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lebrookestore · 6 months

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sixteen | l.dh [part i]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.

Playlist: here

Notes from brooke: hello hi, it's been literally over a year since i posted a full length fic so view this one as something of a peace offering for my inacitivity. it fully started out as a joke drabble concept i thought of out of the blue one day but as i always do, i got carried away and here we are with another angst monster 😭 i wanted to post it as a oneshot but tumblr is a bitch as usual, so here's part one. there were a lot of complications with this fic, but i'm extremely proud of how it turned out and it took a lot of hard work and time to get done so i'm really fucking nervous to put this out there lmao but i hope you guys like it and if so please leave some feedback!! (format of this fic is heavily inspired by forever, interrupted by taylor jenkins reid)

➳ read part ii here!!

prologue – then.

There was something enchanting about the boy with the headphones at the back of the class.

You didn’t think you had seen him before today, which was noteworthy considering your town's excruciatingly small geography. The students in your class were the same ones you had gone to preschool with, and you hadn’t seen a new face within the four yellowed walls of your classroom for all the sixteen years you had lived.

This begged the question - who was this foreign yet beguiling creature that took up one of the ever-sought-out back benches of the dull classroom you inhabited every day of the week? Moreover, you wondered how he had the audacity to have his listen to music while the class was in session.

“Miss L/n?”

Snapping your head back to the front, you bit the inside of your cheek to top yourself from visibly cringing at the shrill voice of your teacher, who was presently eyeing you with an extremely disapproving expression. Much to your displeasure, all eyes were on you within seconds of that unfortunate moment, making you wish you could sink further into the wooden seat you currently occupied.

“Yes?” The moment the word left your mouth, you regretted it. Faking ignorance had never been your strong point, and it wasn’t about to come through for you now.

“Would you like to tell me what you find so interesting at the back or answer the question I just asked?”

You desperately hoped no one could see the warmth infiltrating your cheeks as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, shaking your head as solemnly as possible.

“Sorry Ma’am.”

The teacher shook her head in retirement, as if she was used to picking on you, and moved on to picking on another student, leaving you to slouch in your seat and let out a sigh of relief. You had always hated being the centre of attention, especially in embarrassing situations such as this one, and recovering from them gracefully– just like your non-existent nonchalance– wasn’t in your skillset either

You looked to your side at your classmate who delivered the answer with ease, looking frankly quite bored as she did so. It was the topper of the class– Eunsook– the girl that always seemed to be ahead of everyone else in every class possible. Her words blurred together as your eyes once again wandered to a certain stranger in the back.

Except for this time, he was looking right back at you.

This was somehow much worse than being put on the spot by your teacher, because this? This meant you had been caught on a much more personal level.

And then, as if to make things even worse, the side of his mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement of you, and he brought a hand up to your view, waving it a little in your direction.

Positively horrified, you immediately looked away and made a mental note to never glance in his direction ever again, deciding that pretending to be paying attention in class was a good enough cover-up.

However, this proved to be quite the task, partly due to the fact that economics wasn’t the most exciting subject, and because his face had been imprinted in your mind, from the intensity of his stare to the slightest of smiles that danced on his lips while he looked at you as if you had amused him in some way.

Your teacher's frown deepened upon seeing the interaction and she cleared her throat, giving you a pointed look.

Brilliant.

“Mr Lee, please stand up.”

Oh thank god, it wasn’t you this time. Maybe you had just been imagining her looking at you.

You heard the scraping of the chair legs against the wooden floors and glanced over in its direction, only to realise that it was him she had been called upon.

Well. At least this time you had a good reason to be staring.

It gave you the opportunity to truly take him in all at once, rather than in the pathetic little increments you had to previously resort to throughout the class, sneaking a peek here and there. You studied the boy– dark brown hair that fell into his eyes, which currently wore a look of mild annoyance, striking features etched into his honeyed skin and–

Oh.

He was really cute.

“Would you care to explain why you were distracting Miss L/n?”

Fuck. You had been naive to think that you would have been let off the hook so easily, especially by this particular teacher. If you had caught her attention for the wrong reason even once, you would be the one she put on the spot for the rest of the class, and this time you had the displeasure of being her guinea pig. The worst part about it was that it was absolutely your fault.

Once again, his line of sight travelled to you, before flickering back up at the oh-so-despised teacher and shaking his head.

“It won’t happen again.”

His voice cut through the expectant silence of class and right through you, deep and with a certain patronising lilt to it. It was a stupid thought, but you thought that it suited him perfectly. A pretty voice to compliment a pretty face.

“It better not,” the teacher warned sternly. “Since the opportunity has so conveniently arisen for us, I will now introduce you to the rest. Students, this is Donghyuck, and he’s new to the class.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air for a moment before she motioned for him to sit back down.

Just as she was about to resume her teaching, the bell rang and saved you from any further humiliation. The rustle of books closing and backpacks being unzipped carried through the room, and you joined in, collecting your things and getting to your feet in preparation to leave.

The light patter of footsteps closened in, followed by a voice. “Hey.”

You looked up from arranging your books, fingers digging into the material of your bag when you realised it was him who had approached you in all his glory– this time up close. It also gave you the opportunity to take note of his outfit, a graphic shirt lazily tucked into jeans, and although it was nothing special, somehow the air he held made it seem a lot more special than it was.

Like something about him made the ordinary feel extraordinary.

“Hello,” You managed to get out, putting a hold on that thought as you met his gaze for the third time. Immediately you regretted not having cleared your throat first, despising the hoarse undertone that accompanied the singular word you had uttered. You had hoped that your second impression would surpass the first, that being extremely unfavourable, but it seemed like the world was not on your side when it came to this boy.

This new, mysterious boy you had no right to be so oddly fixated on. A smile painted itself upon his mouth as he did a once over of you, causing you to feel as if the pale blue shirt you had worn that day was much too hot under the collar, and you had to resist the urge to reach up and unbutton the top to cool yourself down. You wished you could tie your hair up among other things, and tucked your hands behind your back, playing with the hair tie you always kept on your right wrist nervously, expelling some of that anxious energy that had invaded your body while keeping him in the dark about it.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Donghyuck.” His name sounded infinitely better when he pronounced it, its two syllables ringing in your ears. Nodding carelessly, you lifted your backpack off from the table and slung one strap over your shoulder.

“I heard.”

That answer earned you an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

Right. It seemed that the manners your mother had drilled into your very psyche had finally come to fruition as you realised he was waiting for you to introduce yourself back.

“I’m Y/n.” Your fingernails dug into the strap of your bag, the sweat accumulating in the palm of your hand brushing off against it. This position was one you had never been in before, nerves all over the place over an attractive stranger, but his unabashedness had unnerved you immensely, leaving you with no choice but to grasp for your words. “It’s…nice to meet you too.”

If the option of the ground opening up beneath your feet and swallowing you whole was available, you would have taken it without any hesitation. You detested the awkward pause you had inserted in the middle of your statement, it made you sound flighty and moronic, as if you couldn’t put together basic conversation phrases.

He didn’t seem to mind though, the slightest twitch of his lips being the only indication that he had noticed your scatterbrained state– an indication you had missed on your end.

“I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, he sauntered off. You watched as his figure retreated through the doorway as you stood there, dumbfounded at the nature of the interaction. More importantly, a singular question lingered in your mind, the question of how he had managed to get away with using his headphones in class.

It would go unanswered.

i] now.

There was something so distinctly you about the woman that sat across Donghyuck.

He focused on the different items displayed on the menu he held in front of him, refraining from glancing at the woman for the third time in thirty seconds. He was supposed to have chosen what he wanted to order a solid five minutes ago, but his composure had been completely thrown off and decision fatigue was quickly setting in.

“I’ll have the steak.”

Her name was Kim Yeonmi, twenty-four in age just like him and very pretty. An elegant dark blue dress donned her figure, her dark, wispy hair tied up into a bun with a few strands of hair let loose at the sides to effectively frame her face. Perhaps it was a little too much to have a first date at a fancy restaurant such as this, with its ostentatious ambience, but he wasn’t too sure of how dating worked at all.

There was just one person he had experience with.

She looked like she was enjoying the extravagance though, bobbing her head to his choice as she gave the menu another once over. “Just give me another minute.”

He smiled politely. “Take as much time as you need.”

She looked nothing like you, but the way she muttered the names of each dish back to herself under her breath had thrown him back in time, reminding him of how you used to do the very same.

“It makes it easier to choose when I say them out loud”, you had explained one day to him. “The one that sounds better is the one you pick.”

A foolproof strategy according to you, one you defended with all your might no matter how many times he teased you about it being ridiculous. He recalled the way you’d glare at him, hands resting low on your hips and an exasperated look on your face, the one he had grown so fond of. It was something he’d tease you about, how he loved the pissed-off look you’d give him even though he was the culprit for its showing pretty much every time.

He missed the dish Yeonmi finally settled on, snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, gesturing the waiter over to place the order. When it came to her order, he let her speak for herself, a good save.

He had to get his act together.

“So,” he began, leaning back a little in his seat in an attempt to relax. “What do you do, Yeonmi?”

The woman took a sip of the wine that they had previously ordered before answering, “I work in finance.”

The information barely latched into his memory, an absent-minded nod from his end to make it look like he was genuinely listening. Like he wasn’t observing the delicate messiness of her hairdo– messiness that was clearly intentional, done for the illusion of being effortless. It reminded him of how your hair always seemed to be half out of your ponytail, but it shouldn’t have, because that had never been intentional.

Donghyuck didn’t like the way your memory haunted him so insistently at such an inconvenient time, and he didn’t understand why it did either.

“I’m a music producer,” he informed her, a simper making a show on his face at the mention of his occupation. It was a thing of pride for him, the amount of work he had put in to say those words in the same sentence as the word ‘successful’ was astronomical, but it had all been worth it in the end. Music had been his life's blood ever since he was a child and the fact that he now was able to work with it every day and it was the reason he could take care of his mother meant the world to him.

New York baby, it made dreams flicker to life. The move he made at merely eighteen had been the best decision he had ever made.

It hadn’t come without its sacrifices though. After all, no risk, no reward.

The food arrived, piping hot and delicious enough to act as an excuse for his distant demeanour. He was present enough to make light conversation, doing his best to store all the little bits of information about Yeonmi in the back of his mind on the off chance of this first date turning into a few more.

And maybe, hopefully, he’d be less of an ass about them. Maybe this could go somewhere.

The two walked out of the restaurant, Donghyuck holding the door open for her while she exited. A light pattering of pink dusted the woman's cheeks at his consistent shows of gentlemanliness, but it went wholly unnoticed by him, who refused to let her catch a cab from the busy streets of the city, and insisted he drop her back to her place of residence.

How could one not fall for Lee Donghyuck when he was just so charming even when he didn’t intend to be?

Pop songs played at a low volume through the radio, the typical ones that played on a Friday evening to make the daily evening commute a little easier for those coming back from their workplaces, but heightened by the fact that the weekend was at large. The ride was a pleasant one, the music allowing the silences in conversation to be comfortable. Yeonmi snuck a shy glance at Donghyuck through the rearview mirror, noticing the way his long eyelashes framed his eyes that were focused on the road before them.

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel rhythmically, humming along the song that played as Yeonmi spoke about how she had been obsessed with that very one a few weeks ago. She seemed to be infinitely better at traversing the treacherous waters of conversation, seemingly not even noticing how withdrawn he seemed to be.

Her chattering also reminded him of you, though a little less interesting. It was a tad comical, how he had the audacity to compare every little thing about her to the one person he had pushed away.

“That’s my apartment complex.”

He parked the car and got out of it, circled the vehicle to get on her side, and opened the door for her, causing a pleased smile to appear on Yeonmi’s face. Then, he walked her up to the lobby of the building, exchanging pleasantries and goodbyes with a muttering of a hopeful ‘see you again’ thrown into the mix for good measure.

And with that, she was gone, and Donghyuck was alone once again. The sky was a dark blue, splattered with a few glimmering stars amidst its midnight canvas, the moon hiding behind the misty clouds. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers and let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding in, shutting his eyes and counting slowly to ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

It had been eight years.

Eight years since he had let go of you, opened the palm of his hand and watched as yours slipped right through his fingers. Sometimes, he could still feel the ghost of your skin linger on his fingertips.

Eight years was a hell of a lot of time, and time was said to heal all wounds. Time should have let him focus on his date instead of thinking of you and the little habits you had that had burned themselves into his memory.

Time was a fucking liar.

It was pathetic really. He had managed to not think of you for six of those years, save for the occasional moments when he had had one too many drinks and the alcohol had scrounged up cherished moments of the two of you from the vault of his mind.

But he was completely and utterly sober right now, almost too sober, he thought, for the wine he had consumed earlier hadn’t done much at all. The cold air nipped at the exposed skin of his face and face, grounding him to reality with its sudden harshness, another reminder that too much time had passed for him to be doing this. He had let go of the right to do so.

And yet, he found himself thinking of the only girl he had ever loved that windy Friday eve, her smiling face washed into the indigo skies.

The scent of a corporate office clung to your clothes, carrying itself with you as you inserted your keys into the lock of your door, twisted them, and pushed them open to reveal the solace of your apartment. You entered, slipped off your shoes and trudged into the living room where you flopped down on your couch, letting your muscles fully relax for the first time in eight hours.

“Y/n? Are you home?”

Lifting your head limply, you let your eyelids flutter open to peek over the backrest of the sofa, only to be met with your roommate standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile seemingly stuck onto her made-up face. “Oh, it is you! How was work?”

You gave yourself a second to admire her handiwork from where you were sat (read: sprawled out), wishing you had the ability to do a perfect winged liner as she could.

“Tiring,” you complained with a sigh, feeling as if your bones were going to disintegrate into dust any moment.

She tutted sympathetically, retreating back into the kitchen. You heard the water running for a few seconds, and then she emerged again, walking over to you and handing you a glass of water. “Poor thing.”

Kim Yeonmi had been your roommate for the last two years, ever since a mutual friend of yours put the two of you in contact when you had been searching for accommodation after college that fits your budget. She was a warm person, sweet and helpful whenever she could be, and the two of you had hit it off from the moment you moved in, the arrangement blossoming into a fruitful friendship for the both of you.

“Bless you,” you took a sip of the water, straightening up your position to give her space beside you. She had even remembered to add a few ice cubes, the cool liquid revived your tired senses and cleared your mind.

She sat down, tucking her legs under herself as she reached out her hand, resting it on the top of your head and rubbing it comfortingly. You leaned into her touch, closed your eyes and savoured the quiet moment of solitude– the first one you have had today.

Then you opened your eyes and turned to her.

“So how was it?”

A bashful smile decorates her crimson-painted lips as she averted her gaze from you in an attempt to hide the flush that was quickly making itself known on her face. She cleared her throat, answering in the most casual and non-committal way she could. “Good.”

You snickered at her response to your simple question, “Seems like it was more than just ‘good’.”

“Well….”

Yeonmi sighed, leaning back into the cushions properly as she got comfortable and thats how you knew you had her.

“Come on, give me the details!” You disregarded your fatigue, slapping her arm playfully to convince her to spill. She laughed at your eagerness, a laugh that was laced with girlish merriment, and rubbed the back of her neck, the smile on her face not slipping from its place even once.

“It was amazing,” she confessed, much to your delight. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a great date.”

You had witnessed her stressing over this date of hers since yesterday and had caught glimpses of her nerves this morning before you left for work. To help ease those nerves, you had helped pick out her outfit, made sure to respond to every one of her manic texts to you between work and called her back during your break. You were overjoyed that it had gone well for her.

This was the first date she had gone on in an entire year after her last relationship had come to an end. It was a messy breakup, leaving you with an extremely shaken Yeonmi who, in her grief, had vowed to never love someone again. Thankfully, that phase was one she got over quickly, and you were proud of how she had managed to heal and put herself out there once again.

God knows you had tried and failed.

She began describing her evening, starting with how her extremely charming date had already been waiting at the restaurant they had agreed upon. She had met this man on a dating app- the name of which she refused to tell you unless it turned out to be more than just a dead end, and after a few weeks of talking, they had finally decided to go on a date, something she had been anticipating for a while now. You listened, squealing and giggling along with her at the appropriate times to reciprocate her evident excitement.

“And you know what was so cute?” She continued, talking a little faster now that she had warmed up and was in the thick of describing the date. “He seemed a little distracted like he was just as nervous as I was about the entire thing, and that just put me to ease, you know? A suave guy is nice and all, and don’t get me wrong, he was confident, but that slight nervousness showed me that he liked me as well.”

Her gushing was endearing, and you nodded with a smile. “He sounds perfect.”

“Oh he’s an absolute dreamboat Y/n, seriously, I don’t know where or how I managed to stumble upon him, but I must have done something good in my past life to deserve this.”

You placed your now empty glass on the little table next to the couch, settling in closer to her. “You always do good, you had this good karma coming.”

“Oh I forgot to tell you the best part,” She looked at you with a serious look on her face, but her eyes were practically twinkling. “He likes Taylor Swift. He was singing along to her songs when he dropped me home.”

Your jaw dropped. “Now I know he really is perfect.” You grinned, the expression quickly morphing into a yawn as your exhaustion finally caught up to you again, and in good timing, considering she had finished talking about her date. She looked over at the clock and then back at you.

“You should go to bed, you’ve had a long day.”

You wholeheartedly agreed with this suggestion, stood up on your feet and stretched your arms out above your head. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna call it a night here.” Picking up your bag that had been strewn out across the floor, you walked to the doorway that led to your room, before turning around and facing her once again.

“Hey, one last thing.”

She gazed up at you in the midst of removing her earrings and hummed in acknowledgement, “Hmm?”

“What’s his name?”

“Huh?”

“You never told me his name,” You shook your head in amusement. “I think you were too caught up in all your excitement.” For the past half an hour, she had just been referring to him in only pronouns, something you had just realised.

“Oh,” her lips formed an ‘o’ shape in surprise at herself. “Donghyuck. His name is Lee Donghyuck.”

And just like that, your entire world fell apart.

It's funny how a simple name can knock the air out of your lungs.

That was an understatement. That name– his name– was anything but simple. The three syllables that constituted it stood for so much, things said and left unsaid, buried in the grave of your mind.

The unadulterated shock you felt at the name she uttered caused your already aching legs to feel even more unstable than they did, and your knees nearly gave out underneath you. You steadied yourself by leaning against the doorframe, a shaky breath escaping your lips as an emotion that you hadn’t felt so strongly in a very long time ripped through you.

Despair.

No. No, it couldn’t be–

For a moment, you could almost see his eyes looking at you, one moment with such affection and the next with more sorrow than you could ever begin to describe. I’m sorry.

“Y/n?”

You gripped the doorframe, feeling as if the rug had been swept from right under your feet, and focused your eyes on Yeonmi on the couch, who was now staring at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

How many times had you lied while answering this question when it came to him? You had lost count, so there wouldn’t be any harm in doing it once more. Sucking in a harsh gulp of air that hit the back of your throat, you forced a smile. “Yep. Goodnight.”

You choked out the words, spun on your heel and stumbled to your door, grabbing and twisting the doorknob in haste, your entire body weight leaning on the door as it swung open. Practically tripping over your own feet, you shut it quickly, both hands fastened to the knob as you rested your forehead against the door, using it as support for your body that suddenly seemed several pounds heavier.

It had been eight years since you had heard another person say his name, the sound of it cutting through reality itself, digging into your skin and latching onto it. Perhaps that was the cause of excess weight that seemed to drag you down at the very moment.

Fuck.

You took a minute to wonder what God was sitting above and laughing at your sorry state.

Using the door behind your back as a guide, you slid down to the ground, pulling your knees closer to your chest and interlocking your fingers in front of them, forming your very own cocoon. You pathetically hoped that it would shield you from the torrent of your own emotions.

Rationally speaking, this was most definitely a coincidence. You were sure that there were several people around the world with the first name ‘Donghyuck’ and last name ‘Lee’ – after all, it was a pretty common last name to have. The chances of this guy, Yeonmi’s perfect dreamy date being your Donghyuck were extremely improbable.

Your Donghyuck. You almost laughed bitterly. He hadn’t been your Donghyuck for a long, long time.

You didn’t know if he had ever truly been yours to begin with.

I’m so sorry, Y/n.

You closed your eyes and tried to steady your breathing, only to snap them open immediately when the image of his eyes once again rippled through the forefront of your mind.

This was ridiculous, you knew, the extremity of your reaction was wholly uncalled for. It had been eight years and one would think you would have been better at controlling your emotions, especially when it came to something, someone, that was so heavily stuck in the past.

It turned out that you were also stuck in the past. The way your legs resembled those of a newborn giraffe a few minutes ago was enough proof of that.

A groan escaped you, one that was a mix of frustration and distress. You couldn’t quite place the new ache that had emerged in your chest, a dull throb that felt icy cold, yet strangely familiar. You reasoned with yourself, your thoughts waging a silent war among each other as you laid out all the reasons why it couldn’t and wouldn’t be the man that lingered in your life like a poltergeist you didn’t have the energy to exercise.

You could hear the soft padding of Yeonmi's footsteps outside your door as she made her way to her own room and the soft click of her lock as she retired for the night. Slowly, you let yourself relax and mentally gather all the strength you possessed right then to pick yourself up from the ground and carry yourself to your bed, the usually short walk feeling like a thousand steps away. The soft cotton sheets welcomed your weary body, alleviating the weight that currently sat upon your shoulders and providing you with some temporary relief.

It was late, and it never did anyone any good to think about things beyond their control in the intimidating silence of the night. Letting your eyes close for real this time, you turned onto your side and tried to quiet your mind.

But there was still a small part of you that thought back to then.

ii] then.

He liked cookies-and-cream flavoured ice cream.

You gripped the complimentary wooden spoon that came with the cup of ice cream you bought from the convenience store, staring at the slightly melted ice cream that you held with your other hand. Donghyuck was just about done with his, a triumphant smile creeping up on his face every time he glanced at you.

“I told you.”

“Don’t gloat.”

“But your reactions are so cute,” he teased, taking another spoonful of his ice cream. Your biology class had a pop quiz that day, and Donghyuck had tried to help you with an answer you weren’t too sure about. However, his answer sounded even more incorrect than yours, and he made you promise to buy him ice cream if he ended up being correct. “I told you the right answer but no, you insisted you were right and lost the mark.”

The compliment stung a little, or perhaps that was just the summer heat prickling the back of your neck.

“I’m not affected by that,” you huffed, “I’m wondering why you chose such cheap ice cream of all the ones you could have. We just got it and mine’s already melting.”

He shrugged. “It’s not the ice cream that matters, just the fact that you had to buy it for me to symbolise me being right.”

“But there's a Häagen-Dazs right down the street. Sakura and Chenle would have immediately made me buy them that.” Your protests and comparisons seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continued to enjoy his ice cream soup, leaving you to roll your eyes at his flippancy.

“I don’t want to run you dry, now do I?” That surprised you, and it was apparent to him by the bewildered look in your now-wide eyes. Whenever you offered to pay for your other friends, they always jumped at the chance to exploit you to the best of their abilities, taking full advantage of the opportunity.

There truly wasn’t anyone like Lee Donghyuck.

You weren’t quite sure how the friendship between the two of you had blossomed, for it had been such a natural thing that it completely slipped you by. The occasional hello turned into walking in the hallways to classes together, texting each other and hanging out after school while eating cheap ice cream. It was just so easy with him, activities you would find boring with others were enjoyable in his presence.

It was unfathomable, how everything about him was so captivating. He carried himself with an effortless aura, as if unaware of how magnetic and goddamn beautiful he was because he truly was one of the most stunning people you had ever set your eyes upon in your short life. Oftentimes, you would catch yourself just admiring the gentle slope of his nose and rise of his cheekbones, and how his hair fell so perfectly.

And how could you forget his eyes, ones that you had the privilege of being under the gaze of, more so than others? His eyes were your favourite part of him, they left you mesmerised with their fiery intensity and simultaneous gentleness.

“Your ice cream has completely melted,” he pointed out, nudging your side lightly with his elbow, effectively snapping you out of your self-induced reverie. You looked at your cup, the realisation that you had been aimlessly stirring its contents hitting you.

“Oh.”

“What were you daydreaming about now?” He asked, mirth lacing his voice as he looked on at you affectionately. Over the past few weeks that he had been growing closer to you in, he had started picking up on your little habits.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Nothing.”

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable,” he cocked an eyebrow. “You were staring at me weirdly.”

Warmth flooded your cheeks, you had been caught due to your carelessness, and yet you couldn’t help but feel a little offended at his choice of words. “Weirdly?”

The edge to your voice gave away how you felt at that moment, and alarmed, Donghyuck shook his head, tossing the empty plastic cup in the recycle bin next to him. “No– well yes– but not in a bad way! Good weird.” In truth, he liked taking up your attention, he would sit forever to dissect the flecks of gold that appeared in your eyes when the sun's rays fell into them, and the lingering emotion he couldn’t quite explain.

“Good weird,” you repeated softly, looking away from him and letting that sink in. The apples of his cheeks were a light rosy shade now as he fidgeted, hoping he had successfully mitigated any possible insult he had accidentally bestowed upon you. He truly hadn’t meant to, there wasn’t an ounce of weirdness about the situation in the slightest, except for the muddled feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach when you looked at him like that.

“You’re the weird one,” you deadpanned finally, and he shrugged in resignment, plucking the cup out of your hands, much to your displeasure, “Hey, I’m not done–”

“There’s no point in finishing this, it’s not ice cream anymore.”

It landed next to his cookies-and-cream cup in the bin, his matter-of-fact words flying into the wind. You didn’t bother arguing, letting your hands fall limply to your sides as you looked at him again, noting how the orange glow of the sky crept through the strands of his hair, framing his head like he was a saint of some sort.

“I’ll walk you home,” he stated, taking a few steps before stopping and turning around, waiting for you to join him. He was dependable and someone to trust, you thought briefly, biting back a smile at him. Donghyuck pushed down the fluster that was creeping up on him again.

The sunset over your little town, painting the sky in more brilliant colours as the two of you walked underneath it, knuckles silently brushing against each other as it faded to black.

Donghyuck walked into his house, a Taylor Swift song playing through the headphones that he currently had on. While he had been walking you home, the two of you had engaged in a lively conversation about the different musical artists you each enjoyed, which eventually spiralled into an entire monologue on your end about why you loved the aforementioned singer so much. He found the way you spoke so animatedly, your voice brimming with passion and insistence, extremely adorable, and clearly, you had excellent convincing abilities because there he was, listening to her.

He slipped off his shoes, placed them by the door and sighed. The hallway of his new house felt nothing like a home, but the feeling of unfamiliarity that came with it was all too customary for him.

“Donghyuck?”

His mother's lilting voice reached his ears from where she was, and he followed it. “I’m home.”

“Oh good, good,” she came into view as he made his way into the kitchen, slipping the headphones around his neck and opening a cupboard to get himself a glass. “I was thinking we could watch a movie today. I don’t have any work right now.”

He poured himself some water, thinking over her offer. He knew her intentions were good, she just wanted to spend time with her son and his answer should have been a yes, but he shook his head anyway. “I have a lot of homework to finish.”

“Oh.” She tried her best to disguise the disappointment that laced her voice for his sake, but he could hear it as clear as day. “Alright, I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

He nodded, finished his water and walked upstairs to his room, taking two steps at a time to reach there as quickly as possible. Pushing the door open, he reached a hand out to the switchboard and then hesitated.

Donghyuck didn’t know which switches corresponded with anything.

For some people, this was an inconvenience at best, but for him, it was a sentiment he was unfortunately very used to. A painful reminder of the unpredictability his life had always possessed. In his last house, he had just about figured out the pattern of which switches were for specific items, but now he was once again left feeling stranded.

And he couldn’t help but blame his mother for it.

It was the same cycle playing out before him again, the move and the new town, the new faces that he knew would probably not mean much to him in a year when he found himself in a new place, thinking about how he wished that just once, he would be allowed to enjoy the trivial luxury of knowing the switches well enough.

One would think he’d be used to all the moving, but then again, he was just a teenager.

He also knew it wasn’t truly his mother’s fault – she was simply doing what she needed to in order to support the both of them and being a single mother was no doubt hard on her – but Donghyuck was only sixteen. It was much easier to criticise and resent her than to try and understand for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had been so understanding for so long, that now even the concept of trying to be sympathetic sounded exhausting.

Every year he’d walk through life without caring much for anyone he came across. Friendships didn’t mean anything to him for they were so fleeting, and the people who promised to stay in contact with him would stop calling and texting within two weeks of him moving. He had realised that letting himself get attached to someone was a waste of time and energy he didn’t have anymore, and had slowly taught himself to isolate himself so that every move didn’t hurt as much.

So why was it that for the first time in what felt like a long time, he felt a pinch in his heart when he thought about moving again?

And why was it your face flickering through his mind that seemed to cause it?

In complete and unadulterated truth, he had never felt such a pull towards someone as he did to you. It had always been so easy for him to keep people at a distance, but with you, he forgot about having to do that. If anything, he wanted to keep you as close as possible. You were something he hadn’t accounted for.

He flicked the first switch on. The fan whirred to life.

Donghyuck would learn the pattern soon enough.

iii] now.

The days passed quickly as they usually did, you pushed any lingering doubts about the man Yeonmi was dating to the far periphery of your mind, burying yourself in your work. You were working towards a promotion you had had your eye on for a while now, and it was more important than anything else.

But it was hard not to notice the little things that had changed about Yeonmi, the way she smiled more and how you’d often catch her hiding a grin when she glanced at her phone. It was difficult to ignore how she’d dress up and go on her dates, especially when she so often asked for your opinion and help, and you were forced to swallow your pride and assist her.

You were being idiotic, you knew, which was why you reminded yourself that this could not have been the boy you once knew.

You sighed, shutting your laptop and placing your hands on the edge of your desk, pushing yourself to your feet and stretching. It was technically your day off, but you were still swarmed with online meetings and a few dozen emails that you had to send out. Letting your hands fall, you pulled at the hair tie around your wrist and gathered your hair into a ponytail, walking away from your home desk and walking to your bed.

It was getting pretty late and Yeonmi still wasn’t home. From what you knew, she had gone to a dinner party her date had invited her to, and she had warned you she would be late and to not stay up, but it was in your genes to worry. You wouldn’t get sleep until you knew she was safe and at home in one piece anyway.

But you supposed shutting your eyes for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Just as you were about to slip into a slumber, you heard the faintest clicking of the door to your apartment, and along with the unmistakable peal of Yeonmi’s laughter, it woke you up. Blinking rapidly, you forced yourself to leave the comfort of your linen sheets and get to your feet, rubbing your eyes in order to wake yourself up a little bit and grabbing the robe you hung behind your door to combat the slight chill that the midnight air possessed before making your way to the living room.

You flicked the switch on as you walked into the room, squinting in discomfort at the sudden shift of lighting, lips parting in surprise.

There at the doorway stood an extremely giggly Yeonmi, the smile on her face looking like it had been tattooed on her lips, an arm placed against the wall to make sure she didn’t fall over, the other stuck in an attempt to take off one of her heels. When she failed and almost stumbled, another giggle left her, apparently unaware of the fact she was about to fall over.

Alarm rang through you as you took a panicked step forward, instinctively reaching out to try and catch her even though you weren’t close enough to do so. “Yeon-”

“I got you”

You froze as an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back to her previous position and steadying her, and while you were glad your roommate’s fate of faceplanting into the wooden flooring had been thwarted, it was the last thing on your mind.

The first was that voice.

You knew it like the back of your hand, and no matter long it had been, you would never forget it. Even if it had changed a little, a little deeper than it used to sound eight years ago, unfamiliar with the amount of time that had passed and yet so recognizable for you.

Faltering, you slowly shifted your line of sight up to catch a glimpse of the person, only for him to do the exact same thing, presumably as a response to you saying your roommate's name and it was like everything around you had paused just for this moment.

You knew those eyes.

Eyes that were currently filled with swirls of confusion and surprise, only to rapidly thaw into a horrified look of realisation, his arm around another girl that just happened to have been the very one you had to face every morning.

The world truly did have a cruel sense of humour. You stared back at him, unable to tear your vision away from him no matter what you did.

Lee Donghyuck, in the flesh after eight long years.

It was almost unsettling, how he looked the exact same he used to. Of course, there were differences, but they were all superficial in nature. His hair was cut slightly differently, no longer in the neater hairstyle he had kept as a teenager but a little longer at the back. He was wearing clothes you had never seen before, but that was to be expected, and he had his arm around someone that was decidedly not you.

But other than that, it was him. Those stupid, splendid eyes of his, those very features that had been burned into your memory and had stubbornly refused to leave no matter how hard you tried to evict them.

It felt as if someone was standing right on your chest, relentless in their approach and crushing your lungs, every pint of air inside it being zapped out as if it was never needed there in the first place. You briefly entertained the idea of walking back into your room and staying there for the next ten years.

“Y/n!”

The spell cast upon the two of you had successfully been broken by your intoxicated roommate, who, in her state, had absolutely no perception of social cues at the moment, and certainly not of the thick tension that had descended upon your living room. She broke out of his grasp, stumbling towards you without even a semblance of grace and threw her arms around your neck in a death grip of a hug, only succeeding in contributing towards your current breathing problems.

Taken aback by her rather abrupt display of affection, you awkwardly pat her back a couple of times, managing to choke out the words, “Thats me.” Your attempt at adding a jovial lilt to your voice royally failed because the only thing on your mind was something rather embarrassing.

It was how absolutely terrible you probably looked right then.

It was silly no doubt, for you to be pondering your appearance at that specific point in time. If you were morally a better person, perhaps you would have been thinking about how you were relieved that Yeonmi was safe, but the only thing you could think of was the fact that your hair most definitely looked like a nest and that you were dressed in a ratty old sweatshirt that you had owned since your freshman year of college and pyjama pants.

They had peppa pig on them. If not for the fact that they were the most comfortable thing you owned, you would have burned them after this.

“Oh, right,” she giggled when she pulled away and saw your eyes trained on the man she had brought with her, hands on your shoulders to make sure she didn’t fall, “This is Donghyuck!”

You glanced at her and then back at him, trying desperately to swallow the lump in your throat. “Right.”

Right? You mentally cussed yourself out for that lacklustre response and cleared your throat in order to save yourself. “Nice to meet you.”

Maybe he didn’t realise you caught the split second of confusion that passed through his eyes, but you had, catching yourself before you winced out of mild guilt for putting him in such a difficult position. Nevertheless, he played along like he was in on the plan all along, straightening up and responding.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Two strangers by choice met again that night, heartstrings that had once been intertwined and subsequently torn apart to die out, reviving with just a simple glance and a few words. He looked at you and you looked at him, forgetting for a moment that the girl standing between the two of you was the biggest obstacle of them all.

And for just a moment there, you were sixteen.

Donghyuck left a few minutes later, once awkward goodbye’s had been exchanged and Yeonmi was safely in your care, sipping on a large glass of water in her bed.

Being around him again, even if it had only been for a few meagre minutes, had completely shattered your self-composure. Your heart was beating too quickly, your adrenaline was on an all-time high and your ability to be discreet had evaded you entirely, resulting in times when you caught yourself looking at him a beat too long.

He seemed to be having the exact opposite reaction, barely even looking at you after the initial shock of it being you standing there wore off. His eyes seemed to be glued to your tipsy roommate, talking to her in a gentle tone as he bid her farewell and promised to message her the next day.

The fact that he seemed so normal infuriated you a little bit. It shouldn’t have, you knew that very well, but you simply couldn’t understand how you were a certified mess while he seemed to be so composed, acting as if you weren’t even there. It was wholly childish to expect him to be stuck on you, but then again, you had suffered that very fate, so why couldn’t have he?

And so there you were, sitting on the edge of Yeonmi’s bed, wide awake as you watched her finish her water, just barely making out the emotion that had resurfaced within you- the green-eyed monster responsible for your churning stomach with every look at your friend.

Why?

Because the way he had taken care of her tonight was all too reminiscent of how he used to do the same for you.

“What do you think of him?”

Her words were only slightly slurred now, and you blinked, registering her question. She stared at you expectantly, eagerly awaiting your judgement over her date.

“He’s nice.”

She frowned. “That’s it? Nice?”

You shut your eyes, desperately wishing you could skip over this question somehow, but when you opened them she was evidently still waiting for you to finish. You breathed in.

Now, what did you think of Lee Donghyuck?

You had thought Donghyuck was the most wonderful person you had ever met when you were a teenager, the one person who everything seemed so natural with. He was someone you thought was home, a best friend and a lover all rolled into one. But he had eyes that tortured you, a past interlaced so intricately with yours that lingered to this very day and connections to someone unbearably close to you in the present.

Yeonmi placed her glass on her bedside table and sighed contentedly. “I really like him, Y/n.”

You hadn’t heard her say something like that about a guy since her last relationship, and she had the same simper on her face that she did back then too. There was no way you could bring yourself to even think about attempting to ruin that.

You breathed out.

“I think he’s great,” you started, fingers curling around her cotton bedsheets and squeezing, doing your utmost best to keep your voice level. “He was really good with you tonight.”

The bitter irony of it all hit you, how the guy that let Yeonmi finally move on was the very same that made it impossible for you to do so. Her smile widened while your stomach grew heavier, dragging you down as you walked to your own room later that night, your dreams tainted with images of a boy you once loved and a stranger who looked the same.

iv] then.

Being sick did not suit you.

To say that you were miserable was an understatement. If one had to accurately describe what the situation felt like to you, they would have to include a bit about you feeling as if you were losing your mind. You did not appreciate the light-headedness that you experienced everything you stood up, or the throbbing head and blocked nose.

You definitely didn’t like being stuck in your bed practically all day.

Slumped against your pillow and underneath your sheets, you sighed for what must have been the twentieth time that minute. At first, you had no problem with being able to skip a day of school, thinking that you would have a relaxing day of rest. This, of course, included catching up and binge-watching all your favourite shows and taking a well-deserved nap to catch up on sleep that your chemistry teacher had stolen from you via the dozens of assignments she gave out every week.

Your glorious plans came to a stark halt when your mother decided that you needed to rest your eyes to get better, which meant that you had been forbidden even thinking about opening your laptop or staring at your phone for too long. This had left you to your own devices, and once you had slept for two hours, the ability to do so seemed to disappear.

Staring at the ceiling grew old pretty quickly.

The soft creaking of the door to your room had you quickly drop your phone and haphazardly push it underneath the blanket, plastering on the most innocent look you could as you stared expectantly, waiting for your mother to come into your view. She did, a glimmer of satisfaction appearing in her eyes at the sight of you without any electronics around you.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” Your answer elicited a smile from her, and she continued, unaware of how you had disobeyed her orders and hidden the evidence.

“Great, because you have a guest.” She opened your door further to reveal your guest and there stood Donghyuck, his school bag slung over his shoulder as he looked into your room, offering you a smile and a small wave.

You stared back at him, relief and mild horror washing through you at the same time somehow, wholly displeased at the fact that he was looking at you while you barely resembled a human being. The Kleenex visible at the end of your bed did nothing to soothe your embarrassment. The relief stemmed from the fact that perhaps the only reason you had not been too pleased about missing a day of school was that you wouldn’t see Donghyuck.

Well, at least that was sorted.

“Sakura told me you were sick,” he explained as your mother left, walking into your room and looking around. Suddenly, you were ever so slightly embarrassed by the pictures you had stuck up on your wall in the fifth grade, knowing that you were smiling a toothy grin in each and every one of them. While you hoped he wouldn’t stare at them too intently, you noticed the small brown paper bag he was holding.

Seeing the raise of your eyebrow, he grabbed the chair next to your desk and dragged it towards your bed, sitting down and keeping the bag on your bedside table. “So I got you something to cheer you up.”

Your curiosity was piqued by that, and you sat up straighter, eyeing the bag even more intently now. Donghyuck bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too hard because of how adorable you were, your nose and cheeks tinged due to whatever sickness you had been afflicted with, but your eyes were still lively. Deciding to put you out of your misery, he took out the contents from the bag, carefully watching for your reaction.

And you did disappoint in the slightest, the sides of your mouth curling upwards in joy at the fact that he had gotten you your favourite doughnut and drink. The fact that he remembered it exactly made you grin the same grin you had plastered on your walls, taking the food from him and watching as he brought out his own favourite combination.

“I fucking love you,” you declared, overjoyed at having something with actual flavour to eat that day, before realising the words that had left your lips. Quickly, you took a bite out of the doughnut to cover it up and make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. And it shouldn’t have been because friends said those three words to each other all the time. It was normal.

Right?

Of course, most friends did not feel their hearts beating rapidly every time the other person was near.

Donghyuck caught what you said, and for a moment it felt as if there was a lump in his throat. It wasn’t a new feeling when it came to you, the hesitancy to say something came and went as did his nerves around you. Swallowing heavily, he forced out, “Oh so you love me when I get you food. Got it.”

The teasing tone of his voice helped you relax, but if you had glanced at his face you would have realised it didn’t match his expression, which was just as tense as you were due to your slight slip-up. He couldn’t help but hope there was a hint of genuine truth in the statement.

“Shut the fuck up.”

And with that, the tension dissipated. He took a bite out of his donut and you took a sip of your drink. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward by any means, but you felt the need to fill it anyway.

“It’s not just because you bought me food, okay?” You began earnestly. “You’ve also always been there for me. I appreciate that more than you know.” Then you paused, but not for long, adding to your previous statements, “But doughnuts definitely don’t hurt, so you’ve made a sick girl very happy. Thank you.”

When you finished, you found him looking at you with an inexplicable look on his visage. The softness to his gaze had a flush rapidly rise up your neck, the simper playing on his lips laced with a hint of mirth. It was then you realised you had said a lot of nothing to him in the span of five minutes, igniting embarrassment to bubble up inside of you.

God, you would never understand how he managed to do this to you without doing anything at all.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m rambling. My dad says it’s a bad habit I need to get rid of.”

You mentally chastised yourself. There you were once again, giving him even more information he definitely didn’t ask for. In fact, in the past ten minutes, Donghyuck hadn’t said a word, it had just been you speaking. Burying under your covers to hide yourself was the first thing you wanted to do, but that would have made you look like even more of an idiot.

Why did you care so much about what he thought? The two of you were friends, he was probably closer to you than your other friends you had known since the first grade, and yet you were so deathly scared of somehow weirding him out or saying something wrong.

If only you knew what was going through his mind at that second, the sheer fondness for you that had taken over his every thought. The amount of affection he held for you was something he had never felt for anyone else before and due to that, he often forced himself to not think too much about it.

Most people had their first crushes at younger ages, but not Donghyuck. At first, he thought that he was weird, but then attributed his apparent lack of feelings to not staying long enough in one place to get attached to anyone.

Then he met you, and your existence itself rebuked that entire theory. He had only known you for a little over three months, and although this was the first time he had ever thought about someone like this, he wasn’t confused in the slightest. It was never about being able to stick around for enough time, it was just that none of them were you.

“You could talk for hours and I’d never get bored.”

The silence hanging over both of your heads was broken with that singular statement of his, melting away your nerves and replacing them with a pesky, fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach. You blinked, processing what he had said and wondered if the butterflies in your stomach were a result of the seemingly noncommittal comment or nausea from your sickness.

You had been a talkative person all your life, often getting into mild trouble at school for not being able to shut up. You had been told to quiet down or that your voice was too loud so many times that you had lost count, and something you had grown increasingly afraid of was accidentally boring someone by being too obnoxious on accident, leading to you apologising every time you realised what you were doing.

But not one person had ever said something so lovely to you. Never had they managed to completely dissolve that insecurity with just a few words.

“Oh,” was all you managed to get out in response. The butterflies seemed to increase in regards to the size of their swarm. He grinned.

“Somehow that made you shut up though.”

Rolling your eyes, you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling as hard as you wanted to. “Fuck off Donghyuck,” you puffed out your cheeks slightly. “You’re so lame.”

“Oh, so you want me to leave?” He got to his feet as if challenging you, and you snapped your head back, shaking it vigorously. If you had taken notice of the coy nature of his voice, you made no motion to show it.

“No, please don’t leave me. I've been sitting here alone all day. I’m this close to going insane.” You pinched your index finger and thumb together, pursing your lips in an indignant pout to put your point across effectively. This elicited a laugh from the boy, who promptly sat back down at your request, scooting even closer than before.

And you resumed your conversation, talking late into that evening. He filled you in on the happenings of the day at school (which was followed by your complaints about how everything fun happened only on the days you were absent somehow) and you finished your doughnuts, stealing a few bites from his as well. You bickered and laughed at his stupid jokes, going off once again into one of your famous tangents with him patiently sitting through them. Your other friends hadn’t shown up to check on you, but he had, and that was enough for you.

All you did was talk, but somehow he made you feel better by just listening.

Libraries were, in your eyes at least, magical spaces where time itself seemed to take a pause while you sat within them. The atmosphere of your local one that you visited often was unmatched, whether you were there to borrow books or to sit and study for a test.

This particular library was absolutely gorgeous, with older design choices and architecture that gave it a more regal feel, something right out of Dead Poets Society. You could spend entire days there being productive, and every time you visited, you always left with a smile.

The librarian was also extremely sweet and knew you by name, but that was to be expected considering you had been going there since you were ten years old. You walked in, giving her a polite wave and smile as you found your seat, settling in and arranging your study material. You were determined to tackle a particularly arduous unit of economics today in preparation for a class test you had coming up.

Your seat was towards the back of the library, next to one of the large arching windows and the optimal distance away from a fan in a corner. It was cosy enough to keep you focused on whatever you were doing that day while also giving you the best view of the library in its entirety, making it your go-to spot.

It was due to this splendid view that you saw a certain Lee Donghyuck walk in.

He stopped in the middle, those eyes of his scanning the large room until they fell upon you. They lit up- something you could see happen even from the distance away you were and he began making his way towards your spot.

Oh, dear. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting any work done after all.

Donghyuck slid into the seat right opposite you, and you nodded in acknowledgment, looking back at the screen of your laptop. He looked at you for a moment before opening the book he had gotten with him.

And now for some reason, even though you were in the most optimal spot in the library that always produced productivity from you, your attention was directed away from your work and towards the beguiling boy across from you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about him not glancing at you at all right then, or why you were so perturbed by it.

Shaking it off, you once again turned your attention to the wonders of Alfred Marshall. Your method of memorisation was taking notes, or rather, scribbling down whatever was on the slides your teacher had put together and hoping for the best.

And it was then you heard the distinct slapping of a shutting book. “I’m bored.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to curb the smile that always seemed to make a show around Donghyuck, and raised an eyebrow in question.

In a whisper, he continued, “This book fucking sucks. I gave it a chance because Seulgi insisted I had to read it, but I really can’t get through a page without wanting to take a nap.” The droll look on his face almost made you laugh. “Do you happen to know where it belongs? I haven’t quite figured out the library yet.”

You nodded, getting to your feet and cocking your head to signal him to do the same. He fell into step with you as you led him to the fiction section in the back, and making sure to keep your voice low, you asked, “Seulgi has been talking to you a lot lately, hasn’t she?”

Every syllable of your sentence had been laced with forced nonchalance, and you didn’t dare look at him even once, turning into where you guessed the book would have belonged. He hummed lightly, following you dutifully.

“I guess so.”

Kang Seulgi was one of the more popular girls in your grade, well known for being in the cheerleading team. You hadn’t interacted with her very much, but from the few times your paths had crossed, she had always been very polite, leaving you with the impression that she was a sweet person. To tell the truth, Donghyuck was also talked about quite a bit, but you weren’t surprised about that in the slightest. He was a sight to behold, even if he didn’t know it himself.

So naturally, Seulgi had introduced herself to him and had begun to talk to him a lot more. You remembered when he told you she had sent him a follow request and then slid into his DM's, and him asking you to help him with how to respond since he had essentially nothing in common with the girl.

Now look, it wasn’t as if you were jealous or anything, truly, there was nothing for you to be jealous over anyway considering there wasn’t anything between you and Donghyuck. He was allowed to talk to whoever he wanted and take their stupid little literary recommendations.

Okay, so maybe you were a little jealous, but you really shouldn’t have been. You knew you were his closest friend, but maybe you were jealous because while you were his friend, Seulgi had approached him with intentions that were very obviously the opposite of an innocent friendship.

“Fun,” you muttered under your breath, successfully failing your own unbothered claims, stopping in front of a shelf and holding your hand out. “Book.”

He handed you the book, immediately noticing the shift in your mood, even if it was only slight. You glanced at the cover and frowned, pushing it in the gap in between all the books and staring intently at the other title, evidently looking for another one you had just thought he would enjoy, before realising it was sitting on one of the higher shelves in mild dismay.

The silence bothered him a little. “It really is an ass book.”

Now, although this made you feel a little better, the feeling of slight stupidity that came along with it cancelled it out. The book you wanted to give him was just out of your reach, but you were much too proud to ask for his help after replying so curtly to him when it wasn’t necessary.

So you went onto your tiptoes, reaching out your hand in an attempt to get said book down, only for your fingers to barely brush against the wood of the shelf. This resulted in you almost stumbling a little, letting out a soft sound of frustration.

Donghyuck watched you in amusement, watching you try once again and still failing.

“Need some help there?”

“Nope,” you said a little too quickly, jumping a little now and just about touching the book’s spine.

He snickered to himself and moved until he was right behind you, easily finding the book and slipping it out of the shelf, making a point to hold it entirely out of your reach and asking languidly. “Are you sure about that?”

Donghyuck knew he had bested you. He was toying with that fact, enjoying having you in the palm of his hands to play with- but not in a malicious way.

You looked up at him, taking note of the way he was looking back at you. You took note of the triumphant look in his eyes, filled with amusement at your current struggle. That very amusement laced his lips as well, shaping them into an infuriating little smirk that had you catching your breath.

And subtlety had never been your strong suit, and it wasn’t about to start being so, much to your misfortune. Your eyes were trained to his lips, and this time, Donghyuck noticed.

He also noticed the minimal space between the two of you, and how if he just leaned forward ever so slightly…

It came to his attention right then and there, in the back of that library against the mahogany shelves, that he wanted to kiss you.

The thought had crossed the periphery of his mind before- the first time it did had taken him by abrupt surprise, seeing that he had never wished to kiss someone before. With you, the urge grew a little every day, and right then it was stronger than the last time. He was sixteen without the experience of his first kiss, and he had never thought too much about it before considering it was never in his list of priorities, but with you around? God.

And he had the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking of it too.

You were practically trapped in his embrace at that very point, pressed up slightly against the books as you stood there, your breathing going shallow in anticipation. It was questionable, just how easily he had disarmed you without even doing anything, and there you were, decidedly losing your cool for no apparent reason other than the fact that he was so close by. What was it again that he had asked you?

Oh right.

“I’m sure,” your voice came out small-sounding and meek, averting your eyes away from his face and down to your feet, gazing intently at the stitching of your shoes. “You can keep that. I was trying to get it down for you anyway.”

The spell was broken when he took a step away from you, clearing his throat in order to cut through the heavy air that had settled in between the two of you. He brought his hand down and studied the cover of the book, raising an eyebrow in question. “Why?”

“Because it’s infinitely more interesting than whatever the fuck Seulgi made you read.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, this time definitely noticing the hostile tone that came with your uttering of the girls' name. As hard as you had tried to exude indifference to the matter of the book, you had miserably failed, this being proved by your incessant need to one-up her literary recommendation.

But he thought it was endearing, and flipped the book over, skimming the excerpt at the back. You waited patiently for his verdict, alternating between looking at him and to your side, peering out the window.

“Okay,” He murmured, “I trust you enough to give it a shot.”

Pleased with this, you nodded and began making your way back to your table. It shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did, seeing that he had also seemingly trusted Seulgi enough to try the book she had mentioned, but that didn’t really matter to you.

The two of you settled back down in your seats, and he opened the book up. You scoffed slightly at his newly acquired focused state, resuming your previous work now that he was occupied. Perhaps you’d be able to focus now.

Though you knew, with him around, that would never be the case.

v] now.

“Do we really need these many snacks?”

Yeonmi waved her hand in your general direction to invalidate your question, adjusting one of the bowls that contained popcorn on the small table in the middle of your living room to accommodate the one with gummy bears.

“You can never have too many snacks,” she reasoned with you, stepping back and admiring her work. There on the table sat a selection of candy and salty-snacks, a cornucopia of unhealthy that was at the level of enjoyable. “Besides, it’s the first official time Donghyuck is coming over- any minute now, might I add- and I want it to be perfect.”

Oh right. You swallowed to avoid any sort of reaction making itself known, walking over and inspecting all that she had gotten. Gummy bears, popcorn, mini pretzels, chips- it was leaning towards being stronger on the salty side of things. “Are you sure you want me to stay? I can always sleep over at Chaewon’s.”

Much to your dismay, Yeonmi shook her head, shutting down your offer.

“It’s fine, I want you to be around. He’s going to have to get used to you being around anyway, and I would love it if you guys ended up being friends.” Her words pricked your skin, and unaware of this fact she continued on. “I have a feeling that you would really get along.”

If only she knew. You forced a smile.

“Oh, I think we should have another flavour of popcorn. Cheese?” She turned to face you, expectantly waiting on your answer. You hummed, shaking your head.

“Caramel.” Donghyuck had always gravitated towards sweets, so you knew he would enjoy that better. Yeonmi rushed into the kitchen to arrange for said popcorn, and you sat down on the couch, staring at the blank television screen in slight retirement, wondering how life had managed to corner you into such a situation.

Ever since the day he dropped your roommate home in her drunken state, you often thought about that bitter reunion between the two of you, cringing every time at the recollection of your decision to pretend that he was a stranger. You recalled the confusion stirring in those still-starry eyes of his, before it melted into a silent understanding between the two of you.

At sixteen you had sworn he had to be your soulmate. At twenty-four, you were forced strangers.

Yeonmi returned to the room with another bowl just as your doorbell rang, and you straightened up in your seat, mild panic taking over your system. Before she could even ask you to get the door, you escaped the living room, your feet carrying you quickly to the kitchen and further away from the door, where he inevitably stood.

Leaning against the counter, you let out a troubled sigh. You had no idea how you were going to survive the night without losing your mind in some respect, and you also had no idea how you were going to explain your bolting to your friend without some sort of excuse. Opening a drawer, you pulled out a bowl and began looking for something to fill it with, before coming across a packet of Sour Patch Kids.

You stared at the candy, slowly tearing open the packet and tossing some of it into the bowl. When you were younger, Donghyuck had always had a pack in his school bag, whipping it out at random occasions to snack on. It was his favourite candy back then, and although you’re not sure if he was still fond of it, it was still worth a shot bringing it out there.

Clipping it shut, you toss the packet back into the cupboard and steel yourself to face him once again.

Donghyuck stared at the screen of his phone, processing the time displayed on his lockscreen. 8:30 pm. He glanced up at the sky, taking note of the stars that decorated it in splashes, before walking into your building, calling for the elevator with a press of a button.

Truly, he knew that he was a bit of an asshole, and he had self imposed this title for a plethora of reasons. He had been dating Yeonmi for a while now, and although there were no labels to their relationship, he knew it was nearing the time where they talked about plastering on said labels, something he had been now infinitely put off by. From the moment he saw you, it was clear that going any further with the girl would be absolutely fruitless.

So he should have called things off with her, and yet here he was, walking into the elevator and signalling for your floor. When she had asked him to come over for a movie night, everything inside of him had been screaming at him to simply end it then to avoid complicating things any further, but on the outside he found himself agreeing, regretfully.

That was asshole strike number two. The first strike was committed eight years ago.

Running his fingers through his hair, he used his blurry reflection in the walls of the elevator to fix up his appearance. He donned a pair of light-wash jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt today, opting to be comfy in an attempt to soothe his enervated mental state.

Reaching your floor, he walked down the hallway and stood outside the door, sucking in a deep breath. Yeonmi had mentioned that since this was a casual affair, you would most probably be present as well, and that information had admittedly stressed him out even more than he already was.

You being her roommate suddenly made a lot of sense in regards to all those mannerisms that she possessed that reminded him of you. Living with you must have had your habits rub off on her, resulting in all the intense deja vu he had been experiencing these past few weeks. At first, he thought it was simply what it felt to fall for someone, considering he had only ever experienced it with you, but now he knew better.

The reason he had let this go on was because of how much she reminded him of you. It was like he still had you after all these years, even if it wasn’t nearly enough.

He rang the doorbell and waited.

Yeonmi answered, her elated smile at his presence spurring some guilt from his end. After a hug, she welcomed him inside, ushering him into the living room of your shared apartment and explaining the set up of snacks and blankets that she had laid out on the couch. It was clear that she had put a lot of thought into the evening, and he gave her one of those dazzling smiles of his in acknowledgement.

She sat down in the middle of the couch, and he followed suit, taking one of the ends as she switched the television on, starting the movie. Donghyuck glanced around the room as tactfully as possible, noticing you weren’t present.

And that's when you walked in, grasping a dark blue bowl in your hands, answering his silent question of your whereabouts before he could even ask it.

Part of him still saw the sixteen-year-old girl he had known all those years ago, the same hair and pensive expression painting your features that he had decidedly memorised. Once you had caught sight of him, you stopped in place and stared for a beat too long, looking from him to the table before him and then down at the bowl you held.

Yeonmi turned around and the sound of your soft, padded footsteps, and cocked her head to the side in mild confusion. “Did you get something else?”

“Yeah,” your voice cut through his self-induced trance sharply, terse and quick, you switched the lights off, leaving the light from the TV as the only source of it throughout the room, and walked over and sat on the other side of the girl, grabbing a couple of the items contained in the bowl before handing it over. “I thought this would be a good addition.”

He peered over, eyes widening ever so slightly when he recognized the candy to be Sour Patch Kids that you were now slowly munching on. Yeonmi offered him some, and he slowly took it, trying his level best to not look at you in silent question at the choice of it.

It seemed intentional, but that could have just been him overthinking it. By the looks of your eagerness to pretend he was a stranger to you, you probably didn’t even remember his emotional attachment to it when you were teenagers. The thought of that saddened him a little, especially when he thought back to the times you would always get him some every time you’d pass by a general store, or when he discovered you had an entire stash in the little drawer of your bedside table, ready for him every time he’d come over. The memory should have brought a smile to his face as he picked up one of the red candies.

The situation he found himself in was entirely ludicrous, sitting by a woman he had been dating for a short period of time and another who had everything to do with him in the past, but seemingly wanted nothing to do with him at present.

But he really couldn’t blame you for that.

Your behaviour towards him was more than justified, and if you hated him- well, he wouldn’t be surprised, or even blame you a little bit. No one deserved to be treated the way he had treated you, especially by someone who claimed to love you.

One and a half movies in, Yeonmi seemed to have dozed off. It was around eleven p.m., the snacks were almost all the snack bowls had been emptied- save for the pretzels, and he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to the television screen anymore, wholly uninterested in whatever was happening there. Instead, his gaze drifted towards your rigid figure, a little more visible now that the girl sitting between the two of you had slouched down a little due to her sleeping state.

The light from the television gently cradled your features, illuminating your side profile in a ghostly manner that made it difficult for him to tear his eyes away from you. That was the excuse he used to justify his mildly intense staring at that moment in time because the truth was that no matter the situation, he had never been great at looking away from you.

You must have felt the weight of his imminent stare, because you swiftly turned your head to face him, eyes locking with his almost instantaneously. The air around him stilled, he was afraid to move, as if doing so would break something- or perhaps himself. He couldn’t bear to think about doing that once more, wanting to protect you and himself from that outcome.

But playing it safe would only get him so far.

“Y/n.”

Your name made it out of his mouth just slightly louder than a whisper, but it had you breaking eye contact, a breath escaping you as if you had been holding it in, eyelids fluttering shut. This was the first time he had uttered your name in what seemed like forever, but he had never forgotten how to sound it out, holding it out to the wind like some sort of peace offering. Every syllable of your name was precious to him, ingrained into his memory and locked there, incapable of even the thought of escape.

“Donghyuck.”

You weren’t even facing him anymore, vision cast down to your floorboards as you responded with his name in that melodic cadence of yours, although it was currently laced with brevity. The guarded nature of your utterance did not go unnoticed either, he knew you too well to not catch onto these things, even if it had been a while.

“I…I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted, lifting a hand up and running it through his hair- an anxious habit he had retained from his teen years. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you shifted in your seat out of discomfort at the situation at hand, glancing at your fast-asleep roommate.

“She owes me so much for this shit.” Your words were completely unexpected, but it almost brought a smile to his face to know that your way of speaking hadn’t changed much either. No matter how much time passed, the little constants of life kept him grounded- but with you it only had his head in the clouds. Finally, you spoke directly to him, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Donghyuck paused, caught a little off guard. He couldn’t have disagreed with that more, the amount of things left unsaid between the two of you was the cause of the stinging tension hanging in the air, something he was desperate to attempt to dissipate. It was unnatural, all his memories with you involved everything being exceedingly easy, this was a striking difference to what he was used to.

It was his own fault. You held his stare, and it took him back to the first time he met you, when your ability to do the same was non existent. He recollected the nervous energy that radiated off of you the first time he ever spoke to you, the way your eyes would never stay focused at his for more than a few minutes. He had found it rather adorable.

That day was a bad one for him, and he remembered it in perfect clarity. In classic teenage angst, he was pissed off at the world for the cards he had been dealt, those being another new town and another first day at a new school. More importantly, he was even angrier at the person who had put him in such a situation once again- his mother, of course. He had barely spoken to her before leaving the house that morning, ignoring her meek attempts at trying to hold out an olive branch. She had made him his favourite breakfast to console him, a silent apology of sorts, but he hadn’t commented on it at all.

He had been through the routine so many times that he was tired and so he kept to himself, ears plugged with his headphones at the back of every classroom he found himself in. There wasn’t an ounce of effort to mingle with the other students from his end, his annoyances and temper getting the best of him.

And then he felt you looking at him in one of his classes, looking at you right when you had been called out for doing so. A few minutes later, your eyes wandered right back to him, surprise and embarrassment igniting in them when you realised you had been caught. He approached you afterwards, and the interaction that followed left him with a ghost of a smile on his face despite his sour mood.

He wasn’t sure why he had decided to approach you that day. There had been others who had tried to speak to him, others that he had blown off with tight-lipped, polite responses that hinted at him being wholly uninterested, but there was just something about you that drew him in so effortlessly. It had been easy with you from the very beginning.

Which was exactly why he needed to fix whatever was happening right now, at the present. “I think we need to talk.”

You shut your eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was out of weariness or frustration.

“No, we really don’t.” There was a tinge of denial embedded in your words, if not outright refusal.

“Yes, we do,” he gave you a mildly pointed look, trying to break through the wall you had built around yourself and open your eyes to the need to get this conversation over with as soon as possible. “You know we do-”

“I don’t.”

You cut him off before he could even finish what he had to say, the finality in your tone stopping him in his tracks. The way you snapped at him told him all he needed to know: that you had no intention or desire to continue this conversation. Even so, he would have maybe pressed a little more if not for the slight tremor that accompanied intonation.

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, knowing that he didn’t have the right to insist. A stifling silence settled between the two of you, unbroken for a few seconds too long as he sat there, stunned by your minute outburst and thus, as a result, speechless. He couldn’t think of an instance when you had ever reacted like that to him, and the realisation grounded him.

He swallowed, the dryness of his throat making the action hurt a little. “I should leave.” He spoke up, slowly getting to his feet to avoid waking up the sleeping girl next to him, “Tell Yeonmi I said thank you for tonight and…and that I had to leave because I have an early morning tomorrow.”

You nodded wordlessly.

The lack of anything from your end was unnatural for him, you had never been one to not talk. It had been one of his favourite things about you.

“And…I’m sorry.”

And with that, he left you there on your couch with the very words that had haunted you for what felt like all your life.

vi] then.

Zhong Chenle was one half of your two best friends, the other being Sakura Miyawaki, and the only male hair to his family's multimillion-dollar company. Although he had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and everyone had his beck and call, he was surprisingly down-to-earth for someone who grew up with that much privilege. Even with all the wealth that his parents had still put him in public highschool, which you supposed said a lot about how he was raised. You had met him for the first time in the fourth grade when you had been paired up with the ever-smiling boy during P.E.

Everyone in town knew where he lived and it was because it was the only mansion in the town, and saying that it was in town was a little bit of a stretch as well. It was situated towards the outskirts, but travelling was never a problem for him considering he had a driver appointed to take him wherever he pleased whenever he requested him to do so in one of the four cars sitting pretty in his garage.

You had been to his mansion several times over the seven years you had known the boy, and it never failed to leave you awestruck. The garden outside was enough to have your jaw drop, and the inside wasn’t any different with pristine white walls and marbled floors that were tastefully decorated. When you learned that he also had a pool, you seriously considered asking to be adopted.

It was due to this very fact that Chenle took advantage of every time his parents were out of town on some sort of business trip, having you and Sakura, along with his cousin Renjun, stay the night.

This time, however, was different. This time, Chenle was throwing a party.

His parents were gone for five days, and this conveniently happened to line up with the weekend, resulting in the perfect opportunity. He had never thrown a party before, but they had been happening a lot more frequently now that you were in the eleventh grade, and he wanted to dabble in the fun, insisting that all three of you needed more of that in your lives.

So you told your parents you were going to stay over at Chenle’s place for the weekend, throwing some clothes and other items that you would need into a bag and let your hair loose, hoping that it would conceal the makeup you had done for the party. When you heard the horn of Sakura's car blare at eight p.m sharp just as she promised, you bid them a rushed farewell and left your house, mild excitement admittedly drumming through your veins.

You walked over to her car, raising an eyebrow at Chenle’s presence in the backseat. The party had technically started by now, but since you had to get ready and finish all your homework for the week before you were allowed to leave, Sakura had agreed to pick you up and go with you.

This also meant that the host was supposed to be there instead of here, a host that beckoned you to sit next to him. You obliged, tossing your bag in first before sliding into the seat beside him and asking, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to pick you up,” he answered gleefully as Sakura began to drive away, smiling in a mixture of amusement and annoyance back at the two of you. His voice was a little jittery, and once Sakura turned into a new lane, he brought out the flask that he had presumably been hiding underneath the seat until it was safe. “Drink up.”

“This fucker showed up to my house,” your driver friend filled you in, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Thankfully, he still had the sense to call instead of ringing the doorbell. Can you even imagine the lecture I would have gotten if my parents saw him in this state?”

“You’re tipsy,” you concluded aloud, earning a lazy smile from the boy accompanied by finger guns on his free hand. You took the flask from him and unscrewed the top, cautiously smelling the top to ascertain the contents within, before holding it to your lips and taking a swig.

The pure alcohol hit your throat immediately, stinging it and having your features twist into a frown, but you managed to swallow it all, subsequently coughing.

“Oops,” Chenle muttered, “Forgot to tell you it's neat. There's nothing but whiskey in there.”

“A warning would have been nice, yeah.” Your neck felt warm. “Why are we already drinking?”

“It’s called pregaming Y/n, keep up. Be grateful since ‘Kura has to wait until we reach to partake in the fun. For us lucky folks, it starts now.” He ended this with a cheeky wink, his words were a little slurred, and you could smell the hint of whatever he had been consuming before. You briefly wondered how Sakura was going to get rid of the smell before she went home.

“I believe what you mean to say is thank you,” comes from the front of the car, laced with sass.

This was by no means your first time drinking with the two, since all the sleepovers at his place had consisted of stealing his parents liquor and drinking it in his room, but you didn’t partake in the act very often, and this was your first official party. You took another sip, this time a little more gracefully than the last.

“You’re the host of the party, Chenle, you’re supposed to be there. You didn’t have to come pick me up.” To this, he huffed, waving a hand in your face as if he was shaking out the truth in your statement.

“Yeah but you’re more important, so who cares?”

You grinned, now knowing that he was definitely a little out of it due to the drinking. He had the habit of going all sweet and mushy on the two of you when he had a little too much in his system.

“As much as I appreciate that,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “Isn’t that a bad idea, like, who is in charge back there? Won’t it be a mess?”

“Messes are inevitable when it comes to this, it’ll be fine,” He assured you as Sakura switched the radio on. “But if you must know, I left Donghyuck in charge to make sure no one dies before we get there.”

You decided to not point out the underlying implication of people dying after you arrived, perking up a little at the mention of your- er- close friend. “Oh he’s already there?”

“Yeah, your little boyfriend was downing a mixture of rum and coke last I saw him.” Chenle’s words elicit an immediate reaction from you, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shook your head stubbornly.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Sakura snickered from behind the steering wheel at your defensiveness, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “Keep telling yourself that, honey.”

“He’s not,” you insisted, cheeks feeling hot from the teasing your friends were subjecting you to blaming it on the contents of the flask you held. Half of the booze was still left, and so you continued to consume it slowly, adding, “We’re friends.”

Even you had to admit that you didn’t sound convincing at all. “Sure.”

You downed the rest of the whiskey.

“Where’s your outfit?” Sakura asked once they were done tormenting you. She was already wearing hers, a dark blue sleeveless dress that cut off a little above her mid-thigh, accentuating everything she wanted it to perfectly, paired with silver jewellery and heels. Like you, she had gotten a bag of clothes for the night stay as well.

Grateful for the change in topic, you unzipped the front of the hoodie you had on, revealing the top of your dress, the bottom part of which you had tucked into your sweatpants to hide it from your parents. “I’m wearing it underneath.” You tossed your hoodie to the side as you clarified, closing the top of the flask and handing it back to your friend to keep. “I’ll fix up there.”

“I’ll help.” You smiled gratefully at this offer of hers, nodding as you brought out your phone, attempting to neaten up your hair. Your enthusiasm was building by the second as Chenle babbled on about something inconsequential, arguing with the remaining two of you as usual.

About twenty minutes later, the car pulled into the driveway, and you had to do a double take to recognize the place. People you recognized faintly were walking around the gardens, holding red solo cups and talking, their chatter and laughter blending in with the music that came from inside the house- giving you an idea of how chaotic it must have been inside.

Grabbing your bags, the three of you made your way to the front door that was half-open, something that definitely should have been a concern, but none of you comprehended that, your teenage brains ready to let loose and have fun. You barely heard Sakura's declaration to get wasted over the cacophony inside, pushing through the crowd to get to the staircase.

“Holy shit, seniors are here too,” Chenle said triumphantly, pleased at having achieved their presence at his first ever party. “That’s sick, I’m going to go try talking to Taeil hyung.”

With that, he disappeared, leaving you and your best friend to make the journey to the top floor alone. The chances of anyone being up there were minimal, and you were going to use the private bathroom in his room anyway, so it all worked out in your favour.

Walking into said bathroom, you placed your bag on the counter and slipped your sweatpants off your legs, adjusting the bottom of your short, black dress. Sakura whistled in approval at your look after helping touch up your eyeliner, and you inspected your reflection in the large, fancy mirror, pleased with what was staring back at you. The dress had a certain subtle shimmer to it, but only when the light hit it at just the right angle, and your makeup brought out the best in your features, making you feel extremely pretty.

Perfect.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you declared, leaving your bags in the bathroom and proceeding to make your way back downstairs once you put on your heels, rejoining the pandemonium you had been so looking forward to the entire week.

The music was so loud that you were sure you were going to lose your hearing in at least one of your ears, feeling the bass in your stomach and head as well- actually, scratch that, the mild buzzing in your head was definitely due to the alcohol you had consumed before finally hitting your system.

This was going to be fun.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you informed Sakura, but her eyes were following someone else- Nakamoto Yuta, you realised, one of the star footballers on the team. Smirking, you gave her an encouraging pat on the back before navigating to the kitchen, almost getting lost due to the difference in how the house looked. You were used to the bright white walls and perfect interiors, the contrast of the dark lighting and cups strewn everywhere throwing you off a little.

Finally, you emerged into the kitchen, which was a little more deserted then the rest of the mansion. You stopped in your tracks.

Because behind the kitchen island and leaning against one of the counters was none other than Lee Donghyuck.

Glass in hand, he looked even more elusive than he already was in this light. A black shirt hung effortlessly from his shoulders, the first few buttons left open with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Jeans and a silver chain sitting around his neck, part of you was almost offended at how good he looked at that moment.

He seemed at ease, as if he was unaware of the lawless nature of the party, taking a sip of whatever drink he had poured for himself. He looked in your direction after a few seconds, as if he had felt your stare and raised his glass up in acknowledgement, the simper that appeared on his face telling you he was pleased you had finally arrived. This broke the spell you had been under, and you walked around the island into his full view, grabbing one of the plastic cups.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his eyes drag over your figure from tip to bottom and making you feel a little self conscious. You mentally chastised yourself- mere minutes ago you had been feeling extremely confident, and now that state of mind relied on his judgement, but only his.

Donghyuck had to force himself to look at your face again, one that was very obviously awaiting his judgement, it was just too easy to read your expressions. He was taken aback by how different you looked right then. A good, no, great different even. You were beautiful, he knew this very well by now, but he had never seen you quite this dressed up, and my god did you do justice to your look.

“You look amazing,” he commented languidly, and just like that, you were back on cloud nine.

Feminism had said goodbye the moment you had set eyes on him, clearly.

“So do you.” That was the understatement of the century. You almost wished you could agree to all of Sakura and Chenle’s teasing and say that he was your boyfriend, because you sure as hell didn’t want anyone else hanging off his arm right then. You glanced at the line up of bottles against the wall, a sound of disbelief leaving you. “Fuck, Chenle really went all out, huh?”

There was possibly every type of alcohol you could ever want sitting there, just waiting to be consumed. Donghyuck chuckled, the low sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“That he did. Here for a drink, I assume?”

You nodded. “Something a little light on the alcohol taste though, Chenle had me have whiskey neat and I need a break from anything too intense.”

He hummed in consideration of this, taking your glass. “Got you. Be ready for the greatest drink of your life.” You rolled your eyes, but waited in anticipation nonetheless as he grabbed one of the bottles, pouring about two shots into it before walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle and some ice, pouring the contents into your cup and gently tapping it on the counter to help mix it all.

“It’s peach ice tea and vodka,” he informed you as he handed it over, eagerly waiting for you to take a sip and assess the taste of his creation. “I’ve mixed it perfectly, so it should give you a kick without being too overpowering.” It was just as he said, the peach tea flavour being much more palatable to your taste buds, and you thanked him with a smile.

“What are you drinking?”

“Uhh…..rum I think. Yeah, it’s still rum,” he eyed his drink, before finishing the rest of it like a shot. “It’s the good, expensive shit, I’ve had around five of these- wait, no- six.”

You giggled, sipping tentatively at your drink and admiring Donghyuck, the pleasant buzz in your head growing stronger. A song you liked came on, the melody beckoning you towards the main area of the party with every beat that played.

“I’m going to go dance,” you declared, finishing your drink quickly. “I’ll find Chenle out there and join him.” This was your meek attempt at trying to get him to come along with you, not particularly wanting to leave his side or be separated from him even for just a song.

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell Donghyuck wanted to let you out of his sight either, especially not when you looked like that.

“I’ll come with you.”

You didn’t object.

After a few more hours of drinking, dancing and partaking in activities that would make your parents consider sending you to boarding school, you found yourself leaning against one of the walls of the house. You were completely unaware of which room you were in, everything happening in front of you feeling as if it was taking place in slow motion, your eyelids feeling heavy.

Doing shots with Sakura was the beginning of the end for you. You had spaced out the shots a little, and since they didn’t hit you immediately you had assumed that you were doing fine, and proceeded to consume a couple of Chenle’s concoctions- the worst possible decision you could have made. God knows what he had put into that cup of yours, but it was strong.

All this culminated in you attempting to keep yourself upright against the wall, fighting your drunken stupor to the best of your abilities. You felt good, and wanted to stay awake for the rest of the party, one that had absolutely no signs of slowing down anytime soon. It was probably around one in the morning at this point, and although you were having the time of your life, the smokey, dim lit setting and being surrounded by your fellow drunks was starting to feel stifling.

“There you are.”

You slowly looked up and registered the face that had waltzed into your view, taking your own sweet time to study the familiar spaced out expression that was plastered on Donghyucks stupidly gorgeous face. His pupils were dilated (as were yours, you were sure) and his hair messy but even that wasn’t enough to disrupt his beauty. You were about to complain about this very fact, but he beat you to it, speaking once more.

“You disappeared after the first round of beer pong, and Jaehyun made me finish the game before I left, but I couldn’t find you after that.”

His manner of speaking wasn't the sharpest either, clearly very tipsy, but in an infinitely better state then you were. You had spent most of your time at the party so far by his side, thoroughly enjoying how he would hold your hand and guide you from place to place so you wouldn’t get lost and the way he placed his hands on the small of your waist, as if having some sort of physical contact with you was important to him. You especially liked how he would dip his head down, mouth right near your earlobe so that you could hear him speak over all the noise.

As he had said, it was while some of your friends had dragged him into playing a game of beer pong was when you had slipped away, not entertained by the game in the slightest. You found Sakura and with every shot of vodka you let into your system, signed away your sobriety.

“Ah,” you mumbled dumbly in response, nodding absent-mindedly, the memory of how he had his hand on the small of your back while you were dancing to the music popping back into your mind.

Music that was currently much too loud for you.

Donghyucks features twisted into a look of confusion, clearly not having heard your sound of acknowledgement. “What?”

You groaned, “It’s too loud in here.”

He seemed to have picked up on that, somehow understanding what you needed without you even asking for it. “Do you want to go outside for a little? Take a break from this?”

“Fuck yes.”

You pushed yourself off the wall, promptly stumbling right into Donghyucks arms. He looped them around you and helped you regain your standing, a small laugh leaving him, the sound having you certain you had never heard something quite so magical. “Maybe we should get you some water first?”

“No,” You breathed out, shaking your head rapidly. “I just want some fresh air.”

This was how you ended up sitting upon the pavement of the street just outside Chenle’s mansion. The cold night air had you scooting a little closer to Donghyuck, before burying your face in your hands, which rested upon your knees, as you counted to ten in your mild, trying your best to regain your bearings once more.

Donghyuck wished he had worn a jacket so that he could give it to you, but settled for throwing an arm around you to offer some warmth. The fresh air had helped sober him up a little, offering him the slightest bit of clarity as he sat there on the asphalt.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you said faintly, evoking a snicker from his end.

“You think? You barely made it out here alive.”

The music was softer outside, much more bearable. You could hear the leaves rustle gently, as if forming their own melody.

“Shut u-up.” Somehow, you managed to stutter on this very basic phrase, only inviting more laughter from his end. You didn’t think you’d be able to blame it on the cold.

“My God, you’re so fucking drunk.”

You looked up at him, somehow momentarily unfazed by the close proximity and with a defiant look in your eyes, ready to argue back even in your inebriated element. “It’s not like you’re a saint right now either.”

He puffed out a laugh at how adorably indignant you were. “At least I’m better than you.”

“God you’re so fucking annoying,” you whined. “I really don’t know why I like you so much.”

You barely registered what you said, the words leaving your lips without much restriction. Inebriation caused you to let your guard down a little too much. He froze beside you, blinking rapidly to try and gauge how serious you were.

“You like me?”

The question somehow pulled you back to reality, but only a little bit. You opened your mouth and subsequently shut it, heavily hesitating. Even like this, you knew the weight that it carried, and the risks that came along with owning up to this accusation that you had brought upon yourself with your own carelessness.

Perhaps it was the cold, or maybe it was the faux confidence given to you by all the intoxicants in your system.

“Yeah.” Your heart hammered in your chest. “I do.”

“And you’re sure this is not just because you’re absolutely shit-faced right now?”

“Excuse me? I am not-”

You never got to finish rebuking that claim of his, because he pressed his lips to yours almost feverishly, as if he had been waiting to do so for a long time. You gasped against his lips, your body responded before your mind even understood what was happening, instantly leaning into him and resting a hand on his knee to steady yourself. His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, cupping your face ever so gently as he moved his mouth against yours slowly.

He tasted sharp almost, the remnants of whatever alcohol he had been confusing fresh upon his lips, strawberries- probably from a vape- along with a bitter undertone that you couldn’t quite place just yet, too acutely aware and focused on the fact that Lee Donghyuck was kissing you and how his thumb brushed gently against your cheekbone.

The kiss filled you with warmth and you immediately forgot about how cold you felt previously, every sound around you fading into the background, utterly unimportant to you. You felt yourself flush under his touch, your fingers reaching out and curling into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer.

Donghyuck could hardly believe that this was happening either, acting on impulse the moment you confirmed that you did, in fact, like him. He pulled away after a few seconds, watching as your eyes fluttered open a little later, wide is slight disbelief, your pretty peach -flavoured lipgloss a tad smudged, now also on his lips.

“You just kissed me,” you said in awe, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear fondly.

“I did.”

“You kissed me,” you repeated once again, like saying it aloud would keep it real and not just a figment of your imagination, “and you taste like smoke.”

You had eventually realised what the bitterness was. He frowned lightly, trying to place why that was. “Johnny hyung taught me how to smoke a joint sometime earlier- oh fuck, did that ruin it?”

The look of genuine worry on his face made you almost laugh, and you stared at him incredulously, almost scoffing at the notion. Your fingers were definitely wrinkling his shirt with how tightly you were holding it at that moment and you shook your head firmly- well, as firmly as you could for someone who could barely stand upon her very own two feet.

“Nothing could ever ruin it.”

When you awoke, you had absolutely no clue where you were.

Tucked neatly into a bed, you blinked rapidly to regain your bearings, staring up at the ceiling in pure mystification. You came to the conclusion that this was one of Chenle’s guest bedrooms, but couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how you got there.

You attempted to sit up but did so a little too fast, a sharp pang of pain rushing to your head and making it feel as if it split apart. A strangled sound of agony left you as you slowed your movements, opting to lean against the headboard as a compromise to sitting up straight.

And that's when it hit you.

Memories from last night rushed back to you, fractured and in hazy glimpses. You recalled holding up a stranger's hair while they puked in one of the bathrooms, awkwardly standing aside another girl who had never spoken to before as she sobbed, mascara streaming down her face, laughing drunkenly with Sakura and Chenle (that screechy laugh of his had somehow been amplified with how plastered he was) and stumbling through the many hallways of the house. You couldn’t recall anything in its entirety, having to make do with the mismash of chaotic, foggy remembrance.

But you distinctly remembered Donghyuck kissing you outside the mansion. And then once again inside, after he made you drink water, and near the staircase, and-

You placed your hands over your warming cheeks. It was quite amusing, how the only thing you remembered perfectly was making out with him.

Carefully, you got out of the bed, gritting your teeth to bear with the pounding in your head. You were still in your dress from last night, and there was no way in hell you were going downstairs looking like this. Somehow, you found your way to Chenle’s room, which was thankfully empty, and shut yourself in his bathroom, before sighing in resignation at your reflection. Your eyeliner was smudged around your eyes, makeup completely demolished- you were sure that your skin was crying because you slept in it.

Your bag was still there, and you removed the extra clothes you had brought along, freshening up as quickly as you could and changing. It felt good to get out of the tight dress and into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, washing all your makeup off. Deeming yourself finally presentable, you began your journey downstairs.

Downstairs, as you had referred to it as, had been completely trashed. Solo cups and bottles of alcohol were strewn everywhere, along with random shoes lying about. You grimaced at the sight that somehow contributed to your migraine, walking past it all to the kitchen, where Johnny stood near the stove, flashing you a bright smile.

“Y/n! Good, you’re awake. Take a seat, my famous pancakes are almost ready.”

Chenle was slumped over the island, sitting at one of the stools around it. He glanced up at the mention of your name, and somehow, the boy looked worse than you felt. You occupied the seat beside him, cocking your head to the side and silently asking why Johnny Suh of all people was still around, when it seemed like everyone else had dispersed.

“I threw up twelve times last night,” he offered instead, a certain hoarseness in his voice. “Johnny stayed over to make sure I didn’t die, and handled almost everything after. Somehow, he doesn’t get hangovers.” The last bit of information sounded a little like your friend was complaining over how unjust it was that he had to deal with a hangover, while the senior didn’t.

“It comes with experience,” Johnny said wisely, putting the pancakes he had made onto a plate and sliding it over to the two of you. “Leave a couple for your other friend, I think she’s still sleeping.”

You nodded, grabbing a fork and immediately dug into the breakfast he had so kindly cooked for the two of you, trying to pay attention to his speech about how pancakes were the best cure to a hangover and nod where you thought it was polite to do so, but your thoughts drifted away from him and to a certain boy.

Donghyuck had also been pretty drunk by the end of it all, you were sure. Chances were he didn’t even remember kissing you, but that singular thought was enough to have your stomach plummet.

“Y/n? Are you listening?”

“Yes?” You snapped out of it, biting the inside of your cheek hard.

Chenle rolled his eyes, but grinned. “The party was a success, Johnny hyung himself just said so!” Safe to say, Chenle was on cloud nine. You, on the other hand, were a mixture of anxiety and elation, which was a most confusing combination to unpack. The older boy smiled in hilarity, somewhat seeing his younger self in your friend.

“The next will be even better.”

As Chenle began planning the hypothetical future party (with a raging hangover, mind you- he truly was shameless), you stuffed your face with another morsel of pancakes, soaked in maple syrup, hoping that it would soak up the remaining alcohol in your system and help you think clearly about your circumstance.

By the time Sakura emerged from her slumber, it was around noon, and the pancakes had long been devoured.

You arrived home in the evening to an empty house and a note from your parents saying that they had decided to go on a date night. This worked out well in your favour, considering you had no energy to deal with anything after the events of last night. Johnny, being the only one completely in his senses, had driven Sakura’s car back with the two of you, making sure you reached home safely.

Flopping down onto your couch, you shut your eyes for a few seconds, deciding that what you needed to recuperate was a calm night. Perhaps you’d watch a few movies and order pizza.

These glorious plans of yours were quickly thwarted when you heard your doorbell ring.

Suppressing an annoyed groan, you forced yourself to answer the door, your eyes widening at the sight of Donghyuck standing there. Your mind immediately scrambled on seeing him, not a single coherent thought forming, which led to a most intelligent greeting from your end.

“Uh.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing behind you and into your house. Embarrassment flared up inside of you, and you coughed awkwardly, opening the door wider and shuffling to the side. “Right, wanna come in?”

So now he was in your kitchen, and you had no idea what to talk about. “When did you leave Chenle's?”

“Early morning,” he informed you, eyes following your every move as you poured yourself a glass of water, sipping on it to curb the awkwardness in the air. He paused, studying you carefully and slowly asked. “How was the hangover?”

“Terrible,” you groaned, the insistent throbbing of your head proving this. You finished up your water and walked closer to him. “It’s still there. I’m never drinking again.”

He snickered disbelievingly, a glint in his eyes that represented an emotion you couldn’t quite place yet. “Liar.” He seemed distracted, tapping his foot rhythmically against your floor. You briefly wondered how his hangover had dissipated so quickly, envious of the fact.

“Listen buddy, I’m a quick learner, and I’ve learned that being wasted is not worth the consequences.”

You said this in a joking manner, but there wasn’t even a hint of hilarity on his face, a serious expression facing you instead. Panic seized you for a moment, wondering if he truly didn’t remember the kiss, or if he did and regretted it. Maybe he was here to tell you to forget it ever happened, that it was just a drunken mistake from his end and that it would never happen again.

Maybe, you were just a terrible kisser.

“You were supposed to laugh,” you muttered weakly, your anxiety clawing at your chest. If he was about to reject you and crush your heart, you needed there to be more space between the two of you, and instinctively took a step back, moving to take another right after, but you were stopped.

Donghyuck grabbed your wrist, pulling you forward until you were right in front of him, his determination crystal clear.

“I am not your buddy.”

He said the word with resentment almost, staring at you hard. You swallowed thickly, not quite knowing what to say, terrified at the possibility of this being him cutting off your friendship as well. Him not liking you romantically was bad enough, but him wanting nothing to do with you was even worse. You couldn’t imagine not having Lee Donghyuck as at least a friend.

Pressing his lips together, he asked. “Do-do you remember everything from last night?”

The question hit you like a train, and the stutter in his voice- the hesitation, it suddenly cleared all of the terrible outcomes you were thinking of. He definitely remembered, and it seemed like he was afraid that you didn’t. It dawned upon you right then that it was quite possible that both of you were royal idiots.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Not everything.” His grip on your wrist was gentle and warm, you could see him swallow, a flicker of dread passing through those brown eyes of his as he rephrased his question.

“Do you remember what happened between us?”

How could you possibly forget? It was the only thing you could remember, the ghost of his kiss still lingering upon your lips that yearned for the feeling once more. Your confession was fresh on your mind, being the only thing you had thought about from the moment you awoke.

“You know I do.”

Your voice was quiet, refusing to look at him properly. His other hand rose to your face a few seconds later, fingers gripping your chin and tenderly angled your face upwards so that you were forced to, your face just inches away from his. You desperately hoped he couldn’t feel the slight tremble of your hand, feeling vulnerable without the courage that alcohol supplied to you.

“You know what? I don’t think I do know.” The coy nature of his voice did not go unnoticed by you. “I think I might need something to refresh my memory.”

You gawked at the boy, completely in disbelief at the sheer audacity he displayed right then, purposely playing with your already extremely frazzled mind in such a manner. You released your hand from his, hitting his arm weakly in annoyance.

“You’re so lame,” you declared, and he frowned.

“Lame? I’m trying to be smooth over here!” He genuinely sounded kind of distressed, and you couldn’t help the smile that erupted upon your face, even if you did your best to look as annoyed as possible.

“If you want me to kiss you, just say so, you idiot.”

He hummed as if deep in thought, only putting you more on edge. Slipping the hand that held your face behind your neck, he nodded softly and followed your instructions. “Fine, I want you to kiss me.”

He pulled you closer by your waist, fingers entangling in your hair as you closed the distance between the two of you. You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him almost feverishly, more than eager to experience it while sober. He smiled against your lips, which was enough to bring forth giggles from your end.

You kissed him until you were breathless and felt flushed, dizzy from just how long you had truly been waiting for this. Pulling away, you looked at him, searching for an answer to a question that had popped to the forefront of your mind.

“We just kissed.”

“For the second time,” he added helpfully.

“Right. And you’re not my buddy?” You raised an eyebrow, almost as if you were purposely provoking him.

“Please don’t friendzone me on day one itself.”

A laugh left you, and he let his other hand fall down to your waist, interlocking his fingers right by the small of your back as if he was securing you in place, making sure you wouldn’t disappear in that moment. Not that you wanted to anyway, being quite content with where you were currently.

“I won’t.” You promised, biting the inside of your cheek as apprehension suddenly came over you. “So then…?”

“Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He cut off the pointed silence with his question, one that had you nodding before you even verbally announced your answer. The shy yes that you pronounced earned you that marvelous smile you so loved, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him tight, as if trying to memorise every detail about what had just happened.

You were only sixteen, and perhaps still hopelessly unaware of the magnitude of your feelings towards Donghyuck, but somewhere in the uncertain haze that you had to navigate, you always knew that every path would always lead you straight back into his arms. You’d figure it out with your hand safely tucked in the pocket of his jacket, intertwined with his so firmly it felt as if he would never let go.

After all, what was love, if not the sweet promise of forever?

part i fin.

380 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 8 months

Text

Everlong

part 1: hello, I've waited here for you

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time. wc: 5.9k

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

author's note: There will be 2 parts to this. I fully intended to work on something Halloween themed, but then the inspiration for this happened. Just goes to show how my mind doesn't like to be told what to do.

"If everything could ever be this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when..."

-- Everlong, Foo Fighters

Steve’s week-long stay with Eddie was half over, and Eddie felt that reality sink his heart as he opened the door to his trailer.

“Honey, I’m home,” he announced with a spring in his step.

He lived in a trailer park across town now, it was double wide, and felt like a luxury after all of those years he spent crowding in with Wayne. He missed the old man though and went over to Forest Hills every couple of days to visit.

He never thought he’d be back in Hawkins a decade after high school, but he’d dropped everything to move to Indianapolis for a girl he was seeing, and then got his heart shattered a year later.

Coming back to his hometown felt a bit like failure, but it also felt safe. He still had good friends there, and he didn’t want to be alone anymore. Working as a welder at the local fabrication shop was not his dream job, but it paid the bills, and he was comfortable. He even got to play a show with his old band every now and then.

He put the Chinese take out on the island between the kitchen and the living room and called Steve’s name again. But then he caught sight of the piece of paper on the coffee table:

“Went for a run. BRB.”

The note made Eddie grin and feel all goofy, like somehow that small courtesy was such a huge act of love. He hadn’t been treated very well by his partners over the years, and that revelation stung him in moments like that.

Steve had also done the dishes, and the living room was spotless and organized. The ashtray on the coffee table had been dumped out and cleaned, all of the Guitar World magazines stacked neatly. When he opened the fridge to grab a beer, he found that they were all lined up in a row. Eddie kept telling him he didn’t have to do any of that, but Steve said that if he didn’t stay busy, he’d go crazy, and Eddie respected it.

Steve Harrington and Eddie had remained best friends, even through the years and the distance and the failed relationships. It just so happened that Steve was at the tail end of a very messy divorce, and needed a place to crash now that he was back from Chicago. His ex-wife had managed to take him for every penny he had, so Eddie was quick to offer his place after he joked about having to sleep in his car (it wasn’t a joke).

Eddie played the message blinking on his machine to find that it was from Robin. She’d also moved back to Hawkins recently, but she worked 50 hours a week, had two roommates, and was dating a woman from another town, so they didn’t get to see each other as much as they’d like. The three of them had a bowling date set for that coming weekend, and it gave Eddie the warm fuzzies to think about them all being back together again.

Eddie was in the shower with his dick in his hand, stroking it, when Steve burst in. “Hey man,” the intruder grabbed something from the medicine cabinet, and then braced his hands on

the sink before splashing some water on his face. “God damn, I am out of shape. That was rough.” Steve coughed a few times and then wiped his face on the nearby towel.

He couldn’t see Eddie through the dark blue curtain, but had he heard him? There was a possibility that Eddie had been talking to himself, thinking about Steve, and grunting a little as he got himself hard.

“Food smells good,” Steve added as he walked back out into the hall, but left the door wide open. “I’m starving.”

Nah, he hadn’t heard anything.

“I got those weird noodles you like,” Eddie shouted over the sound of the shower. “And sweet and sour chicken.” Steve didn’t have to tell Eddie what he wanted from the restaurant down the street; Eddie always paid attention to those things.

“Hey, leave me some hot water,” Steve was in the doorway again. “Or should I just get in there with you? Save some resources?”

“Not unless you want to soap my balls, Harrington,” and then Eddie threw his fist against the curtain. “Get out, and shut the fucking door, you creep.”

—-------

After dinner and a beer on the porch, the boys retired to their respective positions on the couch while Eddie rolled a joint. The movie Ghostbusters was on TV, but it was interrupted by a string of commercials, and Steve tucked his foot under him on the opposite end of the couch while he watched Eddie lick the paper.

“Okay if I have a drag?” Steve asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles.

Eddie snapped a look at him and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, hell yes. You think you can handle it?” The metalhead sat back, rolling the piece between his fingers, and then he wet one end and grabbed his lighter.

“I can handle whatever you can handle, Munson.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Harrington,” Eddie smirked and took a stiff inhale before passing it to his friend.

Steve’s ex-wife had insisted on a very straight-edge lifestyle, and he hadn’t had a whiff of weed in almost 3 years, so he took a cautious pull.

And then he coughed, and banged his chest, and spittle flew from his wet lips.

“Damn, alright,” Eddie hummed. “I take it back, you are a badass.”

“Shit,” Steve could feel the drug seeping into his bloodstream and his senses. “Feels good. Feels kinda…tingly.”

“Ahh if only to have your tolerance again,” Eddie mused, taking another long drag. The show came back on, and the Ghostbusters were checking out the slime and stacks of books in the library.

They watched a few minutes of the movie while Eddie continued to smoke. He offered it to Steve again, but he passed.

“Hey, do you remember that one time we watched a porno together?” Steve just blurted it out from nowhere, completely unprompted.

Still, Eddie knew exactly which porn he was talking about, and the exact night that it happened.

“I think so,” Eddie tapped his ash out. “Maybe. Were we at my old place?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen. “It was the summer you graduated, and Wayne was at work and you were like ‘hey Steve, wanna watch some vampire ass fucking?”

Eddie scoffed. “Shut up, that is not what I said.”

“Well,” Steve was clearly exaggerating, chuckling to himself. “That’s what they were doing.”

The movie was called, “Bloodsucking Orgy” and it was a bisexual vampire porn. But the actors were wearing fake, plastic teeth, and the cheap makeup dripped off of their faces as they fucked, but it was some of the hottest shit Eddie had ever seen at the time.

What Steve didn’t tell him was that he had to pull over to jerk off in his car that night, not only thinking about the raw breeding on film, but the way Eddie had palmed himself over his jeans, clearly aroused. That was the first night, all those years ago, when Steve had first questioned his sexuality.

“I had that vhs with me for a long time,” Eddie held in a tight breath and then released a large plume of smoke. “It was under my bed in a box for years, but I think my ex took it.”

“Trevor?” Steve asked, thinking of the last boyfriend that Eddie had introduced to him that he didn’t like. Come to think of it, he hadn’t approved of any guy or girl Eddie had dated in a long while; In Steve’s mind, no one was good enough for his best friend.

“Nah,” Eddie lowered his chin, shyly. “I only dated him for like, a week. It was barely a handjob. I’m talking about Jake, the one with the mohawk.”

“The guy who juggled bowling pins at the fair?” Steve rolled his eyes. “I swear, you know how to pick them, Munson.”

Eddie squinted across the couch at his friend as another commercial came on. Maybe the weed was a little stronger that night but, was Steve…jealous?

Steve stole a long glance at Eddie when he got up to use the bathroom, taking in the curve of his muscles under the thin white Hanes of his t-shirt and the arc of his resting cock under his sweats.

They watched a bit more of the movie, speaking the lines to the parts they knew by heart.

“I’m going to miss this when you go,” Eddie muttered.

Steve’s apartment would be ready by Monday, and Eddie was dreading the lonely nights when Steve wasn’t there on the couch with him.

“I’ll be just down the road, man,” Steve assured, taking a sip of his beer. “I thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair, so you could get back to your bachelor pad life.”

Eddie figured Steve was just confused, so he decided to jog his memory. “I haven’t so much as gone on a date with anyone in almost a year. This is hardly a rockin’ bachelor pad.”

For some reason, this gave Steve a sense of relief.

Ghostbusters ended and Eddie told Steve to wait right where he was, as if he’d go anywhere, since the couch was also his bed.

When Eddie sauntered back from the dark hallway, he was carrying two black, clamshell vhs covers. They were blank on the outside, with no words on the spine, and Steve knew exactly what they were, even from far away.

“Let me guess,” he raised his eyebrow. “Bloodsucking Orgy Part 2?”

Eddie chuckled. “Close! No, but they are just as bad.”

Steve adjusted himself in a way that made Eddie look over his shoulder as he put the tape in the vcr. “You okay with this? I figured…for old time’s sake?”

“Sure, yeah, why not?” Steve ran his fingers through his hair a few times and adjusted the collar of his tee because suddenly he felt very hot.

To say that Eddie was testing Steve would be wrong. Eddie had no idea that the events in Bloodsucking Orgy had been a bit of a sexual awakening for his friend.

The actions in the movie would turn Eddie on, sure, but he could control himself for a few minutes if it meant being able to get a laugh at the way Steve’s face twisted up at the ridiculousness of it all.

The credits came on to let you know that this was a “Two Dicks, One Hole Production” and the boys clapped.

There was about 3 minutes of what you’d call “plot” where a bunch of zombies stormed inside this woman’s house while she was having a tupperware party, and then they were suddenly all compelled to have sex.

“Look out, Scorsese,” Steve bubbled a laugh into the palm of his hand.

Eddie clucked his tongue. “No one appreciates good cinema these days.”

One zombie had its head between a woman’s legs on the table while one of her friends squatted down on her face and rode her tongue.

Some of the husbands came by to rescue their wives, but then they ended up getting dicked down as well. It was all purely entertaining at first, but all of a sudden, Steve felt his cock twitch. He palmed himself over his boxers, and looked over to find that Eddie was doing the same thing.

Eddie glanced over and caught Steve staring at him while he touched himself and suddenly, he wasn’t at all interested in the movie anymore.

“Why does it--” Steve started, swallowing hard. "Why does it always look like it feels so good?"

“What?” Eddie rested his head on the back of the couch. “Being attacked by a flesh-eating zombie?”

“No,” Steve nibbled at his lip. “When they put it…in their ass…like that. The dudes I mean.”

Eddie couldn’t even hear the sound from the tv anymore, his ears were ringing. “Because it does feel good, sometimes, when the right cock is in your ass.”

Steve’s breath hitched at the tone of Eddie’s voice. “You like the feel of it, don’t you?”

Eddie couldn't help himself; he cupped his balls under the blanket. “Yeah, um, I do.”

“I’ve wondered about it,” Steve admitted in a whisper, sliding a hand down slowly to palm himself over his jeans. He was getting hard and needed the friction. “I've wondered what it would feel like. I think I might like it.”

“You do?” Eddie’s voice was low.

Was this really happening? Was Steve just shooting the shit? Or was he trying to throw clues down? If so, how should he handle it? He’d masturbated to this scenario so many times in his life but had no idea how he would make his move in real time.

Steve hadn't planned this. He'd had thoughts about Eddie before, sure, but he never imagined he'd do anything about it while he was staying at his place. How embarrassing would it be if his friend rejected him? He had to play it cool so he could make it out like he was kidding if that happened.

With a surge of adrenaline, Steve scooted closer, and his friend met him in the middle of the couch.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Steve’s eyes searched the other pair of chocolate orbs, and they were so close now, Eddie’s pulse was skyrocketing. “I don’t want this to make anything weird between us.”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” Eddie mumbled. There was a voice in his head screaming at him not to miss his chance. He pinched the front of Steve’s shirt. “We could experiment, if you want? What are best friends for?”

Eddie knew there was a platonic best friend line in the sand that was about to be crossed, and it could never be uncrossed, but the way Steve was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes made him not care one single goddamn bit.

He’d do anything for Steve. Even if it meant he was just another “experimental experience” for a straight guy.

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and as much as he wanted it, Eddie pulled his head back.

“Say it,” Eddie muttered.

Steve squeezed himself through his boxers and frowned, confused. “Say what?”

Eddie moved in close again, brushing Steve’s lips with his. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Steve choked on the words at first, and then he told Eddie what he needed to hear.

Their mouths met in a frenzy of clumsy tongues and cries, and then they made their way to the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they went.

It wasn’t long before Eddie was naked next to Steve on the bed, pushing a lubed finger inside him one knuckle at a time. “Is that okay?” He kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. His friend’s eyes were closed, but Eddie’s were wide open—he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Yes—fuck,” Steve squirmed, but his hips were moving down, needing Eddie deeper. He gripped Eddie’s back with one hand, and the other came up to fist his own length where it throbbed.

Eddie moved his head down, his hair dragging along his companion's chest. “Let me,” he mumbled. Steve held it at the base so that the metalhead could take the swollen, leaking tip into his mouth. Now he was twirling his tongue around the head and fucking his finger inside of his best friend. He savored the taste of the salty tang, making lewd noises as he sucked and swallowed.

Eddie’s mouth was magic, and Steve was hiccupping erotic sighs. “Tell me again, why did we wait this long?” He chuckled, and Eddie smiled around the gift in his mouth, both of them caught in mutual disbelief and bliss.

“You feel that?” Eddie came up for air long enough to ask, pupils blown, rubbing deep onto Steve’s prostate with purpose.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Steve shuddered. He bent his knees up and placed his feet on the mattress so that he could arch his pelvis up to give better access. “I think...I think I need more,” he breathed.

Eddie chanced a look up at his friend: his head was back, throat exposed, and–oh shit— he loved seeing what he was doing to him. The way that he was the one giving Steve Harrington this much pleasure, to be the one to make him unravel.

The second finger went in, stretching him, and Steve’s muscle squeezed around Eddie’s digits so tight, it made his cock ache to take their place. The phalange in question was tucked against Steve’s hip, aching, and he rutted it there a few times, leaving a snail trail of juice on his partner’s skin.

“Move this leg,” Eddie advised, and Steve licked his lips, watching every move, hoping to god that he did not stop fucking him. He was switching positions now, getting in between Steve’s thighs.

Steve used the slick from Eddie’s saliva to work the tip of his cock a few times as his eyes roamed the wash of tattoos over his friend’s sinewy muscles, and the guitar pick necklace that swayed against his chest.

“Does this feel okay?” Eddie buried the second finger in and scissored them to stretch out Steve’s hole, feeling the resistance throb in his own balls.

Steve winced with a hiss, and Eddie’s hand stilled, but then Steve’s eyes snapped open. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop.”

Eddie was quick to lower his head to take over the tending of Steve’s huge member, making his friend moan long and hard.

When he looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, and the way his arm moved in and out between his legs, listening to the soft, wet, sucking sounds, Steve started to have some real feelings. They were feelings he was afraid to think, let alone say out loud.

“I-I need you inside of me, Eddie,” Steve managed. “I need you to fuck me right now.”

Eddie rose up, staring into Steve’s eyes as he took his fingers out to put the head of his dripping cock against the slip of Steve’s hole, rubbing it up and down. “Are you sure?” Eddie mumbled. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Me neither,” Steve blinked a few times, liking the way Eddie bit his bottom lip and searched his face.

Eddie’s heart was about to explode in his chest. He imagined bits of his heart and cum sprayed everywhere when his strewn body parts were found the next morning.

After a few moments of working the tip through and moaning at the way his hole sucked him in, Eddie leaned forward and pressed into Steve, spreading him open, letting him give a silent scream into his mouth. Eddie braced his partner’s hips, trembling at the sensation as he clenched around him.

Once he sank all the way in, Eddie intertwined his fingers with Steve’s above his head and began to move.

“The way you’re gripping me—holy shit,” Eddie murmured against his mouth. “Does that feel okay?”

“It feels…so fucking good,” Steve hushed. “Don’t stop.”

Steve’s bent legs were up now, and Eddie was thrusting against him, deep and hard, unable to hold back the emotions that drove his movements. Steve’s body bent so that his stomach wrinkled as Eddie found a mouth-watering pace, his guitar pick swinging in the air.

Foreheads pressed together, Eddie said, “wrap your legs around me,” and that’s when it happened; that’s when Steve could feel the coil snap in his stomach as Eddie drove into him with purpose.

Eddie grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled tight, yanking his head to the side, making him whimper.

“Cum inside me, Eddie—” Steve cried.

Eddie gave a strangled gasp at his words, because he was close, but it didn’t take long to slide one hand between them to find Steve’s leaking tip to help him along.

“I’m gonna cum in your tight little asshole,” breathless, Eddie was pounding him now, and neither one of them cared if the wet slapping sounds could be heard next door.

It was all Eddie could do not to declare his love then; to tell Steve that it had always been him, and it would be him forever after. “I’m so in love with you,” he wanted to say, and the thought alone made his orgasm rise.

The way Eddie made him feel so full would have been enough, but then his friend’s strong, calloused hand was yanking at his cock and Steve began to convulse under him. “Oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Eddie, I’m cumming!”

First of all, did Steve just call him baby?

But then there was no time to consider it because there were warm ropes of his release shooting between them, and Steve’s muscle gripped Eddie’s length over and over, milking him.

The way Steve cried out made Eddie’s movements erratic as he emptied himself, scooting closer, and bending his friend more in half to get deeper, to keep pumping with each aching grunt.

“Shit, you feel amazing,” Eddie cursed as everything got slippery and he could feel his seed leaking out between them.

Once they both came down from their highs, Eddie pulled himself out of Steve and kissed his knee before shimmying off the bed.

“Damn,” Steve looked down at himself, at the spray of jizz that began to pool in his belly button and noticed the sensation of Eddie’s release dripping down his ass. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Hold on, I got it,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth, brushing hair out of his face, and Steve watched him climb onto the bed to nestle between his thighs again. His cock was still half-hard, bobbing in the air as if it were already preparing for another round.

Eddie had the wet rag ready, but then the cum glistening on Steve’s stomach gave him other ideas.

“Are you giving me all that sweet aftercare now?” Steve scoffed.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows before bending down to lap at Steve’s bellybutton with his tongue. “You’re my guest.”

The feeling of his friend’s tongue dragging along his sensitive flesh was about to make Steve erect again, and he writhed at the sensation, eventually scooting further away, up against the headboard. Eddie watched him go, not sure what he’d done wrong, and passed him the washcloth.

Steve was having a hard time looking at his best friend now. Maybe because it had been the best orgasm of his life? Maybe because the past hour had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself?

He didn’t know what to do with the towel when he was done, so he handed it to Eddie, and he tossed it to the ground with a flop.

Eddie was about to move up next to Steve to kiss him, or at least sit next to him, but instead Steve got up off the bed and bent down to put his boxers on.

“So, does this mean—” Steve stammered, keeping his back to Eddie. “Does this mean that I—that I’m a bottom?”

Eddie was about to chuckle as he stretched long on the mattress and put his head in his hand, but then he realized Steve was asking a serious question.

“Did you enjoy it?” Eddie asked, cautiously.

“Um, yeah,” Steve bent down to pick up his shirt. “Obviously I did.”

That response elicited a quiver of a smile from Eddie, putting parentheses on either side of his mouth.

Eddie exhaled a long breath and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “It means…whatever you want it to mean. I’m not one to really care for labels.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve nod, taking in the information. He went to sit at the edge of the bed, fully clothed now, and Eddie ran a hand down his chest, thinking of his next words.

“We could always try it…the other way,” he said it so nonchalantly, and it made Steve turn his head, curiosity piqued.

“The other way?”

“You know,” now it was Eddie averting his eyes. “You could fuck next time, if you want. If you want to try it, I mean. See if you like it.”

“Next time, huh?” Steve ran a hand up and down his face. “I don’t know, man, this is —kinda blowing my mind right now.”

“I get it,” Eddie could feel a familiar heartache rising in his throat. “We could just forget this ever happened, if you want.”

There was a heavy silence then, thick and weighty with the fear of the unknown.

“No, I don’t want that,” Steve whispered.

Eddie lifted his head up. “You don’t?” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat and sat up to brace his elbows behind him.

Steve stood and put his hands on his hips before turning to his friend again. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I want to keep doing this,” he muttered. “But I don’t know what that means.”

“Hey,” Eddie scooted himself down so that he was sitting close to where Steve was standing, legs off the bed, and looked up at him. “We’re the only ones allowed to define this…whatever is happening between us. No one else.”

And the next thing you knew, Steve surprised himself for the second time that night, by going over to stand in front of Eddie. He brushed a few strands of his outdated bangs off of his forehead and Eddie closed his eyes to bask in the attention.

But his eyes opened when he felt Steve lower his head and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders. His mouth was so close now, and their noses slotted together. “I think I need to kiss you again,” he hushed.

Eddie’s hands went to the hips of Steve’s shorts, making fists in the material; he could feel himself getting hard again already.

“You better fucking do it, then, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled.

Once their lips met, tongues were quick to follow, and then they were crashing into the kiss and Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck. He had so many questions, and so many concerns about what this would look like to the outside world, to his friends and estranged family. But, in that moment, nothing mattered more than getting as close to this person he loved as he possibly could.

He wanted to be inside of him.

Eddie dropped to his knees and took Steve’s boxers with him, making Steve curse once he was back inside Eddie’s warm mouth.

Eddie pulled back to spit on the head, connecting a string of saliva to his mouth when he looked up to stare into his companions' eyes.

“You know where I want to put that,” Steve told the man on his knees.

Eddie’s moan was full of yearning. “I want you to fill me up,” and then he licked down the shaft and spit again until it was soaked. Eddie sucked his finger and then snaked it back to push the tip into Steve’s clenching muscle while he gave kitten licks to the freshly juiced pre-cum.

Steve jumped. “Fuck, baby—you’ll make me cum like that,” he barked a laugh.

Eddie’s smile was huge—-holy shit, he was so in love—-but then he stood to full height and grabbed Steve by the throat to kiss him. “We’ve got all night.”

Steve found his partner's rock-hard length and began to roll back the foreskin with a firm grip. He had no idea what he was doing but decided to go with whatever felt right. “Bend over,” Steve told him, taking a fist full of his hair. “Get on the bed.”

Steve’s tone made Eddie clench, and his balls were preparing for duty again.

Steve stepped out of his boxers and took his shirt off, keeping his attention on Eddie’s ass, and the way it was on full display for him now.

“The lube is in the—” Eddie started, but Steve silenced him with a “shush”.

“You’re a big boy, Harrington,” Eddie continued. “I don’t want to get ripped open toni—-”

But then big hands were spreading his cheeks apart and an eager tongue was dancing around his asshole.

Eddie pushed his hips back and the tongue dove inside. “Does that feel good?” Steve asked in between licks.

“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed.

With that new burst of encouragement, Steve slid his thumb in, making the metalhead throw his head back.

Steve considered the logistics of it all for a moment, and then: “Can you get on your side?”

He moved into position without question. Steve didn’t have the nerve to say it, but he wanted to see Eddie; he wanted to be able to look at his face when he came. When they were both ready, Eddie rubbed the lube on his friend’s generous length, and then Steve squirted a bit on that pink, puckered spot, and Eddie yelped at the cold sensation.

More low chuckles, more tender laughter.

Eddie watched over his shoulder at the way Steve was concentrating as he lined the tip up. His best friend was so fucking beautiful, and he hoped to god it wasn’t a dream. Steve straddled Eddie’s bottom leg, while his top bent to the side, twisting at his hip.

Steve stammered a few curse words when he sank in an inch, halting. “Oh shit, I had no idea how tight—holy fuck Munson.”

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” Eddie mumbled into the pillow.

Steve groaned long and hard with each thrust, pushing himself in, taking his time, and then pulling out a bit until his hips were almost flush with Eddie’s ass.

“You like it when I stretch you out, don’t you?”

Eddie’s jaw went slack, and he reached down to touch himself, rutting into the mattress.

Steve buried himself inside Eddie, spreading his cheeks apart to watch. “Tell me I’m the only one who fills you up like this.”

“You’re the only one,” Eddie was whimpering now, trembling with lust and love. “I need you to start moving right now, Harrington!”

Steve was snapping his hips then, pounding Eddie just the way he wanted. The sounds escaping both of them were egging each other on, and Steve held Eddie’s leg up to get a better angle.

“It’s never felt this good,” Steve blurted. “Look at me.”

Eddie turned his head to meet his partner’s hooded gaze, sweaty hair sticking to his cheek. What if he said, “I love you”? What then? Because it was right there on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m so close, Eddie,” Steve’s movements stuttered a bit. “I need to see you.”

It was only a few more seconds of that intense eye contact before Steve was losing every last bit of himself inside his friend, slapping their skin even harder together as warm wetness filled the space. Steve’s toes curled on the mattress, and he threw his head back, holding onto Eddie's leg so that he didn’t fall over.

Being inside Eddie, to share something like that with him, felt so right and so perfect, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

He flipped his partner over so that he was on his back, neglected cock straining against his tattooed stomach, and Steve bent over to put it into his mouth.

“Steve—!” Eddie was already about to blow his load before those soft lips were on him, but now his balls were tightening up close to his body. “I’m so close, I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

Steve nodded, humming on his friend’s swollen length as the salty spill poured over his tongue and he drank it down with eager swallows. Eddie writhed, shaking as he came.

They showered together again after that, and Steve found out about Eddie’s insatiable appetite when they jerked each other off one more time before they found sleep. They were all a tangle of limbs and legs, hot breath against the skin of each other’s throats.

The next two days brought much of the same. They had dinner together when Eddie got home from work and held hands in front of the tv. Until hand holding turned to touching and it was time for Steve to experiment being inside Eddie from a different angle. They both lost count of the number of times they came inside of each other. Well, Steve lost count. For Eddie, each one was precious and something he cherished.

On the third day, while the Saturday morning cartoons were on, Eddie’s head was in Steve’s lap while he played with his hair and rubbed his scalp. Eddie’s eyes were rolling back in his head, and he suddenly understood why cats purr. It all felt so natural, hidden away there in Eddie’s cozy trailer with the curtains drawn, like the rest of the world didn’t even exist.

But then there came the sound of footsteps bounding up to the porch, and someone tried the door handle before offering a few quick knocks.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” The woman’s voice exclaimed. “Open up, this is the police.”

Steve’s eyes bulged and he practically pushed Eddie to the ground, trying to cover himself with the blanket. He was wearing his boxer shorts, but it made him feel very exposed.

Eddie’s hair was a mess when he sat up, and he gave Steve a curious frown. “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Robin.”

“I know,” Steve took a breath. “It just startled me, that’s all.”

Eddie threw a pillow in Steve’s face and shouted, “coming!”

“No, no, wait!” Steve lurched up and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him back down to the couch.

Eddie gave him a few confused shakes of his head. “Are you losing it man? You knew she had the day off and might come over.”

“It’s not that,” Steve was whispering. “I want to see her I just—did you tell her…does she know…about us?”

Eddie’s face sobered. “When would I have a chance to tell her? I’ve spent every free second with you.”

“Okay good,” Steve’s shoulders sank, showing that he was clearly relieved. “Let’s keep it between us, alright? I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Anyone…ever?” Eddie was searching his companion’s eyes, hoping to find that same glimmer from the past couple days there, but it was gone. He understood that coming out could be complicated and difficult, and he didn’t think Steve would be shouting it from the hills, but surely Robin could know? They were the three amigos, the best of friends. If anyone would embrace him for exactly who he was and who he wanted to have sex with, it would be her.

Maybe he just needed more time, and that was fine, Eddie had plenty of it.

Robin knocked again, more forceful this time. “What the hell? I’m growing mold out here.”

Eddie remained still, passing his tongue over his teeth, and thought about what Steve was asking of him.

“I’m going to put some clothes on,” Steve got to his feet and jogged out of sight, to the bedroom, leaving Eddie to sit there, feeling the weight of being a secret, yet again.

“Hey!” Steve hissed from the hallway where he struggled to pull his jeans on while Eddie walked to the door. “Could you light a candle or something? It smells like sex in here.”

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.

Anything for you, King Steve.

-----

Hi! Thank you for reading! Always love hearing from you. Look out for part 2 🧡

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steddie smut #older!steddie #intimacy smut #bisexual!eddie munson #Steddie romance #steve x eddie #Stranger Things smut #Steve Harrington fic #Steddie fanfiction

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stainedstardom · 1 year

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This is the first time I request a ff if it sounds weird I’m sorry but can you do like a Yn Meeks X Ethan Landry (She is the Little Sister of Chad and Mindy) and the Plot is that She is in a Secret Relationship with Ethan and Her Siblings didn’t know about their relationship until they saw them together. Like I said I’m sorry if it sounds weird this is my first time requesting something. Hopefully I didn’t make it sound difficult but I’m really sorry if I did. ALSO I LOVE YOUR FFs THEY ARE SO GOOD

thank you for trusting me with your first request lovely!!

SECRET

ethan landry x meeks-martin!fem reader

ever since everything had happened in woodsboro, chad and Mindy felt the need to watch over you and everything you did. when you lost wes due to him dying and then amber was the killer. it all hurt too much and you couldn't go through that loss again.

but here you were in new york, blackmore academy had became home to you and anyone else you knew. tara, mindy, chad , it was your home and sam had came to new york with you.

but when you met ethan, your brothers roommate who had a bright smile and curly brown hair that you knew you could run your fingers through and hold. you had been shot by the love arrow.

but you had to keep it a secret, you couldn't let chad or mindy know that you and ethan were together. they couldn't know, who knows what they would do if they found out and that was your biggest fear. what they would do when they found out that you and ethan had been dating.

going on dates, holding hands, you had been wearing his clothes, he had been buying you flowers, you had matching necklaces, he would always stare at you. the signs were right there and they couldn't even see them so they must be blind

"why cant we just tell them?" ethan asked you one day as you sat in your dorm. you didn't have a roommate luckily and the dorm was big enough for you. so you laid on your bed with ethan as you ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"because my last boyfriend" you stated

"wes right?" he asked and you nodded

"yeah, so when richie and amber did what they did, they killed him and I was never the same. i locked myself in my room for months and didn't talk to anyone. they don't want that to happen again. so they cant know or they'll make me stay away from you" you explained and he sighed.

"im sorry" he said and you shrugged

"not your fault" you said and he leaned up to kiss you, that's when the dorm door was pushed open and chad stood in the doorway with Mindy

"what in the everloving fuckfest?" mindy asked as you and ethan pulled away. chad had an angry look in his eye.

"no no no" chad said and he walked over to ethan. he grabbed his collar and pulled him off of the bed

"what did i tell you about my little sister ethan?" he asked

"chad" you tried

"don't y/n" mindy said and you scoffed making them both turn to you. never once had you stood up for yourself against them and they knew that. they treated you like a five year old and you were tired of it.

"what?" mindy asked

"im an 18 year old girl, im going to have boyfriends, im going to have sex and you just have to deal with that. i know my own limits, I know you're worried about me and after wes, it was hard for me but I'm working through that and I finally feel okay" you stated

"y/n" mindy said

"im not done, im my own women, i know what I'm doing. yes I know that I could lose ethan, I know that the killers could come back, I know that we might be chased for the rest of our lives. i know everything but you cant take care of me forever and you can't protect me forever. this is my life and my relationship so deal with it" you stated and chad stared at you

"fine, but if he breaks your heart im breaking him" chad said and you nodded.

"i know, now can you please get out so I can spend time with my boyfriend?" you asked

"god im going to hate hearing that, lets go chad" mindy said and she led her twin out as they waved and closed the door, ethan turned to you

"wasnt how i was going to tell them but okay" you said and he laughed.

"we're not a secret anymore" he said as he put his hands on your face and smiled

"we're not" you said and he leaned and kissed you with a smile.

and just like that, you weren't a secret

A/N: was i smiling while writing this? yes yes I was

#ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #scream fanfic #scream #jack champion #ethan landry imagine

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prof-peach · 6 months

Text

Yknow what I don’t ever get to dive into this one, so for my own holiday fun, let’s elaborate on the ranger AU:

The girls are room mates, rivals for a long while, the tape line that divides their shared space like a battle zone.

Plum is obsessively neat about her books but otherwise is chaos, clothes everywhere, shoes scattered. Bed is about the only thing she makes and keeps clear to sit and work, desk is a mess of research notes and dog eared manuals. Her dratini is utter chaos, unruly doesn’t even describe how Missy is. Plum was raised in a very well off household but her family never came home, work keeping them almost completely busy. This leaves one girl who knows what she’s all about because she had to figure it out, plum is just as wild and chaotic as her Pokemon in her own snooty kind of way. Very particular teenager.

Meanwhile peach has never been allowed to be a kid, she was told what to do and when to do it, hobbies we’re chosen for her, free time used up working hard, training harder, her Pokemon just as pushed to keep up standards. The prodigal daughter put on a pedestal has nothing but pressure from day one. She doesn’t listen to music, have toys or hobbies, even her clothes are plain and not really things you’d fully expect a teenager to wear. She had to just go with her family always pushing her to do what they want and be who they expected. Failure was not met well. Her personal space is painfully tidy, purely because she doesn’t really have much to fill the space at the start. Val is volatile at best, but Bob keeps his sunny disposition, often out in the dorm room happily.

Plum soon realises peach has not developed a personal taste of her own, and cannot understand how that just never happened. So begins her task of getting peach to find things she likes and enjoys. None of her skills sound like things that excite her, peach is this dead pan teenager with no fire for anything. Her hot head rears up when she’s backed into a corner, so when pushed too hard peach snaps, she doesn’t know what she’s suppose to like or do, out of her family home she can only sit and watch others and try to assimilate quietly. A skill she’s quite good at, so most just assume she’s cold and distant by nature, an angry face leading to most leaving her alone.

Plum proceeds to open up a whole world of things for a teenager who never got the chance to just exist without an objective. Music, junk food, staying up late to play games or gossip. They sneak out to town, maybe they steal some overly sweet awful booze, maybe they hide it in their dorm to stay up and talk some nights. Plum gets peach to pick clothes she wants, tries to encourage her to care about anything noticing she’s got piercings, so like…punk?? Is that her thing? No clue, but it’s the total opposite to plums sporty preppy cute outfits, so together they look like night and day.

Their initial arguing and dislike of each other eases off fast, peach realises that maybe not everyone is so awful, and that she’s been stuck with a highly intelligent if not a little scatter brained girl who actually encourages her to live, not just simply exist. It is tentative steps into realising she is more than the weight of her family name.

Other dumb teenager things: peach pierces plums ears for her. Ranger team work tasks that the girls smash through. Late night dorm activities with the other students, you know, typical junk like spin the bottle and such.

Plum 100% is cocky and straightforward during a party and makes sure peach never lives down that she stole the grouchy girls first kiss, etched into her memory forever.

Peach realising “oh no. Very very not straight. Oh no.” To which she’s in deep denial and horrified, because her family CANNOT find out. Seeing as her mom likes to dig through her memories from time to time, peach is utterly terrified to go home.

Plum seeing her roommate return from a weekend back at her family house looking more exhausted and worn out than when she left. Never asks why, never pries, tries to be cheery and help peach not feel so crappy. Peach can’t ever tell her what she’s done, or the guilt she’s carrying around, and as they grow closer, it becomes harder to lie.

Then Booker happens, where the story line splits from canon to the ranger AU. Instead of peach taking the little mon and running, leaving plum without more than a ‘sorry’ and an old bangle on the dorm door handle, she instead cracks, can’t hide the truth anymore, packs up to leave, but can’t go without telling someone, anyone that she’s been a monster, and has to change. Has to do better than she had before. Through tears and drama the truth comes out, plum learns it all, and sees her best friend with a bag on her shoulder, running away.

Through a convincing speech and an understanding and grounded view on the situation plum gets peach to stay, with her, with the rangers, they’ll face it together. For once peach does not want to feel so alone, everything she’s ever done has been singular, even though she’s been surrounded by people pulling her strings, it’s never been because of care or love, just progress. ‘The family comes first’ echos in her mind, and she has to stop this cycle. So peach stays, is deathly afraid her family will hurt plum for getting involved, she hardly sleeps for a while, making sure the night is safe, that no one’s trying to tamper with the path she’s trying to stay on. A good one. A kinder one with less bloodshed.

Plum encouraged peach to take up boxing, for her anger, so she joins a club and finds a love for it. The gains begin, and plum is at every fight, shouting from the side lines. Peach loses a few and takes it really badly. Loss in her family is usually cause for punishment, for isolation or consequence. She expects the same from plum, shocked when it never comes. Her partner is nothing but worried bout the bruises, but seems very encouraging. This is not what was expected.

Plenty of later year teenage shenanigans. Usual suspects, figuring out things like future career options, sexuality, the parties, sneaking out, stress over exams, first hangovers, smoking a little pot after handing in final coursework as a celebration. Peach finds herself, but both girls find a family in each other. Thick as thieves, forever entangled in each others memories now.

The girls grow as rangers, have a few run ins with peach’s cousins but otherwise are left with only a few scars, scrapes and bruises, and eventually they graduate, top of their class none the less. The powerhouse duo that others couldn’t compete with.

Plums become the agile ranger she was meant to be, strategist, a woman who knows every option before you even take your first move, but she lacks practical instinct and brutality, which is peach’s area of expertise. It’s head and heart at it’s most perfect balance.

————————————————

I have so many little headcanons bout this alt set up, but I’m tired, it’s the holidays, and I wanted to blurt this one out. Sorry to all for putting up with me haha

Give me peach gut laughing for the first time and plum realising she’s totally mad for this person.

Give me ranger prom/graduation where they both dress up and get to sneak off and dance together.

Give me chaotic but perfectly drift compatible fights with them and their Pokemon.

Give me prank wars, makeup help, hair style tests, bad hair dye attempts, pizza hang outs.

Give me plum learning how to train Missy well with peach’s help.

Give me adoptive momma bears for Booker.

Give me them laughing so hard one of them nearly throws up at something so stupid and dumb.

Give me the moment that penny drops and they realise they can’t move forward without each other.

I am thriving on this.

#so much dumb shit they’d do #prof.peach #ranger plum #pokemon #tw alchohol mention #tw drugs

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thelastofharrington · 1 year

Note

43, 47, or 85 for joel? ❤️❤️❤️❤️

anything for you! how about something slow and sweet??

if you want to send me some smutty dialogue prompts, im going off of this list hehe

43: “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

warnings/tags: smut!! minors dni!!!, oral (m receiving), f!reader, unprotected sex, intimate, slow sex, joel is the perfect lay, mutual pining

Joel had been gone for several days. Off doing some trading and negotiating, and then working some shifts at the QZ that required him to be gone on the opposite schedule of you. You hadn't seen him in what felt like forever. But tonight, tonight that was going to change.

You and Joel weren't dating per se. No, dating in an apocalypse was fruitless and juvenile. But you were living together, not seeing other people, and consistently falling into bed together. You liked that he kept you safe and he liked that you kept him young. You also both got a lot out of the "falling into bed together " part. The part you have been missing for the last several days.

It was hedonistic and heady, the way you craved him. There were just about a million other things to worry about and prioritize, but today you made an effort to get as clean as possible, wear your least tattered clothes, and make the bed in preparation for Joel to come home from the night shift.

You were so hopped up on energy and lust that it didn't even feel like the five hours after your shift that you had to wait for his to be over, and then at 10:30 sharp, you heard the key in the door. Then you heard a thump of a bag hitting the floor, the shuffling of shoes coming off, and the dragging of tired feet against the concrete floors. Then finally, you saw the figure of the man you're almost sure you love standing in the doorway.

"Hi Joel," you drawl from your spot on the bed in your sweetest voice, making sure to bat your eyelashes.

He stops in the doorway to drink you in, looking you up and down, almost convincingly not exhausted. "Hi baby girl." It's almost a sigh of relief as it leaves his lips

Your heart breaks in your chest as you realize just how exhausted he is. You rethink your whole plan, thinking you can put your foolish cravings to the side for now. A warm body in your bed is just as nice as one between your legs. "Why don't you come to bed?"

He stalks his way over to you and stands at the edge before you, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

Maybe your cravings weren't so foolish after all, maybe he wants this as bad as you do. "Depends, is it working."

He pulls you by the under side of your knees to the edge of the bed so he's slotted between your thighs. "Something's working all right."

He leans down to kiss you and you let him. You let him because you need him to, and you think he might need it too. You let him because you missed him and you've grown accustomed to the way his five o'clock shadow scratches you ever so slightly. You let him because you love him, even if you're too afraid to admit it out loud.

The one kiss slowly turns into lots of little ones as he guides you onto your back, and then lots of big, long ones as you pulls your leg up over his hip. It's getting hot and heavy quickly but still not nearly at the speed you would like. You reach down between the two of you to palm at the front of his jeans, feeling delighted by the hardened length that you find.

He groans at the contact and moves to leave some kisses on the underside of your ear, "Eager tonight, are we?"

You meet his lips again as your fingers fumble with his button and zipper, "Just missed you is all."

"Fuck- I missed you too, baby," He says as you dip your hand beneath his waist band. "Let me flip over."

Now you're the one slotted between his thighs as you continue to work his cock. He shimmies out of his jeans and boxers while never taking his eyes off of you.

He's nice and hard for you as you lean down, mouth open, tongue out. You take him in your mouth all the way in one fell swoop, eliciting some crude remarks from your roommate/lover.

"Fuck that mouth is so wet baby."

"You take it so good."

"Treat me so nice, baby."

You're encouraged by his obscenities so you pick up the pace, your mouth bobbing faster and faster as you attempt to take all of him as much as possible. He holds you hair back for you, so you expect him to guide you at an even more intense pace like he normally does, but instead, he lifts you off of him completely.

"Woah, slow down darlin'. I’m not going anywhere."

You open your mouth to apologize before he continues, "If you want me to fuck you, we gotta slow down a notch. And I know you want me to fuck you."

You swallow your gasp and nod before going back to his cock, licking up his precum slowly while making deep eye contact with him.

He throws his head back, "Fuck baby, going slow is gonna kill me too." He looks down again at you worshipping his cock slowly, just like he told you to. "You're such a good girl for me baby, taking me nice and slow just like I tell you to. You'd do anything I told you to, wouldn't you?"

You try to reply but your mouth his full of him, so it just comes out as a gargle that reverberates off his cock so deliciously he groans again, tightening the grip he has in your hair. "Gimme that pussy baby I'm not gonna last long with you on your knees like that."

You immediately get up, take off your clothes, and assume your normal position, doggy style. He normally likes to be able to slap your ass, pull your hair, and drill into you from behind with all the power he can conjure up.

"Not tonight, hon. Tonight I want to look in those pretty eyes while I make you cum on my cock."

Your center tightens around nothing at his words. Obediently, you turn over to lay on your back, taking a pillow and putting it under your hips to prepare for the best angle possible.

He lines his cock up with your cunt, "Good girl, all ready for me. You look so pretty like this, darlin'. I'm one lucky son of a bitch"

You blush and cover your face, suddenly embarrassed by his nice words.

He moves your hands away from your face gently before rubbing a thumb over your cheek, "None of that tonight. Tonight I want to see all of you."

You nod and wait for him to slide in. You know you're already so wet for him, but you're excited for him to find out for himself. He groans as soon as the tip of his cock touches your folds, signaling to you that he feels your slickness as much as you do.

"So wet for me already and I haven't even touched you. How'd I get so lucky?" He says before he slides all the way in.

"Been thinking about this all day," You admit.

Inch by inch he slowly enters you, "Oh yeah?" He asks, trying to keep his composure, "Thinking about this big cock in that pussy?"

Finally, he bottoms out inside of you and you mewl loudly at the sensation of being so full of him. "Yes Joel, please fuck me baby," You barely sputter out.

He needs no further instructions before he lazily and lovingly starts pulling in and out. He's usually rough with you, hitting your cervix over and over until you can barely walk the next day. But tonight, tonight he's pulling all the way out before pistoning back in just so. It's the exact intensity you need, but you also know it's what he needs too. He's meeting you in the middle to give you exactly what you want but still savoring every last second with you.

You're both moaning and heaving as he continues to fuck you. Eventually he moves one of your ankles over his shoulder, stretching you out and deepening the angle even more.

You lose track of where your head's at and just start thanking him between each thrust. "Thank you for fucking me Joel," You cry out, "I needed that big cock baby, I needed it so bad."

"Anything for my girl baby, anything at all," His thrusts start to grow sloppy as he reaches his climax, "What do you need from me to make you cum?"

"My clit, please," You sob out as he propels himself into you particularly deep.

"Yes baby, keep tensing like that and I'm gonna cum," He grunts out as he plays with your cunt. He knows you're close because he can feel your walls fluttering around him, all wet and hot. It's enough to make him bust, if he wasn't so preoccupied on making sure you got there first.

Between his fingers on your clit and his cock in your pussy, you're two seconds away from one of the biggest orgasms of your life. You can feel it. His words get you there within minutes of him praising you:

"You look so pretty with my cock inside you baby."

"You are so beautiful like this, all spread out for me baby."

"Please cum for me, I want to feel you cum on my cock."

And with that, you're a goner. He was right, you would do anything he asked.

He finishes on your stomach not too long after, but you're too much in a haze of your on pleasure to notice until he comes back with a towel to clean you up.

"Thanks," You say shyly as he wipes you down.

He looks back up with you with a soft smile on his face, "Thank you. I needed that," He pauses, "I really missed you, darlin'."

You sit up on your elbows and smile back at him, "I missed you too."

The rest of the night is spent in his arms as he recounts his latest adventures, and you fall asleep soundly to the steady rhythm of his breaths. The last thing you remember thinking before you fall asleep is, "I could see myself loving him forever."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #my writing

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 11 months

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AITA (M, 20) for not supporting my best friend and roommate's (M, 21) new relationship?

-> Day 3: Fake Dating. I know that robin is a lesbian okay

I and my best friend have known each other since forever. Our relationship had a bit of a rocky start (he used to bully me, then he started dating this girl (20, F), then I punched him in the face, me and his girlfriend started getting closer and we ended up kinda cheating while on a roadtrip together (though their relationship was already falling apart anyway), she broke up with him and we got together, the three of us spent lots of time together because we had no one else, and a whole bunch of more stuff. But we worked through it.)

We both were raised in a small conservative town - which, as two bi people, was not exactly fun. He didn't even know that you could like more than one gender, and I denied this part of myself for the longest time due to being in a m/f relationship.

My (or I guess our?) ex is super smart and got into a great university far away. The plan had been for me to go with her, but I was rejected and also didn't want to live so far away from my siblings (M, 16 & F, 15). So me, my best friend, and his other best friend (F, 19) moved in together to go to another uni. Well my best friend started dating his other best friend. Like, they already used to be extremely close, but now they are touching ALL THE TIME. And she keeps whispering stuff into his ear. And they only have eyes for each other. And are all giggly the whole time. And I feel...bad. I really though I was over the internalized biphobia. Just because he is in a m/f relationship doesn't mean he is any less queer or betraying me or anything. And now I feel doubly bad because even though I know that, it doesn't stop me from feeling this way. It is just a really fucking bad situation overall. Can anyone please help me?

nosyb!tch

Can you please elaborate on the whole ex-girlfriend thing?? Wtf??!?!

photojraphy

I don't think that that particular aspect is needed to better understand my current situation. Although I must commend you for your rather accurate username.

ifyoureadthisyouareGAY

Hey. Not to be that guy. But like....did you ever consider that maybe there is another reason why you may be upset about your bf being in a relationship?

photojraphy

No.

thebestlesbean

omg u/greathairington u/greathairington u/greathairington I TOLD YOU IT WOULD FUCKING WORK GAY FANFICTION HAS NEVER LET ME DOWN

greathairington

what the fuck jon robin is literally a lesbian?!?!?!

photojraphy

what.

UPDATE: My best friend (now boyfriend!!) (M, 21) and HIS best friend (F, 19) were faking a relatonship. As it turns out, he had been into me the whole time and was by now desperate enough to agree when she had the grandiose idea to pretend to be together in order to make me jealous. This is the reason I never caught them kissing: she is a lesbian. I can't believe I didn't know that. I can't believe it actually worked. I can't believe that me punching him in the face was his bi awakening. At least this whole thing had a happy ending. I will now bury myself into a hole.

thebestlesbean

Don't let that mf fool you they are literally so disgusting rn

photojraphy

(this message was deleted due to multiple infringements of our guidelines)

@stonathanweek

Uff.....

#i know it in my soul that jonathan always ends his sentences with a . and you never know if he is being passive agressive #i have to admit i considered skipping this one because im not really a fan of this trope #but i am reasonably happy with what i came up with ^^#i hope the formatting is readable #also dont @ me i never actually used reddit #stonathan #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #stranger things drabble #stonathanweek2023 #jon is the bi version of the gay dude that forgot straight ppl exist #you only like ONE gender??!!! but like.....LOOK AT HIM! AND AT HER!!

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justanarchiveforfics · 4 months

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January svt recs

Not really magic | @twogyuu (fluff)

In which Jeonghan runs out of babysitter options, so he drops Nina off with Vernon and his girlfriend. Little do either of them know, just maybe the little girl is more capable of making them confront the questions of their future than most adults.

Bloom for me | @cass-fics (strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, smut)

Even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

Dream a little with me | @wooahaes (soulmates au, fluff)

Jeonghan knows you. He might not know your face, but you’re the person in his dreams every night. And frankly… he’s pretty sure he’s already falling for you. He just has to figure out how to find you when the world won’t let him trade names or locations or anything he can actually use. At least he knows your favorite things…

Accident prone| @wooahaes (soulmates au, fluff)

Boo Seungkwan has lived feeling someone else’s pain for over ten years. To be fair, they feel his, too: but he can’t help but worry… Is his soulmate okay?

I think we married in Vegas | @ressonancee (angst, smut)

You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

Strawberries and cigarrettes | @bobbasmultiverse (fluff, angst, friends to lovers)

two minor, what you’d call, incidents, lead up to the craziest few months of your life, where you make friendships and break some and you end with having to make the craziest choices of your life; to be young and free forever, or to have the best love of all time.

A tug in the right direction | @wooahaes (soulmates au, fluff)

Wonwoo has had the little string around his pinkie for most of his life at this point. Sometimes he feels his soulmate tugging. Sometimes he tugs back. Sometimes he can even feel the string grow tighter when his soulmate is near…

#monthly read #svt recs #svt scenarios #seventeen recs #seventeen scenarios

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be11atrixthestrange · 4 months

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The Loft 8

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

More Chapters

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In a crazy turn of events, I updated The Loft after 2 years... :)

Chapter 8

A watched egg never cooks. Is that the saying? Ron doesn’t know — he’s terrible at idioms and shit. If it’s not a saying, it’s definitely accurate.

He stands in front of the stove, waiting for his egg to fry. It’s taking forever, and he’s tempted to just leave it there, but maybe then he’d burn the whole loft down. That, or Vicky would eat it.

Vicky’s here this morning, just like he was here yesterday morning. And the morning before that. It almost feels like they have another roommate, one that doesn’t pay rent and that Ron didn’t choose. Well, he didn’t choose Hermione either, but that worked out. Sort of.

Ever since Hermione and Victor became ‘official’, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together. Ron comes home after work, Krum is here. He wakes up in the morning, Krum is still here. The only time Krum seems to spend outside of the apartment is between the hours of 9-5, and one hour at night, 8-9 pm, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Whenever Ron has asked where he goes, he gets all weird and quiet. Whenever he asks Hermione, she doesn’t seem to know or care.

“Honestly, Ron, it’s important for couples to spend time apart.”

“But Hermione, do you know where he goes?”

“No, because I respect his privacy.”

Why is Vicky the only one in this loft entitled to privacy? He often wonders when someone empties the laundry machine and leaves a trail of socks and underwear across the living room floor, or late at night when he can hear his roommates’ beds creaking, knowing they brought home a companion, a poor soul who has no idea how thin the walls are.

It begs the question, what kind of dark shit is Krum getting up to between the hours of 8 and 9pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays if he can’t even tell his girlfriend about it?

Maybe he has an embarrassing hobby. Or a gambling addiction. Or a second girlfriend.

Ron tries to ignore his heart’s fluttering in response to the last thought. What sort of friend would hope for that kind of thing?

“You might want to turn the stove on,” comes a gruff voice, interrupting Ron’s thoughts. “Or your egg will never cook.”

With a groan, Ron flicks on the burner.

“Are you okay?” asks Krum as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter. “You seem distracted.”

Ron glances back at his unwelcome roommate. His thick robe hangs loosely around his waist, forming a deep v neck that exposes Krum’s chiseled pecs and chest hair. Why can’t the dude just cover himself up a bit?

“M’fine.”

“Okay then. Look, I’m going to be out of town for the weekend—”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” interrupts Ron.

“Sorry?”

“You don’t even live here, so you don’t have to tell us when you’ll be out.”

Ron keeps his back to Krum as he lets the awkward pause wash over. Sure, maybe he should be nicer to the guy, but someone should gently tell him he’s overstaying his welcome. Hermione won’t.

“I was just going to ask if I could keep my car out front. Sometimes I get towed if I leave it out at my apartment—”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Great,” says Krum as he rises to his feet and turns back toward Hermione’s room. “Thanks.”

“Where are you going this weekend?”

“Nowhere.” The sound of Hermione’s door closing punctuates Krum’s response.

Hmm. Very odd.

Moments later, Harry appears from his bedroom door, still disheveled in his pajamas. “What’s got you down?”

“Vicky.”

“What about Viktor?”

“I’m telling you, he’s giving me the creeps.”

Harry chuckles. “Since when?”

“The cabin trip we all went on.”

Harry lets a full laugh escape, as he responds. “You’re ridiculous. He never bothered you before.”

“I think he’s cheating on Hermione.”

Harry’s eyes narrow and glances toward Hermione’s bedroom. “She doesn’t deserve that, but how do you know?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Ron—”

“I think if I went to his place, I’d find proof.” Ron raises an eyebrow at his friend, who violently shakes his head.

“No.”

“Please come with me? I’ll give you free beer.”

“No. Plus you always give me free beer.”

Ron shrugs. “I’m going alone then. He’ll be out of town this weekend, and it’s the perfect opportunity to just check in.”

Harry groans. “You’re going to force my hand aren’t you?”

“Just come with me and make sure I don’t do anything unreasonable?”

“Going in the first place is unreasonable.”

“Still gonna do it.”

Ron knows that Harry can’t resist a little bit of mischief, so all he has to do is wait him out. Ninety percent of the unreasonable things Ron has done in his life have involved his best friend.

Like clockwork, Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay. When are you going?”

“Tomorrow morning, after Krum leaves town.”

Harry groans. “You know this is a terrible idea?”

“Yes. But I don’t care.”

“We’re not going to do anything illegal, right?”

Ron imagines what exactly they’ll do tomorrow — show up at Krum’s apartment and just open the door? If Vicky’s dumb enough to leave his door unlocked while he’s out of town, then sure. But he’s definitely not dumb. If he was, Hermione would be staying far far away from him, and yet, here they are. It won’t be the first time Ron has snuck into a window. He was a horny teenager with a girlfriend and strict parents before, and crowbars are quite effective.

“No, of course we won’t do anything illegal.”

Harry nods. “Then fine,” he says, the reluctance in his voice rather light.

“Knew I could count on you.”

It doesn’t take long for Ron and Harry to locate Viktor’s address — the internet is a wonderful invention. They pull up to his street and emerge from the car. On Ron’s back is a bag equipped with a crowbar, a rope, and a clipboard. Ron’s found that holding a clipboard is the best way to look like you’re supposed to be there.

“None of this makes sense, mate.”

“Sure it does.”

As Ron shuffles along the pavement of an unfamiliar neighborhood, Harry trots behind him in an effort to keep up.

“You have no evidence that he’s cheating.”

“That’s why we’re doing this. To find some.”

“Ugh.”

Harry and Ron eventually stumble to the front porch of Viktor Krum’s duplex. It is larger than expected, but slightly run-down. The grass in the front lawn needs to be mowed, and on the front porch sit two pots that once housed plants, maybe. By the looks of it, no one has watered them in years. The paint is peeling off of the siding, and one of the stairs on the front stoop has rotted through. Even though their loft is still rather dumpy, Viktor’s makes it look like a castle.

“No wonder he’s always staying at our apartment.”

Ron peers around to the side of the house. A cracked window reveals an unmade bed inside. From his research, Ron knows that Krum lives in the first apartment on the left.

“We’re going in through the window.”

“Breaking and entering, cool,” grumbles Harry.

“Just entering. No need to break.”

Harry and Ron tiptoe across the overgrown grass and when they reach the window, it takes both of them to wedge it up high enough for them to fit through. Harry props Ron up and he slithers head-first into Viktor Krum’s bedroom. Harry follows, and both boys land in a thud on the carpet of the darkened room.

“You’d think he’d be able to afford a nicer place,” says Ron.

“Maybe he’s saving for an engagement ring or something,” sniggers Harry.

“Fuck mate, why would you say that?”

“To watch you squirm.”

Harry and Ron get to searching Krum’s apartment, flipping over couch cushions and rummaging through bookshelves looking for something — anything — that might belong to a girl who isn’t Hermione. Jewelry, clothing, makeup, perfume. One sniff and Ron would surely be able to tell if the perfume is hers.

“What’s this?” Harry’s voice travels from a smaller room attached to the living area. Ron peers inside to find a cluttered desk next to a bookshelf. Lining the shelf is a collection of Agatha Christie and Stephen King novels, and writing utensils galore. Harry is standing at the desk with a thick binder in his hands. “I think it’s a story.”

“Let me read it.” Ron yanks the binder from Harry’s hands and turns to a random page.

“She was dead. So very dead. The way her bushy brown hair splayed across the ground and nearly blended in with the fallen leaves made her look so natural in that state, like she was finally at peace. But her eyes were open, revealing the look of shock in her face. But there was something else there. Recognition. Betrayal.

Her hand still clutched the stab wound in her stomach, and Special Agent Reid knew that her stomach lining wasn’t the only thing that had recently been broken. So had her heart.

Clearly, she knew her killer. And most likely, if statistics proved to be true — and Spencer Reid always trusted statistics — it was her lover.”

“What the fuck is this?” splutters Ron.

Harry laughs. “I don’t know, but I’d be embarrassed if someone found that at my desk. I think he’s just writing. Special Agent Reid is a character on Criminal Minds.”

“Yeah, and the dead girl with bushy brown hair is clearly Hermione.”

“It appears to be fanfiction.”

Who the fuck writes fanfiction? “Oddly specific fanfiction.”

“I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about,” shrugs Harry. “It’s probably just a creative outlet.”

“She was killed by her lover, Harry.”

“We should probably go,” says Harry. “I’m nervous someone saw us sneaking in here, and we can’t find what we’re looking for.”

Can’t find what we’re looking for? What the fuck is he talking about? “Harry, we’ve found something much worse than what we’re looking for.”

“Fanfiction?”

“No, evidence that he thinks about killing Hermione.”

“He doesn’t think about that, Ron. He’s just writing.”

“Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”

“Honestly?” Harry shrugs. “Because he’s not a bad guy. He treats Hermione well. He’s kind. And we just discovered an embarrassing secret of his and should probably keep it to ourselves.”

“Don’t you think we should tell her and let her decide if it’s concerning?”

“Hermione’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”

Ron sighs. He pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the open page of Krum’s story. “Well I’m going to tell her.”

“How are you going to explain why we were in his apartment?”

“Dunno.”

“Want my opinion, Ron?”

No. Not really. Ron decides not to answer, but Harry continues anyway.

“Leave her alone. It really feels like you want him to be cheating on her. Or to, I dunno, be plotting to murder her.” He gestures to the binder when he emphasizes the word. “See how ridiculous it sounds when I say it?”

Ron has to admit that Harry has a point.

“I know you care about her, so stop sabotaging your friendship by meddling in her relationship.”

Ron grunts. “When did you become so good at relationships?”

Harry gets a strange look in his eye. “Well, if you must know—”

“No, I don’t need to know,” grumbles Ron, as the memory of Harry and Ginny holding hands flashes across his mind.

“Fair enough,” says Harry with a smile. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught?”

“Yeah,” agrees Ron . Probably a good idea.

Hours later, Ron is cleaning glasses at the Burrow while Harry sits across from him at the bar, picking at a pile of french fries in front of him. “I still can’t believe we snuck into his house.”

“I can,” says Ron with a shrug. Honestly, it felt a lot like storming Cormac for Hermione’s belongings when she first moved in. Some people make Ron want to throw logic out the window.

“You’re an awful influence, Ron.”

No, Hermione’s the awful influence. Ron turns to stack newly washed glasses on the shelf at the back of the bar. He is definitely being unreasonable. Hermione, in no way shape or form, caused him to break into Krum’s apartment. It was his concern for her that did. Because he cares. Plus, even if Harry doesn’t agree, if you ask Ron, they found what they were looking for.

“Hello, roommates.” Hermione’s voice echoes from the front door. It’s only three o’clock, and the bar doesn’t pick up until later, and the lack of people in the room makes Hermione’s presence seem all that much stronger.

“Oh, hi Hermione,” says Ron.

“Hey, Hermione. Good to see ya,” says Harry. “Also, I’m going to be late to meet Gin, so see you back at the loft later—”

“I didn’t know you were hanging out with Ginny today.”

Harry pushes his half-eaten french fries out of the way and rises to his feet. “Bye!”

Hermione takes his empty chair, and both of them watch Harry scuffle out the front door with an extra pep in his step.

“That was weird,” says Hermione with a shrug.

“Yeah.”

She pulls Harry’s plate of french fries closer to her, and plucks at one. “So what did you two do today?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Really? I just didn’t see either of you at the loft.”

Ron avoids her eye contact and shrugs. “Guy stuff.”

“Right,” she says, while she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “So are you working till close?”

“Yep.” Ron feels a pang of guilt at how terse his answers are. Ever since the cabin, he’s been quite short with her. He tells himself he’s just giving her space, but deep down, he knows it goes beyond that.

Hermione persists. “Mind if I hang out here for a while? Obviously Ginny’s busy with Harry and Viktor’s gone for the weekend.”

“Sure,” he says. Then, willing himself to keep the conversation flowing, he adds “You still don’t know where Viktor is this weekend?”

Hermione hesitates before answering. “Just on a trip.”

So she does know where he is? Or maybe she doesn’t and it worries her.

Overwhelmed with a desire to come clean, Ron turns back to her. “Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t get mad at me?”

Hermione seems to brighten at the fact that his answer is longer than one word. “No, I can’t promise that, Ron. But please tell me.”

Ron groans. He shouldn’t say anything. But he does. “He gives me a weird vibe. Something’s off.”

“Of course he does,” says Hermione, rolling her eyes.

“What does that mean?” asks Ron, his defenses rising.

“Seriously, Ron?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “Tell me, Ron, see that guy in the booth?”

Ron follows her gesture to one of the only other patrons currently in the bar — a middle aged man reading a book and sipping an IPA. “Yes.” “Does he give you a weird vibe?”

“No, not really.”

“If I were to walk over to him and snog him, would he then give you a weird vibe?”

What kind of question is that? “Yes, but because he’s willing to snog a stranger in a bar—”

“You’re not willing to snog strangers at bars?” Ron’s mind darts back to Lavender. Sure, he was willing to snog strangers at bars, but they all know how that turned out.

“Okay, what are you saying?”

“I know we’re dancing around it Ron. It’s the elephant in the room.”

The hair on Ron’s arm tingles as it stands on edge. The last thing he expects is for Hermione to actually name the elephant in the room. Does this mean she’s about to shut him down once and for all? Tell him she’s happy with Krum? And that he should fuck off? Well, Fuck.

“Okay, but—”

“I love being your friend and your roommate, I’m in a stable relationship, and not willing to change that right now.”

Shit.

Hermione continues. “Will Viktor and I marry each other? Probably not. But at this point in my life, this is what I need.”

So, Hermione thinks Ron is pining uncontrollably for her? Is that how it is? “I didn’t break up with Lavender because of you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Does she know, though?

“And that is not why Krum gives me a vibe.”

She laughs. “Okay, why then?”

Ron groans. He really shouldn’t show her. Even if she thinks he found it at the loft, she’d probably just get angry at him for going through his things. But, for some reason, he can’t resist. “I found this today.”

Ron pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks through his photos. When the photo of Krum’s little story surfaces, he slides his phone to her across the bar.

Hermione picks it up and her eyebrows narrow to the text. “Where did you find this, Ron?”

What can he say? On his desk. In his apartment. The one I broke into earlier. “He left it out,” says Ron. It’s technically not a lie.

“That’s an invasion of his privacy,” says Hermione, coldly.

“Does it not concern you?”

Hermione shrugs. “Honestly, no, it doesn’t. He’s already shown me.”

“What?”

Hermione contemplates before giving up more details. “He’s taking a creative writing class, and this was one of his assignments,” she says, gesturing to Ron’s phone. “To write a fanfiction story from his favorite show. And he loves Criminal Minds.”

“Are you serious?” Harry was fucking right.

“Yes, it’s what he does every Tuesday and Thursday night. And that’s where he is now, actually, at a writing retreat.”

“So he’s like… serious about writing?”

Hermione shrugs.

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re the dead girl in that story?”

“Not really, no.”

“And that you were killed by your lover?”

Hermione laughs but shakes her head.

“It’s not very good.” He’s definitely grasping at straws now.

“I know that,” says Hermione. Ron’s pleasantly surprised that she agrees with him.

“Why does he do it?”

“He enjoys it. Isn’t that enough?” Finishing off Harry’s old fries, Hermione wipes her hand on a napkin. “Can I have a cream ale?”

“Sure,” says Ron as he reaches for a pint glass. “So you’re confident that he doesn’t want to kill you?”

Hermione laughs. “No, he doesn’t, thank god.”

“He’s not going to break your stomach lining and then your heart?”

“Okay,” groans Hermione. “Don’t be mean.”

Ron hands her the dripping cream ale. She smiles and takes it from him, her cheeks tinging pink with what Ron presumes is secondhand embarrassment. Honestly, it’s quite nice that she supports him, even though his hobby is a bit weird. It’s what Ron would call a green flag. Krum is a lucky bastard.

“My heart isn’t breakable right now, anyway,” she adds, before taking a sip of the foam layer at the top of her beer.

Ron cocks an eyebrow.

“Still have too many walls up, you know.”

“Oh I know, you’re a total ice queen.”

Hermione laughs, and Ron feels himself relax. It was a tough few days of not speaking freely with her.

“Thank you for talking to me. I missed having you as my friend,” she says.

The way she emphasizes friend sits strangely with Ron. As though she’s dictating the specific role she wants him to play right now. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite like being friendzoned, and he can’t figure out why. There’s something temporary about the way she says friend.

Or is he reading way too much into that? He doesn’t want to be her friend. And yet, he loves being her friend. How does that even make sense?

“Right,” says Ron, cautiously. “So if I wanted to write bad fanfiction, would you support me? As a friend?”

“Of course!” says Hermione cheerfully. “I’d beta read for you.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll take up the habit. Show you I have other talents besides giving you free beer and being your attractive roommate.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, yet a smile graces her lips. “I bet you’d be a good writer,” she says as she gulps down the last of her beer.

“Maybe you’ll find out. Want another beer?”

“Sure!”

Ron pulls her glass away and refills it under the tap. This is definitely the weirdest friendship he has. But he’ll play along.

For now.

It is far too late when Ron finally makes it home from the bar, and as much as he wants to sleep, he’s too wired from his conversation before. He strips down to his boxers and collapses into the bed. Although he would love to continue talking with Hermione, there are no signs of life in any of the bedrooms, so it’s a safe bet that everyone in the loft is asleep.

Ron turns to his side and reaches his phone on his bedside table. Without a second thought, he starts typing away. Hopefully Hermione has her text notifications on silent. There is no reason she can’t have two story tellers in her life.

“She was about 5’6, had brown eyes, and wore a Hamilton t-shirt. She loved to watch romantic comedies and was a total coffee snob, even though she couldn’t tell the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. Her sultry gaze and bushy brown hair splayed wildly out at all angles, making her appear like a sexy medusa. In fact she could turn you rock hard in an instant. She had her whole life ahead of her. Or so she thought…”

Before he can overthink it, Ron presses send.

His heart rate quickens as he stares at his message. She’s asleep, so there is no way she’ll see it until tomorrow morning—

Then, three little dots appear at the bottom of his screen, and his palms begin to sweat. Oh shit.

“Oh my god, Ron, what is this?”

Well, he’s committed now.

“Little did she know, her life as she knew it was about to end. In walked a man, about 6’5, bright red hair, and a pale, yet chiseled adonis-like body. Nothing like her current boyfriend, but everything she wished her current boyfriend could be. He didn’t waste time writing fanfiction and playing sports, and instead crafted beautiful cocktails from the basement dive bar, was quite broke, and regularly forgot to do his laundry. Like a REAL MAN.”

Hermione is quicker to respond this time. “You’re ridiculous. But keep going please.”

Yes, ma’am. “And he wasn’t just a sex god. He was also a… dun dun dun… MURDERER.”

“LMAO. This is so mean. But I’m laughing so hard.”

Ron continues typing away. “She knew all of this. And yet, she still wanted him. She didn’t care if it was her last night on earth, because she knew it would be her best night on earth. And that was all she needed.”

“OMG now you’re getting carried away.”

She’s not wrong, yet something urges him to keep going. “She entered his apartment, so he could enter HER.”

Yeah, maybe he is getting carried away, but it’s fun, so what’s the harm? Plus, she promised to support his creative writing journey.

While waiting for Hermione’s response, Ron’s bedroom door bursts open, and Hermione stomps across the room. Her face is flushed and Ron can tell she is trying to hide a smile. “Phone, please?” she asks, her arm extended.

“No, I’m writing a story!”

Hermione stands her ground. “You’ve lost your phone privileges.”

“But I’m going to be the next Stephen King.”

Hermione lets out a laugh and dives onto the bed, wrestling his hand for his phone. She braces her knees on either side of him, pinning him between her legs. Ron makes a show of struggling, but as much as he wants to keep her there forever, he eventually lets her win.

“Fine,” he says, handing over his phone.

It only takes a moment for them to pause, limbs entangled, for Ron’s mind to run wild. How easy would it be for him to turn the moment serious? He could wrap an arm around her waist and pin her to him. He doubts she’d resist. She has a boyfriend, but she also seems surprisingly comfortable with her arms draped around Ron’s body. She knows he’s only wearing boxers under the covers, right?

They linger there for a moment that solidifies Ron’s inkling from before. She bites her lip, her eyes dart down toward the covers. The way she doesn’t immediately jump off of the bed when she notices that he’s in his underwear suggests that the friendzone is an arbitrary construct.

Ron steadies his voice in an effort to hide his rising heart beat. “Careful, Hermione. I’m a sex god with a habit for murder.”

Yeah, took one second for him to fuck that up.

“I fucking hate you,” she says, as she wrangles herself back up, his phone in her hand. “You are most definitely not a killer.”

Yeah, it took one second for him to fuck that up. However, Ron’s stomach flutters at the sound of her swearing. She hardly ever cusses, only when she’s with him. “Right, but am I a sex god?”

Hermione laughs. “I wouldn’t know, would I?”

Ron raises an eyebrow. “Care to find out?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have had that whiskey shot at the end of his shift. He’s acting a bit too bold.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Her answer echoes in Ron’s mind. He doesn’t miss the way Hermione averts her gaze, and her cheeks flush red.

“I know. We’ve established that.” Then, with a inhale to gain courage, he adds, “But if you didn’t?”

Maybe Ron imagines it, but a look flashes across her eyes, and the corners of her lips turn up in a smile. She shakes her head as if to halt the beginning of a fantasy before it runs wild. “I really should sleep. Goodnight, Ron.”

“Night, Hermione.”

Ron grins as she turns and leaves the room, fully aware that she never answered his question.

#be11a loft #romione #ron and hermione #ron x hermione #hermione granger #hpromione #ron weasley #angst #ronweasley #romione fanfic #hp fanfic #muggle au #slow build #slow burn

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ayearofgoodfate · 1 year

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i’m staying awake making sure my roommate doesn’t start showing od symptoms. we tend to take things too far. i have my hell day later and it’s all i can do not to fall asleep but i miss my parents house even though they didn’t always know how to be parents and i miss my little brother and sister and my dog and my bookshelf and the wall i would tape up magazine articles and photos to whenever i got sad. and i think that college fucks you up a little bit. there is so much love here. there’s also so much trauma.

when i was about nine my dad decided that he and i were going to read every single book in the middle grade section of the library. my dad had a lot of passion and not a lot of ways to harness it so every saturday he would drive me to the library and he had this old grey car that he could never tame enough to follow the speed limit. and we’d just spend hours there. my dad never talked to me a lot, we never had conversations that weren’t in a group setting. he never told me things or asked me questions but i was a talker so he learned what would work to work around that. he read to me. he’d always read to me. we’d knock out a book or two in the library, literally just sitting there for four hours straight on the old blue carpet while he’d make up voices for the characters, then we’d take about twelve more books home for the week. I’d read most of them on my own, but we’d go through one or two together throughout the week before bed. when we left the library he’d always buy girl scout cookies in quarters from whoever was outside the library selling. we’d eat the whole box. dad never made it feel like we had less than. he never ever told me that we were as poor as we were. he has done a lot of things but i will love him for that forever. i will always defend my dad.

we stopped reading together after a while. he got tired or i got old and he’d joined the church and my siblings weren’t babies and suddenly there were littler kids that needed reading time too. we didn’t finish the entire middle grade section of the library. i don’t think we even made it halfway. i don’t think dad has gone to the library since. the last book we read, we didn’t finish, and i was a bitch about it. it was this big collection of science fiction short stories and the girls in my class had been telling me that stuff was for boys and i simply wasn’t having it. dad wouldn’t have that. every book is every book, so we trudged.

i got really sick that fall. i slept for days straight. my parents couldn’t afford doctors and probably wouldn’t have taken me anyway but dad was really good at taking care of sick people. he’d sit there and watch me breathe and make me mac and cheese and read to me and i’d be half asleep. this one story was about solipsism. i was delirious, drifting in and out of his voice, letting the idea of me being the only real person in the world marinate in my mind. i woke up three days later like i’d never been sick. i needed to read that story again because i needed to know it existed because, mainly, i needed to know that dad did and mom did and baby sister and brother and my friends and the book was gone.

i looked for it for years in different libraries. big. silver. i resigned myself to the fact that it was a fever dream and then like magic it popped up on the library shelves again. i took it out and renewed it for months on end and drew in it with the invisible ink pen I stole from office depot’s back to school sale. i marked it with my name and annotated it with notes on how dad read it when i was little and it was mine until it was overdue. years later i bought a used copy i found at a yard sale. annotated. i play around in my mind with the idea of trading the books out, as if i still live in a place where i could. the point is, it’s real. we’re real. dad was real, our library trips that had been half forgotten were real, and isn’t it nice to feel real and to know everything else is too?

I miss dad. my roommate’s breathing heavy and in a few hours she will wake up sick. between my classes i’ll raid my drawers and wallet for enough coins to run to cvs and buy her some mac and cheese because that’s what we both crave when we’re not doing too good. i will never tell her i paid for it in coins and i’ll never tell her i stayed up to make sure she’d be okay. we’re a lot alike and so i’m not even mad at her for what she did tonight. she just wanted to know she was real. she is my best friend and she has a lot of passion. i take to people like that, latch onto them like a leech because i was taught to feel deeply and anyone who doesn’t i seem to repel. i will go to class and not fall asleep, and i’ll wear cute clothes and there will be circles under my eyes and no part of me will match but that’s how i am and i can’t ever in good faith tell anyone why. i play around with calling dad a lot. I look at his contact but i can’t bring myself to hear the silence. i think that’s why i went to book school in the first place. i think it’s why i’m writing this.

#it’s 4:18 in the morning #and i might be delirious #but this #is my favorite #thing #i have #ever #posted #so slay #riley never shuts up

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hullomoon · 1 year

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hullomoon’s 2022 works: part eight

it’s the end of the year, which means it’s time for a work round-up! this year i really tipped into being podfic heavy (and more multifandom!). if you haven’t yet, check out my 2019 roundup, 2020 roundup, and 2021 roundup! all works are ordered in chronological posting order.

[podfic] amongst the rubble and stone | Stranger Things | Ronance | 46:59

When Alice finally gets the letter that tells her she’s been accepted into Emerson, they slowly send her all of the admissions information required as well as the information about her accommodation and her new roommate for freshman year. Someone called ‘Nancy Wheeler’ sounds both pretty harmless and like someone who would be, at the very least, easy to live with if not be friends with. So, going in, Alice isn’t expecting a ‘friends forever’ pact and camp-style braided bracelets, but she also isn’t expecting the girl that Nancy Wheeler ends up being.

[podfic] i got new rules (i count ‘em) | A League of Their Own | Greta-centric | 09:48

They become her unspoken rules, her sanctuary and her prison protected by armor of eyeliner and red lipstick:

One: Always be seen in the company of a man when you’re in public.

Two: Don’t get too close.

Three: Don’t fall in love.

[podfic] The Big Chill | Schitt’s Creek | David/Patrick | 1:40:34

David Rose learns to thaw while being chilled.

❄️ A modern-day Ice Age AU. ❄️

[Podfic] just a little bit of magic | Schitt’s Creek | Alexis/Twyla | 15:28

Twyla Sands has always known the day that she would meet her true love.

[podfic] exeunt ; enter stage | Stranger Things | Steve-centric | mature | 59:23

Nancy inhaled slowly as she took a meaningful step towards him. Steve's eyes flickered back over to her instinctively, and he got a firsthand view of how her face had crumpled, eyes wide and shining and worried. "Steve," Nancy said, slow, gentle, quiet, like she was trying to calm a cornered wild animal. "None of us said those things."

Steve's mouth opened, words piling on the tip of his tongue: what, so I was just hallucinating, then? he wanted to ask, nearly did ask, and then he realized—heart stopping in his chest and the floor very suddenly feeling like it had been ripped out beneath him—that was exactly what was happening.

Steve's jaw shut with a click.

"Oh," Steve breathed shakily. Oh, fuck.

Vecna curses Steve. As you could imagine, it isn't a very good time.

[podfic] and yet i love her | A League of Their Own | Max/Esther | mature | 15:27

“You need to get up now or I’ll be keeping you in bed all day,” Es says with a lascivious grin. It’s an empty threat, and they both know it - it’s not like they could ever risk being caught in here together, but it’s enough to make Max laugh and swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Save that for after we win the game,” she tells her, and begins to dress before they can distract each other.

('I love you', Esther said. No woman has ever told Max they love her before.)

----

Esther says 'I love you'; Max wonders if she's ready to say it back.

[podfic] i wanna make a supersonic man (out of you) | Stranger Things | Lucas & Steve | 22:01

Lucas is the man of the group, he knows this. He's got to be the man, like Steve, and wear polos and khakis and come between evil and the weak and be a lady killer and a charming, funny, sweet guy. Like Steve who has started hanging out with Eddie Munson and getting piercings and wearing eyeliner and not being the man Lucas thought he was.

“Steve is that an earring?” says Dustin, at one of his highest pitches, slap bang in the middle of one of Eddie’s tirades.

Everyone pauses. Number one, you never interrupt Eddie, especially not during D&D. Number two, what? (Lucas has strong suspicions he can’t let Max ever find out about this, or she’s going to break-up with him and become a full-time Steve admirer.)

They all lean forwards.

Steve shifts slightly uncomfortably, but he looks amused. “Yeah.” He shrugs. And there it is, a single tiny silver hoop in his left ear. Lucas stares, amazed.

“You’re a guy,” says Lucas, without thinking about it.

Steve only laughs. “I am aware, Lucas, thank you.”

[podfic] Exactly Like You | Check Please! | Bitty/Kent | 09:12

in which, Kent V Parson is an ENORMOUS sap. But quietly, inside his head, because he knows being all possessive and shit is not Healthy Relationship Goals and he is trying for that. Eric is worth trying for.

[podfic] Things We Do For Love | Stranger Things | Dustin & Steve, Steddie | 04:57

When Steve starts to feel a little left out of the 'nerd culture' talk and references, Dustin helps him catch up on the most important bits.

[podfic] Bells All Ring, Horns All Blow | Schitt’s Creek | David/Patrick | 01:24:43

“Um, I can’t—I’m not going home." Patrick says. "Not, ah, not this time. There’s a lot of ice in the forecast.” It feels just like the excuse it is when he says it out loud, and he remembers his mom’s disappointed oh over the phone earlier when he told her the same thing.

To his relief, David nods. Stevie looks at him funny, but she’s usually doing that so he doesn’t take it too personally. “That’s probably good,” David says.

“Just because you don’t want to move the overflow shelving on the twenty-sixth,” Patrick says, but David holds up a hand.

“It’ll be fun to have you around,” David says. It’s more honest than he usually is, which he realizes a few seconds after Patrick does, lips twisting up in self-deprecation.

Patrick nods hesitantly as a plan takes shape in his head. He thought for David’s birthday that maybe...but he can try again. He can do it right this time.

Or, Patrick and David find a different way to each other.

my 201st Schitt's Creek Work

#hullomoon podfics #ronance #alexis rose x twyla sands #greta gill #david rose x patrick brewer #steve harrington #stranger things #a league of their own #schitts creek #max x esther #lucas sinclair #bitty/kent #dustin henderson #steddie #long post

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taschamonnii · 5 months

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After You’ve Gone

You x Evelyn Porter (Amazing Stories ‘The Cellar’ - Victoria Pedretti)

Fix it with a happy and more Gay ending! Victoria Pedretti the cellar amazing stories continue in the future let her be gay!

Summary: We pick up in the future with Evelyn

TW: Smut

Here is the title song: After You’ve Gone By Victoria Pedretti

I Linked some clips including the song from The Cellar

Also, there are a lot of good edits so here is a playlist of edits for Sam & Evelyn

In case you have never heard Victoria Pedretti sing here let me bless you with the other song we have from her College years: Crazy Mashup

AN: I randomly remembered this character and thought let's write her up a cute gay ending!

She is the cutest ray of sunshine! I can't handle her smile!

Word Count: 2,356

Imagine This:

Evelyn Porter of 1919 was a beautiful woman who just wanted to be free. She wanted more than anything to sing and enjoy the parts of life that a woman of her time was not allotted.

Sam Taylor of 2019 was a beautiful man with a kind heart but a struggling mind. He felt he didn’t belong in the digital world. He liked working with his hands and making real connections.

One faithful day led to Sam traveling back in time and that is where he fell madly in love with Evelyn. Their love affair was short-lived although happy in totality it was also so very tragic.

>>>>

You

You knew the man that your son was named after. You knew that because of him you had Evelyn. You knew because of his brother you had the gorgeous old house fully restored and beautiful. The events of the years 1919 & 2019 that led to Sam traveling back in time and sending Evelyn to the future were a part of the bedtime stories you told your little Sam.

You met Evelyn shortly after she came to be in 2019. You knew Sam and his brother Jake through Jakes's husband who was your best friend. So when Evelyn came to the future with nothing and no one you quickly became friends. You wouldn’t believe their story if you didn’t see the letters Sam wrote from the past and hid in the wall for yourself. The letter he wrote to her and the way she described him was heartbreaking. You vowed to try your best to help Evelyn in any way you could. You helped her learn anything and everything. She stayed with you while the house was being remodeled and you became inseparable. And you were roommates.

Roommates turned into something more complicated after only a short time. Feelings developed. You thought she was pretty the moment you met her but her soul and energy just made you fall madly in love with her more each day. Her smile is better than sunshine. Her blue eyes lit up when she smiled and gawd you could get lost in them forever. Unfortunately, you thought there was no chance. She has adapted well to the future but sexuality is a big one. She was going to be married off without a choice in the matter before Sam rescued her. You didn’t want to ever impose on her freedom. So you kept your feelings to yourself. You even helped her make other friends and date. You were shocked but not really surprised when she learned you dated other women exclusively. She was amazed by the concept not put off like you thought she’d be. She really wasn’t made for 1919 she had always belonged here in the future.

She decided on her own to go out with some girls and guys and got to experience going to clubs, doing karaoke, and enjoying all that this world had to offer. Dancing and kissing strangers was something you had enjoyed before her and she seemed to like it, except she was searching for more. Something like what she had with Sam. You both just had fun together for a while.

Everything changed the day the house remodel was completed. She was set to move out of your place and move into the house alone. She didn’t want that and neither did you. You were lying on the floor exhausted from packing, moving, and unpacking.

“This place seems so much bigger.”

“Well, it technically is a little bit.”

“I guess.” She whispered.

You turned onto your side to face her “What’s wrong?”

She turned to face you with a sad smile “I just…”

Her voice trailed off as her gaze lowered to glance at your lips. You couldn’t help the automatic reaction to lick them under her intense stare. Her lips parted and she licked her bottom lip and sucked on it. Before you could ask her again what was wrong. Her lips crashed against yours.

You melted into her kiss, her lips slotted between yours perfectly. Her breath hitched and she hummed against your lips. It was more intense than you had imagined it could be. She pulled you closer by the back of your neck. She pulled until you were lying on top of her. Lips still in a dance tongues quickly joining. Her hands moved down your back. She moved her hands bunching up the t-shirt you were wearing. Her fingernails scratched lightly at your back under the shirt as she pulled your shirt trying to get it off of you. A shiver ran through you and made you pull away from her lips to sit up. Your gaze traveled from her panting expanding ribs to her kiss-swollen lips red from where you had been sucking on them, to her intense blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. No one else makes me feel like you do.”

You smiled softly “Evelyn. I. Gawd I’m so in love with you.”

Her smile widened and she sat up “I’m in love with you too, y/n.”

She didn’t let you say anything else she captured your lips yet again and her hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt quickly pulling it off. You took your time unbuttoning her shirt. You trailed your kisses down her neck and followed each button. Kissing down the center of her body. Her nails dug into your shoulders sending an electric thrill up your spine. You moved back up as you pulled the shirt off of her kissing each of her shoulders. You quickly moved to the straps of her bra and pulled them down. You lean in, press your lips to her chest and slide your hands around to unhook it. Her breasts are so perky and her nipples are so hard. You glance up and watch her as you cup her breasts and run your thumb over her nipples. Her neck is exposed to you as she throws her head back with a moan. “Ah!”

The sound sends a shiver up your spine and you can’t help but want more. You kiss her breasts and lightly suck on a nipple as you pinch the other one. Your gaze is glued to the tension in her neck as she moans. You suck harder and lightly bite her hard nipple “AAAAAHHHH!”

She looks down at you pupils wide only leaving thin rings of blue. Her lips are parted as she breathes out hot and heavy. You switch breasts but suck and bite hard instantly this time. She arches into you. Your free hand grabs her hip to keep her steady and close.

“More, please.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I need you everywhere.”

You pulled away from her quickly removing your own bra. You moved your hands to your pants and got up to quickly remove the rest of your clothes. You don't waste a second kneeling back down, helping her escape the rest of her clothes.

Eventually she is laid bare in front of you on top of the pile of clothes and you soak in every detail that you can. You map scars and freckles and curves. Her hips call to you begging for your kiss and you can't resist. You kneel between her legs and lean down pressing kisses to the dips in her hips. Under the soft subtle curve of her belly. Down soft curls. Off to the right side of her inner thigh and then over to the left.

Her hips rock and seek friction. Her legs tremble around your head as you press your lips where she needs them most. Your lips wrap around her sensitive clit and suck lightly as you hum in appreciation to the feel and taste of her. She moans and tangles her long fingers in your hair. She tugs as your tongue flattens against her. Your gaze travels up her body and you catch her gaze intense and focused on you. You reach a hand up and cup a breast squeezing. One of her hands fly to cover yours, lacing her fingers with yours as you both squeeze her breast. You moved your other hand under you. You feel her suck your finger in as you lightly press it to her center and it makes you moan to know she's so ready for you. Your own walls flutter and you can feel how wet you are on your thighs.

“Fuck Evelyn! You feel so good. You taste so good. You have me dripping down my thighs.”

“Fuck y/n! Ah! More.”

You easily slip another finger into her and the sound of her slick heat has you floating. You curl your fingers in a rhythm that you match with the squeeze of her breast and suction of her clit.

Her muscles tighten. Her body squirms and hips rock. The fingers that are tangled in your hair tug and the hand on top of your own squeezes harder. “There! Oh there! Please don't sto-AH! Fuck! Yes yes yes!”

You feel her walls tighten and contract and taste her sweet release moaning into her as your body trembles against hers. “Good so good.”

“Fuh oh ah sensitive!”

You pull out slowly and flatten your tongue as you try to gently get as much of your prize as possible. She tastes so good you have to resist diving your tongue deep into her.

She pulls you down and kisses you devouring your lips in a sloppy kiss. Her fingers trail between you and she slips two fingers into you with ease. You are already on the edge just from making her cum. You moan against her shoulder and she lightly bites yours. She curls her fingers and presses her palm against your clit; you drip into her hand and buck your hips. You feel the coil in your core as she bites and sucks on your shoulder and moves her fingers faster.

“You like that?”

“Yes oh gawd yes!”

“Are you going to cum for me? Say my name when you cum.”

“Ah fuck Evelyn oh my YES! Evelyn!”

“Yes yes oh fuck cum for me.”

Your body trembles and compulses and your walls tighten so hard around her fingers that she can't move. She presses her fingers to the sensitive spot inside you in a come hither motions and it has you soaking her hand. You ride out your orgasm until you collapse against her. She slowly removes her fingers and holds you tightly to her.

“That was-”

“Everything.”

“Yeah,x you take a steadying breath “Everything. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

>>>>

Time passed as it inevitably does. Your love for each other bloomed and blossomed into more than either of you could have ever imagined. You moved into the house with her the day after you made love for the first time.

You helped her get a YouTube channel started for her singing and she was discovered instantly. She is a world famous singer. Known for her sultry vocals and expressive lyrics. She proposed to you and you had a small but absolutely stunning wedding. Soon after you decided to adopt a child and gawd you never imagined your life would lead you here. Watching from the rocking chair as Evelyn, your wife sang sweetly to your 5 year old son.

She smiles scrunching her nose as she leans down to kiss his cheek. She whispers so softly and sweetly. “Goodnight Sam, happy birthday.”

He yawns adorably and you both softly laugh as he snuggles into his pillow and rubs his little face. She continues singing softly.

You put the book you were reading away and that's when you all hear it. The clatter of a wooden toy car falling down the stairs. You and Evelyn glance at each other and little Sam wiggles. “Mommy someone there?”

She glanced at the doorway and then back down at him “No baby. It's okay.”

You got up and walked to the stairs running down the steps. “Sam? Thank you for saving her.”

You don't know if he heard you but you hope he did. You glance back up the stairs and see Evelyn looking down tears stream down her delicate face.

“Oh baby.”

You rush up the steps and wrap her in your arms holding her as she cries. “Sorry.”

“No. It's okay. Come on, let's go to bed.”

“We have to clean up the party stuff.”

“It can wait, come on.”

You pull her into your bedroom and help her out of her dress and bra. You grab her favorite big t-shirt, one of your old college ones and gently pull it over her head. You change yourself and help her wash her face. You quickly do your own routine and get you both settled into bed.

You hold her tightly and ghost your lips over her cheeks. “It's okay to feel sad, to miss him.”

“I just, I knew this was coming, he said he told me, about it when he was convincing me to leave him behind. I just didn't expect it to make me feel like this. I love my life with you with our son but I just wish he knew. He saved me in multiple ways, he made me feel things I never had and he believed in me.”

“I know. If it's any comfort I miss him too, he was such a good friend to me. He was always so caring. I wish I could tell him how he also saved me. I was feeling a lot like he was. Lost, overwhelmed by the modern world and feeling lonely. I was starting to think that real connection just didn't happen anymore. Then you strolled in and saw the world full of wonder and excitement for all the possibilities your new found freedom offered. It, you, changed everything.”

“He really was something else. Something special.”

“He really was.”

She snuggles deeper into your neck and you run your fingers through her short brown hair. She sighs and her body relaxes against you. “I love you, y/n.”

“And I love you, Evelyn.”

A/N: I might write more little snapshots of their life. Let me know if you would like to see more.

#victoria pedretti #Amazing Stories The Cellar #Evelyn Porter #You x Evelyn Porter #After Youve gone #Victoria Pedretti singing!#OMFG her VOICE!#WLW #lesbian love story #lesbian #wlw

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singingintheshower48 · 1 year

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Drabble Challenge Day 5/30 (aka back from accidental hiatus)

Hiiiii to anyone out there still interested. I didn't intend to take that long of a break, but life happens, inspiration comes and goes, and sometimes social media breaks are necessary. Anyway, I'm excited to be back to writing and have a plan to keep it up longer this time and hopefully post some longer projects sometime soon!

TLDR; I'm back for now and hopefully for a while. Previous prompts can be read here.

Prompt: Arguing

Wangxian, Modern AU, genderswap, trans LWJ, 1025 words, G

“You’re going to get caught or run over if you keep leaning out of the booth like that,” Nie Huaisang commented, not looking up from where they were perusing the menu.

“But what if–”

“Stop being ridiculous and sit up,” Jiang Cheng snapped. “Lan Zhan’s not going to start making out with a girl in public on their first date.”

Wei Ying wrinkled her nose, an uncomfortable twist in her stomach at the thought of Lan Zhan kissing anyone, public or not.

“A-sang! Tell him I’m not being ridiculous.”

“You’re being a little ridiculous.”

Wei Ying slumped down on the vinyl bench, pouting while her brother and supposed best friend ignored her. She fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt, determinedly not thinking about Lan Zhan and kissing. That only ever led to thinking about Lan Zhan kissing her, which wasn’t the point of this venture at all. She was here for 100% selfless reasons.

“I just think,” she said, ignoring Jiang Cheng’s groan and Nie Huaisang rolling their eyes, “that someone should keep an eye on them. We don’t know this girl’s intentions, what if she ends up doing something to make Lan Zhan uncomfortable? It’s her first date since starting HRT, and there are a lot of weirdos out there, you know.”

“You’re her roommate,” Jiang Cheng barked. Nie Huaisang shushed him, darting a quick glance over their shoulder to make sure he hadn’t alerted Lan Zhan to their presence. Jiang Cheng glared at them, but leaned in and lowered his voice when he continued, “You could have just used location sharing and fake emergencies like everyone else who wants to get out of a bad date.”

“He has a point,” Nie Huaisang said. “And your argument would be a lot more convincing if you hadn’t gotten drunk and cried to us about how you’re in love with your perfect best friend two nights ago.”

“I knew telling you would be a bad idea,” she groaned.

“Because we might actually force you to do something about it instead of moping around about it?” Jiang Cheng challenged, raising an angry eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” Wei Ying insisted. “Lan Zhan doesn’t feel the same way about me.” Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang shot each other looks that Wei Ying couldn’t decipher. Instead of waiting for either of them to placate her, she slid out of the booth. “I’m going to the bathroom, order me the spicy pork noodles and something strong and alcoholic if the waiter comes by.”

When Wei Ying got to a stall, she locked the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath.

“Get it together and be a good friend,” she muttered to herself. It did little to untangle the knot in her stomach that had formed the instant Lan Zhan had walked into the restaurant with another girl on her arm. She knew she was being ridiculous. She didn’t have some claim to Lan Zhan just because they were best friends, or because she’d been the first person Lan Zhan had come out to, or because she’d been there when Lan Zhan had started hormones, or because they lived together, or because she’d been in love with her for virtually forever. She allowed herself two more deep breaths before slapping her cheeks with her hands. No more wallowing. She was going to go back to her booth, eat her spicy noods, and get shitfaced with her brother and best friend, even if it killed her a little inside. Maybe if she looked sad enough Nie Huaisang would switch spots with her so she wouldn’t be tempted to spy on Lan Zhan’s entire date.

Resolve set, she opened the stall door and marched out towards the sink, ready to shove her feelings back into the bullet proof safe she’d been keeping them in for years.

“Ooof,” she said, fumbling to a stop when she nearly ran into a person in front of her stall. “Sorry! I didn’t know anyone was–”

Her breath caught in her throat. It was Lan Zhan standing before her, tall and beautiful and clearly unsurprised to be running into her.

“Wei Ying.”

“L-Lan Zhan! Hi, I didn’t know you were here tonight too!”

Lan Zhan said nothing, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at her.

“Aiyah, Lan Zhan,” she sighed. “When did you see me?”

“When you leaned out of your booth right after we sat down,” Lan Zhan said, her gaze strong and unwavering and pinning Wei Ying in place. “Why did you follow me here?”

Wei Ying gulped. She’d always had trouble lying to Lan Zhan–hiding her endless love and devotion didn’t count as lying, technically, just avoiding the truth for the good of their friendship–and she couldn’t bring herself to do it now. She was pretty sure Lan Zhan knew exactly why she was there anyway.

“I, um… I was spying on your date.”

Lan Zhan’s mouth pressed into a hard line, undoubtedly displeased at having her suspicions confirmed.

“Why?”

“I’m sorry Zhan-jie,” she said, unable to keep the whine out of her voice entirely. “I just wanted to make sure Mo Whatserface isn’t, like a murderer or a stalker or an undercover bigot. Roommate responsibilities and all that. You’re my friend, I just–”

“I’m not a child,” Lan Zhan cut in. Wei Ying’s mouth snapped shut. Lan Zhan never interrupted anyone. Her beautiful face was twisted in anger, a flush on her ears and spreading down her neck. Her hands, clenched into fists at her side, were shaking. She hadn’t been this angry with Wei Ying since they were teenagers. “And I don’t need you to supervise me. My dates are my business.”

Anguish and regret curled in Wei Ying’s stomach, creeping up her throat, nearly suffocating in its strength.

“Zhan-jie,” she choked out, “I’m really–”

“Don’t,” Lan Zhan huffed. “Just leave me alone.”

Lan Zhan didn’t wait for a response. With one more huff she turned on her heel and stomped out of the bathroom, the clicking of her cute and sensible kitten heels the only sound left behind her.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs fic #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #my fics #drabble challenge

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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BLACK&WHITE (part 1)

A/N: alright alright, so... im back with another series, huh. i took the advice to make the parts shorter so they are easier to read, chapters will be around 4-5k words. im really hoping you guys will like the story, it came from such a sudden idea but im glad i decided to write it! wanted to have a posting schedule but honestly it stresses me out if im behind with the writing so i'll just go with the flow. feedback is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED plssss let me know what you think about the chapter!! i really want to hear your thoughts!

PAIRING: long hair college!Harry X Mitch's little sister!Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s been two entire weeks since school has started and you have made exactly one (1) friend. Your roommate. And you might not even consider Bonnie your friend, because basically you’re just forced to hang out since you live together, but Bonnie has her own little circle and she hasn’t invited you out to meet her friends. But it would be pathetic to admit that you failed to befriend anyone so far and it’s definitely not how you imagined your first year in college.

Scrolling through Instagram you see that all of your old classmates are having the time of their life, going to parties, hanging out with their new friends, having lunch and dinner together, it’s all picture perfect while your last post was about the day you moved in, a nice, aesthetic photo of your little candles set up on your nightstand, the capture telling about how excited you are about this new chapter. Well, it feels like you got stuck on the first page, alone.

Huffing with a grunt, you hop off your bed, pacing around, trying to figure out what to do so you don’t feel like a total loser. You could go for a run, but it rained in the morning so everything is saggy and wet… Or you could go get a coffee, read some at a cute little table and maybe someone might find you mysterious and interesting enough to walk up to you and want to be friends with you!

Okay, that only happens in movies, but it was nice to play with the thought at least. God, why is it so hard to make friends? Or is something wrong with you? Are you really this awkward? Thinking about it, you’ve known all your friends at home since kindergarten and back then it was enough to just ask someone if they wanted to be friends and boom, then you were friends! But that’s not how it works now and as the days carry on you see everyone finding their circle while you’re left out, slimming your chances to make friends. Because who would want to be friends with the girl who couldn’t get to know anyone for weeks after school started?

Reaching for your phone you look for the contact you really wanted to reserve to the worst case scenario. Calling your brother’s girlfriend to ask if she wants to hang out is not quite how you planned it, but she is your last chance to get out and socialize. Maybe she could introduce you to some people!

“Hey hun! What’s up?” Sarah’s cheerful, chirpy voice rings through the phone as you plop down to the bed, anxiously fidgeting with the fabric of your sweatpants.

“Hi, are you busy?”

“Not at all! Just heading back to my place to get some stuff and spend the night at your brother’s.”

“I was just wondering if, um… if you maybe wanted to hang out? I don’t know, you can totally say no, it’s just that—“

“Y/N, slow down,” she chuckles cutting your rambling off. “Why don’t you come over to Mitch’s too? They are having a few people over, we could catch up and all that, how does that sound?”

“You think he won’t mind?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” she giggles. “See you there around eight, alright?”

“Thanks Sarah!”

Your brother started dating Sarah freshman year and they’ve been together ever since, now they are seniors and already planning to move in together once they have graduated and they are the cutest ever. Sarah is so great, she made you feel like you’ve been friends forever when you first met her when Mitch brought her home for thanksgiving that first year. She is sweet, open, such a charming person, almost too good for your brother. She could have easily blew you off, why would she want to hang out with a freshman as a senior, but she invited you with them without a second thought. She is your savior.

Sarah said they would have a few people over. That’s what she said, right? Well, this surely doesn’t seem like a chill get together in the frat house where Mitch lives, the music is blasting, the house is packed, and there are red solo cups everywhere you look. You definitely did not expect a full blown frat party.

Walking in you push past a couple that’s quite busy inspecting each other’s throat, you reach for your phone to text Sarah where she is, but you spot her before you could do that, talking to someone in the kitchen with a cup in her hand, her lips painted red that go amazing with her red dress and denim jacket.

“Hey! You’re here!” she exclaims when she spots you approaching her and she pulls you into a hug right away.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me it was a whole ass frat party,” you chuckle looking around.

“Ehh, you know how it is, people find out about it and then there’s no stopping after that,” she shrugs, pulling you further into the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“Oh, yeah I’ll just—“

“Absolutely no alcohol!”

Your brother’s voice beams behind you and a moment later he appears, grabbing the apple juice from the counter to pour some into a cup for you. Great, now you feel like a toddler. At least he didn’t give you a Capri Sun.

Mitch is three years older than you, yet he has always acted like he is your supervisor, the one who needs to know everything about you, especially after your parents got a divorce when you were only ten and you only saw your dad every other weekend. Though he couldn’t be up in your business when he left for college, but he still demanded you had your location on at all times and he would call you randomly, asking where you’ve been and who you’ve been with.

“Oh, come on, babe. She can have at least a beer!” Sarah rolls her eyes at Mitch who shows the cup into your hand.

“Maybe when she is twenty-one,” he scoffs with a hard expression on his face.

“As if you waited until you were twenty-one,” she points out, making you laugh. You know he’s been sneaking around with his friends since he was sixteen, you also remember the first time he came home drunk, you helped him to hide from your mom until he sobered up. Your brother is no saint, but it’s best if he doesn’t know that this wouldn’t be your first time drinking.

“If I see you sneak around and drink, I swear—“

“You what, gonna call mom?” you scoff at your brother.

“Might, yeah!” he huffs, but you both know he won’t.

“Yo! Mitch! Come over here!” someone calls out for him from the living room and he nods their way.

“Stay with Sarah, okay? Don’t want you lingering around on your own,” he tells you before disappearing.

Part of you debate whether you should rebel and split from Sarah, but what would you do on your own? Walk around awkwardly, be a creep in the corner of the room? You’d rather not, so you stick to her like glue as she moves from one person to the other like the true social butterfly that she is.

It’s clear that Sarah is popular and it’s definitely not because she is dating someone from one of the coolest frats. No, your brother has nothing with how people are just drawn towards her, craves to be seen by her, to talk to her. You wonder what it’s like to be like her, to earn the attention without even asking for it…

Harry wasn’t a fan of having yet another party in their house, he would have been happier if it was really just a few people over, playing video games, having a few beers and then call it a night at a reasonable time. But of course, his mates had to go around campus and tell everyone that their door would be open tonight so now here he is, trying to find his will to socialize, but hiding in his room now sounds like perfect.

Sitting outside on the terrace, on the old couch he and the other boys in the house got for dimes, there’s a girl on each of his side, begging for his attention, topping each other with everything they say, not even realizing that he is not too interested in any of them. There was a time when Harry would definitely take up on the task to pick up both girls and bring them up to his room, when he was seeing a different girl every other weekend, but it gets old and tiring. It doesn’t interest him anymore to be the Casanova of the campus, he is done waking up to a different girl whose name he doesn’t even remember, he is done with using girls just as much as they use him. Because he is not stupid, he knows that sleeping with him is like a trophy for some girls, something they can brag about to their friends, make other girls jealous so he never felt like an asshole for using them for his own relief.

Maybe the change came after he started noticing how Mitch, his best mate has been with his girlfriend. How happy he is with Sarah, their little dates, the way they touch and look at each other. At first he thought it was ridiculous and sickening, acting like puppies in love, but the more time he spent with the two of them the more he found himself craving the same thing. Someone to talk to and not just falling into bed after two words, someone to do things with, someone who he could call when he was having a bad day and who’d take care of him. The more he thinks about it the more he wants it, but with who? Most girls don’t think of him as someone they would want to be in a relationship with and they wouldn’t give him the time of the day for more than just a night. Not that he has met anyone he could imagine himself with, so lately he has found himself pulling away from the parties, the drinking and the girls, though it’s hard to change when no one thinks you can. His friends think he’ll be back to his old habits soon and girls still believe they can get him to rock their word for just a night.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” he mumbles, standing from the couch, shaking the hands of the girls off of himself. He ignores as one of them asks to bring her a drink too, mostly because he is not going to get a refill but to hide in his room for a bit, hoping the party will end early, not that it seems possible, everyone is enjoying themselves way too much.

Lying in his bed he is answering some messages and starts scrolling through Instagram only to see most of his friends shit posting about tonight’s party. He notices himself in some of the photos, sporting an unimpressed look in almost all of them and the worst is when he spots himself in the back of a video, a girl behind him curling his hair around her finger without him noticing it. Like a fucking animal in the petting zoo, that’s how he feels like. Growing out his hair was mainly because he knew girls would like it, but then it grew on him more than he thought so now it’s part of his image rather than a tool to get girls.

Groaning he lies flat on the mattress, closing his eyes for a bit, the thumping bass of the music ripping through the house. He wishes it would just stop and the people would disappear.

His room shares a wall with Mitch’s and when he hears the door to his room open and shut, he thinks that someone has ventured into his friend’s room for a hookup which would flip Mitch over for sure. Walking out of his room Harry sees that Mitch’s door is open.

“You guys better not be fucking in here,” he warns whoever is inside, but as he pushes the door further open he only sees one person inside, a girl who jumps and turns around like a scared little deer at his arrival and Harry freezes. “Y/N? Is that… is that you?” he huffs in surprise.

Last time Harry saw you was three years ago. Back then you were just a freshman in high school, looked a lot different, since puberty hit you in your sophomore year, when he was already off to college with your brother who has been his best friend for a decade, being classmates since middle school, all through high school and then going to the same collage.

Harry was always that hot friend of your brother you had a crush on since forever, but for him, you were just Mitch’s little baby sister, who had to be looked after all the time. Harry spent a lot of time at your house, hanging with your brother in the basement and you remember spying on them, trying to always be around them so he might notice you, but looking back at it you see that it was a dead case from the beginning. Harry was popular even in high school, he was on the football team and even dated one of the cool girls for a while. And you? You were years younger than him, had your own circle of friends but you weren’t too popular. The only reason why you weren’t on the bottom of the social pyramid was because Mitch was your brother. Every now and then girls tried to act like they were friends with you just so they could be around Mitch and Harry, but they never really cared about them. They were seniors and you and your friends were freshman, two different worlds.

But that never stopped you to secretly crush on Harry, imagine a day when he would look at you as more than just Mitch’s little sister, that he would take an interest in you. One time you even dreamed about him asking you out to prom, but that was probably the most farfetched idea you had.

You haven’t seen him since he started college, coming home he didn’t spend as much time at your house as he used to, wanting to be around his own family and when summers rolled around you were busy with volunteering so you had something to put on your college application. You saw him once last year from your window when he dropped Mitch off, but you only caught a glimpse of him through the windshield. His hair was getting long, he had several new tattoos on his arm and it all just made him even better-looking than before. Now he is standing right in front of you, his hair longer than ever, the white shirt showing off his inked arm and those tight pants… they should be illegal.

“H-Hi,” you manage to breathe out, already feeling flustered by the way he looks you up and down with no shame.

Harry wonders if it’s just a trick his head is playing with him or it’s really you. The girl he is staring at right now is so different from the one he last saw on the day they moved to campus with Mitch. The awkward little girl with braces is nothing like your version now. You have curves that catch his eyes right away, a beautiful set of teeth without braces, your hair has grown a lot since the last time he was around you… No doubt you’ve grown up and it’s a complete shock for him.

“Wow! I mean… You’re here!” he chuckles before pulling you into a quick hug, but he instantly regrets, because he feels your breasts pushing up against his chest and his hand maps out the curve of your waist, giving him thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

“I am, yeah,” you nod awkwardly, pulling back from him with a dizzy head since you just wrapped your arms around his toned upper body.

“Mitch mentioned that you are studying here as well, but I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

“Sarah invited me. I haven’t exactly made many friends since school started so I thought she could, I don’t know, introduce me to a few people,” you admit, but why are you even telling this to Harry? You can’t quite control yourself around him, especially now, when he is looking his best.

“And Mitch let you come here? I’m surprised,” Harry chuckles.

“Sarah made him,” you smile up at him.

“And what are you doing in Mitch’s room? You need anything?”

“Oh, I was just… Well, I lost Sarah and I don’t know anyone else around here, so I thought I would just… have a breather in here.”

Harry nods, folding his arms on his chest as he rubs the corners of his mouth and you need to force yourself not to stare at his biceps. You can only hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you are to be around him again after so long. Part of you believed you were over your crush on him, but seeing him again definitely brought back those feelings you’ve been harboring as long as you’ve known him.

“A-And what are you doing up here?” you ask, clearing your throat, desperate to break the silence that came between the two of you.

“Oh, I was just… not in the mood to socialize,” he admits with a soft chuckle, your eyes widening.

“You? Not in the mood? Is that even possible? I thought you were still the party animal you were in high school,” you tease him, making him laugh and roll his eyes at the same time and you try to ignore how the butterflies in your stomach are going wild at the heavenly sound.

“You’re making me look like a licentious rebel.”

“And you’re not?”

Harry stares back at you smirking, enjoying the bickering way more than he’d admit and he doesn’t want to let go of it just yet. The two of you start talking, catching up about what happened in the past three years, though mostly you’re the one talking.

You tell him about high school, volunteering and all the extra classes you took, prom and graduation… Then he tells you stories about him and Mitch as freshmen, stories you’ve heard from your brother but you let him retell you, because you’d listen to anything he says. It’s probably the most you’ve talked… like ever and though you thought you knew Harry well, you have to realize that you only knew a layer of him, only seeing him with your brother around, being just in the background all the time, but now that it’s just the two of you and you have all of his attention, it’s a whole different experience.

Neither of you realizes how much time has passed, you’re laughing about a time when he almost missed his math midterm because one of their house mates almost burned the house down, you’re cackling as he is telling you about it when the door opens and your brother appears.

“Y/N where the fuck have you been? Sarah has been looking for you!” he snaps, only then realizing that you’re not alone, you and Harry sitting on his bed with legs crossed as you hug a pillow to your chest. “What’s going on here?”

“Hey man, just met your sister! You didn’t tell me she’d be here!” Harry beams happily, but Mitch gives him a suspicious look.

“Why would have I told you?”

“Because I haven’t seen her in ages?”

Clearly Mitch wants to say something else, but he just shakes his head and swallows it before turning to you.

“You’ve been here all along?”

“Yeah, just ran into Harry,” you nod, smiling shyly. Mitch’s gaze shifts from you to Harry, then back to you before nodding to himself.

“Alright, it’s late, I’ll drive you back to the dorm.”

“What? What time is it?” you ask with widened eyes, searching for your phone in your pocket. Checking the screen you see that it’s already one in the morning, meaning that you’ve been in here with Harry for over two hours. “Oh… okay…”

“I can drive her home,” Harry offers, getting up from the bed with you. “I didn’t drink all night.”

“I saw you with a cup in your hands, dude,” Mitch furrows his eyebrows at his friend.

“Didn’t have alcohol in it, wasn’t in the mood,” he shrugs. You can tell Mitch is hesitant, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods at Harry as you both get ready to leave.

There’s a bit of awkward silence in the car, but you don’t know how to break it. Luckily, he is the first one to speak up, the gentle light coming from the dashboard illuminating his amazingly structured face.

“So you haven’t made any friends around here?”

“Well, I do occasionally speak to my roommate,” you tell him, but it sounds even more pathetic saying out loud. “It’s just… it’s been a bit more difficult than I imagined,” you admit deflated. Harry peeks over at you, seeing the bitter look on your face and he has to fight the urge to reach over and give your hand a squeeze.

What’s happening with him? He just spent hours talking to you, he jumps at the chance to drive you home just to spend some more time with you and now he wants to touch and comfort you? He just can’t help it, seeing you for the first time after years was a complete shock to him just as much as how you’ve changed.

“You just have to grab a hang of it. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but everyone is already ganging up, I can’t just go up to a bunch of people and ask if they want to be friends,” you scoff chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well, you have more than just one friend, that’s for sure?”

“Do you know about something I don’t?”

“You have your roommate, you have Mitch and Sarah and… you also have me.”

If only you weren’t sitting in a moving car you would have fallen out of your seat. Harry Styles just called himself your friend and you’re almost a hundred percent sure that it wasn’t sarcastic. No, the little smile on his lips definitely proves that he meant it.

“Friends do things together. Does that mean we’re gonna… do things together?” you ask shyly, nervously fidgeting around in your lap with your fingers.

“Sure, why not?” he shrugs like it’s nothing, but your fifteen years old self is screaming and jumping right now. You’ve longed for this moment for so long and now… it really is happening, you’re not just Mitch’s little sister, but one of his friends, an individual. Harry pulls up in front of your dorm and parks the car looking at you with a smile stretched across his face.

“Alright, then here, give me your number so I can reach you and… make plans,” you tell him, handing him your phone with your heart thumping in your chest like crazy. You really are asking for his number, something you never thought would happen, but it is. And it’s so freaking exciting!

He nods and types his number in, saving the contact as just ‘Harry’ before handing it back to you.

“See you around, Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side as you get out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride, Harry,” you smile back, shutting the door and walking up the stairs to the entrance. Looking back you see that he is still watching you, so you wave at him before walking in and disappearing from his sight.

By the time Harry arrives back to the house it seems like the party is dying down. There are way less people and they’ve turned the volume down as well, thank God. Ignoring the girls calling out his name he heads straight up to his room, wanting to just lock himself up there and not have to deal with anyone, but he stops at the door seeing that Mitch is in there, waiting for him, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Hey man, what’s up?” he asks with a small nod.

“She’s back at the dorm?” he asks, standing up, walking closer to him.

“Yeah, watched her go inside, she is fine.”

Harry steps to his dresser, looking for a fresh set of clothes to wear after his shower as Mitch walks past him towards the door, but before he could disappear, he stops and turns back.

“You know, I hope you’re not thinking about going after my sister.”

“What?” Harry’s head snaps up. Mitch leans against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he stares back at his best friend with eyes Harry has never seen directed at him before.

“It’s just that I saw how you were looking at her, I really don’t want you to bring her into your little games.”

Harry clenches his jaw, Mitch’s words hurt more than he realized. Knowing that his own best friend thinks he hasn’t changed, that it’s all just a game to him still, it’s like a slap across his face. What should he say? Swear to his life that he doesn’t see his sister that way? That he is not the guy he used to be and he doesn’t have to fear his sister?

Harry hasn’t even figured out what seeing you again meant. Because part of him is still stuck on your past self, the one he saw sitting in the car, driving back home with your parents on move in day three years ago, but then there’s this version he saw today, the grown and mature Y/N who is definitely not a little girl anymore and who got his undivided attention tonight without even trying. It was so refreshing to talk to a girl without her wanting to get into his pants as fast as possible. All he knows is that he wants to talk to you again, he wants to see you again, but as he is looking at Mitch right now, he knows that his best friend will take his head if he messes with you, not that he plans to hurt you.

“Don’t worry, Mitch. I know my place,” he mumbles under his breath, his friend nods before walking out and closing his door, leaving him leaning onto his dresser, gripping the edge so tight his knuckles are turning white.

Maybe Mitch is right. Maybe he hasn’t changed and never will. Maybe he was destined to never find someone who could be like Sarah to his friend.

And that thought is more terrifying to him than he’d like to admit.

NEXT PART

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