#but hey when a middle schooler is more fun to hang out with than you? the time has come to pause and reflect

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

one nice thing about Webtoon is that although the audience is rotting their brains on gay romance content, they don't have the activist mindset that other fiction-based communities do. so I can read something "insensitive" in a Webtoon and think "oh man the author is gonna get torn to pieces in the comments for this," scroll down, and find not one single peep about it in the comments. they didn't even notice. they are not wired to seek the problematic. Tumblr? I don't even know her. love that.

#- HK #granted I think most Webtoon readers are middle schoolers judging by the EQ on display #but hey when a middle schooler is more fun to hang out with than you? the time has come to pause and reflect #Webtoons #x #just to clarify *I* am not reading gay romance content. I am reading normal stuff.

[toruro]

— ✧ the letter

i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l

tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough

fic playlist.

w/c. 26k

a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^

ENVELOPE

To: Xu Minghao

“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.

He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.

“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.

Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.

“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.

“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.

“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”

Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”

“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”

Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”

“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”

Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.

Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.

“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.

“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”

Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.

“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”

You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.

“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”

“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.

“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.

“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.

“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”

“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”

“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”

“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”

“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.

“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”

“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”

“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.

“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.

“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”

“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”

“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, “Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”

“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”

She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”

You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas  into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.

“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”

“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.

She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”

Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”

“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.

Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.

Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.

“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”

Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.

“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”

As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”

“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”

You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”

“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.

He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”

“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.

“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.

“Sprite!”

“Cola!”

“Cola!”

Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.

“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”

Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.

“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.

“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”

“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.

“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”

“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.

“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.

“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.

“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.

“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”

You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”

Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.

The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.

“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.

“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.

“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.

The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”

“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.

“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.

“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.

You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”

“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”

“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.

“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”

“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.

You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”

“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”

“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.

“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.

“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.

When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”

The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.

When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.

“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.

“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”

“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.

Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.

“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.

“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.

Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”

“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”

“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.

Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”

“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”

It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.

“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.

“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.

“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”

“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.

And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.

“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“August.”

“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.

Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”

“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.

The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”

Jun nods. “We applied together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.

“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.

“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.

You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.

The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.

You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.

You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.

And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.

“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.

“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”

“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”

“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.

Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.

“Are you seriously okay? You look—”

“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.

“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.

“Jun told me about Korea.”

“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.

Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.

You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.

You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’

You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.

“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.

As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.

“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”

The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.

You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.

You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Minghao, after all, was leaving.

But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.

Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.

Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.

Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”

You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.

Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.

It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.

You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.

Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.

Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.

“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”

“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.

You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.

DEAR MINGHAO

I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.

When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.

I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.

I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.

Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.

Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.

It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.

It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.

Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.

“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”

“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”

“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”

“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.

“Oh okay, yeah su—”

“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.

The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.

“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.

“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.

“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.

When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.

“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.

“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.

He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.

“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.

“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.

“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.

“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”

“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.

“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.

The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.

Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.

You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.

And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.

Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.

When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.

“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.

“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.

His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?

You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.

You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”

“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”

“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.

“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”

“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”

Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.

“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.

“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.

“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.

As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”

“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.

“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.

“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.

Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”

“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”

“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.

“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”

“You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”

You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.

“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”

“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”

“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.

“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.

“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”

Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.

“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour—we hardly talked then.”

“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.

“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”

“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.

“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.

“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”

“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.

You give him a funny look. “What?”

“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”

“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”

“No! At least not without telling me!”

You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”

Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.

You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.

“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.

“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.

He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.

“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”

“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”

You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”

“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.

A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.

The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.

You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.

Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.

You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.

“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.

One ring. Maybe he’s busy.

Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.

Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.

Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”

Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”

“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”

“Send me your location.”

Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.

Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.

Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”

“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”

His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.

“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.

“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.

“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”

You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.

“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.

“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.

It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.

Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.

“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”

“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”

You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.

“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”

You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.

You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.

“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.

“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.

“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”

Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”

“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”

Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”

“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”

“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.

“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.

“You remember what I said?”

You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”

“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”

Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.

Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.

As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.

“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.

“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.

“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.

By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.

“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”

You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.

Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.

“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.

“I would, but I left my phone inside.”

“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.

When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.

“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.

“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”

Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.

And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.

“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.

Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”

“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit  your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.

“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.

“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.

You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.

It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.

“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.

“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“He sent me the video.”

“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.

“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”

You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.

Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.

You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.

The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.

So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.

He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.

With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.

Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.

Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.

It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.

“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”

“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.

“Are they those cupcakes?”

“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.

“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.

“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.

“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”

“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”

Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.

“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.

“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.

“Can you take some more candid ones?”

“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.

“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.

Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.

That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.

It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.

You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.

Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.

i’m a weirdo

Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:

ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!

As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.

i wonder who took these pics lol

No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.

imagine it’s his gf

You laugh to yourself. You wish.

The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.

The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.

It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.

You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.

As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”

“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.

“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.

“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..

“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.

A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”

“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”

“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.

“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”

“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”

“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.

“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”

Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”

“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”

Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.

“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.

“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”

“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”

“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”

“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”

You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”

Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”

Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.

Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.

“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.

“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”

“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.

You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.

“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.

Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”

“I—”

“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”

You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”

“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”

She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.

Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”

You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.

Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”

And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.

“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.

“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”

“Tried to … what exactly?”

You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”

Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”

“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”

“So basically fuck around.”

“Yiren!”

“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”

You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”

“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”

“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”

“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.

“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”

“You’re getting 25% max.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”

“Yiren!”

You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.

The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.

Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.

It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.

Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.

It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.

It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.

That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.

It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.

So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.

Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.

“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.

“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.

“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.

Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.

“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.

“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”

Oh.

Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.

Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.

No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.

You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”

“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.

“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”

You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”

Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”

“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”

“I let you know last week I was coming down!”

“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”

“But still—”

“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.

Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”

“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”

“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”

“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.

“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.

Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.

“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”

Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?

“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”

“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.

You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.

Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.

The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.

“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

“What are you—”

“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”

“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.

“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”

You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”

“I am not staying here tonight.”

“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.

When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.

You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.

You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.

“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.

You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.

Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.

“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”

“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.

The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.

All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.

You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.

And it seems Minghao isn’t either.

Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.

Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.

Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.

You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.

Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.

You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.

“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.

Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”

“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.

“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”

You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.

“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”

“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”

“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”

Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.

“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”

And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.

“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.

You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere  supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.

Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.

It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.

Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.

“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.

“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.

“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”

You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”

“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.

“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.

“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.

“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.

Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”

YOURS TRULY

you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]

When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.

“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”

“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.

“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”

“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.

“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”

“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.

“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.

“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.

You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”

“Yeah! That would—”

“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.

“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.

“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.

As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”

“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“

Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”

“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”

You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.

Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.

“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.

Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”

“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”

Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.

“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.

“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.

“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”

“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.

Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”

You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.

“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”

You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”

Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”

“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.

“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.

It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.

You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?

(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.

Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.

When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.

“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”

Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.

“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.

“I guess.”

“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”

“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”

“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.

“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”

“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”

“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”

A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.

Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”

The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.

“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”

“But are you okay?”

“Jun—”

“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”

You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”

“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.

“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”

“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.

“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”

“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.

“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”

“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”

“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.

You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”

“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”

“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”

“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”

“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”

“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”

“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”

You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“When do I not pay for you?”

“Loads of times!”

“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”

“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”

“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.

So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.

Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.

He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.

“Minghao,” you call out.

It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”

You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”

“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”

“Well yeah. And Jun.”

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”

“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”

“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”

“I know and—”

“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”

You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.

“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”

“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”

When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.

“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”

You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.

“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”

You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.

“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”

Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”

The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.

He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”

“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.

“Can I kiss you again?”

link to smut!

“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.

Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”

Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”

“Well, I don’t know but—”

“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”

You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”

“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”

“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”

“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.

Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”

“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”

Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”

“Yes—you got lucky.”

“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.

There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.

Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.

You’re happy. So, so, so happy.

Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)

P.S. I love you.

a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)

#xu minghao #xu minghao x reader #minghao #minghao drabbles #minghao x reader #minghao imagines #the8 #the8 x reader #the8 imagines #minghao scenarios #minghao x you #xu minghao fluff #minghao fluff #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #minghao angst #kpop fanfic #the letter #📝 writing

[andvys]

Love will tear us apart // The snow ball (prequel)

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption 

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

*this is not a new chapter, just a flashback scene (set in s2)

series masterlist 

-

Eddie doesn't know how he, out of all people got here but Mr Clarke, who was still one of the only teachers that he liked, approached him after school yesterday and asked if the school could borrow his music equipment for the snow ball since the school’s stereo equipment broke right before the ball. 

Eddie was surprised that Mr Clarke even remembered him and his band in the first place and Eddie couldn't say no to one of his old teachers, one of the only ones who was always nice to him, despite his chaotic nature. 

Now, Eddie didn't have to be here but there's no way that he would’ve let anyone else touch his equipment. Even if that means that he has to play horrible music all night and watch a bunch of middle schoolers have more luck in love than him. 

He isn't the only high schooler in this place tonight, both Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers are here. The smiles they share aren’t subtle in any way and Nancy even kissed him openly. His guess was correct, Steve and Nancy did break up. Now, he didn't care about either of them or their relationship but what he cares about is you. Does their break up mean, that you are with him now? 

He doesn't try to dwell on it. The thought of you and him together, feels wrong. 

He leans back in his chair, rolling his eyes at the next song time after time by Cindy Lauper came on and Eddie could just groan from annoyance. He looks around the room, eying the decorations and the smiling kids. He never went to the snow ball, back in middle school.

His eyes fall on, you? Eddie straightens his back, looking at you with wide eyes. You are standing next Nancy, laughing at something she said. You, look so beautiful. 

Curls frame your pretty face, half of your is up in a bun. The color of your dress matching the new scrunchie in your hair. It must be new, you gave him yours a while back and he never gave it back to you. 

Suddenly, this night isn't as boring as it was just a few minutes ago. A smile tugs at his lips as he watches you smile, waving at someone on the dance floor. You whisper something to Nancy before you walk off. 

He watches you in curiosity, eyes following your frame. You stop in front of a group of kids, greeting them with a big smile. You reach your hand out to touch one of the boy’s hair after he presented it to you, proudly.

Something tugs at his heartstrings as he watches you walk towards the dance floor with Jonathan’s little brother, Will as the next song starts playing. 

The little boy smiles happily as you begin to dance and Eddie can’t help but smile as well. His heart skips a beat as your smile widens. You are cute, so goddamn cute and Eddie knows, he's just gone. 

“Hey.” 

Startled, Eddie turns around and finds Jonathan standing there, looking at him with somewhat of a teasing smile on his face. 

“Hey, man.” Eddie mumbles, trying to act cool. Like he hasn't been caught staring at you. 

“Didn't think I’d see you here.” Jonathan says, sitting down on the free chair next to him. 

Eddie and Jonathan weren't exactly friends but they did get along and would talk every now and then. 

“Yeah well, I thought it’d be really cool to hang out with a bunch of kids.” Eddie shrugs.

Jonathan snorts “I think you’re having more fun watching y/n.” he says, pointing to you and Will. 

“W-What?” Eddie exclaims with big eyes, feeling caught. His cheeks are flushed and he shakes his head at Jonathan’s words “I-I’m not watching her!”

“Sure.” Jonathan chuckles “and you also, totally don’t sit next to her in class after seeing Billy mess with her. You should've seen his face when you stole his seat.” 

Eddie scoffs and again, shakes his head. 

Jonathan is right. Eddie did steal Billy’s seat. After witnessing how uncomfortable he made you feel and after you told him that he would always sit down next to you to flirt, Eddie took it upon himself to.. protect you. In a way. 

“Do you like her?” Jonathan asks. 

Eddie furrows his brows at the question. He turns towards him for a moment, no trace of amusement left in his eyes, it’s just a genuine question. There also something else lingering in his eyes, knowing. 

He turns his head and looks at you again. Does he like you? The answer is quite obvious, deep down. But is he ready to say it out loud? Is he ready to say ‘yeah, I like her, I have always liked her.’? 

“Uh- does it matter?” he asks. 

Jonathan scrunches his face up in confusion “does it matter? Of course it matters!” 

“No it doesn't! She likes someone else!” 

Jonathan looks at him with raised brows, he is your best friend, something Eddie doesn't seem to be aware of. He knows you don't like anyone else. You like Eddie. 

“Someone else?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie mumbles “saw her getting cozy with King Steve.” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“What?” Jonathan laughs. He has never once heard you talk about Steve a non platonic way. You were just friends, he’s sure of that. Not something he is quite fond of, he never truly liked him, even after he has supposedly changed.

“Yeah. After the halloween party and countless times after that.” 

Just a few days back, he saw the two of you on the school’s parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car, you were talking to him about something when he saw Steve leaning closer to you and you let him, you didn't move away, like he had hoped you would. 

But, he didn't stay long enough to see you move away from Steve, he didn't see how you turned to look at Eddie. 

“I know they’re just f-”

“Hey.” you interrupt Jonathan, avoiding Eddie’s eyes “Nancy’s looking for you.” 

“Oh! Okay.” he mumbles, he turns towards Eddie and gives him a tight lipped smile “I’ll come back later.” 

Eddie nods at his words and gives him a small smile before he looks back at you. You are still not looking at him and instead watch Jonathan leave. 

You have avoided Eddie since the night at the halloween party. His rude behavior took you aback and you would be lying to yourself if you said that his words didn't hurt. 

Without looking at him once, you go to leave but to your surprise he stops you, mumbling out a shy “hey.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you turn towards him, looking at him with a confused expression “hi?” 

Eddie shifts in his seat, uncomfortably. Suddenly not knowing what else to say as his eyes lock with yours. 

“I-I see, you and Nancy made up?” 

“We were never fighting?” you mumble. 

So, he still believed that you were the reason for Nancy’s and Steve’s breakup. He still saw you as this, horrible person. 

“Right.” he mumbles, awkwardly. 

He knows you’re about to turn away and walk off. The look in your eyes represents nothing but annoyance, he gets it. The last time you actually talked, he was.. mean. 

“Y-You uh, you look pretty.” he stammers with a blush on his cheeks. 

With wide eyes and parted lips, you look at him in shock. Did he really just say that? 

“T-Thank you.” you mumble. 

His brown eyes hold something, something that you can’t read. Why, is he so hard to read sometimes? 

“Do you wanna sit down?” he asks, pointing to the chair next to him. 

“Uh.. sure.” 

As if you would ever say no to him. 

You sit down, laying your palms on your lap, you turn towards Eddie, who still stares at you. He angles his body towards you and leans his elbow on the table, when the song suddenly stops playing “oh, shit. Gotta change the tape, hold on.” 

You watch him, rummage through his backpack, trying to find the right tape. He has a concentrated look on his face, tongue poking out between his lips as he eyes two tapes that he picked out. They have no cover on them and neither of them are titled “shit.” he mumbles “this better be the right one.” he chuckles, nervously. 

He pulls the tape out and inserting the new one. He pushes the ‘play’ button and turns towards you again when suddenly Metallica’s Creeping Death starts blaring through the speakers. 

You slap your hand over your mouth, a loud laugh escapes your lips at the horrified look in Eddie’s eyes. 

“Oh shit! Oh fuck!” Eddie exclaims as he looks around the room. The kids all looking around in shock, some of them even holding their hands over their ears. One of the teachers gives him a disapproving look, motioning for him to turn off the music and you, you are looking at him with amusement in your eyes, still laughing. 

As embarrassing as this is, at least he got you to laugh.

“Mr Munson! Eddie!” Mr Clarke comes rushing towards him “I’m sure you are enjoying this music but the kids aren't!” he says, pointing to the kids. 

“Right, right. Sorry.” he rambles as he quickly turns off the music, changing the tape as quickly as he can, pressing play. This time, forever young by Alphaville starts playing and Eddie sighs in relief as he leans back in his chair, grinning at Mr Clarke, who gives him a thumbs up. 

You are still giggling, the stressed look on Eddie’s face makes the situation even funnier. 

Eddie turns towards you with both annoyance and amusement in his eyes “oh, you think this is funny huh?” 

You nod, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing “did you expect them to start headbanging?” you laugh, pointing to the kids. 

Eddie shakes his head “they should've!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up “this stressed me out, I’ll never be the dj again.” he mumbles, reaching for something in his backpack, he looks around before pulling out a flask.

You gasp “you brought alcohol?” 

“How else am I supposed to survive these depressing songs?” 

“H-How are you gonna drive home?” you ask in concern as you watch him drink from the flask, quickly.

“Aw, are you worried about me, y/n?” he teases, smirking at you “you want some?” he asks, offering the flask to you. 

You ignore his first question. Of course, you worry about him but he doesn't need to know. 

You look into his eyes and without a word, you reach for the flask and look around to make sure that no one’s watching before drinking from the flask. Scrunching your face up at the taste of vodka, you give him back the flask. 

He chuckles and takes it back. His fingers brush yours for a moment and he feels that unfamiliar feeling in his chest again. You look at each other for a moment. His brown eyes are burning into yours, his lashes fluttering as he looks down at your lips and then at your neck, eying the necklace around your neck. 

Clearing your throat, you lean back in your seat and look away from him. Suddenly, feeling too flustered to keep your eyes on him. 

Your cheeks feel hot and you can’t help but blush, still able to feel his eyes on you. 

“Are you seriously gonna drive home after drinking?” you ask, still not looking at him. 

“Not like I’m getting drunk.” Eddie mumbles.

“Still, you shouldn't do that.” you say, turning to look at him. 

“What about you?”

You shrug “I’ll walk.”

“You'll walk? At night? That’s dangerous, y/n.” 

You laugh at the expression on his face. If he just knew what kind of dangerous you’ve encountered already. You weren't even safe in your own bedroom when that thing came for you, so, you can't really run from danger. 

“I like going on walks at night, it’s peaceful.” 

“You shouldn't take walks at night, y/n, it’s not safe.” 

“Aw, are you worried about me, Eddie?” you ask, mimicking him. 

Eddie only scoffs, shaking his head at you. Without a reply, he only leans back in his seat. And suddenly it’s silent between the two of you. It's not an awkward silence, it’s actually a comfortable one but you find yourself missing his voice. 

“T-The song is actually good.” you stammer, trying to fill the silence between the two fo you. 

“Is it?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” you nod “I also wanna be forever young.” you chuckle. You don’t what comes over you and why you feel the need to tell him this, out of all people but before you can stop yourself, you open your mouth and let those words fall from your lips “I- I always kinda thought that, I’d die young” you say as you turn back to him. Eddie, he watches you with furrowed brows, lips set in a frown. 

“Why would you say that?” he asks, not trace of humor in his voice. It almost sounds as though he takes offense to your words. 

You shrug, “just a feeling, I don't know.” 

After the hell, you’ve been dragged into, it would just be a matter of time until something or someone would get you. The gate is closed, now. But there's this lingering feeling in your chest, that it isn't over and that it will never be over. 

“Maybe, I'll make it to graduation at least.” 

Eddie eyes you. He can see the broken look in your eyes, the sadness that you try to push back so desperately. Trying to keep it a secret from the world and from everyone around you but he can see it, he can see you. 

“Sweetheart, you have a whole future ahead of you.” he says with a slight, soft smile on his lips. 

“Oh, yeah?” you snort “what future do you see for me?” 

Eddie tilts his head and stares at you, squinting his eyes. He’d want to say something like ‘you’ll get out of here, you’ll get to live your dream life- whatever that may be. You’ll meet your person and live a long and happy life’ but he is too bitter to even think of you with some, person. And he can’t be too open now can he? He can’t show you how much he may care for you when he knows that there's someone else lingering in the back of your mind. He can’t be vulnerable with you. 

“Well, your parents are rich aren't they?” he mumbles, with distaste in his voice “means they'll send you off to some elite university and the moment you graduate, they’ll pressure you into marrying some rich dude, probably Harrington or some other business man douchebag from Hawkins. Then, he’s gonna pressure you into having babies but you’re not gonna want them because you’ll realize that you don't even love your husband- in reality, you’re in love with the mechanic that fixes your husband’s car, also the one you've been fucking behind his back.”

You blink, staring at him perplexed, he raises the flask to his lips after his rambling.

“Are you gonna be the mechanic?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, almost choking on the vodka. He pulls the flask away and stares at you with big eyes and parted lips “m-me?”

You chuckle and shrug as you reach for the flask, eying his ringed fingers “bet you're good with your hands.” 

You can see the redness on his face, how flustered he’d gotten and, you love it. For the first time, it’s you, who left him speechless, not the other way around. 

Keeping eye contact with him, you drink again before pushing the flask back into his hand. A smirk tugs at your lips “anyways, I gotta go.” 

You get up, almost chuckling at the look on his face. You lean towards him one last time “I’d never marry the rich douchebag in the first place. I’d marry the mechanic.” 

And with that you walk away, leaving a very stunned Eddie who’s eyes follow you. 

“What the hell?” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

[penmansparadise]

Steve Harrington ~ A Sweet Distraction

*I DON’T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Wheeler Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mild language.  Kind of spoilers from S4.

a/n: This was requested by @lollipopz​ .  I hope this is what you wanted!  I did take some liberties with the story by putting Steve back in high school.  It’s been a while since I wrote for Steve, but I had fun doing this one.  Enjoy everyone, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist I have.  Remember, my asks are always open, so don’t be shy.  Get to know me lol.  Also, requests are still open.  I do have quite a bit of requests to get through, but as long as you don’t mind waiting for something, I am happy to write for you.  Thank you all for the love!!

§

You sat at your desk, fighting to keep your eyes open. The math equations on the chalkboard all seemed to blend together, and class hadn’t even started yet. You sighed and ran your hands over your face. For the past four days, you had been having bad dreams. But not just any bad dreams; you’d been having night terrors. Dreams that seemed so real that you were crying and in a cold sweat when you woke up. The dreams were so bad that you actually dreaded going to sleep every night. It was to the point where you were staying awake until your body crashed. But then the nightmares stopped only coming at night. You started seeing and hearing the steady tick of a grandfather clock. You didn’t tell anyone. Instead, you just came to the conclusion that you were probably hallucinating from the lack of sleep, or at least you hoped that’s all it was.

You rubbed your eyes before looking up and seeing Steve enter the classroom. Even though you felt like you hadn’t slept in about a week, your body suddenly became very alert. You knew Steve for as long as you could remember, but it wasn’t until a couple years ago that you started seeing more of him. He started hanging out with your little brother, Mike, and his friends. At first, you thought it was a little odd that a teenager was hanging with a couple of middle schoolers, but you quickly pushed that thought away. You hadn’t said two words to the boy. You were just happy to catch a glimpse of him and earn a smile in passing. When you found out you shared the same math class at the beginning of senior year, you almost exploded. And when Steve sat next to you on the first day and actually said hello, you nearly fell out of your chair. You were mid-way through the school year now, and still, your only interactions were about Mrs. Anderson’s trigonometry quizzes.

Steve maneuvered through the desks until he was sitting at the desk next to you. He looked perfect. His hair was combed and styled with enough volume to make half the girls in the school jealous. He was handsome, whereas you probably looked like an extra from Return of the Living Dead. Steve hung his backpack on the back of his chair before turning to you. Your tired stare was trying to focus on the chalkboard, but you could feel Steve’s eyes boring into you.

“Hey,” he said, causing you to turn your attention to him, “are you feeling alright?”

He leaned a little closer to get a better look at you, but you quickly turned back to the front of the room.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, waving him off, “I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Nightmares?”

The single word had your back straightening. You hadn’t told anyone about what you had been dealing with. No one knew a thing. You snapped your head to face Steve again, and he jumped back a little at the sudden movement.

“What did you just say?” The question came off a bit harsher than you wanted, but you couldn’t help the hope that bubbled up inside you. Steve put his hands up in surrender and leaned back in his chair.

“Sorry, I was just asking if you had nightmares? You know? Like bad dreams?”

Your jaw went a little slack. Of course, Steve didn’t have a clue what you were going through because you were going insane. Nobody was having vivid nightmares or seeing a random grandfather clock. You let out a breathy laugh to try and cover up the utter disappointment you felt.

“Oh, right, yeah, just a bad dream.”

You turned your attention to the front of the room just as Mrs. Anderson began her lesson, but you weren’t really listening. Instead, you dropped your head down onto your desk. You let your eyes shut for a brief moment, and that is when the ticking started. It was quiet at first as if it were miles away, but it slowly got louder with each passing second. You raised your head from your desk to find the once full classroom empty. Mrs. Anderson wasn’t standing at the board droning on about sin and co-sin, and Steve’s worried stare was nowhere to be seen. The fluorescent lights that shined from the ceiling were dimmer than before. Your breathing began to quicken when the ticking sounded again, and you turned to see the grandfather clock standing just outside the window. You watched the pendulum sway back and forth, dinging with each swing.

“Your time is almost up, Y/N.” A low voice grumbled, and you began to franticly look around to find where it came from. Your name echoed over and over again in your ears until, as if you were being sucked out of a wormhole, the lights came back on, and the entire class was staring at you.

“Y/N?” Mrs. Anderson said, “The answer to number seven?”

Your ears were ringing, and you could feel your chest tighten as the panic started to settle in your body. A couple of students began to laugh at your inability to answer the question. Mrs. Anderson raised her eyebrows, but instead of giving her an answer, you shot to your feet and grabbed your bag.

“May I use the restroom?”

Mrs. Anderson’s eyes narrowed before she gave a reluctant nod, and you ran out of the classroom. The bathroom was right around the corner, and when you entered the dingy room, you didn’t waste any time locking yourself in a stall. You dropped the toilet seat, placed your bag at your feet, and sat, throwing your head in your hands. Tears that threatened to spill over burned your throat as you massaged your scalp. You were staring at your feet, counting the cracks in the linoleum floor, when the lights began to flicker. Your fingers froze in mid-scratch, and your body tensed.

“Y/N? Honey?” Your father’s voice sounded from the other side of the stall, and you slowly raised your head to stare at the graffiti-covered door. Bile crawled its way up to your throat, but you swallowed it down.

“Dad?”

You looked up at the flickering lights again and knew that your father was not actually there.

“Did you want help with those math questions again? I went and got you a calculator?”

You recoiled a little on the seat just before the lights above you started to flicker more rapidly, and two dark, slimy inhuman feet came into view at the bottom of the door. Then, suddenly the stall door began to rattle, causing you to jump back.

“Y/N! Did you hear me? Open the goddamn door!”

You let out a scream, and your hands flew to your ears. The tears from earlier were falling at full force as you tried to block out the sound of your father’s distorted voice.

“Open the goddamn door, Y/N, or I’m gonna bash your pig-ignorant skull in myself.”

Another scream fell from your lips as you scooted back even further, causing you to fall to the floor. You continued to push back until your back was smashed up against the wall and your knees were pressed to your chest.

“Go away! Go away! Go away!” You shouted as the door rattled on its loose hinges. Every part of you hoped that the rusty screws holding it in place didn’t give out.

“Do you hear me?” Your father’s voice echoed in the small bathroom, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Go away! Go away!”

“Can you hear me?”

“Go away! Go away!”

Then suddenly, the door stopped rattling, the lights stopped flickering, and the room was silent. All you could hear was the sound of your heavy breathing and racing heart. Your cheeks were stained from the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. Your eyes flittered around, taking in all they could see from under the stall. There was nothing there. You peeled yourself off the floor, grabbed your bag, and carefully moved to unlock the door. When it squeaked open, you took a single step out to find the bathroom the way it normally was. Dirty mirrors, paper towels were strewn on the floor, and grimy sinks. It was the same rundown bathroom you were used to. Your nose started burning as you tried to hold back a new bout of tears. You took another look around. It was mere moments ago when you had sworn you were going to die. A sob bubbled out of you, and you took off running out of the bathroom.

Your vision was so blurred as you burst through the door that you didn’t realize there was someone right outside until you were slamming into their chest. You started swatting at whoever it was, still shaken up from the bathroom incident, when suddenly two hands gripped your arms, ceasing your assault. Another sob racked through your whole body just as the sound of an angel’s voice cut through your crying.

“Hey, hey, what happened? What’s going on?” Steve asked, trying to get you to focus on him. When you finally opened your eyes and looked at him, it was like a cool drink of water on a hot day – refreshing. His brown eyes held so much worry he could put any mother to shame.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing little circles on your arms, “Talk to me.”

Your breathing was so ragged you were almost hyperventilating, and it felt like you might faint. You just shook your head as another wave of tears started to brim.

“I-I need to get out of here,” you said more to yourself than to Steve. But he didn’t care. He bent his head down enough to regain your eye contact.

“Where do you want to go?”

You lifted your head to hold Steve’s stare. His large hands gave your thin arms a little squeeze, urging you to answer. Your bottom lip quivered as you took in a shaky breath.

“Anywhere but here.”

Steve just gave a curt nod before saying, “Come on,” and snaking an arm around your waist. You didn’t protest as he pulled your body close to his and guided you toward the parking lot. But you couldn’t help the little flitters of butterflies in your stomach at being that close to him. You had a little thing for Steve for years but had always assumed he was out of your league. But now you were curling into his side, and he was holding you tighter with every inch you gave him. For the first time in days, you actually felt comfortable and safe.

When you reached Steve’s car, he opened the door for you before getting in himself. He didn’t say anything as he started the car and began pulling out of the parking lot. Neither one of you said anything as Steve drove farther and farther away from the school. You were fidgeting with your fingers, and your leg was bouncing about as fast as Steve was driving. You leaned your head against the window, letting the chill of the glass pour through you. Your eyes shut briefly before Steve finally spoke.

“What happened back there?” He asked, his voice much louder in the quiet of the car. You shook your head, reopening your eyes.

“If I told you, you’d probably think I’m crazy.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, I highly doubt that.”

You turned to face him, and when you saw how sincere he looked, you opened up.

“Have you ever felt like you were going crazy?”

Steve nodded.

“Occasionally, yeah.”

“Well, I’ve been feeling that way for almost a week now.” That statement hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t fully thought about how long everything had been going on. You gulped at the realization before continuing.

“It started with these unbearable migraines, then I started getting nose bleeds. I thought, maybe I was just pushing myself too hard, but then I started having these vivid nightmares.” You started to fold back into the seat.

“They felt so real that I dreaded going to sleep.” You paused and looked down at your hands.

“Then I started seeing this clock.”

You could see Steve stiffen in the seat next to yours.

“What clock?”

“It’s an old grandfather clock that’s ticking like it’s counting down to something.”

You looked back at Steve and could tell his once calm demeanor had changed to what looked like fear.

“Is that what you saw in the bathroom?” He asked, voice a little strained.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “I saw something much worse.”

“What did you see?”

He turned enough to lock eyes with you briefly as you whispered, “A monster.”

You could see Steve’s throat bobble at your statement, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his attention back to the road. The silence was back, but it was much heavier than before. You couldn’t help thinking that Steve knew something you didn’t, but you didn’t press the issue. Instead, you turned to look out your window.

“Where are you taking me anyway?”

Just as you asked that a tiny building came into view. The old ice cream parlor you used to go to when you were a kid. You remember seeing Steve there sometimes, but you didn’t think he paid attention to anything you did.

“How does ice cream sound? I know you used to come here a lot when we were younger.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Steve paying attention to the small details about you. You didn’t know how he did it, but in a matter of minutes, Steve had managed to make your very scary reality fade away. There was no longer a monster chasing you in your dreams and making you hallucinate. It was only you and Steve sitting in the parking lot of one of your favorite places. A wide grin spread across your face.

“Ice cream sounds perfect.” You said before following Steve out of the car and up to the store.

Steve held the door open for you, and as you approached the counter, his hand fell gently onto your low back. Your eyes widened, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. It was the second time he had touched you so intimately, and you knew that you only ever wanted him to touch you like that and no way else. You leaned into him, his hand like an anchor, keeping you steady throughout the storm.

The two of you ordered your ice cream, Steve never removing his hand until he had to pay. But once his wallet was back in his pocket, his hand was back on your body as he led you to a table out front of the store. When you sat, you immediately began to devour the delicious, sweet treat. Sitting across from Steve, you couldn’t help but stare at him. His gray Members Only jacket hung over a black shirt, and his hair was a little windswept now, but he pulled it off. A small smile pulled at his lips.

“What?” He asked, snapping you back from your daydream.

You shook your head, a bright red blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Steve began wiping his face and looking at his hands.

“Do I have something on my face or something?”

You started chuckling as he continued his attack on his face.

“No, no. It’s nothing.”

“You can’t just stare at a guy and not elaborate.”

You dropped your stare to the table, the blush deepening.

“You’re just not what I expected.”

“Well, what did you expect?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you said, raising your eyes to meet Steve’s again, “Not you being this nice to me.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement.

“Have I ever given you a reason to believe I’d be anything but?”

“No,” you said, your smile returning, “you haven’t.”

The two of you held the other’s gaze for another beat before you look away, the heat on your cheeks like an inferno. You continued to eat your ice cream in silence before Steve spoke again.

“You know,” he said, “this is kind of a big step for me.”

“What’s that?”

He motioned between the two of you.

“This. Sitting here talking to you. Just the two of us.”

You bit your bottom lip in an attempt to control the wild grin that wanted to split across your face.

“And why would you say that?” You asked in your most nonchalant tone of voice.

Steve leaned back and threw his arms up.

“Because ever since I became your brother and his little shithead friend’s honorary babysitter, I feel like there’s always something preventing me from talking to you.”

A giggle you had been suppressing fell out, earning a smile from Steve. You looked down at the rustic table.

“This is a pretty big deal for me, too,” you said before slowly drawing your eyes up to meet Steve’s stare again. He straightened in his seat.

“Oh, yeah?”

You let out another giggle.

“Yeah, because ever since you became Mike’s honorary babysitter, I’ve really wanted to talk to you.”

This time it was Steve’s turn to blush. That little red tint on his cheeks sent your heart into a frenzy. You, insignificant and completely batting out of your league, had that effect on Steve, the King of Hawkins high. It wasn’t long before he regained his composure, leaned forward over the table, and lowered his voice.

“Well, don’t tell Mike, but the only reason I began hanging around in the first place was because I wanted to see you.”

Your stomach did a 360 as you held Steve’s soft stare. You watched as a small smile spread across his face, crinkling his eyes in the process. You could have stared into his cedar brown eyes forever had time permitted, but you knew your parents would be wondering where you were, so you finished your ice cream and followed Steve back to his car.

Steve’s hand continually brushed up against yours on the center console the whole way to your house. Every part of you wanted to feel his fingers curl around yours, but you didn’t want to press your luck. And soon enough, he was coming to a stop in your driveway. His little touches ceased as he parked the car and turned to fully face you. He was much closer in the tight quarters of his car.

“I had a good time talking to you, Steve.”

“I had fun too,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Your fingers itched to feel the softness his hair provided, and you had to actively stop yourself from reaching out.

“Maybe we could do that again sometime,” Steve said, and you smiled.

“I’d like that.”

You held his gaze for another beat before turning and opening the door, but you stopped short just as you were about to get out. You turned back to Steve and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.”

He lifted a hand and cupped your cheek.

“Always.”

You let his warmth wash over you for a split second before finally getting out and walking up your driveway. Once inside, you made your way up to your room, high on the feeling of Steve’s hands on you. You plopped onto your bed and sighed, the thoughts of whatever monster was haunting you were far away. At least for now.  

Taglist: @violetrainbow412-blog @tellmehows

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom

[random-writer-23]

Happy Haunts (Rich Goranski x reader)

Warnings: just Rich being a kinky boy so.. be prepared for that... a lot of cursing... probably cringe but whatever it's fine just high schoolers being high schoolers. I'd prefer if minors didn't interact with this post however since there is no explicitly sexual content it should be fine

Requested: no I just wanted Horny boy Rich content so yeah

Sentence starter that inspired this: "oh please you love hearing me scream" "only when you're screaming my name"

Word count: 4102

I had been head over heels in love with my best friend for 3 years now. Rich Goranski. Rich and I grew up together since we've lived next door to each other for practically our entire lives. Our families became so close the two of us practically lived at each other's houses. In fact, I had spare clothes kept in Rich's closet. Daily movie nights were a frequent occurrence and a tradition we carried on to this day. We were always joined at the hip in elementary school, one of us almost never being seen without the other. But as we grew up, I became friends with the popular kids in middle school and Rich didn't. We were still best friends, of course, I just branched out and became friends with basically everyone and Rich didn't. He told me he didn't like branching out because he didn't want people to make fun of his lisp. Personally, I had always loved his lisp and thought it was adorable, but he hated it. I tried to get him to come sit with me when we got to freshman year but he pushed me away. I was a little hurt but couldn't dwell on it when Chloe and Brooke were constantly bugging me to hang out with them. So that's where I went for lunch, and with their help boys were soon practically crawling over each other trying to ask me out. I of course had no interest in any of them because my eyes were solely fixed on my lifelong best friend. But I pretended to flirt with every guy because it was nice feeling like I was wanted, and yet unattainable. It always made Chloe and Brooke so mad whenever I rejected a guy because they never knew who I actually liked since I flirted with everyone. At this point, Rich and I still hung out every day at home but he never wanted to talk to me at school. Something I never understood since he always wanted to be popular, and I essentially was popular. Our Sophomore year, however, Rich changed, over the course of the summer he became popular, I was happy for him of course but I was confused. He came over every day during summer as usual and one day his lisp just disappeared. I didn't mention it though in case it upset him in some way. It was that same day when I first noticed him hanging out with Jake Dillinger (who tried to ask me out 3 times). I had gone to the mall with Brooke and Chloe. Brooke had spotted Jake from a mile away and quickly pointed him out to Chloe (who had the biggest crush on him).  I looked as Chloe asked me who Jake was hanging out with since I knew everyone. I turned my attention to where Brooke had pointed and saw Rich walking with Jake joking and Laughing like they'd known each other their entire lives.

"Rich, Gorinski" I replied to Chloe's question, "he's my neighbor, and my best friend" I replied with a slight smile. Brooke turned to me incredulously

"I thought we were your best friends" She said putting her hand on her jutted hip.

"I can have more than two Best friends Brooke'' I replied and she laughed, Chloe shushed us and pushed me forward motioning for me to walk towards Jake and Rich. I walked up to the boys waving.

"Hey boys!" I said switching on the instinctual charm and throwing them both a flirtatious smile. I watch Rich pause for a second before smiling and flirting back.

"Looking good today (y/n)" He threw back with a wink, I smiled.

"Thanks Rich" I giggled, Brooke stood by awkwardly as Chloe so obviously flirted with Jake and he even more obviously flirted back. I looked at Brooke giving her a side eye before commenting. "Hey Jake why don't you just fuck her already" I laughed innocently.

"Yeah you're already doing it with your eyes" Brooke added, to which the whole group laughed and Jake replied.

"I'd like to take her on a date first" He winked grabbing Chloe's hand. Chloe giggled, and I jumped in again.

"She's free anytime, I just cleared her schedule" I gave Chloe a Smile, and she threw me a thank you over her shoulder. I nodded and pulled Brooke away with Rich following behind us.

"I'll bet you 20 they do it the minute their first date ends." Brooke giggled.

"And I'll bet you 20 she goes home with him today" I replied with a grin.

"Oh you're on (l/n)" Brooke shook my hand with a determined expression on her face.

"No backing out" I insisted, still shaking her hand.

"Wasn't planning on it" She giggled as my phone dinged signaling I got a text. I held my hand out to Brooke showing her the text.

MyMainHoe😘😘: you and Brooke go on ahead I'm gonna go home with Jake 😉 Me: Yesss get it queen!!! 😍😍😍 USE PROTECTION HOE!!!!!! 🤪🤪

"DAMNIT" Brooke yelled as she begrudgingly handed me a 20, and I laughed.

"Well my mom's gonna pick me up soon then" She said with a sigh.

"Awe two bad I was gonna treat you to lunch" I added holding up my brand new 20.

"Oh whatever" Brooke replied.

"You can treat me for lunch," Rich added with a sly smile.

"I'll take you out for some (f/restaurant) after Brooke leaves, K?" I gave him a smile and he nodded. For the next hour Brooke, Rich and I wandered around the mall laughing at all the jokes Rich told us. A second thing I noticed was new with Rich, he never used to be this funny. I mean sure he was funny to me but no one else ever really got his humor. After like another hour of the three of us walking through the mall, Brooke's mom picked her up.

"So (y/n)" he said wrapping an arm around my shoulder because somehow he was taller than me (if you're taller than him just pretend you're shorter) He pulled me into his side and I giggled.

"Yes gorinski? You ready to go to (f/restaurant)?" I replied looking up at him.

"Well that's not exactly what I had in mind for lunch" He mumbled into my ear with a sly grin. I looked at him and smacked his arm.

"Richard Gorinski! You kinky bastard" I whisper yelled at him to which he just pulled me closer and laughed.

"You want a ride home?" He asked looking down at me with a wide smile.

"That would be wonderful, Rich," I replied as he led me out to the mall parking lot.

-Time skip A month or so-

As time went on, Rich came to join our group, and very quickly got bolder in the way he outwardly flirted with me. He used to get so flustered whenever I tried flirting with him it made this new bold Rich kinda refreshing. But the bolder he got with his flirting the more flustered I ended up. And also with this new bold Rich came a new bully Rich that I didn't like as much. Whenever I saw Rich bullying someone, it was usually Jeremy Heere, who was actually very nice so I tried to stick up for him as much as possible. Rich also became very touchy and flirty during our movie nights, something deep down I didn't mind as much. It was one of our friday movie nights, my parents were both at work as usual and Rich and I were watching my favorite movie (f/m). I had changed out of the uncomfortable stylish clothes I had worn to school and changed into one of Rich's old shirts I had stolen a year ago, and some short pajama shorts, (and a bra obvi). I was... comfy which was the only thing that mattered. I smiled and was laying down on the one end of the couch with my blanket tucked under my arms and one of my legs thrown over it while Rich got the popcorn ready in my kitchen. I heard him mumbling to himself in the kitchen, I listened to his mumblings for another minute or so before I untangled myself from my blanket and walked into the kitchen.

"Rich you good?" I asked peeking around the corner into my kitchen.

"Oh uh yeah yeah I'm fine" He mumbled nervously twitching quickly then stopping.

"You sure" I asked, walking fully into the kitchen.

"Yeah" He said, looking at me and smiling confidently.

"Really?" I hopped up onto the kitchen counter "because the popcorn is burning" I pointed to the microwave and Rich's eyes widened.

He laughed "sorry I'll make some more" he replied rubbing the back of his neck. I covered my giggle with my hand. "Don't cover your laugh" he crossed the kitchen as he said this to lower my hand "it's cute" He winked, and turned around to make the popcorn. I waited till the popcorn was popped and then Rich handed me the bag. I shivered and he looked concerned. "You cold?" he asked, to which I nodded.

"Yeah but pass me a bowl" He got me a bowl from the cupboard, and I hopped off the counter turning to fill it with the popcorn when I felt Rich snake his hands around my waist. I stiffened up as they rested on my waist under his old shirt. "Rich..." I said hesitantly, slowly relaxing in his hold.

"Hmm?" He smiled, humming in response and resting head on my shoulder.

"Your hands are cold" I mumbled feeling the tips of my ears heating up.

"That's why I'm using you as a human heater," He laughed, fully wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up in the air. He carried me to the living room and flopped onto the couch still holding me. He nuzzled his head in the crook of my neck and mumbled "you look really pretty in my shirt" while tightening his hold around me. 

"Rich, the popcorn" I whined turning around in his arms to face the tv trying to get up. He sighed and let me go.

"Alright go get it" He replied tiredly sitting up to grab the tv remote while I grabbed the popcorn. I scurried to the kitchen to grab the popcorn taking a few deep breaths before going back to the living room. I put the popcorn on the coffee table. I pulled my blanket out from under Rich's body and sat on the other side of the couch. He sat up flabbergasted.

"Why are you sitting so far away" He whined.

"What do ya  mean? This is where I always sit" I looked at Rich confused.

"Yeah but it's too far" He whined again making grabby motions towards me with his hands.

"Oh fine you big baby" I laughed crawling towards him settling down in between his legs with my back against his chest, with my blanket covering both of. He smiled.

"Much better" He rested his hand under my shirt on my stomach, and the other on my thigh gently squeezing it. I smiled and relaxed against him.

--The next morning--

I don't even remember when I fell asleep but I woke up to mine and Rich's mom standing over me taking pictures of me and smiling.

"Good morning sunshine" My mom giggled.

"DID YOU SLEEP WELL" My dad said from the corner of the room angrily while my mom turned to glare at him.

"Wha?" I answered groggily, utterly confused as to why they were standing over me. I tried to get up but couldn't as I felt someone's arm tighten around my waist. I turned my head around to see who was holding me and saw Rich with his eyes scrunched up tight behind me. I smiled softly at him before turning back to our moms. Rich's mom smiled at me and touched my cheek gently rubbing it with her thumb. Before her and my mom wandered to the kitchen where my mom pulled my dad along behind them. I twisted around and straddled Rich's lap.

"Wakey wakey" I poked his face with a giggle.

"Stop" he mumbled groggily, god damn his morning voice was hot.

"C'mon my mom is making breakfast" I mumbled climbing off the couch with my face pink. Rich got up slowly and followed me to the kitchen. My mom put two plates of pancakes on the table before her and Rich's mom went to clean up our mess in the living room. My dad stayed in the kitchen with his arms crossed glaring at Rich. Rich just looked at my dad warily while he ate his pancakes while I gave my dad a pointed and threatening look.

--Time skip another month--

From that movie night on, Rich only got more touchy and flirty until the day our group went to a haunted house. Now at this point Chloe and Jake were dating, thanks to Brooke and I. But unfortunately for me Rich and I were not. I was being stubborn and waiting for him to stop flirting and gain the balls to ask me out, not even knowing if he ever planned on doing that. Brooke, Chloe and I had dressed up in one of those cute cliche group costumes except we were the Sanderson sisters from Hocus pocus... But 'sexy' as Chloe had put it. I was Sarah, and we wore the girls' dresses but we had bought altered versions that were shorter and more revealing. We looked pretty hot not gonna lie. Brooke and I carpooled to the haunted house. I don't know why I had agreed to go to the haunted house since I am a very skittish person and get scared very easily. But that's a problem for future me. Brooke and I arrived at the haunted house and Chloe and Jake were already making out. Rich stood off to the side looking down at his phone. I texted him I was here and his head shot up eyes zoning in on the car immediately. A wide smile stretched across his face and Brooke elbowed me suggestively. I laughed and got out of Brooke's mom's car. He ran up to me but stopped for a minute to admire my costume.

"Looking good" He complimented with a smile, "not leaving much to the imagination are you though" He continued with a laugh. I smacked his arm and started adjusting the corset I had worn as part of Sarah's costume trying to make my boobs look less defined. Rich swatted my hands away from my corset in protest to my adjustments. "No leave it the way it is its hot" He said his eyes lowering from my face ever so slightly.

"Oh shut up, and keep your eyes up here" I replied motioning to my face with a light laugh. Brooke hooked her arm through mine and we walked over to Chloe and Jake.

"Hey you two" Brooke said slyly and they looked at the rest of us sheepishly. Chloe smiled at our costumes.

"Ahh we look so hot!!" She laughed, moving away from Jake to stand next to us. Jake looked at us confused.

"Who are you supposed to be?" He asked

"The Sanderson Sisters" Chloe explained, giving a little twirl.

"Who?" He asked.

"Y'know I'd break up with him for that question, Clo" I said sideying Jake, who started apologizing to Chloe. We all laughed and Brooke slowly ushered us into the line for the haunted house. As we closed the door behind us we were enveloped in a thick darkness that was almost suffocating. I blindly reached out for the hand of the closest person, who happened to be Brooke. She gave me a wide smile and pulled me forward further into the haunted house with a loud laugh. A bloody butcher holding a giant rotting boar head jumped out from the darkness shoving the boar head in our faces as we turned the corner to walk into the next area of the haunted house... A giant meat locker.. I screamed and Brooke laughed at me. I pulled my hand away and ran back towards Jake, Chloe and Rich. Running into Rich's arms with a scream. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close until I stopped breathing heavily.

"You want to wait outside for the others" He asked, jerking his head to the doors. "We can leave if you want to" He smiled down at me softly, and I was really tempted to take him up on that offer. But if I did, Brooke would never let me hear the end of it.

"No I'm fine" I smiled nervously as Rich let me out of his hold, but I heard something move behind us. I squeaked and reached out to cling to his arm.

"I forgot how easily frightened you are," Rich laughed, putting the arm I was holding around my waist gently and pulling me to his side. I put my hand on his to keep it around me as we moved forward.  I heard Brooke scream from up ahead the four of us so we all hurried through the meat locker scene to get to her. Tons of fake dead animals hung from the ceiling, more than one of them twitching waiting till we walked past to move. I shut my eyes tightly trusting Rich to lead me through without bumping into anything. I heard Chloe and Jake scream from a few feet ahead of me and I risked a peek from my closed eyes. Re-shutting them when I saw a costumed person looming over the couple. I burrowed further into Rich's side as we left the meat locker scene, I opened my eyes to see where we were going next and it looked like a high school hallway with lockers lining the walls. A bathroom scene was off to the left and a bloodied crazed looking football jock stood over the corpse of a cheerleader, who had a puddle of fake blood leaking from her side. The jock ran towards us with a snarl, growling.

"Nothing to see here" He twirled his knife in his hand with a murderous smile and ushered us along.

"You'd never murder me would you Jakey" Chloe asked pulling Jake past the Bathroom quickly.

"Of course not" He smiled, giving a curt nod to the bloodied jock. We turned another corner and were met with a pitch black hallway, where Brooke was waiting for us. She trailed along, Chloe and her linking  arms happily, while Chloe reached for Jake's hand. We continued walking and at the end of the hallway a single red balloon stood illuminated.

"Awe Fuck no" I mumbled seeing the balloon. "Wherever there's a balloon a clown isn't too far behind" I squeezed my eyes shut but had to open them when I stumbled over my own feet. I looked at the ground when the loud pop of the balloon sounded throughout the hallway. I screamed loudly.

--time skip because I actually am a scaredy cat--

After a whole hour of my heart racing and beating wildly we finally came to the last 10 minutes of the haunted house. I had finally started calming down but Rich never let go of me. Which I was thankful for, we walked down another dark hallway, before Rich spoke to me.

"Y'know if I had remembered you were so skittish I wouldn't have suggested the haunted house" He mumbled with a chuckle glancing around to see if anything was going to pop out and scare me.

"Oh please you love hearing me scream"  I joked back laughing lightly, trying to look ahead and find Chloe, Jake and Brooke, but to no avail. I couldn't even hear Brooke's loud giggle screams anymore. So I froze when I felt Rich's breath on the back of my neck and both his arms wrap around my waist.

"Only when it's my name you're screaming" He whispered in my ear and I shivered turning around in his arms to face him.

"I-" I started to speak but soon stopped.

"Speechless for once are you" He laughed walking me backwards till my back was pressed against the hallway wall. I tensed up. I tried thinking of ways to tease him back, or force him to make a move, but Rich was really distracting right now.

"How would you even know what me screaming your name sounds like" I mumbled without really thinking, I was too caught up in the intense whatever it was we had going on.

"I hear it every night in my dreams. But I'd really like to hear it in real life." He murmured slowly inching his face closer to mine, his eyes darting to my lips and back to my eyes silently asking if he could kiss me. I smiled reaching up to pull his face closer and he pressed his lips against mine. We stayed like that for about a minute before separating. "God you're hot" He growled leaning down to kiss my jaw gently, his voice was music to my ears. I pulled his head away from my jaw and back to my lips by tugging on his hair gently. I kissed him softly before responding.

"I know" I smiled offhandedly, "you are too I guess" I smiled running my hands through his hair and he sighed.

"As much as I love how fuckin hot you look in that costume" He paused and I felt his fingers ghost over my curves (If you look like a cereal box like me, we're gonna pretend you're CuRvY) before he continued. "I think you'd look way better with it on my bedroom floor" He smiled, kissing me again.

"You do know how cliche that sounds right" I laughed after he had pulled away again.

"Eh, I've been waiting years to at least kiss you. I don't care how cliche I sound at this point" He smiled and was about to pull me in for another kiss when Brooke yelled.

"Found them!!!" She shrieked throwing me a devilish grin "You were totally right Jake they were making out!" She teased, I groaned trying to hide my face in Rich's chest. Brooke led us out the Haunted house, thankfully there were no more jump scares for the last 5 minutes to the exit. Chloe looked at me, saw my slightly disheveled appearance, and gave me a knowing look. Jake looked at Rich, saw his mussed up hair and raised his eyebrows with a smile. Brooke was giggling into her hand. "They were 100% making out," Brooke informed the others, who laughed.

"Well in that case, Jake can you give me and Brooke a ride to Pinkberry please? We want some ice cream" Chloe said, turning to Jake, faking a pout.

"How can I ever say no to you" Jake smiled, taking Chloe by the hand and leading her and Brooke to his car.

"Bye you two!" Brooke waved at us excitedly.

"Soo..." Rich said slyly, turning to face me and plant a quick kiss on my lips. "Wanna come over?" He asked with a wide grin.

"Uh huh" I murmured, before shaking my head. "Sorry what did you say? You kissing me is super distracting." I replied with a smile wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Guess I'll have to do it more often then" He replied happily kissing me again. I laughed and moved out of his hold to walk to his car. "You were just agreeing to come home with me" He teased lightly, wrapping his arm around my waist again.

"Oh a little bit eager are you" I smiled.

"Between how hot you look in that costume right now, and how long I've been wanting to fuck you of course I'm fucking eager" He replied opening the passenger door for me.

"Oh wow, horny AND a gentleman" I laughed, trying to brush off his previous comment, as we both climbed into his car and got settled.

"Of course, I have to treat you like a lady now, cause I sure as hell won't be treating you like one later" He kissed me briefly, and laughed as his comment turned me into a blushing mess.

"God you're hot" I said quietly, looking down at my lap and playing with my fingers.

"I try to be, darling," He replied, starting the car and driving us home. 

-Fin-

QOTD: What is your favourite musical

A/N: can you tell how much I love Hocus pocus from this one shot... or do I need to spell it out for you because I  L O V E that movie man. It's great, I was told by a friend I'd totally be Sarah and I was like that's fair I do dance and sing a lot at random times and am DEFINITElY boy obsessed. On another note I really wanted to put the "are we about to kiss right now" meme in there because that's what I thought initially thought but I didn't because I didn't want to ruin the tone of this. Anyway hope you enjoyed!

#rich goranski #Rich goranski x reader #Musicals #Be more chill #BMC #jake dillinger #Brooke Lohst #Chloe Valentine #Fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #Rich fanfic #Rich fanfiction #x reader #x reader fanfiction

[desiccatedwithering]

with those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings

(post-s2 || gen || T || 3.5k || chapters: 1/1 || read on ao3)

Steve probably could’ve planned this better. He probably should have planned this better. In his defense, he’s still nursing something of a concussion. Which, now that he’s thinking about it, is definitely a sign that this is a poorly thought out idea. He should’ve, uh… done research? Asked… not Mrs. Byers, so… Karen Wheeler for advice?

Whatever, at the very least, he should’ve brought someone with him.

Not that there’s anyone you could have brought, a voice that sounds like Tommy mocks, seeing how your girlfriend dumped you, and you have no friends other than a bunch of middle schoolers.

Steve takes a mental nail bat to the Tommy that lives in his head and shoves that train of thought into a little box to never ever deal with. It’s not like the real Tommy would’ve been willing to join him on this mission, even if Steve hadn’t realized that he and Carol were assholes and stopped hanging out with the two of them.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s fully capable of finding presents for a bunch of nerdy kids, even if he is mildly concussed and getting increasingly lost in Indianapolis.

After walking for a while longer—whether it was five minutes or an hour, Steve honestly could not say—Steve looks up from the sidewalk and freezes. Hey, where the fuck is he right now?

A quick glance around confirms that, yeah, he’s well and truly lost at this point. Like, outrageously lost. Never going to find his way back to his car, living on the streets of Indianapolis level of lost. There’s just— He’s surrounded by houses. He’s in some random neighborhood. Is he even in the city anymore?

Steve sets his hands on his hips, lips pursed as he spins in a slow circle. There’s gotta be something useful nearby. Dustin’s always talking about being aware of your surroundings, finding landmarks and using the position of the sun to tell direction or what time it is, that kind of shit. Honestly, Steve’s hoping for something more like a payphone or a sign that says, “This way back to Indianapolis, dumbass!”

Ah ha! There! His feet knew what they were doing. Confidence restored, he saunters towards Dreams and Swords Bookstore. That definitely sounds like the sort of place that’d have the kind of nerdy stuff the kids would like.

Sure, it’s just a normal house with a sign out front, so there’s pretty decent odds he’s about to be murdered, but he’ll take that chance. He resists the urge to ring the doorbell and tries the handle. The door jingles as he pushes it open, and he jumps and then trips over his own feet because that’s just how this day is going to be, apparently.

The woman at the counter eyes him with obvious suspicion. Fuck, can she tell that he hasn’t stepped foot in a bookstore since he was, like, twelve? Does he look like a shoplifter? Or someone who’d, like, try to burn the books for fun or something?

He tries to offer her his most pleasant and charming smile—the one he uses around his parents and his parents’ friends and business partners—but it feels tight and wrong on his face.

She doesn’t smile back, and after an agonizing few seconds of eye contact, he folds, cutting his eyes to the side and ducking into the nearest aisle, out of her line of sight. God, he feels like he’s gonna light on fire. It’s way too hot in here for early December. He unbuttons the top of his coat, heart rate easing a bit when the fabric is no longer strangling him.

He doesn’t think she can see him from where she’s standing, but he still grabs a book at random, opening it and flipping through a few pages. He’s not sure if that makes him seem like he knows what he’s doing, like someone who regularly goes out and buys books, or if it just makes him look more out of place. God, why can he not stop overthinking this? Why has a bookstore of all fucking things sent him into this spiral? Fuck, he should’ve just sucked it up and asked Nanc—

He bites down on his tongue viciously, like that can stop his train of thought from careening off the rails. He doesn’t want to think about Nancy right now. Doesn’t want to think about how they had a fight, and then she decided to skip town before he could even try to fix it. Doesn’t want to think about how something had clearly happened between her and Jonathan while they were off on their joint adventure, how the tension in the air had shifted, how they’d fallen into each other’s orbits so naturally when they all regrouped at the Byers’ place. He doesn’t want to think that Nancy could have cheated on him, but—

The kids. He’s focusing on the kids. He’s here to buy them some little nerd books for Christmas and not think about anyone else.

He puts back the random book he grabbed and starts skimming over the shelves, his fingers trailing across the spines as he goes. He’s just scanning the titles, which probably isn’t the best way to find what he needs, but oh well. So far, there’s nothing that jumps out and screams Here there be dragons or whatever other nerd things.

Ugh, he doesn’t even know what kind of things he’s supposed to be looking for. He knows the kids are into Dragons and Dungeons— No, other way around. Dungeons and Dragons. But he honestly has no idea what that entails. There are books, he’s pretty sure. He’s seen some left open the few times he’s ventured into the Wheelers’ basement, at least. But he doesn’t know which books the kids have or which they might need.

And he knows that Dustin has mentioned something else, something about rings, but—

Shit. He’s gonna have to talk to the woman at the counter, isn’t he?

He pokes around for a bit longer, delaying the inevitable, but eventually it’s time to cut his losses, put on a brave face, and pray that she can help him find something that will work without judging him too harshly for being a meathead jock.

He scans the rows of magazines on the counter as he makes his way over to the register, stride easy and relaxed, a pleasant mask on his face, a careful air of confidence— The facade shatters as his eyes catch and stutter to a stop, his whole body following. He barely notices as he trips on his own feet again, stumbling a bit but never taking his eyes off the cover.

The photo was taken at a bar, a woman standing in the center of the image. But what really draws his attention are the three men surrounding her. They’re all lounging around her, one on the bar at either side of her, and one spread across a row of bar stools. And they’re all practically naked, wearing nothing but jockstraps.

He feels like he should turn it around or hide it behind some of the other magazines. He knows that he shouldn’t be standing frozen at the front of the store, unable to tear his eyes away.

“You want a copy?” the woman behind the counter asks, like that’d be a totally normal thing for Steve to want.

He unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and croaks, “Sorry?” All without managing to drag his eyes away from the magazine. Jesus Christ, he’s sure making a show of himself today.

The woman huffs out a little laugh, tapping her fingers against the magazine. Her nails, short and unpainted, land right above a man’s bare, propped up thigh. “The Works,” she clarifies. “Do you want a copy?”

“I—” Steve shakes his head, which completely fails to clear his mind. He finally manages to pull his eyes up to her face and catches the amusement in her gaze. “I couldn’t…” The protest trails off weakly, dying in the air between them.

“You new to the scene?”

He doesn’t really know what she’s talking about. New to Indianapolis, probably, though it seems like there’s something more to it, something deeper she’s trying to say. He’s always been shit at catching that sort of thing. He can read when people are trying to hide their emotions, bury them out of sight; he can somehow always tell what they’re actually feeling. But his ears don’t seem to have the same ability. Sure, he can recognize the tone that people use whenever they’re trying to be subtle, trying to say something without actually saying it, but he can never piece together what they’re trying to tell him.

He just nods slowly, feeling a bit dumb. His eyes try to escape back to the magazine, and he catches himself at the last second, forcing himself to maintain eye contact.

The woman’s face softens. She grabs a copy, flipping to the next page and pulling out a pen to circle something. “You have any questions, you call this number, alright?” She puts a star next to it, then draws a couple more circles. “And here are a couple places to check out. They can be overwhelming if you don’t know what you’re getting into, though, so read through this first. Actually—”

She darts through the doorway behind her and comes back a moment later with a pile of tiny booklets and flyers. She slips them into a bag and reaches towards the display to grab another magazine: another issue of the same one, which he hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so laser focused. She adds both magazines to the bag, drops in a business card, and slides it over to him. “Our number is in The Works, but I figure having a card doesn’t hurt. That should be enough to get you started, and then you can call the Switchboard or come back here or check out any of the other stores if you need more help.”

“Right,” Steve says, nodding, honestly completely baffled by this whole interaction. “Uh, what do I owe you?”

She waves a hand dismissively. “It’s on the house, since you’re just figuring things out.”

“Thanks,” he says, rocking back and forth on his heels a bit. She slides the bag across the counter, and he takes it slowly, like it might come alive and bite him, like one of those… mimes or whatever they’re called from Dustin’s game. Or like someone might jump out of the aisles and tell him he’s fallen for some bizarre prank before beating the shit out of him. (And why does he immediately picture that person as Tommy?)

“Do you need help with anything else?”

“Um, no thank you,” he says, the paper of the bag crinkling as his fingers tighten around it. Then he nearly smacks himself for his stupidity. “Or, wait— Yes, actually. Do you have any Dungeons and Dragons stuff? Or like other—” Do not call them nerd books, Harrington “—other fantasy stuff?”

She looks at him completely blank faced for a moment.

“Swords?” he adds, voice remarkably weak.

She barks a laugh, not malicious, but Steve still feels a blush burning his cheeks. “Honey, this is a feminist bookstore.”

****

He makes it home after a long, long and exhausting day. The woman at Dreams and Swords, Camilla, did know where to get fantasy stuff; apparently it’s actually not a super uncommon mistake that people make.

(And after hearing that, Steve had to bite his tongue against the suggestion that they should maybe consider changing their shop’s name if lost and bewildered customers came in looking for fantasy books semi-regularly. Because voicing that opinion unprompted would be rude, and he’s making an effort to be less of an asshole these days. Whatever, it’s not his shop, so it’s not his problem. And Camilla’s cool. He wouldn’t want to offend her over something so stupid. Especially not after she helped him figure out where he’d probably parked his car, which involved a fun guessing game where he told her the half a street name that he could remember and then badly described some of the buildings he’d walked past.)

It ended up being fairly easy to get all the kids presents once he was at the comic book store only a few minutes away, somewhere that actually had the stuff he was looking for. Hopefully he didn’t buy anyone something they already have, but he kept the receipts just in case, so it won’t be a big deal. And hey, if something does need to be exchanged, he can always offer to drive them up to Indianapolis and release them into The Comic Carnival, which they’d probably get a kick out of.

Honestly, he’d nearly forgotten about the magazine by the time he has all his bags laid out on the coffee table, carefully emptying them so he can get started on wrapping everything.

And then he pulls out that issue. The Works, November 1984. Right below the title, in all capital letters: Indiana’s newsmagazine for gay men and women. Steve immediately flushes, glancing around his big empty house just to make sure it’s really empty, that his parents haven’t somehow sensed the thoughts in his head and found a way to teleport back to Hawkins so they can kick him out and disown him.

If it felt wrong to look at the magazine in the store, it’s somehow worse here. It feels dirty to be looking at it right now, all alone, in private. The image hasn’t changed; everyone is still wearing at least some clothes. It was deemed tame enough to be displayed right up front in an actual store. But—

Steve takes a deep breath, bracing himself for— for— he doesn’t even know what, and flips the page. He lets out the breath, feeling a little silly because he had watched Camilla open it to the inside cover. He already knew that there wasn’t anything scandalous there. Aside from a list of gay businesses and services. Which, should they really be advertising that they’re gay? Isn’t that dangerous?

The thought sends a chill down his spine, the fear of someone catching him reading this, but he shoves it away. His house is empty as always. His parents aren’t going to be back for weeks, if not months, and they always call before their flight so he knows to stock the fridge (like he doesn’t eat anything while they’re gone). He’s fought monsters from an alternate dimension twice now and met a teen girl with superpowers. He can read a gay magazine in his own home. He can.

Except—

“What would the neighbors think?” his mother would say, so that she could pretend not to be the bad guy; it was always other people who would judge them, who forced them into their neat little nuclear family playacting, who restricted their freedom.

And his father—

Wait. Why the fuck does he care what his parents would say? His father was more concerned about Steve drinking a single beer with a few friends, rather than the fact that a girl had gone missing. He only cared about how rumors might spread, how it might affect their image in town, the family name, their reputation. He didn’t actually care about the fact that Barb was gone, just that the last place she’d been seen was their house, at a party where Steve was behaving less than perfect.

They hadn’t recognized her name a couple weeks ago, just a little over a year after she was reported missing, when Nancy got something like justice and the (cover) story of Barb’s death finally broke. His mother had watched the news with a perfect mask of sympathy, not even a trace of recognition on her face, and murmured, “Oh, her poor family. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your child.” Like she cared about anything beyond how that tragedy could be used to make their family look better. (Like she would even notice if Steve ever went missing.)

She’d wanted to send Barb’s parents a flower arrangement, and Steve didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or scream at the insensitivity, how completely tone deaf that would be. He’d volunteered to buy and deliver it himself and then felt nauseous at his mother’s praise.

His father had squinted at him and said, “Oh. You must’ve had classes with her.”

Steve didn’t bother to point out that she was a year below him, let alone the fact that she died in their pool.

They hadn’t even stayed in town long enough for the funeral. (Steve had gotten the Hollands flowers, because it was his fault that their daughter had died, but he sure as hell hadn’t said that they were from the Harringtons.)

So fuck what his parents think. Even if they did somehow manage to find out— What? Would they hate him? Disown him? Never speak to him again? Almost certainly. But they’ve gone months without speaking to him before, so would it even matter? Sure, he’d have to find a new place to live, but he’s going to have to do that at some point no matter what, so who cares if it happens a few years early. Nothing would actually change, other than his parents no longer needing to pretend to tolerate him.

“Alright,” he says, breaking the dead silence of the living room. His voice echoes a bit in the empty space as he stares at the magazine, bracing himself to read it. “Here goes nothing.”

…

After getting up and double checking the lock. Just to be safe, of course. You never know when someone might try to break in to steal something.

He settles back on the couch and grabs the magazine again, skimming through the list of businesses. Bars, restaurants, a couple more bookstores, some other businesses. Surprisingly, the list isn’t just contained to Indianapolis; there are other towns scattered around the state with gay bars and businesses. And The Works is apparently distributed throughout Indiana and the surrounding states, which is honestly kind of mind boggling.

Camilla had circled a couple of the bars, though whether those were her favorites or the best ones for someone “new to the scene”—the… gay scene?—Steve genuinely has no idea. The switchboard she mentioned was apparently the Gay/Lesbian Switchboard, which shouldn’t really surprise him considering it’s a gay magazine, but it somehow manages to anyway. Story of his life, honestly.

Steve eyes the table of contents on the next page warily. Is he really, actually going to read this? He shouldn’t. Not that it’s wrong or anything, it’s just— just— It’s just that Steve shouldn’t read it.

No. He just decided that he wasn’t going to be bullshit. He’s not going to let himself be a coward and back out now.

(Is this his punishment for calling Jonathan a queer last year? Being caught staring so obviously at a gay magazine that it was given to him for free? Having a stranger notice the same thing in Steve that he used to attack Jonathan—and, worse, treating him kindly about it? Having to actually confront the thing that he’s spent years burying and hiding?)

He’s not stupid; he’s always known that he felt different than other guys. Most dudes don’t think about kissing their guy best friends just as much as they think about kissing the girl they’re crushing on. But it was always easy to ignore that feeling. He knows Hawkins isn’t safe for that sort of thing, never found anyone else who was like him.

But now someone’s seen him, recognized him. Now someone’s looked at him and said I know you. Here’s your community. Here’s where you’ll fit.

He knows that the safe thing—arguably the smart thing—would be to bury this again, to shove this feeling down and ignore it. But he’s tried that already.

He tried playing it safe, tried to pretend that he was a normal teen in a normal, happy relationship. Tried to help Nancy move forward. Tried to keep her safe. Tried to stop her from going toe to toe with the government to get Barb justice. And look how that turned out. The safe option blew up in his face, and now he’s single and friendless—save for a pack of middle schoolers—and still recovering from a grade three concussion.

Playing it safe meant being the son his father wanted, popular and outgoing. It meant being King Steve, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, a douche with false confidence and a plastic smile and dead eyes.

He’s sick of being safe and pretending and trying to mold himself in his father’s image. He’s sick of trying to live up to his parents’ impossible standards. Sick of being bullshit. Maybe it’s time to start being himself.

Steve flips the page. Time to figure out how, exactly, he would do that.

*

pre-Steddie sequel on ao3 or tumblr

#stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #my fic #my writing #my post #st fic #oc: camilla #series: make the yuletide gay #indy queer history #steve pov

[glilboy]

Ateez reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Hyung line

ive had this idea for awhile and even requested it a few times from other writers but..i felt it was time to write it lol

tws under the cut

warning, this piece of fiction contains mentions of somnophilia, slight dom and sub dynamics, and general explicit topics.

Hongjoong:

You had attempted to stay up waiting for Hongjoong, deciding to reread one of your favorite stories in the mean time. Unfortunately that wasnt enough to keep you awake, you ultimately passing out and your phone tumbling onto the floor.

Hongjoong had a feeling you'd passed out since you didnt message him any "i miss you :(" texts after 11pm so seeing you knocked out on the couch was no surprise. He slowly padded over to you smiling softly, then noticing your phone on the floor and went to pick it up for you. He was never the kind to go through your phone but your smart self had no shut down timer which left the fan fiction on display for him.

He couldnt help but be curious seeing paragraphs of text and decided a little reading would do no harm. As he began to read though he felt his gut sweep, in a good way. He was honestly a little upset until he saw his name but when he read his name it was like all of exhaustion disappeared. Luckily he didn't have work the next day he thought to himself.

Sitting down on the couch with a plan he slowly nudged you awake. "Hi dear," he spoked softly with a smirk.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and looked up at him, "Oh hi Joongie. Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep." He smiled even bigger at you.

"Thats fine, it helped me find out something fun," he tucked your hair behind your ear. Still waking up you made a small "huh?" before seeing the phone in his hand.

"Oh..." you mumbled, starting to be awake enough to get it. You finally looked at him straight on and saw his signature devilish grin.

He moved his hand to slowly move up your thigh, giving it a small squeeze which elicted a sigh out of you. "Didn't think you'd read stuff like that Y/N, but I guess you're just full of surprises huh doll," the pet name made you shiver, Hongjoong never having used that one before.

"I'm sorry Joongie," you mumbled into your arm, face now red. His hand moving up to cup your core and grind his hand into it making you whimper softly.

"Oh dont be sorry dolly, just shows me that you really miss me."

Seonghwa:

Saying Seonghwa was caring was an understatement in a way. Despite his busy schedule he made it a point to showed he cared in different ways. One thing he always did was if you left your phone out at all he would put it on the charger for you. Small things!

Today though he had come home earlier than usual while you were taking a quick shower. Seeing your phone on the counter he waltzed over setting his stuff down to throw it on the charger even if it wasn't that low. He noticed you left it on, open to a book he assumed enough.Him being the lovely man he is he wanted to read a bit to see what you liked and possibly buy you a physical copy. Written porn with his name in it though was not what he was expecting.

Seonghwa gulped, setting down your phone with his hands shaking and his face now flushed pink. He took a deep breath and set down his bag, running his fingers through his hair now being surprisingly worked up. A part of him felt embarrassed for being turned on by the writing but at the same time he knew you didn't read it for no reason.

"Hwa! You're home early hello!" You ran up to him giggling, now clean and dressed in some sweats.

"Hey babe, yeah we got let out early cause we learned the new choreography fast enough. They asked us if we wanted to do more vocal practice but none of us did," He laughed, trying to shift his legs to hide his slight erection.

"None of you stay late ever," you giggled sarcastically up at him. "Well, I was gonna take a nap. Do you want to? I'm sure you're tired."

He nodded softly and took your hand walking to your guys bedroom talking about your day. He changed himself into more comfortable clothing then joined you in bed, you curling into him quickly. Once you settled Seonghwa felt he could actually breathe, feeling like a middle schooler just for getting more worked up from having you close. He heard your breath settle which is when he shifted away a bit from you.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, having the space now laying on his back to palm himself over his erection. Looking over at your sleeping face made it worse, the piece you had opened having involved somnophilia. One thing he never had the guts to suggest to you despite having such an open relationship.

He didn't notice your eyes flutter open at the movement. You only just fell asleep so you were in no means in too deep. You decided to play it though, closing your eyes and throwing a leg over his waist as if you were just adjusting in your sleep.

He inhaled a sharp breath and bit his lip now mildly frustrated at the whole situation. Mumbling a fake sleepy "Hwa" you moved to straddle the man hearing a childish sigh escape his lips.

"If you keep moving, I swear to god," He mumbled out loud thinking youre still asleep since you had always been a chaotic sleeper.

"And what will you do about it horny kid," you giggled against his neck. You could feel his body tense.

"Go back to sleep and I'll fuck you like your sick little fantasy, how about that hm?"

yunho:

Rain was beating against the window as you cuddled up on the couch with your phone in hand. Yunho was on the other side of his personal office playing video games. It was a chill day but something in the air was setting you slightly off the edge.

Besides the sweet glances and cheesy smiles thrown at each other, your screen was very much the opposite of innocent pure love. Getting indulged in the story you started to zone in, missing some of his looks making Yunho curious as to what your interest was delved into currently.

"Be right back guys," he said into the mic mischievously. Quickly making his way over he slipped the phone out of your hand, this behavior wouldve typically been fine but because of the contents on your screen you gasped and reached out for your phone. "You doing something naughty or do you just like acting suspicious?" he grinned before looking at your phone.

His face feel reading the paragraph of a particularly nsfw scene. You were now sitting up staring at him wide eyed, "yuyu please oh god its not what you think, i think." Silence filled the room, the only noises being the sound of his running pc and the dull chatter of the other boys.

"Do you read this often?" he said out of hesitation and pure curiosity, almost feeling that he violated your private space. He kind of got the gist of it all right away, thankfully for your sake.

"Not all the time but i mean, you are busy yunho," you tried to softly explain knowing this was odd territory.

"Do you...ever want to try it," he says, getting to the end of the page and looking at you.

"I can't say that..none of them aren't, nice," the air was filled with an awkward energy that could suffocate another person if they came in at such a weird time.

The two of you stood there for a second, until he moved towards you and took your hand. He placed it on his bulge and you sucked a breathe in.

"Take off my pants," he ordered, a strange harsh tone to his voice. For you guys there was never set roles, not any dom or sub dynamic but it wasnt vanilla per say so him speaking like this was new. Besides that, you did as he said and pushed your thumbs under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his legs.

Silently he took your hand then sat down on his gaming chair, pulling out his large cock. He slipped on his headphones before looking up at you with a shit eating grin.

"Sit down, i can tell youve been dying too babe."

yeosang:

You were waiting for yeosang to come home after a shorter than usual practice, deciding to pass the time by indulging in your secret world. In the midst of browsing your favorite blogs you didn't hear the door open, this event made you learn not to have headphones in when participating in such activities.

Walking in, Yeosang looked around for you and spotted your figure on the couch. He slowly moved near with a secret motive of scaring you when he glanced at your phone seeing a photo of him paired with a lot of writing. Tilting his head curiously he squinted to read the text, reading along with you until his face flushed.

Sucking in a breath slightly he moved back to the door, playing off him just entering. You noticed his figure walking towards you and sneakily turned off your phone and got up to greet him.

"Hey babe, it's nice to see you in the sunlight," you giggled and wrapped your hands around his waist. You noticed him hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, causing you to pull away.

"Hey, whats up? you seem a bit off?" you pouted and brushed the hair out of his eyes, not catching the little blush.

"Yeah yeah babe, I'm fine. promise," he cleared his throat and pulled away, making your heart sink a bit. He practically completely ignored what you actually said.

"No Yeo, I- did I do something wrong? Or just a long day?" you pried knowing something was up.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet he looked up at you, his hair back in his face. "I um, saw what you were reading."

The color drained from your face, mouth slightly hanging not knowing what to say. You thought he was pissed, was going to leave and break up with you but right when you were about to talk he spoke again.

"C-can we do that?"

A moment of silence passed and you looked up at him, your boyfriend who was typically very soft and gentle in bed. Knowing what you were reading was likely pretty heavy in his book, you became worried. "Yeo, I just read it. It means nothing I don't want to make you uncomforta-"

His lips cut yours off and one hand entangled in your hair, his other guiding you to the wall by your hip. Back flush against the way you pulled away after a moment to see his eyes wide and sweat already beading down his temple.

"I've wanted to do that, just didn't want to scare you dear."

#ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #kim honjoong smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #kang yeosang smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #kpop smut

[ackerlert]

Sneaky Link

Pairings: Porco x fem reader x sugar daddy!zeke

Summary: University reader becomes Zeke’s sugar baby after meeting each other at her work, which is a stripper, ofc. Eventually develops a relationship with Porco Galliard, of whom Zeke employs ;)

TW: alcohol usage, oral (m / f receiving), food (icing) play, mirror sex, phone sex

You needed some money during college, and tutoring stupid high schoolers wasn’t making the bills. Plus, you couldn’t put up with their slowness one second longer.

When Sasha took you out for a night at the strip club to relieve some stress, her joke that you could always make bank shaking your ass for old men actually sounded quite appealing. It was a lot more fun than tutoring, anyways. 

Out of curiosity, you found yourself browsing the internet for openings at nearby nightclubs. Soon you were watching YouTube videos of strippers going through their daily routine, counting their tips, and describing their success in the industry. You were hooked.

You ask Hitch to take pole dancing lessons with you, and she doesn't suspect any of your true intentions, since this was on your bucket list of things to do together.

Soon you secured yourself a job at a local strip club. The first person you confided in was, unsurprisingly, Hitch. She was surprised you actually pursued being a stripper, but the shock didn't really last for long considering her knowledge of your freaky tendencies.

Hitch advised you to be careful, and she was particularly worried about how you would manage to fit this new job into your tight school schedule.

It was simple: you would take your classes, do your assignments, and report to your job at night. You’d work through the closing shift and get back to your shared apartment with Mikasa, Sasha, and Hitch sometime past 2am.

Zeke is a regular.

He gives you larger tips than any of the other girls.

He even pays for private sessions, which consist of you dancing for him mostly an hour at a time.

Eventually you two fuck it out in a booth of the club.

He asks if you'd like to “do this again sometime”. Naturally, you agreed. He exchanges phone numbers with you and asks for your cashapp. 

Blushing because you didn't realize he intended on compensating you for your arrangement, you agree to give him your account number.

You and Zeke continue this for a couple months, growing more addicted to the orgasms he gives you every time.

You had two generous sources of income now.

You found out a lot about zeke: he owned a decently large company, fucked a lot of women before he met you, and he was even more freaky than yourself. 

One day after a session with Zeke, you're sprawled out on the side of his bed, toying with the golden hair that trailed down his torso, and staring up at the ceiling, mind completely fucked out.

“I have a business event coming up soon,” Zeke states.

You hum in approval, not expecting zeke to continue on.

“It’s plus one.” He pauses, “I was wondering if you would like to join me.”

You turn your head to look at Zeke, almost asking him to repeat himself. Was this like a date thing?

Zeke turned to look at you too. His eyes glossed over at the sight of your surprised face and post-sex hair floating around the crown of your head. He smirked, visualizing the way he had made that sex hair. Gripping your h/c locks and pulling your head back, pounding into you from behind.

Your lips were swollen from being stretched around his thick cock, making him cum round after round. Now they were parted, unsure as what to make of his question.

Zeke repeated himself, “Are you free next Saturday?”

“Y-yes. I’m free.” You said, “I would love to go to your work thing with you.” A smile graced your lips. He fucking loved that smile. Loved seeing it bloom on your face when your eyes rolled to the back of your head, begging to take more of his cock.

“Alright,” he grabbed for his phone, pulling up the information from his calendar. Your phone dinged, no doubt zeke sending you over the event details. “It’s formal attire. Do you need to buy something to wear?” He glanced up lovingly from the screen at you for a mere second. “Fuck it, never mind that.” His eyes reconcentrated back onto the phone. Your phone dinged again, the familiar melody of the cashapp notification filling your ears.

“Let’s take you shopping, princess.” His legs swung over the side of the bed. A back completely full of endless scratches faced you while he stretched those long arms of his. His back muscles rippled as he did so, the sight making your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

“Wait!” You say desperately and propping yourself up on the bed. You didn't intend on opening your mouth, but now you had to commit to it.

Zeke side glanced at you, acknowledging your pathetic request.

“Let me suck you off one more time,” you said. You added, “before we go.” A husky chuckle escaped from zeke’s throat. “Such a slut for me.” “What a good girl, knowing just the way to make me hard.”

Porco and you meet each other at the business event, it’s an instant click. He’s employed by Zeke. Soon you're exchanging numbers with him.

These business parties became more frequent with Zeke. And every time, Porco was there. You two would sneak off to help yourself to drinks while Zeke was bombarded with potential buyers inquiring about his product.

Porco makes you laugh so much. Honestly, it’s probably the alcohol, but every joke he cracked earned a cute giggle from you. It only made him harder for you than he already was.

“I could go a lot longer than him, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

Sooner than later you’re texting Zeke that the alcohol was killing your stomach, and you just had to get out of there right away. 

Porco didn’t wait to stick his strong hands in your pants when you tumbled into the taxi.

“Gonna take you away from that old man’s dick, yeah baby? Give you this big cock like you deserve?”

You make it back to his large apartment, practically humping his clothed leg on the elevator ride.

By the time you’re inside his place, your panties are soaked and the black lace Zeke bought you is falling from your shoulders.

Porco throws you on the bed, not leaving you any time to remove your heels. 

He climbs over you and just starts completely obliterating you with open mouthed kisses across your collarbone.

You don't fail to notice the mirror above Porco’s large bed, seeing the way he straddles over your small body.

Porco sits up from his position on the end of the bed and grabs for your ankles, yanking you closer to him. Just as he hums into your folds, a buzzing emerges from your purse in the middle of the living room.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing the pattern as Zeke’s contact. “It’s Zeke,” you groan.

“Answer the phone, pretty girl.” Porco says with a devilish smirk.

“Wha-?!” Your face fills with terror.

“I said answer the phone.” Porco grows stricter in tone.

“O-ok” your hands shake as you make your way across the floor to where your purse was.” As you accept the call, Porco motions you back to the bed.

You nod, doing as he says.

“Hey princess,” Zeke says with a smile on the end of the phone.

“Hi,” you say shakily. Porco gives you a menacing look.

“Not feeling good?” Zeke refers to your text. 

You let out a shy “Nuh-uh” in response.

“I’m sorry baby,” Zeke says, “I can pick you up so you can spend the night with me in case you feel any worse.”

“No!-“ You say startled, “I mean, no, my girlfriends have me all bundled up back at my apartment.”

Silence from Zeke.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad.” He adds, “I wanted to make you feel a little better than they could tonight.”

You look at Porco, a little intimidated by his intense stare on you. He can hear Zeke’s toying with you from the other end of the phone. He nods, urging you to play along.

You giggle softly, a bad attempt at sounding sicker than usual.

“Really? How so?” Porco slides down the edge of the bed, focused on your legs.

Zeke clears his throat, obviously getting off at the anticipation of phone sex.

Some shuffling is heard on the other end of the phone before Zeke says, “You know, maybe cook you some food. That layered strawberry cake you like yeah?”

You hum in satisfaction, but quickly noticed how your approval angered Porco.

He aggressively pushes your legs apart, eyeing your wetness.

“Use that icing on you.” Zeke says, “Make you filthy when I run it over that pretty body of yours. I’d fucking lick it off you because you taste so good.”

Porco starts to kitten lick between your folds, earning a whimper from you.

You imagine Zeke piping the vanilla icing onto your torso as he pushes himself into you, smearing it across your breasts and stomach with his rough hands.

The pressure between your legs rises as the licks grow longer and rougher across your clit. Porco suckles on that bundle of nerves, and you can’t help but cry out a moan.

The sounds from Zeke’s side of the phone indicate he’s jerking off vigorously at this point. “Say my name, kitten.”

You look wildly down at Porco, who stops his motions to shake his head at you. No way he’d let you moan another man’s name on his own bed.

“Daddy,,” you drawl out. You earn approval from Porco, who resumes lapping at your pussy.

Porco taps your thigh, indicating to you that it was time to hang up on Zeke, who hadn’t cum yet. 

“Oh gosh, Zeke baby” you start, “One of the girls is coming in i have to go-“

“Wait, y/n-“ but you didn't let him finish. You sigh with relief knowing you can fully indulge in Porco now. He grips your thighs roughly, leaving bruises to be discovered tomorrow.

“What’s Zeke doing now, huh?” “Pumping his weak cock thinking about this tight little pussy of yours?” “I wonder what he’d think if he knew your pussy was taking my tongue so well right now. Acting like such a whore for somebody else.”

Porco pulls himself off of your sweaty body, panting and licking up your wetness. 

His eyes are dead set on you, and you felt small under his glare. His hands grab under your arms, quickly flipping your positions. “Bounce on me for it,” he growls.

You nod eagerly, situating yourself above him. Your face reddens as you align your entrance up to him, nervous about his judgement. 

Porco softens, noticing your hesitance, “It’s okay baby girl,” His warm hands caress the side of your cheek, thumb grazing your plump lips, “You’re doing really good,” Porco looks earnestly up at you, flashing you a soft grin. You press into his hold on you, strands of hair covering your forehead that tangled around Porco’s fingers.

You finally push yourself down on Porco’s length, his large girth stretching you full. Porco moans at the new feeling, and you can’t help but whimper at the burning pleasure. Your hands roam around Porco’s strong torso, feeling down his thick abs and rubbing circles into his sides. A low groan emits from his chest, and you admire his expressions from above.

You begin moving along his hard length, his tip hitting just the right spot each time. Keeping a slow pace, you tease Porco a little longer, but he’s quick to bark at you to go faster. You let out a playful giggle, “Okay, you’re the boss.” “Doing so good putting Zeke in his place, hm?”

Porco groans at your words, and you swore he was growing larger inside of you at the thought of demoting his Zeke.

Your movements quicken and Porco continues to let out strings of curses.

“Yeah ride my cock baby, just like that. Just like you do for Zeke.”

The thought of another man puts butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself falter. 

Porco doesn’t miss a beat, however. He quickly thrusts up into you, earning a gasp from your mouth. His hands fly to your sides, balancing you while he does all the work. You whimper at his rapid pace, nearing your climax.

“Porco,” you moan, “I-ah, g’nna cum.”

“Ok, baby,” he says in between thrusts, “Cum then.” 

That was all you needed to hear before spilling your release over Porco.

He continued to milk you out, eventually finishing not too long after. He lets you fall on top of his frame, palms rubbing circles into your and easing you from your high.

“Good job, y/n.” You lift your head up to look at Porco’s face. He smiles back at you tenderly. “Alright let’s clean you up.” 

He settles you on the bed next to his side and slides off the bed to grab a clean towel from the linen closet and discard the condom in the trash. You watch his muscle-y body move across the apartment floors, his clear focus on grabbing the right things for you. 

He comes back with an iced water and starts cleaning up your thighs. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you smile, “I can do it myself.”

He looks up at you, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, “What? No, I’m doing it.” He continues his work at cleaning you off. 

“..oh, ok.” You say shyly, butterflies in your stomach from his actions. 

“Does he not do this for you?” Porco asks, not looking up from fixing up the sheets below you.

You replied slowly, “No, not really.”

Porco sighed, “He’s such a selfish dick.”

You laugh at Porco’s attitude. But now that you think about it, Zeke was always thinking about himself. The thought passed as soon as it came, and you did consider the fact that he was paying you.

Porco nestled himself on the side of you after he was done, grunting a little from his tired state. His big arms hugged around your smaller body as he pulled you in close.

“Porco?” You called.

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” you muffled into his chest.

Porco blushed at your comment, but simply toughed it over and patted your ruffled hair, “Mhm”.

A few pings were heard from your cell phone as you drifted into sleep, no doubt from Zeke, and each time Porco pulled you in tighter. A smile curled crept onto your lips, “It’s not like I’m gonna leave, Pokko,” you giggled.

“Good,” he said, “I wasn’t planning on letting you anyways.”

#zeke jeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager #zeke yaeger #zeke #zeke smut #zeke x reader #porco galliard #porco #attack on titan porco #attack on titan zeke #porco smut #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kiyojin #snk #attack on titan smut #aot smut

[vixenpen]

Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.

I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy

Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU

“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.

He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.

“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”

He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.

He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.

Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.

Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.

Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.

She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.

Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.

Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.

Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”

Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”

She let out a little snort of amusement.

“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”

“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”

“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.

“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”

Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”

“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”

“Not yet.” You replied.

“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.

“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”

“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”

You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.

“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”

“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”

Dabi chuckled again.

“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”

Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”

“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.

You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”

The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”

“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”

You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”

“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”

Dabi laughed before turning back to you.

“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.

“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.

“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.

“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.

As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”

Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.

“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”

“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”

“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”

“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”

“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”

“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”

Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.

You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game

Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.

But Dabi was different.

He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.

He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.

The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.

That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.

Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.

Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.

When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.

Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.

And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.

Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.

He scolded himself.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.

“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.

“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”

Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.

“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.

“Boy! Come on.”

Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.

The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.

Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.

You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.

Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.

Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.

From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’

Pt.2

#dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader #flirting #first dates #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #dabi scenarios #touya todoroki #mha headcanons #black writers #curvy reader

[robinrunsfiction]

CAN I GET A FRANK X READER FIC WHERE THE BAND GOES OUT FOR LUNCH AND Y/N STAYS AT THE BUS AND SLEEPS IN FRANKS BUNK AND THEY GET BACK AND FRANK SEES HER AND JUST GETS INTO BED WITH HER AHD HOLDS HER AND ITS ALL FLUFFY

Hold You Here

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anons Word Count: 2,000 Author’s Note: I’m combining this with another similar request, which resulted in a longer story! I hope everyone enjoys! TW for a brief mention of Gerard’s addiction struggles in 2004

To be in a band meant that your bandmates were your most intimate friends. Hours, days, weeks spent cramped together in small confined spaces meant that everyone saw each other at their best, worst, and everything in between. Platonic physical affection wasn’t an unusual occurrence and neither was sharing beds so that the fewest number of hotel rooms could be reserved to save money, curling up under a blanket together while watching a movie on the bus, not to mention all the on-stage antics, it was all taken in stride. 

It also helped that everyone looked out for each other, but it seemed as if Frank looked out for you more than the others. When things became hectic, or when you were suffering from one of your migraines, he’d always be the one checking up on you to make sure you were okay. Spending hours up late at night talking with him was one of your favorite ways to pass time on the bus. You’d developed quite the soft spot for the chaotic guitarist.

The band had been touring what felt like non-stop for ages, but especially now that Three Cheers was out. It had been a very long, hot summer full of meeting fans, rocking out, and if you were being honest with yourself, way too much partying on everyone’s part. You were feeling pretty burnt out, but the success of the band made it worth it.

Now it was the last week of Warped Tour 2004 and you could tell summer was ending by how quickly the nights were cooling down. As usual when the tour was stopped over for a couple nights, both a bonfire, and most of the bands, were lit. You were standing as close to the fire as you could without melting the rubber on your chucks trying to keep warm.

“Hey,” Frank said, walking over to stand next to you.

“Hey, how’s it goin?” You asked

“Good. Cold?”

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes. “I decided to dress cute, and now I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Who were you dressing up for?” Frank asked, unzipping his hoodie.

“No one really,” you replied, watching as he took off the sweatshirt. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you warm,” he replied.

“You don’t have to,” you started as he put it over your shoulders.

“Too late,” he replied with a smirk that faded into a soft smile.

You looked up at him, in the dim light of the bonfire and you felt your heart skip, like a switch had been flipped. That soft spot you held in your heart for him suddenly felt overwhelmed, like the quiet feelings were now screaming in your ears.

“I bet it’s warmer on the bus,” you suggested, deciding to lean into the moment. You just hoped you were gauging the situation correctly.

His eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded. “I bet you’re right, wanna go back?”

“Yea.”

The walk across the parking lot was silent, as your hands brushed against each other’s, shoulders bumping occasionally. Climbing into the bus, you wandered to the back and confirmed no one else was around, and when you turned back to Frank he seemed a little nervous.

“Ya know you do look really cute. Like not just tonight, like all the time,” he said.

“Thanks,” you replied, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. You were in your 20s, why were you suddenly feeling like a middle schooler talking to their crush?

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” He offered after an awkward silence hung between you.

“Sure. Nothing scary though, I’m tired of horror.”

“How can you be tired of horror?” Frank asked with feigned shock.

“Because that’s all we watch and we’ve watched almost every movie we have 100 times over.”

Frank started flipping through the stack of DVDs that the band had accumulated through countless tours. “What about ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, plopping down on the couch and pulling off your shoes.

Frank put the movie in the DVD player and turned off the lights, sitting next to you. You glanced over, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He glanced back and you snapped your eyes back to the tv. As the movie progressed, Frank casually put his arm over the back of the couch and you settled into his side. 

“I wanna go play paintball, like real paintball, some time,” you said, watching Kat and Patrick’s date on the screen.

“We should go then,” Frank replied.

“Just us? Or,” you trailed off.

“Yea, I mean unless you wanna invite other people.”

You looked up at him, and he was looking back down at you. "No, just us," you said softly.

"Cool," he said with a goofy smile.

You had to bite your lip to keep from giggling, but in that moment, the energy between you shifted. Frank started to lean in and you closed your eyes as his lips met yours. At first the kiss was soft and tender, almost tentative. But then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and your hand ran through his hair as he deepened the kiss. 

When you finally came up for air, you couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw how happy Frank looked. "That was fun," you laughed.

"I've been wanting to do that forever," he said, running a hand through his hair, smoothing it down.

"Well we should do it again sometime," you replied.

Just then, loud, drunken voices could be heard outside the door to the bus and you both jumped apart.

"They're in here makin' out or something," Ray shouted over his shoulder with a giggle. You knew there was no way they could have seen you two just minutes before, but the joke still rattled you.

"No they weren't," Mikey said disbelievingly, as he and Gerard followed.

You glanced at Frank who was shaking his head at your bandmates before he changed the subject to something totally random. Things had literally just started with him, and it felt fragile. The last thing you wanted was to have it all fall apart like nothing happened, and be left wondering forever what could have been.

The next day, nothing about the prior night was discussed between you and Frank, but it had been a busy day of press, playing, and meeting fans. When you were climbing back into your bunk, completely exhausted, you spotted a folded up piece of paper on your pillow. You closed the curtain behind you and turned on the small light above your bed. When you unfolded the note, you immediately recognized Frank's scrawling handwriting. 

(YN), all I've been able to think about today is how your lips felt on mine and wondering when I can feel it again. I can't remember anything that was said to me because I was thinking about how I'd rather just be talking to you. I hope sometime before the end of this tour we can hang out alone together again.

XO, frnk

You bit your lip to keep from squealing with delight.

~

The last few days of Warped Tour were just as much of a blur, and when that tour was over, you were quickly shipped off to another one. Gerard was struggling and the whole band was impacted. Everyone dealt with it in their own way, and luckily you had Frank to brush away the worried tears when your brain wouldn't quiet enough to let you sleep at night. 

Soon after, Gerard got the help he needed and when he rejoined the band, you were immediately sent back out on the road. Everything felt a little brighter that fall.

You and Frank were as good as ever, but still keeping your relationship quiet. His hand would find yours when no one else was around. You'd each sneak into each other's bunks and spend the nights cuddled together. Then there was the series of excuses as to why you two should share hotel rooms, which included Mikey texting too much, Ray talking too much, and Gerard keeping the light on all night drawing, among others.

So when you were blindsided with a migraine one morning, you were not at all pleased. The pain throbbed through your head as nausea rolled through your stomach. You groaned as you slid out of your bunk and stumbled to the front of the bus, which was obnoxiously bright, to the cabinet holding the medicine. 

"There's sleeping beauty," you heard Ray laugh, but you just grunted in response. You grabbed the bottle of Excedrin and silently prayed they'd do their job quickly as you took a dose.

"You ok?" Frank asked as you slumped down on the couch.

"No, migraine."

Your bandmates groaned, knowing how much of a pain, literally and figuratively, they were for you.

"So you don't wanna go grab lunch?" Mikey asked.

"Please don't make me think about food or I might get sick."

"Do you want me to stay back with you?" Frank offered. It didn't even register how much concern he was showing toward you.

"No, I just wanna sleep and hope it goes away before we have to play tonight."

"Ok, we'll leave you alone. Come on guys," Gerard said, shooing the guys out. You glanced up and saw Frank giving you a sympathetic look before leaving the bus.

You dragged yourself back to the bunks, closing the door to the main room behind you and looked at your bunk. There was no way in hell you were climbing back up into it. Instead climbed into Frank's. 

You pulled his blanket over you as you curled up in a ball facing the wall. His pillow smelled faintly of his shampoo, but not enough to make you feel sick, or maybe the medication was finally kicking in.

It felt like no sooner you'd fallen asleep that you heard voices in the front of the bus. You wondered how long you’d been out, but didn’t care enough to check the time. Before you could drift off again you heard the door opening and closing softly. Shuffling steps stopped behind you and then you felt someone climb in the bunk behind you.

"Hey," Frank said softly, his arm wrapping around your side.

"Hi," you answered, a smile forming on your face for the first time all day, not that he could see it.

"Feeling better?"

"A bit. Not 100% yet, but better than earlier."

"Mind if I nap with you?"

"Please do," you replied.

Frank drew the curtain shut and settled in behind you. He brushed aside your hair and placed a soft kiss on the side of your neck before giving you another quick squeeze.

You drifted back to sleep for a while, and when you woke up again, your headache was mostly gone you were relieved that you'd be able to play that night without feeling awful. As you stretched your legs out, Frank shifted, pulling you tighter against him.

"Better yet?" He murmured sleepily.

"Yea," you said, not moving more, afraid of disturbing the comfortable cocoon you two were in.

“So at lunch the guys were talking,” Frank started.

“‘Bout what?” You asked, rolling over.

“Us.”

“Oh?” Your heart rate going up.

“We went to this café for lunch and I got you a cupcake, it’s in the fridge by the way. And they were just wondering if there’s something going on between us.”

“What’d you say?”

“I just brushed it off, they were just giving me shit.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly feeling a little dejected.

“Do you still wanna keep us a secret?” He asked.

“I dunno," you mumbled. "Do you?”

Frank intertwined his fingers with yours. "It's been kinda fun this way. But I also kinda wanna tell everyone I know that I'm the luckiest dude in the world BECAUSE I'm with you."

“Let's decide later,” you replied. “For right this moment, let’s just enjoy this.”

"Good idea," he replied with a soft smile before leaning in and kissing you lovingly.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero fanfic #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance imagine

[awanderingdeal]

Summer camp AU - Chapter 5 - Remus

Finally an update to this! I found this chapter super hard to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy it!

CW: Food, implications of past toxic family relationships

Fic Rating: T

Please message me if you feel that any content warnings need to be added or the rating is not appropriate.

The characters in this fic belong to @lumosinlove and you should definitely go and check out her fics!

For previous and future chapters please see my masterlist

Remus moved tentatively as he climbed over Sirius, doing his best not to wake the other man. He wasn’t quite sure when Sirius had arrived, a vague memory of a muttered apology sometime during the early hours of morning surfacing, but he’d been asleep and barely registered it. He huffed a laugh at how Sirius had burrowed himself under the sheets, his inky black hair the only thing visible. The bed really wasn’t big enough for the two of them, and as much as Remus loved Sirius, his boyfriend leaked heat like a furnace. Still, soon the campers would be here and the two of them would have to set an example by not sneaking into one another’s accommodation so Remus savoured the company whilst he had it.

The air had already started to hold a damp heat when Remus stepped out, despite the amber hues of sunrise barely having lifted. A sweet breeze gave some welcome relief as he picked up a steady job, his muscles slowly waking to the chirping chorus of birds he couldn’t identify even with their daily meetings. Remus almost missed the flash of red hair hidden behind a tall pine tree, except for the hushed laugh that drags his attention away from a feisty squirrel he’d paused to watch. He rolls his eyes at the couple, an act he acknowledges is highly hypocritical considering the origins of his own relationship. The two kissed again, drawing the owner of the rough laughter into view and Remus startled. He peered closer, confirming his first observation - that was Kasey Winter, but the person he was with was most definitely not Natalie Darcy, Kasey’s girlfriend. Ordinarily, Remus would pretend he hadn’t witnessed anything, writing the situation off as none of his business, only both Kasey and Natalie were good friends of his. He pushed the dilemma to the back of his mind for now and pressed on with his run.

The work day had seemed unusually long, Remus learning the cruel lesson that even the most adored job became tiresome when you wanted to be somewhere else. Placing the final package of dressings in their drawer, Remus ticked the item off his checklist with a flourish. He looked around the nurses station, giving a satisfied nod and a self congratulatory smile; the place was really starting to come together. Now that he was finished for the day, Remus rolled his shoulders, letting himself relax.

Without the distraction of inventories and paperwork, Remus’ mind wandered to thoughts of Sirius. A phone call from a panicked parent needing reassurance the camp could, in fact, accommodate her child’s allergies had lasted long enough to result in him taking a late lunch, so Remus hadn't had a chance to talk to his boyfriend all day. He knew he could find Sirius in the drama studio, his phone having buzzed earlier with a message informing him of the fact Sirius would be there for the entire afternoon, only he didn’t want to alienate him from the other counsellors by spending all their time together. Traipsing back to the cabin to change out of his uniform, Remus shook off the doubt. There was a time for balance, but it wasn’t the day after your boyfriend reunited with their sibling after years apart.

Both Sirius and Heather jumped at Remus’s knock on the heavy wooden doorframe, the pair deep in conversation. “Oh, I believe that is my cue to leave,” Heather smiled, the expression settling something in Remus he hadn’t even realised needed settling.

“Thanks for all your help today, Heather.” Sirius accepted the broom she handed to him. “Both with this,” he continued, gesturing to the room around him, “and for the advice. You should consider a career as a therapist. Trust me, I should know.”

“Here I was antagonising over my future and Mr Sirius Black solved it in one afternoon,” Heather laughed, sticking her tongue out playfully. “It was no problem, way better than sorting out the games’ equipment shed, anyway. I can’t wait to see what your tiny theatre kids do in here.”

“They’re not tiny, they’re middle schoolers.”

“Exactly, middle schoolers. Tiny,” Remus agreed, stepping into the studio. It smelt of polish and other than a pile in the centre of the floor, any evidence of the years worth of dust that had been allowed to gather was gone.

“The key is not to let them know you think that,” Heather winked.

“This isn’t my first year, you know,” Sirius grumbled, his accent thickening the way it always did when he was even mildly inconvenienced, “Get out of here,” he shooed Heather off. “And talk to June! I definitely saw heart eyes this morning.”

“Well then, you need your eyes testing,” Heather retorted, leaving with a raised eyebrow and a peppy wave.

"Bonjour, mon loup,” Sirius sang, gathering Remus in his arms. At 5”11, Remus wasn’t even short, but Sirius could still easily prop his chin on the top of his head, albeit only briefly. A short breath of air left Sirius’ mouth, almost but not quite a laugh, and Remus found his chin being lifted for a kiss. "Come on, let's go and sit by the lake. I'll tell you everything."

Remus schooled his expression into the most innocent he could manage. "I was just going to ask how your day was."

"Sure." Sirius laughed properly now, the both of them stumbling slightly as he tried to nudge Remus' shoulder. "You're practically vibrating. Thought I was supposed to be the intense one?

“Sometimes it’s my turn,” Remus smirked, pointing out a large, flat rock in the distance that seemed like an ideal sitting place. Sirius nodded, letting Remus guide their slight change in trajectory to head towards it. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I will always be interested in your life, but if you want this to stay between you and Regulus then I completely understand.”

Sirius flicked his gaze over to Remus briefly, the smile soft on his face. It reminded Remus of when they had still been dancing around one another. Long evening walks where their hands would brush, just barely. Looking back, he didn’t know how they had lasted so long before that almost inevitable kiss. One thunderstorm and two leaking roofs, that was all it had taken in the end. “I know,” Sirius shrugged. Those were the last words he said until they reached the low slab, a once rugged thing that had been smoothed out by a lifetime of exposure. Remus thought there must be something poetic in it, but he was too tired to figure it out.

The quiet lasted long enough for Remus to figure Sirius had changed his mind, playing their hands together as they looked out onto the water.

“They live in California now, they’re here to teach archery and they are non - binary,” Sirius breathed out the sentence, the words blending together and his accent thick, but Remus was practised enough to decipher them.

“California? That’s a long way from Montreal -” Remus toyed with the sleeve of Sirius’ t-shirt. “ - How’d they end up there?”

Sirius' face crumpled a little, quickly gathering himself. “They were staying with a friend of our family’s there, Severus. He always seemed nice, nicer than the rest of their crowd anyway, but it turns out he’s no different to the rest of them. Regulus is trying to get out of there.” A sheepish smile spread over Sirius’ face. “I might have invited him to live with us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have asked first. They were just so worried and -”

“Hey,” Remus squeezed Sirius's hand. “I’m not going to pretend that a consultation wouldn’t have been nice, but it’s your house -”

“It’s our house,” Sirius frowned.

"The house was bought with your money and I can completely understand and appreciate why you offer a roof over your sibling's head without question."

Sirius played with the necklace, a silver lion, hanging around his throat. Remus lifted his hand to touch its twin, draped around his own neck. "Just like that? Even though I've spent every mention of them detailing how much they had hurt me?"

Turning to face Sirius more surely, Remus gave a comforting smile. "Do you trust them?"

There was a brief pause, but the "yes" that followed was sure and confident.

"That's good enough for me," Remus said. "Shall we go and join everybody for dinner? There's apple pie tonight."

Dinner ended up being the usual ruckus that Remus had become re-accustomed to over the past few days. He loved the way the dining room thrummed with the same energy that radiated throughout meals with his own family. Thomas and James' dares grew more and more ridiculous until Sergei barked at them that he wouldn’t allow them any more BBQ if they did not calm down.

“ -Yeah, so ma Maman had to come and collect me. I think I lasted 5 hours,” Jackson finished his grandiose retelling of his first experience at camp.”

“Nado!” Evgeni set his glass down with a heavy thud. Remus had learned the tall Russian man had the gentlest of spirits, but grace was not an attribute he possessed in large amounts. “Why you go to horse camp if scared of horses?”

“I was 8,” Jackson argued. “I had never seen a horse in real life. It just looked fun.”

Once the rippling laughter dissipated, the conversation evolved into useful hints of tips from those of them that weren’t new on how to handle similar situations with their own campers.

“Hey, Katie,” Remus leaned over Sirius to address the youngest of the Dumais’. She had only arrived yesterday along with her siblings and Sergei’s wife and children, but she’d made herself right at home, squeezing herself between Sirius and Logan, who she had declared her favourite, instead of joining the rest of her family at their table. “Can I steal Sirius please? I need to show him something.”

“It’s time for Katie to go with Anya back to our cabins,” Celeste interrupted. “Viens, ma chérie. Tu peux revenir demain matin.” Katie left with a pout to a round of goodbyes.

“What did you want to show me, mon loup?” Sirius cocked his head curiously.

“Nothing,” Remus admitted sheepishly. “I just wanted to get a good spot under the pavilion before everybody else finishes and comes outside.” Sirius rolled his eyes, letting Remus tug him into a standing position. During camp, the small structure would serve as a meeting point and could fit a dozen or so people in when they were standing, but it was pretty full with Sirius’ 6 foot 3 form sprawled across it, there wasn’t much space for anybody else, and this was Remus’ favourite spot. He could lie under the shelter, a little less exposed to the biting insects that seemed to love him so much and still see everybody on the green around them.

Soon, the space would be filled with eager children, and Remus would be constantly poised to treat the next ailment, but at the moment, he was content to watch this year's counsellors get to know one another better. He was an old hand at this now, however, he could remember the bristling excitement as his first training week had drawn to a close, the knowledge that he was soon to be responsible for people who didn't seem all that much younger than he was, both terrifying and exhilarating.

The sky had been threatening rain for hours now, and it finally fulfilled its promise.

“My hair!” Finn’s screech broke through the chorus of rain. The blonde boy, something in the back of Remus’ brain supplied him with the name Leo, immediately tucked Finn against his side, throwing his jacket over his head. Remus wasn’t sure whether their shaking was as a result of the damp seeping through their clothes or the pair’s laughter.

Remus had always enjoyed people watching, noticing the subtle intricacies of human behaviour when they didn’t realise you were looking, so he caught Leo’s small glance up at Logan just before he put some space between himself and Finn.

Finn wasn’t having any of it though, dragging Leo back to him, attempting to get the small jacket over the top of the both of them.

"Do you see that?" Remus lifted his shoulder, jostling Sirius slightly.

Sirius grunted, the annoying chime of the game he was playing sounding loudly as he progressed to another level. Remus had given up on complaining, and the repetitive nature of swiping candies across the screen seemed to relax Sirius more than it bothered Remus. "See what?"

Leo was standing now, his t-shirt soaked through and his hair plastered against his face in damp strands. Remus couldn't quite work out what he spluttered before walking off with long, quick strides, one last quick look at Logan as he went.

"There's something going on there,' Remus hummed.

"Stop meddling," Sirius laughed.

"I'm not meddling!"

Sirius turned a raised eyebrow on Remus and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jacket before pulling them both down so they lay on their backs. "Listen. I love the sound of the rain."

Remus knew he was being distracted, but the thudding rhythm of heavy droplets against the wooden slats of the rood was incredibly relaxing. Or at least it was until the sheeting downpour didn't stop and they had to dart through it, laughter heaving in their chests to meet the others in the large hall. Celeste sighed, bundling towels into their hands to dry off.

"Nice of you to join us, gentlemen," Dumo said, a guitar propped in his lap. "Take a seat. We were just about to teach our newcomers a few campfire songs. Sans the fire, of course. As two of our most experienced, maybe you could lead?”

“Je te hais,” Sirius grumbled.

Dumo ignored the declaration, and once they were seated he smiled. “Perhaps we will start with Everywhere we go?”

Despite an early reluctance from Sirius the sounds of the song were soon echoing off the walls, the group of counsellors enthusiastically answering Sirius’ calls.

Everywhere we go

Everywhere we go

People always ask us

People always ask us

Who we are

Who we are

And where we come from

And where we come from

So we tell them

So we tell them

We’re the Lions

We’re the Lions

The mighty mighty Lions

The mighty mighty Lions

And if they can’t hear us

And if they can’t hear us

We shout a little louder

We shout a little louder!

Dumo was lenient, taking over leading them through a few more songs himself until he faked a large yawn. “Well, it’s bed time for me. I’ll leave the guitar for anybody who wants to play. And remember, no matter how much we try to teach our campers such fun songs, they’d rather learn whatever routine is popular on Tip Top or whatever that thing is called, so be prepared!”

Logan commandeered the guitar quickly, holding it strong against his thigh and strumming it with a relaxed ease Remus wasn't sure he'd seen in the man before. He played through a few songs, others slowly filtering out as time went by until only a handful of people remained.

“Do my song, please?” Finn asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Logan shook his head, “Not here.”

Finn’s lower lip dropped into a pout and Remus saw the exact moment Logan succumbed to the expression. Remus didn’t blame him at all, Finn’s face bore an eerie resemblance to Bambi and only a monster could deny it.

“Fine.”

The slow chords started and the room quieted as Logan began to sing. It was more romantic than Remus had expected from the younger man.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

Logan and Finn were so invested in one another that Remus wasn’t sure they noticed Leo slipping quietly from the room.

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #logan tremblay #leo knut #finn o'hara #natalie darcy #kasey winter #alex o'hara #celeste dumais #pascal dumais #sergei ivanov #sirius black #remus lupin #regulus black #dima krupin #james potter #lily evans #thomas walker #noelle tremblay #rating: t #cw:food #cw: toxic family

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

someone behind me was tracing my steps / maybe you’re better off this way

Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki

Characters: Asakura Takeshi, Kido Shinji

Songs: "After the Fall," October Project & "Passive," A Perfect Circle (playlist here)

Takeshi’s sitting against the wall, bleeding out, and the mirror guy—Kanzaki, right—is standing over him, mouth twisted in something he vaguely recognizes as dismay. “I can’t use this, there’s barely any energy left,” he says, not to Takeshi, and there sure as hell isn’t anyone else in the room. “I’ll have to reset.”

“Hang on a second.” Takeshi coughs and feels his mouth fill up with the taste of copper, which isn’t such a bad flavor when you get down to it. “What about my wish?”

Kanzaki doesn’t even look at him, already fucking around with the mirror. “You don’t want anything, there’s no point.”

“Sure I want something.”

“…what on Earth could you want at this point? It’s all going to be reset anyway.”

Takeshi grins up at him, knowing that it’s sure to be an unnerving sight with his teeth all over blood. “Lemme remember.”

“Out of the question. Giving one participant unnecessary foreknowledge would interfere with the procedure.”

“Nah, nah, I’m not gonna interfere with shit. It was just a hell of a time.” Takeshi looks up just as Kanzaki is looking down and grins his bloody grin a little wider. “I like to remember times when I had fun. Looking forward to doing it over again. Let me remember.”

---

It’s not until he graduates university that Shinji realizes that he’s missing something.

Slightly after, really. He graduates, he works some shitty part-time gigs, he does some freelancing, and then Ookubo gets in touch and offers him a job at Ore Journal. That’s all fine, but when he steps through the door of the Ore offices he’s hit with a wave of déjà vu so powerful that he nearly trips and falls face-first into Reiko’s desk. Fortunately he catches himself before anyone notices. It had been bad enough trying to explain to his mother about the girl who lived in his mirror when he was thirteen; he can’t imagine how the people here would react to, “I remember walking into this room for the first time at least eight times over.”

He gets a grip on himself, but the feeling of loss stays. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what. Sometimes he’ll get a glimpse of it, he’ll pass someone on the street or overhear a snatch of conversation and a fragment of memory will overwhelm him, but he never gets everything.

From the bits that he sees, he’s not sure that he wants to get everything. It might be better to be missing something than to remember.

---

Takeshi’s known that he’s missing something for a long time now, and whatever it is, he wants it back.

He’s not exactly an educated guy, but he knows himself pretty well, and the idea that there’s a big chunk of him missing is galling. He can feel its absence. He can’t tell what it is, it hasn’t got any kind of useful shape, no edges that he can detect, but it’s his. And since he wouldn’t just go carving out part of himself, that means he’s been robbed.

He doesn’t take kindly to being robbed.

Mostly, though, he can ignore it, the way you ignore a hole in the wall that you don’t feel like repairing yet. He does what he likes, gets what he wants, eats when there’s food, and doesn’t think about it unless he reaches for something in his mind and finds that it isn’t there.

And then he sees the journalist.

Some sweet-faced kid, he is, showing up at a bar that Takeshi likes and bugging the regulars about a local ghost story that Takeshi knows for a fact is bullshit. He doesn’t try coming over to Takeshi’s corner, because the bartender visibly warns him off, but he’s talking to everyone else. That suits Takeshi fine. He can just sit with his drink and watch and remember, in shards and splinters, tantalizing and incomplete.

Kido Shinji is what’s printed on the business card he swipes from the bartender once the journalist leaves, with the address of a tea shop written on the back in pen.

Now there’s a name that rings a bell.

He stares down at the card for a moment, not sure whether he’s pleased or furious, and then heads out. Guy couldn’t have gone far.

---

Shinji gets through the door and is immediately handed an apron and a bandana for his hair. “Dishes.”

“What—Ren, I just got here.”

“Yeah, and there are dirty dishes. I don’t have time to deal with them, there are customers.” Ren squints at him for a moment, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Shinji pauses in the middle of tying back his hair, uneasy. “I’ll tell you once there aren’t customers. Where’s Miyu—he’s still working, ok.”

Ren rolls his eyes. “Apparently that middle schooler who was here last week told all of her friends about him, he’s been busy all day.”

There are a lot of dishes piled up, and it keeps Shinji busy until Ren’s shooing out the last customers of the day. Atori’s different without the old lady, but it’s not a bad different; hopefully she’s happy in whatever warm place she moved to after she sold the shop to Ren. She’d certainly never seemed happy here.

He’s happy here. In a stable place, with a little bit of stable work apart from Ore, with people who inexplicably love him for reasons that none of them quite remember clearly.

When the last customer is out the door, Ren leans back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and says, “So something’s bothering you, spit it out.”

Shinji frowns down into the dishwater. “I think someone was following me again today.”

“What, again? How long’s this been going on now, two weeks?”

“Three and a half. Ever since that thing I was looking into about the ghost, do you remember that one?” One saucer in the dish rack, start washing the next piece. “Maybe I pissed off the ghost.”

“You said there wasn’t a ghost.”

“Well, yeah, but what if there was and now it’s following me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not being chased by a ghost.”

Shinji glances nervously over his shoulder, as if he’ll see his ghost reflected in the tea shop window. “How can we be sure, though?” He picks up another dirty cup and starts to wash it. “Some of the things I remember…”

Ren’s arms wrap around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “They aren’t here,” more softly and gently than he usually speaks. “No ghosts. Just you, me, and Miyuki.”

“No ghosts.” Shinji takes a deep breath. “You’re right. No ghosts.”

---

The place isn’t tough to break into. Decent locks, but nothing Takeshi can’t get past with a crowbar. He lets himself in and looks around the vaguely-familiar tea shop with interest before heading past the counter and to the back. Stairs lead up to the apartment above, and sure, they creak a little, but that’s nothing to worry about. After all, he’s still got the crowbar if he really needs it.

Upstairs, the place is chaotic in sort of a cute way, decorated as it is by three people with clearly pretty different sensibilities, fragments of three very different lives on display. It smells faintly of frying oil, too. Someone made something good for dinner tonight. On a whim, he checks the fridge, finds a container of leftover gyoza, and eats them absently as he contemplates the shopping list stuck to the freezer door. Eggs, rice, sliced pork belly, in neat handwriting that definitely isn’t Kido’s.

He finishes the gyoza and the tail-end of a carton of milk, leaving the empty containers behind on the counter and picking up his crowbar again as he heads toward the back of the apartment.

There are three bedrooms, and none of them are marked, doors closed against the darkened hallway. Checking each one would be a hassle, and might lead to more trouble than Takeshi feels like getting in right now. Instead he just remembers how jumpy Kido seemed even before Takeshi started following him and lets intuition lead him to the room closest to the fire escape.

The door swings open, and the first thing he sees is a cloth square on the wall. A covered mirror.

There we go.

Kido’s asleep, sprawled across the bed with his head tossed back and his hair spread out on his pillow, throat pale and exposed. Alone, which makes things a little easier. There’s a computer desk set up in the corner of the room; Takeshi grabs the chair from it, drags it over next to the bed, and sits, resting the end of the crowbar on the floor as he’s saying, softly and cheerfully, “Hey, Kido. Wake up.”

A shift, an irritated mumble, “Not time to—” and then one eye opening halfway and the jolt, Kido scrambling upright in the bed, one hand flung out to the side reaching for something that isn’t there.

What isn’t there?

Splinters reform into another regained memory: a deck of cards in an elaborate case, gleaming purple metal smooth and cool in Takeshi’s hands. There’s a name that goes with it, or maybe more than one, faint and still lost but centimeters from the tip of his tongue.

Kido’s gone white as a pan of milk, hand still empty because they’re in a world with no decks, now, no monsters that Takeshi suddenly remembers with fondness, not nearly as much fun, and Takeshi leans forward on his crowbar and smiles, friendly, like, and says, “Come on, Kido, I remember you being more interesting.”

---

Shinji can hear his heart beating over the ringing in his ears. There’s a bit of light coming in from between the mostly-closed curtains, just enough to see by, and with his hand coming up empty and his unwelcome guest illuminated so that only golden hair and white teeth are visible, he is assailed by memory.

He knows this man.

From the corner of the bar where he’d been looking into that ghost story, sure, the one the bartender had told him not to bother, but also from before, from ten befores or more. A killer, vicious and cheerfully so, dangerous to be around, but beneath the adrenaline thrum Shinji can feel another pulse, pity, pity, pity, perhaps misplaced but still there.

He fights to get his breathing under control and says, “Asakura. What are you doing here?”

“You took something of mine.” Asakura’s head tilts slowly to the side, semi-friendly grin still visibly. “I came to get it back.”

“I don’t have anything of yours.”

“Never said you did. I said you took it. Didn’t say I thought you had it.”

“That…you know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“None of this makes sense, Kido. We live in a world that revolves around a guy like you.” Asakura leans forward, one hand darting out to grab Shinji’s chin, ragged nails digging into his skin. In the dim light his eyes are flat and dark and predatory as their gazes lock, only taking on any gleam as he drinks in…something, whatever he’s getting from looking at Shinji like this. Shinji nearly asks, in fact, but he can’t quite speak, and anyway Asakura’s talking again, still as cheery and conversational as he has been. “Used to be, I got the deck in my hands and I’d remember all of it. That was the deal. Don’t know how the mirror guy finally bit it, but whatever happened, you’re the key to everything now.”

Shinji’s considering shouting for Ren, because even if he did have a dragon at his beck and call, the mirror is covered. Then, of course, he notices the crowbar. And Asakura continues to look at him, searching for something that Shinji is apparently giving him.

“Pathetic.” Abruptly, Asakura lets go again. “You used to be fun, Kido.” He stands, shouldering the crowbar like a baseball bat, and heads for the open bedroom door, only pausing briefly to say, “Call me if you ever decide to get the band back together, yeah?”

Shinji remains frozen for what seems like a long time after he’s gone, dizzy with memory and his heartbeat noisy in his own ears.

He doesn’t remember the end of things. None of the ends of things, actually, and he’s not sure if the others know that it happened more than once, how many times they were put through the same wringer. Whatever it was, though, whatever he or they finally did, it was permanent.

He never would have expected someone to resent him for it.

Finally he finds the focus to move, raising a hand to rub at the sore spots on his jaw before getting out of bed.

Miyuki’s bed is disturbed by unoccupied, and this fills him with a banked and indistinct dread until he comes to Ren’s room and finds them both there, Miyuki sprawled as inelegantly as always and snoring lightly at Ren’s side. Ren is awake, barely. “Bad dreams all around tonight, I guess,” he slurs as Shinji closes the door, and moves over to make space. “Wha’ was yours about?”

Shinji curls up beside him and says, softly, “Just ghosts.”

---

Takeshi strolls down the middle of the empty street, crowbar on his shoulder, in such a good mood now that he’s very nearly whistling. It’s a damp night; the streetlights make shadows in the fog that look like old friends he now remembers, any number of enormous beasts stalking him as he walks. Which makes him want to laugh, and so he laughs, and the sound bounces off the buildings and the fog in an echo that could go on forever.

“Goddamn,” he says to a fog-reflection that shifts and changes with every step he takes, now a vast snake, now a rhino, now a stingray. “That was a good time, wasn’t it.”

The fog makes no reply, but the shadow continues to follow him down the street as the echoes of his laughter die away, and after a moment, feeling almost jaunty, he starts to whistle.

#kido shinji #asakura takeshi #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Flower

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: Aww I loved the one shot with mother nature and Warren! I loved how her eyes turned pink, when she saw Warren! I'd like to know more about them. Could you give us a little fluffy glimpse into their relationship? Thank you, my dear! You're amazing! 💕

Warnings: language, brief nudity, mention of vaping, and underage drinking (everyone is 18+ unless stated otherwise)

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: I haven’t written anything in awhile but I’m trying to get back into things! Also I know this isn’t a glimpse into their relationship but I’m going to write some cute fluffy date one shots for them

Warren’s heart was pounding as he watched her from across the room. She was all he could think about, the class had no interest for him at the moment. He wanted to spend every second of his day with her, basking in her aura, living through every cliche they checked off together— 

“Warren?” 

“Huh?” He lost his train of thought and looked up at the teacher.

“What’s so important you’re not focusing on the board?” 

  “Oh, uh, nothing. Nothing, sorry.” A few kids snickered, and the teacher told them to stop, before continuing with the lecture.

“Now, does anyone know when the Cold War ended?”

Warren kept his head down and quickly scribbled down notes. 

(Y/N) raised her hand and was called on. “1991.”

Warren glanced at her again, reality sinking in for him…

Warren and (Y/N) were not dating. They were just friends. 

Sure, they’d kissed twice and held hands once, but so did most middle schoolers in their first relationship. 

Warren sighed and wrote down key facts about the fall of the Berlin wall.

Her eyes never faltered from their bright and soft pink hue when around him though— which meant she still liked him, despite what his mind told him at two in the morning. 

Scott and Jubilee told him he just needed to “ask her out.” 

Easier said than done. 

He didn’t want to just “ask her out”. He wanted to know her favorite color, the handful of youtube videos she would listen to for background noise while doing homework or tending to plants, her favorite comfort meal— Warren wanted more than the usual comfort he had with their friends, sitting in the group, not saying much, zoning out often. (Y/N) trusted him and saw the good in him. Warren wanted to prove her right— that he was more than his past mistakes and scars. 

He needed to spend more time with her, like when they finished their history paper and ate grilled cheese and played never have I ever. 

He wanted more of that, but he had no idea how to ask for it. 

—

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Scott asked for the millionth time.

“I have no interest in a house party,” Warren responded dryly. “I don’t like parties, and I’m trying to quit drinking.” 

“But you hardly ever go out with us!” Kurt complained. 

“I won’t have fun. I have no reason to go.” 

Scott sighed, ready to leave Warren be until someone came into the room.

“Oh my gosh, Scott, Warren, hi!” She greeted them, clearly not expecting to run into them.

“Kurt, Jubilee wanted to borrow your Thriller jacket. Not for tonight, but tomorrow, and I told her I’d tell you if I saw you…” 

“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just give it to her now.” Kurt walked over to his closet. 

“So… Warren…” (Y/N) fidgeted with her hands.

He immediately perked up, “Yeah?” 

“Are you— um, I don’t know if someone already said— but are you going to the party tonight?” 

“Are you?” He was sure she could hear his heart beating in his chest like a drum solo in an 80s hair band song. 

“Yeah! I almost always go to parties.” 

“Oh…” Maybe he would have fun if he went out for once in his life. “Yeah, I’m going.”

“That’s great!” (Y/N) was a little too enthusiastic and tried to hide her excitement with her words. “Um, we could maybe hang out then?”

 “Yeah, yeah, uh, sounds good.” 

“Great! I’ll see you later…” Warren nodded and hummed in reply. Kurt was long gone, having gone to Jubilee’s room to give her his red jacket. 

(Y/N) bid Scott goodbye and left.

“I can’t believe it…” Scott was utterly dumbfounded. All (Y/N) had to do was mutter a few words and just like that— Warren was going to the party. Warren never went to house parties with the group. 

“You never go to house parties.”

“First time for everything… Now get out, I wanna shower before we leave.” 

“Fine, fine.” Scott raised his hands in defense. “I’m leaving.”

Soon as the door shut, Warren ran to the bathroom to shower. 

He began to run shampoo through his hair and lather. Then he moved onto conditioning his ends, letting it sit for a while as he washed his body with soap and an exfoliator. 

Warren rinsed out the conditioner, and hopped out of the shower, scrunching the ends of his hair with a towel. He left them semi-damp and quickly washed his face, brushed his teeth, and put on deodorant. 

He didn’t bother to wrap a towel around his waist as he went to his closet to pick out something to wear. 

“Jeans and a t-shirt?” Warren held a David Bowie tee in his hands, before throwing it on his bed. “What was that thing Jubilee said?... Accessorize?... Do I own accessories?” 

Warren opened his desk drawer to try and see if he even owned any. 

He had a few old chains and some silver rings. 

“These should work… but is a t-shirt too plain? Should I do better? Would a black turtleneck look nicer?” 

Warren put his clothes and accessories on and looked in the mirror. “Yeah, yeah this looks good.” 

Warren dug in his closet a bit more, looking for something specific. 

Cologne. “Is this too much? I never wear this.”  He grabbed his phone and googled “where to apply cologne”. 

He rolled up his sleeves and starting applying a little to his wrists, forearms, and neck. “That should be good.”  Warren looked at his reflection in the mirror, running a hand through his hair before heading downstairs to meet up with his friends.

—

“She just bat her eyes and suddenly Warren decided to go to the party,” Scott explained to his girlfriend and her roommate as they got ready for the party. 

“Well, he likes her, Scott.” Jean pointed out.

“I’m just shocked—”

“We could get her to get him to do anything…” Jubilee thought out loud.

“Yeah, but (Y/N)’s too nice. She wouldn’t want to abuse the power she has over him, and she’s probably unaware of it anyway.”

“Do we have enough room in the car?” Jubilee asked as she applied mascara. 

“Kurt said he and Ororo were going to teleport and get there a bit earlier than the rest of us,” Scott said face looking down at his phone.

Jubilee rolled her eyes.  

“I think Noah’s going,” Jean offered up as she slipped her socks on.

“I might get him to play seven minutes in heaven with me.”

Scott squinted his eyes. “Noah Fence? He smells like mango-flavored vape.”

“He doesn’t actually vape— his sister does and her car broke so he’s been driving her to swim practice and stuff.” 

“Still, it’s gross.” 

Jubilee glared at him through the mirror, “You’re gross.” 

Jean shut down the argument before it could escalate, “Are you guys ready to go?” 

“Yeah.”

“Yep.”

“Good, let’s go.”

—

Warren ran into (Y/N) as he was heading to the garage. 

“Hey,” He greeted her. 

“Oh, hi! You look nice...” Her eyes were pink as she looked at him. A constant reminder of the feelings looming over them.  

“Oh— oh. Uh, thanks.” Warren’s face was slightly flushed from the compliment. 

“You smell nice too… Not that you don’t smell nice all the time!” Her eyes went fully purple in embarrassment. “Or that you’re gross— you just smell really nice tonight— um, I’m just going to stop talking. Uh, sorry.” 

“No, you’re fine. Um, thank you.” Warren bit his lip and fidgeted with his hands as he and (Y/N) waited for the others to get to the garage. 

(Y/N) awkwardly nodded and was silent, refusing to meet his eyes. 

Oh god… Warren thought to himself. She probably thinks I look scary… I should have just worn a hoodie and called it a day… She’s not going to want to be around me all night and then I’ll—

As the rest of the group entered the garage Jean interrupted his train of thought to explain (Y/N)’s demeanor. 

“She’s flustered, Bird Brain… She thinks you look hot.” 

“Oh… What?” 

Jean rolled her eyes and called out “Shotgun!” So she could sit next to Scott on the ride there. 

“I’m not sitting in the middle,” Jubilee said as she opened the car door.

“Fine,” (Y/N) sighed. “I’ll sit in the middle… Warren, do you want the left or right side?” 

“I don’t care.” Warren was nervous to sit next to (Y/N). He knew it would be perfect for them to make small talk, but Warren had no idea what to talk about. 

Jubilee sat on (Y/N)’s right, so Warren had to sit on the left. 

“Can I have the aux cord?” Jubilee asked. 

“No,” Scott said, waiting for everyone to put on seatbelts before pulling out of Xaiver’s large garage. “You had it last time, and all you did was play songs from Phinneas and Ferb.”

“Yeah, because they’re major bops!”

“Who’s Phinneas and Ferb?” Warren whispered to (Y/N).

She gasped, “You’ve never seen Phinneas and Ferb?” 

Warren shook his head, “No?”

“What?” Scott asked. “It’s a classic— you know Perry the Platipus and Dr. Doofensmurzt.” 

“Uh…” Warren was extremely confused.

“Oh my god!  We need to have a Phinneas and Ferb marathon! Me, you,” (Y/N) Poked Warren’s arm.  “Pizza, some breadsticks— we could do it next weekend.”

“Sure. I’m not busy.” If Warren knew not watching some kid show about a platypus growing up would lead to him spending more time with (Y/N), possibly alone, he would have said something sooner.

“Were you one of those kids who only watched PBS? Jean asked.

“The channel with all those British dramas?”

“No no, PBS kids— Arthur, Martha Speaks, Cyberchase, those shows?”

“Never heard of them,” Warren awkwardly admitted. 

“What’d you watch as a kid then?” 

“Um, a lot of old black and white movies… Psycho, M, Frankenstein, Vampyr… My mom really liked them, and we had a bunch so…” Warren shrugged. 

“Wait you watched those as a kid?” Jubilee asked. “How old were you?”

“Like eight? I dunno. That’s just what I grew up with.” 

“Hey, so uh, I just googled whatever M is. And uh— what the fuck?” Saying (Y/N) was shocked would be an understatement.  

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? Like, do you need a hug? I’m very worried for you. Maybe we should go home and watch like kids cartoons or something—”

Warren couldn’t understand why she was so upset, but he knew she was extremely bothered. (Y/N) rarely swore. 

“It’s a good movie to teach kids about stranger danger,” Warren explained what his parents told him.

“It’s about a man murdering children!” 

“(Y/N), almost all kids watch a scary movie or two—” Scott misread the situation. “Alex let me watch The Exorcist when I was 10.” 

“Scary?” Warren asked Scott. “I didn’t—”

“What do you know! We are finally here!” Jean cut off Warren, glaring at Scott. 

“Let’s go find Ororo and Kurt— I think Sarah Byer was bringing white claws.”

Warren was a little unsure about the party once he stepped out of the car. He’d worked hard to stay sober for a few months and he didn’t want to break his streak. 

But (Y/N) grabbed his hand as they walked toward the sound of Travis Scott playing through speakers, and he decided to devote his night to her completely. 

After all, she was the only reason he eve agreed to come.

“Ever been to a house party before?” (Y/N) asked. 

“No, but I went to clubs in Germany. It’s the same right?”

“Yeah, I’d think so. Except no one is 21, and there’s chanting depending on if the host’s school won their weekend football game or not.” 

Warren smiled at (Y/N)’s joke. “The drinking age in Germany is 16. I wasn’t even carded when I went to places.” (Y/N) snickered as she fixed herself a drink. 

“That’s Smirnoff, can you handle that?” Warren was concerned, to say the least. He’d never seen (Y/N) drink, or even drunk. 

But you know what they say, “First time for everything.”

“I’m not going to have it without a chaser! Look, I know I don’t really drink, but I deserve this. I had a very hard week— one of the new students set my painting for class on fire, and now I have to start over and it’s worth 30% of my grade. I’m going to let loose a little.” 

Warren sighed, “Just don’t chug it. Speaking from experience.” 

“Thanks, Birdie.” 

Warren’s insides felt fuzzy at the sound of the nickname but blamed it on the loud environment. 

(Y/N) took a few sips before grabbing Warren’s hand again and dragging him into another room of the house. “Come on! There are some kids from Bayville I want to introduce you too.” 

—

(Y/N) found a mixed group of Xavier and Bayville students and had her and Warren join the conversation.

“Guys, this is Warren,” (Y/N) introduced him to the group.

A few hellos and names were given out for Warren and he just smiled and waved. 

“(Y/N) you look different, like not bad, but like different—” A girl with a split dye said.

“I’ve got more flowers in my hair.” 

“It might be the lighting, but your eyes look different…”

“Oh, uh, yeah…” (Y/N) took a large sip from her cup and avoided the other girl’s gaze as her eyes went from pink to purple. “New color, haha.”

Warren was blushing, thinking it was his fault she was so embarrassed. 

The girl with the split dye looked at him and then it clicked in her mind, “Oh… Oh…! Cute, cute.” 

“Shut up!” (Y/N) joking told her. “We’re just friends…” 

Warren tried to hide his nervousness with a half-assed chuckle, “Yep.”

“Whatever, I’m going to look for Kurt.” 

The girl walked off and several people from the group had wandered away as well. 

(Y/N) took another large sip of her drink. “Um, do you like, want to see what like Jubilee is doing or something? We don’t just have to stand around…” Her head started to feel heavy, but she ignored the feeling.

“Sure. Lead the way.” (Y/N) smiled and interlaced her fingers with his, dragging him into the main room. 

Jubilee was in the den with a few other kids playing truth or dare. 

“Hey, guys, can we join?” 

“Hey! (Y/N)! Sure, but I want an orange.” 

She giggled and sat down on the ground, Warren copying her movement. (Y/N) held her hand out for a moment, focusing on the orange growing in the palm of her hand. 

“Is a cutie good? All I can do right now,” She huffed.

“Yeah, that’s good.” She handed the mini orange over and officially joined the game. 

“Jubilee,” Some guy with glasses and a sports team t-shirt said. “I dare you to kiss Noah!”

“Pfft… Easy.” Noah was sitting to her left, so all Jubilee had to do was turn to face him, grab his shirt, and pull him into her, smashing her lips against his drunkenly and aggressively. 

The group let out drunken cheers and someone even wolf-whistled. 

Warren considered getting a drink, for he was way too sober for all of this. But he remembered (Y/N) had been drinking. A lot. What if something happened to her? What if she blacked out? What if she threw up? Warren didn’t want to risk it just so some silly house party could be more bearable for him. 

“I said kiss him not swallow his face!”

“You didn’t specify.” Jubilee shot back. “My turn!... (Y/N), truth, or dare.”

Someone booed. “She only picks truth.” 

(Y/N) swallowed more of the liquid in her cup before answering. “Nu-uh! Jube, I pick dare.”

“I dare you to take your bra off for the rest of the night!”

Warren’s eyes widened a little as she reached behind her back under her top to unclasp her bra. 

“Wooo!” A few people cheered.   

“Take your top off too.” One of the guys joked. Warren shot him a dirty look and the guy got very quiet and looked away. 

My scary looks actually came in handy. 

(Y/N) and Warren played for a few more rounds, but by then the game was getting kind of boring for (Y/N) and she wanted to do something else. 

“Ooo! Warren they’re playing a really good song, come on!” She dragged him out of the den and to the main room.

He didn’t recognize the song, but it wasn’t bad. (Y/N) quickly chugged everything left in her cup and handed it along with her bra to Warren. “Can you hold these? Please…?” 

Warren couldn’t say no, even if he wanted to. 

(Y/N) started drunkenly dancing along to the beat, having the time of her life. Warren moved a little bit with her, a bit more aware of his surroundings and socially awkward. 

“Loosen up!” She giggled. 

“I’m sober.” 

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun! C’mere—” She took his arms and guided them to wrap around her waist, forcing him to keep up with her drunken swaying. She guided his hands down to her ass, despite having her bra and empty cup in one of them.

“Woah!” Warren quickly moved his hands away from her ass.

(Y/N)’s eyes turned grey and purple. “Sorry… I thought you’d like that…” 

“Maybe when you haven’t had two cups full of vodka.”

“They weren’t full. There was lemonade and some mint leaves in there.” 

Warren nodded, going with what she was saying, “Uh-huh.” 

“I’m serious! You— you saw me! What— Whatever… Let’s keep dancing.” 

Warren obliged and they danced together for a few more songs. Mostly just (Y/N) waving her hands around and Warren making sure she didn’t trip— but dancing nonetheless. 

“Hey, I’m—” (Y/N)’s hand flew to her mouth and she stood still for a moment. 

“Hey, hey—” Warren put his hand on her back. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?” 

“No, no, I’m fine! I’m fine…” She tried to drunkenly reassure him. 

“Maybe we should go home. It’s late and I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Aww… Birdie…” 

“I’m going to text the group chat to let them know we’re leaving. We can get an uber or something.”

 Warren

(Y/N) almost puked I’m taking her back to the mansion.

 Jubilee

Get that plussy!, you sexi Draco Malfoy type 

 Jean

No offense is going home too! He lives near Xaiver’s ask for a ride 

 Jean

*Noah Fence

 Warren took (Y/N) outside and saw Noah on the front porch. “Hey, Noah.”

“Hey! Warren, right?” Warren nodded.

“Hi, Noahhhhhh…” (Y/N) slurred out. “Jubilee thinks you’re really cute…” 

Noah chuckled, “I know, we kissed during truth or dare. Remember?” 

(Y/N) squinted her eyes, deep in thought. “You did?” 

“Uh-huh...” He met Warren’s gaze, “You guys need a ride?”

“Yeah, Jean said you lived near Xavier’s?” 

Noah nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I live in the neighborhood over.” 

Warren opened the passenger door for (Y/N) and helped her step in the car. 

“You can sit in the front if you want, more space.” Noah offered.

 “I’m okay. Thanks though.” 

“Okay.” Noah turned his car on, the radio automatically playing. He quickly turned it off before backing out of his parking spot and heading onto the road of the neighborhood.

(Y/N) was starting to fall asleep on the ride home. Her eyes slowly closing, and her head falling to the side, resting on Warren’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her to make it more comfortable.   

The tension between the two boys made the car ride a bit awkward.

“So… uh, Jubilee said this was your first house party with (Y/N).” 

“Yep.”

“Are you guys like dating or…?”

“Um…” No was technically the right answer, but it didn’t feel right. (Y/N) and Warren had kissed, twice. And her eyes were still pink around him no matter what. She liked him and he liked her. 

Warren really needed to grow a pair and just say “Screw best friends to lovers” or whatever he used as an excuse as to why he put off asking her out. 

“It’s complicated…” He told Noah.

“Ah… I see…”

“Yeah, I don’t know—”

“No, I get it. I get it. Jubilee and I never really put labels on whatever we are, and like, I’m cool with it. But it gets weird sometimes. I dunno…” 

Warren awkwardly chuckled, “Yeah… Relationships are… complicated.”

Noah pulled into the front through the gates, stopping his car to let Warren and (Y/N) out. 

“(Y/N)...” Warren gently nudged her awake.

“Hmmm… What?”

“We’re home. You gotta wake up.” 

“Aw…” 

Warren opened the car and helped her out. “Thanks for the ride, Noah.”

“Yeah, no problem! See you guys later.”

“See ya.”

Noah drove away as Warren and (Y/N) went through Xavier’s garage to enter the mansion. 

“Where—Where’s my bra?” (Y/N) cupped her breasts in confusion as they walked up the stairs to the dorm floor. 

“You took it off and gave it to me.” 

“Oh…” (Y/N) looked at the bra warren had hanging from his forearm. “You can keep it…” 

“I don’t— I don’t have boobs.” 

“Oh…” Her face fell. 

“Ah!” A light went off in her mind. “You have pecs though.” 

Warren blushed, “Yeah, but, you need  this more than me.” 

(Y/N) sighed as she opened the door to her room. “Fine… set it on the desk.” She kicked her shoes off. 

“Want to grab your toothbrush?” He asked.

“I’m tired…”

“I know, but you’ll thank me later if you at least brush your teeth.” 

“Fine.” She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste out of a bag.   

“We can use my bathroom. That way I’ll stop you from falling asleep at the sink.” 

“Lead the way, Birdie.” Warren obliged, and led her out of her room towards his. (Y/N) quietly linked her pinkie with his. Toothbrush in her other hand.  

Warren’s heart fluttered inside his ribcage. 

He quietly opened the door and turned the light on. (Y/N) followed him inside. 

They both went into the bathroom, (Y/N) standing in front of the sink, and Warren sitting on the closed toilet like it was a chair.  

She stood there, looking in the mirror for a moment. 

“You good?” Warren asked, thinking she zoned out.

“Yeah…” (Y/N) nodded. “My eyes are really pretty… I like the pink...” She looked at Warren and grinned. 

“You’re so drunk.” He teased.

“I am.” (Y/N) turned the water on and wet her toothbrush, then put the toothpaste on, before bringing it up to her mouth.  

 She didn’t do a great job at brushing her teeth, her hands tired and she kept laughing at nothing, but she still brushed them nonetheless. 

(Y/N) rinsed her toothbrush off when finished. She yawned, and Warren stood up. 

“Need me to carry you?” He offered.

“Oh…” Her eyes turned purple. “I’m too big…” 

Warren shrugged, “I can lift like five-hundred pounds, you’ll be like a flower in my arms.”  

She looked at him, tired and eyes wide, “Okay.” 

Warren scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, and carried her back to her room. (Y/N) buried her face into his chest, enjoying the moment in a haze. 

Warren left the light off and set (Y/N) on her bed. 

(Y/N) took her pants off, throwing them on the floor along with her top. 

Warren’s eyes widened— he looked into her eyes— avoiding glancing down and overstepping boundaries. 

“Why do you keep starring at my face?” She asked as she plugged her phone in. 

“Uh, you don’t, um… I don’t— you’re naked.”

“Oh! I’m naked!” (Y/N) quickly got under her covers and drew them up to her neck. 

Warren chuckled lightly at her antics, “Yeah. You are.” 

(Y/N) yawned and shifted in her bed, getting comfortable. 

“Do you have water and pain killers?” 

“Uh-huh… my bag.” She mumbled.

“Take those in the morning, okay?” 

“Mhmm…” She hummed.

“Okay…” Warren patted her head. “Goodnight, Flower.” 

“Goodnight…”

Once Warren had left, (Y/N) felt like she melted into mush under her blanket. 

He called me Flower… and he pet my head… I think I’m in love with him…

She quickly fell asleep after that, with the moment playing on loop in her tired mind. 

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington oneshot #angel x reader #archangel x reader #warren worthington iii oneshot #x-men x reader #xmen x reader #x men x reader #x-men oneshot #mother nature reader #mother nature! y/n #warren worthington x mother nature #warren worthington iii x mother nature

[kopikokun]

Spilled Drinks & Study Sessions༄ mark l.

↳ When you’re forced into a study session with your next door neighbour Mark, who also happens to be your academic rival in school, things go south very quickly.

pairing; mark lee x reader

genre; fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (more like friends, but anyway)

wordcount; 2503 words

author’s note; how the hell do you guys write e2l and make the transition so smooth? bro i could never. also, the header pic is different than what i normally do :/ it’s kinda eh, but i liked the picture so i had to do something with all that empty space

Request 26: Mark + “Oh, are you ticklish?” (73) + “Why are you naked?” (109)

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬.

The animosity between you and Mark is intense and painstakingly obvious to everyone around you. Well, everyone besides your parents, you suppose. 

   “Can you stop being so loud? You’re distracting me,” you grumble, angrily flipping through your homework. 

   “Well, I’m sorry for breathing.” Mark rolls his eyes at you. “Would you rather I stop entirely instead and drop dead right here, right now?”

   “At least it would be quieter if you did.” You press your pen down harder, taking your rage out on your poor, innocent worksheet. If you’re going to blame anyone for the excruciating torture your homework is enduring, you’d blame Mark. Even if it technically isn’t his fault, you’d still pin the blame on him. 

   “What’re you gonna do with my body? You wouldn’t be able to lift me, I mean, you couldn’t even open that can of Coke.”

   Your cheeks grow warm, mentally replaying the image of a grinning Mark as he effortlessly opened your can of Coke, the soft hiss of its fizz taunting you. Mark had puffed up his chest triumphantly like he was some kind of hero. For crying out loud, he had only opened a can of Coke, not saved his country. It still bruised your pride though, having to ask for help from Mark, your sworn rival since middle school. Childish, you know, but you’re certain that Mark thinks of you as such too. 

   “Whatever,” you fumble for a name to call him, “nerd.” Mark snickers at you. “My fingers were just slippery.” He arches a brow, challenging you, and you scowl. “I wouldn’t be able to lift you because you’re heavy, fatass. Not because I’m weak.” You twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “And look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can’t-Open-Doors.”

      Mark flushes crimson as he silently fumes. “That was because I was pushing the pull door!”

   “That’s even worse, Mark,” you tease, unable to suppress a smile. “Dumbass,” you mumble below your breath, enjoying the way Mark seethes.

   “You’re calling me a dumbass? If I remember correctly, I was the one who placed above you last term.” Mark haughtily flips a page in his workbook. “Which I think is why your parents want me to tutor you.”

   You throw a measly eraser shaving at Mark in rebuttal. “You know that’s not why I’m here!” Another shaving is thrown at Mark’s head, yet he doesn’t even look up at you. “In fact, your parents probably wanted me here so I could babysit you!”

   Neither you or Mark are right. Your parents just chucked you together because they thought that after all those years of living beside one another and having weekly dinners together, you two would be absolutely wonderful buddies, and you can’t fault them for assuming such a thing.

   Logically speaking, you and Mark are supposed to be the bestest of friends. As much as you dislike the word, it seems as if fate has decided that you two are meant for each other. Gross. 

   In almost every situation possible, you and dear Markie boy over here have been unwillingly strung together—from group projects, to assigned seats, you two just can’t get a break from one another.

   Your parents had innocently thought that having a little study session while they went out for a double date with Mark’s parents would be beneficial for you two. Perhaps even fun. Fun, your ass. 

   All those years spent with Mark hasn’t made you friends, no, it’s made you rivals.

   Yeah, so not sworn enemies, but what’s life without a little exaggeration?

   You’ve always been a bright kid, some would even go as far to say that you’re ‘gifted’, but you think ‘persevering’ is a better word to describe it. You weren’t just born naturally intelligent or outstandingly athletic, no, you’ve had to work hard, insanely hard, for that. It hadn’t been handed to you all nicely wrapped with a little bow to match, just for you to tear it open and take. You’ve had to tolerate and undergo several sleepless nights, and many agonising hours of training. 

   Up until middle school you were top of your class in all aspects. You were idolised (well, as idolised as you could be for a middle schooler anyway), loved and acknowledged. It had been blissful. 

   That was until, little Mark with that stupidly cute gleam in his eyes came along, skipping over to you in those worn-out track pants and smiling toothily as he introduced himself as your brand new next door neighbour.

   You have to admit, initially, you and him were close friends. You’d walk home together, sneak out to go to the convenience store together, share snacks together, the list goes on. You’d even given Mark your very first kiss, right on the cusp on your twelfth birthday. He didn’t know that it was your first kiss though, and he’ll never know. You’d rather be shot at point blank range than give up such private intel. 

   But when one day, in seventh grade, when Mark had begun closing in on you in rankings, outrunning you at the park and gradually being everyone’s new favourite, you found yourself isolated. Even one of your friends, a girl with straight long hair that fell past her waist, started hanging out with Mark more than with you.

   And when you invited her to your thirteenth birthday, the first thing she’d asked was, “Is Mark going to be there?”

   And at that same party, you saw her, kissing the boy you had been crushing on for the past year. And it looked like Mark really enjoyed kissing her too. More than he did with you.

   From that point on, you began to distance yourself from Mark. It was gradual, slow, but you knew Mark could tell. When he finally surpassed you academically too, you started harbouring a resentment towards him, and the rivalry between you two started.

   You were somewhat hoping he’d confront you, at least wonder why your attitude towards him had seemed to change in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t. And that stung.

   Obviously rumours had circulated in middle school about what was going on between you two. Kids, no, people love to talk. And talk they did. 

   It had been widely known that you and Mark used to be inseparable at one point in time, and it was jarring seeing how differently you two were acting around each other.

   Mark and that friend of yours had broken up some time after that, and evidently she was pissed. It seemed as if she had begun spreading gossip about you, claiming that you had been some sort of psycho ex-girlfriend and that you had threatened Mark to break up with her, essentially, she was villainising you.

   When high school finally rolled around, Mark’s ex had moved by then—you weren’t sure where and you didn’t care to know. The rumours eventually died down with her absence, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you and Mark could finally make amends, bury the hatchet, as one would say. But that never happened.

   Looking back, you’re a bit amused at what an eventful and dramatic childhood you had. All those scandals at just thirteen? What a boss bitch. Present you would not be able to stomach that.

   You take a peek at Mark. He’s attractive. Of course he is. He had been a cute kid, no doubt, but as he’s aged, he’s matured into his good looking features. He’s not the rugged and manly kind of good looking, he’s got more of a sweet boyish look to him, and in your opinion, it adds to his charm. 

   “What are you staring at?” 

   Shit, you’ve been caught. No, caught? It’s not like you were doing something you shouldn’t have. “Nothing.” You reach forward to take a sip from the infamous Coke can. It’s lukewarm, but you gulp it down regardless, trying to appear unfazed.

   “Were you checking me out?”

   Disaster strikes just as those words leave Mark’s lips. The putrid sensation of warm coke leaves your mouth entirely, not because you’ve begrudgingly swallowed it all, but because you’ve spit it out from the sheer shock of Mark’s question. 

   “Hey! What the fuck?” Mark stands from his chair across from you and its legs scrape against the floor with a sound that makes your skin crawl. 

   You cough and sputter, gasping for air. Once you’ve gotten past that tight feeling in your throat, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A few droplets of the sugary drink dribble onto your shirt. But fortunately, well for you at least, you’re not as drenched in spit-laced Coke as Mark is. 

   “Shit!” You lift your gaze to look at Mark, who’s surprised, to say the least. 

   Mark takes a breath to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut, opting to groan in annoyance instead. “Jesus, why’d you even do that?”

   Your face burns in embarrassment. No way you’re going to admit to him that you were checking him out. Sort of. “I don’t know, it just went down the wrong channel, I guess.”

   Mark’s lips form a thin line of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He cringes as his shirt sticks to him. “ I’m gonna go change.”

   He runs a hand through his hair, face upturned in frustration as he stomps up the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the living room. Your eyes follow his figure until he turns a left into his room. 

   You sigh. If you were home alone, you would have screamed in humiliation. The can of Coke on the table mocks you. You resist the urge to pick it up and hurl it into Mark’s neighbour’s backyard—well, your backyard. 

   A sliver of positivity presents itself in the form of you and Mark’s mostly unscathed worksheets. There are a few stray droplets here and there, but it’s barely noticeable. It would’ve been much worse for both Mark and you if you had drenched those as well. In fact, your homework wouldn’t be drenched in just saliva and Coke, but also in tears at that point. 

   You curse the can in your grasp, its aluminium smooth against your skin, before you dump it in the bin. Good riddance, bitch. 

   I should apologise. You can suck up your pride for that. No, this isn’t even about petty things like pride anymore. That shouldn’t matter. I should apologise, you think to yourself firmly.

   Alright. Apologising. Sorry. You inhale deeply, gathering your senses and calming your jittery nerves. Why are you even nervous? It’s not like you’re professing your undying love to him. Chill the fuck out.

   As you’re standing before Mark’s single, wooden door (which looks extremely daunting for some reason), it doesn’t dawn on you that perhaps you should knock first.

   If it had, then perhaps you wouldn’t be staring at a shirtless Mark, your hand still wrapped around his doorknob and your mouth hung agape.

   “Oh my God, Mark!” You cover your eyes, the door shutting behind you with a creak. You’re a bit ashamed at how fast your cheeks are overtaken by a hot, prickling feeling. “Why are you naked?”

   Mark, though just as startled as you are, has the common sense to reach blindly for the stained shirt he just took off, holding it in front of him. “What do you mean why am I naked? Why are you here?”

   You take a few steps back, your back pressed up against the door. “I- I came up here to say I’m sorry. You know, for uh, just now?”

   Your hands slowly fall to your sides as you burn holes into Mark’s carpeted floor with your eyes instead. 

   “Oh, uh, o-okay. Apology accepted, I guess.” Mark’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Let me just uhm—”

   You can hear his drawer sliding open and the faint rustle of fabric. All the while you keep your gaze glued to the floor, feeling your cheeks grow warmer by the second. Oh my God, you’re acting like a little girl who’s just held a boy’s hand for the first time.

   This isn’t the first time you’ve seen a guy naked—for fuck’s sake, Mark’s not even naked. He’s all covered up where he should be. Why is the sight of just his bare body from the waist up making your mind go blank and your palms grow sweaty? It’s not like you have feelings for him anymore. No, you don't.

   “You can uh, you can look up now.”

   You steel yourself, looking up to face Mark. Why did you have to steel yourself? It’s not like he’d have taken even more clothes off once you looked up again. You feel like slamming your head into the wall.

   You fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say to try and ease the tension. “Uh, sorry. For spilling that Coke all over you, I mean.” You scratch the nape of your neck. “And for you know, walking in on you changing.”

   “Why didn’t you leave?”

   Your shoulders slump. “Huh?”

   Mark chuckles confidently, like he’s unabashed. His cheeks are ablaze with colour, though. “I mean, why didn’t you just back out of the room when you walked in on me changing? Why’d you just stand there?”

   You blink at him. Why didn’t you just leave? “I- I froze up, okay? Don’t bully me!” Your ears are burning.

   “Yeah, okay, okay.” Mark raises his hands by his sides, that entertained smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s go back down, okay? I still need to finish my work.”

   You chew on your inner cheek. “Yeah, whatever,” you try to find a creative name to call him.

   “Yeah, I know. Nerd.” Mark raises his brows at you, still with that amused grin. You wish you could smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.

   You huff, turning on your heel and practically booking it to the stairs. Mark catches up to you in no time with long, languid strides. Stupid long ass legs.

   “Hey, wait up, loser,” he says, a hint of delight in his voice. He pokes your side and you jump, shoving his hand away and mustering a weak glare at him. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

   You gnaw on your bottom lip. “No, I’m not, fatass!” Despite your harsh tone, your cheeks deceive you, blossoming with warmth yet again.

   Mark smiles genuinely this time, although there’s no sarcastic edge to it whatsoever. “You getting shy?”

   “No, I’m not.”

   “Hey, don’t be upset!” The next thing Mark says is nearly incomprehensible, but you hear it. Oh, you definitely do.

   “You look cute.”

   Your head swivels to look back at Mark, and you realise that he hadn’t meant for you to hear that.

   The faintest of smiles teases your lips, before you turn away, denying him the satisfaction of seeing you break out into a grin. “Yeah, whatever, Mark.”

   Now, it’s Mark’s turn to be enveloped in heat as a red tint spreads across his cheeks.

#toaster requests #mark fluff #mark angst #nct fluff #nct angst #mark lee #mark nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #mark imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #mark scenarios #nct oneshots #mark oneshots #nct x reader #mark x reader #nct blurbs #mark blurbs #nct drabbles #mark drabbles #nct fics #mark fics

[achubbydumpling]

[unfinished] Pile It On

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1561

Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Not underage, Fat camp, Stuffing, Weight Gain, Fat!Bucky

So, I had a great conversation with @wotvagyok about my fat camp AU Bucky and what might've led to Bucky breaking a bed like I mentioned in this ficlet. Thanks for the inspiration!

(I'm sorry, I can't think anymore right now. I'll fill in the spaces tomorrow, but if I don't publish this right now I'll probably not finish this challenge at all.)

“Team Cap sets up their attack, Wanda touches, high ark to Wilson, Rogers is probably their best chance at winning… but, no, Wilson sets for Barnes, is that the right decision? Let’s see if he can even get off the ground to—Barnes kills it! Stark can’t block that and with that his team is out! 21-19! A neck-and-neck race all the way. Congratulations, Team Cap!” Thor excitedly commentates jumping up from the beach.

The entire team piled onto Bucky to hug him and scream in his ear. Steve gave him a very bro-hug, grinning wide and shouting at Bucky.

“That jump was insane!” Steve yelled at him again.

“You’ve said that.” Bucky’s cheeks ached from how much he was smiling.

“I know!” Steve said in the same tone of voice, then squeezed Bucky tightly one last time and quietly added, “See you after lunch” with pointedly raised eyebrows, like Bucky wouldn’t immediately get what he was hinting at.

Read on AO3

They’d worked out a pretty good system over the past few summers. Plus, Bucky knew that quiet tone of voice all too well and Steve basically saying out loud that he’d sneak away to Bucky’s cabin in his lunch break? For a second everything outside of those words and Steve’s body pressed against him faded away.

However, the chatter of all the other campers came crashing back into Bucky’s consciousness when Steve turned away and started directing the other campers to the dining hall like he didn’t just—

Breathe, Barnes, he chastised himself and made his (very sore) legs to the dining hall. Scarf down the bland food, charm (beg) his way into seconds, head to the cabin and eat whatever Steve stashed there during his morning “contraband” sweep.

[...]

“Yeah, to make sure no one would find everything. Why didn’t you check the top bunk?”

“It says on the bed post the top bunk is only rated for 300 pounds?”

“Oh. Well, you don’t weigh that much more.”

“Yeah, just like 100 pounds.” Another cramp from his overstuffed belly forced a groan out of him. “Feels like double that right now.” Steve quirked his eyebrow and flicked his eyes at the ladder to the top bunk. Steve’s blue eyes darkened with the fantasy he was clearly playing out in his head right now. The air punched out of Bucky’s lungs.

“What if I break it?” he whispered. He couldn’t force himself to speak up. This— Sure, a flimsy chair had broken under the weight he’d piled on, but a bed? He’d have to tell someone. A sickeningly hot twist of pleasure raced down his spine. He’d have to admit out loud—

“Go on,” Steve interrupted his thought process, pushing Bucky to say that out loud.

“I’d— Fuck, I’d have to tell a counsellor. They’d probably take me to see Fury.” Steve swallowed drily.

“Why would they take you to the director?” Steve’s hands were clenched in fists on Bucky’s gut, belly rub forgotten for the moment.

“Get me weighed.” Steve nodded encouragingly, whispering “Why?”

“If I broke it now— Must’ve gained weight.” Bucky whined low in his throat and grabbed uselessly at the expanse of his belly before him.

“You’ve been here three weeks, you really should’ve lost some weight by now.” Steve pushed himself up from where he was sitting next to Bucky and straddled him. He pushed both his hands into the fat overhang spilling over his waistband and heaved Bucky’s belly up. Muscles and tendons working in his forearms.

“But I can barely lift this thing up.” Steve teased, then let go, letting all the fat slap back onto Bucky’s legs. That jostled his overstuffed gut so badly, Bucky wanted to curl into himself, but he was effectively immobilized by the weight of his gluttony.

The heat of his humiliation sparked his arousal like tinder. He was achingly hard. Trapped against his own fat. Twitching. Trying to rut into that friction. Steve shoved his hand between his fat pad and the fat hanging over it to blindly grab for his dick. When he found that bit of hardness, he squeezed. Tight.

“Not yet. You eat what I give you.” Bucky screwed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“Can’t,” he whined, shook his head again. Steve’s unyielding grip kept Bucky from coming all over himself at just imagining himself crawling up there and eating even more.

“Yes.” The command pierced through Bucky’s middle, making him squirm.

[...]

Dry heat raced through his core, having him press his hand over his dick. He was riding that edge so violently he felt like he should be coming all over his own fingers, but his briefs were still only stained by that spot of precum.

“Oh, fuck, get down here. You just— Bucky!” Steve was scrambling at his back, helping him back down the ladder. Once he was firmly back on the floor, Steve plunged his hand into Bucky’s briefs. Mouth on his neck. Other hand on Bucky’s sweat-slicked sides.

Steve jerked him fast and inelegantly, but Bucky didn’t care in that moment. Too consumed by the realisation that he’d gained enough weight to break the top bunk without even putting his full weight on it. Steve gasping, “you cracked the slats,” finally got him over the edge. Coming over Steve’s hands in his brief.

Bucky’s knees finally buckled under him, and Steve manoeuvred him to lie back down on the bottom bunk, which he was also rapidly outgrowing with the amount of calories he was consuming daily. Bucky was still caught up in the afterglow to help Steve much with getting off. He just felt bone-deep tired.

Steve was standing in front of the bed, one arm propped against the frame and resting his forehead against it. Bucky felt impossibly fatter when he let his head fall forward to look at Steve. He could feel his double-chin bunching up around his neck. His body taking up half his field of view.

Bucky couldn’t even see Steve’s hand on his dick, just the repetitive movement of his arm. The way the muscles moved, his right pec flexed and relaxed again and again. His whole body slightly jerking every time he fucked his hips up into his own fist. The bitten-off moans on his lips. All that over Bucky. The milky soft mountain of fat sitting on his upper body. The solid mass of food rounding out his stomach.

Steve’s forehead slipped off his arm and he just let his head hang for a moment. Then snapped up and locked eyes with Bucky. His pupils blown wide, lips bitten raw and coming over his own hand and torso.

Something fluttered and clenched when Steve climbed slowly onto the bed, wiped them both down with Bucky’s discarded shirt and tucked himself into Bucky’s side.

Bucky’s head reeled with a sudden realisation.

“What are we going to do about the bed?” Instead of answering Steve curled further into himself and hummed noncommittally.

“Hey, I’m serious. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

“Slat’s barely cracked, ‘ll tell Fury after end-of-summer check-in. They’re not gonna kick you out.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t think they’ll let me back in next year.” Bucky rubbed at the back of his head. “Maybe you could—I don’t know—come up to my place or something.”

Steve opened his eyes again but didn’t look at Bucky. Instead, he started playing with a loose thread on the comforter.

“One more summer. Then I’ll—” Bucky sighed, his hand found its way into Steve’s hair.

“I know. I know. Degree, then job. Wherever that takes you. Just thought it’d be— We’d have more than like an hour and a handful of moments to enjoy… this.” Bucky gestured very specifically to his middle and did not think about what else he’d like Steve to want. “What if they won’t let me come back next summer? Don’t really think I qualify for the asthma camp across the lake.”

“Fury’s determined to help everyone lose weight and Stark’s stubborn as hell.”

“They’ve failed three years in a row. This time pretty hard. Y’know after breaking camp property because I gainedweight while being here.” Steve stayed quiet for a long moment. They’d had this conversation a few too many times for them not to know all the arguments by now.

“You don’t think the sneaking around’s kinda fun?” Bucky just wanted to sighed. He felt the urge to shake Steve and make him see that Bucky was in this for a whole lot more than sneaking around to fuck like high schoolers.

“Speaking of your time’s up.” Bucky felt Steve moving up, about to lie down on Bucky’s chest and say those familiar words, “just five more minutes, Buck” but when Bucky kept his eyes firmly trained straights ahead the words died in his throat. Steve sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, then pushed himself up with a deep breath.

“Do you want anything special for tomorrow?” Bucky shrugged. His eyes suddenly felt to heavy to keep them open.

“Surprise me.” A barren olive branch.

Steve disappeared into the bathroom and Bucky finally let the sigh, that had been trapped against his chest, out. He stayed on the bed with his eyes closed until Steve padded out of the bathroom, across the cabin and pushed the squeaky door handle down.

“One more summer.”

#stucky #weight gain #Fat!Bucky #Get Beached

[tsukkeisimp]

THE SAUROPOSEIDON AND THE LITTLE TINY PRINCESS

Pairing: Tsukishima X Reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff

TW: cursing

A/N: this is part of my tsukki smau ‘i think i kinda, you know’, but you can definetely read it without the context of the smau if you want to! i’m so soft, i loved writing this so much. pls lemme know what you think, ily if you’re reading!

It was 2.16 am. MC slowly opened Tsukishima’s bedroom door, careful not to make any sound. The room was dark, the only source of light being the glow-in-the-dark stars that he had stuck on the ceiling when he was 8. MC had bought them for him as a birthday present.

The dim light coming from the stars brought her back to the times when she would spend the night there as a child, sharing the bed with Tsukki. They would stare at them for hours before falling asleep, making up stories about what was going on up there. Tsukki’s stories obviously always being about dinosaurs and MC’s stories were always in one way or another inspired by ‘The Little Prince’, her favorite book to this day.

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‘… and then the little tiny princess managed to get back to her home, it was that one star!’ MC finished her story, pointing at the biggest star on the ceiling.

‘But MC, we had already agreed that the sauroposeidon was living on that one star! He needs to be on the biggest star, because he’s the tallest dinosaur ever.’ Tsukki complained, reminding her of the story he had just finished creating.

‘Can’t the princess and the dinosaur share the star? Can’t they live together? I bet they could do that, because even though he’s so tall and big, she’s little and tiny!’ MC giggled excitedly at the idea of a princess and a dinosaur living together. She thought it was the best idea ever.

‘Mmmh… I don’t know about that…’ Kei was not convinced yet.

‘They’re like me and you! We can share the bed because even though you’re so tall and big, I’m little and tiny! And so we fit together! And we’re comfy! I bet they would become best friends! Just like me and you!’ Her eyes sparkled as she explained, she was bursting with excitement. She looked over at her best friend, waiting for his approval.

‘… I guess. I guess you’re right. They can be on the star together.’ he nodded, finally persuaded. He could have never said no to the sparkle in the little girl’s eyes. It was his favorite thing in the world, after dinosaurs of course: his best friend smiling, giggling and her eyes lighting up. He wanted her to have that expression all the time. And he wanted to be right next to her all the time to witness it.

‘Yay! Let’s finish the story then.’ she  squealed and then tried to put on a serious expression to start narrating.

‘And so the sauropoidon –‘

‘It’s the sauroposeidon.’ he reminded her, annoyed she would forget such an important fact. It was his favorite dinosaur.

‘I’m sorry, you’re right. ‘ she rolled her eyes at the correction and then continued.

‘So the sauroposeidon and the little tiny princess lived happily ever after on their star, together. Because they fitted perfectly, and they were very very comfy together. And even though they would travel around to other stars a lot, they would always go back there. To their star. The end.’

‘And! They stayed bestest friends forever.’ he added.

‘Yes, they stayed bestest friends forever!’

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MC was standing at the door, her eyes glued to the ceiling, looking for their star. It didn’t take too long to find it, since there were two dots drawn on it. The morning after they made up that story, MC got on Kei’s shoulders with a marker and she drew one big dot and one small dot on the star. One representing the little tiny princess and one representing the sauroposeidon. This new story became their favorite one, the one they would tell over and over again everytime they were laying together in that bed.

‘Come here dummy, what are you standing there for?’ a sleepy raspy voice whispered, pulling MC out of the past and back into the present. They weren’t 8 years old bestest friends anymore. They were high schoolers. And they hadn’t shared a bed in so long. Last time that happened, they were probably 10 or 11. Once they started middle school and the other kids started to point out how close they were and how ‘they looked like boyfriend and girlfriend’, they both started to avoid physical touch at all costs. Truthfully, those kids weren’t the only reason they stopped hugging and cuddling. It was an attempt to run away from the butterflies they were both feeling in their tummies each time they got a little too close.

‘Hey.’ MC whispered back, walking up to the bed and stopping in front of it.

Tsukki groaned and rolled over to the side, making space for her to lay down next to him.

MC was just standing there, staring at the small place next to Kei she would have to fit into. They had both grown up a lot since they were 8. Tsukki was now basically a giant, taller than almost everyone they knew. A true sauroposeidon. He was still taking up most of the bed, despite his attempt to make space for MC. Seeing that, she got worried. She feared they wouldn’t fit. No, she knew they wouldn’t fit. It was obvious. And they wouldn’t be comfy like the sauroposeidon and the tiny princess on their star.

Kei was waiting for her to lay next to him, he wondered why she was taking so long. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. Why wasn’t she going back to their star?

‘Are you just gonna stand there or…?’ he asked, annoyed. He just wanted to sleep already.

‘… Do we even fit anymore?’

As soon as she asked that, Kei knew exactly she was referring to the sauroposeidon and little princess story.

‘Of course we fit, you idiot.’ he said confidently, but as he looked down to the space that was left on the bed for her he was filled with an unpleasing sense of uncertainty.

It wasn’t just about physically fitting on the bed. It wasn’t just about the sauroposeidon and princess fitting on the star. It was mostly about them fitting in each other’s life. It had been worrying the both of them for a while, but they never talked about it. Since the beginning of high school they both had started a new life, away from each other. They went to different schools. They hanged out with different friends. Their schedules were different. They were traveling away from their star. And it was fun. But also scary. What if one of them got lost and couldn’t find their way back? What if one of them would find a star they liked more than theirs? What if one of them was never gonna come back?

‘Just lay here.’ Kei grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down, forcing her to lay next to him.

They bed had obviously gotten too small for the both of them. They shifted around awkwardly, trying to make themselves more comfortable and fit nicely. The fact they were desperately trying not to touch each other too much while doing so, obviously didn’t help. No matter how hard they tried they kept thinking: we will never be as comfy as they are.

‘Well… not as comfy as I remembered but… we somehow fit.’ MC tried to convince herself, but her disappointed face said it all. She was somehow still hoping they would fit effortlessly, just like when they were little kids making up stories about the stars.  

‘… Anyway my parents already mentioned they wanted to get me a new bed soon. Because you know, I barely fit on my own. When I get the new one we’re gonna fit perfectly again.’ Tsukki tried to comfort her, not even realising what he was implying by saying that. They were gonna go back to their star.

‘R-really? That’s good.’ MC’s heart started beating really fast as the image of her and Kei being as comfy as they were when they were 8 got clearer into her mind. She wanted that so bad. She wanted to be close to him again.

They stared at the ceiling together, both of their eyes naturally going to the star with the two dots on it. It was like the sauroposeidon and the tiny princess were staring back at them.  

‘I’m so jealous of them. They’re probably all comfy and cuddly right now.’ MC yawned as she pointed to the star, as if Kei wasn’t already looking right at it.

‘Lucky bastards.’ he commented, yawning as a reaction to MC’s yawn.

‘Kei!’ she punched his arm playfully and laughed quietly. ‘Don’t call them bastards.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever, they are.’

They layed there in silence for a while, just listening to each other breathe and getting more and more comfortable with each passing minute. They both fell asleep while looking at their star, remembering the times they would be all comfy and cuddly on it. And secretly praying they were gonna get comfy and cuddly again soon.

Once they were asleep their bodies adjusted automatically. They started moving around in their sleep and just like magic, after a few minutes, they were fitting perfectly on the bed. MC’s head resting on Tsukki’s chest and his arms wrapped around her. His face resting on her head. Maybe Tsukki wouldn’t have had to ask his parents for a new bed afterall. Because right now they were oh so perfectly comfy and cuddly on their star.  

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#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #hq tsukishima #tsukishima oneshot #haikyu x reader