a kiss to his tear soaked fur as Clover brings his hands down to his chest. Moments like this remind him of one of the best things about being married. Loving your soul mate through faults and all. Yours only made you more perfect in his eyes. He wondered if it was the same for you.

Clover rubs his nose against your hand. "S-still... I feel bad. Is there anyway I can make this up to you?"

"There's nothing for you to make up for, but if you really want to..." His eyes widen as you guide his head between your thighs, throwing a leg over his shoulder. "I think here would be a good start."

Clover paws at your thighs, gripping them to pull you closer to his face as tongue licks at your sex and his release. Here was a much better placement for him and he prayed with all his tattered heart you'd be able to take all that he was so willing and eager to give.

[ilwonuu]

good for me. part one | two | three

♥︎ jeon wonwoo

ᝰ pairing- friend!wonwoo x reader

ᝰ summary- you going on a trip with your friends is something you’re beyond excited for. you can help but think of your friend in ways you shouldn’t. he’s so shy with you. you just want to ruin him. well not before he ruins you first.

ᝰ warnings- friends to lovers, wonwoo is in love with reader, reader is in LOVE with wonwoo, fluffy, they are in so much love( OKAY FUCK ALREADY), sweetheart!wonwoo, little bit of crack, oral( fem receiving), dirty talk (wonwoo) lmk what else

ᝰ a/n- last chapter is almost done probably later today!!!! I HOPE UR ENJOYING THE FICS!!!

you four arriving at the beach. mingyu and seokmin grabbing the stuff running to find a spot for the blanket. wonwoo waited for you always.” he wanted to kiss you so bad. “ready?”

he asked you as you got out of the car. you nod walking with him to mingyu and seokmin. he’s taking in your beauty. as always, wonwoo has accepted that he is probably in love with you.

you never leave his mind. this trip is getting so hard for him and it just started. “finally you slow pokes join us!! lets swim” mingyu says taking off his shirt. you and wonwoo both checking out the boy laughing a little when you realize wonwoo doing the same as you. before looking away. seokmin doing the same as mingyu running in. “you getting in wonwoo?”

you question he nods lifting his shirt over his head. you watch him gulping slowly. you can not think straight. pulling your shorts down your legs. he looks for a moment following you as you begin run into the water. “hey! slow down-“ he falls into the water after you. causing you laugh. he’s very close to you.

looking at you softly. “you look really pretty y/n.” he confesses. sending another smile. “wonwoo- thank you.” you blush at his words. he just wants to kiss you. so tempted he votes against the thought. following over to seokmin and mingyu.

“we are gonna go find girls.. are you guys okay together?” seokmin asked. you nodded quickly. wonwoo knowing this was part of their plan. “okay we can meet at the house for dinner?” mingyu adds. “sounds good!” you smile waving them off. turning to wonwoo.

“just me and you nonu.” he smiles at the nickname. “we can do whatever you want to do today.” he says splashing you playfully. you laugh smiling back.

“well i know its lame but i already want to go inside- not right now but soon?” you ask him and he nods. mentally agreeing with you. after you two finish at the beach you head home asap.

you two both talking in the living room awfully close. “want to eat something?” he asks.(you want him.) “yes i can definitely eat.” you smile and he nods turning to the kitchen. “sandwiches sound good?” he is walking towards the kitchen to grab the stuff waiting for your approval. “yes that is perfect.”

you smile getting up to join him. “and of course i want to help you. let’s eat!” he is admiring you a little too much. catching himself staring at your lips. you two eating with eachother. it’s crazy how easy you can feel comfortable with wonwoo.

he is the best listener. you enjoy his company. now both wanting out of your bathing suits. “you can change first-“ he says hinting at giving you the room. “you can change with me- wonwoo- am i crazy?” hes shocked at your words. “not crazy- i want you- i have for a long time.” he is closer to you now. “can you kiss me wonwoo?” you blurt out. he groans at your question. pulling you into his lips. “want you to fuck me please wonwoo- please fuck me.” hes smiles at your words. “you want me to give it to you? god you don’t know how much i want you.” you moan pushing him back onto your bed. not caring about the door that you left wide open.

so your friends could see. making you clench around nothing. he tugs you underwear down your legs. “ let me have a taste? i need to know if you taste as good as you look shit-“ he looks up for your approval. “words princess need to hear it.” you moan his name. “please touch me do something please i n-need it p-please.”

he looks up at you licking you pussy pulling your legs wider. “take it baby- i know. you taste so good don’t run baby. just want to make you feel good.” you moan in approval. he drives back into eating you out.

the next morning is nice. waking up next to that handsome man. oh you wanted him more than anything. “good morning. you look beautiful.”

wonwoo smiles against you. you’re half asleep pulling him into a hug. he cuddles into you falling back asleep with you. a few hour later stirring awake as you feel him shifting. “wonwoo?”

you ask seeing him smiling down at you. “good morning. for real this time?” he chuckles at you. “can i give you a kiss?” he asks looking down at you. “please- wonwoo.” you moan as he pulls you into a sweet kiss.

“already so needy?” he smirks leaning to kiss you again. he looks at you door again. “if you be quiet i’ll help you baby.” you don’t say another word as you watch wonwoo’s shirt come off. you can’t get enough of this man. “wonwoo-“ you whisper out to him. grabbing a hold of him as you feel your legs being opened slightly. “shh i got you princess.”

you feel his words go straight to your cunt. that nickname coming from his mouth. he pulls you into another kiss. “wonwoo- what time is it?”

you ask remembering your plans at the perfect time. wonwoo checks the time seeing it’s almost time for your plans with your other friends. “we can continue this later princess?”

he smiles at you going to get ready for your brunch. you stay laying there looking down at the position he had you in. closing your legs- this boy is gonna be the death of you.

finishing your final touches for your brunch. heading to the car the join the rest of the boys. “you look pretty.” wonwoo says into your ear. “thank you.” you blush looking away from him. mingyu heading to the cafe you were going to.

[dkisms]

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough. 

      If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

      You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought. 

      Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky). 

      Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face. 

      Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

      Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.’ Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

      Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

      You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

      It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate. 

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

     As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match. 

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation. 

     Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group. 

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent. 

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.  

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.” 

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?” 

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane. 

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped. 

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started. 

     While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays. 

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.” 

“Night.” 

——///——

     You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless. 

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

     As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL. 

     Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums. 

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door. 

     You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off. 

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.” 

     You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?” 

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches. 

     At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

     The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order. 

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat. 

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

     The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage. 

     The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing. 

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.” 

     The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly. 

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy. 

     The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL. 

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy. 

      At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice. 

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up. 

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

      As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips. 

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

      Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

     A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman. 

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper. 

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

      Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

      You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin. 

     Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane. 

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began. 

      As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed. 

      The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

      The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

      The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks. 

      As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

      If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

      Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match. 

      You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year. 

      After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said. 

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

      Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

      For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

      Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

      You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again. 

     The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded. 

     Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs. 

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

 “Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased. 

      He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

      The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound. 

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

      The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

      The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead. 

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

      Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

     His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

 “Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

      The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

      He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you. 

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

     He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

      The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

      The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

      You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over. 

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!” 

      You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.

[twost3ps]

Hazbin Oc voiceclaims LETS GOO

Ok so I've been brewing a bit and have been kinda busy. I got one last exam coming up and then I'm FREEEEE but I wanted to push something simple out so I decided to do voice claims because that is somehow easy (not)

These are partially for the scott pilgrim au, it makes it a bit more immersive to me

Anywayyysss: Heres the video of the voices (it's 4.5 min I'm so sorry)

and if ur interested: let me break down whyyy :3 + small oc blip (I still don't really know how to chracterize them it's all over the place) they go in order of appearance

Micheal: Johnathan Groff

Micheal is pretty closed off and cold. His answers are cold and short, and he doesn't like wasting time. Working 24/7 is his way of ignoring everything bad that has ever happened to him, until recently. He's trying to go back to his roots and have some fun. B4, in Eden he was basically a fun loving party guy who liked to bend the rules, but since his brother's betrayal, he grew angry and to snuff it out he just worked super hard. Super straight laced. But after a while he's trying to be silly again, people find it weird though because it's just been so long.

Initially, I wanted something deep- like deep deep. And while true, Micheal could have a fitting deep voice-

I think Groff just fits really well. He hits all my boxes.

His voice is rich and smooth but has a bit of dorkiness to it?? (Kristoff) The closest thing I can go into describing my Micheal is, again, an ex frat boy that caught depression when things got too real but now is recovering and healing. Idk Groff's voice just gave the vibe. His voice is kinda similar to Jordan's (Lucifur's va) imo, especially when they sing. Of cousre they're not gonna sound identical, but its like Emily and Charlie, it's just similar when they sing. Also Groff can pull off a rocker voice (the Bohemian Rapsody clip) and I need that. I want that rocker Micheal FEAFSEF

In general though, Groff has been my #1 option. Not just for my Micheal, but like, a lot of Micheals I've seen. I look at them and all I can hear is Groff soooo. Yeah. I also think that if Micheal were to be part of the actual series and be Lucifur's twin he'd be the kinda guy they're looking for. But yeah, hes always been #1 choice

Gabriel: Chris Fleming/Jshlatt

Gabriel balances out Micheal's colder demeanor. He's loud and a bit obnoxious about. But overall, this man is a goober. He's a man that can't keep a secret and keeps it real, a bit too real this man is way too honest. Won't shut up once you get him going especially when he's excited. It's bad when he peaks at one emotion because he goes all out. Overtime he's gotten better but still out af.

I wanted Gabriel to have some sort of gruffness. Some edge. Gabriel's thing is spreading the word of God and all but I can't think of him having a smooth voice. (I mean he yells all the time, how can he not???) I wanted something expressive, loud and gruff. A voice that you know does not stfu and does not hold back.

Fleming came to mind when I head him from bigtop burger (love that series) his voice is fun, low and gruff. Jshlatt was recommended by one of my friends when I showed them Gabriel. I was pretty unfamiliar with him b4 and when they showed me him my jaw dropped. His voice is what I kinda want it to be, just a bit higher. And the singing voice fits really well too :)

Raphael: James Earl Jones/Thurl Ravenscroft/Nat King Cole

Raphael is supposed to be this chill soft guy you can go to for comfort. He's like a marshmallow of a man and can be very empathetic. But underneath all that is a unit of a man who could throw you thousands of yards away.

I wanted something rich, deep and smooth. I had to ask my friend again with this one and we got Mufasa (James Earl Jones) Fits really well! So yes, smooth and soft, but an underlying tone of powerful. I also wanted his to have just a lot of bass to it. Something you could sleep to. Why Nat King Cole for the last option? I genuinely have no clue but it fit to me so I slapped it on this bad boy.

Azreal/Dumah: Steve Blum

Ok. Both of them are idiots. My version of them anyways. They fight a lot. I mean when you are suck together it’s bound to happen (They share one body but only one can take full control at one time- mostly Azreal because Dumah hates people. I’ll just show you guys one day. They can separate but only when they are given permission. Big fussy babies). They finish each other’s sentences a lot when talking. Azreal is the goofier brother who likes making jokes and Dumah is the more serious one. When retrieving souls Azreal is the one who takes it while Dumah judges. Dumah hates when people joke while on the job (he hates Azreal for this this) but he hates it even more when they go against God's word. Azreal could give less of a crap, he just finds reaping super fun.

Blum fit for me after watching Puppycat seeing his role as space outlaw. It shows his ability to be goofy but his other roles consist of also very serious characters which fits Dumah and Azreal pretty well. Blum has this crazy rasp about thing going on (is that what it is?) it makes him stand out which fits for the angels that deal with the dead. Makes you very awake imo. Idk there’s just something about it. While Azreal and Dumah share the same voice, Azreal is higher than Dumah’s. What I mean by that is (when looking at the audio clip from the video) when Blum’s voice is generally higher, that’s Azreal. When it’s pitches lower that’s Dumah. Dumah in general doesn’t speak much unlike Azreal- they’re what comes to mind when people think of introvert and extrovert lol

Sadly I couldn't find a sining voice for him :(

Eve: Lisa Hannigan

To me, Eve holds a lot of motherly energy. She's soft and kind, but she actually holds similar feelings to Adam about sinners. Don't get me wrong, she feels bad for their eternal punishment, but in the end, it's on them. Like, if she was presented with the hotel, she'd comply but try to take over it becoming this overbearing presence that would put you in your place without lifing a finger if you didn't fird her standard. If she'd hear one complain shed be like, "i know it sucks but really, you did this to yourself." But besides that, to everyone else, she's kind. In heaven, she's recluse, only really going to Adam for anything. Her punishment on earth did something to her, and unlike Adam, she does not like seeking comfort from others. Shes subtle about it, but you can easily tell by the vibes she gives off - they are STRONG (Idk about this over all this may change)

I feel like this is kinda a given. Then again it could be just me. I wanted Eve to have this soft motherly vibe. Like her voice is just barely above a whisper sometimes, but is still kinda deep. Blue diamond came to mind like immediately. There were other options like Esmeralda’s VA, especially the one from the musical, but I wanted to give Eve this sense of solemn, sort of driftyness and chill. Ngl her character really resonates with blue diamond so it kinda just fell into place. It’s in contrast to Adam’s sharper and more gruff voice, where he can hit more highs, she hits more lows.

Eve is literally Adam’s other half (and while in my au they aren’t in love anymore or maybe they were never in love at all idk, they were definitely soulmates who loved each other dearly)

Again, notes on the floor and everywhere. They thoughts are always super scatterbrained

But yeah that’s pretty much it! If you guys have any recommendations or suggestions yourself feel free to tell me I am welcome to anything!!!

[hrtsvivis]

ᡣ𐭩₊˚⊹ 𝑴𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

hwang hyunjin x fem idol!reader

summary: reader has a really big performance, fortunately her boyfriend and his friends are there for support and comfort

word count: 425

Y/N was waiting in the backstage, listening to the cheers of the fans excited for the group's appearance. All the members were nervous since this was their biggest performance. Thousands of people buzzed with excitement, their yelling echoing through the massive arena. The atmosphere really was a mix of focused determination and bubbling anxiety.

Your hands trembled slightly as you were adjusting your microphone. Tonight wasn't just any concert- it was your biggest one so far and your boyfriend and his bandmates were going to be there to watch your group. You wanted so bad to impress them and prove yourself knowing that they had taken out time out of their hectic schedule just to be here. You couldn't be more stressed right now.

Suddenly, you heard Hyunjin's voice. "Hey, you're going to do absolutely amazing. Don't worry so much and do your best " he said as he took you away from your thoughts and worries. You turned to look at him and smiled sweetly. His presence was so calming and his words definitely made you feel better. The life of an idol wasn't easy at all, but at least you had your biggest supporter. You and Hyunjin talked briefly, but then he had to go back to his friends as the concert was gonna start soon.

As the lights dimmed and the crowd became louder, you took a deep breath and started the concert with your group. Everything was going fine and everyone was feeling more relaxed now. The music was blasting as you and your bandmantes danced and singed, pouring your heart out. While waiting for the next song to start, you quickly scanned the crowd, searching for certain people. Finally spotting the familiar faces of Stray kids in the specific area they are, you smiled happily.

As the final song reached its end, you couldn't help but search the crowd for Hyunjin. He looked so happy and proud. This moment was just perfect. You and your members said thank you to the fans for coming and exited the stage. All of you hugged, finally finished the performance. Everyone did amazing and you couldn't be more proud. A few moments later you were enveloped in a loving hug by your boyfriend.

"You were incredible" he said, hugging you even tighter.

"The performance was perfect" one of the boys added as they had gone in the backstage with Hyunjin. You smiled and thanked them. This couldn't be more perfect. You knew that this night, this moment, was something you'd carry forever with you.

note: this is my first oneshot and i hope you like it. It's kinda short. Let me know what you think of it. (Also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes.)

© hrtsvivis — do not steal, edit, or repost my works.

[sellasstories]

SWEET

word count: 1.5k

pairing: paige bueckers x azzi fudd

⚠️warnings⚠️

hurt/comfort, angst, swearing

prompts:

paige is upset at her team and misses azzi

pazzi are each other’s person but haven’t figured out exactly what that means

title from the cigarettes after sex song (somewhat inspired)

Paige breathed a sigh of relief when the final buzzer sounded. It should’ve been a relatively easy game, but this season had been anything but easy so far and she hadn’t been taking anything for granted, especially since Azzi got hurt again.

Azzi…. through the photos, autographs, and media, Paige couldn’t help her mind from drifting back to her. Azzi, her rock, her person, her best friend… maybe that last one wasn’t quite right anymore. They hadn’t put a label on anything yet, but she didn’t think that the parameters of “best friends” quite explained what they were to each other.

All she knew was that Azzi should’ve been a part of the win, not laying in a hospital bed. She knew sitting there watching must’ve been killing Azzi as much as it was killing Paige to not have her on the floor.

The team was already chattering excitedly when she stepped onto the bus.

“There she is! P-SKIII!” cheered KK, trying to get her to join in on whatever silly dance her and Aubrey were doing.

“Thanks KK, but I’m too tired for all this. I think I’m gonna go pass out in the back if anyone needs me.” She ignored the confused looks of most of her teammates.

Aaliyah must have seen the look in her eyes because she spoke up suddenly. “You guys heard her, her back hurts from carrying your sorry asses with her 34 and 12!”

As everyone laughed, Paige shot Aaliyah a grateful look and went to sit down. After making sure that no one was paying any attention to her, she pulled out her phone and called Azzi, who picked up almost immediately.

“Congratulations! I watched the whole thing and I’m so proud of you guys!” Azzi’s excitement was painfully fake, even over the phone.

“Thanks,” Paige mumbled hollowly. “You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right?”

“I know, it’s just that you finally got a win and we really need those right now and I… didn’t wanna take away from that, I guess,” Azzi sighed. Her voice had lost all its prior enthusiasm.

Paige wasn’t prepared for how broken Azzi sounded. Despite her best efforts to blink them back, her eyes began to fill with tears. “Don’t worry about anything like that. It wasn’t a good win and we both know it. I guess I played fine, but where is the rest of this fucking team?”

Paige knew it was unfair, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying it. “Where are you, Az? I need you.”

The call lapsed into silence, Paige trying to stop the tears from leaking out of her eyes while, alone in a hospital bed, Azzi’s cheeks were already wet.

“No, Azzi, stop it. You’re not allowed to be crying right now,” Paige leaned her head against the bus window.

“How did you kno- whatever, you’re literally crying too, baby,” Azzi was quick to reply when she heard the tremor in the other girl’s voice. “I should be there for you, I don’t know why shit like this keeps happening.”

Paige gave up on wiping the tears now freely flowing down her face.

“I can’t have you crying because of me, I can’t. It’s just a game- well it’s not just a game but it’s also not your life. You shouldn’t have this — shouldn’t have my problems — on your mind as well! It’s not fair to you, it just isn’t.” She went silent, realizing she’d let slip more than she’d intended to.

“How can you even say that when you’ve cried over me more times than I can remember?” Azzi asked incredulously. “You’re right, Paige, it’s not just a game, it’s your whole life, and mine! It’s the reason I’m here right now, still fighting for a chance at one of the most important things in the world to me, to both of us.”

So many miles away, Paige’s broken sigh was a shot straight through Azzi’s heart.

“I’m tired, Azzi. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be… I miss you.” The last part was whispered like a confession, Paige seemingly still not sure if it was something that she could just say.

“I know, P. None of this is fair. I miss you too.” It came out easier for Azzi. She’d always been better at stuff like that.

Neither girl knew what to say after that, the only sounds on the call being soft breathing and faint sounds of rain hitting the bus’s windows.

“It’s raining here, like a lot. It’s kinda soothing if you close your eyes,” Paige broke the silence, her voice a bit rough.

Azzi wiped her eyes, squinting at the curtains drawn over the window in her room. “I think it’s raining here too,” she finally said.

Paige sat in silence as she listened to Azzi call for a nurse to come open her window.

“It is kinda nice, you’re right.” Azzi took a deep breath as the soft pattering of raindrops filled her ears.

“Can I say that I miss you again?” Paige asked after another long silence.

“You can say anything to me.” Azzi’s voice was suddenly groggy.

“It’s late. I think you should go to sleep. I’ll see you when I get back.” Paige couldn’t hide the fondness in her voice.

“No, I’ll stay up with you. I’m not even tired, I promise.” Azzi tried to argue despite the heaviness of her voice.

Paige waited a while before answering. “You know it’s gonna be another couple of hours. I don’t mind, I promise.” She mirrored Azzi’s words.

There was nothing but silence on the line.

“Hey, Az?” Getting no response, Paige listened for a few minutes before she hung up, Azzi’s peaceful deep breathing eventually coming through.

She looked ahead at her teammates still celebrating and decided she’d just try to get some sleep herself.

•••••

The light knocking on Azzi’s door blended with the sounds of the rain, not waking her up. “I can come back tomorrow, she should probably sleep,” Paige sighed, trying to hide how close she was to breaking down again.

“Are you sure? I think she’d want to see you,” The nurse looked confused. “She seemed quite adamant when she told me to let you in any time, no matter what.”

Paige was speechless. It wasn’t even all that surprising as she knew that she’d do the same for Azzi, but the confirmation of those feelings being reciprocated meant a lot more to Paige than she thought it would.

Seeing Paige’s indecision, the nurse placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just going to unlock the door for you, honey, and you can figure out what you want to do,” she said kindly. “You’re a great girlfriend, by the way,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

“We’re not-” Paige started to say automatically, trailing off when she realized that she liked other people thinking of her and Azzi that way.

After hesitating outside the door for another minute, Paige slowly turned the handle, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Azzi’s room was dark, the only light being the sliver coming in from the hallway. It illuminated her sleeping face, and she looked so peaceful that Paige almost left again, not wanting to disturb her at all.

Shutting the door, Paige was fumbling for the switch on a lamp in the corner of the room when she heard Azzi’s blankets rustle.

“…Paige?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes as Paige located the switch and light flooded the room.

“Hey, I’m here,” Paige said softly.

Azzi opened her arms and Paige crawled into her bed, neither of them minding that the size of it forced their bodies to be pressed against each other.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Azzi pressed her lips to the top of Paige’s head, her fingers combing through blonde hair.

Paige lifted her head to meet Azzi’s eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you were actually resting like you were supposed to be,” she smirked, dodging the other girl’s attempt to flick her forehead.

Azzi’s retort was cut off by Paige’s lips pressing against hers, both girls smiling into the kiss. They pulled apart, foreheads pressed together.

In the intimacy of their little bubble, Azzi allowed a confession to slip out. “I’m glad you came. It means a lot.” The words may not have been anything novel, but she could tell that Paige understood why she said them so solemnly.

“Azzi, I…” Paige swallowed, embarrassed, and buried her face in Azzi’s neck.

“I know you do, P,” Azzi reassured her with a soft smile. “Me too. You don’t have to say it.” She knew that Paige wasn’t ready, and that was okay. She was here in Azzi’s arms, and for now, that was more than enough.