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sanguineterrain · 2 years

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Adore You - s.h | e.m.

Summary: When you and Eddie learn that Steve has never celebrated his birthday—and had no intention of letting you know he even had a birthday—you two make it your mission to give him the best birthday ever. Secret parties, however, aren’t always easy to keep secret.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mild angst, misunderstandings, Steve's crappy parents, birthday fluff, happy ending!!

dividers by s-tarksintern

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"Yo, Buckley!"

The door jingled, alerting your entrance. Eddie held up a pair of customized Converse by the laces. Robin's eyes lit up.

"Holy shit!" she squealed, walking around the counter. "You’re a dream, Munson.”

"Flatterer," Eddie grinned, tossing her the shoes. "No charge."

She inspected the designs, all carefully hand-painted by Eddie. "Dude, you're awesome. Y/N, tell your boyfriend he's awesome."

"I remind him of that fact everyday," you grinned, pecking Eddie's jaw. "He knows."

"I know," Eddie smirked.

"Well, unfortunately, your other boyfriend sucks," she informed you. "He's been moping all week. And he left me to stack the new releases by myself!"

You frowned. "That doesn't sound like him. Where is he?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "I made him go pick up the tapes Keith ordered. Hopefully he eats something—that’s probably why he’s so cranky.”

"Aw, damn. We were gonna get his measurements to start his jean jacket," said Eddie. ”Don’t tell ‘im, though. It’s a secret.”

"Eds wanted to match," you explained. "Because he's a dork."

"You said it was a good idea, baby," he pouted.

"Both things can be true. It's very cute, honey," you assured. "He'll love it."

"Custom jacket is a great gift," Robin agreed, already lacing up her new shoes. "That's probably the one thing Steve's never gotten for his birthday."

You and Eddie both went still.

"Birthday?" he echoed.

"Yeah, it's next Sunday, remember? I made him look up his astrology chart and y'know what? A lot of it makes sense." She twirled her finger over her temple in a crazy sign. "Good luck."

"Wait, back up." You held up a hand. "Steve's birthday is next week?"

"Uh, yeah? Don't you know his birthday?"

"He never said anything." Eddie's face scrunched. "What the hell?"

"How do you know it, Robs?" you asked.

"I learned it by accident when Steve filled out his job application. You really didn't know? You guys have been dating for a while."

"We figured it had passed." You frowned. "He was just gonna let it come and go without ever telling us."

"Hang on. Maybe he doesn't know you usually tell serious relationships your birthday," Eddie reasoned. "This is the longest relationship he's had."

You thought for a moment, then rapped your knuckles on the counter.

"Actually, we're gonna take off.”

Eddie’s head swiveled to you. “What?”

“We have things to discuss.” You gave him a look, then turned to Robin. “Can you tell Steve we'll meet him at home?"

"You got it," Robin said, giving a two-finger salute. "Godspeed. And please pull that stick out of his ass!"

“Buckley wouldn’t lie about Steve’s birthday, would she?”

“No,” you said, watching the butter melt in Mrs. Harrington’s luxury cast-iron pan. “Definitely not.”

You and Eddie had gotten a copy of the Harringtons' house keys before you'd become something more. After an incident involving dead power lines and Eddie breaking into a window to make sure Steve wasn't bleeding or possessed, Steve had gone ahead and given you keys. He'd said he trusted you with his life—and that Eddie was to never break in again.

"'Kay, we have to approach this tactfully, sweetheart. How 'bout this: I'll bring up my own birthday first. Then it'll be a natural turn into a conversation about his."

"Or," you said, flipping the grilled cheese onto a plate. "We use a tried and true method that boyfriends and girlfriends have used for thousands of years: food and sweet lovin'."

Eddie turned on the puppy eyes. "Do I get one? I'll tell you my birthday too, baby."

"I already know your birthday, big guy," you snorted, setting down another sandwich in front of him.

He pumped his fist. "Another victorious win."

You dusted your hands and leaned on the kitchen island.

"We can't pressure him. That'll only make him retreat,” you mused. “I just hope he doesn't not trust us or anything."

"Nah," Eddie assured around a mouthful of sandwich. "Maybe he's just not a birthday kinda guy."

The 733i pulled into the driveway, engine shortly cutting out. Then you heard Steve's footsteps up to the door and the key turning in the lock.

"Honey, you're home!" Eddie called gleefully.

Steve looked up, startled, then relaxed when he realized it was you two.

"Oh, hey. Robin said you came by. Sorry I missed you—Keith put me on this stupid delivery thing."

"No prob," Eddie said, rising and wiping his hands on his jeans. "We'd much rather have your undivided attention, hot stuff."

Before Steve could remove his uniform, Eddie pulled him into a deep kiss, hands sliding into the seat pockets of Steve's jeans. Steve stumbled from the intensity, clinging to Eddie's shoulders. He melted instantly. Eddie cupped the back of Steve's neck, coaxing out a whine.

"Eds," you groaned. “Come on.”

Steve, puffy-lipped and dazed, watched you with wide eyes as Eddie kept him near.

"What? Too much?"

"At least let him sit down before you suck face," you chided, pulling out a chair.

"Was just doing the sweet lovin' bit," Eddie mumbled.

Steve eagerly turned to you, clearly hoping for a match in affection. You gave in a little, since he'd had a bad day, but it was important to save the main goods for the interrogation.

"Eat," you ordered after pressing a few quick kisses to his lips. "Robin said you missed lunch."

"Snitch," he sighed, picking up the sandwich. "Wasn't that big of a deal."

"You already don't eat breakfast as often as you should. Do I need to come down here and force feed you pancakes every morning?"

"Well." Steve swallowed. "Not gonna say no."

“You are so lucky you’re cute.”

“How ‘bout me, baby?” Eddie beamed. “Am I cute too?”

“Oh, the cutest,” you cooed, pulling him down by his leather jacket collar and nipping playfully at his lips.

“Tease,” he complained.

“We’ll get there.”

Soon, Steve was down to the crusts of his sandwich. You propped yourself on your elbows, smiling sweetly.

“Want another? Or I can make you something else?”

Steve blinked, toast crumbs on his mouth. “I’m okay, baby. Thank you.”

Phase two. Eddie leapt up to herd Steve over to the couch under the guise of “helping” him take off his uniform. After washing and putting the plate back in the cupboard, you joined them, taking Steve’s other side. The TV was on, turned down low. Eddie gently finger-combed through the slight tangles in Steve’s hair. His lids had started to droop. You pressed a kiss behind Steve’s ear, cupping his chin. Then you traced the freckles on his collarbone, just resting your lips on him. He leaned into your touch.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” you asked mildly, not breaking your movements.

“Hmm? Yeah, everything’s fine,” Steve answered drowsily.

“Work’s okay?”

“Work’s fine. Jus’ today was a pain.”

“Buckley mentioned you haven’t been feeling your best,” Eddie said.

“Oh. Um, I dunno. I'm fine, really."

You glanced at Eddie, who nodded. Steve's hand was on your hip; not wanting anything, just feeling you.

"We heard it's your birthday soon."

The hand stiffened. You remained wrapped around Steve, wanting to keep the atmosphere light.

"Yeah," Steve admitted. "It is."

You kissed his cheek. “Did you wanna do anything for it?”

Steve shrugged shyly. “We don’t have to.”

“We want to,” Eddie said. “If you want to.”

Steve sat up, not looking at either of you. Meticulously, he cracked his knuckles, shoulders tense.

“‘S just, I never really celebrated my birthday. My… my dad said it was stupid to put so much on a day that comes every year. Said I didn't deserve it, most years. But he always wanted a gift for his birthday.”

You and Eddie stayed quiet, waiting for Steve to finish. He moved from his knuckles to a healing cut on his thumb, picking at it.

“I don’t think Tommy H even knew when my birthday was.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a choke. “I guess he wasn’t really a birthday guy either. He took Carol to the lake for her birthday, I remember.”

“We can go someplace for your birthday,” offered Eddie. “Take my van. I’ll even let ya sit up front, since you’d be the birthday boy and all.”

“No, no,” Steve scoffed. “Oh my God, no, that’d be dumb. Not–not that going someplace with you guys is dumb, just that making a big deal about it now would be dumb. I don’t want you guys to have to plan around my birthday.”

You put your hand on Steve’s before he tore his cuticle picking the cut. He looked at you and tried for a smile.

“Plus I didn’t give you a heads up or anything," he continued. "It’d be pretty much impossible to do something now.”

“That’s not—”

“Okay,” you cut Eddie off. “Okay, Steve. If you don’t want to do anything, we won’t. We were just wondering is all.”

He nodded, sucking on his lower lip. Eddie shot you a look behind Steve’s back. You held up a hand, shaking your head.

"Cool. Yeah, it’d just be too much work anyway. I get it. I’m gonna, um, shower. We can watch a movie…?”

You kissed Steve’s lips with a smile. “Think it’s Eddie’s turn to pick.”

He groaned. “Okay, but not Star Wars again. I can recite practically every line at this point.”

“A New Hope is peak cinema,” Eddie informed him. “But whatever. I suppose I can scrounge up something else.”

He waited until Steve disappeared down the hall before pouncing on you.

“What was that, baby?” he whined. “Pretty sure you made his hair deflate.”

“We’re going to give Steve a birthday he’ll never forget. And it couldn’t be a surprise if I told him, could it?”

Eddie’s lips spread into a slow grin. “Was this your plan all along?”

“I had to make sure Steve didn’t genuinely want a party,” you explained. “But I think it’s pretty clear he does. He’s just guilty about it.”

“That was some messed up shit his dad pulled,” Eddie sighed.

Steve didn’t like talking about his family much. They were usually away, including this month. You and Eddie slept over when they were gone—Steve hated being alone in his house.

The shower turned on. You leaned into Eddie, arms around his neck.

“So whaddya say, Eds? Ready to throw our boyfriend the best surprise party ever?”

“I’m following your lead, baby,” he said, bowing to meet your lips. “Let’s do it.”

This was not a good idea.

“Steve said not to break into his house again, Eds. That’s, like, his only rule.”

“This isn’t breaking in! We have keys. Besides, how can we keep this a surprise if we barge in like we own the place?”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just ask him his size.”

Eddie slid open the top dresser drawer. He rifled through socks for a moment, then moved on.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a man for his measurements?” he grinned. “And you need the pictures for the video.”

“Well, hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You heard the front door open. Eddie froze.

“Shit,” you hissed. “Shit, shit.”

“I thought he wasn’t gonna be back till four. What do we do?” Eddie hissed.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you whispered. “I’ll distract him. Work fast.”

You hurried out to the hall, quietly shutting Steve’s bedroom door behind you. Steve was poking around in the fridge. Maybe you could hide? The drapes were long enough, right? Or behind the TV…

“Holy fuck!”

The bottles on the fridge door rattled as Steve flinched upon seeing you. He slammed the door too hard.

“Y/N, Jesus Christ. What are you doing here? I thought you were busy today.”

Steve had wanted to hang out today. You’d made up an excuse about housework. Eddie had faked pneumonia.

“H-hey, Steve. I was—I am busy. But, um… I needed a pan! A frying pan. Mine broke.”

He tilted his head. “You came to my house to steal a pan?”

“Yep. I reeeally need to fry stuff. Plus your mom buys the best cookware.”

“Uh… okay. Well, since you’re here, did you wanna do something? Eddie’s sick so I was thinking we could get lunch and bring it to him.”

You winced. Why did he have to be so sweet?

“I can’t. Any other day I would but I–I shouldn’t even be here, really. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Oh.” Steve nodded. You could tell he was trying not to look too dejected. Fuck.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“No, hey, you have things to do. I don’t expect you to drop it all for me.”

God, those big eyes were brutal. But you had to stick it out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve asked, half smiling. “Try not to break my mom’s kitchen.”

He started to walk toward the hall. You raced to block him.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

Steve squinted. “I’m going to my room?”

“Your room?” you said loudly. “Steve is going to his room.”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay? Eddie said he has pneumonia. You didn’t catch anything, did you?”

“I feel fine, Steve. Are you sure you wanna go to your room?”

“Considering my clothes are in there, ideally, yes.”

“Cosmopolitan says changing in different rooms can be empowering.”

“Y/N,” he sighed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! What if your room is haunted?”

“What?”

You took Steve by his wrists and dragged him back to the island.

“Maybe you can try changing in the kitchen,” you shouted at the bedroom.

“Honey, you’re kinda freaking me out.”

“I–”

Eddie peeked around the corner, waving. He gave you a thumbs up. You jumped, causing Steve to look truly concerned.

“I,” you began. “Love you! Stevie, baby, I love you. You’re a dream. Keep it tight.”

“Huh?”

You kissed his cheek and backed towards the front door.

“Gotta go!”

“What about your pan?” he called.

“Eggs are overrated!” you rushed out, closing the door.

You bolted down the block where Eddie had parked, cutting through a neighbor’s lawn. Eddie was already in the van, engine running.

“You’d better have gotten those pictures,” you panted. “I ran.”

“Your efforts were not in vain, baby. Great vamping, by the way. You lost me with the haunted room, though.”

“Please drive. I can’t believe there isn’t a single brain cell among the three of us.”

“There is,” Eddie said. “‘S just Steve has it this week.”

“Call Dustin. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Does anybody have any questions?”

“I have a question,” said Max, raising her hand. “Who the hell is that?”

“This is Spider,” Eddie introduced. “He’s the one letting me borrow his projector and screen for the party.”

“Whassup, dawg?” Spider nodded, piercings glinting as he did so.

“You have a projector guy?” asked Robin.

“I know people,” Eddie defended. “I met Spider at one of my performances.”

“This dude shreds on guitar,” Spider said, then turned to you. “You’re a very lucky woman. I wish you all a lifetime of happiness.”

“Thanks, Spider.” You smiled awkwardly. “Okay, aside from Eddie's friend, any other questions?”

“How long am I keeping Steve occupied?” Robin asked.

“At least until eight. If you need an excuse, I can—”

“No, no,” she grinned, looking too pleased. “I’ll figure something out.”

“O…kay. Dustin, you know what you’re doing?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving a thumbs up. “And here’s the tape.”

He handed you the video. You took it eagerly.

“Awesome. Now look: ultimately this is to give Steve a great birthday. So let’s focus on that, okay?”

“This is really cool what you’re doing, Y/N,” Lucas decided.

“It also helps that Steve’s no longer a douche,” added Mike.

“Hey,” scolded Eddie. “Watch it, Wheeler.”

“Uh, fellas?” said Robin, who had one of the curtains parted. “Did anybody tell Steve to come over?”

“What?” you yelped, rushing to the window. “Eds, did he call you?”

“Not since yesterday, baby. Gave the pneumatic performance of a lifetime.”

“Shit, shit. Okay, this is fine. It’s fine. Eddie, you’ve just gotta make him go away.”

“What? I’m supposed to be bedridden.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but you gotta. We’re at your trailer. It’ll look suspicious if I come out. Just pretend you’re getting better.”

“I’m no good at lying,” he whined. “Especially not to those baby browns. He’ll see right through me, sweetheart.”

“No, brother, you’ve totally got this,” said Spider. “Treat him like an old Fender. Gentle, but firm.”

Knock! Knock!

“It’s okay,” you added. “It’s only until the end of the week. Here.”

You threw a knitted throw around Eddie’s shoulders.

“What do I even say?” he whispered.

“You’ve been dating for three months,” Robin hissed. “It’s Steve.”

“I don’t need that attitude, Buckley.”

“Eddie?” came Steve’s voice. “Babe, you there?”

Eddie hacked a cough, jiggling the lock.

“Here,” he croaked, pulling open the door. “Steve?”

“Hey," Steve said brightly. "How do you feel?”

“Uh, sick,” Eddie started weakly. “S-so sick. Achoo!”

“Oh.” You winced at Steve’s soft tone. “Okay, that’s cool. I was just—sorry, this is silly but uh, Y/N’s been acting really weird and I dunno, I just haven’t seen you guys much this week. Are we good? That night, with the birthday thing…”

“Yes!” Eddie blurted too loud. “Everything’s good. Everything’s amazing. We haven’t even thought about your birthday.”

Ouch. You didn’t have to see Steve’s face to know what a crash and burn that was.

��Oh. Uh, right. So…” You heard the front steps creak. “Wait, whose bikes are those?”

“What?” Eddie squeaked. “Oh, p-probably some kids left 'em. You know kids, always leaving their shit everywhere.”

“That one kinda looks like Dustin’s…”

“Nope, don’t think so!”

“Eds,” Steve sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Y/N but, like, I wish you’d talk to me instead of making things up. Y/N said she needed to borrow a pan and Robin’s been acting super weird this week. Dustin won’t even come into the store. Everybody’s walking on eggshells around me and—”

He stopped, eyes wide. Eddie pulled the throw tighter.

“Are you… are you guys breaking up with me?”

“What? No! God no, Steve, we’re not breaking up with you. It’s just—we’re just…”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, hopeful.

“...Busy,” Eddie finished lamely. “Really busy.”

“And sick,” Steve said coldly. “Right.”

“Baby…”

“No, it’s—” Steve held up a hand. “It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll see you later. Or not. Tell Dustin hi.”

You covered your face with your hands when the door slammed. It took Steve less than a minute to leave, his car soon rolling out of the park.

“Munson. Dude. No bueno,” Spider said, eyes wide.

“I know!” he cried, tearing the throw off. “Fuck, I know, I know, it was terrible. I’m terrible. And so close to his birthday, God…”

“No, no. Eds, I haven’t been much better,” you said. “I was so caught up in keeping this a surprise…”

And now Steve didn’t even want to see you.

“It’s okay, guys,” Dustin assured. “Steve’ll forgive you once it comes together.”

“He was so hurt,” Eddie cringed. “God, maybe we should just call it off.”

“No,” Robin said firmly. “No way. I have covered for that dingus too many times to let it all go to shit. He’s head over heels for you both. He’ll understand.”

You turned to Eddie with a frown. He pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Whaddya think, Eddie?”

“I think Buckley’s right, sweetheart. Steve’ll understand. He’s just taking it hard ‘cause it’s his birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“I hope so,” he chuckled. “Or I’ll have faked pneumonia for nothing. Plus think about how worth it it’ll be to see the look on his face.”

Eddie was right. Steve deserved this. He deserved a birthday to remember. You had to pull through.

“Okay,” you said. “What time does Party City close?”

“Can I have a taste? Pleeeaaase?”

“For the thousandth time, no!” You moved the mixing bowl away from Eddie’s wandering hands. “You’ll have some soon enough. Why don’t you help the kids with the decorations?”

“I was actually banned from the yard, if you can believe it. Apparently there is such a thing as too many balloons.”

You rolled your eyes. “Take a brownie. One. As compensation.”

Eddie happily took the confection, immediately getting fudge icing and sprinkles on his nose. He took a bite and groaned, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Shit, these are good, baby. He’s gonna love these.”

“Yeah? It’s a new recipe.”

“Hell yeah, angel. Are you gonna make these for my birthday?”

“If you’re good,” you winked, wiping frosting from his lip. “Here, help me decorate the cake. This one’s cooled.”

You had smoothly iced the top of the red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. In delicate cursive, you’d already written Happy birthday with blue icing. You handed Eddie the piping bag.

“Here, write his name.”

“Shit, okay, I got this.”

Eddie took the bag with both hands, sticking his tongue out in concentration. His aim wasn’t as careful as yours, so the message ended up saying Happy birthday, sTeVE baBY!!!

“Hm. Think he’ll be able to tell who wrote what?”

You bit your lip, leaning into his chest.

“That’s okay, honey. Adds personality. Now, please.” You took the piping bag back. “Please go make sure Spider and the kids aren’t tearing up the Harringtons’ lawn.”

“Very well. I shall return,” he said in his best dungeon master voice. “Save me a cupcake!”

You put the last layer of the birthday cake into the oven. Then the phone rang.

“Harrington residence.”

“Hey there, best girlfriend in the world,” came Robin’s voice. “Are you guys almost done setting up?”

“Almost,” you said, checking the clock. “Give us another half hour. Everything okay with Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I jimmied the lock to the supply closet and made him think he’s locked in.”

“You what?”

“It’s fine!” she insisted. “He’s just pissed. He’s not, like, having a breakdown or anything.”

“Robin,” you sighed. “That’s not what I meant when I said keep him at work.”

“No, it’s cool. He’s—oh, he’s trying to kick down the door. Gotta go. We’ll be there in thirty minutes!”

Thirty minutes passed in a blur. Spider, oddities aside, got the projector running smoothly. You gave him a half dozen cupcakes and twenty bucks. He bowed deeply, kissed Eddie’s rings, and left. Joyce Byers had generously helped you with the dinner, and as soon as the cake was complete, you warmed the chicken.

“He’s here!” came Will’s voice, who’d been assigned lookout. “He’s here! Places, guys.”

Everyone filed out to the backyard. You and Dustin turned on the projector while Eddie and the others pulled out the screen. You heard them walk through the pool gate with Robin talking louder than usual to signal her entrance.

“...Keith definitely needs to get those locks changed,” Steve was saying.

“You’re so right. We’ll call him first thing tomorrow. Or maybe you could be less of a dingus and not get locked in next time.”

“I have never gotten locked in before! Robin, why won’t you let me inside my house?”

"It's a secret," she grinned.

"Robin, look, I really don't feel up to this. My week has kinda been a bummer and—"

"Steve.” She turned his head to the screen. "Just watch."

The projector clicked on, tape rolling. The screen was blank for a moment before switching to the video.

“What am I saying?” Max had been impatient when you’d caught her after school to record her part.

“It’s his birthday. Say what you’d tell him on his birthday,” you urged from behind the camera.

She looked at the camera, sighing.

“Fine. Hi, Steve. Uh, happy birthday. You’re twenty, right? Practically an old man. Don’t break a hip. Somebody’s gotta watch out for us shitheads.” She smiled then, rolling her eyes. “Guess you’re alright, though. Happy birthday.”

“Hi, Steve.” Joyce Byers sweetly waved at the camera. “Y/N and Eddie are here. They asked me to say a few words to you on your birthday. You guys are such dolls.”

“Mrs. Byers—” you said offscreen. “If you could talk to Steve…?”

“Oh, right. Steve, I know we don’t know each other well, but I’ve heard a lot about you and how you’ve grown into a very nice young man. Thank you for keeping my sons safe, and for protecting the kids. Happy birthday!”

Steve stared, eyebrows to his hairline. His lips were parted, eyes never leaving the screen as Robin herded him into a chair.

“Steve, buddy, hi!” Dustin beamed on screen. “You’re turning twenty, that’s awesome! Um, I wanna say that you’re really cool and you’re like one of my best friends now. Also, Y/N and Eddie did all this and they’re awesome. Please don’t be mad at them for being weird this week—they’ve just been planning hard for your party.”

The others had begun to trickle out of hiding. You and Eddie were slow in joining, not wanting to interrupt the video.

“Harrington,” came Hopper’s firm voice. “Heard you’re turning twenty. I better not get any calls about being drunk and disorderly.” His expression softened into what could almost be called a smile. He nodded at you and Eddie behind the camera. “Glad you’ve found a better crowd to run with. Happy birthday.”

You stepped out fully. Steve’s gaze landed on you and Eddie. His eyes were glassy.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” El, Lucas, and Mike yelled. “Hope it’s awesome!” she added.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” Steve said, equally as soft. “How did—what—”

“Happy birthday, dingus!” Robin sang on film. “Okay, wait. Look at them for a second.” She shifted the camera around, panning it around to you and Eddie.

“Robin!” you squealed on camera, trying to push it back around. “Speak to him!”

“No, you guys should get a feature too. Steve, these two love you so much and you’d better not fuck it up because they really are the best.”

She turned it back to her, smiling.

“Now I’ll say my piece: you’re my best friend. Not to get sappy and shit, but you’re a good guy and you deserve good things. Happy birthday.”

The tape rolled to a stop. You held your breath. A tear slipped down Steve’s cheek. Eddie was quick to swipe it away from his thumb.

“Babe,” Eddie murmured. “Is–is this okay?”

“Okay?” Steve choked. “Okay?”

“We know,” Eddie continued, grimacing, “that we’ve been acting fucking weird but only because we wanted this to be a surprise. We’re real sorry, babe.”

“Don’t—Jesus, don’t be sorry—” Steve gasped, stumbling forward.

He threw both arms over you and Eddie. You hugged him back hard, kissing his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, big guy,” Eddie said.

“We love you so much,” you added. “Happy birthday, Stevie.”

“You guys did this all for me? I thought…shit.”

Steve sniffed, rubbing his eyes. Eddie kissed him first, then you went. Steve gasped into your mouth, overwhelmed.

“You okay?” you murmured, cupping his cheeks. “Not too much?”

“No. It’s perfect. It’s—God, a single cupcake would’ve been great. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“We wanted to! We love you! I love Steve Harrington and Y/N L/N!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Eds,” you scolded laughingly, tugging his arm. “You’ll wake the neighbors, quit!”

Eddie pulled Steve in by his waist.

"Let 'em complain. Our favorite guy's birthday is today."

You led Steve and the others back into the house. There, you began to dish out the food. Steve stayed close as you and Eddie helped the kids serve themselves. The dining room had been decorated with pictures of Steve. With you, with Eddie, with Robin, at school, in the summer, whatever photos you could find.

“These were what we had to get a few days ago,” you explained.

“That’s why a bunch of photos are missing from my room,” Steve said.

“Yeah, Eddie’s no James Bond, clearly,” you laughed. “But we… well, we made the theme Memory. ‘Cause you haven’t really had any good birthdays. So we hope this’ll start a new line of memories.”

Steve bit his lip, rubbing his eye.

“Please don’t cry, handsome,” Eddie pleaded, wiping another stray tear from Steve’s cheek. “This is supposed to be happy.”

"No, I am happy. You two always bring life into this house," Steve murmured. "You make it feel like home."

You covered the pans and pulled your boys near.

"Well, we can do this as much as you want. Eddie and I will cook anytime you like, honey."

"I cooked," Eddie said proudly. "I also did some decorating. Shit, your present!"

Steve's eyes widened. "My present? This wasn't it?"

"No, duh. We had to get you a gift, obviously."

"You didn't have to—"

"But we wanted to," you interrupted, silencing Steve with a kiss. "Will you let us spoil you?"

Eddie gave Steve a gift bag stuffed with his favorite newspaper funnies.

"A jacket?” Steve gasped. "Eddie, it’s…”

"Now we can match," Eddie said giddily. "Y/N has jeans to complete the set."

Eddie had customized the back of the jacket with a mix of his, yours, and Steve's favorite patches. On the sleeve it said bestest birthday boy!!!! He'd also patched on a heart that said S.H. hearts E.M. + Y.N.

"You looked so good in Eddie's vest," you slyly grinned. “Hawkins won’t survive with you killing in denim.”

"Okay, well, I hope you know you're only giving me a giant ego, so," Steve announced.

"It's your birthday," Eddie shrugged. "We can afford it."

"Hey, are we eating or what!" shouted Dustin.

"Eat, eat, we'll be there in a sec," you called back.

"Probably making out in the kitchen," you heard Robin mutter.

Steve took your and Eddie's hands in his. He sniffed, smiling wide.

"Thank you. Really. This is—this is the most special thing anybody's ever done for me."

"Good," you said, kissing his temple. "You deserve this and more."

"Yeah, and just so you know," Eddie added. "This is only the beginning. Now that we know your birthday, you're not escaping us, Harrington."

"Oh?" Steve laughed bashfully, apple-cheeked and glowing. "How on earth are you gonna top this one?"

You and Eddie grinned at each other.

"It’s a surprise.”

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x reader x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic

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kinocomix · 1 month

Text

devlog 19: parallel storytelling, Devlogs are not forever...

The script for TSTW is 21 chapters long. I estimate we’ve reached the point where it kicks into high gear, given the (hopefully) plentiful space i’ve put in to get to know the characters. when draft 1 is done, i’ll be sending it off to my beta readers who’ll let me know the inevitable places where I left things unexplained. but for now it’s moving along well.

Today we’re changing gears slightly. we’re veering away from the world of granular storytelling and instead taking a look at narratives that shine in their simplicity. Last week we talked about figuring out the inventory our characters have in order to determine how they would solve a given problem. this week, we’re figuring out the deal with these two:

Let’s talk about children’s books.

regardless of what age group you’re from, chances are you have a book you were fond of as a kid. for a lot of people it’s something like the hungry hungry caterpillar, or maybe if you’re my brother you’re fond of the french series “Meche au vent” and “Martine”

There is something to be said about how the books you read as a kid influence you as an adult, and that’s why I’m doing this. In the story, Killouette has a book she really likes. Obviously, we need to make that book if we’re going to show it in the story. I love doing this- it’s called mise en abyme and it refers to when there’s a story within the confines of another story. I think it adds a lot of character and life to what’s being said if you bother to put as much effort into the side missions as you do the main quest. Originally i had drawn the image as an unrelated thing, having recently acquired two plushies that I thought looked great together:

and… that’s that right?

right?

so anyways the little lulu show is an animation series produced in canada that aired in 1995 through 1998, based on the comic strip little lulu by Marjorie Henderson Buell.

the arabic dub of the show, very popular among older folk made the rather curious decision to name the show after Lulu and her best friend which is something that gets acquired in translation i would suppose, but works really well for us because then we can name our two characters Loulou and taboush without worrying about copyright, because another company called studio 100 now owns it after having acquired one of the three companies that made the show and god forbid anyone is allowed to have any fun in this awful ecosystem of companies buying each other like stock.

youtube

But yeah, why am I making a children’s book inside another book? well mainly cause i want to, and if everyone is going to reject publishing my books i may as well have fun making them and be experimental. when I spoke about the camera being focused on killouette and her feelings, that’s great but this comes with an unintended side effect: the clarity with which my characters usually voice certain ideas isn’t there anymore. This isn’t the worst thing in the world, not every piece of media needs to have a message behind it. A decent chunk of stories exist out there because they’re fun and for no other reason.

Regardless, one of the ideas at play is the notion of problems being about perception more than they are solutions. we’re applying this specifically to how someone views themselves, so here’s what i came up with:

The story centers around Tabbouch, a stuffed elephant who has lost the button that’s usually attached to his stomach. The exact event that led to him waking up with the button missing is deliberately blurred and the question left unanswered, because that’s the problem that we’re trying to perceive differently, and I think it would be a bad idea bloating such a short story with things that aren’t relevant. Tabbouch is greeted by his friend loulou, a small fairy that looks like a bear and she suggests doing a couple of activities that aren’t going to vibe well with tabbouch cause at this point tabbouch is still really sad about his button being missing. tabbouch leaves loulou and runs into a friend of his who feels down. after cheering them up, tabbouch sees that the world around him is very pretty, feels good about that and by extension himself, concluding that although he still does want to find his button, he can still live without it.

it really doesn’t need to be more complicated than that. no one needs to know why the plushies are sentient or why they conveniently have small stoves… I say this mostly for me. the life of a chronic tryhard is difficult, don't judge me. What's important is that it mirrors what the kids in our story need to do. They have long term problems they can’t immediately address, so the solution is to see the problems immediately in front of them a little bit differently. with that out of the way, we can talk about the thing that makes children’s books shine…

the I L L U S T R A T I O N S

so it should be no secret at this point that I don’t really stick to any one way of drawing:

this one is how i did all of almost home, real ink with digital colors

this one is just linework with a fountain pen

watercolor:

image editing/glitching

special shoutout to MS paint:

there’s more but I don't want to put my entire portfolio in here so we’ll move on. This is good for me because I have the flexibility of figuring out how I want to show these images. I’ll have to fuck around and find out, but off the top of my head here’s a couple of things i’d like to try:

any of the above

scanning the inked linework and coloring the linework itself digitally (maaybe adding large flat areas of color? limited color palette?)

good old watercolor. I can't go wrong with that.

digital rendering with textures (this could allow us to use halftones for example, but comes with the risk of overdoing it. closest example is the very first image in this post)

paper cutouts mixed with real images

I like the idea of having each page be a linocut print, but i don’t have access to that, and i’d need to look into woodblock printing.

for the most part, i’ve figured out most of the stuff that i wanted to for killouette. so the next devlogs won’t be called “devlogs”... they’ll just be called updates. This is because beyond now I don't think I'll have anything too substantial to share since I'll basically be writing and doing set designs. I’d still like to post on Tuesdays, we’ll see.

Updates on tuesdays.

#comic #webcomic #devlog #kinocomix #writing #child reader #Youtube

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zukkaoru · 1 year

Note

22 for mailee zukka or sokka & katara!!!

jupiter!! hello!! this is. about half as long as it would have to be if i wanted to fully capture the feeling of this song. but hopefully it's still alright since it's already uhhh kinda long

22. sincerely me - artist vs. poet + mailee

and i wish that you could see oh, what you do to me and i hope this letter covers everything i'm yours, sincerely me

word count: 1927

Mai,

Kyoshi Island is warm this time of year, but it’s still nothing compared to Caldera City. I think you’d like it here in spring, actually. All of the flowers are blooming and the snow is melting and it’s really very beautiful. One of the other warriors taught me how to press flowers, so I’ve included some with this letter. I don’t know the meanings like you do; I just picked ones I thought looked prettiest.

A group of us are leaving for Gaoling in a few days. We’ve been trying to go on more recruitment missions, because Suki wants to create different chapters of the Kyoshi Warriors - that way we aren’t limited to helping Kyoshi Island. She has big dreams, but she’s got enough determination that I don’t doubt they’re possible to achieve.

Sokka, Katara, and Aang stopped by the island for a visit last week. It was nice to see them again even if I don’t know them very well. But seeing them reunite with Suki made me miss you even more. You should come visit when you get a chance! You can even bring Zuko if he can afford a break. I’d love to see you again!!

How is Zuko, by the way? You didn’t mention him in your last letter. Are you two still doing alright? Or do I need to catch the first boat to Caldera and kick his ass for you? Because I will.

Okay, I have to go - Tuq is calling me. I look forward to your next letter, and I’ll write again once I’ve returned from Gaoling!

Yours always,

Ty Lee

— —

Ty Lee,

Zuko is fine, but Zuko and I aren’t great. There’s too much stress with him being Fire Lord, I think. And we’re both realizing some things that make a relationship a little complicated. It’s nothing you need to worry about, though, I promise! We’re talking through it, so no need to beat Zuko up.

Besides, I’ll do it myself if I need to.

I love the flowers; they really are quite pretty. The pink ones are plum blossoms. Those mean “resilience” and “perseverance”. The yellow ones are daffodils, which mena “respect”. And the white ones are Tsutsuji, or azaleas. The white ones specifically mean either “modesty” or “first love”. It was a nice collection, you chose well.

Kyoshi Island does sound beautiful. I’m not sure when or if I’ll be able to visit, but maybe someday. Or I guess maybe if I need some distance from Zuko. I don’t know. We’ll see what happens.

I hope you enjoyed your trip to Gaoling! Zuko says Toph is from there. They didn’t like it much, but I believe that has to do with the circumstances of their upbringing. I’m sure it’s a fine place to visit. Suki’s idea about different Kyoshi Warrior chapters sounds helpful as well. Maybe you could come recruit in Caldera City sometime.

I miss you too. I hope we can see each other again soon.

Sincerely,

Mai

— —

Mai,

Gaoling was incredible! It’s so SO cool getting to travel around the Earth Kingdom and being able to really appreciate the cultures. I’ve learned a lot since I came to Kyoshi Island and we started going out on recruitment trips.

Although I do agree: A trip to Caldera would be nice. I’d love any excuse to see you! I know we’re both busy, though.

I’m sorry to hear about the complications between you and Zuko. And I know you can kick his ass yourself, but my offer still stands if you should need it. Or, like you said, you can come visit me here to get some distance from everything.

It’s hard to believe it’s nearing a year since the end of the war and me moving to Kyoshi Island. It’s still weird not having you close by, but it’s nice we can at least write letters. It doesn’t replace seeing you face-to-face, but it helps.

Spring is making me miss you more, I think. Remember when we would try to catch falling cherry blossoms, just the two of us in your backyard? I miss being that young and carefree. I miss seeing you like that. It was the one time you would let your guard down and allow yourself to smile.

I don’t think I ever told you, but you really do have the prettiest smile.

If I can ever convince Suki to take a Kyoshi Warrior trip to the Fire Nation, I’ll be sure to let you know. But until then, I’ll miss you and I’ll keep writing.

Yours always,

Ty Lee

— —

Ty Lee,

Sorry for the long break in letters. I’ve read all three you sent, but I was having trouble writing a response. Zuko and I have officially ended things. I moved out of the palace. I’m living with Aunt Mura now and working full time in the flower shop. My mom keeps trying to convince me to move home and I’m running out of ways to politely decline the offer.

I’m sorry this letter is no good. I don’t have much else to say.

I hope I’ll see you soon. I miss you.

Sincerely,

Mai

— —

Mai,

There’s no need to apologize! I’ll treasure any letter you send regardless of how long or short it is. It’s as close as I can get to having you with me.

I’m sorry to hear about you and Zuko. :( I know I’m far away, but let me know if there’s anything I can do!

I will say, I’m glad you moved in with your aunt instead of your parents. I know you don’t want to be too mean to your mom, but you’ll be much better off staying with Mura. Hopefully your mom will back off soon and understand that you don’t want to live with her anymore without you having to tell her it isn’t good for your mental health.

I hope you’re enjoying working at the flower shop! I know you always really liked that place. I used to think it was so unlike you to be happy helping out there, but I understand better now. It’s fitting, I think. You remind me of flowers sometimes; flowers don’t always recognize their beauty and worth either. But remember that you are always worthy of love and happiness.

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m trying to guilt you with how much I say this, but I miss you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you. A summer thunderstorm rolled through last night, and I thought of us hiding under the blankets in my bedroom. I was way more scared than you were, but you hid with me anyways. I really appreciate that. I’m not scared of thunder anymore, but I wouldn’t say no to building another blanket fort hideout.

The summer sun here is hot, but the heat of Caldera was worse. Take care of yourself. Remember to drink water and don’t stay out in the sun for too long without anything to shade you.

Yours always,

Ty Lee

— —

Ty Lee,

I miss you too, no guilt intended.

Mura and Zuko both say I should visit you. Would that be okay? You asked if there was anything you could do to help, and all I could think was that I really miss your hugs.

Sincerely,

Mai

— —

Mai,

PLEASE come visit!!! I will give you as many hugs as you want!!!!!!!

Yours always,

Ty Lee

PS: Wait, you’re still talking to Zuko? Also you don’t have to wait for another response from me before you leave Caldera. Just come. I’ll tell Suki to expect you soon. Unless you don’t want to come, in which case, you’re free to stay! But I really really would love for you to visit.

— —

Ty Lee,

Yes, Zuko and I still talk. It’s complicated.

Next week is the last week of summer, and there’s usually a rush in the shop that week, so I’ll leave at the start of the following week.

See you soon!

Yours,

Mai

— —

“This is so much better than the letters,” Ty Lee whispers, burying her face in Mai’s shoulder. She’s clinging to Mai like her life depends on it, but Mai doesn’t mind because she’s doing the same in return. And Ty Lee is right; this is far better than the letters they’ve exchanged in the past year. Mai has kept each one, safe in a box on a shelf in her room where she can reread them whenever she’s missing Ty Lee more than usual.

But Ty Lee in person is a million times better than ink and paper and even the pressed flowers.

“I missed you,” Mai says, as if that hasn’t been stated in every letter sent between them. But it’s important, and it means more than just those three words. It means I’m glad to see you again and Times may change but our friendship remains and I’m home.

It expresses the love that the two of them spent so long pushing down and ignoring, because how could they be together in a world that would lock them up for their feelings?

“I missed you too.”

The hug breaks, but Ty Lee doesn’t let go of Mai’s arms, and Mai doesn’t want her to. Mai wants her to hold on forever, never wants to be apart from her again. She wants to throw caution to the wind and beg to stay.

But she doesn’t. Not yet.

She takes a deep breath, inhaling the clean Kyoshi Island air, tinged with the first chilled breezes of autumn. She looks around to assure no one else has come outside to check on them. She never figured out, exactly, what to say now. But she knows she needs to say something.

Zuko had convinced her, actually. Mai, I know you. You won’t do this without a push, so I’m pushing you. Go to Kyoshi Island. Tell Ty Lee how you feel. I’m almost certain she feels the same.

And once Zuko had pointed out the signs, Mai couldn’t stop seeing them either. It was written between each line in every letter Ty Lee sent her. It was in the pressed flowers and the neat creases in the paper. It was in the space between every single letter.

I LOVE YOU.

“Ty Lee,” Mai whispers. She leans in slightly on instinct, desperate to be closer. They’ve been so far apart for so long and even though Ty Lee’s hands remain firmly wrapped around her arms, Mai can hardly stand the space still lingering between them. She wants to melt into Ty Lee’s body so they can never be separated again.

“Please stay,” Ty Lee says. One hand drops Mai’s arm to cup her cheek instead. “I don’t think I can bear to say goodbye again. I know I told you I didn’t want to guilt you into coming here, and I didn’t, but— I couldn’t say everything in the letters. Some things need to be said in person.”

“You did say it,” Mai assures her. “And I think I’ve always felt the same. That’s why Zuko and I never could have worked. I always— It was always you. I’ve always been yours.”

Ty Lee smiles. “Your letters said it too. I was worried I was reading them wrong.”

Mai shakes her head. “You should know no one knows me as well as you do.”

“Mai—” Ty Lee starts, then stops abruptly. Instead of saying anymore, she lifts herself onto her tiptoes, angling Mai’s face downward.

Mai takes her cue and closes the distance between them.

#this song goes so hard i love it so much #someday i want to write an in.uokko fic based off it.. but i might clean this up / add more and post it on ao3 too eventually #that'll be a project for next year tho #anyway ty for the ask and i hope you enjoy!! <3 #mailee #mai #ty lee #atla #a:tla #avatar #avatar: the last airbender #ty lee x mai #fanfic #grace's writing tag #ask game #elli tag

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electricbluebutterflies · 6 months

Note

Kabby + “for once, i need you.”

Post-s2 grayspace / let's play a little loose with medical plausibility here, PG-ish, also on ao3.

To say that neither of them is handling their current physical condition well would be a distinct understatement.

Abby will be fine in a week, hopefully, which is to say that until she’s able to move on her own without pain she is… even she can admit she’s not a pleasant person to be around, and at least she is admitting how badly she’s handling this, unlike some people, unlike-

On the bright side, the fact that she and her former nemesis have been more or less exiled to a storage closet together and haven’t even tried to murder each other in the past three days shows some kind of personality development for both of them. Whether this is positive or lasting remains to be seen.

At least she has a clearer path forward, she reminds herself. Every day the pain is a little less, and she’s motivated, and-

She wakes up from a nap to a noise that sounds like something… not quite dying, but like death would be less painful than this, and the usual space next to her is warm but not currently occupied, and-

“What did you do?”

Another unhappy noise, coming from the general vicinity of the floor. “Why is that always where you start?”

Fuck.

She’s known Marcus since they were children, which means she’s had decades to confirm how repressed he is, and anything that might make him this uncomfortable…

Whether it’s a good idea for her to get down on the floor is not the point right now. She can at least use the edge of the bed for stability if she needs to. Whatever happened can’t be that bad, she thinks, it can’t be-

Well, the amount of blood would explain a few things. Enough that she can see it through dark pants, enough… oh, she’d said the bandages weren’t necessary a few days ago, always trying to conserve resources, she didn’t think-

“For once, I need you,” he murmurs, and there is something so desperate and damaged in his eyes that she’s been seeing more and more lately and when did she start actually caring and-

“Stay still and forgive me,” she hisses, brain shifting into work mode as much as she can force it. “And take off your pants, if you can-“

She can disconnect well enough, or at least try to. The fact that she’s a little more interested in his body than she used to be is… currently wildly inappropriate, and she’s seen this wound before, and she knows damn well that he’ll never move the same way again and she’s not sure how to say that or if she ever can and-

It doesn’t look deep, at least. Like he hit something, maybe, but it’s just blood, it’s just-

There aren’t bandages anywhere she can see. More great decisions on her part, insisting that they didn’t need anything, insisting that they were fine, she’s so used to scarcity and improvising and it hits her that none of that is good and-

Taking off her tank top is the best idea she has. Blood will come out of the fabric, and she isn’t completely indecent under it, and she feels safe here, and-

She feels safe. She strips down to her bra, alone with someone she has never had an amicable relationship with, and she feels safe. That’s going to be a fun existential crisis if she ever has time for it.

For now, getting the fabric knotted around his thigh is enough of a challenge, and her hands feel unsteady and that’s another problems she doesn’t have time for, and by the time she gets the knot tight and centered over the wound she’s not sure she’s done anything right and she hasn’t felt this unsure of herself in so long and-

“Thank you.”

In a different mood, she’d make a comment about being amazed he even knows those words, but right now isn’t the time and-

“You worry me,” she murmurs. “You don’t get to worry me, understand? Not until I can keep up with you again.”

“I thought I could-“

“I don’t want to know. It is in your best interests if I don’t know. I didn’t know you could howl like that and-“

“Wasn’t sure how else to wake you up.”

It did work, she’ll give him that, but-

“You worry me,” she repeats.

“Is that a problem?”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

#ebf writes fic #kabby #queue

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tact-and-impulse · 1 year

Text

Suspension Bridge Effect Part 2

Ahhh, I made it in time for the end of the year! This has also been sitting in my WIPs for a while, and birthday dates are canon, per the mangaka. Read on below the cut, on FF.net, or AO3! Happy New Year!

part 2: winter

Have you ever gone ice skating before?

Lying in bed, Akiyama stares at the text and thinks. He had been invited once in college, but he had declined, instead visiting his mother in one of her many hospital admissions. It’s a choice he doesn’t regret, especially in hindsight.

No, I haven’t. He sends his reply and waits. After a minute, the light from his phone dims. He should put it down on the nightstand; it’s late and he needs to catch up on sleep. With all of the holiday lights around town, there’s bound to be a malfunction somewhere in the next few days. But still, he doesn’t move, and sure enough, Nao’s text comes through.

Never? Then, would you like to go on Christmas Eve?

Huh. He blinks, his chest growing warm with sudden fondness. This is the only way they’ve communicated over the past week, her finals a priority, and it’s nice to know that she wants to meet him too. He’s reading it again, as a belated addition pops up.

That is, if you’re free! The new text is accompanied by a blob-like emoji, its eyes squeezed shut in apology. A slight smile turns up his mouth, as he types his response.

Yeah, I can go after 8.

Great! Here it is. The next line is the address of an outdoor rink.

Thanks. Is anyone else going?

No one. Is that alright?

He can’t help the rush of satisfaction, but he ignores it, trying to be stoic. That’s perfectly fine with me. It’s a date. See you tomorrow.

The dots of her activity start up a couple times, before she finally responds. See you tomorrow, Akiyama-san!

With that, he sets his phone aside and buries himself under the covers. Maybe, he should have waited until morning to continue this conversation; it’s much more difficult to fall asleep now.

***

Really, it’s been a challenge to align their schedules.

Nao has decided to major in psychology, which is excellent, though her course load has increased significantly. And given the near freezing weather, his phone is on maximum volume, in case he gets the call to fill in for a sick coworker. They’ve managed to squeeze in a handful of study dates, drinks or lunch at a cafe and going over her classwork. He’s been refreshing his memory on the material; he likes how her eyes widen in astonishment at his explanations. But these sessions would inevitably end in one of them having to rush out, with a quick hug and smile.

He doesn’t have the luxury to be selfish, especially with her company. He tells himself that when he’s left watching her hurry away, still feeling the warmth of where her hands impressed on his back. Lately though, the ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts aren’t enough. Whenever she mulls over a question, he has to purposefully glance aside, too aware of the fullness of her mouth and the flutter of her lashes.

So, he is looking forward to this. It’s the closest thing to a romantic date yet, without college assignments or time crunches. If anything, it’ll be a chance for them to hopefully become more comfortable with each other.

***

He’s going to just be on time, and his strides are long and fast. The rink is adorned with strings of pale blue lights that are blinking to an unheard rhythm. Ornament-laden evergreens provide a glittering backdrop, certainly festive for the holiday season.

Nao is sitting on a nearby bench, in a dove gray coat and her chin cupped by a pink scarf. Her hands are enclosed in matching mittens, as she waves to him. “Akiyama-san! You made it, thank goodness.”

He stops before her, finally catching his breath. “Sorry, my senior insisted on buying me a bowl of udon, since he was leaving early.” Kozuki-senpai had also said some other choice things too, about initiative and stamina, that he had no intention of sharing with Nao.

“It’s not a problem.” She vigorously shakes her head, and then extends one mitten to him. “Let’s go.”

Holding hands is still a novelty for them, and he doesn’t miss the rise of color in her face when they touch. He smiles, letting her lead the way to the ticket booth. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes, I had dinner at the facility.”

He understands immediately. “Ah. How’s your dad?”

“He’s hanging in there.” But her cheerful sentiment is forced, so he gives a reassuring squeeze.

“If you ever need anything, let me know. Call right away. I’m one of your belongings after all.”

She does laugh at the reference, which is better. “Thank you, Akiyama-san. But, um, speaking of belongings…” She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a small flat box in silver wrapping paper. “Merry Christmas.”

For a moment, he’s rendered speechless. “Nao…you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Akiyama-san, I wanted to and we’re d-dating.” She stumbles on the word. “You can open it whenever you want.”

It’s embarrassing to do it in front of her, so instead, he tucks the little present into his own jacket and tells her. “Thank you. In exchange, today’s on me.”

Ignoring her protest, he buys their tickets and hands the smaller pair of skates to her. The short walk to the rink’s entrance is slower with the additional weight. He tries not to appear ungainly, but as soon as the blades contact the icy surface, his feet slide under him. He grabs the adjacent rail just as Nao’s arm slips through his.

“This is more challenging than I thought.” He grumbles, which only makes her laugh. They circle the rink a couple times, and while he doesn’t fall, his stomach does lurch when they turn. But Nao is actually steady, and he’s about to remark on it when something lands in the path ahead. A knit hat, dropped by one of the middle school clusters, veering farther.

Nao reaches down, grabbing the hat. “I’ll be right back!”

And she glides. She zips along, smoothly maneuvering across the ice. In no time, she’s caught up to them, calling out. One girl moves forward to take her hat, obviously grateful. They wave goodbye, and before Akiyama has to decide whether to let go of the rail, Nao’s already at his side again.

“You’re really good.” He remarks.

Her cheeks turn rosy. “Oh, thank you. When I was in elementary school, my dad signed me up for lessons, because my mom skated when she was younger.”

“Ever think about going pro?”

“No, never! I’m not that graceful.” Nevertheless, she traces a tight circle with her feet, perfectly balanced. Then, she offers. “Why don’t you try coming to me? I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He does hesitate for a second, only because he isn’t sure about his own physical capability. But he trusts her, and his fingers unwrap from the rail. Time passes agonizingly, as he’s suspended on the ice, drifting forward. He reaches out…and Nao pulls him in.

Letting out an exhale, he brings his other hand to her waist. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She sweetly responds in kind. Soft heat radiates from her, and the lavender scent from her hair tickles his nose.

His gaze slides to her mouth, and he has to clear his throat. “Thanks to you, I didn’t fall.”

“See? We’re alright!” And together, they skate on, hand in hand.

Over an hour later, they stagger out of the rink, too sore to continue any longer. But it was fun, he has to admit, and he wouldn’t rule out the possibility of going another time. They regain their bearings, strolling down the lit sidewalks. He can’t help noticing more couples, now that it’s well into the evening. He glances at Nao, a happy flush upon her face, and he follows her line of sight when she pauses.

A bakery display has captured her attention, and automatically, he steers them over. It takes some deliberating, but they leave with a hefty box of four different cake slices. With how crowded it is everywhere, Nao suggests. “We can go to my apartment.”

The building is newly renovated and the security is better; she did tell him that she no longer gets unexpected visitors. In her clean, cozy unit, the table is hidden under her books and laptop, though not for long. Once the plates are set, she takes a picture of the sugary array, and her smile is brilliant.

“I haven’t had birthday cake yet so this counts.”

He stares. “Today’s your birthday?” Somehow, he feels affronted. Not that he should have known or she was obligated to tell him, but this is an important fact.

She looks flustered. “W-well, I’m used to celebrating it with just my dad. Everyone’s always busy on Christmas Eve. When is your birthday?”

“Ninth of February.” Still, he doesn’t fail to detect how quickly she’s changed the subject.

She nods. “Oh, okay. I’ll remember.”

“And it’s the same for you. You don’t have to spend your birthday and Christmas alone again. I promise.” He meaningfully says, and her eyes well up with tears.

She hastily rubs them away, her voice trembling. “Akiyama-san…”

“Come on, no crying today.” He gently teases. “Here, which slice do you want to try first?”

Given the holiday, they split the shortcake, covered in whipped cream and fresh berries. It’s pretty good, and he’s not a big fan of desserts. She is though, and she eats with delight. He tries not to fixate on how she licks her spoon, and when she says something, he shamefully has to ask her to repeat herself.

“Has the professor emailed you back yet?”

“He did, but he’s out of town while visiting his in-laws. He said he wants to meet with me after New Year’s.”

“Really? That’s great!” She beams.

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous.” He admits, stabbing his fork through a glistening strawberry. “I haven’t seen Okabe-sensei in five years…what’s so funny?”

Nao is grinning, on the verge of barely contained laughter. “You’re being self-conscious and that means you really care about his opinion. But I think everything will be alright. From your stories, Okabe-sensei sounds like a reasonable person, and he’s the one who told you to doubt people and look into their hearts. He’ll know right away when he sees you, that you deserve a second chance. If he hasn’t already, he will definitely find a place where you truly belong.”

“…Probably.” He mutters. His ears feel hot. “You should meet him too, sometime.”

“I’d like that. And since you mentioned it, I think you should open your present now.”

That definitely sparks his curiosity, and he does. The item unfolds in his hand as he lifts it up; he’s genuinely surprised. A navy tie, struck across with diagonal stripes of gray and lighter blue. It’s finer than any of the cheap ones he previously owned.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there with you, but I hope you’ll show everyone at the university how wonderful you are.”

“I’ll wear it for sure.” And he’ll have a part of her with him. He makes a mental note to snap a photo of himself before the meeting, so she can see.

To his disappointment, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it’s his superior, and as he cynically anticipated, someone is down with the flu. He has a brutally early start tomorrow, taking over an assignment. And that means their time is up. With a sigh, he finishes his portion and retrieves his jacket, apologizing to her.

“It’s okay, I understand. Ah, wait!” Nao opens her fridge and retrieves a canned coffee. She also insists on packing him the matcha roll and half the chocolate chiffon cake, so he takes the paper bag from the bakery to the door.

“I didn’t get you a birthday or Christmas gift, and I feel terrible.”

“You really don’t need to, this is why I don’t tell many people about my birthday.” She argues. “I have the cheesecake, and the other chiffon half-”

“Well, you deserve something more.” He turns his back to her door. “Nao.”

“Y-yes?”

He tilts his head closer, watching her eyes darken. But she doesn’t move away. His own pulse is hammering in his temples, and yet, he braces himself. The question is a leap off the bridge, a plunge into the unknown. “Can I kiss you?”

A sharp little gasp from her, a flash of comprehension. And still, she surprises him. “Please?”

He swallows, fighting back the roar of base desire, and carefully fits his mouth over hers. She tastes like cake, and her lips are plush and warm.

He intends to stop there, but she stands on tiptoe and presses on, not ready to let him go. She’s never been greedy but she is for kisses, and he tucks that piece of information into his memory with pleasure. Her arms eagerly wrap around his neck, her curves bumping against him. His free hand blindly finds her side, the safety of her hip.

Suddenly, he can’t get enough. He sucks her lower lip, and she instinctively opens her mouth. The thrill of her tongue sends a jolt down his body, and he struggles for control. Luckily, Nao needs air, and she shakily inhales. He is incredibly satisfied by this new expression of hers; he doesn’t protest when she moves in for another intense kiss.

“Mm!” The sound against his mouth is compelling at first, before her touch abruptly recedes. She’s slipped downward, looking off balance. Her knees have weakened, literally.

He laughs, supporting her so she can grab the doorknob. “Merry Christmas. Happy Birthday.” He kisses both of her cheeks, and then a last one to her forehead. “And good night, Nao.”

Her eyes are glazed and her mouth is prettily swollen, but her response is decisive. “Good night…Shinichi-san.”

Oh. The use of his given name sends a shiver down his spine, in a good way. A tempting way. With great effort, he keeps his hands to himself as he puts on his shoes. “If the schedule doesn’t change, I should be free on Friday.” It’s almost a whole week, but it seems like forever.

“Will you let me know if you’re available earlier?” She blushes further, obviously eager.

“Of course, I’ll text.” He waves. “I’m off. You can close the door before you catch a cold.”

Slowly, she does, cutely peering out through the crack as she delivers a parting wish. “Please stay warm!”

Afterwards, it’s rote routine, preparing for sleep. He sends a single message to Nao, confirming that he is home. Her answer is the blob-like emoji, only with sparkling heart eyes. But in the quiet cool space of his bedroom, it does feel lonelier.

He wonders if there will be a day when they only separate in the mornings, and they don’t need to stop at stolen kisses at the threshold. Someday, preferably soon if all goes well. And content with that distant image, he smiles.

#liar game #akiyama shinichi #kanzaki nao #ice skating date was actually the first idea i had for them before i rearranged my outline #i think it's better this way so it all turned out good!

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polyamorouspunk · 2 years

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Not so angry but my polycule partners all live 3 hours away from me and I don't get to take time off work until the summer because we're busiest at spring (i work at a garden centre) so I havent seen them since new years day (for my throuple) or valentines (for my boyfriend) and i miss them like hell. sucks cuz i had to ask for a special allowance to have day off for next week because my dad is getting married and even though hes not my favourite parent to put it lightly and it taking place 4 hours away i felt obliged to go because of how he's given me a big financial deposit towards buying a house in the future (like thatll happen in this economy lol). I'd rather be snuggling with my throuple or watching my boyfriend play video games than having to deal with my extended family misgendering me and dead naming me ya know. Guess this was a bit of a rant aha

I feel that. I’m tired of people having friends and hanging out with people. I haven’t seen my friends since last August and unless my aunt dies before next August, which is looking more and more like a possibility, I’m not going to see them until them. My best friend has a bunch of other friends she’s met since high school and is living her best life going to concerts of the bands I got her into with her friends and having tons of sex etc. etc. and I know it’s not roses for her but still. My other best friend finally graduated college after putting in her 4 years to get a degree and I’m not really sure what she’s up to tbh and tbh she probably doesn’t have any friends either but. One person I talk to daily just goes to concerts and stuff all the time and has gay sex with multiple people multiple times a week and said they’re now maybe joining a polycule and I’m like cool the one person I like has been in AZ for a month getting a divorce and also we’re not on the best of terms. The other person I talk to every day is also in a polycule but feels underappreciated by his boyfriend which I get but I don’t really relate to either of them and I only talk to them because no one else talks to me daily except my ex who I’m thankful for and one other person (hi). My FP has been away for months like I’ve said and everyone here knows because I don’t shut up about it and everyone is sick of me talking about it and hearing about it and we aren’t even getting along that well but in the past 3 years he is the only person I’ve hung out with outside of my ex here. Hearing him complain that someone he was supposed to go out with bailed when he asked if they could come over his house like you have people you’re hanging out with though. Like every time I talk to him he’s like “I’m busy doing tattoos” like okay. Like I’m sorry your life sucks and I get being a full time parent to a kid with special needs while having a retail job and being in a messy divorce is hard. I do. But you spend your free time drinking with the girl you live with and giving each other tattoos and I guess going out with other people you’ve met there and meanwhile you are my only friend that I’ve made in 3 years and unfortunately I’ve become obsessed with you because I don’t have anyone else.

I get when you have to do something and you take a day off it’s like “finally I have a day off and I should be doing something I want to because I have a day off” but it’s not really a day off it’s “I need to fill an obligation I don’t really want to fulfill” and especially when you’re watching everyone you love doing things without you and you’re stuck with your same family that sucks (luckily my family is great but). I hope you do buy a house where you can come home to your partners every day. Hopefully at least time away from busy work will be better in the downtimes you’ll have to yourself around the wedding.

#I get feeling stuck in one place like you can’t come out and then when you do it’s for something you don’t even want to go to #punk gets mail

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daedalmirage · 2 years

Text

the world needs strange girls just like me | bella + sonia | trial 2

Every minute that drags on in silence is a minute of oppressive uncertainty. What’s going to happen now? is the question that Misery’s fragments seem to ask, silent and still as they are, scattered throughout the room.

Sonia can’t answer the question of what’s going to happen.

She can, however, clear her throat and answer the question of what has happened, in a more cohesive explanation that she hopes will serve the others more than it will serve herself.

“So, ahh… like I said earlier, I had to do this. Contacting my brother. Getting some kind of message out of here, affairs in order, things that were impossible until coming here… hah, you were right, Mari, weren’t you? Maybe this was targeted towards me. Guess I won’t get an answer from her as to whether it was or not, but…”

She grits her teeth.

“I couldn’t kill. I couldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d pushed me to kill. I’d started thinking about it before the motive, ever since all that happened with Beni, when we realized there was all these things Misery didn’t know about us, but I thought… since I’m a vampire, I’ve got certain abilities, don’t I? Why not use them to my advantage?”

Certain abilities, huh? That’s one way of putting it.

“But I couldn’t do it alone. I had to get someone else on board. Someone who I figured would’ve been the most likely to go along with it. Someone like…”

She casts a glance towards Bella, who chimes in.

“Your resident gothy dead girl, who ironically up until a conversation with a certain someone was very against the entire prospect.”

She still remembers that conversation. She’d stayed awake at night thinking about it, and it’s the first thing that came to mind when Sonia brought it up.

I can't say I've ever understood it. Getting a gift that makes you one of the safest, most special people in the world, and just focusing on the downsides.

Perhaps there's hope for me yet. For a meaningful life, and a peaceful death. Far in the future, I presume.

“I agreed to help because I knew that as much as we’re all geniuses, even geniuses need help sometimes. Sonia’s family, Johann’s connections, the yakuza- not to mention my fathers. People who brought me back from the dead when I died a natural death. There isn’t an influence supernatural or powerful enough to keep them from trying to intervene when they realize I’m being targeted. My parents never back down from a challenge.”

She opens the milk tea she’d been rolling around in her hands and takes a sip, looking relieved when it doesn’t taste like two dozen cigarettes.

“We pored over that booklet for a week. Making notes, figuring out who to contact…even if they may not be the proper fit to help with our situation, it’s still our right duty to contact your families or loved ones with the chance we had. We may not know your names, but we know you, and what else does Max have to do but a bit of detective work, hm? Find the parents of the mangaka who wrote Bunbunmaru Boy. Find the parents of the winner of Honey Money Season 5. Find anyone connected to the sailor who takes people out on the Great Lakes. Find the family of the clerk at this specific convenience store. No matter what, we will find them. All of them. And in doing so, in doing all of this, we knew we’d at least delay the next permanent, ghost-karaoke murder. We knew…the cost. We aren’t fools. We knew something bad would happen last time, and there’s no promising it won’t now. But it’s us she has a problem with. So hopefully…”

Bella trails off, and looks to the vampire standing at her side. Sonia nods in agreement, and starts up again.

“So we came up with a plan. Stage a murder, one that looked real enough to trick Misery into having a trial. Had to make it look like I was at least trying to get away with it— that’s why some of the pieces don’t fit together, like that kick in the wall. I figured she’d get suspicious if I just folded right away, hah…

The bite was intentional, too. I figured, if I can use my abilities to make sure Belladonna comes back, just in case her own body couldn’t stand up on its own… why not take that extra precaution, right?”

She scratches her cheek, sheepish. Perhaps out of place for someone who was only recently feigning such haughty apathy.

“The plan was to send the letter the minute I remembered my name, but you guys found Belladonna before I had a chance to do it. That’s why I ran from the scene when we all were gathered there— I ran straight to the bar while you were all checking the subway out. Like I said, I had to send a letter. I had to do it before the trial, while I still had a chance— otherwise, all this… it would’ve just been for nothing.”

Bella nods.

“Listen, I’ve been poisoned before -” WHAT? “And as a genius in chemical transformation, I know approximately how long it would take a poison like nicotine to process through a regular person’s system. When it comes to my own, I simply have to apply a formula factoring in the rate at which the artificial enzymes I have would process the toxins, and the answer is typically very reliable. However…I was sick, recently. Not severely, not enough to cause any alarm, but it weakened my body just slightly enough to cause a bit of a problem. I started to die from the poison, and then from the venom, faster than anticipated. I was only off by…five or six minutes, but still...It meant I had to call sooner than I thought, and Sonia didn’t have time to do the ritual.”

More drinking of the milk tea. It has to be nearly empty by this point. She’s going to switch to the soubes, soon.

“I woke up, revived myself, so to speak, not long after the investigation ended. At least, that’s what I’m assuming, judging by the fact that I hadn’t been collected and everyone was gone. I went back to my room to get my hearing aids, and then off to get something, anything, to wash the taste out of my mouth, and…to get eyedrops.”

She waves the bottle sheepishly, tucked in her palm.

“It took quite a while to move around, as I was trying to stay out of sight and was still feeling very sick, and very tired, from, well. Being poisoned, and bitten, and emotionally, it was very- ah. Anyways.”

There’s a pause, and then a chuckle from Sonia.

“You know… I really do wish I could tell you all my name. I’ve gone through a lot over the years. And I swear to god I knew it— for just a few minutes, I knew it. But the second I handed that letter off to the mirror… it was gone again. I don’t remember it anymore. So I’m still just Sonia for now. But you know what?”

A faint smile.

“I’m fine being Sonia.”

Bella reaches over to take her hand, grasping it tightly in a determined show of camaraderie. Her fingers interlock with Sonia’s like the metal links of a chain, solid and firm.

“I quite like the Sonia I know. Thanks for not simply killing me.”

To the others, she shakes her head a little, just a tiny, quiet moment of dissent.

“Our intention was never to hurt you, though it’s difficult to go throughout life without hurting others. All we wanted was to try. Try anything, to do something. Get a message out there, reduce the bloodshed…”

She laughs, but it’s a skittish, unsure thing.

“I figured it was better me than any of you. I know what it feels like. I didn’t want…any of you to know, too. I didn’t want to die. But I thought…I don’t know. All of you deserve a chance to get out.”

And Sonia offers a nudge of Bella’s arm, something to assure her just as much as to assure herself.

“To escape.”

Such a thing… is it possible?

Maybe you can only imagine. But maybe that’s enough.

#daedal mirage #ch2 afterword #ch2 #sonia #bella

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Education is for Everyone

(A/N): It is based on this.

Summary: How does Spencer react to a crying child in his lecture?

Warnings: Not that I know, but lmk if there is anything triggering :)

Wordcount: .9k

✨Masterlist✨

_______________________________

Education is something that shouldn’t be exclusive to a certain type of person. Everybody, no matter their heritage, gender, sexuality, disabilities or marital status should be able to get any kind of education they desire. This is something important to Spencer and he makes sure to show his classes that everyone is welcome. That’s why he tries to make them as accessible as possible.

May it be a visual portrayal of the unit, name tags with pronouns for everybody or him being available for questions any time. Spencer wants to give every single human being a chance of schooling, may the barriers be as high as they are. As long as someone is willing to learn something new, Spencer is more than happy to help with any kind of assistance.

This spread through campus pretty quickly and now his classes have a great range of diversity because of it.

It’s not mainly young people anymore. Not seldom do students come in, who are older than Spencer is. There is a broad mix of skin tones. Also blind and/or deaf people visit his lectures. Amputees and persons with a mental illness like (social) anxiety or depression participate in class. It’s a safe space for many people, an environment where all of them feel comfortable enough to actually say something and ask questions.

The doctor built an atmosphere in his lecture room he wished he could have when he went to college.

It’s another week on campus for him and he really needs it. The last few cases at the BAU were really rough, especially the last one, where children were abducted in a 24 hours time span. Sadly, none of them were recovered alive when they finally apprehended the UnSub. That’s why the week off is such a relief for him, it’s going to take his mind off the sad sides of his other job.

Slowly but surely people start to fill in and occupy the seats in the auditorium. Some he recognizes, others are new. With many people knowing how much effort the young doctor puts in to structure his units as inclusive as possible, they want to take a look at how he does it. It’s understandable to him and everybody is welcome and maybe they learn a slice or two.

“Good Morning, everyone. I’m happy to see all of you, even though it’s ungodly early for some of you. You know, at 8 a.m. most brains”, he starts his lecture while trying to minimize the facts and stats that aren't important to the unit.

In the middle of his course someone starts screaming. Startled by the sudden noise Spencer stops his talk flow. He looks around to find the source of the noise. A woman is packing her things up in a haste and takes a crying toddler in her arms. She begins to walk out, her head hanging low in embarrassment.

“Uh, Miss? Hold on, please.” Spencer makes his way up the stairs, the toddler still crying. The mother waits up for him, desperately bouncing the child, but to no avail.

“May I?” The young doctor asks, gesturing to the kid. Hesitantly she hands her over. As soon as Spencer holds the toddler, the cries slowly die down. The mother looks confused just like the rest of the class.

“As you can see, little…” He trails off and waits for the woman to say her name. “(Y/N)” “Little (Y/N) here started to calm down when I took her. This is because children, regardless of their age, sense their parent’s distress and this in turn stresses them out. If you don’t mind, I can keep her with me for the rest of the lecture. You don’t need to leave.” At the end he turns to the mother and speaks to her in a soft tone.

Flabbergasted, the woman nods and goes back to her seat. “Next, we talk about”, Spencer continues his lecture like nothing happened. (Y/N) in her blue pajamas stays quiet until the end of class. She even falls asleep in his arms, drooling a little bit on his jacket.

After the class ended, the mother comes up to him and takes her daughter. “Thank you so much, Dr. Reid. I didn’t plan on taking her with me, but the babysitter cancelled on me and her father had to go into work today. I promise this won’t happen again. Next time I’ll stay at home with her, but I already struggled keeping up with your classes and I didn’t want to fall behind even more.”

But Spencer waves her off. “It’s ok, you can bring (Y/N) in at any time. I don’t want you to feel like you have to miss any lecture because you are a mother. There is always a solution to any problem. I’m always happy to have you and your daughter here.” He smiles at her, indicating that it is in fact no problem.

It looks like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders and the mother thanks him before leaving the auditorium. It also helped Spencer on his side carrying the toddler. The innocence and calm radiating from (Y/N) reminded him of the good things in the world. And hopefully she comes more often into his class.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

For this Oneshot:

@ellyhotchner

#spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #reader insert #x child!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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mrsmaybank · 3 years

Text

Crushing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.”

A/N: I love baby genius, season one Reid so much. I wanted to give him a soulmate. Soulmate is you: shy and also a baby genius. Okay, thanks for reading. This was honestly just for me.

CW: Implied Smut, Mild Cursing, shitty writing

“Who...Who is that?” Dr. Spencer Reid, debatably the wordiest boy Derek Morgan had ever met, was suddenly at a loss for words. Maybe it was your perfectly sculpted face, your shoes, the copy of The Kreutzer Sonata held to your chest, your chest, or maybe a mix of it all. Whatever it was, at sight of you walking through the office doors, he was stripped of his ability to speak.

“That’s JJ’s new intern.” Morgan said plainly, before noticing the completely enamored look on his friend’s face. “What, pretty boy?” Reid couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He was too busy studying every detail of your frame.

“You think she’s cute or something kid?” Morgan playfully jabbed his shoulder, Spencer’s face instantly flushing an embarrassing shade of red.

“What?!” He shrieked, “I-no! That’s not..No!” That’s a lie.

“I just..I didn’t know JJ was getting an intern.” That though, was true.

“She’s supposed to be pretty impressive. Let’s go meet her.” he started in the direction of the coffee stand, where you and JJ had begun chatting. Before Spencer could protest out of his shyness, he was being dragged along.

“Morgan,” JJ smiled, “Spence,” she nodded in his direction, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My godsent savior.” JJ beamed in your direction.

You smiled more sheepishly then you would’ve liked, muttering a “Hopefully.” that got a laugh from Morgan and a “Oh, please.” from JJ, but nothing from the man in the glasses. You did your best not to read into it.

“Derek Morgan.” the muscular agent extended his hand to shake yours, an offer you timidly but happily accepted.

The taller, lankier, younger, incredibly cute man next to him stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably with a small wave, “I’m uh, Doctor Spencer Reid, oh! Uh, you don’t have to, uh call me Doctor. No..” He shook his head, “Just Spencer is fine.” He looked at you with wide eyes that sent butterflies berserk in your stomach and swiped his tongue in between his lips that only made them go crazier. JJ had told you all about the team. About the magnificently brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, his 3 PhDs and eidetic memory, and all the other quirks you’d have to know in order to work with him, but had failed to mention how utterly hot he was. You felt a crush hijacking your system already. Dear god.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Your hands gripped your book tighter as you shifted onto your tiptoes, “I’ve heard really exceptional things.”

The conversation was set to continue, but Morgan and JJ were summoned by Hotch to the closed doors of his office. Leaving the resident genius and you starting at each other with tight lip smiles.

Spencer started first, “The Kreutzer Sonata is great.” He excitedly continued, “It uh, it actually used to be a pretty bold book to carry around. After the work had been forbidden in Russia by censors, there was actually a mimeographed version that was widely circulated. Then in 1890, the United States Post Office Department prohibited the mailing of newspapers containing serialized installments of it too. Theodore Roosevelt even called Tolstoy a-”

His enthusiasm was beyond endearing. You finished for him with a soft smile, "Sexual moral pervert.”

Spencer’s lips upturned in a smile. It was rare somebody in the office could finish his sentences. And he couldn’t help but replay the crass words being said in your soft voice. He felt a crush hijacking his system already. Dear god.

“Most people don’t recognize it in the original Russian.” Spencer heard you say.

“Most people probably wouldn’t recognize it in English.” he retorted.

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Spencer wasn’t even kidding. “I’m not joking.” He shook his head. “It’s unfortunate how many people aren’t even vaguely familiar with Tolstoy.”

“It is.” you agreed. “You went to Caltech, correct?”

He smiled, “Yes.”

“I almost did too. Decided last minute on Columbia.”

“You went to Columbia?” he asked.

“I just graduated.”

“How old are you?” he asked before quickly correcting himself, “I’m sorry! That was forward! I am not...I’m not trying to undermine your studies with your age, I promise. I’m just curious.”

“No! It’s okay!” You got out fast. “I’m 19. I graduated high school a little bit early.”

“Me too.” He smiled. “12, actually.”

Your eyes went wide, “12?”

“Yes, um, in a Las Vegas public high school.” He winced, but the self-deprecation somehow came out charming, “I uh,” His eyes narrowed, “didn’t go to a lot of parties.”

That made you wholeheartedly laugh. “Me neither! I graduated at 15, which you know is the age everybody else starts. It created a really weird dynamic because the older kids in my grade didn’t like me, but the underclassmen my age really didn’t like me.”

Instead of the laugh you were expecting, Spencer just gave you a pensive stare.

“Um..I can’t see why. I think you’re very likeable.” The compliment would’ve been strange exchanged by anybody other than Spencer to you.

“Wait till you get to know me.” You said it through a smile but so softly you were afraid he might not be able to hear it, but he did.

And that was confirmed when he flashed you the most incredible, toothy grin you’d ever seen. “I uh, I doubt there will be any change in opinion.”

“Well, um, I’m sure- I think! You’re very likeable as well Dr. Reid.” you said.

“That’s what you say now.” He retorted in the same coy tone you had earlier.

You shook your head, “You’ll find I can be insufferably stubborn.”

-----------------------------------

After two weeks, there was little Spencer could do to hide his massive crush affinity for you from the team.

In the bullpen:

You guys had locked eyes and were mouthing out exchanged of No’s and Yes’s from across the room. There was an ongoing half-serious dispute about whether or not Xanthippe slept with Plato.

Morgan glided in his wheeled chair to whisper into Spencer’s ear.

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.” He said, shoving files into the cabinet below Reid’s desk.

“I’m..I’m not.. I--what? Bedr--No!” Reid whisper-shouted back.

On the jet:

“Reid?” Gideon called Spencer, “Chess?” He motioned towards the board.

“Yes, sure. Just give me a second. I’m almost done. I’m reading Infinite Jest. I don’t usually enjoy literature if it isn’t classic, even less so if it’s American. But..” Spencer smiled, “Y/N likes the author.” He continued his fast-paced reading of the third-to-last chapter of the book.

Morgan and Gideon exchanged glances.

Even in front of you:

You opened a sugar packet and began stirring.

“De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium is still some of the best work on heliocentric theory out there, I think. Copernicus knew what he was talking about!” You spun on your heels to see Reid’s face contorted in disagreement. You giggled, “Don’t give me that face! I’m right!”

He took a sip of his coffee as to keep himself quiet. “Listen, cosmological theory is for…”

But the pair of you were interrupted, it was Elle, standing behind you and in front of Spencer.

“New skirt?” Elle asked as you turned, back now facing Reid. She was pouring herself a cup of coffee too.

“Yes!” You excitedly nodded. “You like it?”

Elle looked up and down, but not at you. The judgmental eyes were for the man behind you. She pursed her lips, “Not just me.”

The only face redder than yours was Reid’s.

-----------------------------------

Nights spent in a bar after a case that had dragged on far too long was nothing new, but the energy tonight was especially light. Gideon had refused, but everybody else was just relaxed, even Hotch, and the team just got happier at each other's happiness. It was great, really. As Hotch and Morgan sipped on whiskey, JJ and Penelope had already downed four sugary, colorful cocktails and were in a whispered fit of giggles. Elle and Spencer settled on a tamer option of an IPA Spencer couldn’t name.

“SPENCER!” Penelope excitedly shouted, “Y/N is literally you! You’re both adorable! You’re both geniuses! You’re both young!” She drew on her rant, “And if you have a crush on her you should just tell her!” JJ’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she tried to cover Penelope’s mouth.

Morgan and Elle erupted in soft laughter while Hotch cracked an uncharacteristically amused smile.

“Spence, I swear, I didn’t say that! I just...I may have mentioned how happy you get every time she’s around! And how you guys can talk for literally hours!” JJ defended, her words slurring in silly drunkenness.

Spencer rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time they teased him about you, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either.

“I don’t have a crush on her! We just….we like the same things! It gives us a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah?” Morgan said through a laugh, “And what is it that boy and girl wonder talk about so much?”

“Well, uh.. a lot of things. But I find she gets the most excited when we are discussing the theories of postmodernism, in that apparent realities are actually just social constructs and veritable realities are subject to change, and uh... we like to talk about linguistics….political philosophy….history... mathematic theory...and uh, oh! Doctor Who.”

Spencer was blushing and spoke about you like a teenage girl did their boyband crush, and the team noticed. They didn’t even need to say it out loud. Spencer gathered from the way they looked back at him.

“I heard she lent you a book too, Reid.” Hotch said before taking a sip from his glass.

“Yes! She did!” He smiled, “It was her copy of Pale Fire. She has an impressive collection of 19th century Russian literature. All in its original dialect! Some of it’s even annotated, which usually would annoy me but since it’s her thoughts and notes I sort of find it endearing.”

“Dr. Reid is endeared!” Greenaway shrieked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up a little higher on his nose, “I find her incredibly endearing.”

“Y’all that sounded like a dorky love confession.” Morgan said as the team erupted in laughter and Reid’s head fell in a smile. There was no point in denying it anymore: He really, really liked you.

--------------------------------------

Within two months, you and Spencer had finally put your shyness aside, and spent a very lovely evening at watching an orchestra at the Smithsonian Music, and sharing noodles at your favorite Thai restaurant. And then you guys spent some time on your couch. And then in your bed. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen. You were both very sexually frustrated.

For the following two months, as soon as you both stepped out of the office, it was very, very hard to keep your hands off each other. Could either of you help it though? Teenage geniuses don’t experience parties, or football games, or clumsy sex. The time was perfect to make up for it.

And you guys did. The sex part at least. “Football involves a lot of dirt. And germs. And sweat.”

“Oh my god!” you shrieked. His hands were in a place they found themselves more and more often: Your pants.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, continuing his pattern of small circles on that particular bundle of nerves.

“It feels great.” You nodded.

“I uh, I’ve been researching the female anatomy.”

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, but trying to focus on your boyfriends newfound intellect. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He watched your undoing with boyish adoration and curiosity before swallowing, “Very.”

“Oh fuck!” Your legs began to shake, “Spencee...I’m gonn--”

--------------------------------------------

You and Spencer just understood each other.

#drspencerreid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminalminds #reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #Spencerreid #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x y/n #reid x reader #spencer reid #professor reid x reader #professor reid #season1 reid

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x natasha #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #tony stark #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel fic #clint barton #Bucky Barnes x platonic!reader

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

#1 Fan [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.

A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff & Smut

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.9k

Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13

Masterlist

Read Part 2 Here

The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.

He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.

So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.

That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.

He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.

The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.

So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?

“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”

He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.

He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.

But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”

“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.

“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.

“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.

“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.

“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”

“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.

— —

He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.

She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.

She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:

I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x

He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.

He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.

He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.

“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.

“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.

“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?

“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.

When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.

“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.

“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.

“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.

“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.

“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.

“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.

“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.

“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.

“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.

“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.

“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.

“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.

They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.

— —

He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.

Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.

His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.

It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.

“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.

“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.

“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.

It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.

“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”

Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.

It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.

He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.

“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.

“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.

“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.

“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”

“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.

“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.

“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.

“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.

“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.

“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.

When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”

She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

-- --

Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x

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Read Part 2 Here

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officialscaramouche · 3 years

Note

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

#writing #Gorou #Gorou x reader #angst #fluff #oneshot #a stupid capricorn

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

Already dating

Word count: 1618

Genre: Probably fluff, idk really

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: could you maybe write something with Natasha x male reader (if your comfortable, otherwise you can write it with female or gender neutral) where Natasha blushes when the reader compliments her in front of the team and the team immediately goes crazy and does everything in their power to get them together, only to find out they've been dating all along?

Summary: Steve and Tony (mostly Tony) lock you in an elevator to admit your feelings, not knowing you’re already together.

A/n: Thanks @mochamoff for the request, sorry it took so long to do it! I’m writing this authors note over a week before I’m posting the fic which is unusual because usually I post within twenty four hours of finishing. Anyways it feels nice to be on a break and this fic being posted means I’m officially back which I��m excited for. To be honest this fic isn’t the whole team, just Tony and Steve, but I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out so I hope you all enjoy reading!

“Next time you have to listen to me in the field Stark.” Steve says as soon as everyone is settled into their place on the jet.

“Actually I don’t, you have absolutely no power over me and as much as you want to be the leader of this team you are not so stop acting like it.” Tony snaps back.

“Someone has to step up and lead.” Steve tells him. “It’s not like you could do any better, you would probably mess things up.”

“Maybe I would, but I would do a hell of a lot better than you are doing.” Tony says. “You like to pretend you’re all high and good and above us but who made you leader? Nobody. You crave control so you took it.”

“I did what needed to be done.”

You watch them snap back and forth at one another a few more times, rolling your eyes at Natasha. She gives you a small smile to show that she’s amused and turns her attention back to your two teammates whose argument has only gotten more and more heated.

“Y/n what do you think?” Tony asks, catching you off guard.

“About what?”

“About who would be a better leader for the team.” he explains. You think for a moment and they both stand as tall as possible (in Tony’s case it isn’t tall at all) and puff out their chests. You scoff, the male ego is so big, even in men who are good and try to do the right thing.

“Neither.” you decide.

“Neither- but the team needs a leader, you have to pick someone.” Tony splutters.

“Just because I don’t think the best leader is either of you doesn’t mean I don’t think the team needs a leader.” you tell him. How one of the smartest people in the world can’t figure that out for himself is beyond you.

“So who would you choose then?” Steve asks, confused.

“Natasha obviously.” you say, smiling at her. The corners of her mouth tug up slightly and even that small movement makes you feel proud.

“No offense, but Natasha???” Tony asks, seemingly outraged. “Why?”

“Well first of all she doesn’t have a fragile male ego like you dumbasses.” you tell them. “But it’s more than just that. She’s smart, both book smart and street smart. She can hack into computers and memorize information easily and knows how to blend in, or to get people to like her. She is more rational than the both of you combined but is also good at making decisions on the fly. She is an excellent fighter and can keep track of strategies and she has connections in and out of the government, with backup plans for almost every situation. Not to mention she has an amazing heart and don’t argue like some other people on our team tend to do. And of course she’s absolutely gorgeous but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

You wink at her at the end of your mini speech and are surprised to find her cheeks noticeably pink. She can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face when she thinks over your words.

“Abort mission, Romanoff is blushing and smiling, I think I might be about to die.” Tony states obnoxiously.

“Shut up, you’re just annoyed that she likes me better than you.” Natasha tells him, taking a breath to (mostly) collect herself.

“You’re scary when you’re happy. I haven’t seen you like that before.” he says. “Are you in love with Y/n or something?”

“Shut up.”

Tony smirks. “Make me.”

Natasha takes one threatening step towards him and that’s all it takes for him to back away, stuttering out apologies and mumbling under his breath about how Natasha is too scary to be a team leader. Natasha’s scare tactics do seem to work though because he doesn’t speak to anybody but himself for the rest of the ride home.

As soon as the jet touches down you and Natasha exit, heading straight to the room where you are supposed to be debriefed. Steve tries to follow but Tony grabs his arm to let him know to hold back a second.

“I know I joke but I honestly think they’re in love with each other.” Tony tells him. “I didn’t see it before today but there’s no way Y/n’s speech was platonic, who memorizes lists of reasons why they like their friends, not to mention their flirty wink at the end. And then Natasha, she’s scary but she was acting weird and happy around Y/n.”

“I hate to say this but I agree with you and they would make a cute couple.” Steve says. “But we should probably catch up now.”

Tony takes Steve’s words as an opportunity to stop being serious and become obnoxious again. “Onward dear captain, lead the way fearsome leader, how ever could I-”

“Tony I’m trying to be polite but you are making it very hard.”

---

“Tony no.”

“Tony yes.”

“That is a horrible idea.”

Tony opens his mouth in outrage. “I think it’s a pretty good idea actually.”

“I won’t work.” Steve counters.

“Well I think it well and need I’m the only genius here.” he says smugly.

“You can’t force love!” Steve tells Tony, running his hand through his hair in frustration.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tony says, “I’m not forcing love, they are already in love. All I’m doing is giving them a little push.”

“By locking them in an elevator?” Steve asks in a deadpan voice.

“Exactly.”

“You can’t just go around locking people-” Steve starts to say but he gets cut off by Tony.

“Shhhhhhh, hi Y/n, hi Natasha.”

“Hi guys, what are you up to?” you ask, obvious to what was going on seconds before you entered the room. Natasha eyes them suspiciously because they are acting weird, holding their bodies stiffly, which means they are hiding something.

“We were just about to head down to the training room, want to come?” Tony lies smoothly while Steve shakes his head in the background.

“That sounds good,” you reply, “you want Tasha?”

“Okay.” she agrees, still eyeing both of them, Tony in particular suspiciously.

“Great!” Tony says and starts to walk towards the elevator and the rest of you follow him, Steve trying to convince himself that going along with Tony’s plan is doing no harm.

“Ladies first.” he says, stepping off to the side and giving a big flourish with his arm. It’s weird but then again Tony is always weird so you don’t think too much of it, stepping into the elevator. As soon as Natasha follows you in he orders Jarvis to close and lock the doors and to prevent the elevator from moving and then pulling up a screen so he can watch you.

“You better run when I get out of here!” Natasha yells. “You too Steve!”

“You’re going to thank me later.” Tony says. “Steve, why don’t you explain why we locked them in.”

“Um,” Steve hesitates, not knowing where to start, “well we think that you two need to talk about, um, feelings.”

“Feelings?” you ask, confused, while realization dawns over Natasha’s face.

“Um, yeah feelings.” Steve responds, feeling very awkward and hoping this works so he didn’t do all that for nothing.

“They don’t know we’re dating and they’re trying to get us together.” Natasha leans over and whispers in your ear before straightening back up and talking to Tony again. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic Stark.”

“What? I’m not- romantic me? Pepper says I’m the least romantic guy she’s ever been with.” he splutters, trying to regain his masculinity.

“And that is not a compliment.” you tell him. “But for some reason even though ‘you aren’t romantic’ you wanted to get us together.”

“Maybe I did,” he says. “but you have to admit that my plan is amazing and it's totally working.”

Natasha snorts “What part of this conversation screams working to you?”

“Well you haven’t killed Y/n yet and neither of you have denied your feelings so it’s obviously working. I expect a thank you speech dedicated to me at your wedding.” He says arrogantly.

“There will be no speech.” Natasha tells him.

“But there will be a wedding?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Steve has to look away because it looks ridiculous.

“Hopefully.” you say, teasing Tony with your vagueness but also making Natasha smile as she thinks about what that might be like.

“Told you my plan would work.” Tony brags to Steve before telling Jarvis to release you from the elevator.

“Your plan sucked.” Natasha tells him. “We were already dating dumbasses.”

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room as Steve and Tony stare after you, shocked.

“Did you know about this?” Tony asks, looking at Steve with suspicion.

“Not at all.” Steve answers, his mouth still half open. In hindsight it should have been obvious. Of course Natasha wouldn’t want to be open about her dating life right away, she likes her secrets way too much.

---

“You owe me fifty bucks Y/n.” Natasha tells you once you’re out of earshot.

“Seriously?” you whine.

“You said they already knew but they didn't, so pay up.” She holds her hand outwards expectantly and you both laugh.

“Later.” you tell her. “There are more important things to do now.”

“Hmm, like what?” she teases gently, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches because you still can’t believe you are dating someone this beautiful. You match her halfway and pull her into a deep kiss, only pulling back when you need to breath.

“This.”

---

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#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel fanfiction

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sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Jealousy

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Drama | NC-17 | College AU Summary: It comes as a nice surprise when you saw your ex-boyfriend at your workplace and you thought everything was going to be fine. You both have moved on, right? Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, thinks otherwise.

Warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral sex, slight choking, slight dirty talk, this is just pure filth you guys I’m so sorry I had too much feels

It’s the continuation of Before Our Story Began but can still be read separately if you want.

It has been months since you first dated Lee Donghyuck, also popularly known as Lee Haechan, and things were great—more than great, even, but all good things have come to an end at one point. Your relationship with Haechan is still going pretty strong, but now that you have passed the Honeymoon Phase—where it’s all just sex and raw passion—things can sometimes get a little tense.

While he’s been certainly fun and charming for the most times you’ve been together, not to mention adventurous when it comes to sex, Haechan can be really stubborn and selfish that you often start to bicker with him over the simplest of things.

Like yesterday, for example.

“Look, I said I’m sorry!” He whined and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes because that was so him and it wasn’t really cute anymore. Especially after he arrived an hour late at the cafe that he’d asked you to meet a day before.

“I’m not angry,” you stated, emptying the rest of your coffee. On the other side, Haechan’s ice americano was still pretty much full considering he just got there and you had ordered the drink for him an hour before, thinking that he was going to be on time for your date. But no, he was so into the new online game Jaemin had told him about a week ago that he began to lose track of time. It seemed to you that was all he’d been doing for the last few days, and you were fine with giving him some personal space but clearly not if he was wasting your precious time instead. Not everybody is as smart as him when it comes to keeping good grades. Maybe he doesn’t have to study much, but you do.

“You are! You’re totally angry!” He pointed out and you sighed because of course, I’m angry, you idiot, I had to spend an hour by myself doing literally nothing because you asked me to go out when I’m supposed to be working on my papers that’s due tomorrow but you kept yourself in silence. You had to be the adult in the relationship, especially when you’re dating a goddamn brat.

“Whatever.” You placed back your phone—which had been your only companion—into your purse and wore back your coat. “I have to go.”

His eyebrows—his thick, beautiful eyebrows that you love so much (though not that day) were knitted in both desperation and annoyance from how you acted. “Noona!” He wailed, grabbing your hand when you stood up from your seat. “What do you want me to do? If I could go back to the past, I would, but I can’t and you being unreasonably angry like this isn’t—”

“Unreasonably?”

Haechan’s jaw hung slackly on his face when he noticed the anger radiating off your body. You were angry before but not this angry. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, pulling your hand out of his grip. “I’ll see you later, Donghyuck.” It was cold, the way you said it, and Haechan sensed that. But being the whiny brat that he was, he just kept on shouting back, gathering people’s attention.

“Can’t we be adults and talk about this—Yah!” When you didn’t answer—or even glanced back at him—he threw his hands in the air, yelling, “You know what? Fine! I don’t really want to hang out with you anyway! In fact, it’s actually better for me if we don’t hang, ever!”

But you already had your feet out of the door.

On the next day, he came by to your dorm at four in the morning, making your roommate groan with a hellish fire burning in her eyes. “If that’s your boyfriend, I am going to kill him.”

“Don’t bother, I will,” you muttered in response before you stepped down from your bed, turned on the lighting (which earned another loud groan from your friend), and reached for the door. Haechan stood there with his hair looking like a bird’s nest, his cheeks reddening from the morning cold, and his eyes bleary from lacking sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he softly said in all of the sincerity he could emit. “I’ve been an asshole.”

“It’s four in the morning, Haechan-ah.”

“I know, but I can’t sleep thinking about what happened before and I don’t think I can before you forgive me.” He did his best pout. It was cute, but not cute enough to wash your vexation away. “Also, it’s raining heavily outside, if you haven’t noticed, so I thought it would add some dramatic effects to my apology.”

“You’re not wet though.”

“Neither were you before you met me,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows but when he noticed you glaring at him in reticence—oh if looks could kill—he flinched and hastily added, “Sorry, bad timing. I don’t know why I said that. Well, umm, it was kinda cold when I stepped under the rain so I decided to just bring an umbrella with me.” He suddenly seemed like he remembered something. “Oh yeah, can I leave it here? I’ve got an early class today and I don’t really want to carry it with me everywhere.”

That earned another flat stare from you. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, are you?”

“I am! I swear!” He squeaked, shuffling inside his bag before he took out a white box with a red bow wrapped around it. “Look, I brought you some chocolates.”

“I’m on a diet.”

“Well, now, how am I supposed to know?”

“I literally told you that yesterday.” To say he was testing your patience would be an understatement at that point. “Remember? When you arrived late on our date and you asked why aren’t you ordering anything and I said I’m on a fucking diet!”

“Yo, chill, I was just trying to be nice.” Haechan grabbed you by the shoulders, massaging the sore spots and it would probably feel good if you weren’t so pissed-off over his antics. “Also, Noona, don’t you know? Men have a harder time remembering things than women do. And that’s just scientifically speaking, not me.”

You exhaled so loudly into the air, slapping his hands away. “Look, it’s literally four in the morning. Can we talk again when the sun is up? Like normal people?”

“Noona, pleaseeeeee.” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I said I’m sorry! What else do you wa—”

“JUST FORGIVE HIM FOR FUCK’S SAKE! YOU GUYS ARE TAKING FOREVER AND YOU’RE GIVING ME HEADACHES!” Maybe you and Haechan were getting a bit loud, but your roommate was just shouting like she was about to march on a war so you didn’t really have the choice. It was either take your boyfriend’s apology or have your roommate kill both you and your boyfriend at the same time.

Haechan sheepishly and annoyingly smiled at you. “She’s got a point, you know.”

But, of course, he does learn his lesson from time-to-time so things don’t always end up in fights. And Haechan can be considerate, if he wants, noticing the little things that you do. Like when you’re wearing a new skirt (or new underwear, for that matter), giving you his jacket when you sniffle from the cold (as cheesy as that sounds, it does make your heart flutter a bit), or intertwining your fingers together when you’re nervous before your presentation.

Hopefully today this considerate version of his comes out to play again because there’s something you want to talk about with him.

“I think I need to start looking for a part-time job,” you say, sighing contently as he has his lips on your neck, suckling on the soft skin. Your fingers are playing with the soft strands of his hair, unconsciously tugging at them when he brings his tongue into the game. You know it’s not really the best time to have this conversation—especially not when he has his hand under your shirt as you sit on his lap at the back of his car—but with Haechan, it’s almost always like this whenever you’re alone with him so you don’t really have that many options. “I’m running out of money.”

“From dumping too many dead bodies in the swamp?” He chuckles next to your ear, unbuttoning more of your shirt and pushing the fabric off your shoulder. “Babe, I’ve told you,” he mouths against your skin. “You gotta search for a new swamp that’s free of charge—”

“Shut up.” But you’re laughing anyway. This inside joke you two have has become somewhat of a routine—a topic that pops out anytime in any conversation.

You can feel his grin pressing against the sensitive skin below your ear. “Told ya this swamp thing could be our thing.”

“No, I’m serious.” But despite that, you have to hold back a moan when you feel his hand roaming around your chest, his fingers slipping underneath your bra. You can’t tell him exactly why you need this job because you don’t want him to feel sorry for you. But the truth is, your parents back home have been having financial problems and you know how costly your college tuition can get. You just want to help out, even if it’s not much, and try to survive on your own without using your parents’ money. “I need some pocket money.”

Haechan has your earlobe between his teeth, his breathing feels warm and extremely sexy in your ears. “Mmm, for what?”

“To buy personal things.”

“What personal things?”

“Like…” You bite your lower lip, having the hardest time concentrating when he starts to play with your nipple, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bud. “I don’t know, like girl things.”

Haechan suddenly pulls away, looking you straight in the eyes with his own gleaming in excitement. “You mean like a customized dildo?”

“Make-up, Donghyuck.” You flatly stare back. All your sexual excitement from before? Gone. “I mean, make-up.”

“Sure, that too. But,” he insists and you roll your eyes, knowing where this is going. “Have you ever considered playing with a dildo in your spare time? Because I have. I mean, picturing you using it. Not me using it in my ass, oh God, no.”

“Are you done?”

“No, seriously.” It turns out, he’s not finished. And he still has a long way to go, judging by the enthusiastic look in his eyes. “Because I would totally buy it for you if it’s a dildo you need. Or any sex toys, for that matter. No matter how expensive it is, I’ll pay! I’ll save up some money and buy some so we can use them together in the future!”

He’s making it look like he’s talking about buying a house for your future marriage and it’s cute and disgusting at the same time so you stop him by pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s pathetic, the way he whines, but as long as it can stop him from sputtering nonsense, you’ll do it again.

“Why do you need make-up anyway?” He eventually gives up, rubbing his red nose, still wincing from the pain. “You’re already pretty without it.” And it really does sound sincere, the way he says it. Haechan flirts a lot, even when you’ve been together for months, he still does it pretty often. But he does have his sincerity from time to time, just like now, and you can’t help but blush a little because of it.

“Well, I’m more confident with it.”

“Well, of course, you do look smoking hot with your make-up on, don’t get me wrong,” he adds, lazily circling his arms around your waist as he leans his back to the car’s seat. “But you’re beautiful the way you are too. Like, you literally can wear that I woke up like this shirt every morning and you won’t find me complaining.”

“You complained about my morning breath this morning.”

“That you should work on.”

“Asshole.” You push a palm against his face, which he licks playfully like a dog. This is your favorite Haechan, if you have to be honest, with his lips pulled back showcasing a boyish grin, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you, and his voice sounding light and airy with a hint of teasing in his words. And of course, also with the way he has his hair slightly pushed back, his forehead shown and his eyebrows raised whenever he throws flirty lines at you.

You really should consider yourself lucky to be able to call someone like him, who has the perfect balance of cute and sexy, as your boyfriend.

“I really like you,” you say, abruptly out of nowhere that it surprises you too. Haechan’s laughter stops almost immediately, his eyes searching yours. There’s silence hanging in the air, slowly suffocating you, and you’re about to beg him to say something when he smiles, so gentle and soft, with his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb.

“I really like you too,” he says, almost like he’s sighing. His eyes go up-and-down your face, switching from your eyes and your lips. “I like you so much that it drives me crazy sometimes.”

It’s insane how fast he can turn your steady heart rate into something that beats too loudly for your ears. “Okay, stop right there. I can’t with all this cheesiness you’re throwing at me. Let’s just make-out.”

And that sexy smirk of his grows back almost immediately. “I won’t argue with that.”

***

It’s not easy getting a job these days, especially when you don’t really have a set of skills you can be proud of but luckily enough, you’ve found a part-time job as a waiter at a family restaurant nearby. The salary is slightly below your expectation so maybe you have to recalculate your budgeting again but beggars can’t be choosers. You thought it should be enough for now. And the most important thing is, you only have to work three days a week so you can fit in well with your campus’ schedule.

The only remaining problem is your boyfriend because, believe it or not, he demands more time than all of your classes and assignments combined.

“I can’t believe we have our Netflix account renewed like two months ago and yet we haven’t watched anything on it,” Haechan complains, a bag of popcorn on his lap. He’s in his black sweat pants, hair all tousled from lying around on the bed all day. He’s already munching more than he should, even way before you can log in to your Netflix account. “At this point, we’re just throwing our money away.”

“Don’t blame me,” you retort, taking the bowl into your arms so you can climb into his lap, snuggling close to his chest. “I’m not the one who got my dick hard during the first half of literally every movie we decided to watch together.”

“You literally rubbed your ass against my crotch every single time. What a man gotta do in that situation?”

A smile creeps up your face. That you certainly did. It’s just so funny to have him flinch every now and then whenever you move slightly in his arms so you often just exaggerate your movements a bit, sometimes leaning forward in a suggestive way whenever you tried to change the brightness of your MacBook screen—so Haechan could take a good look of your ass—before settling back between his legs, making sure to give him enough friction as you slid down. Or sometimes you just laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a random kiss to his neck, and just went back to watching the screen as if you didn’t do anything. It really didn’t take long before Haechan groaned in exasperation, threw the bowl away, tackled you down to the bed, and pulled your shorts down your legs.

“Should I move away then?” You offer. “We can stay, like, five feet apart from each other as we watch this.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, pulling you closer again to his chest. “I like to snuggle. You’re warm and you smell really good, it comforts me. Besides, having sex with you is so much better than watching every movie out there.”

“Even better than watching The Kissing Booth?”

“Yah!” The way his cheeks turn scarlet almost immediately is too cute for you to handle. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me! See, this is why I—”

You cut him off with a chaste kiss, letting your lips linger on his the way he likes it before you pull away and pat him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Forgive me?”

Haechan unconsciously juts his lower lip out, just a little. “Fine,” he mutters, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist before he skims his nose along the nape of your neck. “Only because you’re cute,” he whispers.

“Oh right, that reminds me,” you say, closing your eyes as you listen to his breathing. It’s somewhat calming your nerves, after a long day of doing… well, nothing, actually. “I’ll be busy every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday from now on so we won’t be able to hang out during those days.”

“What?!” He shrieks, almost turning you deaf. “Why?!”

“Because I have my part-time job, didn’t I tell you that before?” You can honestly hear your ears ringing from the loudness of his voice. “Or did you not listen to me again?”

“I can handle it if you work during the weekdays, but on the weekends too?” He’s actually looking pretty upset, though not that you haven’t expected him to be. “That’s our time! How can you do that to me? To us?! This is so not fair!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop being a drama queen. You literally spent the last weekend playing Overwatch at Jaemin’s place.”

“Whoa, hey,” he crows, pulling away from you with both hands raised in the air and forcing you to turn and look at him in the eyes. You do it as you nonchalantly munch on your popcorn, enjoying how dramatic your boyfriend can be at times like this. “Once again, lady,” he stresses on the word, narrowing his eyes at you. “They were holding a very, very important Anniversary Event and that does not happen every day. It’s not like I have any other choice! They were giving out new skins and other rewards!”

“Your choice was to spend your Saturday night with your fingers on your keyboard or in me. That was your choice.”

Haechan opens his mouth to say something, already holding out one finger in the air as if he’s about to make a good excuse but he fails almost immediately when your point begins to sink in his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? I should’ve been wiser.”

You pat his hair as you would do to a child. “Look, we can still hang out. I only work during the day, you know. You can always pick me up after work and we can get dinner together or something.”

He pouts, lowering his head as he murmurs, “It’s still not the same, though. I like spending time with you.”

You can feel your heart flutter from the way he says his line so genuinely. “Me too, Haechannie. Let’s just promise to always meet up on the weekends after I’m done with my work.”

The pout still does not falter away but it’s nothing a kiss can’t fix.

***

“Haechannie, I really need to go.” You struggle to slip yourself away from his long arms, holding back a laugh as you do it, and you almost reach the end of his bed but your boyfriend easily hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest.

After not seeing each other for five days, you could finally see your boyfriend with his dazzling bright smile in person when he picked you up after work on a Saturday evening. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed him until he snatched you back into his embrace, intoxicating you with his amazing scent and airy laughter that sounds like music to your ears. It was a good thing being separated for a few days like that because Haechan became much more clingy in the most adorable way, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Even during sex, he was all giggly and soft, gently asking you how you feel, whether he was being too fast, or simply just telling you how beautiful you look even when you were pretty much exhausted from work. It was a nice change.

Both of you are still pretty much naked from the morning shower you just took together—or rather, the morning shower you took when suddenly your boyfriend came barging in, greasily saying, “My, my, there’s a naked lady in my shower. This must be my lucky day,” and ended up moaning against your mouth instead of washing the soap off your body.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, smiling into the kiss just like you do and you let him part your lips with his, slowly slipping his tongue in and tasting the roof of your mouth. “Oh man, I must be a freak for being so turned on from the fact that you’re wearing my shampoo.”

“You’ve always been a freak,” you snicker, pushing his face away with your palm. “Now, get off me. Jaemin can come back any second.”

“Jaemin’s too busy sucking Jeno’s morning wood, I’m sure. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Well, my shift is starting in thirty minutes.”

“Which leaves us twenty-nine minutes and fifty seconds to get each other off and ten seconds for you to get ready.” He lowly chuckles, his voice still sounding quite deep from sleep as he nips against the column of your neck.

“I’m serious…” You can tell that your voice becomes way less convincing. It’s just Haechan feels so warm and he smells so good, you have to literally offer your best effort to deny him and his touches. You’re still in the middle of putting in that so-called effort when you notice he’s sucking on the supple skin, to the point it begins to hurt a little bit. “Don’t suck too hard! You’ll leave bruises and I am not gonna wear a scarf again.”

“Good,” he murmurs against your skin. “So everyone will know you’re mine.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You sigh, tangling your fingers around his hair, arching your back to press your body closer to him. “You can be too possessive sometimes, do you know that?”

“Any man would if their girlfriend is as pretty as you,” he replies, pulling away from you a little so he can bore his eyes into yours. “Stay with me today.”

As much as you want to, especially with that hooded eyes looking at you with so much passion and desire, you have to be the responsible adult for today. “I can’t, Haechannie.”

“Noona~” His serious demeanor falters, and the whiny brat that he is comes back to the surface again. “Pleaseeee~ I’m lonely and I’m hard, can’t you just be kind to me for just one day?”

“Are you using your aegyo on me to get a quickie? Seriously?”

“What, it’s not working?” He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sexy smirk and his eyebrow raised seductively. “I thought aegyo was your thing.”

No, but your goddamn smirk and eyebrow raise surely are. “Fuck, okay, ten minutes. Can we finish in ten minutes?”

“I can guarantee that you will.” His smirk grows wider, licking his lower lip. “But I’m not sure if you can make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You push him with both hands until he falls back to the bed, with you straddling his lap. “I’m going to make you take your words back, Lee Donghyuck, you better be prepared.”

***

You’ve broken two plates so far, and you’re sure you’re about to be fired if you even do a tiny mistake in the next hour but you try to keep yourself calm and composed and promise yourself to do better. It’s not that you’re a lousy waiter—okay, maybe a bit from the lack of experience—but the restaurant you’re working in can be surprisingly packed during lunch hours and it’s really taking all that you have to carry three porcelain plates on a tray as you walk on high heels that are killing you in every step you take. You often complain about the blisters at the back of your heels when you sit next to Haechan in his car, which usually ends up with him massaging your feet, while mumbling, “See, this is why you should’ve agreed with me when I told you about buying dildos. I would work my ass off to pay for that, and you can just lie around in my room all day.”

You’re getting better at your job the more days go by, and you’re much confident now in talking with customers. You’re already standing pretty in your uniform with a menu book in your arms, ready to greet the next customer but when the front door opens, all of your professionalism just goes straight out of the window.

“No way…” Your jaw hangs loosely on your face, eyes blinking twice in surprise. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. There, walking through the entrance door of the restaurant, is your ex-boyfriend from high school, Jeong Jaehyun. Dressed perfectly in a light blue buttoned-up shirt and a pair of black khaki pants, Jaehyun looks much, much better than how you remembered him to be. His dark hair stands in contrast to his pale skin, his veins appearing along his wrists and you have to remind yourself to stop staring and proceed with your work.

You take hesitant steps to meet him, swallowing your nervous breath and hoping that you don’t look as awkward as you think. You almost trip on your own feet when you notice Jaehyun looking back at you, his eyes widening in surprise before his lips turn upward into that gentle smile that reminds you of how he used to be back in high school. Maybe some things never change.

“Hi,” you greet with an awkward smile on your face.

“Hey.” The way his eyes droop slightly when he sees you feels nostalgic, and perhaps he’s much taller now because you have to look up to meet his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you. It’s been a while.”

“You’re right,” you reply, chuckling a little to mask how tense you really are. “Would you like me to take you to your seat?”

“Oh no, I won’t be long,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to talk to the manager for a sec.”

You furrow your eyebrows, trying your best not to get distracted with the way his hair ruffles almost perfectly under his touch. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, just wanted to see the latest financial report.” He smiles, showcasing his teeth. “My grandfather owns this place, and I’m helping him take care of the business while he’s overseas.”

Fuck. “A-ah, is that so?” Meeting him once as a customer is already painfully awkward enough for you to bear, but actually working for him?!

“I won’t bother you, I promise,” Jaehyun immediately adds, “I wasn’t aware that you work here, actually. Has it been long since you started?”

“About two weeks.” You fidget on your feet, having the hardest time making eye contact with him. “And I’m not very good at this.”

“Wait, are you the one who keeps breaking plates?”

You wince. “Yes. Can you please not fire me? I’ll pay for them, I promise.”

And Jaehyun laughs, his deep voice booming into the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for them myself if that’s what it takes to keep you around.” He says his lines so naturally that it surprises you both when the words finally sink in. “I—I mean,” he clears his throat, “It’s just really been a while since I last saw you so I thought we should really catch up on things. How are you?”

“I’m—”

“Boss,” your manager suddenly comes to interrupt, carrying some paper sheets in her arms. “These are the reports you wanted. I can e-mail you the rest if you need more details.” And when she sees you standing next to Jaehyun with the worst looking smile you’ve ever had on your face, she squints her eyes menacingly at you, “What did you do this time?”

“She didn’t do anything,” Jaehyun hastily answers before you can even form a word of protest. “She’s a dear friend of mine. It’s been a while since we talked, so do you mind if I borrow her for a while?”

Your manager seems utterly shocked and you kind of dance happily in your mind because she’s been kind of mean to you—though you were the one who gave her the reasons to be—and seeing her speechless, only able to mumble out a small, “S-sure,” before she trails away back to her office like this becomes the highlight of your day.

“Thank you,” you say to him, not sure why but it feels right.

“Let me know if she bullies you again,” he says, gently patting you on the head and you can feel his fingers slowly brush your bangs off your temple. It seems like he’s unaware of what he’s doing and you can understand why because that’s just his habit, even from the time when you hadn’t started dating yet. You remember the time when he said he liked your eyes—he thought they were beautiful, and hiding them under your bangs like that was a shame.

You take a step back, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Umm…”

“Right, sorry,” he fumbles with his hands, the tip of his ears growing red. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Can we just sit and talk?”

You smile, genuinely this time. He really hasn’t changed despite his appearance. “Sure.”

***

Jaehyun doesn’t visit the restaurant every day and you don’t really expect him to, but when he does, he always spares some time to talk to you privately—usually during your break time so your manager can stop throwing ice daggers from her eyes at you.

“I’ve tried to call you after graduation,” he confesses as he takes you out for some coffee at the nearest cafe. Your shift is over and you’re waiting for Haechan to pick you up but he’s running late because he has to take a quiz that he missed from skipping the class the previous week—you guess it had something to do with him pulling an all-nighter playing Overwatch again—and you told him to take his time.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Several times, actually, but I couldn’t get connected.”

“Maybe you called after I lost my phone,” you reply, taking a sip of your hot latte and wincing when it nearly scalds your tongue. “I had to change my number. I lost my contacts and everything.”

“That makes sense. Would it be okay if I ask for your numbers now?”

“Only for business purposes,” you tease, and he grins back, almost boyishly.

“Only for business purposes,” he confirms, “Just so I can give you a heads-up when I’m about to fire you.”

You gasp, half-amused, half-terrified. “Please tell me you’re joking.” And he only responds with another laugh. Talking with Jaehyun is easy and comforting, and he really listens to what you’re saying like a loving older brother taking care of his sister. It’s a nice change considering it’s always you who have to act like the mature one when having a conversation with Haechan—not that it isn’t good. It just can get quite tiring after some time.

Jaehyun is in the middle of walking you back to your workplace when he tells you stories about the things he did after graduation, and how he’s planning to continue with his study overseas to get a master’s degree in business management as soon as he’s done with his work here. You’re so entranced with his story that you barely notice your boyfriend waiting with his back pressed against the side of his car, eyes busy staring at his phone screen.

“Haechannie, you’re here!” You run to his spot, a grin spreading wide on your face before you lean up and kiss his cheek.“When did you get here?”

“Noonaaaaa,” he pouts, voice becoming whiny as usual. Compared to how he acts, he’s dressed maturely in a white shirt and a black leather jacket, his silver necklace hanging low on his neck. It takes you a good five seconds to ogle at his amazing looks while telling your heart not to get too excited. At least not until you get back at the dorm so you can rip that shirt off him with your own hands. “I’ve been calling you three times already. Where have you been?”

“You have?” You immediately check on your phone, noticing that yes, in fact, he did call you three times. You didn’t notice before because your phone was on silent. “I’m sorry, I forgot to switch it back after work. Did you wait long?”

“A bit,” he pushes his bottom lip out but it soon turns into a cheeky grin. “But nothing a kiss can’t fix.”

“Haechannie.” You pat him softly on his cheek. “We’ve got company.” And at that, he begins to widen his line of sight—because he usually just focuses on you and forgets his surroundings—and spots Jaehyun standing a few meters behind you with his hands buried deep within the pockets of his pants.

“Oh,” he comments, acting nonchalant though you notice by the slight raise of his eyebrow that he’s already annoyed by his presence. “Who are you?”

It’s kind of rude to suddenly ask for his name, especially in the cold tone Haechan is using and Jaehyun’s lips twitch at his words. “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Well, Jeong Jaehyun,” Haechan says with mockery on his tone, straightening his posture and you wonder whether it’s because he feels slightly inferior to Jaehyun’s height. “My girlfriend and I would like some privacy from now on, so if you can just run along now, that’d be great.”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder, gasping in disbelief before you turn around to face the other man. “I’m sorry, he can be quite rude sometimes but I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“Meant it with all my heart.”

“Be quiet.” And even Haechan can tell for his own good that he shouldn’t push your buttons further than that.

“It’s okay, I have to go anyway,” Jaehyun casually says, smiling angelically like how he always does though his eyes don’t really play along. “Your boyfriend is cute. How old are you? Does your mom know you’re still playing outside at this hour?”

Oh my God, not you too. You immediately grab Haechan’s hand to stop him before he flings himself forward and throws an arm toward the other man. You can see him clenching his jaw, almost baring his teeth when Jaehyun laughs quietly to himself, saying, “I’m just kidding. Have a good night, you two,” before he walks back to the restaurant, most likely to have another business talk with the manager.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Haechan blurts out, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. You stroke his arm, trying to soothe him down but what he does is relocating his glare on you instead, almost yelling, “Why were you with him? How many times have you guys seen each other? And why on earth did you take his side?!”

You’re too tired to care, to be honest, let alone answering him. You’re also suffering from the cold of the night, wanting desperately to climb into Haechan’s car and put on the heater to warm yourself up. “I’ll explain on our way back,” you sniffle, squeezing his hand. “Can we get inside the car? Please? I’m freezing.”

You can tell he’s still very much upset but his gaze softens when he sees puffs of air flowing from your chapped lips and your nose turning red. He sighs into the air but opens the door for you. He doesn’t really talk until he has his engine started, and you can practically see steam coming out from his ears as he drives into the night.

“Have you had dinner yet?” You ask, trying to keep as casual as you can.

“No.”

“Should we order something—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“O… kay…” You hold yourself back from sighing too loud. He’s testing your patience again, but it’s fine, you’re the mature one. You can handle this. “We’ll just go straight back to my place then. I’m sure I can make you something. I think I still have some pasta with—”

“I think I’m just gonna go back to my room right after I drop you off.” His words don’t hurt as much as the tone he’s using. You’re trying to patch things up even though you’re sure you haven’t done anything wrong but he’s not even trying to apologize about how rude he acted earlier. You can’t help but snap, probably because your fatigue is taking its toll. You figure you can act mature any other time, but not today.

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” You can feel your voice rising and it forces him to sneaks a glance at you but only for a split second before he brings back his eyes on the road again. “I’ve been trying to be nice to you but you keep on acting like a brat—”

“Oh, of course, now you have a problem with me being a brat.” He grits his teeth, sinking his nails into the steering wheel. “I think we both know that’s pretty much how I act around you—around anyone, really—and if I remember it clearly, you said being a brat was part of my charm. That was, of course, before you met this oh-so-mature Jung fucking Jaehyun and suddenly, now, I’m fucking annoying.”

“I didn’t just meet him, Hyuck.” You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been friends with him since high school.”

He clicks his tongue in aggravation, quietly adding, “Friends that fucked each other whenever your parents weren’t around, I’m sure.” And he probably didn’t mean his words to be heard because he just said them out of spite, but you did hear him and it makes your blood sparks in fury.

“Actually, yes,” you jeer back, “We did. He was the one who took my virginity away, just so you know and—WHOA!”

The sudden turn of the wheels makes you yelp and scramble to wrap your fingers tightly around your seatbelt as if you were hanging for dear life, and Haechan suddenly stomps his feet on the brakes, messily parking his car on the side of the street and earning a lot of angry car honks from the drivers behind him in return.

“What?!” He shouts, eyes wide, completely ignoring the passerby or the fact that you’re still trying to catch your breath. “You had sex with him?!”

“Once, Donghyuck, Jesus Christ!” You almost yank every strand of your hair out of your head. “Just once! And I never did that with anyone else until I met you!”

“I can’t believe you never told me this! And now you just hang around with him behind my back?!”

“What’s there to tell?! It’s in the past, way back when I didn’t even know your name. It’s not like you tell me things like this too. I don’t have problems with you sleeping with hundreds of girls before you met me.”

The sudden silence that surrounds you snap you back to reality and you regret everything you just said because you know you didn’t mean it. Well, it certainly has been bugging you for quite some time whenever you think about how easy and casual he’s always been when it comes to sex—not to mention how experienced he is—so you can’t help but wonder. You do understand that it’s not fair blurting about it to him like this, though. Especially not in this situation.

And the way he just suddenly becomes mute almost makes you shudder.

“Hyuck, I didn’t mean—”

“So that’s how you think of me?” He asks, voice low and deep. “Is that the reason why you’re seeing him? Because you don’t trust me?”

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you almost scream from all this frustration you’re venting out. “This is getting out of hand. Okay, first, that was wrong of me to say that and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. And second, stop being so jealous—I was only out with him to get some coffee. We no longer have feelings for each other, I can assure you that.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “Sure. Whatever.”

“Hyuck, he’s my boss! I was just being polite—”

“Well, that’s just fucking great, isn’t it? No wonder you keep insisting on taking this job. It’s not even about the money now, is it?” He slams his hand against the steering wheel, groaning out, “I’m so fucking stupid,” before he throws his head to the side, glaring at the scenery outside his window instead of you.

There’s silence hanging in the air again and you take a deep breath to calm yourself as much as you can because you know where this is going. You just hope you’re wrong. “Why does it sound like you’re accusing me of cheating on you?”

“Because maybe deep down, that’s what you’re doing?” He’s not even looking at you when he says it, but the bitterness in his voice is clear and it’s loud enough to finally tweak the final string of patience you have left in you.

So you grab your purse, carry your jacket in one arm and step down from the car. “I’m taking a cab,” you say and when he still doesn’t look at you, you add, “Come talk to me when you’re mature enough to have this conversation.”

And not knowing your own strength, you slam the door until his ears begin to ring.

***

It’s the worst fight you’ve ever had, not just with him but with anyone else too. You’re more the type that avoids situations like this—one that says sorry even when you know you’re not doing anything wrong just to reduce the tension, so this fight you’re having with Haechan has been ruining your mood for a whole damn week since day one. And the fact that he doesn’t come to apologize or even send a text or two is driving you insane.

You can’t help but to dwell in his way of thinking, trying to see whether it’s really your fault that this is happening. Yes, maybe you should’ve explained better, but he wasn’t really giving you the chance to do it, was he? And yes, maybe you should’ve told him about you hanging out with Jaehyun every now and then or the fact that he’s your boss but you just couldn’t find the right timing before. Well, it’s certainly too late to start now.

Should I call him…?

Because you miss him. You miss Haechan so badly. You miss his bratty smile, you miss his annoying whine, you miss his stupid dazzling smile, you miss his scent, his kiss, his embrace—everything about him. You didn’t realize how close he was to you—already becoming a big part of your life—and you just really notice it now when he’s completely out of your sight.

“Fuck this.” You’re in the middle of searching his name in your contacts and about to press dial when suddenly you get his message.

Can we meet tomorrow?

It’s really weird that a simple text can make your heart race and almost send you jumping in delight. Trying to keep your heart rate back to normal, you type back.

Of course. What time? Where?

You wait for his reply and it seems like the time suddenly slows down where seconds feel like hours. You nibble at your bottom lip, hesitating at first but sending it anyway.

I miss you, Haechannie.

Your heart starts hammering against your ribcage again. A lot of thoughts begin entering your mind at the same time, making you worry about what if he wants to meet me because he wants to break up with me? What if he doesn’t miss me and he’s grossed out with my text? What if—

His reply arrives with a slight ding coming from your phone, and with shaky hands, you open his text.

I’ll text you the time and place tomorrow morning.

There’s a disappointment that bubbles up inside your chest but the next text from him erases all of that almost instantly.

I miss you too, Noona. Good night.

And you think that maybe tonight, you can finally have a good sleep.

***

“Can you fill in for tonight?”

It’s the first thing your manager said to you the second you stepped inside the restaurant. You haven’t even taken your jacket yet, and it’s really rare to see your manager walking around the place on a Sunday morning but here she is, and she’s already ordering things around.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry. “Pardon?”

“There will be a banquet tonight for the Jeong family and we need every waiter we can get. I know you’re lousy at your job but Jaehyun-Sajangnim seems to like you so I hope you can stick longer for a few hours.”

“I…” You wet your lower lip anxiously. “I can’t. I already promised someone—”

“Look, this is not a request. It’s an order.” She seems like she’s running out of patience. “But I’ll pay handsomely for your time. I think you need the money to pay for those two plates you broke anyway. You know how expensive they are.”

You wince. “Yes, Ma’am.” It’s not like she’s leaving you with any other option. You figure you can call Haechan later during your break time. It’s still not confirmed anyway, your date with him. You’ll think of a way to make it up to him.

It’s only for a few hours anyway, right?

I’ll just text him now. You dip your hand into your purse, trying to find your iPhone as fast as you can. You run your fingers along the screen, typing letters with your thumbs.

Haechannie, something came up and I have to stay longer at work. I’ll see you later tonight at your place and we can talk then.

“What are you doing standing around like that?” Your manager suddenly shouts and you almost drop your phone in surprise. “Go and change your uniform now, we’re opening the place in ten minutes!”

“Y-yes, Ma’am!” You fumble with your steps, throwing your phone back into your purse in a hurry. You inwardly sigh. Today is going to be a long day.

I’m sorry, Haechannie.

***

“Great work today,” Jaehyun says when most of his family members have left the restaurant. You didn’t realize how big and wealthy his family was so it amazed you that one family could occupy the whole seatings they have in this place. There were more than thirty people in the room before and you had to change your high heels into a pair of flat shoes so you can run from one table to another while carrying several plates at once.

“Not really, I almost broke another plate today,” you respond with a sigh, which earns a low chuckle in return. Jaehyun has his back leaning against the wall just an arms reach away from the front door, waiting for you to finish shoving all your belongings into your bag before he curls his fingers around the doorknob and twists it open.

“Thanks,” you say, almost sheepishly because it looks weird, no matter how you see it—your boss is opening the door for you. “Stop being so nice, Jae, you’re making other staff jealous.”

“But I do this to all my staff,” Jaehyun snickers, following after your trail.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hey,” he calls, placing his hand on your shoulder so you’ll stop on your track and turn around to face him. “Thank you.”

You raise your eyebrow questioningly. “For what?”

“For acting like how you normally do around me,” he explains, smiling a little bit bashfully. “For not being so awkward after our break-up.”

“Oh… Well…” You try to focus your gaze somewhere else, suddenly finding the silver watch you wear around your wrist entertaining. “It’s been years since then, I think we both have moved on by now, right?”

There’s a thick tension growing between the two of you and you almost beg him to say something before it starts to suffocate you.

“Sure,” he says, but the pressure in his tone speaks otherwise. You look up to meet his eyes, expecting him to smile and bring another topic into the conversation, but all he does is just gazing at you with these gentle, almost longing eyes that make your heart stops for a split second.

You know this can’t go any further.

“Well, uhh,” Jaehyun clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, perhaps feeling rather embarrassed himself. “It’s already late. Do you want me to escort you back to your place?”

And you find it hard to form a sentence, still somewhat baffled from the way he’s acting around you, and you’re so unfocused that when another voice enters your hearing, it shocks you down to your spine.

“I’ll be taking her from here,” Haechan says, startling you both and you turn around so fast on your heel to face him that you almost stumble forward. Your boyfriend is standing with one hand carrying a black suit and another one digging inside the pocket of his pants, dressed nicely in a white buttoned up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has the top two buttons of his shirt loosened, showing a glimpse of his collar bones and the silver necklace he usually hangs around his neck. His short brown hair is parted to the side, slightly pushed back to showcase his temple. You’ve never seen him dressed so sharp and elegantly before since the first day you met him and you can’t help but feel a little bit starstruck from the way he looks. But you soon realize that there must be a reason why he’s so dressed up and you feel terrible because you don’t know what it is.

What day is it today?

“Haechan—”

The way he grabs your hand shows how agitated he actually is despite the calm facade he places on his face, and it’s glaringly possessive the way he drags you to match his step on the way to his car but you follow him without a word, not even sparing a glance at Jaehyun who’s looking at him as if he just stole something important from him. Haechan opens the door to the passenger seat, and you climb in with your heart thrumming loud against your chest.

Haechan walks to the other side without making eye contact with Jaehyun but even at that point, your ex-boyfriend doesn’t dare to say a word or make a move, probably because he knows he has no right to do so. Haechan does not look angry and neither does he act like it but the quietness that fills the space between you, even when his car engine is blaring noisily outside, speaks louder than everything that he does.

“Umm.” You suddenly feel parched, your throat burning with every word you try to form. “T-thank you for picking me up.” You’re about to flinch from how terrible you just sounded. “I thought you were waiting at the dorm. Didn’t you get my text?”

It takes a few seconds that feel like forever for him to answer. “I don’t know, did you send me one?” He simply asks, voice flat and nonchalant, as he switches the gears of his car.

Did I not? You gulp in horror and begin to frantically search for your phone in your purse. Your heart almost leaps out from your chest when you see your phone is dead, probably ran out of battery sometimes during your hectic hours. You didn’t check on it before because you thought that Haechan most likely had seen your text and was waiting for you at the dorm, so you decided to just run in a hurry without texting him that your shift had ended. You were also busy talking with Jaehyun and felt it wouldn’t be polite for you to check on your phone while he was around.

But, as you connect your phone to your power bank, turning it on, and run your thumbs along the screen, you notice one thing: you didn’t send him anything.

“I’m—” A shiver runs down your spine. “I’m sure I texted you before—why—” You remember how your manager suddenly interrupted you when you were about to send the text. You must have forgotten to press send, and seeing how there are suddenly a lot of messages coming to your phone at once from him makes your heart drop to the floor.

I’ve made a reservation at Boccalino at 7 p.m. I know how you’ve always wanted to go there. Wear something nice.

Where are you now? Are you still at work? Do you want me to pick you up?

You’re probably busy at work. I’ll just see you at our table, okay? Don’t be late.

I haven’t heard from you. Where are you? I’m on my way to the restaurant to make sure our reservation is still on.

All my calls are going straight to voicemails. Where are you?

You’re an hour late. Where are you?!

You can feel the tremble in your fingertips as you hold your phone, your eyes running back and forth in horror. Haechan still doesn’t speak a word, focusing his eyes entirely on the road that lays in front of him.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Even though you know you’re already so out of line and probably won’t be forgiven anytime soon, you still apologize because what else can you say? “I didn’t realize my phone was dead. And I was sure I’d texted you but—”

“It’s fine,” he says as he props his elbow against his window, rubbing the side of his temple with his fingertips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And with that, the conversation ends. Your thoughts are running fast, trying to come up with a better apology or find a way to patch things up but you can’t. The more plans you make, the more you hate yourself for being so stupid and ruin this whole thing for him. The drive back to your dorm is filled with nothing but silence, and you spend the entire time counting the street light that glows faintly on the side of the road.

You do notice something, though. Haechan’s phone keeps on making little sounds, notifying him that he’s receiving text messages and chats. There was also a phone call which he ignored even when the street light was red, only saying, “I’ll just call back later,” when you nervously ask him about it.

It’s when he walks you back to your dorm, that you begin to gain the courage to ask about it. “You’re getting awfully a lot of texts today.”

“They just want to congratulate me,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets so you can’t take a hold of any of them as you walk beside him.

“On what?”

“My birthday.”

You wish the earth could just swallow you whole because how fucking ignorantly stupid can you be? It’s the sixth of June today, and you were so busy dealing with the fight and minding your own business that you forgot the birthday of the most important person in your life right now. You can feel how your legs almost give out under your weight, your head’s spinning.

And apparently, you’re doing it again, so lost in your own thoughts that Haechan has to say, “We’re here,” to snap you back to reality. You’re now standing gawkily in front of the door to your room, palms getting sweaty from how nervous you are. Haechan murmurs something about seeing you later and you’re about to burst into tears from how terrible you feel for him so you hastily grab him by his wrist, fingers almost sinking into his skin from how desperate you’re being.

“Stay with me,” you beg with quivers in your voice. “Please, just—I need to talk to you.”

Haechan stares at you with cold eyes, his jaw clenching slightly. But he doesn’t pull back his arm and follows your trail with heavy steps as you step inside your room. He closes the door behind him and leans his back against it, still not saying anything.

You’re so occupied with trying to form a coherent sentence that you forget to be thankful about how your roommate is away for the weekend again, providing you the opportunity to have the entire room for yourself. You decide to not make any excuses and apologize for every little dumb thing you’ve been doing for the whole day—no, for a whole week even, since the time your fight started. But no matter what you say, Haechan is staring at you with lifeless eyes, as if he’s just too tired to listen—as if he just no longer cares.

And that scares the life out of you.

“Hyuck, please,” you whisper, closing the distance between you until you can feel his warm breath caressing your cheek. You have your palm pressing against the side of his face, “Say something.” You know it’s not right, but you lean in for a kiss. It’s not just because you’re desperate to pull an emotion out of him; it’s more because you miss him so terribly so, it’s driving you crazy.

Haechan has his eyes closed by instinct but he doesn’t kiss back, only letting your lips linger on him, sharing his breath. And though it feels like there’s a javelin slowly sinking into your chest, you try again, kissing him with more passion, hooking your arm around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan tears himself away, his gaze turning dark as he stares at you and you look at him back with desperation in your eyes.

“Haecha—”

It’s like something snaps inside him and he suddenly no longer has control over his own free will, because Haechan is now pushing your body against the door, slamming your spine against the surface none too gently with his hands on each side of your head, lips chasing after yours. You let out a gasp, both from the shock and the pain that stings from the back of your head, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue delving in to explore the inside of your mouth. His fingers trail down from your cheeks to your jaw, before they rest on the sides of your neck, his fingertips probing against your veins. You’re not sure whether he does it unconsciously from the sheer excitement or something else but the way his hand is holding you by the neck, his fingers low key choking you make your adrenaline runs faster.

He doesn’t give you the chance to process every single thing that’s happening, or even breathe, for that matter. The next thing you know, he already has his hands running down to your thighs, pulling them up so you have no other choice but to tangle your legs around his waist and groan when he presses your hips together. Hearing the sound of his name tumbling down your lips in a desperate, needy moan, Haechan groans at the back of his throat, his hands moving up to palm your breasts before they start to struggle with your shirt.

You’re doing the same thing, just as eager to get him out of his white shirt so you can latch your lips on his smooth sun-kissed skin. But unlike you who struggle to unbutton his shirt one by one, Haechan’s patience is wearing thin so he ends up just ripping your uniform, buttons clattering down to the floor.

“Wait, Hyuck—” You’re forced to swallow whatever it is you’re trying to say when Haechan sinks his teeth down to the skin that connects your neck to your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your shirt down to expose more of your bare skin. Your whole body shudders, clutching to him with every strength you have. It hurts, the way he bites and nibbles along your sensitive skin, but at the same time, it sends electricity down to every inch of your body.

“Do you have any idea how fucking pissed I am right now?” He says in a low, dangerous voice as he gnaws around your earlobe. “Turn around.”

With his nails sinking into your hips, he forces you to turn on your heel, pressing the side of your face against the door and tears your shirt away from your body. He doesn’t immediately take off your bra like he usually does, and instead focusing first on slipping his fingers underneath the band, thumbs glossing over your hardened nipples as he applies wet kisses on your nape. You almost let out a sob when his hand travels south, raking his fingers against your stomach before he takes off your skirt in such a hurry, leaving you in nothing but your black stockings and your laced panties.

Your entire body jolts when he slips a hand between your legs, rubbing you over your underwear before he suddenly pushes the fabric down and runs his fingertips along your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning your neck. “I’m surprised you like being treated like this.” But when you cry out his name, begging for him to stop teasing you already, he chuckles lowly. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

You’re sure that you’re just reacting this way because it’s him and not anybody else and you want to tell him that but you can barely form a word with him rubbing his fingertips along your clit. “You’re actually quite dirty, aren’t you?” He brings two of his fingers to your lips, forcing you to suck them into your mouth and you oblige, knowing what he’s intending to do. You coat them with as much saliva as you can before he brings his hand down to your heat again, this time inserting one finger into your entrance with another one following soon after.

You hiss his name under your breath, becoming a little lightheaded from all this sensation you’re having at once. “What do you want me to do?” He asks tauntingly, knowing he’s in charge of everything.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, eyes tightly shut at the feeling of him finger fucking you to oblivion. “I want you inside me, Hyuck, fuck.”

“Maybe in a few minutes.” His teasing tone is back but it’s different. It’s almost menacing this time, somewhat heartless. He picks up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you until you find yourself biting your lip to contain your sob. “Do you know what I want?” He carves his words against your skin, taking a handful of your hair with his other free hand and yanking it back so you can’t help but face the ceiling. His lips are hovering dangerously close against your ear. “I want to fuck you raw. We’ve never done that before, have we? I want to come inside you—want to see my cum dripping down your thighs when I’m finished with you.”

Fuck. You almost cry from the temptation. “Then do it. I don’t care just—” You arch your back, sinking yourself down to his fingers, moaning against the side of his neck. “Please, just fuck me, Hyuck.”

“Good girl,” he replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice but you don’t care. He can be as cocky as he wants for the night because you secretly like it. You like how confident he is during sex, how passionate and sexy he can get, and how desperate and uncontrolled he becomes at the end. You can feel your stomach flip at the anticipation, especially when you hear him working on his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down only low enough for him to free himself.

“Let me fuck your mouth first,” he demands and you find yourself succumbing to his orders, turning around to face him before you drop to your knees, the tip of his cock protruding against your lips.

Haechan is still holding himself back, you’re sure, because he lets you take your own pace at first but his dominating persona comes back almost immediately when you only give him tentative licks against his slit. “Open up,” he orders, his fingers finding home in your hair and you loosen up your jaw to take him deeper.

Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes from how hard he’s hitting the back of your throat but you try to keep up. He moves his hips, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. When you feel him twisting his fingers around the strands of your hair, you look up to see his expression. Haechan has his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted in a silent moan and you hum proudly to yourself when he brings his eyes down to meet yours. They’re glazed with lust and he’s so sexy like this with his breathing ragged, soft moans flowing like music to your ears. And he’s probably feeling the same about you, from the way he pushes the bangs out of your eyes, taking every detail of your face as you hollow your cheeks, swallowing when his taste falls upon your tongue.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, “You look so perfect like this. You’re so fucking sexy, do you know that?” You hum, running your tongue along the prominent vein, giving kitten licks around the tip. Something gleams in his eyes and suddenly he commands you to stand up and pushes your body against the wall again, face first.

“Do you know how excited I was for today?” He grabs you by the waist, pushing his palm against your shoulder blades so you’ll bend lower, and positions himself against your entrance from behind. “I wanted to celebrate my birthday with you—just with you, Noona—even after our fight, I still wanted to spend it with you—”

“I know,” you gasp, thighs trembling when he rubs his tip against your folds. “I’m sorry—I was too busy with—“

“With work?” He taunts, “Or with that guy you’ve been seeing?”

“No—” A sudden yelp flows out of your mouth when he abruptly pushes himself entirely inside of you in one quick motion, his nails digging into the skin of your hips. Haechan moans a tad louder, much breathier, with his eyebrows knitted together in ecstasy. He’s more sensitive now since he’s not using a condom, directly feeling how wet and hot you are around him, how every clench makes him lose his mind and you can feel him twitching inside you. “Haechan—wait—”

He thrusts forward with such brute force, you find yourself pressed against the door. The dorm is quiet and with the way he’s slamming his hips against yours, the door making rhythmic banging noises against its frames, you’re sure you’re going to be noticed sooner or later.

“The bed—” You gasp, searching for the hands he has on your hips. “Let’s move to the bed—”

“Later,” he groans, his mind sinking in the way your heat is enveloping him.

“People can—” You have your eyes tightly shut when his thrusts get stronger. “They can hear us, Hyuck—”

He tangles his hand around your locks, making a messy ponytail out of them so he can yank on your hair as he rocks his hips faster. “I don’t fucking care,” he growls, “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

It feels fucking amazing the way he’s all breathless and rough, fucking you senselessly as if the world is ending, and it’s not long before your legs start to give up on you, quivering under the sensation.

“Fuck,” Haechan takes a sharp intake of breath, pulling you back against him when you’re about to fall. “Tired already, babe?” His chuckles are unfamiliar to your ears, as if he was mocking instead of teasing but you can’t really comment on it because he’s now pushing you down to the floor, forcing you to stay on all fours. “Now, now, what do we do?” He asks, spreading your thighs but holds your ass firmly in the air. “I’m just getting started.”

Every thrust of his hip feels like fire running all over your body and you can’t believe how good he is at hitting that particular spot deep inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep your voice down and Haechan notices it so he leans close, his chest pressing against your spine and you feel his lips and teeth caressing the crook of your neck as he speaks.

“Stop holding back your voice.” His voice sounds sultry, almost sinful to your ears. “I’ve told you before, right? I like hearing you say my name when we do this. Let me hear you moan.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want anyone to hear—“

“Well,” he doesn’t even let you finish. “I guess I’ll just have to force it out of you then.”

He slows down his pace, and instead of giving you fast, shallow thrusts, he focuses his strength on making each thrust hard and deep. You can feel your breathing being knocked out of your lungs, your toes curling in pleasure and if he keeps doing this, you know you’re not gonna last long. Your orgasm hits you so hard, a whimper falling from your mouth the way he likes it, and your body begins to shake.

Haechan laughs quietly against your ear. “You came, didn’t you? It feels so good—you feel so good around my cock.” He grabs you by the chin and roughly angles your head to face him. He kisses you hard, leaving you even more breathless than you already are before he says, “It’s my turn now.”

Haechan flips you to your back, spreading your legs wide as he sits on his knees, holding your ankles in the air like how he did the first time you had sex with him. Maybe it’s his favorite position, almost splitting your body in half, and seeing your face and your breasts bouncing up and down with every movement of his hips. You’re still dazed, reeling in the afterglow when Haechan pushes back into you again without warning, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, his lips parted forming your name between his breathy moans.

“I’ll never get tired of how you look when I fuck you like this,” he says, smirking in the sexiest way you’ve ever seen him do. “You’re so goddamn irresistible, you know that?”

It’s frightening how different and rough he’s being right now, and you’re about to cry out because you miss him—you miss the way he used to be. The adorable, annoying little tease that he was. How can you bring him back?

“Haechannie,” you call out, voice soft and quiet almost in a whisper. “I love you.”

His movement stops almost immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. He locks his gaze back with yours, his grip on your legs becoming loose. “What?”

“I love you,” you repeat, placing your legs down so you can sit up from your position. Your back feels sore, screaming in pain but you try not to wince. You reach out to grab his face, running your thumb along his lower lip. “I love you, Lee Donghyuck.” You kiss him gently, merely pressing your lips against his and you can feel how his body stiffen under your touch. “So calm down, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, as long as you let me.”

Haechan is still very much speechless and you decide to take control. You carefully push him down so he can sit back on the floor before you climb into his lap. You kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair before you slide down, enveloping him once again. There’s a small moan escaping his lips, which you immediately capture with your own and his hands find their way back to your hips again.

“That’s not fair,” he says, his cheeks reddening slightly though he’s still scowling at you. “You’re just saying that so I won’t be angry with you anymore.”

“That too, but,” you’re interrupted by a moan that departs from your lips, can barely handle the way he twitches inside you. “I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time now. Especially when we fight. I just missed you so much, I couldn’t stand it.”

His pout is growing back on his face, though not as apparent. “Well, whose fault do you think is that?” It’s perfect, the way he moves inside you and it’s driving him crazy whenever you clench your walls around him.

“There’s nothing between me and Jaehyun, I promise you,” you softly murmur as you place open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “I’d never cheat on you, Hyuck. You know that, right?”

He shivers slightly under your touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Still,” he breathes out, “It doesn’t mean I’m fine with you meeting him behind my back.”

“He’s my boss, I wouldn’t be able to avoid him even if I wanted—” You have to end your sentence short when he rubs his thumb against your clit, reeling in the sensation. “Hyuck, you’re going to make me come again at this rate.”

“Good, because I intend to make you come at least three times tonight.” He snickers against your lips. “So you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

His movements become sloppy, going out of rhythm, even more desperate with each thrust and when you whisper with his earlobe between your teeth, “Happy birthday, baby,” he comes undone almost immediately with his face hiding between the slope of your neck.

He lays you down to the floor again, gently this time, before he hovers above you, his arms shaking slightly. “Holy shit,” he exhales, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his temple. “I think I came a lot inside you.”

“Glad I’m taking some pills then,” you reply, smiling a little as you cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the mole under his left eye. “You okay?”

“Are you okay?” He asks instead. “Was I too rough? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Why is it that whenever we have sex, you end up asking me these questions?” You chuckle. “Yes, you were. And yes, I am hurt. My back is killing me.”

“I’m…” There’s a slight panic flitting across his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was kinda hot seeing you all riled up like that. It’s like you turned into a completely different person.” You pull him down by his necklace, murmuring against his lips, “I won’t mind if you fuck me like that again sometimes.”

It’s funny that after all of this that just happened, he actually blushes over your words. Quietly cursing under his breath, he leans back on his heels, slowly pulling out of you and stare intently at how his cum starts to seep out of you.

“Goddamn…” he mumbles, eyes unblinking as if he’s in a trance. “I really did come a lot inside you.”

“Consider that your birthday gift. Also, can you stop looking at me like that—it’s embarrassing.” You don’t usually get embarrassed about sexual stuff, especially now that your boyfriend’s shamelessness kind of rubs off on you, but Haechan really knows how to push your buttons.

Seeing you fidget out of shame, Haechan’s eyes twinkle, his lips forming a teasing grin. “No, wait, let me clean you up.” Despite what he says, he slowly pushes one finger into you, with another one following right after and you part your lips in a gasp but loss for words when you see him playing with his cum that’s mixed with yours, smearing it on the inside parts of your thigh.

“Haechannie,” you gasp, feeling his fingers inside you once again, with his thumb rubbing over your clit. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grins, showcasing his perfect teeth. “I’m going to make you come again. And then you’re going to make me come again.” His face hovers above yours, wetting his bottom lip as he stares lustfully at you. “Since it’s my birthday and you’re obliged to do whatever I want.”

You gulp. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow.

***

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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

Link

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home. (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice. Her own soul felt more numb than anything. To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot.

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute.

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason.

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?" She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home? Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone. Papyrus tried to call them nonstop. Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence. They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them. It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to. These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look. Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away. “Anyway. Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Just. Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah. You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans. If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her. I’m makin’ a great first impression.” He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long. There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I. Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish. “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend. Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted. It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well. Uh. If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not. I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.” It was difficult to tell if he was joking. “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.” She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand. It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with. She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off. To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself. Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway. Still… he’d believed in them. Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery."

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?” Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke.

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel.

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly.

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment.

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius.

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened.

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!"

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook. Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good. I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori. My bro sees the best in everyone.” He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer. It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?” His sockets widened. “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely. It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant. Had he said something weird?

...Oh. He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he? He should know better than to use nicknames without asking. Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.” She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms. For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm. He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh. I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut. Geez, how stupid could he be? Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out. She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza. He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

��Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently.

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had. He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not. Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him. “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic. Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair. In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries. In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates. She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her. She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry. I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.

“They’re lovely. I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.” She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them. Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away. “I was thinking. If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked. Her face seemed to catch fire. That was rather more… forward than she was expecting. Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time. But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed. My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh. She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking. How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said. “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh. “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating. Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed. If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright. Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.” He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room. She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door. Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.” He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand. “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort. The bed’s not even queen sized.” He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets. That was the only fresh thing about the room. Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado. A self-sustaining trash tornado. Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much. Uh. Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months. Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all. Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her. In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.

“‘S no problem, Tori.” A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones. How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything. And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed. Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh. I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.” He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.

He looked up, one brow ridge raised. She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted. It was silly, really. She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.” Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it. “Why not? Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command. Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light. What had she expected him to do? She’d asked him to stay. Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it. She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all. Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure? You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her. “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed. Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress. She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.

The sheets were a barrier in name only. There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing. It felt terrifying. It felt like a mistake. It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore. Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper. “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him. Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself. “Sorry. Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull. Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed. Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you. So. Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body. Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans. If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her. His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine. All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh. “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes. You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently. At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you? For sure.” His gaze darted away. “But it’s crazy. Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?” She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know. Don’t tell Papyrus. He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them. It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away. In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze. She froze. There was no way to play that off gracefully. And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant. Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue. “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning. She was the Queen once more. If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp. She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close. She did not know if sleep would come or not. She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone. For tonight, that was enough.

#soriel #sans #toriel #fic tag #tali writes #soriel week 2021 #soriel week #really glad to finally share this one!

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