#do the stories line up at all? nope! do i care? nope! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wongyuseokie · 11 days

Text

All Too Well | c.s.c

Summary: You thought you met the man of your dreams. He was everything you ever wanted, but what happens when that dream falls apart and when that man is no longer the one you recognise? You want to love him against all odds because you believe things can be better.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 21,190 words

Pairings: Professor! Seungcheol x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Established Relationship, break up au! Slightly (quite) toxic relationship, HEAVY ANGST, fluff, smut.

Content Warnings: There is an age gap between the reader and Seungcheol, but it’s not massive. He’s 30, and she’s 25, but it’s enough to cause problems. Seungcheol is a condescending little shit in this. Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic couple behaviours, mentions of an injury. Hospitalisation it’s nothing serious—mentions of blood. Smut Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving) shower sex, multiple orgasms, squirting and using sex as an apology. Authors Note 1: This fic will hurt quite a bit, but I like pain and write many of my experiences with my ex. It’s a form of free therapy, and it feels cathartic. Also, this story is fiction. Cheol is a fucking dick in this. This is a story that is not reflective of him or my impression of him. It is pure fiction, nothing else. Authors Note 2: Thank you so so much to my lovely @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading over this, my lovely @wooahaeproductions and @gyuwoncheol for beta'ing this fic for me 🩷 Authors Note 3: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old Joon fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe.

Taglist: @dkluvrsclub @wooahaeproductions @stayinhellevator @aaniag @seungkwansphd @tomodachiii @gyuminusone @bitchlessdino @zezedoesshit @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @noiceoofed @joonsytip @miniseokminnies @wonwoos-wineparty @persnyako @deobienthusiast @the-boy-meets-evil @gyuswhore @gyuwoncheol @shuadotcom @multi-kpop-fanfics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @thegirlwhoimagined @starlight-night0 @dreamsbloomout @aaasia111 @wongyuuu @ana-marais98 @gaslysainz @cherrylita @highvern Part of the Broken Illusions Stories

“Mia, I’m not going to go on Tinder to end a dry spell, nor am I going to sleep with any of the men here. They are all old and most likely married. I’m not keen,” you groaned to your best friend.

Mia had dragged you out tonight because she said that you had a dry spell that needed to be broken, but you were not going to submit to your hormones, and you surely were not going to submit to some random guy on Tinder with the worst possible pick-up lines.

“Look, I can take care of myself. Men are useless and self-obsessed,” you claimed before sipping your martini.

“Surely not all men?” A voice spoke, making you choke on your drink.

You wiped your face wiped it of what? quickly and turned around in your seat to face the voice’s owner. Your eyes widened like saucers upon seeing the man standing before you. You were speechless, and as your eyes scanned, trailed from his deep-set eyes, his impeccable build, and his thighs, thighs that you wanted to straddle and ride until you screamed his name over and over.

“Nope, all men,” you quipped, making the handsome stranger smile at you, revealing his deep dimples.

“Y/N’s been burned by useless men, men who’ve claimed to be all that and then fell short, so she’s quite cynical about most men,” Mia chimed. “Ow!” Mia yelped when you kicked her shin for oversharing.

“Well, how about I get you another drink?” The man suggested, and Mia grinned before hopping off her barstool.

“Great, you do that! I have an early shift tomorrow. Stay safe, Y/N,” Mia said, winking as she headed out of the bar, and you glared at her, knowing that her ‘stay safe’ comment also meant to use a condom.

“I’m Seungcheol.” The stranger introduced himself, and you nodded, turning around to face the bar as he sat down next to you.

“Well, you already know my name. My best friend did kind of yell it,” you deadpanned. You didn’t care how ridiculously handsome Seungcheol was. He could just be another man who could talk a big game and be useless.

“What would you like to drink?” Seungcheol asked, and you shrugged. “Surprise me,” you said. You made a mental note that if he got you some fruity shit, you’d leave him the second the words left his mouth.

“How about a Yuzu fizz gin and tonic?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled at him, nodding.

“I can guess that if I ordered something you didn’t approve of, you would have left the bar by now?” Seungcheol joked.

“Well, now you’ll never know, will you?” You joked, making Seungcheol smile again.

“So why are you here? Trying to find Prince Charming?” Seungcheol asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, come on, be honest. I’m not one to judge,” Seungcheol encouraged, and a sly grin formed on your face.

“If you insist, then okay,” you started to say, inching closer to him, swallowing a gulp as you took in the scent of his cologne. It was musky, spicy, and woody all at once.

“I’ve been stuck in a painfully long dry spell, and my hand is exhausted. I just need to find someone to fuck me hard,” you answered nonchalantly, and you swore you saw Seungcheol gulp slightly.

“You’re telling me a woman as beautiful as you has not found a man?” Seungcheol asked as he moved away to hand you your drink. You took a sip out of the glass, smiling at the taste.

“Good?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded.

“Would you like to try?” You asked, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“Maybe later?” Seungcheol replied, and you nodded.

“But to answer your question, it’s not about looks. For instance, a guy might be doing well, then he’ll say something obnoxious, and I’ll no longer be interested,” you explained.

“Fair enough, I apologise on behalf of my species. We often get too excited when we see a beautiful woman and act up,” Seungcheol clarified, making you grin. Seungcheol was incredibly handsome and sweet, but you didn’t feel anything. Nothing clicked. There was no instant chemistry; suddenly, you felt tired and bored and just wanted to be wrapped up in your blanket.

“Well, this was nice. Thank you for the drink, but I think I will call it a night,” you said, and Seungcheol simply smiled at you. You were relieved at how he wasn’t pushy or objecting to the fact that you wanted to leave so early. Most of the men you had met would get defensive or be less than understanding if you wanted to go before they got to cop a feel.

“Wait, how are you getting home?” Seungcheol asked.

“Walking home, it’s a twenty-minute walk,” you replied.

“Y/N, you can punch me if I step out of line, but no, you’re not walking home alone.” You sighed, but you didn’t mind entirely, plus you could kick him in the crotch if he acted up. You were cognizant enough to do so.

“Well then, Seungcheol, since it’s a bit of a walk, shall we play a game?” You asked as you both stepped out of the bar and started to walk.

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked, grinning.

“Humour me, Seungcheol .”

“Fine then.”

“Great, let’s play twenty questions,” and you proceeded to ask. “How old are you?”

“30,” he replied.

“If it’s not too rude to ask you, the same?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled before replying, “25.”

“I have another question if it’s not too crude?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded at him to ask it. “When you said you wanted to be fucked hard, how hard?” You gulped; you swore his voice had gotten deeper and huskier since he left the bar. You chalked up your reaction to the cold air, playing tricks on your mind.

“If let’s say, hypothetically, it was me, how hard would you want me to fuck you?” Seungcheol continued , making you stop and turn to face him. His eyes were piercing and burned through any façade you had on tonight.

“Hard enough to make me forget my name,” you whispered, earning a nod from Seungcheol.

The rest of the walk was filled with silence, aside from a few questions from Seungcheol, but you couldn’t get the vision of him standing over you and asking you how hard you’d like to be fucked out of your head.

“Well,” you breathed out when your eyes landed on your front door.

“This is me,” you said, standing with your back against your front door.

“Wait, I have one thing I want to try but don’t worry, you still have permission to knee me in the balls,” Seungcheol teased, making you chuckle, only for a second, before his soft lips landed on yours. The kiss was so light it almost felt like nothing happened, but you knew it did because you felt your heartbeat out of your chest the minute his lips grazed yours.

“I always wanted to know what the Yuzu gin and tonic tasted like,” Seungcheol said smugly before moving away from you.

“Well, it was lovely meeting you,” Seungcheol said, leaving you speechless and breathless as he turned around and walked away from your front door.

“Seungcheol! Wait!” He turned around, smiling at you.

“Would you like to come in for a nightcap? We still have several questions left,” you suggested, hoping he’d say yes. Seungcheol grinned as he nodded, following you into your apartment.

Fifteen questions in, Seungcheol and you were on your living room sofa. You were cuddling into his side, your legs on his lap. Around five questions ago, Seungcheol’s hand started trailing your exposed thighs , and you had let out a few soft moans at his touch.

“Question sixteen for you, Y/N,” Seungcheol said, and you laughed at him.

“You kept count?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded.

“I’m very detail-oriented,” Seungcheol replied, and you rolled your eyes.. Seungcheol’s hand stopped trailing your thighs; instead, he gently squeezed them.

“Tell me, how hard did you want to be fucked?” He asked again, and you quirked your brows at him.

“You already asked,” you replied breathlessly, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“Would it hurt to get details?” Seungcheol pressed staring right into your eyes. You would be lying if you said you didn’t start getting wet five questions ago, but now your core ached at his words.

“So hard that I can’t walk, so that I’m a mumbling and whimpering mess.” You said as you moved so that you were straddling Seungcheol. You gently moved your hips against his, and you felt his length hardening.

“Question seventeen for you. Why did you ask me for a drink tonight?” you asked as Seungcheol groaned and held your waist, stopping your movements.

“When I saw you in this dress, I couldn’t help but think about how I wanted to do nothing more than rip it off your body,” Seungcheol spoke, and you moaned at his words. His grip on your waist got tighter, and you were sure you would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

“Question eighteen, Y/N, are you wet right now?” Seungcheol asked, and you smirked and proceeded to reply with another question.

“Question nineteen, Seungcheol, do you want to find out?” You asked, and Seungcheol’s eyes darkened with lust as he nodded,lifting the pushed-up hem of your dress so that it was at the waistband of your panties.

Seungcheol looked at you for consent, and you nodded, giving it to him. He pulled your panties to the side and brushed his fingers through your folds. Seungcheol moaned at your wetness, then moved his fingers to his mouth, and relished your taste.

“Final question, baby. What’s your safe word?” He asked.

“Peaches,” you replied.

“Peaches it is,” Seungcheol responded, content with your answer, he carried you to your bedroom to a night filled with absolute pleasure.

You woke up the following day to soft snores; you smiled softly at Seungcheol sleeping. Seungcheol looked incredibly handsome, even with his hair ruffled and mouth open as he snored lightly. You hated how you were romanticising this one moment, especially considering that it was the result of several drinks and very sexual questions that led him to your bedroom. Still, at this moment, you wished that this would be the view you could wake up to every day.

He was perfect. He was so sweet, loving, gentle, and kind all night long. You wouldn’t be opposed to having that type of care and affection regularly.

You decided to get out of bed and grab your oversized nightshirt as you headed to the kitchen, leaving your bedroom quietly not to wake him up andruin the little daydream you were happily living in.

You took a detour, making sure to head to the bathroom first, freshen up, and then head to the kitchen, where you made a cup of green tea for yourself and a cup of hot coffee for Seungcheol. In your hazy recollection of last night, you remembered Seungcheol ordering a couple of espresso martinis, so you assumed coffee would be a good idea.

You held the mugs in your hand as you headed back to your bedroom, smiling when you saw Seungcheol sitting up, stretching, and smiling sleepily at you when he turned his head to face you.

“Damn, and here I thought you left me,” Seungcheol joked. His deep morning voice made you feel warm, like the tea that warmed your throat with every sip.

“It’s my house,” you replied, smiling at him and handing him a mug of coffee.

“So, what do you do, Y/N?” Seungcheol asked. “Aside from rock my world,” he added, joking, making you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a freelance web designer, but I just took a break to travel with my friends for a bit, and so I’m just getting back into it.I need to go out and hustle to get clients again,” you said, and you noticed an emotion you couldn’t decipher flash across Seungcheol’s features.

You assumed he was squinting at the morning sunlight streaming into your bedroom, but it was gloomy. Still, it was early, and maybe he was just tired.

“What do you do?” You asked, not wanting to dwell on your thoughts for too long.

“I’m an English Literature professor at Seoul National University,” Seungcheol said, and you couldn’t help but notice the hint of smugness that laced his tone. Still, then again, if you were a professor at the most prestigious universities in the country, maybe you, too, would behave that way.

“So, you’re like a nerd?” You joked and knew it fell flat, noticing how Seungcheol gave you no reaction.

“Is it still a thing to call people nerds? Youngsters these days,” Seungcheol mused, and you couldn’t help but again detect an undercurrent of an unpleasant tone that made you feel uncomfortable. You let it slide because you knew nothing about this man.

“I enjoyed last night,” you said softly, joining him on your bed, hoping to change the topic.

“I did, too. I didn’t think heading out for a drink after work would help me find you,” Seungcheol agreed.

“I, uh,” you fumbled. You wanted to ask if he would be willing to see you again, and Seungcheol got the hint.

“I want to see you again, and not just to repeat last night, but because I want to get to know you more,” Seungcheol said, and you beamed at him.

“Shit, I need to get home and shower and get to the university, but can I have your number? I’ll text you after my lecture today, and yes, I’ll text today itself because I don’t believe in the whole bullshit of waiting for a day after to tell someone you enjoyed their company. I guess that’s something I learned with age,” Seungcheol stated.

Then, you wondered if you felt Seungcheol’s age would be a motif you could never get rid of.

“Wait, so the buff hot guy, you ended up going home with him and fucking him?” Mia exclaimed obnoxiously loud in the supermarket, making you glare at her as you got a few disapproving stares from fellow shoppers.

“Oh, you need to work on your indoor voice. You will end up spilling my life story to the world,” you said, elbowing Mia, who shrugged.

“So well, was he the kind of dick you want inside you again, or what?” Mia asked as you grabbed some pasta and put it in your shopping cart.

“He asked me out,” you replied.“Well, sort of. He said he doesn’t believe in waiting a while to text, so he said he’d text me today because he enjoyed my company,” you clarified, and you saw Mia’s grin widen.

“What does he do?” Mia asked. “He’s a professor of literature and SNU,” you responded.

“Damn, I need your luck to get that kind of dick on a night out, a qualified dick, if you will,” Mia joked, making you laugh.

“I don’t know, he still hasn’t texted, and it’s nearly 7, and if he texts any later than that, it’ll just be for a hookup, and I don’t want to be a booty call,” you explained, and Mia nodded.

“Well, he’s a professor at one of the most prestigious universities. Maybe he got busy, and if he enjoyed your company, I’m sure he doesn’t only want sex,” Mia explained. You shrugged unsurely, and your phone buzzed in your pocket as if on cue.

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Seungcheol. Sorry for not texting earlier like I said. Students had a lot of concerns, and it’s been a long day. I finally wrapped up, and if you haven’t made plans already, I’d like to take you out for a late-night dessert.

You smiled at your phone for what must have been too long, considering Mia decided to nudge you. “Fucking reply, you dork, and have him for dessert because that man must be sweet,” Mia teased, wiggling her brows at you, making you roll your eyes at her as you typed a reply.

You: Hey Seungcheol, that’s okay. Dessert? Colour me intrigued, where should I meet you?

Not even a minute afteryou sent the message, you saw the words “Seungcheol is typing,” flash across your screen, making you smile and feel giddy like a teenager having a crush.

Seungcheol: Send me your location, and I’ll pick you up.

You: Sure!

You: Location sent

Seungcheol: Perfect, see you in a few!

You grinned at your phone as Mia headed towards the check-out aisle. “Wow, he’s offering to pick you up, too. He’s already a keeper,” Mia stated, and you shrugged.

“How?” You asked, curious to understand your best friend’s logic.

“He’s going out of his way to meet you and pick you up; he wants to spend more time with you before the date. He isn’t simply telling you to meet him at a place. He is making the time and effort to take you out on a date after a busy day. That’s a good sign,” Mia explained, making you smile.

You and Mia had paid for your groceries and now were waiting outside. You were conversing with Mia when a sleek black Mercedes caught your eye. It was a sexy car, and your eyes widened when Seungcheol stepped out of the car and smiled at you.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you in the cold too long?” Seungcheol said, and you shook your head at him.

“Not at all,” you said shyly, earning a particularly hard nudge at your side from Mia, who noticed your shyness.

“I’m Mia, you must be Seungcheol,” she greeted, making Seungcheol laugh.

“I remember you, you’re trouble; you were the one who was kind enough to inundate me with Y/N’s sex life that night,” Seungcheol recalled, flustering Mia and you.

“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?” Mia countered, making Seungcheol smile, allowing his deep dimples to appear, making you smile too.

“Can’t deny that”, Seungcheol agreed, winking at you, making you smile even more, so much so that you thought your cheeks would break.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Mia said as she started to walk away.

“Wait, Mia, why don’t I drive you home before we both head out on our date? It’s cold and late,” Seungcheol offered, and for some reason, that stung. You don’t know why. She was your best friend; she’d never betray you, and Seungcheol, well, he was nothing to you right now.

Mia looked at you nervously, and you shrugged before nodding. “Yeah, come on, girl, it’s cold out. Besides, it’s not a long drive,” you rambled nervously, and Mia nodded as she approached the car.

Seungcheol was nothing but a gentleman, holding the door open for youfirst, letting you in the front seat next to him, and then moving to help Mia into the back seat, and you couldn’t help the ugly feeling of jealousy that stirred in the pit of your stomach.

Why would he help her after me? You thought and shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You needed to compose yourself before Seungcheol joined you in the driver’s seat.

“Alright, Mia, why don’t you tell me your address?” Seungcheol asked, flashing her a smile. You forced another smile at your best friend, annoyed at how your emotions clouded your ability to be rational, but Mia was right. Seungcheol was a catch, and you didn’t fancy losing him to your best friend.

The entire drive to Mia’s apartment was filled with awkward silence, aside from a couple of jokes from Seungcheol and a few nervous giggles from Mia. You kept your gaze on the road ahead, refusing to engage in the conversation. You hated how your insecurities got the better of you and ruined a good time.

“Thank you, Seungcheol,” Mia said softly, and for a second, you wanted to roll your eyes at her when you heard how sickly sweet her voice sounded, but then you realised that’s what she always sounded like and that your insecurity nearly caused you to ignore your best friend. You could tell Mia had noticed too as she too kept stealing worried glances at you.

“Hey, I’d never, and I’m sorry I imposed tonight,” Mia said as she exited the car and stood by your window. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and nodded.

“I know, I’m just sorry. I got insecure,” you admitted quietly, and Mia nodded before hugging you awkwardly.

“Have fun tonight. Remember, he wants to spend time with you. You’re not a second option,” Mia reassured, and you smiled at her, mentally noting to send her a long and apologetic text after tonight.

Seungcheol, ever the gentleman, walked Mia to her door and waited for her to go inside before hereturned to the car, sat in the driver’s seat, and smiled at you, which you half-heartedly returned.

“Okay, did you and Mia argue before I showed up?” Seungcheol asked, and you shook your head. “Then why did you act as if I overstepped by dropping her home?” Seungcheol questioned, and you sighed.

“Can I blame it on insecurities, and you can drop this?” You asked, and Seungcheol’s face softened.

“I want to spend my night with you, not her. How about I make it up to you over the best cake ever?” Seungcheol suggested, and you nodded, smiling at him.

The drive was filled with the music in Seungcheol’s car and lo-fi remixes, and halfway along the drive, Seungcheol broke the silence.

“So, this place is far, but I promise you it’s the best dessert place in the world. I know the owners, and I’ve known them since I was a kid, so they’re like family, so the food is legit,” Seungcheol rambled, making you smile.

“So busy day, huh?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded as he moved one hand off the steering wheel to lace it with yours.

“Yeah, but seeing you made it all better,” Seungcheol replied, making you smile at him.

“Cute,” you replied, making him grin as he drove.

“What about you? How was your day?” Seungcheol asked, now properly holding your hand as he kept his free hand on the steering wheel and continued to drive.

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t particularly productive. I asked a few clients if they had any upcoming projects I could assist with,” you explained

“Well, you can’t be passive about it. If you want something, you need to chase after it,” Seungcheol explained and then winced slightly. “Fuck sorry, I’ve been with students all day, repeating this shit to them, and I automatically clicked into professor mode; sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, reaching gently to take your hand and bring it to his lips.

“You’re not exactly wrong, but maybe just keep the life coach’s advice for the kids?” You joked, and Seungcheol’s eyes lit up as he pulled into the familiar driveway of the bakery.

“We’re here!” Seungcheol exclaimed excitedly as he parked the car, getting out first and heading to help you.

“Oh,” you said, pointing to your grocery bag.

“Leave it here; it’s cool,” Seungcheol replied.

“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked as he closed the car door behind you and held out his hand for you; you took it, smiling as his large hand engulfed yours, making you feel safe.

“Is that who I think it is?” A voice called out from the bakery’s back, and Seungcheol grinned, hearing the voice as he replied.

“Halmeoni, it is. Cheol is hungry,” Seungcheol said playfully as he guided you into the bakery and a more petite older woman approached Seungcheol.

“Oh, you are getting buffer by the day, and I see it’s paying off. Who is this beautiful woman?” The lady asked, making you smile shyly.

“Y/N, she and I are here on a date, halmeoni,” Seungcheol explained, making you grin even more.

“Well, I’m glad to see you are dating again. After Yoona, I thought I lost you for good,” the lady added, and you felt Seungcheol’s grip on your hand tighten at the mention of Yoona. Lost him how?

“Halmeoni, not now, please,” Seungcheol warned.

“My dear, Y/N, how rude of me. I’m Minji Kim, but you can address me as Halmeoni. Why don’t you two sit? I’ll get you the specials?” Ms. Kim offered.Seungcheol nodded as he guided you inside to find a more secluded booth to sit in.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seungcheol said softly as you sat down. You were about to counter, saying you weren’t planning to ask him, but you decided against it. It wasn’t your place. Not tonight, at least, not on a first date.

“This is our best-selling product and Cheol’s favourite,” Ms. Kim interrupted a couple of minutes later, as she placed a molten cake on the middle of the table and placed down two forks as well.

“Enjoy, kids,” Ms. Kim said before she disappeared.

“I know it looks simple,” Seungcheol started to say, “But this is the best thing ever. Open,” Seungcheol said as he picked up a forkful of the molten cake and moved the fork to your lips. You accepted the cake, letting out a hum of approval as the chocolatey taste filled your mouth.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” you praised, and Seungcheol smirked as he took a bite for himself.

“Halmeoni says the love she pours into the cake makes it so delicious. She’ll never tell me her recipe, even if I beg,” Seungcheol complained, and you laughed at him.

“Isn’t that better? Some things are better left unsaid. It might ruin the magic,” you said, and Seungcheol smiled slightly.

“Ah, the childlike wonder, cute,” Seungcheol said, earning a funny look from you.

“Is that a problem?” You asked, moving your hand away from him. Seungcheol shook his head.

“No, I guess I have a very black-and-white view of the world, and sometimes I fail to account that other people don’t. I like that you see the world with all its beauty and colours,” Seungcheol explained.

“Well, stick around me long enough, and maybe you’ll see the world with a bit more colour?” you suggested, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“We’ll see,” Seungcheol said, and you gathered from his tone that he didn’t fancy discussing this issue further.

“Hey, you’ve got cake on your face,” Seungcheol said, leaning forward, and you assumed he’d wipe the cake off your lips. Instead, you were met with his soft lips. You melted against his lips as they moved against yours, only for him to pull away for a second and then find your lips again. You pulled away this time with a light smile.

“Halmeoni will have the worst impression of me if all I do is make out with you here,” you joked, and Seungcheol smirked.

“I agree. How about we finish this cake, and maybe I can show you how much I wanted to spend my day with you instead of lecturing my students?” Seungcheol suggested, and you couldn’t help how your expression changed.Seungcheol caught onto it as well.

“I didn’t ask you out only to have sex with you, I promise. I want your company, but I also want to be able to hold your hand and maybe steal a few kisses here and there. I’d rather do that in a comfortable setting and not traumatise poor halmeoni,” Seungcheol clarified as he placed another kiss on your lips, and you hummed into the kiss.

“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded.You stood up with him, placing your hand in his, and following him to the counter as he paid for the cake, much to your and halemoni’s protests. Seungcheol smiled as he walked out the bakery door, ensuring to wave to Ms. Kim. You felt yourself becoming more enamoured by his actions.

You concluded that Seungcheol could have a hard exterior, but soft inside, much like the lava cake. He could seem slightly unapproachable with his curt and short replies, but if you dug deep enough, you knew he was filled with nothing but love and warmth, and you were determined to get to know that Seungcheol.

You were determined that you could be that one for him, the one he’d let in.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Seungcheol asked as his voice took you out of your daydream of becoming the future Mrs Choi.

“I enjoyed tonight; well, everything tonight has been so incredible,” you admitted, and Seungcheol turned to smile at you, nearly running through the red light, making you laugh and gasp.

“Fuck, do you think being distracted by you is a valid reason for running a red light?” Seungcheol joked, and you shook your head at him.

“Nope, but I think it’s cute,” you said as you placed your hand on his knee.

“That impatient? We’re almost back at mine,” Seungcheol teased, and you rolled your eyes at him,pinching his knee a bit which made him laugh.

The drive back to Seungcheol’s place was filled with jokes and flirty remarks.Once Seungcheol reached his apartment, he couldn’t park the car soon enough and hurriedly helped you out,practically running to his apartment with your hand in his.

The minute you were inside his apartment, you took a second to take off your red scarf. You placed it on the coat hanger by the door and squealed in surprise when Seungcheol turned you around in his embrace, bending down to lift you into his arms and carry you over to his sofa.

You stared at him, confused. What did he want? Was it just sex? You wondered, and Seungcheol spoke, ending your worries within seconds.

“I just want to hold you like this, in my arms, look,” Seungcheol started to say as he adjusted his position so that you were lying between his body, your chin on his toned chest. “Maybe I’m moving too quickly, but I told you I don’t believe in all that bull shit of following rules. You’re the first person I’ve felt this comfortable with for so long, so forgive me if all this is too much because I can reign it in,” Seungcheol admitted as he stroked your cheek, making you smile.

You sat up for a second tokick off your boots, taking your position back, and laying on his chest. “I don’t need you to reign any of this in,” you reassured. Seungcheol was special; he was older, wiser, and something you had never had. You weren’t about to lose him for the sake of some social constructs relating to dating.

You always felt like people made up or exaggerated when it came to how love made them feel. You had friends, like Mia, who would act like they were on cloud nine or something when they were in love, and you never understood it. It wasn’t because you were traumatised as a child or anything, far from it.

You were a happy kid, but your parents weren’t in love. You knew that your parents stayed married for your sake, and while you would always commend them for that because you knew you could never do that, you never understood the point of pretending. All that to say, you never grew up with a perfect example of what love looked like, and after shitty hookups and your fair share of fuck boys and heartbreak, you gave up on the concept.

You didn’t hate love; you just assumed it was something inconceivable that others got, the lucky ones, and you, you didn’t think you’d ever get it. You had convinced yourself that for so long, until you met Seungcheol, until that first kiss with him.

Now, four months later, you watched your boyfriend working.

That was your man, your safe space, your home. Even though there were petty fights and arguments, you two would make it work because that’s what people do when they’re in love.

They fight for each other.

“Okay, I guess I’m decent-looking enough, but you’ve been staring at my face for the past ten minutes, with a smile on yours,” Seungcheol chuckled as he looked at you.

“Wait, I’ve been staring for that long?” You asked, feeling slightly flustered. Seungcheol nodded as he pulled you closer into his chest.

“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asked as his hand traced patterns lazily on your lower back.

“I just-,” you started to say.“Are you real?” You asked Seungcheol, who furrowed his brows at you.

“What?” Seungcheol asked

“I don’t know, I fuck. I never believed that I could have something like this,” you said shyly, and Seungcheol smiled fondly at you.

“Like what?” Seungcheol encouraged, and you took a deep breath to sit up and adjusted until you sat crossed-legged next to Seungcheol on the bed. He soon followed, sitting up, and leaning against his headboard.

“Like, I always thought love was a beautiful concept, but it was a concept that others would get, not me. I never thought I would find someone who would love me, how you do, how you make me feel when you kiss me, and how I feel when I hold your hand. Seungcheol, I feel safe with you, and that’s something I never associated with love. Love was always so unrealistic to me,” you rambled and paused to look at Seungcheol, who smiled fondly at you.

“That’s why I asked if you were real, or something I made up because I was so desperate to feel loved and to be loved,” you admitted.

Seungcheol placed his hand over yours. “You feel safe with me?” He asked.

“The safest. I feel like I’m floating. When I’m with you, I feel like you’ve taken me to a place so high, where there is nothing but love and safety,” you babbled, letting your feelings pour out and making Seungcheol smile widely at you.

“Fuck, then, this is not a good time to say this is it?” Seungcheol said, and for a second, you felt like you had come down from the proverbial cloud you were floating on.

“Uh, say, what?” You fumbled, and Seungcheol grinned at you before leaning over to kiss your lips softly.

“To say that I love you,” Seungcheol admitted, making your eyes widen.

“To be honest, I’ve been meaning to say it for a while now.I just didn’t know if it was the right time or too soon, and I didn’t want to scare you off or anything, but hearing what you said made me realise that I too have nothing to fear when I’m with you,” Seungcheol confessed, making you? at his words as you moved to crawl into his lap.

“You love me?” You asked.

“I love you,” Seungcheol repeated, and you beamed at him.

“I love you more.”

Four Months Later: The First Crack in the Glass

“How was work?” You asked Seungcheol one evening, and he groaned as he flopped into your bed, wrapped his arms around your waist, and cuddled you, making you smile. Your boyfriend might have been a big shot and a fancy literature professor, but he was a giant teddy bear behind closed doors, and in moments like this, you were reminded of it.

“You want to know?” Seungcheol asked as he sat up and stood up to take off his shirt and pull off his work clothes to change into a more comfortable pair of sweats.

“I was teaching the kids about Sylvia Plath,” Seungcheol said slowly.

“Oh, shit, I’ve heard of her,” you said absentmindedly, and Seungcheol let out a soft hum.

“She’s one of the greatest writers, and you’ve only heard of her?” Seungcheol asked. There was a hint of condescension in his voice, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was a hint of judgment from him.

“Cheol, tell me about her work,” you said, trying to push down the funny feeling his words left you with.

“I mean, what can I say? You smiled, watching him, listening intently as he fell into a soliloquy about Sylvia Plath’s writing. “The woman was troubled. Like any great artist, she used her pain to create beauty. She turned her darkest thoughts into the most beautiful words,” Seungcheol explains.

“Who’s your favourite poet?” Seungcheol asked suddenly, and you shrugged.

“I don’t know if I have one. Literature was something I liked, and I enjoyed everything I read. I don’t think I cared enough to love one author exclusively,” you replied, earning a grunt from Seungcheol.

“You couldn’t have liked it enough if you can’t even tell me a favourite author. What about a poem or novel?” Seungcheol pressed, and you glared at him.

“You sound like an arrogant prick,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed and held up his hands in defeat.

“Okay, I apologise,” Seungcheol said, but the smile on his face made you realise that he didn’t mean it.

“I loved the play A Doll’s House,” you said, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened.

“You’re familiar with Ibsen?” He asked, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.

“Just because I’m not some fancy fucking professor doesn’t make me stupid,” you said, inching away from him, and Seungcheol let out a soft sigh.

“What did you love the most about the play?” Seungcheol asked.

“I guess, like Nora, I too feel like I always need to be a certain way and that people have an expectation of what and how I should be,” you admitted, looking down at your blanket, and you felt Seungcheol pull you into his arms.

“I hope that’s not because of my thoughtless remarks?” Seungcheol asked, cupping your face with his large hands, and you shook your head.

“No, but I guess just life. I just see so many people my age settling down, with a family and kids, and everything, and they have a steady job, and just everything,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“So? That’s their journey, not yours, my love. You will have all those things when it’s right. You don’t need to rush it,” Seungcheol said, and you smiled at him.

“That’s one of my biggest insecurities, and I don’t think I’ve ever voiced it, not even to Mia,” you confessed.

“I appreciate that you trust me with it and know that it’s a feeling that I’ll keep safe with me,” Seungcheol promised his words making you melt.

“You’re my safety net?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded.

“Yep,” Seungcheol responded.

“Oh, babe, my friends wanted to meet you, so I asked them over to dinner at mine, join me? I want to introduce them to the woman, who, I quote, ‘makes me less of a miserable bastard’,” Seungcheol explained.

“I’d love to,” you replied.“Wait, miserable bastard?” You asked, unable to fight the slight grin on your face.

“When Yoona and I ended things, I was a miserable bastard,” Seungcheol explained.

“Um, not to rehash shitty memories…” you started to say, and Seungcheol’s soft smile turned into a harsh glare as he spoke.

“Then don’t. I’m not interested in talking about her, and it’s none of your business,” Seungcheol snapped, and you nodded, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up or attempting to.

“There are some things in life we keep to ourselves, right? For all our lives, a secret we take to our grave, Yoona, is that for me,” Seungcheol explained, and you sighed in acceptance, wondering how awful that relationship could have been for him to be still so resentful.

“I get it. You’ll never hear her name from me again,” you vowed.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol breathed out.

“Fuck, does this dress look okay?” You asked, waltzing out of Seungcheol’s bathroom in a black cocktail dress. Seungcheol barely looked up as he placed the wine glasses on the dinner table.

“Cheol,” you huffed, and he looked up at you.

“My friends will like you; they don’t care about what you wear,” Seungcheol said, and you walked over to the dining table with a sigh

“I get that, but still,” you trailed off, and Seungcheol shrugged.

You were about to respond when the doorbell rang. “Cool, they’re here. Just be yourself. They’ll like you,” Seungcheol affirmed, and you sighed, nodding, as you watched him open the door for his guests.

“Jeonghan, Chan, Mingyu, and Joshua, this my love, Y/N,” Seungcheol introduced you proudly, waving towards you as the four men walked into the house.You smiled and waved at them awkwardly.

“Why don’t we get a few drinks, and then we can all get acquainted?” Seungcheol offered, and the rest agreed with nods and hums.

“So, what do you do?” Jeonghan asked.

“Well, I’m a web designer, so I do a lot of freelance work,” you explained, and Jeonghan nodded, smiling. “That’s incredibly impressive,” Jeonghan complimented.

“What do you do?” You asked, and Jeonghan took a sip of his wine before answering.

“I also work with your boyfriend, except I teach law,” Jeonghan replied, and you nodded.

You were about to reply when you were suddenly interrupted by Seungcheol. “Oh, Jeonghan, don’t bore her; she’s not into the academia,” Seungcheol said. You knew he meant no harm by it, but it made you feel like an idiot.

Did your boyfriend think you weren’t smart enough to converse with someone other than him?

“Well, everyone likes criminal law, murders, and stuff,” Jeonghan joked, attempting to ease the tension, as he noticed how your face fell with Seungcheol’s comment.

“I know, I love watching crime documentaries,” you added. “Same. What would you say are your favourites? Forensic files?” Jeonghan asked.

“Y/N, you know that watching a documentary on crime, especially an extremely overproduced TV show, does not mean you understand the details of the law. You watch crime shows because you find it cool, but Jeonghan teaches the law. He respects and appreciates it immensely,” Seungcheol added, and you baulked at his words.

“Ignore him, Y/N, this pompous literature professor thinks that if you don’t like Sylvia Plath, you’re a disgrace as a reader. Seungcheol can’t understand that while her work is untouchable, it’s too much, and that’s not a mark of one’s intelligence. Rather what they like,” Jeonghan said. His last words were directed to Seungcheol and were emphasised with a particularly intense glare at him.

“Cheol, why don’t you look after the kids? Yeah, I think Joshua said something about replacing all your vintage books with decoys,” Jeonghan offered, and you were thankful for his comment as Seungcheol stalked off to the kitchen.

Jeonghan looked at you sympathetically before motioning for another man to join you in the conversation. He looked younger, and he had a bright smile.

“This is Chan. He’s the baby of the group,” Jeonghan said, and you couldn’t help but think that his words were a dig at you, but you saw no malice in his voice. He just wanted you to meet another face.

You started a conversation with Jeonghan and Chan; this time, it was just about lighthearted topics. Thankfully, Seungcheol didn’t interrupt with a patronising comment.

“Dinner’s set!” Seungcheol announced, and you sighed. You finally felt better about what happened between you two earlier, but you decided to swallow your pride and join him at the dining table.

“No way you did all this, Cheol,” A man you vaguely remember called Mingyu mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed.

“True, my love here..” Seungcheol said as he moved closer to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in to kiss your cheek softly.

“She helped. I would have burnt the bloody house down,” Seungcheol said.You took a deep breath before nodding in agreement.

You decided you’d chalk up Seungcheol’s initial crappy behaviour to him just being nervous, and maybe he just wanted to save you from a boring conversation but just had a terrible way of executing his plan.

You’d let it go and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

Except, that didn’t go to plan. Several minutes into the conversation, Seungcheol’s grip on your hand loosened, and by the time dessert was placed, Seungcheol had his chair tilted so that his back was facing you and no longer looking at you or engaging you in the conversation.

You felt awkward. Everyone in the room knew each other except you. You were the odd one out, and your boyfriend seemed completely fine ignoring you, too. You didn’t want him to coddle you, but you didn’t expect him to turn his back on you.

You placed your hand on Seungcheol’s back once to get his attention, but he merely shrugged it off, and you felt tears threatening to spill, so you politely and wordlessly excused yourself, not that anyone noticed.

You excused yourself to Seungcheol’s study, where you found yourself a bottle of wine, and decided to sip that and stayed all night and didn’t emerge until after dinner and his friends left.

“Hey, I thought I’d find you here. Why didn’t you join us for dinner? I told them you came down with a headache, but I got to say you didn’t make me look good, doing that,” Seungcheol explained as he walked into his study, and you rolled your eyes at him as you took another sip of your wine.

“I just wanted to introduce you to my friends, and you just decided you couldn’t be bothered?” Seungcheol scolds, and you scoff.

“Why are you so pissed off?” Seungcheol asked as he sat across you, and you stood up and walked over to the window.

“I’m not pissed off. Who said I was pissed off?” You said sarcastically, and Seungcheol sighed.

“You’re acting pissed off,” Seungcheol added. You sighed before speaking.

“You acted like I was a fucking dumbass; what the hell was the comment you gave to Jeonghan? That I’m not into academia, or that I can't understand the law because I watch a Netflix show about crime? You made me look like a fucking moron,” you spat.

“Look, whenever I try to show you anything about my work, you get bored, and you either fall asleep or can’t keep up. I was trying to save you that with Jeonghan,” Seungcheol replied, and you stared at him in shock.

“I don’t fall asleep because I’m not interested. I fall asleep because you talk to me like a student. You lecture me; if you spoke to me about your work the way you do with your friends, with that same enthusiasm, then maybe I’d pay more attention, but you fucking don’t!” You shot back, making Seungcheol sigh.

“So, what was I meant to do? Let you try and have a conversation with Jeonghan about the law, something you know nothing about?” Seungcheol asked, and you nearly slapped the smug look off his face.

“Fuck you. You don’t need to have a master’s degree or prior knowledge about a subject to be interested in it and for fucks sake. I just wanted to get to know your friends, but whenever I tried, you intercepted the conversation with a comment that just made me sound like a fucking child,” you yelled at him, and Seungcheol groaned.

“This was meant to be a good night, and you’re making it all about you,” Seungcheol mumbled.

“Me? How? You barely acknowledged me, you turned your fucking chair around and didn’t look at me during dinner. You barely tried to include me. Your friends, they’re all older than me, and you made no fucking effort to include me,” you yelled at Seungcheol.

“You have a mouth. You could speak up. No one would stop you,” Seungcheol offered, earning a glare from you.

“Why would I fucking do that? Whenever I contribute anything, you show up to either call me an idiot, or when I do try to get your attention actively, you fucking shrug me off. Do you know how that feels?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“Fuck don’t cry. That’s not fucking fair. I don’t even remember the fact I shrugged you off. You can’t attack me for something I don’t even know about,” Seungcheol retaliated.

“Fuck can you just acknowledge that you fucked up a little bit? You’re making me feel so fucking stupid,” you choked out, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“I don’t think I’m making you feel that way. I think you’re making yourself feel that way,” Seungcheol offered, and you glared at him.

“Fine, then, if I’m so fucking stupid. Then, I should just let you be. I’m going home. I don’t want you to feel even more stupid with me around,” you snarled, slamming your wine glass down hard enough to startle Seungcheol but not hard enough to break the glass.

You stormed out of the room as Seungcheol helplessly followed after you. “Wait, Y/N, fucking wait. It’s late, please just stay until the morning, and I’ll drop you off; I can’t drive you home yet, I’ve had too much to drink for it to be safe,” Seungcheol argued, and you scowled at him.

“I don’t fucking need this. I can take a cab,” you said, grabbing your phone, and Seungcheol shook his head at you.

“Not a fucking chance, not so late, please; just let me sober up, and I’ll drive you back?” Seungcheol pleaded, and you gave in.

“I’m going to clean up,” you said, shoving past him and heading into the kitchen as you started to clean up the mess.

“Let me help,” Seungcheol offered, and you ignored him. “Babe, please, I’m fucking sorry, just let me help you?” Seungcheol asked again, and you failed to notice how close he was standing next to you. You bumped into him, managing to drench yourself in red wine.

“Fuck,” you hissed out as the tears threatened to spill over.

“Go, take a shower, I’ll clean up,” Seungcheol said, taking the glasses out of your hands, and you nodded as you silently walked back to the bedroom and stripped, putting your black dress in the laundry hamper and stepping into the shower.

You felt the tears stream down your face. As you washed up, you started to rationalise the fight in your mind. Maybe you had overreacted, or maybe Seungcheol just got caught up in the moment, hell you’ve been guilty of that yourself when you meet your friends, so why should you hold him to a different standard?

You stepped out of the shower, wrapped yourself in one of Seungcheol’s fluffy white towels, and headed out of the bathroom to find Seungcheol sitting looking forlorn on the edge of the bed.

“I’m fucking sorry,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you sighed as you leant against the wall.

“I may have overreacted a bit. I just wanted to feel loved, but I get it, time and place,” you said.

“I do love you, and tonight I acted like a fucking ass. I just wanted to impress my friends, and I did it at your expense. Can you forgive me?” Seungcheol asked.

“I can,” you said, holding out your hand to him, which he took and walked over until he was towering over you.

“How can I make it up to you?” Seungcheol asked as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, which you gladly reciprocated.

“Well,” you started to say as you undid the towel, letting it drop to the floor, and Seungcheol smiled at you.

“You want to make it up to me, Cheol?” Seungcheol nodded furiously. You reached down and placed your hand gently on the top of his head and moved his head so his face was at your cunt.

“Show me how sorry you are,” you said, guiding his head into your pussy. Seungcheol gently pushed your back into the wall. He lifted your leg and wrapped it around his shoulder. He started by placing soft kisses, gently kissing your cunt. He ran his tongue over your folds, moaning as he tasted your arousal.

“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised and dove back in with more desperation. He moved his tongue to your clit, and flicked his tongue against it. You moaned in approval, and he continued his movements.

He suddenly pulled his mouth away from your core, lifted you, and walked over to your bed. He laid you down gently, and his mouth found your cunt again. Seungcheol positioned himself on his knees at the edge of the bed, his tongue now reaching your entrance. He pushed his tongue inside you, and you mewled at the feeling. He shoved his tongue further into your cunt, and his hand reached your clit.

He rubbed at the swollen nub, and you soon found yourself cumming on his tongue. Your hips bucked against his face as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you got down from your high, Seungcheol shoved two fingers into your pussy making you squeal at the oversensitivity.

He pushed his fingers deep inside of you until he reached a rough patch of skin, and you squealed. He smirked, and he started moving his wrist up and down, making his fingers repeatedly hit the spot inside you. It had you seeing stars.

Your second orgasm hit you harder as you felt yourself squirt for him. You were clawing at the bedsheet for support; the way he made your body feel was incredible. He latched his full lips around your swollen clit as he furiously pumped his fingers inside you, and a few short licks and you fell apart again.

You whimpered into the bedsheet, which was now soaking wet, and you reached your hands out for him. He smirked, and he pushed you back further onto the bed as he stripped himself. Seungcheol then climbed over and on top of you. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. His hard cock was resting against your aching cunt. Just seeing his length made you delirious.

He was so thick the first time you had sex with him, you couldn’t even comprehend his thickness. He made you feel so full and had indeed ruined you for other men. His length was perfect, it was able to go deep inside you, and the thickness another word allowed you to feel so good. He filled you up. You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. He pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch.

His hands moved to unwrap your legs and positioned them around his neck. The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt. His thrusts were paced perfectly. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan.

“Harder, Cheol,” you whimpered, and Seungcheol smirked. He pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. He realigned himself and pushed into you.

You and Seungcheol always played rough and pushed each other beyond your limits. Your pussy was making obscene noises as you had cummed so hard. He picked up his pace, knowing he would not last much longer, and his grip went to your throat. You somehow found the ability to tap his hand, letting him know to choke you harder. You liked it, and so did he.

His grip around you tightened. He pushed into you, and you fell apart again. This time, you screamed into the pillow, and Seungcheol released not too long after you. He flipped you back over, laying you down on your back. He moved down again to your pussy, and licked and sucked. He moaned, tasting your release and his.

He always did this; he wanted to lick your pussy after cumming inside you. You didn’t complain. A few more licks and one final suck to your entrance, and you came once again. He placed the last kiss on your cunt and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m still so fucking sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, and you rolled over to place your head on his chest.

“It’s okay, just don’t do it again?” You said, and Seungcheol nodded, pulling you into a soft kiss as he held you until you fell asleep in his arms. The feeling of safety was still there, but why did it feel like there was a slight tear in the safety net that was your love?

You shook it off, thinking it was expected. Couples fought.

You two would be fine.

“Morning gorgeous,” Seungcheol mumbled the following day as he wrapped his arms around your waist while you made tea.

“Hi,” you replied, turning around to face him as he pulled you into a soft kiss.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Seungcheol said, and you looked at him nervously.

“Chill, it’s not a bad thing. Well it is, but it doesn’t affect us,” Seungcheol explained as he guided you into the living room and onto the sofa.

“Yoona, she was my first love, my first everything. Well, not everything, but she sure felt like it. I thought she and I would be together for the rest of our lives. I proposed, and she said yes, and somewhere along the road, everything went wrong. I found out she cheated several times while we were engaged,” Seungcheol explained as you held your breath.

“So, whenever she is mentioned, I get agitated because she ruined me and made me cynical until I met you. You make me happy, happier than I’ve been in a very long time,” Seungcheol explained, and you sighed, feeling terrible for him.

“I want to continue making you happy for a long time, Seungcheol. I won’t ever hurt you like her,” you promised, making him smile at you.

“I love you, and I’m sorry for last night. Look, there’s a cocktail party at the university next Friday evening. I’d like you there and want to show you off to everyone. I want to show off my girl,” Seungcheol said proudly.

“I’d like that,” you said, placing your lips on his plush ones.

You, too, would be fine. It was a slip-up, not a crack in the safety net—just a slip.

“Good god, I was starting to think that Seungcheol had kidnapped you or something,” Mia joked, making you laugh nervously as she entered your apartment and hugged you tightly.

“Why would you think that?” You asked, genuinely concerned about why your best friend had such a vivid imagination.

“Well, you’ve only spoken to me a few times within the four months that you and Seungcheol have been dating, and I say this with as much honesty as I can. Don’t become one of those girls that ditches all her friends once she finds a guy,” Mia joked, but you knew there was some weight to her words.

“Mia, that was in university, and it happened once. I’m not the same person anymore,” you defended, and Mia nodded.

“So why did you want me to come over, girls’ night, or trouble in paradise?” Mia asked, and how you chewed your bottom lip nervously was enough of a tell for Mia to sigh and understand.

“Why don’t you sit? I’ll grab the wine, and I’ll explain everything,” you explained another word, and Mia nodded as she kicked off her shoes and got comfortable on your couch.

You handed her a glass of cabernet and held another glass for yourself as you sat down on the sofa and started telling her about every detail for the last four months. It was going well until you finished recalling the details of last night’s fight.

“Wait, he did fucking what, and you fucking forgave him? Why because he made you cum?” Mia accused, and you cringed. You had just finished recounting the entire story of the dinner with Seungcheol.

“He made a mistake,” you mumbled, and Mia scoffed. “A mistake is forgetting to order dessert, not ignoring your girlfriend, or treating her like she’s a bumbling idiot!” Mia fired back, making you sink into your seat.

“Sorry, you need to talk to him about this. Sex is not an apology, and why did you forgive him? Did he just gaslight you into forgiving him? Is that what happened? Did he say that you’re being crazy or shit like that?” Mia interrogated, and you kept shrinking in your seat.

“Mia, shut up. Stop using such extreme words for him,” you whimpered. You didn’t like how loud her voice had gotten, and she sighed.

“He used sex as an apology. Y/N, do you not know how big of a red flag that is? And the fact that you gave in makes it even worse because you’ve now set the precedent that he can pull this sort of shit with you, and you’ll forgive him if he makes you cum hard enough!” Mia rattled off, and you wanted to smack her if it meant shutting her up. Instead of being rational, you decided to defend your boyfriend, even if it meant doing it at the expense of hurting your best friend.

“Mia fuck you. You were in a relationship with, what was that guy’s name, you remember, the one who cheated on you for four months straight, and you kept taking him back. You’re going to lecture me about being spineless in my relationship when you let a guy walk all over you for four months straight because you were so fucking desperate!” You snarled and regretted the minute the words left your lips because you saw how hurt overtook Mia’s face and how her lower lips trembled.

“I haven’t seen this side of you in a while. You were like this in university, where once you fell for a guy, you became blind to his every flaw and then lashed out at anyone who tried to tell you otherwise. You know what, Y/N, you know where I live. Find me when you decide to take off your rose-coloured glasses. I can’t bear the sight of you right now,” Mia said, placing the wine glass down on your coffee table and storming out of your house.

You felt awful, but Mia was wrong to assume that Seungcheol would use sex as an apology instead of actually apologising instead. You shook your head and sighed, finishing your glass of wine. You would reach out to Mia eventually.

“Fucking hell, you look beautiful, my love. I might just be the luckiest man alive,” Seungcheol praised as you stepped out of your bedroom.

You wore a red evening gown that exposed enough of your chest to be enticing but also respectable for a formal event at a university. You topped off your look with makeup that brought out your best features and slipped on red strappy heels.

“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked.You looked up at him. He was wearing a black suit, and you honestly wanted to skip the university party and have him take you right here. Now, as if he could read your thoughts, Seungcheol laughed.

“Don’t worry, you can rip this suit off me after tonight,” Seungcheol said, making you laugh too as you took his hand and headed to the party.

“Y/N! So lovely to see you again,” Jeonghan greeted when you and Seungcheol entered the venue.

“What about me?” Seungcheol joked childishly, making Jeonghan roll his eyes.

“Needy, isn’t he?” Jeonghan teased, and you laughed.

“But you love me,” Seungcheol said, and you smiled

“I do,” you said, making him smile backbefore he looked up, and he suddenly froze as his eyes fixated on a figure across the room.

“Cheol?” You asked, noticing how Jeonghan also looked tense as both men intently stared at the figure, now making her way across the room to greet them.

“Jeonghan, my favourite law professor, you know my students miss you dearly!” The lady joked.

“Yoona,” Jeonghan acknowledged, and you, like Seungcheol, felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

This was Yoona?

This was the woman that broke Seungcheol’s heart? This woman, who Seungcheol failed to explain, worked alongside him. She was a colleague of his. He saw her every day at work, and nowhere during the four months did he think to mention that he still worked alongside his ex-fiancé.

You also felt Seungcheol let go of your hand, and you could have sworn he inched away from you.

“Seungcheol, it’s so lovely to see you, and who might this be?” Yoona asked as her gaze turned to you, making you gulp and then pale in horror as Seungcheol could not answer for a second.

“She’s a friend,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you saw Jeonghan shake his head slightly, and you sighed at him, holding your hand to out to Yoona

“Pleasure to meet you. How do you know Seungcheol?” You asked, feigning innocence, and you heard Seungcheol fail to bite back a hiss.

“I’m a colleague of his, and oh, I guess we have some history, actually pun intended on that.I teach art history here. Are you a prospective student?” Yoona asked, and you stared at her and looked back to see Seungcheol ’s poker face staring back at you.

“No, I’m not a student. I’m amazed that you’d think that,” you replied, unable to keep the slight bite use a different word your tone had to it.

“Well, what do you?” Yoona asked, and you were about to answer when Yoona beat you to the punch.

“Well, you must be a fellow academic. Our Cheol here has a type,” Yoona said as she shot you a wink and waltzed away from the conversation, leaving you a mess and Seungcheol angry.

“Okay, I’m going to leave you two to it,” Jeonghan said as he rushed off too. You started to feel the room close in on you and you just wanted to leave.

“Would you excuse me? I need to make a phone call,” you said hastily as you ripped your arm out of Seungcheol’s hold and nearly ran out of the ballroom and outside to a quieter area of the venue until you found a secluded bench to sit on as you gathered your thoughts.

“I thought I’d find you here,” you turned around to see Seungcheol standing, staring at you withhis hands in his pockets and looking at you with an emotion you couldn’t decipher. Was it guilt or annoyance?

“That’s Yoona?” You asked, and Seungcheol simply stared at you.

“The Yoona?” You repeated, and Seungcheol sighed, nodding as he walked over to stand across from you. You could not look at him.

“What?” Seungcheol asked, and you let out a dry laugh at his ability to be so damn obtuse.

“This is the woman who broke your fucking heart. You work alongside her, and you never once thought to, oh, I don’t know, mention that she is not only your ex but your fucking colleague?” You snarled another word, and Seungcheol sighed.

“Grow up, adultshave to- what?” Seungcheol paused mid-speech when he saw you glaring at him.

“Do not fucking patronise me. This is not an age issue. Your ex,who at the mention of her name, you become a frigid bastard.You failed to mention that you work with her!” You repeated, raising your voice.

“What do you fucking expect me to do to? Run away? We met here, fuck, I’m a grown man. I can’t run from my problems!” Seungcheol shouted back, and you sighed.

“You don’t get it do you?” You choked out.

“No, because you’re acting like a fucking child, and I am not one. I need to deal with every situation, no matter how unpleasant it is!” Seungcheol spat.

“Fuck, shut the fuck up about being more mature because you’re not, not even for a fucking second. How the fuck do you expect to have a future with me when your past is there in front of your eyes every fucking day, and the worst part is that you never told me. You act as if I gave you this new lease on love, but now I don’t know if that’s something you can sustain because the woman who broke your heart is your colleague. What if one day she wants to try again? How do I know that I know that you won’t go running?” You rambled, letting a tear slide down your face.

“You’re being selfish and so fucking unfair,” Seungcheol retorted.“Do you not think so?” Seungcheol asked rhetorically

.“Fucking hell, I told you she cheated on me while I was fucking engaged. Do you think I have no dignity or some shit that I’d go back running to the woman who ruined me?” Seungcheol yelled, and you shrank into yourself.

“Can you just do what I do, and fucking grow up and realise that in life you need to put up with people who you may not what anything to do with, but that’s what being an adult is like?” Seungcheol continued to yell, each word piercing your heart.

“Oh, then again, what would you fucking know about being an adult? You are a 25-year-old with no fucking direction in life. You have no stable job or anything stable. In contrast, all your friends are either settling down, and you fuck, you sit at home with no motivation to go out and find yourself some work,” Seungcheol yelled, using your biggest insecurity against you.

“You have no fucking stability, and you act like a fucking child, so don’t you dare lecture me on how to behave,” Seungcheol spat and then sighed deeply when he realised what he said.

“Y/N-,” Seungcheol started to say, and you held your hand up to him.

“No, fuck don’t, Cheol, don’t you fucking dare. You used my biggest insecurity against me. Who the fuck does that, huh?” You asked, and Seungcheol sighed, looking down.

“As for stability, you’re right. I don’t have a ton, but if there was something that I thought gave me some semblance of stability, I thought it’d be you.I thought that at least it would you, but you aren’t my safety net anymore, are you?” You yelled, and Seungcheol looked down in shame.

“I’m sorry. I told you seeing her makes me turn into something else!” Seungcheol weakly defended, and you glared at him.

“No. Fuck you, you don’t get to do this. What about being an adult, huh? Being an adult means not getting set off by every situation that doesn’t favour you. Instead, it’s about finding ways to cope. It’s about setting boundaries, so your past doesn’t hurt you and hurt the people in your present,” you choked out the last word as Seungcheol took a step forward towards you.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol started to say, and you ignored him.

“Just fucking go back to your party. I’m going home. I’ll text you, but please leave me alone for tonight,” you said, pushing past Seungcheol.

“Please let me know when you get home,” Seungcheol said weakly, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I said I would, didn’t I? Now, fucking move,” you spat, storming out of the garden and out of the venue as you waited for your Uber to arrive.

You had barely gotten home that night when you heard someone pounding on your front door. You groaned, knowing it was Seungcheol. You glared at the front door, hoping that if you ignored the incessant pounding, then he’d get the hint and he’d just leave, but Seungcheol was relentless. You knew that.

You sighed, walking to the front door and opening it to reveal your teary-eyed boyfriend.

“Baby, can I please explain?” Seungcheol asked, and you ignored him as you let him into your house, and he closed the front door behind him.

You started walking back into the house, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Once you were inside, you turned to him, and before you could say anything. Seungcheol dropped to his knees, hugging your waist, begging for forgiveness. You ran your hands through his hair.

“Cheol, it’s okay.”

Seungcheol carried you to the shower, where he helped you shower and clean. He helped you dry up and pulled you into his arms once you were both curled up on the bed.

Seungcheol ’s fingers were gently ghosting your cunt. You felt him turn you to face him; he captured your lips in his full ones. His hand finding your core, rubbing your clit, he did this till you fell apart. He repeated that almost four times until he pushed himself inside you till he came.

You couldn’t sleep that night. Only one question plagued your mind.

Since when did sex make up for an apology?

You woke up the following day sore and worn out. Not just from the fight last night that left you out and alone in the cold but also from Seungcheol fucking you into the mattress. You heard faint snores from him, and you took it as an opportunity to get some alone time. You wondered, did he think sex would make up for what had happened?

After showering and cleaning yourself up, you headed to the kitchen to make breakfast, subconsciously making breakfast for two. You were stirring the noodles waiting for the water to boil, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. You felt Seungcheol place kisses along your neck, and you melted into his embrace for a second until the events of last night came back to you.

“Cheol, can you set the table up? I’ll get breakfast ready.” You said and you felt Seungcheol press a kiss to your cheek before running off to set the dining table. Once you made your way over with the contents of breakfast, you sat down and started to eat.

“Baby?” Seungcheol’s voice broke the silence, and you looked up to see him staring at you. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. You felt your heart clench.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry about last night,” Seungcheol started to apologise again; his voice was breaking as he tried to contain himself.

“Which part, Seungcheol? The part where you failed to introduce me as your girlfriend, or the part where you threw my insecurities against me, or the part where you told me to grow the fuck up?” You fumed.

“All of it, all of it,” Seungcheol said, standing up to kneel in front of you. “I fucked up so much, but,” Seungcheol started to say, and you interrupted him.

“If you think that fucking me last night made it better, it didn’t because now I’m wondering if you think sex is the solution to all our problems,” you said.

“Never, I just, I’m shit with words at times, and I knew that at least my actions could prove my love to you. It’s a shit thing to do, but I didn’t do it to distract you from last night,” Seungcheol replied.

“I want to talk about everything, but I want a breakdown of everything. First, why did you pull away from me when you saw Yoona? Were you embarrassed?” you asked, your voice breaking, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“Of course not,” Seungcheol replied swiftly, and you glared at him.

“Because all I do wonder if when you call what we have love, you never call it what it is,” you admitted, and Seungcheol sighed as he stood up.

“Come on, let’s talk on the couch,” Seungcheol offered, and you stood up, taking Seungcheol ’s hand as you walked over to your couch.

“I tell you, I love you,” Seungcheol said, and you nodded.

“You do tell me that you love me, but the way you do it is like it’s a secret,” you mumbled, feeling a tear roll down your cheek.

“I get that I’m younger, and I’m not some fancy professor with a huge savings account, but the way you act at times, you act like you are ashamed of me. Fuck, for Yoona to say that you deviated from your type to date me. What does that mean? Am I some charity case, where you’ll date a non-academic girl, and then later I’ll be a notch in your belt, a funny story to tell over Christmas, with your real wife, and everything?” You babbled as you broke into a sob, and you felt Seungcheol pull you into his arm as he hugged you tightly.

“You think about a future with me?” Seungcheol asked, and you scoffed.

“Is that all you took from everything I just said?” You asked.

“No, but it gave me hope. Look, Yoona brings out the worst in me, and you were right last night to tell me that as adults, we can let that jar us or act out because that’s life, right? Meeting people and getting to know people you may not like is life, but Yoona, at one point, was my life. She was my future until she ruined it. Every time I see her, I lash out because I’m brought back to the headspace that I was in when she cheated,” Seungcheol explained, pausing to take a breath.

“She reminds me of every insecurity I had, she takes me back to a very dark headspace, and instead of working my way out of that, I lash out because fuck, I’m scared that it’ll happen again,” Seungcheol admitted looking down.

“You think I’d cheat on you?” You asked.

“No, but you’re young, gorgeous, and still have so much ahead of you. I woudn’t blame you if you found someone your age,” Seungcheol mumbled, making you scoff again.

“I’m with you, aren’t I? Unless this is your plan? Pushing me so far that I no longer want to be with you? Is that what you’re trying to do?” You asked, and Seungcheol shook his head immediately.

“Then why the fuck is this constantly an issue?” You snapped, and Seungcheol winced slightly at your tone.

“I guess when I first started dating you, you were so different and, in a good way, a fresh breath of air, but everyone around me started joking that maybe you know it was just a fling because we are so opposite at times. However, as the months with you progressed, I know that’s not it.I know I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry that for so long I made you feel otherwise,”

Seungcheol paused to take a breath. “I love you, and I am serious about this. I want to make this work, I do,” Seungcheol admitted another word.

“Then stop lashing out at me and talk to me. Stop running away from me, run to me instead,” you said softly, and Seungcheol smiled at you.

“I didn’t mean what I said about you having no stability. It was so fucking shitty of me to use your insecurity against you. I just, fuck, there’s no excuse, I’m just fucking sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, his head hanging low.

“Yeah, that stung. Look, how about we take a week, cool off, and I guess catch up in a week?” You offered, and Seungcheol agreed.

“How’s this, I’ll plan a getaway for us, and I’ll cook us food too!” Seungcheol suggested, and you laughed.

“I’ll follow a recipe to a tee and have Mingyu monitor me?” Seungcheol proposed making you grin at him.

“Fine, but if I get sick from your food,” you started to say, and Seungcheol laughed.

“Then I’ll kiss it all better for you,” Seungcheol said lamely.

“I’ll see you in a week, my love, and remind you why you fell in love with me,” Seungcheol promised as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you smiled as you watched him walk away.

You let out a breath you didn’t realise that you were holding when he walked away. You nodded to yourself. You and Seungcheol would be fine, this was a slight tear in the safety net, but you two would be fine, you convinced yourself, for it was only a tiny tear.

“Hey,” you mumbled, embarrassed, as Mia opened her front door the following evening.

“What, have you come here to tell me I deserve no love or something?” Mia spat, and you felt like you had been slapped, and looked down in shame. You deserved that much.

“Mia, I fucked up. Can we talk, though?” You asked, holding the box of doughnuts in your hand, and she sighed, nodding as she let you in.

“So, what, I’m assuming the Mr. Perfectly Wrong fucked up again?” Mia mocked, and you sighed as you kicked off your shoes and sat on her couch.

“He was engaged in the past, and she was like his dream girl,” you said, unable to stop the way your voice trembled at recalling Yoona and realising how she was the opposite of you. She was dignified, elegant, older, wiser, or whatever other negative thought you tortured yourself with.

“She still works with him. They both teach at the university; he never told me, Mia. I had to find out because I met her at a university event,” you mumbled, unable to stop the tear that slid down your face.

Mia sighed as she sat down next to you, and you took it as a positive sign to launch into the story of the fight.

“Oh, that mother fucker!” Mia swore, and you flinched at her expression.

“Mia, he was hurt,” you mumbled, and she scoffed.

“How many excuses do you want to give this piece of shit? I get that love is blind. I fucking do. You cruelly pointed it out to me, but let me tell you something, my love, he’s blinded you. He’s no good for you. He’s condescending, judgmental, rude, and worst of all you keep forgiving him when he gives you half-assed apologies!” Mia ranted, making you look down in shame.

“Is that who you want to fucking be with?” Mia asked. “A man who keeps you like a secret, aman who acts like you’re a kid, a man who talks down to you?” You sighed.

“Maybe it’s just a bad spell. He’s not like this, ever,” you defended, and Mia groaned, rubbing her forehead.

“This man, I don’t care how good the sex is or how amazing the good moments are. The good moments aren’t enough to mask that he is inherently flawed and has a complex. A complex that he will project onto you, and you will struggle to try to meet the ideal woman in his head. Still, you’ll try all your life because that woman doesn’t exist, and not to be unkind, but it’s because that woman will never exist for him. He doesn’t know what he wants,” Mia explained, calming down as she sat down next to you.

“He said he loved me,” you mumbled weakly, and Mia nodded.

“I’m not denying that he cares for you, but his ego comes before you, Y/N. You will bend over backward for this man, and you have, but see if he even bothers to put in an ounce of that same effort that you put into this relationship,” Mia continued , and you glared at her.

“You know what? I didn’t come here to be yelled at. I get enough of that from him!” You seethed, and Mia frowned at you.

“There, right there, if you can’t even figure out what’s so fucked up about that sentence, then I don’t know what even to tell you,” Mia said.

“We’ve hit a rough spot, but we’ll be fine,” you shouted, almost as if you were convincing yourself more than Mia.

“You know what, I’ll be here when this illusion is broken,” Mia mumbled, standing up, and you took that as your cue to leave.

You stormed out of Mia’s house and drove straight to Seungcheol’s.

“Baby?” Seungcheol asked when he opened the door and saw your downcast expression.

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol asked, and you shook your head at him.

“Can I stay here? I know we’re meant to meet at the end of the week, but I just need you,” you asked.

“Of course, my love, you know where everything is. I just have to grade one more paper. Then I’ll join you?” Seungcheol asked.

You were so worn out from the week's dramatics that you quickly showered, changed into one of Seungcheol ’s shirts, and headed to bed. You curled up in Seungcheol ’s bed. You smiled when you felt him join you later that night, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Protecting you, never letting you go, he was your safe space.

You woke up the following morning to something stroking your thighs, and you opened your eyes to see Seungcheol ’s head placed between your legs. He was kissing your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your cunt.

You moaned as you spread your legs, placing them onto his shoulders. Seungcheol ’s luscious lips wrapped around your clit.

As he sucked, his pressure was perfect. He pushed in two fingers and thrust them in your cunt, as he sucked on your clit. He licked and fingered until you came around his fingers. Occasionally, he would run his tongue up and down your wet folds but always go back to your cunt.

“Morning, princess,” Seungcheol greeted as he hovered over your body and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. It felt like the first time you slept with him.

Passionate yet soft, you felt loved, and that was not something you felt in his embrace for a while.

“Morning, handsome,” you mumbled sleepily as Seungcheol pulled you on top of him. You felt his cock hard and waiting. You moved and sat up and slowly sank on his length.

“Fuck!” You let out a groan of pleasure. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him.

You wanted to see him fall apart underneath you. You trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You sighed, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt. You hadn’t cum yet, and Seungcheol knew that.

“Princess, over here,” Seungcheol motioned to your mouth, and you moved, legs shaking as you sat on his waiting tongue. Seungcheol, as always, licked you clean of his cum.

You both were still in bed in the afternoon, simply embracing and kissing each other, when Seungcheol spoke, breaking the silence.

“So, do you want to make the trip a little earlier?” Seungcheol asked, and you looked at him, smiling.

“Can you take leave on such short notice?” You asked.

“Baby, it’s reading week for the students, so yes, I don’t need to worry about them for now. I want to focus on us.”

~~A Trip Upstate~~

“Got everything?” You asked Seungcheol for the fifth time. You had to stop yourself from laughing as your boyfriend kept going back and forth between his apartment and his car, forgetting something with each trip.

“Wait, oh, for the fucking love of god. I forgot the car keys,” Seungcheol groaned as he ran back into the house, and you laughed at him some more. You were still laughing when he came back.

“Hi,” Seungcheol said sweetly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, capturing you in a warm hug.

“I like seeing you like this, happy and laughing,” Seungcheol said, making you smile at him.

“Well, you make me laugh and happy,” you admitted, placing your chin on his chest and looking up at him.

“I’ve been fucking that up a lot, but I promise you, this time I won’t fuck up. I love you, and I need to get back to showing you that it’s not an empty promise,” Seungcheol spoke, and you reached up to pull him into a soft kiss.

“I love you, and thank you,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Shall we, my love? There’s a nice cabin I want to take you to upstate, and it has our names written on it,” Seungcheol said , and you nodded as he helped you into the car.

The drive up to the cabin was filled with jokes, laughter, and a few kisses here and there. It felt normal. Like you finally got your Seungcheol back, like all the fights could be forgotten because he was back to normal here. However, that hope ended the second you and Seungcheol started fighting over how to cook a dish.

“Why are you so mean about this? I’m helping you; you don’t even know how to peel a fucking onion!” You snapped at Seungcheol, who was crushing the microwavable rice packet.

“I might not know how to peel a fucking onion, but at least I’m not a 25-something that has no fucking direction in life!” Seungcheol spat back, making you exhale deeply.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol started to say, and you glared at him.

“No, Cheol, what the fuck, what the actual fuck? You’ve been using my insecurity against me twice now, and what-do you think each time you apologise, I’ll come back crawling? Or something? I’m tired of this, and I’m,” you took a deep breath to collect yourself.

You would not let Seungcheol see you fall apart, not when he was the reason behind the tears.

“We’re done,” You stated calmly, glaring at Seungcheol, who didn’t dare follow you as you walked away,.You grabbed your overnight bag and called an Uber, heading out of the cabin.

You weren’t sure if you had properly ended the relationship between the two of you, but you were tired of constantly giving him the benefit of the doubt, and for him to only shatter it the second he felt remotely attacked.

1 Month Later: The Breaking Point

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you mumbled to Mia, who had picked you up from the floor of your house last night. You had called her on your way back home, and thankfully she didn’t ask many questions, and just tried to help you.

Since you left Seungcheol, you didn’t know where you two stood. He made no effort to contact you, so you just assumed that since you yelled. “We are done,” at him, that you were.

Seungcheol took the hint and left you, but what pained you the most was that he could never run after you.

You craved his touch, his voice. You wanted him, but his lack of effort made you think he wanted nothing to do with you. Were you just a waste of time for him?

You thought that what you two had was a masterpiece, or what was that before he tore it all apart? Or was it you? Were you the one who tore it all to pieces?

All that to say, you had held yourself together, well, or at least you could put on a happy face. You just plastered on a fake smile and went on about your day. You put your efforts into your job out of spite.

You wanted to prove to Seungcheol that you weren’t some bumbling idiot, but instead, you were a 25-year-old with things going for her. You wanted him to see you wanted him to be proud of you, but he wasn’t here to see it. Maybe he never cared.

Your breaking point was this afternoon. You had just secured a huge contract, and just as you had signed on the dotted line, you wanted to share it with Seungcheol. You froze mid-text when you realised that he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if you had done something remarkable because you two were done, so why should he care?

So, you started bawling at home and shakily dialed Mia’s number, and that’s when she came to your rescue. She came to find you when you were at your lowest, and you felt guilt engulf you. You had defended Seungcheol to her, insulting her viciously, but she never batted an eyelid.

“You know most people say thank you,” Mia joked, and you sighed.

“I am thankful, trust me, more than you know. I know you want to say I told you so, so go for it,” you snapped, and Mia shook her head as she helped you sit on the couch.

“He lost the one real thing he had. That’s not on you. He never fought enough for you,” Mia explained as she pulled you into a gentle hug, which made you blubber and, thus, make you cry more.

“Nothing, nothing from him, for a fucking month, Mia! Nothing. I thought he loved me and saw a future with me and all that bullshit, but he did not fucking bother, not once, to even be like, are you okay? Nothing, he just, fuck, wait, I think my phone is ringing in the bag. Can you help me grab it?” You asked, and Mia nodded, scrunching her nose at the private number.

“I swear if it’s that fucker calling through a random ass number to get to you, he’s going to get the living lights smacked out of him,” Mia threatened as she handed your phone to you.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hello, Miss Y/N. We have been given your number as an emergency contact. Do you know Mr. Choi Seungcheol ?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” You asked, your voice trembling. What happened to Seungcheol?

“Sorry, I’m Nurse Lee. I’m calling from the Seoul National Hospital. We have been given your number as an emergency, so we are calling to ask if you could come down and sign a few things for us?” You sighed in relief, but only slightly.

You got into your car, not caring if you got a fine for speeding. You reached the hospital and parked, running in your heels to the main lobby. You frantically explained that you got a call and were quickly ushered upstairs to the wards.

You heard laughing and opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend laughing with the doctor. His eyes widened as he saw, and just like that, his laughter faded. The doctor noticed your presence, and he waved you in.

“You must be Y/N. Thank you for coming here. We just need to discharge him, and we need you to sign a few forms for him.” You nodded, still confused, “I’ll be back in around thirty minutes. I’ll let you two catch up.” The doctor left the room and left you both alone.

“Cheol?” You said softly.

Seungcheol wasn’t looking at you. You walked to his bedside when you saw there was enough space. You sat down slowly and held his face in your hands. He reluctantly looked at you.

“What happened?” you asked. You let go of his face so he could talk.

“It’s not a big deal,” He said. You rolled your eyes.

“It is, especially if you’re in the hospital.” You countered.

“Don’t laugh.” He said, warning you. You nodded. “So, long story short, I may have dropped a knife on my foot.” You looked at him, perplexed.

“How?” “I was cooking, and it was going well. Then the knife slid off the counter and onto my foot. I didn’t lose a toe, just a lot of blood. So yeah, by the time I got here, I passed out from blood loss, and I guess that’s why they called you.” He blurted in one go, and you tried to stifle a laugh.

“Seriously?” He said, but you could hear the smile in his voice. His heart warmed at the sight of you smiling. It had been so long since he was the reason for your smile.

“I’m so sorry, but why were you trying to cook?” You asked.

Seungcheol ’s laugh faded, and he paused. “I noticed a lot about me that I’m not good at. Cooking is at the top. I felt as if I could attempt to conquer that maybe I can do more in life,” Seungcheol looked down at his hands covered in wires. You touched his thigh, making him look at you.

“You are good at so much,” you countered, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“Professionally, maybe, but my personality? No. Nothing great there,” Seungcheol said, resignation lacing his tone. You opened your mouth to say something, and Seungcheol spoke first. “I’m not saying this to guilt-trip you into taking me back. After you broke up with me, I started seeing someone,” your hand jerked away from his thigh, which confused Seungcheol until he saw the heartbreak on your face.

“No, Y/N. I meant seeing a professional,” Seungcheol said, laughing.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, unsure what you were apologising for.

“If you think I’m even close to being able to move on from you, you’re insane.”

“Come on, let me drive you home?” You said, Seungcheol nodded.

“I appreciate it, thank you.”

While driving, something occurred to you, and you had to ask. “Cheol, um, how come I was your emergency number? Last I remembered, you said it was Jeonghan?” Seungcheol blushed and scratched his neck.

“Uh, well, it’s embarrassing now, but I changed it three months into us dating,” his confession, making you almost drive through a red light.

“Why?”

“Ugh, I sound so stupid because we’re not together, but I guess I wanted you to know I trust you. I know my actions during our relationship were deeply contradictory to that. I also knew that you would be the one for me.”

“The one? In three months?” You asked.

Seungcheol smiled fondly at you. “Can you pull over?”

Seungcheol fished out his wallet, looked for something, and pulled out a small silver ring.

“Seungcheol, what the fuck?”

“Trust me; it’s not a proposal. I don’t think I’ll be that lucky. I just thought it was something I should get after three months. I wanted to give this to you, but then I hurt you so many times after, and each time, we tried to make it work, and I kept on fucking it up for us. It was a promise ring that I’d never hurt you again, and I guess I failed.” Seungcheol admitted, and you noticed a tear fall down his face.

“Why do you still have the promise ring?” You asked.

“Wishful thinking, I guess?” Seungcheol replied.

“I miss you,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol heard you.

“We can try again,” you offered weakly.

“No, not yet. Let me learn. Let me be a better man for you. If I can’t, then know you deserve so much more,” Seungcheol spoke, and you smiled softly at him.

You resumed driving. Upon reaching Seungcheol ’s house, you pulled up and helped him out of the car and into his apartment. You laughed when you saw the floor covered in blood. It was not a normal reaction, but the backstory was quite amusing.

“Hey, Cheol, why don’t you lie down? I’ll clean this up for you?” You said.

“No, I can manage,”

You glared at him. “Trust me,it’s safer that I do this,” You laughed as you watched him hobble to his bedroom. Thank goodness he didn’t live in a multi-story house.

After cleaning up, you found Seungcheol sitting in his bed, playing music and softly humming. You knocked on his door. Seungcheol smiled and waved you in.

“Hi.”

“Blood’s gone,” you said, and he patted the space next to you, and you sat down on the bed next to him.

“Thank you. Somehow, you’re always cleaning after my mess.”

“Seungcheol, don’t,” your voice firm.

“I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Fuck, come here,” he patted the space in front of him. You carefully moved and sat between his legs so as not to hurt his bandaged foot. Seungcheol pulled your hair to the side, kissing softly on the nape of your neck.

“Just please, don’t break me apart again because I don’t think I’ll recover anymore if you do,” you pleaded, and Seungcheol turned you around in his embrace so that you faced him.

“Never again, I promise,” Seungcheol promised. bullshit

“Okay, so where is your boyfriend?” Mia asked, venom dripping off every word, and you rolled your eyes at her.

“He probably got caught up with work. Can you fucking let it go?” You asked, and Mia shrugged.

“I’m just saying, for a man walking on thin fucking ice, he better at least bother with his girlfriend’s birthday party,” Mia stated before walking out of the room to place balloons in another part of your apartment.

You sighed, knowing she was right, but Seungcheol was busy. Maybe he’d be late, but he’d show up. You kept telling yourself this until midnight when he never showed up, but you were several drinks in and had enough liquid courage to storm over to his place, which is precisely what you did.

You hailed a cab and made the drunken journey to his.

Your conscience was warning you. You paid no attention.

Yousure as hell ignored it for long enough. You could continue to do so.

You knocked on the door, and the door opened to reveal a shirtless Seungcheol in a pair of black sweats. You had lost all sense of rationality, and at this point, you didn’t know what was right or wrong.

“Y/N?” Seungcheol asked, confused, as would anyone. He couldn’t help but take in your appearance, how your cleavage left little to the imagination, but he knew the reality was better, how your heels made your ass seem even rounder. Your face was beautiful as always, but your mascara had run slightly, and your nose was red.

“Can I come in?” You asked. He nodded quickly, letting you in and closing the door behind him.

Seungcheol slowly guided you to the sofa, and he sat down, waiting for you to sit beside him. Instead, you straddled him, your legs on either side of his hips.

“My birthday. I got a crappy, “happy birthday” text from you, and you don’t show up to my party. What the fuck is wrong with you? This is not the attitude from someone who wants another chance,” you fumed, and Seungcheol stared at you sighing. He had no excuse, none whatsoever.

“Y/N, I—” You shut Seungcheol up with a kiss. You rolled your hips against his crotch, and you could feel that underneath his sweats, he was naked. No boxers. You could partially feel his cock against your lace-covered cunt.

“Y/N, I, what’s going on, fuck,” Seungcheol stopped speaking as you started sucking his neck, gently grazing your teeth against his neck andmaking him whimper for you. You felt his cock harden fully underneath you. You pulled away from his neck for a moment.

“Cheol, at this moment, I need to forget that I’m mad at you,” you admitted, and Seungcheol sighed before nodding as his grip on your thighs tightened.

“I’m not saying no; you don’t need to apologise, and you don’t need to leave, but we need to talk when we’re done,” Seungcheol added.

“I will.”

“Good.” Cheol stood up from his position and carried you into the bedroom. And he noticed your makeup had smudged and brought you to the bathroom. He placed you on the counter, his lips immediately finding yours. Kissing you, his lips pulled and sucked on yours. You moaned, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

Seungcheol deepened the kiss. His hands found the straps of your dress; he pushed them down. You hissed as your breasts met the cold air of the room. Seungcheol helped you out of the dress, leaving you in your soaked underwear. He groaned at the sight. His hands went to your legs, pushing the heels off your feet, his lips never leaving yours. He moved his hands to your underwear and pulled it off. He groaned when he saw how wet you were.

He pushed his sweats down and undressed; he stood erect and naked in front of you, and you took a moment to drink in his appearance. Seungcheol guided you into the shower, and you let out a moan, when you felt the warm water hit your skin. Soothing you, you felt Seungcheol turn you around and push your back against the wall. He placed kisses down your neck, his lips finding your breasts. He sucked and nibbled your nipple as his other hand massaged and squeezed and tugged the other breast. Cheol moved his body down yours as his lips found your cunt.

Seungcheol placed a soft kiss. He gently lifted a leg and wrapped it around his broad shoulders. He pushed two fingers inside of you, groaning at how wet you were, where he could practically taste your arousal. He angled his fingers inside you and started to finger you, and his lips found your core, as he ran his tongue against your folds.

He pulled your clit between his teeth, gently grazing the swollen bud. You whimpered. He replaced his teeth with his plush lips. Wrapping them around your clit and sucking as his fingers pounded into you. He kept his movements up until you came. You tightened against his fingers, and your clit throbbed in his mouth as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

Seungcheol gently unhooked your leg from his, and you sank to your knees. You pushed against his toned abs, and his back hit the shower wall. You wrapped your lips around his cock; he was thick. While your hands wrapped around the remainder of his length, you took him and started to suck him. He let out a low growl and a strangled whimper as you continued to suck him. You grazed your nails along his thighs and whimpered, bucking his length into your throat, making you gag slightly. You kept sucking until you felt him still and releasein your mouth.

You smirked as Seungcheol was panting. He pulled you two on your feet and into a sweet kiss. He cleaned the both of you up, his hands finding your face and washing the smudged mascara off your face. He guided you out of the shower and to his bed. You moaned as you felt the soft sheets against your naked body.

Seungcheol couldn’t get enough of you. His eyes drank you in. His mouth was desperate to taste you again. He approached you, lifted your legs, and placed them on his shoulder. His mouth found your cunt again. He started by placing soft kisses against your cunt, knowing where to lick you.

He wasted no time. He dove straight in, his thick tongue flicking against your swollen clit. Your hands made their way into his hair. He pushed in three fingers this time. He lapped at your arousal while you whimpered in oversensitivity. It didn’t take much after that for you to cum on his tongue.

Seungcheol rubbed his cock against your wet folds several times and then pushed in. You hissed as the stretch was quite intense after two orgasms, but he felt so good. You tugged on his hair, making him look up at you. You brushed your thigh against his hardened length, and he wasted no time.

“Move”, you whispered, and that’s all it took for Seungcheol to lift your legs and place them on his shoulders, allowing him to hit deeper inside you. His thrusts were rough, and each time, he would withdraw only to push back harder and deeper.

He leaned down and captured your lips in his. You melted into the kiss while he pounded into your cunt. You were a mumbling and moaning mess underneath him. You felt yourself clench around this length, making him groan into the kiss. He pushed a few more times until you fell apart on his cock.

He pulled out of you gently and laid down beside you.

You woke up a few hours later, not realising you had fallen asleep.

You woke up to at least thirty texts and missed calls from Mia, and you sighed, stepping out of Seungcheol’s bedroom to call her. You quickly told her what happened last night, and Mia could only relay her disappointment.

“Do you not see how far gone you are, Y/N; you’re making excuses for him. People like him don’t do this just once.”

“He was busy and couldn’t make it,” you explained, and Mia scoffed.

“Y/N, I’m telling you as someone who has been through something like this. He will leave you broken.” You scoffed, and your following words were nothing but pure venom.

“Mia, you had a relatively hot boyfriend, and he dumped your ass. So I guess you’re not too different to me since the only thing you’re good for is looking the way you do. You couldn’t keep him either..” You kept your voice stern and firm.

Mia groaned. “I won’t ever say I told you so, but when the inevitable happens, you know where to find me. I’ll listen because I know you won’t.” With that, Mia hung up.

You sank to the floor.

How did a loving relationship with your boyfriend leave you so drained and lashing out at others to defend him? What went wrong?

“Hey, did I interrupt something?” Seungcheol asked, startling you, and you stood up, shaking your head. You didn’t want to get into it with him right now.

“Here,” Seungcheol said, handing you a coffee mug, and you nodded, taking it.

“You’re right. My actions last night weren’t of a boyfriend trying hard to prove that he’s worthy of being with you,” Seungcheol explained, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m tired of hearing you apologise. I need you to show me that you’re fucking sorry,” you said .

“What about a date tomorrow? There’s a gala at my university. Don’t worry, it won’t be like last time, I promise,” Seungcheol begged, and you sighed, nodding.

You weren’t exactly sure what made you want to give him a second chance, but maybe because you loved him or the idea of him, you weren’t entirely sure which one. You just knew that regardless of what the situation was with you two. With him, it still felt like home somehow.

DIVDER:

You and Seungcheol walked hand in hand to his gala; this time, he wasn’t distant, curt, or moody. He was jovial, greeted everyone, and introduced you until Yoona entered the picture.

Seungcheol wasn’t flirting, but he sure as hell didn’t bother to hide how happy and excited he was to see his ex, considering he spent nearly 45 minutes talking to her. You stormed out of the venue and waited by his car until he noticed.. oblivious to your anger.

“Waiting long?” Seungcheol asked, and you scoffed.

“I’m amazed you remembered I existed. You seemed to be taken by Yoona. I thought I was a distant memory,” you mocked, earning a glare from Seungcheol.

“Let’s just go home, yeah?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded, following him into his car.This time, he didn’t help you in.“When the fuck did I give you a reason to think I’d cheat? How many times do I need to fucking tell you that Yoona and I are done?” Seungcheol bellowed suddenly, and you sighed.

“That’s not the fucking point!” You yelled back, and Seungcheol sighed, loosening his tie.

“The point is that you always gloss over our problems, you always act like I’m a child or something, and you never tell me the truth. When I get mad, you act like I’m insane even to be upset. Do you know how that fucking feels?” You yelled, and Seungcheol glared at you.

“Not my fucking problem thatyou don’t understand how the fuck relationships work, or maybe you’re too fucking immature to make one work,” Seungcheol hissed as his grip on the steering wheel only got tighter.

“This is so fucking rich coming from you considering the fucking fact your ex dumped you, and yet you’re so obsessed with her that you didn’t care that she cheated on you. Instead of spending the night with me, someone who loves you, you cosied up to someone who walked all over you!” You yelled.

“Y/N, get out of the car before I make you!” Seungcheol yelled, making you whimper at his tone and words.

“Seungcheol, please, I’m so sorry,” you were begging, but Seungcheol ignored you. He leaned over and opened the car door. You looked at him; his eyes were trained on the road ahead.

“Seungcheol, please don’t do this,” you begged. You knew you couldn’t change his mind, but you were scared. He didn’t seem to care. You reluctantly exited the car, gently closing the door behind you. Seungcheol wasted no time, and he sped away, drove off, and left you alone in the dark.

You were freezing, and your outfit did nothing to counter the cold. You let out a sob, your feet in absolute agony from the heels, and your mind an emotional mess. You pulled your phone out of your purse to call someone. You called Seungcheol, no response. You sighed more. Seeing as he would ignore you the entire night, you called the last person you could think of.

“Y/N? What? It’s two in the morning. What do you want?” Mia’s voice was hoarse and laced with sleep. You tried to reply but couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your throat.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mia asked, her voice now concerned.

“I don’t know where I am, and it’s dark and cold. I’m so sorry for disturbing you. I shouldn’t have—”

“Y/N, stop, pin me your location. I’m coming to get you,” You sobbed out a thank you and sent her your location.

Around twenty minutes later, you saw a car enter the empty street, and it screeched to a halt suddenly. Mia stepped out with a coat and ran towards you. She wrapped the coat around your body. She didn’t ask questions; she just guided you to heris car.

“Let’s get you home,” Mia said. She was fuming, but she was scared that if she yelled at you now—which she surely would, she’d break you into two.

“Do you want me to come in?” Mia asked as she pulled up outside your apartment, and you shook your head.

“I just need time alone, but thank you, Mia,” you said, who nodded as she watched you leave the car before waving to you and driving off.

“Baby! You’re safe!” You turned around to see Seungcheol running after you, and you sighed as you walked into your apartment. Seungcheol followed you, and this scene was one you knew all too well.

“You threw me out of the car!” You yelled the minute you were inside the apartment.

“I was scaredI’d say something worse if you stayed. I was trying to mitigate further damage.”

You rolled your eyes at him.“You’re a fucking moron.”

“I am, but I came back, I—” you interrupted him.

“For what? To apologise?” You asked, and you hated that hope still coated your words.

“No, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, you’re acting so fucking immature, but we’re not good for each other. I need someone who gets me. I can’t coddle you every five seconds because you got your fucking feelings hurt,” Seungcheol said, finality lacing his words.

“So, if we were closer in age, we would have worked?” You asked, and Seungcheol sighed, nodding.

“I’ll send someone for my things, and I’ll mail your things back to you by the end of the week,” Seungcheol mumbled as he walked out of your apartment.

He left as quickly as he came into your life. You’d experienced heartbreak before, but nothing like this. You wanted to die. You tried to stop feeling because the pain manifested into physical pain as you felt your entire body go numb and limp. You couldn’t handle it, and you felt all too much all at once.

The Reeling

It had been two weeks since Seungcheol broke up with you and after he returned your things to youin a box with no goodbye letter and nothing to give you any semblance of closure, you impulsively booked a train ticket to see your folks

If Seungcheol didn’t want to coddle you, you tried to find comfort in the two people you knew would.

“Y/N?” She was confused by how upset you were. Your mother practically yelled when she saw you at the front door, and you burst into tears the minute she saw you and hugged her.

“I missed you,” you cried into her arms while she was happy to see you.

“Come in. Why don’t you go to your room freshen up?” You nodded.

“Hi, stranger.” You said, scaring your father, who was too engrossed in a crossword puzzle.

“Y/N!” He yelled, standing up to hug you.

“Oh, who’s ass do I need to kick for you crying?” You shook your head.

“No one, I just missed you guys,” you lied, and your parents nodded knowingly.

“Freshen up, honey. We’ll be right here with food and a drink?” You nodded at your mother and headed to shower

“Seungcheol,” You answered your phone that was ringing. You had just gotten out of the shower and were drying your hair.

“Uh, hi. Sorry, I wanted to pick up my hoodie. I left it at yours, but you weren’t there, and I just wanted to check when you’d be back so I could get it?” Seungcheol asked, so casually, so casually cruel.

At least he was honest. You knew nothing was left there anymore,

“I’m visiting my folks; I’ll send it to yours when I’m back,” you said, keeping your tone neutral and devoid of emotions.

“Cool. Thanks,” Seungcheol said, hanging up before you could get a word out.

You broke down again. He called you, only to break you all over again.

“So, it’s a boy problem? It’s got to be,” your father mused after dinner. You two and your mother were in the living room, sipping wine and catching up.

“I was a fucking idiot. I gave him a chance after chance,he walked all over me, and I let him because I loved him,” you whined to your parents, who smiled sympathetically at you.

“I would rather you didn’t call yourself that. I didn’t raise one.” You smiled at your dad’s attempt to be funny.

“Well, I was,” You sighed, sipping the wine. You decided you’d tell your parents everything aside from the ridiculous amounts of sex that led you up to this moment.

“Why did you want to try so hard to keep him?” Your mother asked, and you shrugged.

“Because I loved him, or so I thought I did, but love shouldn’t hurt this much,” you mumbled. “You know what? I was right when I believed that love is this huge thing that doesn’t exist, and aside from you two, I don’t see it anywhere.” You said, and your parents smiled softly,

“Honey, love isn’t easy. It takes so much effort and time to get it right, and even then, you can screw it up.”

“Then what, I screwed up?” You accused, and your mother shook her head.

“No, you tried and broke yourself into two to become someone he wanted. That is the furthest thing from love. It’ll hurt, but one day, when your paths cross again, you’ll be able to smile at him with no malice and thank him for putting you through hell because you’ll know what you never want again,” your mother explained, pulling you into a tight hug as you sobbed.

“He couldn’t even be bothered to attend my birthday,” you mumbled, sniffling pathetically, and your father nodded.

“That’s not a good sign, if I’m being honest, isn’t it meant to be fun, a birthday party?” Your father asked, and you could only shrug.

“Get your hair done or something,” your mum suggested the following week.

“Why?” You asked, and your mother smiled at you.

“Well, isn’t that what everyone does after a breakup? Get their hair done, and you’ve been moping for a week. Go outside, go and see the colourful world out there,” your mother said, kissing your forehead.

You laughed but decided to take up your mother’s advice, and soon enough, you found yourself in a hair salon.

“So, how do you want your hair done?” The stylist asked as he started to towel dry your hair.

“I’m not entirely sure, but something that screams I’m doing good and happy.” The stylist smiled.

“A few highlights and waves?” He suggested, and you grinned. You relaxed into the chair as the stylist worked on your hair.

You smiled at your appearance in the mirror. You felt fresh. You still felt pain, but the new hair did do wonders. You’d never understand the logic, but it helped, only for a second, until a voice stopped you in the shopping mall.

“Y/N?” Your blood ran cold, and you’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“Yoona,” you muttered, turning around as you faced her.

“Did you change your hair? I like it. It looks lovely!” Yoona smiled.

“Can I help you, Yoona?” You asked, not having the energy to pretend to care.

“I heard you and Cheol broke up?” Yoona said, and you cringed at her use of his nickname.

“Why, are you waiting to dig your claws into him?” You snapped, and Yoona shook her head.

“Look, I have no defense for what I did to him, but I’ll say this: There is an idea that Seungcheol has in his mind. Even if I didn’t fit that mould, should I have cheated? No, but it wouldn’t have mattered because I would never be enough for him, and neither were you. He has a version of a woman in his mind, which doesn’t exist. You dodged a bullet, my Y/N,” Yoona narrated as she walked off, leaving you speechless.

It was on your walk that all the puzzle pieces fit together. Yoona wasn’t wrong—granted, an unreliable source—but her words weren’t exactly wrong. You bent over backward to appease Seungcheol, but nothing was enough, and if Yoona, his “ideal girl,” failed to meet his idea, then what was his ideal?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflected on him? Was that all he ever needed: someone to make him look better?

You smiled, turning back to see Yoona walk into another shop. Maybe she was right; it’d take a while to reconcile and face the trauma of dating Choi Seungcheol, but you knew it wasn’t you anymore. You could have been carved by the gods themselves, but unless that god were Seungcheol, you would never be enough for him, and somehow you were okay with that.

You just needed now to heal, mend old relationships, and find yourself again, but you were a soldier who came back from war half her weight. You needed to regain strength from this, heal, and become someone who had learned from this.

You could do it. You’d get older and wiser, while his lovers would be the same, wide-eyed and keen until he tore them to shreds when he realised they weren’t the one.

You could move on. You’d be fine.

The Healing: 2 Years Later

You were fussing over your speech for the fifth time that day.

“Girl, it’s fine, you’ve worked your ass off for this app. I can’t believe you got SNU to sponsor this. You’ve grown up!” Mia said dramatically, making you laugh.

You two were okay again; it took a lot of healing, but you two were okay because you didn’t hurt anymore.

You were at the launch of your newest app, a website for students and teachers to connect quickly.You wanted to pitch it to SNU, and they agreed.

You had finally finished your presentation when your eyes locked with his.

You flashed him a smile, and he returned one.It was like nothing you imagined at that moment. Nothing hurt anymore; he was a painful memory, but he was your past.

You would sometimes wonder if the love affair between the two of you maimed him the way it maimed you, but you also figured that you could live without getting that answer from him.

You’d be okay. You weren’t okay then, but you are okay now.

You were okay before you met him, and you’d be okay after him.

#seventeen fic #seungcheol fic #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #svthub #kvanity #all too well: c.s.c

581 notes · View notes

thankskenpenders · 10 months

Text

Sonic Prime: "Season 2"

Eight more episodes of Sonic Prime are out! They're labeled as "season 2" despite just being the next eight episodes of the first (and presumably only) season, allowing Netflix to market it as multiple seasons without having to give the cast and crew raises. They love doing that shit to their original cartoons. Ugh.

Anyway! Last time, I gave the show some leeway because it was still finding its legs. This time, though? We're now two thirds of the way through the series, and sadly, I think it's time to accept the truth:

While there are parts I like, a lot of this show... kinda sucks?

This multiverse sucks and Rouge was robbed

Previously, I noted the pattern of each universe spotlighting a different friend of Sonic's (Tails in New Yolk City, Amy in the jungle world, Knuckles in the pirate world) and predicted that, hopefully, Rouge would get her time to shine next. And with 16 episodes left, surely there's time to explore new worlds that are more interesting than the jungle and pirate worlds. Those were just the warm up act. Right?

...Right?

Nope! That's it! There are no more worlds.

This multiverse show where anything is possible really is just about another Eggman-controlled dystopia world, a jungle world, and a pirate world. That's all they came up with! Just those three, and two dead worlds that don't really count - one a featureless wasteland, the other a ghostly echo of the original Green Hill dubbed "Ghost Hill." (Sonic's friends appear here as holograms stuck repeating a single line each. It gets old immediately.)

The jungle and pirate worlds and their inhabitants being so overwhelmingly generic becomes unforgivable the moment you realize this is all we're gonna get. It just leaves me wishing they'd thrown this whole concept out and finally made a normal Sonic cartoon with no twist in its premise. A few of the new takes here are good, particularly Nine as a darker riff on Tails, but so many of them don't feel anything like the fun characters they're supposed to be. They're stock cartoon characters wearing the Sonic casts' skins.

I'll admit my bias is showing, but god, Rouge is REALLY done dirty by this setup. The normal Rouge we see in the first episode is so fun for how briefly she appears, but then in all the other worlds she's reduced to a generic action girl with zero personality. What's her purpose, exactly, when every AU version of Amy is ALSO a straightforward action girl? It drives me absolutely insane that they gave us a PIRATE ROUGE and she doesn't care about treasure. They do nothing with this! How!!!!!!!! She's just never gonna get her turn. It's so obvious that Rouge is only in this show so that they can have another girl, but you could swap her out with another character like Blaze and it'd make no difference.

Speaking of the pirates, though...

The way things play out in the pirate world is so stupid

Previously, with the Paradox Prism shard within reach, Captain Dread Knux was regressing into his old obsessive personality. I'm fine with this. Sonic and Dread both want the shard, they're gonna fight over it. Obvious stuff. But the actual impact it has on the story is maybe the stupidest bit of writing in this entire show so far.

Basically, while fighting a couple of the Eggmen and their robots at sea, Sonic has to briefly run over to the enemy ship to fight them and grab the Paradox Prism shard while Dread and his crew remain back on their ship. Dread goes "Oh my god, look! Sonic's abandoning us! Traitor!" While Sonic is... like 200 feet away. Still in clear view. Fighting the guys who are trying to kill them. Retrieving Dread's beloved treasure for him.

And yet, Dread's crew buys this! And when Sonic runs right back over with the shard in hand, they're all like "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY US" and turn on him.

It's just. What?!

This isn't a huge part of the "season," but I highlight it as maybe the worst moment of the show's character writing. I'm reminded of Thorn Rose's backstory from last time, where she was depicted as suddenly snapping one day when she saw her friends pick one too many berries in the jungle. Sometimes a character just needs to pivot for the story to work, and they aren't really interested in getting there smoothly.

The Chaos Council fucking sucks

I tried so hard to like these guys, but they drag the show down so much.

The choice to have a team of five different Eggmen really just means that Eggman has been split into five one-note characters. Four of them revolve entirely around the most trite, predictable, boomer-ass jokes based on their ages. The teenage one is whiny and just wants to play video games. The young adult one is a vegan hipster who does yoga. The old one is cranky about all the whippersnappers and has a bad back. The baby is a baby. These are jokes that would've been tired if this show aired 20 years ago.

The odd man out is Mister Doctor Eggman, the middle-aged one with a toupee who's the stand-in for regular Eggman. But even he kinda sucks. The other four all being one-note joke characters means that he has to be the straight man of the group, so he's just very dry and serious and plot-focused without any of Eggman's fun eccentricities. He's neither particularly funny nor particularly sinister, which is just about the worst place for an Eggman to be.

He doesn't even have any incompetent robot lackeys to bounce off of, because the unfunny alternate age Eggmen fill the quota for bumbling secondary villains. But also, like... Orbot and Cubot are in this show! They were in the first episode! Where are they? God, I never thought I'd miss them so much...

But, okay. It's not ALL bad.

The highlights

There's a recurring theme here, which is that the best episodes are the ones where Sonic is pitted against a foe who can match his speed and they just let the animation carry it.

The first of the new episodes is mostly about Sonic fighting Shadow, and BOY is their fight fun to watch. Said fight happens because Shadow blames Sonic for shattering the universe and doesn't trust him to fix things. Shadow wants to restore their world, but he refuses to see the various AU counterparts as the same people Sonic once knew, and he doesn't really care what happens to them. Ultimately, though, he begrudgingly accepts that Sonic really is the only one who can hop between dimensions for Plot Reasons, and therefore lets him go try to do things the nice way. He sadly spends most of his time waiting around in the void between worlds, but in the last episode of the batch he and Sonic get to team up against the Chaos Council's forces and it's very cool.

As far as recent interpretations of Shadow go, this is a good one. He's a great foil for Sonic, which just makes me wish he could travel with Sonic to the different worlds. He's cynical and overly pragmatic in his approach, but his points aren't entirely wrong. His anger feels justified. They even let him have some snark! And Ian Hanlin is really great in the role - definitely a contender for Shadow's best voice ever. He just sounds so natural.

The other speedster Sonic fights is Chaos Sonic, the Chaos Council's take on Metal.

He can talk! Deven is basically doing a Jaleel impersonation for him? People are very mixed on this.

The idea behind Chaos Sonic is to turn Sonic's obnoxious smack talk and zingers back around on him, and I don't hate this idea, even if a lot of fans find him annoying compared to Metal Sonic. (Some comparisons have been made to Archie's Shard, but I assume this is a coincidence.) Like the rest of the script, his dialogue certainly isn't anything to write home about, but the fights he gets into with Sonic and co. are so damn fun and dynamic that I have to like him. I also like how expressive his eyes are on his dome screen face, and the animators have a ton of fun with the fact that his torso and head can rotate 360 degrees.

Unfortunately, he's destroyed at the end of his debut episode. I'm praying he gets rebuilt, because this show desperately needs better villains than the Chaos Council.

Again, the animation in Prime is maybe the best animation in any official Sonic media, period. I just wished I liked the characters and worlds enough to be invested in more of the fights. It's hard to care about the dozenth group battle against the generic Eggforcer bots and the baby in his Fisher-Price mech.

The note we end on

After fighting a giant glowing replica of the normal Eggman for... some reason? Episode 16 ends with Sonic and Nine getting into an argument over what to do with the Paradox Prism shards. Sonic wants to restore his original world, but Nine still wants to create a new, better world out of the one that's just an empty wasteland, believing he doesn't belong anywhere else. Nine angrily runs off with the shards, and Sonic is distraught as he realizes that Shadow was seemingly right about how he shouldn't trust Nine.

I kind of like this conflict, mostly because Nine is the standout character of this show. But my main problem is that we don't know what will happen when everything is fixed.

The logical assumption is that the alternate worlds will just... stop existing, right? That must be the idea if Sonic and Nine are treating restoring the original world and creating a new one in the Shatterverse as mutually exclusive options, right? If the Shatterverse disappears, will Nine and the rest all stop existing, too? The show seems unwilling to discuss this possibility, so I'm left not really knowing what the stakes are in this conflict. Nine becomes a whole lot more sympathetic and Sonic becomes a whole lot more monstrous if restoring the world will erase most of this show's cast from existence, but the thought that this could even happen doesn't seem to have crossed Sonic's mind. Sonic seems to want to take his AU friends back to the regular Green Hill - he at least wants to introduce Nine to his normal friends - but like... he can't really do that, can he? They're not gonna have four Tailses running around.

I don't really know what direction this is all headed in. I guess we just have to keep watching, even if I'm past the point of accepting that this show is mostly very mid.

It's just frustrating that everyone else working on this show is clearly giving it their all while the writers at Man of Action phone it in for so much of its runtime. The scripts drag this show down so, so hard. There are moments and episodes I like, but you have to slog through so much mediocrity to get there.

#tkp post #other media

601 notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 3 months

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 12 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: It's game time. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by sweethearts: @aremuslupinsimp & @profoundpidgeon

Chapter 30: Bridge Over Troubled Water

You stayed with the boys until Peter and James arrived, and since it was already past curfew, but mostly because he wanted to, he offered to take you to your room using James’ cloak. You were both already outside your door when he stopped you and pulled you in for a short kiss.

“Starshine, I might not see you tomorrow…”

“However will I survive?” you chimed in.

He rolled his eyes, a very small smile playing on his lips before he focused again “That’s not– tomorrow’s the game–”

“Yeah, I’m very aware.”

“And I won’t be there.” You nodded, holding your tongue instead of interrupting him again, “You will be the seeker.”

“Sirius, What’s your–”

“Just promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

You gave him a look, and then smiled, reciting a line from a comic you’d read with him a couple of weeks ago “How could I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

He deadpanned, “I’m serious.” Again, you had to hold your tongue before saying something that would probably frazzle him a bit more, “Take care of yourself, you’re more important to me than winning the game.”

You smiled at that. It was a game against Slytherin. You’d be seeking against Regulus. Those words meant a lot more than they let on. You looked at him, and nodded “I won’t do anything stupid.”

“No using yourself as a shield for a bludger?”

“Nope,” you confirmed with a nod.

“Stay the hell away from Crouch.”

“You don’t even have to tell me for me to do that.”

“And don’t trust Minho, I know you’re friends but he’s as quidditch crazy as James, he won’t go easy on you just because you’re friends.”

“It’d be a boring game if he did,” you said with a pout. Sirius shook his head in disbelief before pulling you into a hug.

“Not gonna lie, I’m kind of glad you’re playing seeker instead of guardian, with your shoulder and everything…”

“Shoulder’s fine,” you said with a shrug, leaning onto him. He was squeezing you tightly, and you rather enjoyed it. “But I’ll get hurt more often if you keep coddling me so much.”

“How about you don’t get hurt ever again and I promise to continue coddling you regardless?” He hummed into your hair, his tone laced with humour.

“I suppose we could reach to an agreement,” you replied with a smile, as you took in the scent of his soft shirt, and then pulled back to look at him, “Don’t pick up fights with Evan while you’re in detention with Slughorn,” you added in a warning tone.

He gave you a look as if to say that it was impossible but you reached up and placed your hand near the bottom of his lip, where a small cut was healing, he winced as you brushed your hand over it “I thought as much,” you told him earnestly as you let your hand fall to the side of his cheek, Godric, he’s so unfairly pretty, you thought.

He stared back at you, and you must have stayed like that for a while, if anyone saw you, they’d assume you were two idiots in love, which was pretty accurate in and of itself, thankfully the cloak was still covering the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s gazes without anyone bursting your bubble, until Sirius did, remembering it was late. “All right, off you go, you have to wake up early tomorrow, eat a full meal and get ready for the game.”

“Sure thing Prongs,” you teased, you would have said mom, but being honest, James was a lot more concerned about the games and your eating habits than either of your moms ever were, especially Walburga, at least your mom tried, even if you didn’t agree with the choices she had made in order to please your father.

He huffed a laugh, “I’ll tell Rem to watch over you.”

“I don’t need a nanny.”

“He’ll watch over you anyway,” he added, which was true in two ways, one: he’d tell Remus regardless of your objections, and two: he was pretty sure Remus would watch over you even if he didn’t directly ask him to do it.

You hummed in response and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before sliding into your room. Lily was awake for some reason, she had a book in her hands and was using the light of her wand to read. You narrowed your eyes at her and decided to go straight into her bed, sitting beside her.

“Where were you all day today?” She asked in a whisper, you took your wand out of the pyjama pants the boys had given you and cast a silencing spell over the two of you. “The school was chaos, Nox and Comet came over looking for you at lunch, we had to tell them we hadn’t seen you since breakfast. And then it was my date with James, I wanted to ask you if I looked nice but nobody knew where you were, it was like you vanished.”

“You always look nice,” you said, addressing one of their first statements. “James is head over heels for you–”

She frowned, looking over your body. “Hold up! What are you wearing?” she asked, placing her hand on the flannel pants you had on, pants she was sure she had seen either on Sirius or Remus (perhaps both), and then turned to the shirt, a little too big for you. A shirt she definitely had seen on Sirius. You didn’t change back into your uniform since you weren’t expecting anyone to be awake. “Isn’t this Sirius’… Oh my God! You were with Sirius,” she said with a gasp, covering her own mouth since she had been much louder this time around, “How was it?”

“Ah that… It’s not what you think!” You managed to mumble, “I was working on my project with Rem and then I accidentally spilt coffee all over myself, he borrowed this,” you explained, making it all up on the spot, feeling rather satisfied at how convincing you’d sounded. “Sirius came over later and we all just chilled together for a bit, Remus was reading to us and I just kinda lost track of time.”

She quirked an eyebrow as if analysing what you’d said, Lily was clever, that’s why you had added a truth after the lie, perhaps that way she wouldn’t suspect too much "Does that mean you haven’t…?"

You shook your head. "We’ve… kissed a lot, but no." You then turned to her, narrowing your eyes. "Lily Evans, what makes you so curious?"

She turned red, pulling a strand of shiny red hair behind her ear. "I kissed James today."

You looked at her shocked, James had told you and the boys that the date had gone well, he hadn’t elaborated further. It should have probably made you wonder why he rushed into his bathroom, but you were way too comfortable laying in between Sirius and Remus as he read an action-packed scene that you didn’t pay too much attention to it. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d be able to pay attention to much anything other than Remus’ calming voice, let alone with Sirius, who had at some point taken a hold of your hand and fidgeted with your fingers as the other boy narrated.

"You know you have to tell me everything about it, don’t you?"

She nodded. "That’s why I stayed awake."

And she told you everything, from how James had picked a few wildflowers, which you recognised as Remus’ idea, to how he’d taken her on a walk near the lakes. How he’d somehow gotten his hands on the muggle coffee candies she adores so much -which you knew had been thanks to Sirius’ cousin Andromeda- and he’d placed them on a small picnic basket filled with her favourite food from the great hall (those had been courtesy of Pebblier and Nimbletwist, you had been the one to ask them for it), how he’d taken some paints and parchment and proposed to paint each other. That had been his own idea, at least the making portraits of each other part.

She took out her journal and pulled out the parchment, she had neatly added it to one of the pages with tape. James might be good at a lot of things, but he wasn’t a Michelangelo, perhaps a Picasso? You could certainly say Lily’s portrait was an abstract piece. But she seemed absolutely delighted by it. And her happiness was contagious.

At some point, you had both laid on their bed as he continued telling you all the things they’d done. How he’d behaved like a total gentleman, but kept his very distinctive James Potter charm. She wondered how she had been so blind and not seen that side of him before. You’d been tempted to tell her she was a goner, but held your tongue. You told her a bit about the book you’d been reading with the boys, and she told you that she heard about it. That there was a movie, or maybe they were still making it, she wasn’t too sure. Hogwarts was incredible at many things, but it wasn’t very good at helping students keep up with muggle news. In between laughter, secrets and teasing, the two of you fell asleep beside each other.

Sunday, November 28th, 1976

"Darling, you need to wake up," you heard as you felt a hand on your shoulder. The pain woke you up, rather than her voice, and you groaned, thankfully Marlene thought it was because you were still sleeping. "Teddy wants us in the pitch earlier since he wants to revise the strategy."

You gave her a look, still rather sleepy but nodded, getting up from Lily’s bed, she was still sleeping soundly on the side, and stirred only a little as you stood up, if Marlene noticed anything related to the pyjama you had on, she said nothing. You went straight to change, freshening up a bit by throwing some water straight at your face.

You checked your wound, it looked a lot better, the pain was still there, but it seemed like it was already closing. You threw in some healing spray Remus had given you the night of the prank and wrapped it again. You brushed your teeth, and after you were done, you threw some more water at your face. You felt a lot more awake now, but you were sure breakfast would finish waking you up completely. While it might have not been the best idea to stay awake talking to Lily, you still thought it had been worth it.

You gave a look at your reflection in the small bathroom mirror. "Let’s do this," you told yourself with a smile and stepped out, Marlene was waiting for you outside, she was lacing up her boots."Breakfast?"

She nodded in response, and the two of you walked over to the door. "Should we wake her?" she asked.

You shook your head "She stayed up quite late-"

"Talking to you," she interrupted.

You shrugged. "Yeah, but she didn’t have a game tomorrow," you told her, nodding to the fact that you had been irresponsible, but were okay with it either way. "She’ll wake up before the game, she set an alarm. We should let her rest."

Marlene hummed. "Her date must have been pretty exhausting," she told you with a cheeky smile, you laughed. "Though I still wonder how he managed to convince McGonagall to let him off punishment to go on the date."

You raised your eyebrows "Well… I suppose James can be very convincing."

"He probably cried to McGonagall," she said with a laugh. "Wouldn’t blame him, I’m not sure if Lily would have given him another chance."

"We would have convinced her."

"If only to get James off our backs," Marlene said with a laugh, by then you were already close to the entrance of the great hall.

James and Sirius –as expected– weren’t there when you crossed the huge doors. Teddy was amiably speaking with Tim and Lucas, who would be covering for your friends, while Gale and Anne sat a little bit further to the side. When Gale saw the two of you, he raised his hand and made a gesture for you to walk their way.

Both you and Marlene followed and sat in front of the two of them. You served yourself some apple juice as you all greeted each other. They were both already wearing their uniforms, just like you and Marlene were. The Slytherins also had their uniforms on, and they were all sitting close to each other. You realized the boy that would be covering for Evan was the same you had seen in Barty’s room, the Gaunt kid.

“How’re we feeling?” Gale asked, diverting your attention towards your table again.

You sucked in some air and smiled. “It’s always the excitement before a game, isn’t it?”

“Excitement?!? I’m shitting my pants from how nervous I am,” Gale said as he took a sip of some lavender tea Anne had given him to relax. “There’s no way in hell I’m as good as you as a keeper.”

You almost gasped at his words, you were absolutely shocked the overconfident Gale Thomas, the same boy who had taken your handkerchief away on the tryouts, who was so fast you hadn’t even noticed, would be reduced to a bundle of nerves by something like this, you tilted your head. “Gale you’re brilliant, you’ve always been brilliant!” you said. “Even on the tryouts, you were amazing as a keeper, I’m sure we stopped just as many–”

“You stopped around 5% more than I did, you had a block ratio of 95%,” he said, leg bouncing up and down as he took a bite from a toast.

You leaned down on the table to get his attention. “Gale?” you called, he threw you a look, worry still evident on his face. “They wanted you to be a keeper too,” you told him, pointing at Teddy with a nod. “And if they attempt to throw the ball 20 times, and you stop 19, we would still be many, many points ahead. Alison and Mina are great chasers, but I’m sure you’ll be on par, after all, you defended against Teddy, James, Anne and me on the tryouts.”

Anne nodded. “Say it louder so it gets through his thick head,” she said, a little louder and sounding just a little annoyed. He’s been going over since we came downstairs.

“You really think I’ll be on par?” he asked, looking absolutely hopeful. You smiled, sometimes you forgot how much younger than the rest of the team Gale was.

“I’m sure you’ll outperform them,” you added with a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

“What about you, how long has it been since you played seeker?”

You took a deep breath, pondering on the question, it had definitely been a while, but you had played mini-matches with James several times, just trying to catch the snitch in morning flights. You still had the touch, or at least the two of you were much better than Sirius, who had only managed to catch the snitch like 7 times of the hundreds you had played. And one of them had been because he’d distracted you by blowing you a kiss.

“Officially? Probably in March or something, but I’ve been practising with James on our morning flights.”

“You’re not nervous?” Anne asked as he threw a chip in her mouth.

You bit your lip. “I’m excited,” you responded honestly. “Although, the fact that I’m seeking against Pads’ brother and he won the race does make me feel rather queasy,” you added, deciding to avoid the rest of the drama that he’d caused a few years back.

“I still don’t get why you keep calling him weird names,” Anne said with a shrug.

“Regulus?”

“No, your boyfriend, first it was Puppy, then Pads, as the boys call him. What’s wrong with just… Sirius?”

“Oh, have you heard what they call her?” Marlene intervened. “There’s Starshine, Little Witch, Trouble, Kit–”

“Vix!” Remus said, cutting Marlene off and giving the perfect example.

“Hey Moons,” you said with a smile as you leaned closer to Marlene so he could sit.

“Vix?” Anne asked Marlene in a rather hushed tone.

“Stands for Vixen.”

“And she just lets them call her that?”

“It’s because she’s as sly as a fox,” Remus intervened.

“And it’s still better than Wormtail,” you said, just to get a reaction from Peter who was taking a seat across from you and Rem.

“Oi! Stop it, Wormtail is a perfectly fine nickname thank you very much.”

“If she’s Vixen because she’s a sly fox and Peter is Wormtail because he’s as quiet as a mouse–” Anne started.

You snorted. “When has Peter ever been quiet as a mouse?!”

Yes, it was true Peter wasn’t nearly as loud as James or Sirius, and it made it especially evident since he was always hanging around the two boys but Peter was far from “quiet as a mouse”, if anything, Remus was quieter, and that was only half true, because once you got him talking about a book, he could go on and on with it, just like James could talk about Quidditch for hours.

“And why is he Wormtail then?” Anne asked.

“He looks like a rat,” Remus responded simply, which would have sounded mean if he didn’t have a complicit smile as he stared at Peter.

“Quit it with your word games you two!” Peter warned in a rather stern tone, and yet, there was a certain shimmer behind his eyes, as if he knew more than he let on. It was all in the secrecy, really, on being part of the brotherhood that actually knew what was happening behind the nicknames. The shared secret allowed you to do and say things that people didn’t quite understand, even if you sometimes had to play offended. You enjoyed being able to be part of it, part of them.

“And Remus is Moony, isn’t it?” Anne asked, “Why’s that?”

“Because he’s insane,” you and Peter responded at about the same time, before bursting out into a laugh, Remus pulled your hair lightly in response and you turned to him with your tongue out.

“If you keep it up, little witch, I’m not gonna give you this,” he said as he pulled his hand up for you to see, his sleeve fell back a little and you could see what he meant, Sirius’ lucky hair tie.

“You wouldn’t go against Pads’ wishes,” you told him as you grabbed his hands and started to tug at the hair tie, but he dragged his hand away, leaving you with a pout.

“You sure about that luv?” He asked, eyebrows quirked.

“Confident,” you said, attempting to drag his hands down, but it was pretty useless, his muscles wouldn’t even budge, freaking werewolf strength, you thought with a huff “Reeem!” you whined. You wondered for a moment what that strength would do as a beater in quidditch and almost shivered.

He just smiled and tilted his head “How about you ask for it nicely?”

You rolled your eyes. “Darling Moony,” you said, exaggerating. “Can I please have Puppy’s hair tie?”

He knew you were playing a part, he could also hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and yet… he rather enjoyed that all of your attention was on him. And Merlin the look that you were giving him, it felt almost as good as when Sirius climbed onto the side of his bed, grabbed his hand, and manhandled it until he managed to slide the hair tie in. It still smelled of Sirius’ hair long after he had left for detention. Remus tried not to smell it, he didn’t want to be weird about it. But he couldn’t help himself.

Now he had you all over him, legs pressed against his and hands all over his arm as you attempted to pull it down, and he adored it. Even if he knew he shouldn’t, even if he knew you were Sirius’, he loved having your undivided attention. Your eyes on him, and no one else.

“Pretty please?” you added, and now you had that sneaky little puppy dog face you gave him when you wanted something. The same face he could barely say no to when you weren’t pressed against him.

He sighed and lowered his arm, allowing you to take the tie from him, relishing on the way your hands brushed over his own. Your hands were much smaller than Sirius’, even if a little rougher from so much quidditch and not that much piano, but he liked them just as much as he liked the ones of the boy.

When you managed to slide it off, you pulled back a little to add it to your hair “Have you eaten?” Peter asked from the front. Suddenly you remembered it wasn’t only you and Remus in the room and felt awkward for half a second, but everyone seemed to find the interaction the most normal, especially Peter and Marlene who hung around you and Remus often.

You looked down at your clean plate, you had been so focused on comforting Gale and then on Remus’ talk, or perhaps just on Remus, that you had forgotten to even serve yourself anything. You shook your head and filled your cup. “How much time do we have?” you asked Marlene.

“About 15 minutes,” she informed.

“That should be enough,” you said before taking a drink and grabbing onto a toast before spreading butter on it. Then some cream cheese and you were about to grab the marmalade when Remus spoke.

“Here,” he said as he passed over a plate with fruit to you.

“Thanks, Rem,” you said as you grabbed a few of the berries and placed them on top of your bread. You then started munching on some of the other fruits on the plate. You didn’t realise, with the rush, that the plate actually had only your favourite fruit. Remus had picked them up from the centre of the table as you prepared your toast.

You pretty much gobbled your food, like you had been doing all week, even if the absolute craving for meat had significantly diminished -especially when you were around Remus you noticed- the hunger seemed to prevail. All the types of hunger. Every time you saw Sirius you had the urge to kiss him over and over again like that time in the passageways. That type of hunger didn’t seem to subside when you were around Remus.

You stood up, Teddy, Tim and Lucas had already left, and Marlene was just finishing her eggs while Anne and Gale stood up. Remus was still eating, a lot more calmer as the four of you motioned to move.

“Little Witch!” he said, just before you started walking towards the door, he used his wand to levitate a blueberry muffin towards your face. “Take this for the way.”

“What about me,” Marlene asked.

“It was the last one, sorry.”

Marlene gasped playfully. “I swear, this is what you call preferences,” she said with a humph and turned her heel.

“I’ll save one for you next time,” Remus said with a simple shrug, and Marlene just gave him an incredulous stare before marching off behind Anne and Gale. You gave Remus a look and he shrugged again. “It was for you, she’s playing what she always does, you aren’t,” he added, did that make sense? he sure hoped it did.

“Thanks, Rem,” you told him with a smile. “I’ll see you in the game, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“See you there too Pete,” you said with a wave, the boy nodded and hummed in response, too busy picking the onion bits out of the eggs. Peter didn’t like onion, and he always took his sweet time taking it out of his eggs, Sirius had given him a spell, but he said it wasn’t as good as using his hands and eyes.

You moved to follow behind Marlene and had almost gotten all the way out of the room when two Slytherins cornered you near the doors. You smiled.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Comet asked, a complicit smile on her face.

“Had to be you, Crouch has been on your back for months,” Nox added.

“And then there was the incident with Evan, Severus has always been an ass to you and Mulciber follows them along wherever they go,” Comet intervened.

You gulped, a small smirk on your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And you were in my room, jeez, how the hell didn’t I notice.”

“You must sleep pretty heavy,” you said with a shrug.

“Ha! She’s admitting it!”

“I can’t confirm nor deny anything…”

Nox looked dumbfounded while Comet laughed. “Thanks for the heads up,” she told you.

“What warning?” you asked with a complicit smile.

Nox breathed out, a smile playing on his lips again. “Should have heard his screams, he woke up drenched in sweat and crying like a baby,” he added, smile turning to smirk. You had never seen so much Slytherin-ness on him before. “Serves him well.”

You bit your cheek to avoid making your smile bigger. “Well guys, there’s a game I need to attend.”

“Good luck!” Comet said with a smile as you waved them goodbye and started walking away.

“We hope you lose,” added Nox casually, he actually liked Regulus, he’d always been a good roommate. Comet dug her elbow on his stomach, she didn’t care much for the Quidditch team, except for Minho, but she liked you better.

“I don’t, I hope you win!” she said with a smile “but invite me to the celebration party, I’d hate to miss it.”

You turned with a smile and a wink. “Of course, you’re always invited to the Gryffindor parties.”

You continued walking towards the pitch, you bumped into Nina, who hugged you and wished you a great game. She told you she’d be watching on the Gryffindor side with Sibyl, which made you smile.

After a few more minutes you were already on the pitch, everyone was there already, and Teddy was talking with Gale now, he turned to you and called your name, using his hand to prompt you to come.“James said you’ll be seeking.” You nodded, you knew. “But… and I know this might be a lot to ask, but could you keep an eye on Gale?”

“But he’s brilliant!” you argued, and then turned to him, standing on the side. “You’re brilliant Gale, I told you already.”

“He knows,” Teddy said, getting your attention again. “But he asked me to ask you to do it, just in case.”

You looked between the two boys and realised that more than anything, what Gale wanted was reassurance, so you smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, I’ve got you covered,” you bolstered him. “Just do your thing, be as fast as you always are but stay in the goals, all right?”

“Will you teach me how to do the backflip?” he asked.

You nodded, “How about I teach you during our next practice, in case you ever have to play keeper again?”

He nodded excitedly. “I want to be as good as you one day.”

“You’ll be even better,” you told him with a smile. And you truly believed he would, it was almost like a hunch.

“All right guys,” Teddy said, “10 laps, we need some warm-up.” You nodded and did as told, speeding through the pitch as fast as your broom allowed, then up and down, practising the break before reaching the ground.

Eventually, Teddy called everyone down, and you all started to gear up. You helped Gale with the many layers of protective gear he’d be wearing and then sat down near the bleachers to fasten your own gear. Most of the gear was similar to the stuff you wore normally. Although James had given you a pair of old gloves, that he said he’d used to win his first match. You tried not to think about the fact that your hands were so small that James’ had been the same size when he was 13, but then you remembered being James, and it actually made sense.

“Feeling ready?” you heard a soft voice from behind and saw Remus’ hands out of the corner of your eye, as he sat down on the grass beside you.

You hummed. “Yeah, I just need to finish with this,” you said as you pointed at the laces that you were passing through and around your shins.

Remus leaned on his palms as he looked up. “It might rain soon,” he informed.

“It’s a wonderful day!” You told him with a smirk, he gave you a side eye but smiled.

“Here,” he said, giving you a small, marble-sized transparent ball.

“A swamp bomb?” you asked curiously as you looked through the transparent-ish ball and looked at all the little murky water details inside.

“Throw it on the ground and you get an instant swamp,” he said with a smile. “Sirius and I trapped it on the marble a few years ago, we made one for each, they always carry them on rainy games.”

“For… luck?” you asked with a bit of a frown.

Remus quirked an eyebrow. “In case you slip off your broom,” he responded matter of factly, “use it and you’ll fall on water rather than on the grass, it’ll break your fall”

You gasped in shock, a surprised expression that turned into a smile the more you thought about it. “That’s insanely clever! It should be used as a failsafe for every quidditch player. I mean change the swamp for cleaner water and you have the perfect little artefact.”

Remus nodded in agreement, “Keep it in you, all right?”

You nodded. “You really did take the whole “taking care of me” thing seriously,” you said as you pocketed the marble.

“Take care of you?” he asked with a frown.

“Didn’t Sirius ask?” you asked a little confused.

He had.

Although, Remus had been too busy trying not to blush when he grabbed his hand to put the hair tie in. Did he? he wondered, perhaps he did, I wasn’t exactly listening. Remus cleared his throat, you noticed he did that quite often when he was around you, you wondered if maybe he was getting sick or something. “Yeah, I… yeah, but you’re my best friend so, still…”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Don’t get all soft with me,” you joked. “You know I’ll be alright, don’t you?”

He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned his head on them, giving you an expression you could only describe as cute, even for Remus. “I know,” he reassured. “How’s the shoulder?” he asked, brushing his fingers on it lightly. Perhaps he was giving himself too many liberties around you these days, you didn’t seem to mind it.

“Better, it still hurts, but much better. Think James would have allowed me to play if he hadn’t gotten detention?”

He humphed. “You would have convinced him, you always do. Maybe it’s the fairy bIood?”

You shrugged, “Nah, mom was the last one in line with the ability to glamour.”

He smiled, “How about going against Reg?”

You swallowed thickly, you had told Remus about not using the hexbag on him. “It’s… It’s whatever.”

“You still resent him?”

“Am I petty?” you asked with a frown. “It’s… It’s not even about me and Sirius anymore, you know? It’s about the betrayal. I trusted him, Rem. I did, and Sirius warned me, he told me he was always doing what Walburga and Orion asked but I chose to trust Regulus. I thought I saw something in him, maybe a friend but… I guess I got my gut feeling wrong then.”

Remus nodded as he listened. “Did you ever talk to him about it?”

Yes, Remus, the voice of reason, of course, that’s what he would ask. You averted your gaze and shook your head, “He sent a letter once.”

“And?”

“I burned it down without even opening it.”

“You really have a knack for burning things that could be useful to you.”

You hit his shoulder lightly, knowing exactly what he was talking about, the werewolf book pages. “Either way, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to talk to him, things got really awkward when I blew him off during the race.”

Remus sighed, he really had to go and fall in love with two of the most headstrong and stubborn people in his life. He was about to say something when Teddy called for you. You turned to him, a smile plastered on your face as if the sad subject hadn’t been touched at all. “Enjoy the show then,” you said in the most enticing tone before standing up and pulling your broom up to your hands without even saying a word. Impressive, Remus thought, but then again, she’s always been impressive.

“The game is about to start,” Teddy informed, “Mckinnon, Lucas; Crouch will be all over Gale because he’s new, I want you to keep your eyes on him.”

“I… I think perhaps he might be all over (Y/N),” Marlene said. “He’s got beef with her.”

Yeah, Beef is certainly a way to call it, you thought. “Nah, Minho is friends with her, she won’t be in the danger zone too often.”

“I’m here,” you said, intervening with a raised hand, they were talking as if you weren’t. “And while I do think he’ll be trying to shoot the bludgers straight to my face, because that’s just who Barty is, I’ll stay close to Gale, no need to choose between the two, how does that sound?” you asked.

“Fine, but don’t stay in place if you see the snitch, go right behind it.”

“I was planning to.” You liked Teddy, you really did, but he wasn’t a great captain, James was.

“Davis, Tim, we’ll play offensive.” Teddy was still coordinating with the chasers when you heard a loud whistle sound from the referee.

You all walked towards the centre of the pitch, Teddy at the forefront, you and Gale to each side of him. The Slytherin team was right in front of you, Regulus was looking at you with a bit of a frown, his lips pursed, as if he wanted to say something but was holding his tongue.

You stared at him, and then at Barty who was glaring at you. You stood a little straighter, pulling your head back just a little and giving him the most unbothered and cocksure expression you could have mustered. It worked, his eyes narrowed and his glare thickened. Regulus, who had been watching the entire exchange, almost smiled proudly at your stance. You really were the same girl he had met years ago at the resort, perhaps even a little bolder now that you were older.

“Captains, greet each other,” the referee said –a Ravenclaw player who had been commissioned for the job. Dimitry and Teddy stepped ahead and shook hands.

You shot Minho a look as they stretched their hands and he winked at you. You knew he wasn’t going to make it easy for you just because you were friends, and you were thrilled to finally be able to play against him. You had heard stories, and you had seen him in practice games, he was good, professional player material even.

“Seekers,” the referee called, you turned to look at them, “your turn.”

You took a step forward and awkwardly shook Regulus’ hand. It was as soft as Sirius’, you still found it impressive how much they looked like each other and how different they were from the other, “I’m looking forward to playing against you.”

“I’m looking forward to beating you,” you said, a lot more bitterly than you originally intended for it to sound.

Regulus scoffed but smiled, that’s definitely something you would have said to him before the incident, although your tone would have for sure been different. The referee let the snitch out, and it circled Reg before circling around you and flying up into the air. You stared at the shiny orb until it disappeared in the air. Gale and Dimitry were already on the goals. There was another loud sound whistle, along with sparks and the game started.

You did as you promised, flew straight towards the goals and kept a decent distance between you and Gale, flying a little higher as you looked through every bit of the field to try and find the little golden ball. It hadn’t even been 10 minutes and the sky started to rumble. You looked up, and felt the first trickle of rain over your cheek. You smiled, things were about to get good. You had promised you’d stay near the goals, and you really did intend to do it. But then you saw something moving in the distance, barely a glimmer, a flicker of gold through the thick drops of rain. You turned to Regulus, he was looking towards the same spot you were. So you dived that way about at the same time he did.

You saw Anne Davis get a grip on the ball and dive straight towards Volkov’s goals, she missed the shot and he threw the ball back to one of their chasers but Tim intercepted and shot it back, managing to score some points for your team. The crowd erupted in cheers and even you joined in their cheers. Tim beamed from his spot, it was the first time he played an official game, and managing to score was a huge moment for him, although you never doubted his ability.

You and Regulus were almost side by side, flying towards the east side of the pitch, but the snitch seemed to have vanished again, he did a swift break a few metres from the ground but you continued down hoping to see the sneaky little ball somewhere, breaking just before you reached the grass, and rolling around the bottom on circles to diffuse the momentum of the fall. You looked up, Gale was being surrounded by the beaters of both teams, while Marlene and Lucas were trying to push the ball to the other side Minho and Barty were viciously dragging it back to Gale. You took a deep breath and flew as fast as possible towards them, not quite looking at Gale but pretending you had seen something. That would get them off him and to follow you instead.

“Don’t do anything stupid” you heard Sirius’ voice echo in your head. Well, it’s not stupid, you attempted to reason. It’s not like trying to stop a bludger with my own hands or stepping in front of one to defend Gale, definitely not like throwing your wand on the ground when facing a werewolf. This is teamwork.

You followed through with your plan and continued taking sharp turns, emulating the kind of turns the snitch would make you take and surely enough, in a matter of seconds, you had both Minho and Barty all over you, throwing the bludgers at your face as you skid and dodged them over and over. Thank Merlin you had decent reflexes.

Gale seemed to be a lot calmer now, and even if the reserve player, Solacis Gaunt, had scored 10 points earlier, he was visibly struggling to get past Gale’s defences. You smiled proudly at yourself as you continued to soar through the air, and dodged a few more throws from Crouch. Perhaps it was a bad idea to taunt him, but you couldn’t help yourself; when you steered clear of yet another shot from him, you turned around with a cocky smile and waved.

Crouch did not look happy. Minho was laughing in the background and Marlene, who was still close to Gale, watched the whole interaction with a bit of a frown. That was it, the stupid thing Sirius had told you not to do.

Even Remus, who didn’t have such a good view of the situation from the bleachers, noticed how you were haughtily making fun of Barty’s shot and stiffened in his seat. You could be so insolent sometimes, often failing to realise the consequences of what your actions could do to you. Like getting you thrown on the shrieking shack or almost eaten alive. Regardless, he had never seen anyone be so damn stunning while boasting. Actually, that was a lie, Sirius was equally beautiful when he did.

The game was tight, Regulus and you were darting almost side by side, he seemed a little confused at first because he couldn’t see the snitch you were so animatedly looking for, but then he noticed: your worrying looks at Gale, the little proud smile when he managed to stop a quaffle after Minho and Barty were off his back. She’s protecting him.

Regulus knew Gale, they were in the same year, and he knew he was a good guy, he was always studying and even if he was a little too loud and conceited for his own taste, he respected him. In fact, he was a little surprised he was so self-conscious about the game since his very confident persona would rarely waver into diffidence.

And then he saw the way you threw the boy a thumbs up and he realised: that could have been the kind of friendship that developed between the two of you. If he had done things differently, if he had perhaps… gone to the waterpark with you and Sirius. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so angry about the lies he’d told to keep you from harm. But he was also certain that what you wanted, for him to admit that it had been your idea, wouldn’t be something he would ever change, he wouldn’t have done anything to put you in danger.

From the very beginning, you had been kind and friendly to him, like you were to everyone you met, and even if you were clearly drawn to Sirius like a moth to a flame, you had never left him out. You’d even tried to convince him to come along, but he was too scared, he’d seen the way his parents punished Sirius. He didn’t want his mom to pull that kind of face, let alone those kinds of spells… Yeah, he might have been a bit of a coward, but everyone was safe in the end, and you were happy now, which in a way made him happy too.

He hadn’t seen the snitch either way, so he followed your game, darting behind as close to you as he could. He knew Minho would control his shots if he thought he could hit him, so in a way, he was protecting you and himself, since your team’s beater would be doing the same. Although –and he was indeed curious about this– they seemed to be sticking to Gale rather than following behind you and protecting you, or trying to tumble down the other players, like they should.

But then it happened, another glimmer like the one you had seen earlier, passed just over Dimitry Volkov. He swallowed, eyeing you, but you hadn’t seen it, no you were too busy trying to avoid Barty’s aggressive blows. Regulus darted straight towards Volkov, and you instantly knew he was probably following the snitch. So you went right behind him, managing to get shoulder-to-shoulder against each other.

BIoody hell, she’s fast.

He knew that too, but it had never been as evident as having you flying against him, and you didn’t even have your Dark Nimbus anymore. Eventually, you saw the snitch too, and picked up your speed. Both you and Regulus were on the verge of getting it, the sly little ball darting just away from your grasp as if it had a mind of its own.

It didn’t matter, both you and Regulus were as skilled as the other, which was something to say about the boy, since you had been doing this for a lot longer than he had. And even then, you found it a little hard to keep up with him in the sight department. Yes, you were faster, but the snitch often got lost in between the rain in your perspective, but Regulus seemed to always know where to go, never losing sight of it, which was getting on your nerves.

You lost sight of it again and whispered “fuck,” the bludger darted your way and you speed forward, it brushed over the sweeping side of your broom and made you lose balance but the grip you had on the handle was strong and you managed to straighten up before the other bludger sped your way.

You managed to move away from it this time, but not before sending Minho an incredulous look, he just shrugged with a small smile in response “I told you I wouldn’t make it easy for you darling!” You rolled your eyes but nodded, moving out of the way as Marlene shot the bludger back, straight towards Minho, who barely had enough time to react.

You chuckled at his incredulous reaction, as if he was genuinely shocked. Which made sense, last time he’d seen Marlene, she was still guarding Gale like a loyal dog. She threw you a look, a small nod as she let you know “I’m with you” without having to say a word. You looked at her with worry and turned to give Gale a look, once you made sure he was fine, you turned to her again with a smile.

Yes, Teddy had told her to stay by Gale’s side, but you truly needed to have 0 common sense to stay guarding someone who didn’t need protection and leave someone that was struggling with so many bludgers thrown their way by themselves. Besides, you were roommates, friends, she wasn’t gonna let you fall off that broom.

With Marlene on your side, you managed to let go of some of the extra apprehension you had been withholding to try and stay on your broom, she was countering the bludgers and you finally managed to focus on the snitch.

You tore through the air, faster than you had in the previous game, and faster than you had in the race, even without your broom, you’d somehow managed to pick up more speed, the wind whipping past with a biting force. You weren’t sure why it was happening, but you were benefiting from it so you didn’t think much about it.

You were shoulder to shoulder with Regulus again when your eyes landed on the snitch, it wasn’t far, you just needed to push through a little further. You could feel the sharp droplets of rain hitting against your face like icy needles from how fast you were moving, and the clouding in your glasses made it a little hard to see much of anything, but you were focused. Gaze fixed solely on the elusive glint of the snitch, tantalisingly close. You weren’t going to lose sight of it this time, not now that you were ahead of Reg.

As you neared the prize, almost forgetting your surroundings, you felt it, the yanking of your broom, the same yanking that had jolted you off it a few weeks past. Clenching your teeth, you tightened your grip and tried to push through, ignoring the feeling, you were so close. The snitch was within reach; your outstretched hands were on the verge of capturing it, ignoring the strain on your shoulder from how fiercely you were using your arm to grapple the broom, you fought to maintain control over it.

Regulus noticed “Barty!” He spat angrily. You didn’t hear any of it, the broom was pulling backwards, prompting a split-second decision. So you did the only logical thing you could and harnessed the momentum to leap towards the snitch just as the broom slipped from beneath you. Then, the fall began.

The whole crowd seemed to be holding their breath. Regulus, Marlene and Minho, who had been the closest all tried to fly towards you, to catch you before you hit the ground, not that you noticed.

You were rather high when you started to fall, and it almost felt like it was in slow motion, but you had already dragged your hand to the marble Remus had given you earlier when you felt the broom slipping from under your legs. You threw the marble to the ground and braced yourself for the rest of the fall. Trying to keep your eyes open as you wrapped your arms around your body and hoped to fall into the murky water.

In less than two seconds, you felt the freezing hit of the water all around you, lowering your temperature even more. Fortunately, the pocket swamp was deep enough, you didn’t even reach the bottom as you fell a few metres down the water. It took a minute to adjust, opening your eyes as you looked down, managing to see only darkness and some vines of seaweed. However, just as relief washed over you, and you started swimming upwards, you felt something grip onto your ankle. You looked down, panic cursing through your veins when you noticed the bony hand attempting to drag you down. What the fuck?

Above the water, the game seemed to be frozen, the players didn’t know if they should continue playing when two members of the Slytherin team and two of the Gryffindor were completely distracted by the accident.

“Minho, Regulus!” Dimitri shouted, “to your fucking positions.”

Teddy seemed to be about to do the same thing when Marlene threw him a warning look and he shot up, indicating the rest of the team to be on guard with his hands instead of speaking.

Minho turned to Dimitry, second-guessing himself, before turning back to the rippling water in front of him, you weren’t out yet. He shook his head and chose to stay, taking his wand and pointing it to the water “Hidroclearus!” The murky water responded to the spell, gradually clearing to reveal the unfolding scene beneath the surface.

Regulus didn’t even turn to look at Dimitri, he was fully focused on the water, worried.

Remus, who had seen you fall, had already crossed half the pitch with a panicked look on his face, followed by a terrified Lily, and a very concerned Mary. Your Slytherin and Ravenclaw friends were on the edge of their seats. Everyone except for Sibyl, that was trying to get Nina –who was crying hysterically–to calm down.

Someone was trying to stop Remus from going deeper into the field, so they wouldn’t interrupt the game further, but he pushed them off his way easily, Lily and Mary weren’t as lucky, and they were stopped by the game staff as Remus strode towards the swamp.

Under the thick water, your initial shock faded quickly, and you realised that whenever the boys had trapped the swamp in the marble, they had also trapped some kind of water creature. A water creature that was clearly pissed and very hungry after being carried around the boys’ pockets for so long. You pulled your wand out and cast a wordless reducto, getting it to snap his hand away, and started swimming upwards as fast as you could. By then, the water was clearer and Minho saw you, struggling to outswim the creature.

You threw a few other curses at the thing but it was relentless, it wasn’t thinking anymore, the creature had starved inside the marble for so long, the pain your spells caused was completely overshadowed by the rumbling of its stomach the moment it noticed: you were food.

Regardless, there was something you had that the monster didn’t, and that was raw stubbornness, you kept shooting jinxes and swimming however you could, and then you saw a hand, you had no idea who the owner was, but a stranger’s hand was still better than being eaten alive, you reached for it, the hand gripped around your wrist and hauled you up.

Seconds later you were finally above water, gasping for air and panting, you turned to the side, Minho, you realised. You looked back warily, pulling him by his robe as you stared at the water, and only relaxed when you were sure the thing was not about to follow.

Regardless you pulled your wand and whispered “glacius.” A thick layer of frost started to coat the lake and you finally exhaled. You pulled your head back, looking at the sky, the game was still going, but everyone was on edge. Regulus was looking at you in shock, but he seemed more angry than anything and Marlene rushed towards you before the lake froze completely.

She placed her hands around your face, “Are you… are you okay?”

You nodded, head a little squiffy as you tried to gain back focus, the surge of adrenaline finally draining and letting you feel the discomfort of the fall, and the one from your wound. Then you looked up again. “Why… why are they still playing?”

“Regulus stopped searching for the snitch the moment you fell,” she told you, Minho was still standing beside you, worry evident on his furrowed brows, he’d never seen you so fazed. Remus had, but that did not make his long strides slow down. He was also rather angry about the game continuing even after the entire thing had happened. Everyone should have stopped, everyone should be helping you.

He exchanged a look with Minho, the boy stared at Remus’s eyes for a second, seeing the worry and his concern, it reached deeper than his own, and he instantly knew. Yun Minho, the boy who had once kissed Remus, and knew the meaning behind his eyes from the amount of stolen glances they had shared at some point, was the first one to realise how irrevocably in love he was with you.

“That… that doesn’t matter.”

“I bIoody well agree but those are not the rules!” Marlene said, a little riled up but trying to control her anger.

“No,” you said slowly. “I mean, the game is over.”

Marlene frowned, and then Regulus noticed, in one of your hands, the one you had kept glued to your body the entire time, knuckles white from your hard grip, there was something, a small, unfolding wing, and he looked at you, absolutely stunned.

Still looking at Marlene you gave her a lazy smile, tilted your head and pulled your hand up, slowly unwrapping it until you were holding the snitch in between your index finger and thumb. Marlene’s jaw dropped while Minho looked at you impressed and patted you on the back.

You didn’t wince, but turned to him with a smile. “That was quite a game,” he said.

You nodded, letting a soft laugh out, raising your hand higher, so people would notice. The commentator, who had been struggling on whether to keep up with what was happening in the air or what was happening with you, gasped. “She has the snitch!” he said pointing at you, more surprised than anything before clearing his throat and announcing it properly, “That’s 150 points for Gryffindor! The final score is 200 against 60.”

You raised your eyebrows, Gryffindor had been losing by one shot. You could see your teammates start to fly down but were distracted by a bone-crushing hug, you hadn’t seen him coming, but you knew it was Remus instantly, his smell was unmistakable.

You smiled at his hug, you knew you were soaking him with murky, smelly water, but he didn’t seem to care, he was just glad you were all right, you almost snuggled your head on his chest, basking on his warmth, warmth that he had somehow kept despite the cold rain still falling over everyone.

“Rem?” you managed to mumble, he hummed in response, his head was on your shoulder, his eyes shut tightly as a tear of relief soaked your robe, you were fat too wet to notice. “You’re… you’re crushing me a little.”

His head snapped from its place and he looked at you with worry as he pulled back, his hands still on your arms. Now looking all over you, trying to make sure you weren’t hurt, that he hadn’t hurt you either.

You noticed instantly, the panic in his beautiful brown eyes. “It was just a little,” you reassured. “I’m fine,” you added. “Thanks to you, actually.”

Professor Pendragon had rushed towards you and stared at the lake, Nightshade was trailing behind, Remus stepped aside, but kept his hand on your back as the dark-haired teacher leaned closer to inspect you. “There’s a water spirit under the swamp,” you informed, “It’s hungry.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, impressed at your quick thinking. “That’s why you frosted it.”

“Didn’t want it to come up after me.”

“You had to fight it, presumably.”

You nodded, “It wasn’t that hard.”

Remus narrowed his eyes, it was as if you and Seraphina were saying a lot more words to each other than the ones he was actually listening to, it was in the intense gaze you shared, you seemed uncomfortable, almost on edge, but she seemed… pleased.

Professor Pendragon intervened a little later, he called you by your last name “You must be taken to the infirmary.” You threw a worried look at Remus, he had also wanted to take you there, but he bIoody well knew he couldn’t.

“I’m fine, it won’t be necessary,” you said with a smile. Nightshade tilted her head backwards, she knew why you had declined, you were clever, you knew people couldn’t see the probably still rather fresh would your werewolf friend had caused you. “I’ll just… go dry up and I’ll be good as new, the water broke most of the fall,” you added, reassuringly.

Cunning, Nightshade realised, she would have also been fooled, if she hadn’t known better. But she did, and she knew how much that fall must have stung.

Lily and Mary had somehow managed to get across now that the game was over and they were fast approaching but Gale beat them to it, and he also pulled you into a hug “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he repeated like a mantra. You frowned at him and allowed him to pull back of his own accord. “If it hadn’t been for me and my-”

You shook your head. “Nothing was your fault, Gale. I’m fine, we won! You did incredible today too.”

He still seemed a little uneasy but nodded. “Yeah Thomas, it wasn’t your fault, if anything, it was Teddy who told me and Lucas to stay by your side,” Marlene said, throwing the chaser an angry side eye. He recoiled, he’d been staying a little further from the reunion. Lily and Marlene came over next, squeezing you in between the two of them before Peter did the same.

The rest of your friends also came down to tell you how happy they were that you were fine, Nina had pulled you into a hug almost as tight as Remus’ and didn’t let go of you for a few minutes while Sybil attempted to pull her off a few times. After a few more hugs, everyone seemed to be ready to start the Gryffindor celebration party. You had whispered Comet the passwords when she came to make sure you were all right, and she smiled, telling you she’d bring Nox along, even if he wanted you to lose initially.

After you and most of your friends started to walk towards the Common Room you felt a rather sharp pain in your arm. You winced but swallowed a whimper, you didn’t want to worry any of your friends, especially Lily and Remus, who looked somewhat at ease now.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you announced.

Lily frowned, “I’ll come along…”

You shook your head. “No need. It’ll be quick, I’ll see you in the common room. Could you help me find something cosy to change into?”

She gave you a scrutinising look but nodded. Stepping ahead, but as you diverted, you felt an arm stopping you. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” he joked.

You turned to Remus with a diverted smile. “To the Toilets. Care to accompany me?” you said the last bit with sarcasm.

Remus chuckled. “What if I do?” he said then, in a rather teasing tone. “With the magnet you have for trouble I wouldn’t be surprised if you bumped into a troll or something.”

“A troll? In the girl’s lavatories?! Don’t be ridiculous, Rem! Go on and spare some fire whiskey from me, why don’t you?”

He wasn’t too sure about letting you go on your own, but he also knew how you were feeling, you had been literally surrounded by people from the moment you’d stepped out of the murky lake, and while it was nice to get hugged and all after getting hurt, sometimes all you needed was time to process what was had happened, he would know, he certainly did sometimes.

Perhaps, like he had many times, you just wanted a few minutes for peace and quiet. And although it took him a few seconds, he reluctantly let go of his grip on your arm and allowed you to go. “How much?” he asked with a smile.

“At least a flask,” you responded, he arched an eyebrow at you. “Come on, I’ve had quite a week, I deserve it, don’t I?”

He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll save two then.”

You smiled widely “That’s why I love you, Moony!” You had used a rather playful tone when you said it but that didn’t stop the knot that formed on the boy’s stomach, “See you in a bit, yeah?”

The boy nodded and you turned towards the toilets, speeding through to check on the wound. You removed your robe and sweater and used a spell to wipe them off the murky water as you checked the wound. Quickly washing it over the sink as you saw the splotches of cherry red slide down, contrasting against the porcelain white sink.

You rolled your eyes, the fucking wound was getting more annoying and inconvenient than painful at this point. Regardless, you dried it out, threw some of the painful ointment you had kept in your pocket with a spell for it to remain fresh in case of an emergency and wrapped it again, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes from the sharp sting of the dreadful but effective medicine you had somehow crafted.

You took a deep breath and moved towards the outside, you were just rounding the corner when you heard two voices, two very recognizable voices.

“You fucking asshole,” Regulus said, anger dripping from his tone.

“Off me, Black!” Barty countered. You leaned your head over, Regulus had him pushed against the wall as Barty fumed and tried to squirm his way out. Regulus was taller, but Barty had always been more vicious, and you knew how strong he was, after all, he had been the one to haul you to the shack on Monday.

“You do that again and you’re dеad meat,” Regulus seethed in between gritted teeth. “You got what you wanted, now back the fuck off!”

“Why are you even trying to… You didn’t have the nightmares I had! You SAW Evan, in the fucking infirmary!” Barty seemed to feel actual grief over that last bit.

“You both had that one coming, you think I’m blind? You’ve had it against them since the quaffle incident.”

“Well, she had it coming too!” The boy against the wall complained. It’s about me, you realised. And it almost pissed you off that Regulus would even try to defend you, who the hell does he think he is?!

You turned around to leave when you heard Regulus mutter a jinx and heard a howl from Crouch, you leaned over the wall again, to try and see what had happened, but Barty spotted you.

“Bitch’s here,” he said as he nodded your way, his jaw slightly slack.

“Yeah and this is none of my business,” you said, skipping past the two boys, not sparing a second glance at Barty, who was on the floor clutching his stomach.

“Hey!” you heard Regulus’ distressed voice “Wait up.”

Barty huffed at his reaction, rolling his eyes as Regulus trailed behind you like a lost puppy. Fucking Blacks’ obsession with that fucking girl, he thought as he stood up and limped to the other side.

“I said wait up!” Regulus said, grabbing your forearm. You yanked it away from him, with a vicious frown.

“Regulus, don’t fucking touch me,” you said in a warning tone, he seemed to recoil but stood his ground.

“Let me explain,” he said, running past you and blocking your path, the anguished look on his face reminded you so much of Sirius you almost folded “I–”

“No need to explain,” you dismissed while shaking your head. “Whatever you do with your life is your fucking business. And no need to worry about it, I don’t like talking behind people's backs like others. I’m no snitch, and I’m not gonna go running my mouth either.”

He seemed taken aback by that, blinking a few times as he processed the information. “You…” he stammered, “you never read my letter.”

You scoffed. “Of course I didn’t fucking read your letter Regulus, there was nothing you could have said to take back what you’d done. Sirius and I didn’t talk to each other for fucking years after that, I thought he hated me!” You were angry, bottled-up emotions spilling out of you like boiling water in a small pot. He was quiet, staring at you like he didn’t know what to say “Fucking thought so,” you whispered and skipped past him.

He had thought of so many things to say to you over the years. He was sure you hated him because he hadn’t let out the fact that it had been your idea, not for telling his parents about the escapade, and of all the times he had run this conversation in his head, none of them had included that fact. He felt like short-circuiting, and you were about to turn the corner when he managed to say something. “It wasn’t me!” You continued your way. “I didn’t tell them, I wasn’t the snitch!”

You froze in place, what? that… it doesn’t make sense.

Regulus took a deep breath, grateful you were listening, finally listening. “Someone sent an owl to my dad, they said they’d seen you in town.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes analysing him, his words, his red-rimmed eyes and the absolute raw emotion visible on his face, nothing like the stoic Regulus you were accustomed to.

“He asked me where you were,” he continued narrating. “I told him you had gone flying but he already knew. Then he slipped something in my drink and I couldn’t– it was veritaserum.”

You looked at him shocked, he was about to cry from the memory. Veritaserum? His parents used veritaserum on him?!? You wouldn’t put it past Orion and Walburga but still, it was absolutely heinous. “Reggie….”

He let out something in between a breath and a sob when he heard the nickname, the same nickname he had hated but longed to hear after the incident. He looked so much like Sirius you wanted nothing more than to comfort him, you hastily realised how awful you had been.

“You never…” you swallowed. “You didn’t snitch on us.” He shook his head. You sighed, you face falling. “BIoody hell, I’m an asshole,” you said thinking back to all the times you had ignored and blown off the boy, your boyfriend’s little brother for fucks sake.

“You didn’t know,” he tried to reassure.

“Ignorance is no excuse,” you managed to say, disgusted with the way you had treated the poor boy. A boy who –and you had noticed from the beginning– craved a decent friendship, some kind of human connection. All the attachment you had felt for him before the escapade at the hotel came crashing back, and you groaned and how much of an asshole you had been “Sorry.”

He shrugged, “Does that… does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

You sighed again, cringing at yourself for causing such an impression on him. “Of course, I don’t fucking hate you Reggie. I was pissed, I AM pissed, I…” you struggled to form a coherent sentence .“I trusted you, besides Sirius warning, I trusted you because it was what my gut told me to do and then… then I thought you had betrayed us and I was pissed, I was pissed at you, at my parents at your parents, at Sirius who didn’t admit it was my idea and…” you sucked in a breath, “I was pissed with myself, for being foolish enough to trust you.”

“I’m sorry…”

You shook your head, taking a step closer, the urge to comfort him almost taking over, “No Reg… It’s me, I AM sorry, for not giving you a chance to–” You remembered the train, the race, the other times Regulus had tried to approach you and you had either ignored him or scowled at him to scare him away “–And you tried so many times.”

He laughed at himself, “I’ve been told I’m rather stubborn.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Reminds me of someone.”

“Will you…” He hesitated, “Will you tell Sirius?” he asked, a mix of frightened and hopeful.

You nodded, “He needs to know, he’s… resentful.”

Regulus swallowed, another one of those expressions you had seen your boyfriend do, his eyes were still red, his breath was heavy and he looked like he was about to burst into a panic attack, you took another step towards him, reaching your hand to grab onto his arm before you stopped yourself. “Do you mind it if I–” you started, “can I hug you?”

He turned to you, a little shocked at your request, Regulus looked like he desperately needed a hug, you weren’t sure if your hug was the one he needed, but you hoped you could comfort him, if only to take back a little bit of the evil you had done to him, even if it was under the wrong belief.

Eventually, he nodded and you leaned closer, wrapping your arms around him, he was taller than you, unlike when you’d met, shorter than Sirius, but taller than you regardless. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “for being a piece of shit.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have known. I just needed someone to blame and then Sirius–”

“It’s fine now,” he said with a smile. You don’t hate me anymore. Regulus seemed to relax as you rubbed your hand on his back, trying to comfort him as best as you could, and then he pulled back. “You have a party to attend to,” he told you, motioning to the side. “You were brilliant today.”

You smiled, “Bullshit, I pretended to know where the snitch was just to get Barty off Gale’s back.”

“And you fooled him,” he added with a bit of a smile. “That’s no easy feat.”

You shrugged, “You certainly helped.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

You swallowed. “Did you… did you let me win?” you asked with a frown.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “I would never let you win!” he said disdainfully, a whisper of the disagreeable Reggie you had met at the park. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “So that means I won fair and square.”

“You jumped off your fucking broom to get the snitch, of course, you won fair and square.”

You shrugged, “I knew I had the swamp marble, and I was gonna fall off the broom anyway.”

He clenched his jaw, “Fucking Barty.”

“I can deal with him, don’t keep messing around or you’ll end up with a shaved head or something one day.” He placed a hand on his hair, looking slightly panicked and you laughed. “You’re so much like Sirius is ridiculous.”

He frowned at that. “Just go to your party.”

You smiled again, holding a laugh as you turned around, deciding not to tease him further, but you turned back to him “Hey Reg… Will you be alright?”

He looked at you and nodded. “I’ve got you as an ally now, of course, I’ll be alright.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: You guys, I had some people asking me about Reggie for a while and I did mention that eventually things would be fixed up between him and the reader, didn't I? I know it took a while but it was sooo satisfying to write this one, and I've been wanting to see your reactions since I wrote it a few weeks ago, I really hope you enjoyed it <;3 Reggie deserves all the love!

Read more Marauders Fiction

245 notes · View notes

ineffable-rohese · 5 months

Text

Neil's picks for Aziraphale & Crowley's Angelic Playlist were Cry Me a River (Julie London), The Book of Love (Peter Gabriel), and The Show Must Go On (Queen).

Three songs. Two about the aftermath of a break up, and one about coming together in love. So very clearly, we can infer a Crowley POV song, an Aziraphale POV song, and a song for the two of them and their happily ever after. (Song lyrics for all three after the cut for reference.)

The Book of Love is a perfect wedding song. It's a song to play under two people declaring their desire to spend eternity together. With lines about dancing and reading and it's perfect. It's originally a Magnetic Fields song that was released in 1999. Peter Gabriel recorded a cover in 2004 for the movie Shall We Dance about which I know nothing but the Wikipedia summary. But since we know how movies are important here... It's a standard rom-com with a bored Richard Gere secretly taking up ballroom dancing after following a pretty lady from the train (J-Lo). His wife (Susan Sarandon) thinks he's cheating, turns out nope, just dancing, drama ensues, he gives up dancing but eventually his wife becomes supportive and he realizes he loves his wife. And dancing. And they live happily ever after, with both of them getting what they want. Maybe we can draw some parallels here? But I think the song speaks for itself better than its connection with what sounds like a standard early 2000s romcom.

The individual songs are where it gets interesting.

Cry Me a River was first released by Julie London in 1951, but became popular after she sang it in the 1956 film The Girl Can't Help It starring Jayne Mansfield as an aspiring rock 'n roll singer. Again, relying on Wikipedia here, but there is an interesting bit about a blossoming forbidden relationship, wiretapped phones, and someone editing the recordings to keep the love affair secret. But again, it's probably a stretch to look too deeply into the movie.

The song has a very classic jazz feel. It's from a decade and a half later, but if you were, say, an angel who enjoyed Moonlight Serenade or A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square, it has a similar feel. You definitely wouldn't say it's bebop. The lyrics are about someone who was in love and had their heartbroken. Their former love (who never shed a tear over the break up) has returned and wants to make up. The singer essentially says "you love me? Prove it. Cry me a river like I cried when you left." Which, fair, but in our context, ouch.

The Show Must Go On is a Queen song, and we know how much Queen we hear in association with Crowley in particular. But this just isn't any Queen song. It was written by Brian May about Freddie Mercury's struggles as he neared the end of his life, and it was recorded in 1990. (Coincidentally or not, the year Good Omens was published, a book co-created by friends, one of whom would die too soon, and the other of whom would reflect on his friend's end of life struggles as the story was told more fully. Yes, I'm crying about this.)

In the song, the singer is fighting to reach a place of freedom, away from empty spaces and heartbreak. They are fighting with pure will, and even though their heart is breaking they smile and carry on because the show must go on.

What I really appreciate here with the POV songs, is that they are cross-coded. Queen is Crowley-coded, but the song about someone fighting through heartbreak to achieve something vital, while forcing a smile for the audience? That's absolutely Aziraphale in Heaven. And the 40s/50s jazz ballad is absolutely Aziraphale's style, but the jilted lover who may be willing to give their love a second chance but needs to see proof that the lover cares as much as they do is Crowley all the way.

It's almost like... Well it's almost like even in their separation, they are each carrying a piece of the other. The book of love has music in it, indeed.

The Book of Love

The book of love is long and boring No one can lift the damn thing It's full of charts and facts, and figures And instructions for dancing But I I love it when you read to me. And you You can read me anything.

The book of love has music in it In fact that's where music comes from Some of it's just transcendental Some of it's just really dumb But I I love it when you sing to me And you You can sing me anything

The book of love is long and boring And written very long ago It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes And things we're all too young to know But I I love it when you give me things And you You ought to give me wedding rings

Cry Me a River

Now you say you're lonely You cry the whole night thorough Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

Now you say you're sorry For bein' so untrue Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head While you never shed a tear Remember, I remember all that you said Told me love was too plebeian Told me you were through with me and

Now you say you love me Well, just to prove you do Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

The Show Must Go On

Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for?

Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance Another heartache, another failed romance, on and on Does anybody know what we are living for? I guess I'm learning I must be warmer now I'll soon be turning, round the corner now Outside the dawn is breaking But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free

The show must go on The show must go on Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends

The show must go on The show must go on I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on On with the show Show Show must go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on

#ineffable playlist #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable lovers #ineffable divorce #queen #peter gabriel #julie london #neil gaiman #terry pratchett

282 notes · View notes

yeonhours · 5 months

Text

txt hyung line's ideal type

GENRE fluff <3 i miss writing fluff content

WARNINGS none

REQUESTED nope but soft hours are open :)

BELLA'S NOTE 4 U ! guess who's back !! man i missed writing sm i'll continue writing again and i'm trying to get back into a routine

SOOBIN .......

Someone authoritative and can take the lead role in the relationship

As he himself has said that he doesn’t like to take lead in relationships on national television for god’s sake lmaoo .

I have been over this a million times but since he is the leader he is expected to carry out so many responsibilities.

He’s always looking out for his members , trying is hardest in whatever he does so he’d definitely be attracted to someone who can look after him

He wants nothing but someone to hold him, play with his hair , feed him and check up on him frequently

soobin is so cute when it comes to bf responsibilites i can promise you that he'll be the best you've ever had

hes your comfort person cuddling with him is like your therapy session at this point

very proud of you too, he's gonna somehow bring up your name atleast once a day

Soobin secretly adores you when you baby talk to him . Do it in front of the members he’d act like he is embarrassed by the entire situation but the moment he’s in the comfort of his room or a private space , it’s a different story

He’d nuzzle into you when you coo at him , would smush his cheek against your palm when you talk sweetly to him , like he is a baby

Soobin deserves the entire world , he’s literally the most cutest boy ever !

He goes crazy for a confident s/o , he literally looks at you with heart eyes if you dont take shit from people

YEONJUN........

Yeonjun, according to me would only be attracted to someone who gives out the same energy as him

I feel like he would be attracted to people who have the same standpoint in certain issues as him ?

plus it's a big no for him when they're very insecure with themselves and seek validation like all the time

He'd want a s/o who knows their worth and who does not constantly look out for validation from people around them

most likely to take a liking on people who do not take a shit from others and are confident and outgoing

also sometimes he needs them to be there for him too, he believes its a two way thing

The feeling of someone caring about him always makes butterflies swarm his stomach, he is so grateful for it.

would be your biggest hype man on god he literally worships the ground u walk on

your bestie, your boyfie, a mother whos always dotting on you, your fashion influencer, your hype man

BEOMGYU.......

Beomgyu , my cute little bear he deserves the entire world and i’m ready to fight anyone who wants to disagree with me

You know the saying that goes every extroverted person needs a introverted s/o and the same goes for beomgyu

He loves if his s/o is shy , introverted and most often keeps it to themselves

He loves being the only person to know the real you

He would protect you under all costs , you are his everything and nothing shall ever harm you when beomgyu is there

Always cooks for you , and makes sure you are eating well and not skipping any meals

Makes hours long playlist and sends them to you , it is in some sort of way his love language

He doesn't mind a less shy or an insecure s/o because what else his job ? he’s your bf and this is his primary duty , to be your best hype man

#txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x reader #soobin fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt soft hours #txt x reader #txt reaction #txt x y/n #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x you #soobin x reader #beomgyu soft hours #soobin soft hours #txt post #— % bella speaks #choi soobin #yeonbin

214 notes · View notes

fandomxpreferences · 11 months

Text

Two Lines, Two Idiots Chapter Nine: I'm Uncomfy When People Do Nice Things

Series Masterlist

Pairing:Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader, Twin!JJ Maybank x reader

TW:pregnancy, mild trauma (?), I think thats it

Summary: Rafe proves just how far he's willing to go to take care of you.

Word Count:2k

A/N: Listen, I did minimal editing on this so just ignore any typos okay

To say you've been stressed is an understatement. At nearly twenty-eight weeks pregnant, the clock is ticking and each second that you don't have a plan worked out feels a little more like you're suffocating.

Rafe has just gotten you back to a relatively normal state; making sure you get enough sleep and eat to your heart's content. However, despite your flare-up settling down, you haven't been able to take a full breath since the conversation about your living situation a few weeks ago.

With the babies much more active and your back constantly aching, everything feels too real and it's finally sunk in that this is really happening.

"What's on your mind?"

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden sound of Rafe's voice and your hand comes to rest over your heart.

"What's not on my mind is the real question. We're only two months out from the babies being born and we don't have anything figured out. We don't have cribs or any necessities; which I mean, why would we? It's not like we have anywhere to set them up."

Rafe can see your anxiety rising as your breathing picks up and releases a deep sigh. You watch as he sticks his hand out, eyeing him skeptically before taking it.

"Come on."

He pulls you up with ease, both of his hands settling on your waist to keep you steady. Your clumsiness has reached new heights as your center of gravity continues to shift and pregnancy brain wreaks havoc.

"Where are we going?" You whine, and Rafe just shoots you a look. He stops for a second to allow you to slip on sandals before dragging you out to the Rover.

He buckles you in like usual before rounding the front and climbing into the driver's side and you watch the scenery blur as he heads away from the cut. The drive is silent, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.

You frown when he turns down an unfamiliar road, somewhere between the cut and figure eight. Your eyes widen as you take in all the large homes, awestruck at the beauty of the quaint neighborhood.

He pulls into a driveway and parks, taking a deep breath before looking over at you. The confusion is evident on your feature; your brows scrunched, and a quizzical look in your eyes.

"Where are we?"

Again, Rafe doesn't answer. Instead, he gets out and opens your door to help you down.

"Rafe, this is someone's house. We can't just trespass." You urge, and he remains stoic.

You drag your feet as he leads you up the steps to the door, completely at a loss. It's a beautiful beachfront house with a screened-in sun room and at least two stories. It's the type of house you grew up dreaming about.

The type of house that would be perfect for raising a family, large but cozy with big windows for sticky little hands to smudge up.

Your stomach does a flip when he pulls out a set of keys and turns to face you.

"You know that I'll always take care of you, right?" He asks, and you nod slowly.

"And you trust me when I say that I'll always find a way to provide and you'll never have to worry again?"

You nod once more, blinking quickly as tears sting your waterline. He places the key in the knob and opens the door, using the hand placed on your lower back to nudge you inside.

Your feet move on their own accord, and you step past the threshold.

"Welcome home, baby."

You whip around to face him, shocked despite your suspicions.

"What do you mean? Did you rent this place?" You breathe, and he chuckles.

"Nope. It's all ours. Closed escrow last week. I've just been trying to work out some last-second details."

Your mouth hangs open as you stare up at him.

"No you fucking didn't. Rafe Cameron, you did not buy a house. Certainly not this house. It's huge!"

He laughs at your genuine bafflement and nods his head toward the open space.

"Go take a look around. There are five bedrooms and four baths."

You stay cemented in place, trying to process the new information. He takes it upon himself to lead you around as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you see the kitchen that's half the size of the house you grew up in, and he laughs.

"If you think this is nice, wait till you see the pool and private beach access. It's our own little slice of heaven."

His heart sinks when he sees a tear fall, and he's eye level in an instant.

"What's wrong? Do you not like it?" He asks in a panic as his thumbs try to wipe away the rapidly falling tears.

"It's beautiful Rafe. It's just… I can't leave JJ. I can't sleep knowing I'm here while he's still slumming it." You cry, and Rafe breathes a sigh of relief.

"Come on."

He takes you outside, surpassing the aforementioned pool to stop in front of a second building.

"It's a guest house. I figured you'd have an issue with leaving JJ, so I thought maybe he could live here. Might help to have an extra set of hands." He shrugs, and you freeze.

An uneasy feeling washes over you, and your first instinct is to run for the hills. By all means, what Rafe has done is thoughtful and mind-blowing. However, you struggle with him buying you little things, and he's handing you the keys to a house? Not just you, but your brother as well?

Your mind can't quite process and Rafe notices immediately when your hands start ringing together and your pupils dilate.

"Hey, stay with me. I know it's a lot, but I couldn't stand to see you so stressed out. I thought it could be a fun little project with Sarah. You know, decorating and picking out furniture." He scrambles, and you finally look up at him.

"Why?" You whisper, and Rafe truly doesn't understand how you could think he wouldn't pluck the sun out of the sky and hand it to you if he was able.

"Because I love you, and you deserve nice things. I plan on giving you those nice things, whether you like it or not."

Your lip quivers as you look around at the vast property and you shake your head.

"But a house?"

Rafe's large hands envelop yours and lay them against his chest; a grounding tactic he's learned over the past few months to help with your anxiety.

"Baby, I would buy the whole town if it would make you smile. So yes, I'm giving you a house so we can turn it into a home."

You pull him down by his neck, pressing a salty kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead to his.

"Thank you."

Rafe kisses the tip of your nose and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he can with your large belly.

"Anything for you."

The two of you stay like that for a second before you take a deep breath and rub your stomach. Your eyes light up suddenly and Rafe smiles at the way you're practically buzzing.

"Can we show JJ?"

He nods with a chuckle and leads you back to the truck.

"Of course."

The whole drive back you're shifting in your seat, nerves and eagerness oozing out of your pores. You practically leap from the seat despite Rafe's protest as soon as he parks, and race inside to the best of your ability.

"JJ, come with me." You sing, and your brother looks at you like you've lost your mind before glancing at Rafe.

"Everyone can come if they want." Rafe offers, and the rest of the group shares a look before nodding.

You take JJ in the truck with you while the rest follow in the Twinkie, ignoring his line of interrogation the same way Rafe had with you.

"Where the fuck are we?" JJ questions the second you pull into the driveway, and everyone spills out of the Twinkie.

"What is this?" Sarah asks, and you just give Rafe a knowing smile.

They frown as the two of you walk to the door, hanging back in case someone comes out with a shotgun. Their frowns turn to shock when Rafe unlocks the deadbolt and nods his head to signal everyone to enter.

They do so slowly, arms crossed as they look around the same way you did.

"Welcome to our not-so-humble abode!"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, everyone gasps and turns to face you.

"What?!" JB shouts, and you nod while laughing.

"Rafe bought the most expensive surprise ever." You say, and Sarah's most drops open.

"You didn't let me help?" She scolds with a slap to Rafe's arm and he back away with a mock scowl.

"Relax, I already told Y/N that the two of you have free reign to decorate however you want."

This seems to improve her mood as she squeals and claps happily.

You turn to face JJ, and he gives you a half grin. It doesn't meet his eyes, and you can tell that he's trying to be happy for you despite his qualms.

"You wanna see outside?" You murmur, and he tries to appear excited. Rafe motions for the rest to hang back, aware that you need a moment alone.

JJ lets out a low whistle when he sees the pool and the beach just a few yards away.

"This is insane. I'm happy for you."

He pulls you into a hug and you squeeze him a little tighter.

"Do you like it?" You press, and he cocks his head to the side.

"Shit, what's not to like? You got the happy ending you deserve."

You hum in agreement before motioning toward the guest house.

"Well, it's a good thing since you'll be living here too. If you want to, that is."

The speed at which JJ's head whips to look at you is almost concerning and he studies your face for any signs of humor.

"Are you crazy? I can't impose like that!" He exclaims, his arms moving wildly as he gesticulates to emphasize his point.

"How do you even know the word impose? Anyway, you wouldn't be. You'd be living in the guest house. It's all yours." You explain, and for the first time in your life, JJ is at a loss for words.

"Is Rafe okay with that?" He finally asks and you nod.

"It was his idea. The babies are going to want Uncle JJ around, and I guess I wouldn't hate having you here either." You tease, bumping his shoulder with your own.

You're interrupted by loud chatter as the rest of the pogues walk out, John B already talking about the surf break and house parties.

"What's going on over here?" Kie smiles, and you shrug casually.

"Just talking about how nice it's gonna be to have JJ living in the guest house."

Rafe pulls your back into his chest, his hands sneaking around your front to rest on your belly. Everyone looks around, completely baffled at the new information. JJ is still staring at the guest house, unsure how to react.

It's nice; bigger than the shit hole the two of you grew up in. He's barely ever had a room to himself, let alone an entire place. Living in his sister and Rafe Cameron's fancy guest house isn't exactly how he saw his life unfolding, but he isn't mad at it.

His thoughts are interrupted by John B and Pope slapping him on the back.

"You good?" Pope frowns, and JJ blows out a long breath.

"Yeah, man. Just surprised."

John B nods in understanding before he breaks out into a smile.

"You know this means we're crashing here all the time right? Why hang out at the chateau when we can chill at a five-star resort?" He jokes, and JJ smiles brightly.

"Shit yeah, man. We're practically kooks now."

Rafe interrupts with a loud scoff and shakes his head.

"I wouldn't go that far, Maybank. Besides, being a kook isn't all it's cracked up to be."

JJ slips off his boots and jumps in the pool before surfacing to stare down your boyfriend.

"I don't know, bro. This seems pretty fucking awesome."

There's a moment of silence before Rafe laughs loudly.

"Yeah, it's not too shabby."

You just stand and watch all the people you love most in your backyard, trying to commit the image to memory.

"We need to start shopping, like, yesterday." Sarah suddenly says, and you wrap an arm around her shoulder.

"We can look online tonight." You assure her, and she kisses your cheek before Rafe playfully pushes her away. Her lips are replaced with his and he nuzzles into your neck.

"Are you happy, baby?"

You shift to look at him, and his heart melts at the way you're glowing.

"The happiest." You sigh, and Rafe kisses your throat softly.

"Then so am I."

@i-love-rafe @itsmytimetoodream @brynley-a-xoxo @whore4drew @houseofperfecttaste @everythingmarveltopgun @f4ll-for-you @athenabarnes @antagonize-me-motherfucker @writtenwordslover @madsnxo @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starrystarkey93 @keylin1730 @fulla02 @loving-and-dreaming @evening-starlight @ibleedcalories @badasspizzalover @veescorneroftheworld @pinkpantheris @brooklynscherry-z @starkeylover @sebastiansstanswhore @lothiriel9 @katzarantos @gillybear17 @genius2050

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron series #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks #outer banks series

483 notes · View notes

reel-fear · 2 months

Text

Bendy And The Power Of Representation

So those graphic novel pages huh? Seems I posted my cover post at just the right time because literally minutes after I was informed the preview pages came out and uh. This is Buddy and Norman!

Oh dear... I'll put the full graphic novel pages down below but I have so much to say on how awful this is it'll need several posts. However, right now I want to mostly talk about representation and briefly touch on why it's so damn important + inform others about the current shit Mike and Meatly are saying about the books n such.

Now note: All the things I'm saying below are based on my personal experience, maybe some people don't care about seeing the representation of their identities in the media they consume. Maybe some will think I'm merely being dramatic and I might be but I'm not lying when I say I personally believe being represented and seen in the media you consume can be one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.

Look I'm not here to argue with people who think that Norman in particular was never meant to be a person of color, I would argue he is very coded but the points I'm making here are not about how Norman particularly had to be black. The point I want to make is the lack of diversity in our cast in general and how Norman's design has heavily dwindled it considering most people [including myself] rightfully assumed he was at least one of three black characters in our cast. Not according to this though and looking at the the rest of the pages our chances of seeing any kind of decent diverse character designs dwindle more.

So firstly... Buddy a character who has been said to experience discrimination for being Jewish, lacks any kind of ethnic features at all. That's... Cool but yeah I think this shows a rather grim future for the character designs as a whole.

Also, Norman... As I mentioned he was largely assumed to be black due to his southern dialect, his voice, and other factors. But nope, he's a generic white guy. With... Gross looking hair tbh...

Sadly this is not the first time the topic of poor representation has come up concerning Bendy either.

[note how he disregarded the other mentioned minorities and specifically cites LGBTQ+ characters]

This sucks as a response but sadly considering Mike's recent behavior it seems to fall in line with the Bendy team's general lack of care towards representing anyone who isn't straight and white.

So how did Mike respond to all of this? Well...

TDLR - "Who cares if the Graphic Novel we're selling to our fans for full price sucks, we now no longer consider the books canon."

This is horrible, I know Mike and Meatly are only really in this for the money, the fact BATIM is in the state that it is proved that, but they really couldn't have been less obvious about it?

So basically when it benefited them, AKA when it meant people would have to buy the books to understand important lore like Boris' identity... [the character you spend all of chapter 4 trying to rescue] They were considered canon... At least the author sure thought so.

Hell even in the tweet Meatly made here he doesn't say the books aren't canon, he just says they're not needed to understand Bendy's world. Now Mike is using that as a shield instead of doing the right thing and saying "You're right, the poc in our fanbase deserve better we'll have it fixed right away!" Like most reasonable people would considering how his studio has literally been accused of bigotry, poor rep, and general lack of diversity before. Why risk making more people avoid this franchise?

Also just... Imagine how insulting it would be to be an author who helps flesh out so much of this world and gives its characters depth like NONE of the games have managed to do, filling in plot holes, creating a timeline for events, etc... Then because they couldn't bother to change the graphic novel for ur story to be better they instead throw out all ur writing and declare it non-canon.

If I were her to put it bluntly I'd feel insulted and horrible. Why make her do all the work of making sure her works align with the timeline and game's canon if they're not part of it?

I can't speak for her obviously but Meatly and Mike know of her account, so speaking out against this could very much risk her being fired or at least not allowed to work on Bendy anymore... So I would take all her tweets on this situation with a grain of salt. She very much is not in a position where she could be honest if she was against this.

So with all that history now, the question I'm sure many are wondering is... Why does this even matter? Who cares how diverse the characters are when it doesn't affect the story?

Well for one thing, if you think like that consider having more empathy for your fellow human beings but also it does affect the story. One of DCTL's themes is about the bigotry of the period it is set in.

Now the Bendy team has managed to make the discussion of this book centering around their bigotry which is ironic in a way I almost find funny... Though this entire thing is just a bit too hurtful and upsetting to find any humor in, at least for me...

But another thing is representation can bring people such joy when it's done with care. It really shouldn't be understated how far it can go to make people feel more comfortable in their own sense of self to have a franchise choose to represent them and their experiences. I know this from personal experience.

Now if you've been following me for a while, you know I'm a big fan of Transformers. I no longer engage with it much due to baggage from the fandom's awful treatment of me, but before I left I remember being able to witness the release of Transformers: Earthspark first few episodes.

These introduced the Maltos the family who meets the Transformers and serve as our protagonists and guess what?

It's a family of Filipinos!

Now look I'm not Filipino, but I am half Mexican and I have a lot of love for that part of me. So seeing the representation of any Spanish culture in this franchise I loved made me so happy! I remember just watching the first episode I was happily telling my partner how fun it was to see people like me and my family in a world I love!!

But it didn't end with the Maltos in fact... There was another character who spoke to me, their name was Nightshade. Their pronouns are They/Them and they spoke about it on the show! Not just mentioning it and moving on but actually sitting down to speak about their experiences...

This clip in particular really turned them into an absolute favorite among fans and well... I'll let you see it for yourself.

This scene... Fills me with a joy I cannot describe. It is the creators of a franchise I love telling me they see people like me and find the stories of people like me important enough to include in this series. There really is nothing like being able to say there are Non-Binary characters in a franchise I have so much love for. I was far from the only one too.

This is amazing, this is wonderful, this clip and character were moving to so so many people and...

This is a joy the Bendy creators have no interest in giving their audience. They don't care how you feel as a queer and/or black person, which... Hurts...

I... Discovered I was trans while in the Bendy community... It was where I learned the word Non-Binary and started using it for myself. To me Bendy will always have that connection... But the devs themselves seem to hate the idea of being forced to actually represent that in their games... And I still haven't really gotten over that pain or betrayal if I'm being honest.

So...

With Norman now being portrayed as white here, we are down to two black characters. Thomas [who Meatly has claimed is white in the past] based on a vague conversation with Sammy in DCTL they could easily ignore... And Jacob.... A book exclusive character which according to Mike means he is non-canon.

If we don't count Thomas' vague talk with Sammy about disrespect as confirmation he's black [which the devs don't seem to think so] then we have one black character in all of Bendy... And he recently got retconned into non-existence. Great.

Look... The Bendy fanbase has always been full of wonderfully diverse designs for the staff and even more diverse people creating them. Bendy's fandom was built with the work of queer people from all kinds of places.

If the Bendy team continues to show how little they care for anyone who isn't straight or white... I wonder who they are counting on to buy this book or in general financially support their franchise?

I know right now, I am furious, I am hurt and I most certainly don't feel like buying a book that's currently just a massive fuck you to the fans and I hope I've expressed why I feel this way in an easy-to-understand way here...

Either way, I will not be forgetting this anytime soon and I hope the fanbase does the same. Maybe just maybe, if there's enough backlash to this series of horrible decisions they'll learn better.

Right now, it's kinda of our only hope for a better future, and if you know any poc who are into Bendy right now... Maybe consider making sure they're feeling okay.

I know from experience how much this sort of thing hurts, to have the creators of a world you love straight up tell you they don't intend to fix the fact no one in their stories represents your identity or life...

What I'm trying to say is...

This is a really low point for Bendy and its fans... Even more for the poc who have to witness such ignorant and careless attitudes from Mike and Meatly towards their feelings.

Please don't forget them when you discuss these tweets or this situation. That's exactly what Mike and Meatly want right now.

For them to be unrepresented and therefore... Unheard.

#batim #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #seriously though we cannot let this slide #ramblez #please please keep talking about this and why its not okay #Ive already had people saying to not be too mean or disrespectful to mike over this and to put bluntly #if mike is gonna be this blatently disrespectful to his fans he deserves whatever he fucking gets #this is such a horrible situation Im just glad I got the chance to speak positively in this essay #I mean not about bendy but I got to gush about how cool it is that transformers has a nonbinary character in it so that was fun #this is what Bendy could have and refuses to... Oh well more motive to make Showtime ig #but seriously what is the point of supporting these indie devs if theyre gonna be just as horrible abt this shit #as their corporate competitors #at several points bendy just feels like every other horror game out there but worse #its so so so frustrating

96 notes · View notes

thefreakandthehair · 7 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 1st: Parents | Runaway - Sword | Youthful cw: allusions to neglectful and alcoholic parent, police, incarceration [happy ending promised, as always!] read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

Eddie runs away from home for the last time when he’s thirteen years old.

The ground beneath his feet is barely visible, barely felt against the worn soles of his too-small sneakers as he runs through the familiar trails of Hawkins’ forest. He’s run away before, usually sneaking out in the middle of the night when he hears the tell-tale silence of his father falling into a drunken stupor on the couch, but this time feels different. This time, he’s actually running, no backpack or hastily thrown together bag of essentials to weigh him down.

He hadn’t had time, not with so many police cars showing up at once.

His breath comes in quick bursts, just enough oxygen to carry him off the beaten path onto a path only he knows. It comes without markers or posts. Why would there be signs here? No one else needs the most direct route between Clyde Munson and Wayne Munson’s homes. A 10-minute run, quicker if he sprints like he is now, connects two different worlds and only one feels safe.

Uncle Wayne has, for much of Eddie’s life, been home. He’s lived with him on and off for a few months at a time, sometimes after dear old dad had been hauled away by Officer Hopper again and other times, when he’d simply run away and his dad couldn’t be bothered to track him down. Eddie spent nearly a year with his Uncle Wayne after his mom died, a wonderful year where Eddie experienced an actual parent and got to figure out things he actually enjoys– fantasy books, D&D, music with intense virtuosity and aggressive guitar lines. He never should’ve gone back, but the guilt ate at him. Maybe it’ll be different, he’d thought at the time. Maybe he’ll care now.

The fact that he’s running through the woods at full speed away from what could only be defined as a fucking siege with his dad at the center is all the answer he needs. There’s nothing he can do to help his dad– there’s nothing he should do, because he’s a kid at the end of the day and he never should’ve been put in this situation to begin with.

Eddie shakes his head as he runs, shaking the thoughts from his brain as he hears the familiar, comforting sounds of people talking in the distance. He barrels through the tree-line into one of his Uncle’s neighbors who steadies him by the shoulders, checks him over quickly to find nothing physically wrong.

“You alright, son? Looks like you seen a ghost.”

Nope, just a nightmare, he thinks.

Eddie shakes his head and looks around frantically for Wayne, out of breath. “No, no, I’m– I’m fine. Is Uncle Wayne home?”

“Eddie?” As though summoned, Wayne appears in the doorway of his own trailer a few lots down. Eddie shrugs out of the neighbor’s touch and runs toward the voice, the one that makes his brain slow down from the spinning wheel it’s been on since the first fist pounded on his dad’s door.

“Wayne, thank God, thank fuck,” Eddie mutters as he runs into him, hugging him unabashedly around the middle. His fingers dig tightly into Wayne’s back, clutching the fabric of his familiar flannel and grounding himself as Wayne hugs him back.

“I’m uh, I’m glad to see you, too, kid. Everything alright?” Wayne tone is questioning, rightfully so. He doesn’t know yet that Clyde’s been arrested and likely won’t get out this time, or that Eddie’s here to stay.

Hours later though, after Eddie’s shared his side of the story and Wayne’s made him a mug of his famous hot chocolate, the police arrive. Officer Hopper assures Eddie that he’s in no trouble, that he didn’t need to run, that he’ll never need to run from Clyde again.

“I know you’ve got a lot of your stuff still at the house. You got family around to stay with?” Officer Hopper asks, looking at Eddie but clearly asking Wayne.

“‘Course he does, he’s here, ain’t he?” Wayne nods at Officer Hopper and Eddie catches the interaction. “My old van ain’t much– she needs some work– but should be enough to get us back and forth with your stuff, Ed.”

The van is more than enough for the barebones possessions Eddie cares to bring: an old acoustic guitar that belonged to his mom, a worn paperback copy of The Fellowship of the Ring gifted to him by Wayne, and some clothes and odds and ends.

Years later, after he runs again and somehow lives to tell the tale, he returns to what still stands of the trailer with Wayne. Most of their belongings are either destroyed or damaged beyond repair but it doesn't matter to Eddie.

Home was never the trailer he ran to– just the family inside of it.

#eddiemonth #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #flight of icarus #myblurbs #eddie month prompts

284 notes · View notes

haunted-headset · 6 months

Note

Ok so hear me out

Wilbur and Y/n arguing.

Then y/n wanted to k!ll herself but..

Guess what Wilbur did...

He moved the knife away and kisses her...

💔 There’s a Reason London Puts Barriers on the Tube Line 💔

Summary: You & Wilbur have a massive argument & all of your su!c!dal thoughts came back, so you ran to Jubilee Line to do your deed. What you forgot is that Wilbur can track your phone.

A/N: Hello! Tysm for the ask! I changed the story up a bit so that the reader doesn't use a knife since knives kinda trigger me :/

word count: 796

proofread: nope

tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog@ax-y10@themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0 @cathers-world@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

warnings/cw: the reader has su!c!dal thoughts, two attempted su!c!des, mentions of an overdose, arguing/yelling, swearing

This was the worst argument you'd ever had with him in your three years of dating him, & it made your head hurt & your chest feel tight. You had attempted to kill yourself two days ago by overdosing on your anti-depressants.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Wilbur shouted. "Are you fucking stupid, Y/N?! You could've seriously hurt yourself!"

"That's the point!" You shouted back. "That's why I did it! & I already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you kept insisting!"

“That’s because I fucking care about you!” Wilbur yelled. His fists were balled & his eyes, like yours, were bloodshot.

"Well, did I ask for you to care about me?” you cried.

He let out a loud groan of anger & pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, I fucking hate you."

Your eyes widened in shock. He'd gotten angry at you before, of course, but he'd never said that he hated you before. "You don’t mean that," you murmured as more tears rolled down your damp cheeks.

"Right now, I do," he said icily. "More than anything in the world.”

You glared at him. "More than the I love yous?”

His eyes met yours & his expression softened slightly. “…You’re being unfair."

"How the hell am I being unfair?!" you exclaimed. "You're being the unfair & shitty one here! Instead of asking me if I'm alright, you just--you just get mad at me! & when I say I don't want to talk, you keep pressing & pressing & pressing!"

"It's not my fault nor my problem that you're a depressed bitch who doesn't do anything to try & improve their mental state!" he yelled.

With burning tears in your eyes, you started to tie your shoes. Wilbur sighed & said, "No, please don't leave, I-"

"Just shut up," you snapped before you walked out, slamming the door behind you. You started to walk through the rain to Jubilee Line, which would take about forty minutes. You stepped in a few puddles on your way, which drenched your shoes & legs, & you forgot to grab a hoodie, so your entire body was soaked in rainwater.

When you finally arrived, tears rolled down your cheeks & mixed with raindrops as you remembered the song that Wilbur had written a year or two ago. He was rambling on & on about how crappy the mental health was in London & how the city was doing nothing to help their citizens, & how he'd see people kill themselves on Jubilee Line & nobody would say anything or try to stop them, & instead of trying to help the people by improving their mental health services, the city just built barriers on the tube, & the barriers didn't really do anything. & you told him that he should write a song about that. Within an hour, he'd written a song about it, & for the majority of that hour, he would tell you how much he loved you & how creative you were.

You walked up to the barriers & saw that the next train was arriving in five minutes. You kicked with all of your might on the glass until the glass broke. You smiled sadly. The barriers, like Wilbur had said, were shit.

You took a deep breath & held back your tears. You took a step forward.

You were about to fall onto the tracks.

This was it.

It would finally work.

You heard a familiar voice scream your name from behind you.

& then somebody pulled you back & hugged you. It was a sobbing Wilbur.

"L-love, I don't ever want you to die, please...don't die..." he said between his sobs. "I-I'm sorry for yelling, I'm sorry for hurting you, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean a fucking word, I don't hate you, I never would, darling..."

You pressed your face into his chest & sobbed with him as you both murmured apologies to each other. He pulled you away from his chest only to pepper kisses all over your wet face.

"Please, don't go...I just need to feel your arms around me, mon amour, that's all I've ever wanted," he cried. "I don't want to lose you."

"I'm sorry," you whimpered. "I'm sorry for-"

He cut you off with a kiss. When he pulled away, he cupped your face & said, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. You're the one who's struggling & I didn't even think about that, & I was such a dickhead to you."

"So you don't hate me?" you said with a sniffle as he wiped your cheeks.

"I would never hate you," he whispered. "C'mon, let's go home. I think there's a lot that we need to talk about."

181 notes · View notes

rip-quizilla · 6 months

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench.

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.”

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities.

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?”

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.”

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along.

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?”

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected.

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands.

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.”

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck.

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness.

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more.

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs.

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face.

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.”

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?”

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans.

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid.

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man.

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

***

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip.

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on.

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk.

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting.

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip.

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message.

I’m serious.

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color.

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap.

I’m fine with it if you are.

Putting bats on my forearm.

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing.

I’m more than fine with it.

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you.

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear.

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other.

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them.

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?”

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom.

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission.

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this.

This looked like fear.

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide.

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously.

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce.

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?”

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor.

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand.

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand.

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle.

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.”

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off.

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.”

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you.

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal.

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved.

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low.

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?”

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.”

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway.

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing.

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall.

***

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar.

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism.

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it.

On Halloween, he could just be.

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer.

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license.

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie.

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set.

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout.

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable.

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you.

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him.

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life.

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy.

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second.

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you.

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?”

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.”

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart.

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?”

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction.

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it.

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking.

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap.

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.”

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles.

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine.

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.”

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?”

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room.

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be.

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing.

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled.

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out.

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.”

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.”

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.”

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis.

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped.

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like.

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now.

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel.

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message.

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins?

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on.

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze.

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie.

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire.

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again.

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine.

“Are you?” You heard him ask.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?”

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz.

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line.

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous.

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…”

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?”

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.”

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke.

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it.

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way.

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all.

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat.

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours.

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day.

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear.

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question.

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.”

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled.

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles.

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too.

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did?

Ah, fuck it.

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.”

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.”

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?”

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before.

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out.

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere.

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped.

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you.

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked.

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him.

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #impossible to hate you #ithy #friends to enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

173 notes · View notes

myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 6 months

Note

Lewd Request:

Hey I was wondering if you could do a lewd Striker x male reader, something along the lines of the festival and the main character made a bet with striker he'd beat him but they lose so Striker has his way with him. Love your stories.

A bets a bet

You weren't particularly fond of the new field hand.

Sure, the man was good at his work.

He could shoot, and hunt and ride with the best of them, but something was... off.

Nobody was that good and that proud.

Of course, you couldn't say much, he may boast like a snakeoil salesman but like you'd said, he was as capable as any worker you'd ever had, if not more so.

And while you tried to ignore the man, much to your annoyance, he seemed to take a special liking to you.

The man often 'helping' you with chores, or coming along if you had to head into town.

His favourite was teasing you.

It started with a few comments here and there, teasing if you screwed something up, or had some issue or other.

Then it became general teasing and prodding, the man loving to get a rise out of you.

Though you could often get him back, the man usually either impressed or annoyed with your come bqcks, leaving you alone for a while.

Although, after a night of drinking with some of your siblings and farmhands.

Hed be teasing you, yet again, making some snarky comment on how often you got your dick wet, and after a few too many drinks and a serious lapse in judgement, you made an off handed comment on how if he wasn't such a prick, you probably would have been all over him.

And you immediately regretted it, cause that man perked up like a Hellhorse spotting a prime-rib.

After that, Striker only became more persistent.

It was never quite forceful enough for you to get creeper out. But he was certainly persistent. The sheer number of times he'd bitten his lower lip, giving you those playful "fuck me" eyes, was more then enough to haunt your dreams.

And while he could be a total pain in the ass, he was also really useful, so you put up with it, simply rolling your eyes when he made a less then subtle comment to you.

And you totally weren't into him.

Sure he was swave and confident and Very capable, and could probably ride you like he did bombproof-

Nope! You didn't think like that. No matter haw many times.

Or think about his skills with rope.

Mind drifting off to that one time he'd managed to tie you up, man sitting on your back as he practically purred in your ear.

Nope! None of that!

But, past all the flirting, you had a formidable rivalry.

Of course you always played it off.

You didn't care if he won some stupid race or could shoot something, or won some wrestling match. What do you care, not like a single win meant anything.

Unless you won.

In which case you felt like King of the Ring, and was sure to rub it in his face.

Until you lost a match of shooting, that bastard hitting one more can then you.

It was quite the roller-coaster.

At least for humble farm life.

Having been bested one time too many, you snapped, demanding a rematch.

At that he grew a wicked grin across his tanned facad, telling you he'd agree, buuut, if he won, he wanted something.

Hesitant, you'd ask what he wanted, the man moving forwards, arm on either side of you, pinning you to a fence, telling you smugly.

"A Kiss."

You, Red faced, woukd agree, telling him it wouldn't matter cause you'd win.

And you Aaaaallllmmmoooossssttt did.

Almost being the key and only word.

Hitting the last can, but failing to knock it off.

So, Striker, all smirks, strutted up, expecting a kiss.

And so, you gave him one.

Kissing his cheek.

Striker, cocked a brow, you telling him smugly.

"You wanted a kiss. Never said where you wanted it."

You spoke casually, taking your small victory in stride.

Though unfortunately, you set a precedence with that little incident, as after this, any time you competed, Striker managed to slip a bet in there.

Though none were as bold as the first one.

Usually little things. Making you call him sir or having you follow him around for a day.

And while it they were fairly innocent, if annoying, things, there was always a heavy sexual undertone.

He never stopped chasing you, he just chose a more... passive, method.

But, after a particularly hot night, you snuck out, ending up out in a field half naked, relaxing against a fence, enjoying what little breeze there was.

Of course, Striker would appear, he too half naked, man shirtless with only his hat and Ascot, the two of you just standing there for a while, in a peaceful silence as the breeze blew across the field.

After a while he'd finally pipe up, asking if you were gonna compete in the harvest moon games.

You'd hum, telling him you probably would, before asking why.

Striker, in an odd moment of seriousness stood there, peering at you with those ringed yellow eyes, the same ones that had haunted far too many of your dreams.

The man, turning to you, would ask if you wanna make a bet on it.

You, swallowing, would nod, telling him. 'Sure.'

So, getting off his fence, he walked over and in a surprising display of boldness would pin you to the fence, voice low, shimmer of his tail ringing out.

He wanted you.

He was sick of the games, the little bets, your 'rivalry', he was going all in, he wanted you.

So, if he won, he wanted you.

Standing there, chest to chest, the man peering intently into your eye.

You, red faced, blood rushing to the one place you didn't need it, would stand there.

And well, call it a weak will or your will being chipped away after so many months, or perhaps a large part of you wanted this all along, you agreed, telling him yes, may the best man win.

To which Striker smirked, chest to naked chest, leaning in and breathing hot in your ear.

"Don't worry... I will~"

And so, the next few days zipped by in the blink of the eye.

You didn't see Striker much, and when you did he usually just smirked, eyeing you in a fashion that always left you red faced, pants suddenly tightening.

And so, the day finally arrived. You and the family loading into the truck and rolling into town, Striker riding Bombproof besides you, the man giving you an occasion glance, you pretending you hadn't been staring.

The town was lively, and all the townsfolk were a flurry of activity, preparing to either join or enjoy the games.

You prepared as well, limbering, stretching, just getting ready.

Striker however, just stood there, leaning against a fencing, man chewing on a wheat stalk. The man occasionally glancing back at you.

You didn't say anything to him, not willing to let him mess with your mind any more.

Eventually, you got to the games.

You excelled.

As did Striked.

Both of you far surpassing the regular saps that participated.

You were faster, but Striker was more nimble.

Not evenly matched, but you certainly pushed yourself.

You both put in your best show, and it was a close fight, you working harder then you'd ever worked before, really pushing yourself to your limit.

And after pulling, jumping, running and wrestling. You fought, and bit, there being more than a few fatalities from each of you.

It was a tie!

Nah, Striker won.

Some asshole had just miscounted your score.

Striker won.

And hearing that, you just stood there.

It took a minute to sink in, and while you realised just what happened, Striker seemed to relish the news, bathing in the crowds applause.

A flurry of emotion hit you, your head seemingly spinning. But the most concerning part of it all was you weren't... you weren't upset.

You were a little annoyed, angry even at losing, but that felt more like being upset at losing the games.

Not the bet.

Striker, surprising you, didn't come up and boast. Instead he joined the crowd of adoring fans, the lot of them all heading off to celebrate.

So, knowing the fate before you, you joined, snatching a comedically large jug with 4 large Xs on the side, drinking at your pleasure.

Eventually you'd end up in the town bar, sipping your drink, you and Striker staring at each other from across the bar.

You refused to make the first move, yet as the minutes ticked by, you became restless, constantly looking back at the man.

The cowboy simply standing there, peering at you with that seductive little smile, sipping his own drink, seemingly content in his position.

You eventually grew tired of the waiting, and shotgunning your drink, you stormed over to the snake.

Of course, he wore that Victorious smirk of his, standing there as you approached.

You scowled, storming up to him, stopping just before him.

The man smiled, popping an olive into his mouth, giving you a royal shit eating grin.

You snorted, simply standing there.

You told him bluntly to get on with it then!

Striker just smirked, looking you over, the fucking snake was relishing this.

After a few minutes, he asked what ever could you mean? And so, snapping at him that he was an Ass, you grabbed the man, dragging the him upstairs.

Striker just went along with it, smirking as he finshed his drink, discarding the bottle as he stumbled upstairs.

Reaching some bedroom, you didn't care who's it was, you dragged the man towards the bed.

But before you could throw him onto it, he suddenly whipped out of your grasp, the man slipping his neckerchief and seamlessly binding your hands with them, tying them behind your back before throwing you onto the bed.

The man, slipping his jacket off, working on his shirt as his tail slammed the door shut, his eyes the only thing visible, that and his golden tooth as he smirked a victors smirk.

You lay there, red faced, drunk and extremely aroused as the man climbed atop you, the clink of his belt being undone and the shimmer of his tail filling the air as he lean, the snake getting close, alcohol ladened breath on your neck as he growlwd out.

"Don't worry darlin', I'll make sure you enjoy this as much as I will~"

The man purring before he bit your neck, forcing a lewd moan from your lips.

•••

You awoke the next morning a mess.

You were sore.

You had more bite marks and hand shaped bruises on your ass then you cared to count.

Your hair was a total mess, clothes in tatters after being practically torn off you by the snake, and you were still recovering physically and mentally from everything that happened the night before.

You hissed as Bombproof bumped upwards, you clinging to Striker, the man being your only ride back to the homestead as your family had left the night before.

You didn't say anything, neither did Striker, though, the snake didn't need too.

The man simply wore a smirk, that smirk saying it all.

"I won."

And the annoying part, that was he was right.

Though even as you got home, hissing as you slid off the horse, gritting your teeth as you shambled back to the house. All the way there, able to feel the snake's gaze on your back.

And while you knew he'd be insufferable after this, likwly even more forward then ever the thing that really got to you, was knowing that there was no way this was gonna be the last time.

And even as you stumbled, collapsing atop your bed, body and rear sore, you wondered what came next with that smug sexy asshat of a snake man.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #striker x male reader #helluva boss striker x reader #striker x reader #top striker #striker #vague lewdness #overt lewdness #striker would destroy you #we need more male x reader smut

395 notes · View notes

lutawolf · 8 months

Text

My Personal Weatherman and the D/s element Ep 4

If you haven't read the others, they can be found here.

Ahhh, nothing gets me going like a sub wearing what their Dom picked out. That subtle ownership. Why yes, I do pick out all my husband's clothes except the dreaded work clothes. I refuse to take the blame for those tacky things.

Right off, we can easily see that this is not an M/s situation. The fact that Segasaki is asking Yoh what he wants to do, tells us exactly what we need to know. Yoh is explaining what he is going to do. That is not something a slave would ever even think to do. We can easily tell that he is a subby sub though, cause when Segasaki brings out the Dom, Yoh eases back.

OMG, that chin grab! @bl-bam-beyond pretty please gif that chin grab.

That chin grab with the "No." Ugh, how all my lovely subs doing? Are you still here? Have you been able to finish the show? Or are you stuck here on rewind?

Yoh actually questions Segasaki as to why not. Anybody still thinking Yoh a slave? Cause not to be rude, I can't fix stupid. This boy, a brat. Fuck, this whole scene is really showcasing their dynamic. "But we made a promise." "Tell her that you can't go anymore. Do it. Do you even know why you are in this house." And once again, we're back at the misunderstanding stage.

A fangirl, I see. OMG, this is adorable. Yoh is like, sure. Let's look at the tie of my Dom, bestie.

Yoh calling with Segasaki standing over him. This episode is killing me in the best possible way. Don't revive me! (No! I have not taken my ADHD meds, don't judge me!) "I was ordered to stay home." Hahahaha! Then the ahhhh, after he tells her that he will make it up to her. Letting you know he was likely just punished by Segasaki. Yes, my mind went here.

Then the reward of the head pat, "you did good."

youtube

She showed up to check on him! Woot! Haha, she is about to find out who is boyfriend is. Hahaha. I'm dying. Meanwhile, his boyfriend is like, "guess it's time for a face off." Ya'll I'm not okay. I'm laughing so hard.

And Yoho stepped over a line and got put in his place. But he is too busy having a crisis to care! 🤣🤣🤣 Her face is my favorite.

That effortless lie. He wasn't feeling well. Uh huh. I love these two dumbass friends. I need sake too!!! I'm dying. Shit, I can't breathe through the laughter.

Now it's Yoh's turn to be jealous. Ahh, he got drunk and fell asleep on the floor. The places we find comfortable when we are drunk.

Nope, he doesn't want to go to the bed. I love the outer dialogue we are getting. I really enjoy that we get Yoh's side of things and from his perspective, but this rounds it out a bit for me.

And look at that beautiful smile when Segasaki finds out she's married. "Are you in your rebellious phase." Does this sound familiar to certain people whom I will not mention by name!?! Hmmm! Brats! Stop breaking my heart! Make him stop Segasaki, make him stop!

Fuck, I love these two so much. Everything he is describing is very much a Brat Tamer. Bossy but gentle. Controlling but caring. Charming and unreasonable. Brat Tamer.

The way his squishes Yoh's face! Ahhh, these two are gonna kill me!

"It would be nice if you stayed drunk forever." Because of the honesty. Segasaki likes Yoh's quirks, but he also wants the honesty and the connection.

I need the curry story now! But apparently, I must wait. Heavy sigh.

Hope you guys enjoyed this! Let me know in the tags if you did. 💜💜💜 See you next time.

#my personal weatherman #taikan yoho #segasaki x yoh #luta talks my personal weatherman #luta talks kink #coconuts mafia #Youtube

229 notes · View notes

floralpascal · 8 months

Note

Hiii I love you work of Frankie <3 a request if you’re up for it, since I love your writing style and how you present him hehe

Something inspired by Billie’s Bossa Nova lines:

“You better lock your phone,

And look at me when we’re alone,

Won’t take a lot to get you going,

I’m sorry if it’s torture though,

I know I know”

Idk I see a shy Frankie and reader tilting his face towards her with her finger and whispering in his ear and sksksk go crazy please

You're an absolute genius for this idea! I love this song sooo much and my mind went wild with incorporating it into the story. I absolutely did not expect it to take this long or to write this much when I started. I also didn't expect this to turn into smut but here we are! I hope you like it!!

Bossa Nova

Summary: You and Frankie are both head-over-heels for each other... only neither of you realize the other is interested. When Santi sets you both up with mystery dates, you're both surprised to find that Santi has set you up with each other.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: kissing, fingering, protected p-in-v sex, creampie

You shouldn’t have told Santi about it. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. But how were you supposed to know that your vent session would lead to this?

The crux of the issue was that your dating life was beyond fruitless. Date after date, it always went the same. Either the spark wasn’t there, the conversation was as easy as pulling teeth, or the guy wouldn’t get off his damn phone long enough to genuinely interact with you. It had left you feeling more than a little frustrated. Had every good guy already been snatched up and now all you had to pick from were the leftovers?

Or was it you? Was it the fact that the only guy you wanted to go on a date with was Santi’s best friend? You had been introduced to Frankie at one of Santi’s infamous cookouts. The same night that Santi had accidentally burnt your hamburgers to a crisp, you had met the sweetest man in the world. He had been quiet back then, the conversation a bit awkward. But after multiple nights out with Frankie, Santi, and the Miller brothers, you had slowly gotten to know Frankie better. And damn it he was driving you insane. Despite how down bad you were for him, it never went anywhere.

Of course the one guy you wanted didn’t feel the same.

“There’s just no single guy out there who actually wants to talk,” you lamented to your friend, Santi, one day. You hadn’t meant to rant like this when you had invited him over for dinner so the two of you could catch up. But after he asked how your last date had gone, a quizzical eyebrow raised from across the kitchen table, you hadn’t been able to stop from telling him. You continued, “No one even seems to care to be on the date at all. It’s like they don’t have anything better to do, so going on a date with me is their next best option, you know?”

Santi — who had been listening to your rant sympathetically for about five minutes — suddenly scrunched his eyebrows before a scheming smile slowly spread across his lips.

You knew that look from a mile away.

“No, no, no!” You warned preemptively. “Whatever crazy idea you just had: no.”

“What if I said I knew a great guy who’s single and thoughtful and would be perfect for you?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Of course he would try to set you up. “Santi, no. I appreciate it but I’m done with the dating scene. I’ve embarrassed myself enough. I give up.”

He shook his head, that annoying grin still plastered to his face as he pointed his fork at you. “Nope, no quitter talk. I’m telling you, you’ll love this guy. I can’t believe I never realized how perfect you’d be for each other before now!”

“Santi-”

“Uh-uh. This is happening. You’re free on Friday, right? You’re going on a date with him. It’s a crime that you haven’t already.”

“What’s his name?” You asked. “You haven’t even said who it is.”

Santi shook his head again, saying, “That’s gonna be a surprise.”

You tried to explain that you were over the disappointment of dating and that going out with a mystery guy didn’t sound much more promising than any of your past dates. But it didn’t matter. Santi had set his mind on it.

“He’s been having bad luck on dates just like you have,” he explained as he whipped out his phone, presumably sending a text to the guy about this arrangement.

“Santi, seriously, I don’t know about this…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Usually when dates go bad, the one bright side is that I know I’ll never see the guy again. I don’t know him or anyone else that knows him, so there won’t be any fallout when things go bad. Won’t it be weird for us and you if things don’t go well?”

He shook his head with decisive confidence before clicking his phone off. “That’s the thing, it won’t go badly. I’m telling you, it’ll be the best date of your life. You’ve got to trust me on this. It’s gonna be great.”

You looked at the ceiling, mulling this all over as you tapped the edge of your empty plate. Almost completely fed up with the idea of dating, the last thing you wanted was another failed date. But Santi was dead-set on it and seemed to truly believe it was something that could work. And simply waiting for love to come your way was getting both boring and disheartening.

After considering everything for a moment, you asked, “He’s not going to be some murderous creep, right?”

Santi beamed, seemingly taking your question as confirmation that you were interested in the date. “Nah, you’ll love him. I trust him with my life.”

You raised an eyebrow. Santi wasn’t the kind of man who said that he trusted someone with his life unless he really meant it.

Bing!

Santi looked down at his phone before smiling up at you again. “He’s in. How does Friday at seven sound?”

“I said no.”

Santi had been on Frankie’s ass for days now. When Frankie had gotten that text from him a few days ago — You down for a date with a nice, cute friend of mine? — he hadn’t known the headache that would ensue when he turned the offer down. Santi refused to tell him who the date was with, asserting that he would love the mystery woman. Unsatisfied with Frankie’s rejection, Santi had hounded him every day since, even going so far as to show up at his house today out of the blue. Frankie had heaved a long-suffered sigh when he saw Santi’s red Jeep pull up his driveway.

“Come on, Fish,” Santi groaned, exasperatedly following Frankie around his dimly lit garage as he worked on his truck. “She’s pretty, she’s funny, she’s bold. I’m telling you, you’ll both hit it off.”

Frankie merely sighed as he sifted around his toolbox for a socket. He hadn’t had much luck in the dating department for years. Either the woman he was with didn’t seem to be that interested in him or it got too awkward as the conversation petered out. The best stories he had were Army stories, but those didn’t tend to go over well with dates. He was a man who was rough around the edges, simple, middle aged, and quieter than most. In short, he didn’t think he was much for anyone to get excited about anyways. He wasn’t the kind of guy that wowed someone on a blind date.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on the date, it was the fact that he wanted more than a date. He wanted something real. A love that gripped his soul, that left him spinning, that left him losing his bearings. Maybe he wasn’t a sentimental man, but he was a bit of a hopeless romantic at heart. He just didn’t think that any of that stuff was ever meant for him, and that made every failed date even more painful.

In reality, Frankie hated how he felt after every failed date. It tanked his self-esteem more than he cared to admit. He didn’t think he could take it again. It didn’t help that — when it came to dating — Frankie was on the shyer side. Though, maybe that had something to do with the whole self-esteem issue, too. At one point in his life, he had been much more confident in the dating area. However, after a few decades, a couple of failed serious relationships, and plenty of terrible dates, that confidence was quickly waning.

What made it worse was that the woman he really wanted was so unattainable it hurt. Every time he saw you at one of Santi’s cookouts or a night out at the bars, he felt that familiar pang in his chest. You were the opposite of Frankie, so confident and funny and gorgeous. Every time your hand brushed over his arm his heart almost gave out. Every time you smiled, he couldn’t look away. When you were in the room, you were the center of his attention, no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to anything else. The fact was that no other woman on any date had ever made him feel like you did. No other woman was ever you.

It was that thought that had caused him to tell Santi no. He was sure the mystery woman was pretty and funny and whatever else Santi said, but the fact of the matter was that she wasn’t you. It didn’t matter that you didn’t seem to be interested in Frankie like that, he had fallen for you all the same. And now he couldn’t seem to be interested in anyone else.

“What else do I have to say, man?” Santi questioned, practically pleading as Frankie finally closed his hand around the cool metal of the socket he had been looking for.

“Nothing,” Frankie responded, trying not to sound as down as he felt. “It’ll end just like all the others. I’m just not interested.”

He hated to let down his best friend, especially when he seemed so invested in this idea, but it was just too much for Frankie. After his last date, he had deleted all the dating apps from his phone and called it quits. He hadn’t told Santi this both because of how lame he would sound and because he knew that he would try to set him up exactly like this. Santi, being as extroverted as he was, knew a lot of women and once he started setting Frankie up, he wouldn’t stop until Frankie found someone.

What Santi didn’t understand was that he had already fucked up Frankie’s love life enough when he introduced him to you that first night on his back deck. From that moment on, Frankie hadn’t been interested in anyone else. Whoever had come up with the term falling in love had been right because meeting you had felt almost exactly like a helicopter going down in a tailspin. One second, all was fine. The next, he was hurtling toward the ground.

He couldn’t tell Santi that he was madly in love with you either. It would only make things even worse when Santi inevitably meddled. Frankie didn’t think he would survive embarrassment like that, especially when you were much too good for him. Like there was any way in hell you felt the same as he did.

“You’re both so goddamn stubborn,” Santi groaned to himself before taking a breath and pressing at his brow. Frankie slid underneath his truck again and started to work. For a moment, he actually thought he had won this dispute, Santi uncharacteristically quiet as he leaned against the old frame of the truck. But after a beat of silence, Santi sighed and called pointedly, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ve already told her you’ll meet her at seven tonight.”

Without thinking, Frankie leaned up and cried, “You what-?” before promptly smacking his head against the metal above him. He scooted out from under the truck, holding his head and cursing. When he found that he didn’t have any serious injury, he trained his fury on Santi again. “Dude? Seriously?”

Santi, who was holding back from laughing at Frankie’s outburst, simply put his hands up. “I knew you were gonna pull this shit, so I told her you’d already said yes.”

A barrage of questions ran through his mind. Why would you do that? Why didn’t you mention that at the start? How do I get out of this now? However the only question he was able to get out was, “What the fuck, man?”

“You’ve gotta trust me on this one, Fish! You can’t back out now.”

Frankie grumbled, “I never even agreed to be in this.”

Santi simply continued on, seemingly ignoring him at this point. “It’s at that one grill place on the West side of town that Benny likes. You still have that shirt you wore to Benny’s birthday dinner? Wear that one. It’s not too formal but it looks good.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. But when this goes sideways, it’s on you.”

“When this goes perfectly,” Santi countered, “you better make me best man at the wedding.”

Frankie didn’t know how to tell him that he’d be lucky to even make it through the date, let alone get to anything resembling a relationship.

“You’re really gonna do it?” Santi asked skeptically. “You’re not lying?”

Frankie sighed as he defeatedly tossed his socket back into the open toolbox, letting it loudly clang against the contents of the box. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in this situation. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Santi beamed before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna thank me for this tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Frankie replied, sarcasm dripping from the word. If anything, he thought he would be embarrassed beyond belief tomorrow after Santi would inevitably ask how it went.

Fuck. Frankie didn’t think he had it in him to go through all the disappointment again. Much less to have his best friend see it.

As Santi went to leave, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, and she’s not scared away by Army stories either. I’ve already told her plenty.”

Frankie’s stomach sank. “You didn’t tell her about the time I was drunk in Texas, did you?”

Santi only gave him an evil smile as he continued to back away, shrugging. “She thought it was funny.”

Later that night, Frankie sat at a table at Nino’s Bar & Grill, clad in the blue button-down Santi insisted he wear as he anxiously waited for his mystery date to arrive. In the hours since Santi had first roped him into this date, the man had never stopped texting him about her, all the while keeping her identity a secret. His insistence that this would be the best date ever had Frankie somewhat dreading the ultimate letdown that was coming.

Hell, she was already ten minutes late. Maybe, he thought, she had already spared him from the date by standing him up. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst end to a date that he’d ever had.

Suddenly, a text came through from Santi. Frankie stared at it, reading it again and again but it was just as confusing every time.

Did you seriously think I hadn’t noticed the way you look at her?

After a second, he sent back a simple: What??

He sighed as he looked at his watch again. Maybe he should just go home, crack open a beer, and get back to work on his truck. It didn’t seem like-

“Frankie?”

His attention snapped up from the tabletop to find a gorgeous woman standing above him, the sunset shining through the windows behind her like a colorful halo. She stared at him questioningly, almost in awe.

You. It was you.

He had never thought that those scenes in movies where a guy was tongue-tied seeing a woman was actually something that could happen until his mind was blank and mouth ajar.

Finally, he said your name, practically dumbstruck. “W-what are you doing here?”

You simply laughed sweetly — a beautiful, almost heart-stopping sound. “I, um… I think I may be here for the same reason you are.”

All at once, the reality of everything hit him. Santi. His insistence about this date. The text. Santi knew. He had set this whole thing up because he had known this whole time how Frankie felt about you.

Suddenly, all of Santi’s glowing descriptions of you clicked into place, all of them true and none of them doing you justice. Now, Santi saying that you were pretty felt like a hell of an understatement. He knew that, somewhere, that smug son of a bitch was incredibly proud of himself. Not that Frankie could quite blame him right now.

“Did you know?” Frankie asked, rising from his seat to stand in front of you.

You shook your head. “No. It seems like we were both in the dark here. But… I’m definitely not upset about it now.”

It was at this last part that your eyes met his again, hopeful and searching.

And just like that, in a mere twenty seconds, his whole world tipped on its head. The force of it would have knocked him clean off his feet if he let it — and he nearly did. If he hadn’t already been sure that he was indeed awake, he wouldn’t have quite believed it was really happening. It hit his system like a drug, the new wave of adrenaline filling his head with static. This static wasn’t the absence of thought — not anymore. No, now his head was filled with way too many all at once, each fighting to be heard until there was nothing but chaotic noise.

Then, over it all came a clear fact: you felt the same. Tonight was the chance he never thought he would have. Suddenly, his whole outlook on this date was changed.

“Me, too.” With a small burst of confidence, he admitted, “I… there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to have this with.”

The smile that bloomed on your face was as blinding as the beautiful sunset behind you.

Frankie guided you to your seat, pulling it out for you. Before you sat, you grazed your soft hand across his forearm as you thanked him, the touch sweet and electric.

Remember to fucking breathe, Frankie told himself.

As he made his way back to his seat, you spoke again, “I’m so, so sorry I was late! Traffic was terrible.”

Frankie — who was sure you were worth waiting for — assured you that it was no problem.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different. You were different from anyone he had ever been on a date with. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was that made you feel so… special.

“So,” he started, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt, “can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded with a smile, giving him a knowing look. “I know you’re a beer man. How about an order for two?”

Goddamn. For the first time in a long time, Frankie felt himself getting his hopes up.

You didn’t think you would ever be able to forgive Santi for this. You had known him for three years and he hadn’t set you up with Frankie like this sooner. All those terrible dates could have been avoided if Santi had just meddled in both of your love lives from the start.

Frankie was ridiculously handsome, endlessly sweet, and not nearly as quiet as he tended to be at Santi’s get-togethers. He had an easy sort of humor, one that was simple yet had you laughing seemingly without even trying. While you had both always just clicked, talking with him tonight made it feel as if you had known each other forever. You were only three hours in and this was already the best date of your life.

The fact that you thought the words only three hours into the date blew your mind. For a long time now, a three hour long date usually had you wishing for the quickest way out. You couldn’t wait to leave the train wreck that it usually was. Now? Three hours didn’t feel like nearly enough. You felt like you were just barely scratching the surface of Frankie, his life, his past. You loved every second you had with him in a way you never thought possible.

You had both quickly fallen into an easy rhythm with each other, all polite questions and light humor. While he was incredibly nice, you never felt as if he was putting on a persona. He was genuine, a trait that was both refreshing and intriguing. With Frankie, what you see is what you get, Santi had once told you. He had been telling the truth. And, damn, you liked what you saw.

Over the hours, your conversation shifted, turning from testing questions into old stories. Frankie, as you already knew, was a great storyteller. Not only was he giving you some seriously embarrassing stories of Santi that had you rolling, he had pictures to back his stories up. For the first time, you were happy to see your date whip out his phone. The pictures were from decades ago and the young, beardless Frankie that looked back from those photos made you smile. He had aged, you mused as you studied his face beside you, like a fine wine. Older and more rugged, but all the more attractive for it.

You slowly slid your chair around to get a better view of his phone inch by inch until you were sat next to him, your thighs touching each other. As he showed you a particularly tame picture of his friends from the army — Santi and the Miller brothers ever present — you could see by the pink that suddenly dusted his cheeks that he was aware of your thigh against his, too. While he didn’t say anything about it, you noticed the way he leaned against you ever so slightly.

He flicked to another photo, one that immediately caught your attention.

“Frankie,” you mused, “You’re so handsome!”

The photo he had flipped to was obviously a more recent one. He stood next to Will, both of them clad in disheveled white button-ups, ties undone around their collars, as they smiled at the camera. An out-of-place weathered ball cap sat on top of Frankie’s head, his curls poking out the bottom. His favorite Standard Oil hat. While out of place, it was fitting for him — a piece that blatantly showed something uniquely him. The final thing that drew your eye, however, was the several undone buttons that led down his front, exposing the tanned plane of his chest.

“Oh. I didn’t- I forgot that was-” he stuttered for a moment. He let out a nervous chuckle before explaining, “This was Will’s wedding. After the wedding, as you can see.”

You smiled. It was endearing the way he had been thrown off guard by this.

“You look ridiculously handsome,” you reiterated, looking at him pointedly.

Frankie flushed under the compliment again, his breathing noticeably picking up. “I- uh- thanks. I had the shirt tailored. And the pants-”

You giggled a bit, drawing his attention to you. Leaning close to his ear, you took a risk as you sweetly whispered, “The suit was nice, but I was talking about you. And the second compliment? I meant that you look ridiculously handsome tonight, too.”

Stunned, he simply held your gaze for a moment, plush pink lips slightly parted as you pulled back to look at him. He looked down at his hands as he mumbled a thank you, a bewildered smile on his lips. Obviously, he wasn’t used to such compliments.

Taking another risk, you brought the tip of your finger to the underside of his chin. Coarse hair tickled your skin as you brought his wide gaze up to yours.

“I mean it,” you assured, your finger dropping so that you could lay it on his shoulder.

“And I mean it when I say you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He said it breathlessly, your small gestures seemingly overwhelming his ability to breathe. His eyes were on you, wide and bare. “I thought so the day I met you.”

He feels it, too.

The world was still for a moment, the very air suspended between the two of you. The rest of the restaurant had fallen away, leaving only you and Frankie and the few inches between your lips.

All at once, Frankie locked his phone, abandoned it on the table, brought his hand to your cheek, and kissed you hard.

The world tipped.

Kissing Frankie felt like the drop of a rollercoaster, curling up next to the endless warmth of a fire, the joy of visiting an unknown city. All at once.

The force of it all stole the air from your lungs but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. The rush and hum in your veins wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was the movement of his plush lips against yours as your fingers wound into his curls.

It wasn’t a kiss fit for a first date. Yet, somehow, it felt right. Frankie felt right.

Frankie was the first to break, seemingly as breathless as you were. As your hooded eyes fluttered up to meet his, you found him to be as surprised as you were. He looked at you with a hungry sort of wonder before he blinked, a bit of self-consciousness falling across his features. You hadn’t noticed that he had lost that self-consciousness until it was already taking hold again — and if that was what he was like when it was gone, you wanted to see what he was like when he fully let go.

“S-sorry,” he stammered breathily. “I know that was probably too fast.”

You shook your head earnestly, not wanting to allow that self-consciousness of his to take over again. “Not fast enough.”

Hope flashed in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Do you wanna… get out of here?”

You saw Frankie’s eyes go wide and — for a second — thought you had pushed a little too far. But then he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket as he answered definitively, “I’d love that.”

Now, you could see that same fire that you felt behind his eyes. A fire that filled you with a ridiculous amount of excitement.

He settled the check before you could even offer to pay, but now you were a little more than distracted as butterflies bloomed in your stomach for the first time in a long time.

This wasn’t like you. None of this was like you. You didn’t kiss guys on the first date, much less ask them to bed. Granted, most dates had you running for the door before anything like that could happen, but still. The sentiment stood.

Everything about Frankie was different, though. And the only thing you could really think about right now was having that man under you before the night ended.

When Frankie exited the restaurant with your hand in his, the tension between you two felt like a live wire and his heart was thundering in his chest.

In a quick moment of planning in the parking lot, he found out that the roommate you had mentioned earlier was currently at your place. His place was over a forty minute drive from this restaurant on the other side of the city. While it was doable, it seemed like a lot for how… urgently he needed you.

Just as he was starting to lose hope, your eyes flicked to the side. He watched as you playfully bit your lip, a flash of hope in your eyes. He followed your gaze across the street to see one of the many hotels in the city that he barely paid any mind to.

So that was how he found himself with a key to room 103, your hand in his as he led you through the lobby.

It was all a rushed blur — finding the door, turning the feeble lock on the inside, pressing you against the wall of the small room, your sweet little moans against his mouth. You were all there was.

As much as he had loved your outfit, he liked the sight even more now that you were stripped of it all.

All of his senses were underwater, the world moving too fast for him to keep up. He hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. He hadn’t wanted to feel like this in a long time. But now, with your fingers twisted into his hair and your body beneath him on the plush mattress, he finally let himself go.

Years ago, Frankie had once been caught in a riptide of the ocean. Having grown up merely a few hours away from the beach, he had known that the current couldn’t be fought. It was too strong, a force of nature one couldn’t hope to go against. It felt a hell of a lot like this. Like you. You had caught him as unsuspecting as the current had that day. Only this time, he didn’t want to get out. He didn’t swim parallel to shore until he could escape your gasp, he only let you drag him out to the depths of an unfamiliar sea.

Frankie’s lips were everywhere. Your lips, your neck, your chest. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you.

“Frankie,” you whined, voice so breathy you barely recognized it yourself. “Frankie, I need you. I need you right now.”

The warmth of his hand slid up to palm at your breast, his mouth finding yours again.

“You’ve got me,” he assured you, voice deliciously deep and raspy. “I’m yours.”

You would’ve paid more mind to this last part if his free hand hadn’t been sliding down your stomach to your pussy. A gasp escaped you as he toyed with your clit for a moment, rubbing slow circles.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it,” he mumbled. “You’re so wet already. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

As he leaned down to kiss your neck, you felt him slip a finger into your heat. You grabbed at his back, at his hair, lost in the feeling of him as you clung to him like a lifeline. It was slow at first, testing before he began to build up to a steady pace. Already, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more.

When you bucked your hips looking for more friction, Frankie said, “I know, I know. You’re just so tight, baby. Gotta work you up.”

Much to your dismay, he pulled his finger out for a moment. Bringing his attention back to your clit, he stopped your protest dead in your throat. Then, he slipped two fingers back into you, resuming his pace from before.

He pushed himself up a little, looking first at your face and then down where you took his fingers with lust-blown eyes. Frankie was still in his boxers, but you could see the prominent outline of his hard cock straining against the black fabric.

“Fuck,” he mused, before slipping a third finger into you. You moaned out his name as the familiar coil began to build in your stomach.

“Frankie…Frankie — fuck, baby — I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-”

Suddenly, the air was stolen from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you. You clenched around Frankie’s fingers, but he kept going, praising you all the while.

“That’s it. That’s it, hermosa. Ride it out.”

Your orgasm lasted a lifetime, Frankie drawing it out of you for a length of time you hadn’t thought possible. Wave after blissful wave.

When you came down, panting and head spinning, you found Frankie popping his fingers in his mouth, eyes closed and moaning a little as he did.

“You even taste sweet,” he mused.

You giggled, pulling him down to kiss you again. After a moment, you pulled away enough to whisper against his lips, “Need these off, Frankie.”

You lightly tugged at the band of his boxers, giving him a hint.

Frankie threw himself backwards, rushing to push the fabric down his legs and discard it to the floor in whatever direction it decided to go.

Oh. Oh, wow.

To say that Frankie was impressive seemed like an understatement. Already flushed and leaking, his cock was both long and thick.

For the first time in your life, you found yourself saying, “I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

You saw Frankie’s mouth twitch up for a moment. “Now you’re just stroking my ego.”

You pushed yourself up to your knees, scooting over top of Frankie so that you straddled him. In the midst of it, lust replaced the humor on his face. His hands found your waist as you used a hand on his chest to coax him to lay back on the mattress.

“I’ll do a little more than just stroke it,” you promised.

“Fuck,” Frankie breathed, almost to himself. Bringing your hand to his cock, you teased him with a few testing pumps. He tipped his head back against the bed, groaning as you ghosted the tip of your thumb over the head. With a deep baritone, he pleaded, “God, baby, please.”

How could you deny that? You couldn’t even hold yourself back anymore.

You guided him to your entrance before slowly lowering to take him. It was a stretch, one that felt overwhelming and all too good at the same time. Frankie’s hands found your hips, a string of encouraging praises falling from his lips as he watched you take every inch of him with laser-like focus.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, disheveled and wrecked as he looked up at you. “I knew you could take all of me. Goddamn, you feel so good.”

You felt so unbelievably full. Suddenly, the ability to speak had been stolen from you, replaced with the simple need for friction.

You rocked your hips, earning a hiss from Frankie as his fingertips gripped your hips for dear life. Slowly, you built your pace as you rode him. He was so deep, you never knew it could feel like this. Soon enough, you had a good pace.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The rhythmic noise was in the background at first, lost to the sound of your and Frankie’s moans and grunts. But then you realized how close it was.

Frankie read the confusion on your face immediately. “The bed,” he explained, panting. “The shitty bed’s hitting the wall.”

Oh. It was obvious now, but your brain was underwater, your only concern being the unbelievable man beneath you. But there was a small part of your brain somewhere in the haze that was still rational that knew the last thing you needed right now was hotel management knocking on your door after a complaint.

“Floor,” Frankie offered, seemingly on the same page. “It’ll be easier on the floor.”

After a brief moment to relocate, you were once again on top of Frankie, your knees against the cheap, rough carpet as you rode him without abandon. He was lost in it, switching between letting his eyes roll back and needing to watch you. To praise you.

“Fuck, yes, baby. This pussy’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.” He was babbling, but you loved it. A sense of urgency, of longing lurked in his tone.

You panted and cursed, so close to the edge but not quite able to get there. “Frankie. Baby, I need more.”

Frankie’s eyes snapped up to your face, a new sort of darkness to his eyes. His hand came to your back to brace you against him before he flipped you both, your back meeting the carpet. Now, he loomed over you as he kissed you deeply. Right as he pulled his lips away from yours, he gave a sharp, hard thrust into you. You cried out, scrambling to scratch at his back in an attempt to find purchase. Again and again, he drove into you, making a devastating pace.

His pants fanned across your lips, seemingly lost in the feeling of you. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s it. Fuck… baby — fuck — I’m close. Need you to come. Come for me, cariño.”

If you had the ability to speak anymore, you would’ve told him that you were right there, teetering on the edge.

With a few more thrusts, you toppled over. The sounds you made were obscene as ecstasy took over.

“Where do you want it, baby?” Frankie rasped desperately. “I need you… I need you to tell me.”

“Inside,” you gasped.

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” Frankie cooed in your ear. “Ah. So fuckin’ tight. Squeezin’ me so good. I’m- I’m gon-”

He didn’t finish his sentence before he was driving himself deep and releasing into you. His mouth fell open as he rode it out, grinding into you.

When he was completely spent, he let himself sag down a little above you, his head dropping as he tried to catch his breath. Every moment or so, he would let out a beautiful little ah sound, especially as he pulled out of you.

For the second time that night, you brought your pointer finger underneath his chin and slowly guided him to look at you. You caught the enamored look in his eyes a moment before you leaned up to kiss him. Slowly, meaningfully.

Against his lips, you said, “God, Frankie, if I would’ve known that you liked me, too… or that we could’ve been doing this all this time…”

Frankie gave an incredulous laugh, pulling back to look at you. “Like you? I’ve been crazy about you since the day we met.”

You laughed, looking at the ceiling for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Me, too! I hadn’t been able to stop staring at you the entire cookout that day.”

“I wanted to ask you out then,” he admitted, his brown eyes earnest. “And every time we saw each other afterwards. I always talked myself out of it.”

“I would’ve said yes,” you assured.

Frankie ran a thumb over your cheek. “Think it’s too soon to ask you on a second date?”

You giggled against him, feeling his body shake against yours as he laughed, too. “Not soon enough. How does Wednesday night sound?”

“Perfect. I hope it’s not too crude to say that I hope it ends a lot like tonight did.”

You patted his tanned chest, giving him a knowing smile. “Let’s pick a restaurant closer to your place, then.”

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier fanfiction #santi garcia #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #my writing

230 notes · View notes