#it’s been a long semester and it’s only september | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blckbrdlove · 11 months

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someone else lights up the room

paring: eren jeager x reader

summary: it’s mid-september and eren’s falling in love for the first time in his whole life. too bad for mikasa, it isn’t with her, but with you.

genre: fluff, smut, slight angst (just in case)

notes: well pals! here she is!! my long, long awaited re-write for this series. a lot of this will seem familiar to those who read this part when i first posted this series, but there is some new stuff we haven’t read yet as well! after this part, almost everything we see will be new to all of us. i am very happy to get this out and to hear everyone’s thoughts on the re-write. reblogs and comments are much, much appreciated. please give me any and all feedback you may have. i know i put it off, and missed lots of deadlines i promised you guys, but i have put my whole heart into her. i am very excited to get this whole series out and completed to you guys, which will all be posted (hopefully) before the end of august. title credits; nothing new; taylor swift ft. phoebe bridgers

warnings: MINORS DNI, angst, fluff, meet cute, eren is a hopeless romantic, eren is a gentleman, eren is a sweet boy, eren falls in love with reader basically at first sight and has been smitten with her ever since, reader recently got out of a toxic relationship and is still healing- but is also very smitten with eren, unrequited love (mikasa), mentions of creampie, jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)

word count: 8k

series masterlist next

Eren spots you from across the courtyard walking with your little blonde friend after his final class for the day. It makes him stop and completely tune out whatever Mikasa is trying to talk to him about regarding their upcoming applications for medical school that are due in a few weeks.

You’ve got on a little light blue floral dress that shows off your legs and collar bones beautifully, and paired with some strappy white sandals that show off the pretty polish on your toenails.

It makes him wonder if your skin is as soft as it looks from this distance. He bets it is, and he bets you smell really good, too.

Your friend says something that makes you laugh, the sound bringing a half grin on Eren’s own face as his heart stutters in his chest.

Mikasa looks up to see if he’s paying attention, quickly taking notice of the gleam in his eyes and half smile beginning to take up his face. It almost makes her smile before she realizes he isn’t even paying attention to her.

Her gaze follows the direction of his, quickly noticing you walking in their direction with your friend’s arm linked through yours.

She quickly frowns, being unfortunately reminded of the deep infatuation that Eren has with you that began during last spring’s semester. Honestly, the first time he talked about you, she thought you were an idiot, being the only junior in a freshman level chemistry class and barely passing. She often wondered if Eren tweaked your grades on the papers and exams he graded as Professor Hange’s TA, not that she would ever admit that to him.

Annie had been the one to inform him that you had a boyfriend, and had been with said boyfriend since high school, her knowing from not only going to high school with you and your friends but having been in the same friend group before she broke up with Bertholdt. Apparently her friendship wasn’t as valued to you guys as his was and she made her quick exit and found herself in their little friend group now, thanks to her and Armin’s relationship, if you could even call it that currently.

Discovering your relationship didn’t quell Eren’s interest a bit, and he asked Annie to tell him everything she knew about you, which was actually quite a bit despite not being very close to you.

Annie met you through your, now ex, boyfriend Porco Galliard. You were a cheerleader and top of your class at Marley Prep and you have stupid rich parents who fund your whole lifestyle and want you to be the happiest you can be.

In Mikasa’s mind, you just really aren’t the type of person she think Eren would be happy with. Sure, his family is well off, but your parents, from what she knows, are on a whole different level, and you seem shallow.

She ends up so lost in thought she doesn’t even hear Armin walk up and start a conversation with them, going off about some party that Annie said she was going to tonight and hinted that she’d like to see him there if he was available.

“Armin, not that I mind going with you, but I’m not sure why you need me to go with you?” Eren spoke with slight confusion.

Armin looks between Eren and Mikasa, “I’ll just feel better if the two of you are there with me,”

Eren’s gaze turns soft when he notices how tense Armin is, how nervous he actually is at the thought of joining Annie at this party. Mikasa speaks up before Eren can respond, “We have a really, really important lab tomorrow, but as long as we aren’t out too late we can come.”

It almost upsets Eren at how definitive her answer is, how she’s decided for them that they need to be home at a certain time, that he needs to be home at a certain time. He isn’t a child, and he’s getting tired of all the coddling he gets between Mikasa and his mother.

“Lab isn’t until 9 anyway, so we don’t have to be home that early anyway.”

Armin throws his arms around his two best friends, mumbling quick thank you’s and you guys are the best.

εїз

Eren doesn’t exactly hate parties, but he didn’t particularly want to be here tonight. He’s under a lot of stress with his applications for early acceptance to his top medical school choices being due soon and his mom has been on his ass about coming to visit, which he typically doesn’t mind doing but before returning to campus for this last year at university, he and his dad got into a huge fight over where he’d be going to school and residencies and all the bullshit he didn’t want to deal with, especially since he still hasn’t told his dad that he doesn’t know if he plans on going to medical school.

But there isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for Armin, and if Armin needs him here for moral support, then he’s here.

Grabbing a cup and putting who knows what is in it, he turns around to make his way back to the living room to find his friends when he stumbles into another body. Reaching for your wrist, nearly dropping his cup in the process, he helps steady your body as his eyes widen slightly realizing just who it is he just ran into.

You’re slightly more intoxicated than you’d typically like to be, but after spending the afternoon watching your phone blow up with text after text from Porco before you finally had to buckle down and block him, again, over some of the hateful things he had sent you, all you wanted to do was drink and forget about the stupid break up, which paired perfectly with the fact that Hitch had wanted to come to this party and stalk Marlo.

Eren’s eyes trail up your figure, taking in all of you. Tonight you’re wearing dark wash jeans that compliment you in all the right places, light rips line the area of your thighs. The denim comes up and rests perfectly on your hips, while the light pink top you have on hugs your chest in a way that Eren knows if he looks for too long, his own jeans will start to get tight, with the amount of cleavage your showing on top of the way it clings to you.

Your own eyes look over him, taking in his pairing of dark wash jeans and a plain black shirt that clings to his muscles just right. He’s got nice hair too, you note to yourself, and it’s thrown into a sexy messy bun. You can’t help but wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

The two of you make eye contact and it feels like his eyes are trying to find your soul with how deeply he’s looking at you.

Your staring is interrupted by Hitch, who stumbles in and grabs your free wrist with a giddy look in her eyes, “You won’t believe who just got here,” And just like that, you’re pulled away from him and into the crowd of people.

Hitch drags you over to your other two friends. Historia is sitting on Ymir’s lap as the latter is whispering, what you can only assume, dirty words in her ear. The way Historia is fidgeting in her girlfriend’s lap with her lip between her teeth makes you fairly sure that the two won’t be here for much longer.

You look at Hitch with a raised eyebrow and tilt your head back to the two of them in question. “Reiner is here.” Distaste fills your features at the mention of the blond brute as you hum before taking Historia’s cup from her and drinking the bitter, clean liquid.

“Vodka? Yuck.” Your face is scrunched up as you close your eyes and drink the remainder of the drink. You look back at Hitch, “No Pieck?”

Hitch frowns at the mention of the dark haired girl and shakes her head, not knowing why you would even bother to ask.

Pieck wasn’t initially your friend, she was his friend, but she quickly embedded herself into your friend group after you had started dating him. Hitch never really liked her, to be fair Hitch doesn’t really like anyone, in fact she always thought Pieck had tried a little too hard to be your friend, always looked at you a little too long. There had been multiple occasions where the shorter girl would lace her fingers with yours when she thought no one was paying attention, or Hitch would find her sending a heated glare in Proco’s direction when he would cling to you in front of her.

And it’s not like she’s even been around since the monumental breakup that occurred in June. Sending all of your calls to voicemail and neglecting the group chat before Ymir had enough and finally just kicked her out completely.

Needless to say, Hitch thought Pieck was fucking weird. But what she thought was weirder was that after you and Porco broke up, she completely ghosted not only the group- which Hitch could’ve excused- but you as well. Hitch couldn’t care less about Pieck not wanting to stay friends with her, but what bothered her was how hurt you were over it.

Sure, you have herself, Historia, and Ymir. Hitch has been your best friend since first grade and has never been anything less than your rock. Always there when you need her and never letting you down. And Historia joined the two of you, turning your duo into a trio in sixth grade when you and Hitch decided to join the cheer squad for middle school, and you met Historia at tryouts. The three of you made the squad and the rest was history.

When Ymir started dating Historia freshman year of college, she quickly learned how much you and Hitch meant to her, and in turn, as long as it was in her means, if you needed anything she was there.

But Pieck’s different, she’s no Historia, and she’s definitely no Hitch, but she’s Pieck and you hold a lot of love for her. And you were absolutely heartbroken that when you called her after the huge final blowout between you and Porco and she didn’t answer.

Sure, Hitch and Historia know how bad your relationship was, they know everything, but Pieck was the only one who saw how bad it was. It killed you to know she didn’t care enough to even just answer or send you a stupid text despite everything.

As if she can sense your mood dampening, Hitch grabs your hands, smiling wide and giddy again as she remembers why she drug you out of the kitchen in the first place, “You will not believe who is here!”

You roll your eyes playfully as you turn to give her your full attention so she can talk all about Marlo, not even noticing the eyes that can’t stop looking in your direction.

Across the room Eren stands with Mikasa and Armin, the blonde nearly sweating through his light blue button up shirt. Despite trying to calm him down, Mikasa can tell Eren’s mind is elsewhere. He keeps glancing across the room.

Following his eyes, Mikasa’s land on you with your friends and she has to fight an eyeroll, already irritated with being here.

Despite thinking his crush was stupid, hollow even, she couldn’t deny that she’ll never forget how upset she had been when she overheard Eren talk about you with Armin, the former had told him that you were probably the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

When she looked up your instagram later that same night, her stomach knotted as she noticed just how pretty you looked in all your photos, how put together you always seemed. Mikasa’s never really been insecure over girls Eren had brought in and out over the years, but you were just a different story.

Armin seems to finally catch on to the fact that Eren isn’t paying attention to his nervous ranting.

“Eren! Hello?” Armin finally snaps him out of trance, Eren looking at him briefly before looking back over at you, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” He tells him off handedly, gaze still on you. You have a bright smile on your face as Hitch says something, he assumes, is funny.

“You should just go talk to her,” Armin finally tells him with an exasperated sigh, which causes both Eren and Mikasa’s heads to snap towards him.

“Why would I do that?” “Why would he do that?” Eren’s eyes meet Mikasa’s as she blushes harshly under his gaze that holds deep offense.

Armin looks between the two before he clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean it’s not like she has a boyfriend anymore or anything. Worst case scenario she ignores you,”

Eren nods before frowning slightly, “Yeah, but I almost knocked her down in the kitchen and didn’t even apologize,”

Armin looks at him with wide eyes, almost gasping, “You mean to tell me you finally had a chance to talk to her? And you didn’t?”

Another offended look is on Eren’s face in an instant, “How do you know I didn’t talk to her?”

Armin scoffs as he rolls his eyes at Eren’s question, “Well, actually, I know you. And I know for a fact that you didn’t talk to her because you wouldn’t be over here with us talking about her, you’d be over there with her. And I also know that even if talking to her didn’t work out, you still would’ve said something about it.”

Mikasa frowns again, “But aren’t we supposed to be here to support you, Armin? I mean you’re a nervous wreck.” Armin gives her a weird side eye, and frowns lightly at her behavior.

“I mean I have you here, and Jean and Connie are here if all else fails?” Though he says it as if it’s a question, Mikasa knows the question is why she’s being so defensive about Eren talking to you.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Armin turns back to Eren, giving him a nervous grin, “Just go talk to her1 Annie’s here already anyway.”

Eren nods to himself, and then looks between Armin and Mikasa with a half grin that makes Mikasa want to melt into a puddle. “Wish me luck.”

As Eren makes his way across the room towards you, Mikasa can’t help but frown as she starts to compare herself to you. The outfit you’ve got on compliments your body so nicely, while her ripped black jeans and black tank top do nearly nothing for her own figure. You’re also pretty outgoing, while Mikasa can barely hold a conversation with anyone who she hasn’t known since high school without cringing at herself.

The glitter that frames your eyes is also a deep contrast from the black liner that is smudged around her own, your hair is nicely styled with a pretty silver butterfly clip holding some of it back while Mikasa’s hair is at an awkward stage of nearly outgrown because she hasn’t had a chance to go get it trimmed since coming back to school.

She also has bags starting to form under her eyes, the long nights of studying getting to her. Choosing pre-med as her major in an attempt to stay close to Eren starting to bite her in the ass since it comes a lot easier for him, so he doesn’t have to study as much.

Jean and Connie join Armin and Mikasa once they notice Annie in the kitchen. Connie walks up behind Armin and wraps his arm around him, getting close to his ear so he can give him a pep talk on how to woo Annie. Armin grumbles back that he doesn’t need his help, but when Sasha bounces over, she gets on Armin’s other side and tells him that Connie means well, just take his advice!

Jean stands awkwardly next to Mikasa, who has yet to take her eyes off of Eren. Her eyes finally avert to Jean when he starts talking.

“You look really nice tonight, Mikasa,” She has a slight frown on her face, but she mumbles back a small thanks as she bites her lip. She looks like she does every day, and she wants to tell him that, but instead she gives him a fake smile that she knows he can see right though and asks him if he wants to go find something to drink. He has an idea of what she’s trying to do but smiles softly and tells her to lead the way.

As the two of them make their way to the kitchen, Mikasa takes another glance towards your direction, stomach dropping even more when she takes note that Eren’s standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets.

Hitch had been going on about Marlo and how handsome she think he is for the past twenty minutes; Ymir is about five minutes away from taking Historia up to a bathroom, and you’ve had probably one too many solo cups full of vodka when Eren made his way to you, hands in his pockets and a boyish half smile on his face.

Hitch cuts herself off mid-sentence when she takes note of the six foot two man towering over the couch you occupy, eyebrows raised as she looks between the two of you with a sparkle in her eye once she realizes his eyes are strictly on you.

Your own eyes are wide with drunken curiosity as you look at him. “I know you!” Your voice makes Eren smile slightly as you continue, “You bumped into me in the kitchen, right?”

Eren winces and lets out an awkward laugh, “Uh, yeah. I just wanted to come over and apologize, I had meant to earlier but was a little distracted.”

His heart sputters when you let out a soft giggle, “Oh, don’t worry about it! Parties can get distracting. Though, I’d hate to think you’ve spent this whole party thinking about apologizing instead of actually enjoying yourself,”

Though there’s a teasing glint in the smile on your face and in your tone, your eyes tell him you’re genuinely worried he spent the whole party worrying about the fact that he ran into you.

“Oh, uh no. Well I mean I was distracted by you, but” His eyes widen once he realizes what he said, while Hitch has to hold back laughter at the man in front of her turning red.

“You were distracted by me?” Your tone is slightly disbelieving, and your eyes have a certain shine in them that he doesn’t quite recognize but the look on your face has his own flushing even more.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Ymir and Historia have pulled away from each other and make eye contact with Hitch, whose eyes are gleefully wide as she looks between them over your head. Historia is a little confused due to the amount of liquor she’s drank in such little, but Ymir catches on pretty quickly to what Hitch is getting at and reaches across Historia to tell you that they’re gonna head out and they’ll see you later. Historia looks confused and goes to protest but a quick look from Ymir has her quiet despite her confusion.

Waving bye to your friends, Hitch looks across the room and her eyes land on Marlo, she looks back at Eren with a coy smirk, “Keep an eye on her for me, yeah?” and before he can answer she’s up and gone.

You and Eren sit in a semi-awkward silence for a few moments before he speaks up, “Do you want another drink?” He cringes at his question and silently prays that you don’t think the worst, that he’s just trying to get you drunk.

“Actually, I think I’ve had enough to drink, but maybe we can go sit outside or something?” He nods, an excited look in his eyes that makes you smile brightly. He reaches his hand out to you, and you take it, smiling wider as he helps you up and puts an arm around your back to take you outside. Neither of you notice the heated glare in Mikasa’s eyes as she watches from the kitchen.

It’s a lot more comfortable outside, you’re able to breathe and hear a lot better. He sits next to you on the ground up against the rough brick of the house as the two of you spend nearly the next hour talking about whatever comes to mind.

Eren asks a lot about you, what you like, what your favorite food is, why your favorite song is your favorite song, asks about your major. He tells you that he thinks you look like an art major, which in turn you tell him you didn’t expect him to be in pre-med, which he laughs lightly as he nods in agreement, telling you it definitely wasn’t his first choice. You don’t ask him to elaborate, which he’s thankful for.

Mikasa frowns from her spot next to Sasha as Eren makes his way back over to the group, you shyly behind him with your fingers laced through his. Armin smiles and has to refrain from sending a thumbs up towards Eren once he notices you’re with him. Annie smiles, what Mikasa would consider her most genuine smile, and waves at you. Mikasa nearly forgot that the two of you used to be good friends at one point.

Mikasa tunes out the rest of the group as Eren explains that he’s gonna head out, you’re getting tired, and he wants to make sure you get home safe. He’s got that boyish smile on his face, and Mikasa watches how you’ve got a blinding grin on your own face, eyes not leaving him as he speaks to his friends.

Jean watches Mikasa’s eyes water slightly as Eren sticks his hand in your back pocket as the two of you walk away. Her watery eyes meeting his as she silently begs for him to make the pain go away.

εїз

Eren has you pinned up against the front door to his apartment before it can even slam shut behind you. Your chest pushed up against the door as his hands work their way up and down your sides under your shirt, teasing the underside of your breast as he grinds his erection into your ass as your back arches.

His left hand moves your hair to the side so he can suck on your neck while his right hand reaches for the button of your jeans, making quick work of getting them undone and slipping his hand into your panties. His middle finger makes quick work in circles on your clit, making you gasp in surprise and reach up with you right hand and grab at the back of his head, tangling your fingers his soft brown hair.

The light pull of your fingers causes him to groan and bite down on your neck, causing you to gasp in surprise.

He pulls his hand out of your pants and moves both hands to the hem of your jeans and begins to pull them down. His husky voice in your ear makes you moan out loud when he tells you how badly he wants to taste you.

His body follows his hands as he pulls your jeans down to your ankles, slapping your ass lightly before he spreads your cheeks so he can get a nice view of your cunt, and he groans when he sees how fucking wet you are.

His thumb finds your clit and he puts just the slightest bit of pressure, but somehow it’s enough to make you let out a soft moan of pleasure, causing him to smirk.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” You nod and moan louder as he puts more pressure, rubbing harsh circles as he leans forward and dips his tongue into you. He groans at your taste, and he takes his thumb away from your clit so he can use both hands to pull your body closer to his face.

“God you taste so fucking good,” His words make you blush, but he gives you no time to respond, his tongue finding its way back to your clenching hole.

“Ohmygod,” You can’t contain the gasp of pleasure that leaves you as your right hand reaches around to hold his head in place as he continues fucking his tongue in and out of you, hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you as close to his face as he possibly can, breathing be damned.

His tongue alternates between fucking your hole and licking at your clit. His left hand moves from your hip to your cunt, and he sticks two fingers inside you as he continues licking at your clit. He groans at your tightness around his fingers, that with the addition of the taste of you driving him insane.

“Er-eren!” You yelp out his name as his fingers make quick work of finding your g-spot, you feel him smirk against you once he feels the spongey spot. Fingering you faster, his mouth moves back to your clit, and he puckers his lips around it and begins to harshly suck on it.

The feeling is too much, you feel like you can’t breathe. His fingers repeatedly hitting your g-spot, and his mouth harshly sucking on your clit has you cumming before you even realize it.

“Eren, ah! Fuck, I-I’m cumming,” You moan out, trying to warn him so he can pull away if he wants. But he somehow manages to keep surprising you.

“That’s right baby, you fucking cum for me.” Curling his fingers slightly harder against your g-spot, his free hand grips your hip harder to hold you in place as your body starts to tremble as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t pull his fingers away until you’re nearly sobbing from the stimulation against your g-spot, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of your clenching hole.

He smirks as you gasp, one hand still clinging to his head while the other hold the trim by the door for dear life. Slightly leaning forward, he licks your cunt one last time in a harsh strip from your clit up, momentarily sneaking his tongue back in you one last time for good measure.

Pulling away from you, he stands back up, slowly pulling your underwear back up. Giving your ass a light tap, he bends back down and lifts your legs up one at a time at your knees to help you pull your jeans off of your ankles. Eren folds and lays them on the end table by the front door before he makes his way back over to you, who’s now turned around, face flushed and facing him with legs still slightly shaking.

He smiles at you once his hands find their place back on your hips, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that makes you gasp in surprise, but your arms quickly make their way around his neck. Licking your bottom lip, he lifts you enough to where you can wrap your legs around his waist so he can walk you to his room. His tongue works its way into your mouth, causing you to moan slightly around it as he continues kissing you until he reaches his room and sits you on the edge of the bed.

You look at him confused when he makes his way over to his closet, pulling out an old black band t-shirt. It’s faded, but well taken care of. Your eyebrows furrow when he hands it to you and makes his way to his dresser, pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and changing into them, leaving the t-shirt he was wearing off.

“Did you not want to…” Your voice trails off as you look at him with furrowed brows as he makes his way back over to you, fighting hard to keep your eyes off of his naked chest. He crouches down so your eye level, and he frowns when he sees the slight insecurity swimming in your eyes.

Reaching a hand up, he caresses your face and rubs his thumb just under your eye before he lightly pulls your face to his, kissing you again. This kiss is much lighter than the previous one, softer, he’s being much gentler. When he pulls away you frown slightly, leaning forward for more but he stops you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, trust me when I say I do want to. Like, very badly.” He huffs out a laugh through his nose, the furrow in your brow slightly deepening in a silent question, “But I also happen to enjoy you very much, and I’d like to take you out properly, ya know?” He blushes deeply as he says it, but the smile on your face brings a huge grin to his own.

Reaching forward, you wrap your arms back around him, pushing your face into his neck as a small sigh leaves your mouth, “I think you might be very good for me,” Eren hears you whisper as you nuzzle your face into his neck. Eren lets out a soft but genuine laugh as he pulls your body closer to his, hoping you’re right. Hoping he might just be good enough for you.

εїз

Mikasa looks around Jeans room, trying to stay as far away from him as possible in his full size bed, and she can’t help but wonder what you and Eren are doing right now.

Regret starts building deep in her gut as she realizes what she’s done with Jean will not only change the dynamic between the two of them, but also the fact that Armin is going to be so fucking disappointed in her once he realizes she only slept with Jean because she was upset Eren left with you.

Carefully crawling out of his bed, she quickly finds her phone and clothes before getting dressed and quietly leaving Jeans room.

Guilt is swirling in her stomach as she walks as quickly and quietly as she can out of his apartment and makes her way up a few flights of stairs to the one she shares with Armin and Eren.

She prays to herself that Armin and Annie decided to go back to Annie’s place, so they don’t have to see the disgusted look she has on her face. Disgust with herself, disgust with the fact that Jean let her use him, disgust with the fact that that the more she walks, the more she can feel Jean’s cum leaking out of her. Her disgust is quickly overcome by even more guilt as she unlocks the front door to the apartment.

Guilt is a terrible feeling, it’s nothing compared to the heartbreak she feels as she’s walking towards her room. Because the last thing she expected when she walked past the bathroom was to see Eren holding you up on the counter by the sink as he attempts to wipe the glitter off of your eyes.

He’s got that stupid smile on his face as he whispers for you to keep your eyes shut, he’s almost done. He holds your head at the nape of your neck gently with one hand while the other makes work of carefully rubbing your eye.

You’re mumbling incoherently, sleep lacing your voice as you hold your arms around his neck, head following wherever his hand guides it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eren notices Mikasa’s disheveled appearance, while he doesn’t make a comment one it, she notices the way he raises his eyebrow in surprise.

She wishes she could say something to defend herself, but her gaze is too caught on you. The way he holds you tenderly makes her stomach turn, he’s so careful and gentle as he caresses your face, it makes her frown in envy.

“We’re almost done, you can have the bathroom in a minute,” Eren tells her softly, and she hates that she knows his soft words aren’t for her benefit but your own. She watches as he does a quick glance over your face one last time before he throws away the makeup wipes from a brand she didn’t recognize, watches as he gently lifts you at your hips to wrap your legs around his waist and how your face instantly makes its way to his neck in an almost natural way.

“Night, Mikasa,” Eren whispers and smiles when he hears you mumble a soft night of your own. “Good night, Eren,” Her voice isn’t above a whisper either, so he doesn’t hear her voice crack as he shuts his bedroom door, leaving her in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom light, alone.

Despite all the negative and harsh thoughts running through her mind, all she can focus on is the fact that Eren had let you wear his favorite shirt.

εїз

Eren’s been awake for nearly fifteen minute, he knows he should probably wake you up too. He has a class in a little over an hour, and if he waits too much longer to get up, Mikasa will come to get him like she always does when he sleeps in.

But he can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re lying next to him making that old ass ‘the cure’ t-shirt look as good as you currently are.

He can’t help but admire you. You just look so perfect.

“You’re staring.” Eren flinches in surprise at your words, not realizing that you’ve already woken up.

“I’m gazing,” You peek an eye open at his words, a half-smile making its way onto your face at his cheesiness.

“It’s creepy.” He scoffs at you, leaning his face so close to your own that your noses are touching. “I think it’s pretty romantic.”

A hum leaves you as your raise your eyebrows at him, eyes closing slightly as you lean closer to him, lips nearly touching his, “Romantic you say?”

He sighs, nodding as his eyes refuse to leave yours, “Definitely romantic.”

Just as he’s about to lean in to seal the deal, a loud knock at his door causes the two of you to pull away from each other, “Eren, get up. We have class in a little more than an hour. I will not be late again to one of Hange’s classes because of you.”

He groans, head falling right next to your shoulder, “Yeah. Thanks, Mikasa,”

A laugh leaves your mouth, causing Eren to grin, “What time is it anyway?”

Eren reaches for his phone, clicking it on, “9:15,”

You groan loudly in despair. “I have class at 10:30,” The pout on your face almost has Eren asking if you want to skip and go get breakfast. Almost. But when you reach for your phone and sit up he decides against it.

He watches you scroll through your phone for a minute, not peeking at whatever you’re doing so he doesn’t seem like a creep. You’ve still got a little bit of glitter on your face from last night, and Eren inwardly cringes at the fact that he couldn’t get all of it off.

He likes the way you look in his bed, not to get ahead of himself but he definitely thinks that waking up with you a few days a week is something he could get used to.

Hopefully, next time you guys will have time to go get breakfast though, or maybe if it’s a weekend, you could get brunch.

Eren’s thoughts leave his mind when you look back over at him, a soft smile on your face, “Any chance I can get you to give me a ride home on your way to campus?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He tries not to sound too excited at the thought of you sitting in his passenger seat. You mumble out a soft thank you as you watch him get out of bed and make his way towards his closet, leaning your head in the palm of your hand as you admire the way his back muscles move and flex when he pulls a black t-shirt over his head.

“What class do you have this morning?” He asks, with genuine curiosity, you look away to give him some sort of privacy as he takes off his sweatpants and underwear so he can put on a pair of dark wash jeans and new briefs.

“Oh, um, it’s an advanced sketching class. Nothing special.” Running your fingers through your hair, you stand up and look around his room for your jeans.

Eren turns back around as he’s buttoning his pants up, smiling when he finds you standing awkwardly without pants on. “Your pants are in the living room,”

A half-grin is on your lips when you make eye contact with him and nod. “Right, I forgot.”

“Forgot I ate you up against my front door last night?” He’s cheeky, and it makes your body heat up as you bite your lip to stop a smile from showing you enjoy his teasing. Reaching over, you lightly slap his arm and mumble for him to get his head out of the gutter, to which he gives you a cheeky smile and a peck on the cheek in relation.

Mikasa is sitting on the couch in the living room when the two of you walk out, and she has to fight looking at you too long once she notices you still aren’t wearing pants. Just that stupid t-shirt that Eren’s been attached to ever since he found it at some local thrift store when they were fourteen.

You smile and send her a small wave, getting a blank look in return that makes you frown slightly. Eren appears in front of you, holding your jeans with that same boyish grin on his face. “I think your shoes are still in my car,” A small okay leave your mouth as your slide your jeans on, not really caring for modesty at the moment since everyone in the room has already seen you without pants on.

Eren holds your phone and keys out to you, “I, uh, couldn’t find your shirt or the clip you had in your hair last night.” As he scratches the back of his neck, you have to refrain from ogling his biceps as they flex. “Oh, uh, that’s okay,”

Before either of you can say anything else, Mikasa clears her throat, “I hate to interrupt, but we have a class to get to.”

Eren gives her a weird look at the tone she uses and the look she’s giving you. “Actually, we’re taking a detour. We’re going to drop her off at her place first.”

She frowns and looks over you under her nose now that she’s standing, before giving him another look, “Eren, we seriously can’t be late again.”

You finally decide to speak up, “I can always get an uber-“

“I think that would be for the best.” “Absolutely not!”

You look awkwardly between the two of them as they glare at each other, feeling extremely out of place. You give Eren an uncomfortable look, “Really, I can find my own way home,”

Eren lets out a scoff, his eyes softening as he looks at you again, “It’s really not a big deal. And if she has such a problem with it, she can take a bus.”

Mikasa lets out a noise of disbelief grumbling a whatever, sending you a sharp glare as she storms to her room to grab her bag.

She can’t fucking believe him, how dare he? She’s been nothing but good to him for twenty-two years and this is what she gets in return? Over some random girl who didn’t even know his fucking name twenty-four hours ago?

The car ride to your apartment from theirs consists of an extremely awkward fourteen minutes, not that you were counting. Mikasa had sent you another intense glare when you went to sit in the front, practically forcing you to sit in the back and ignored you the whole time, talking over you anytime you tried to respond when Eren spoke to you.

You have to refrain from letting a huge sigh of relief leave you once the car stops in front of your building. Eagerly getting out of the car, you don’t even notice Eren quickly stumbling out of the driver’s seat as he tries to catch up with you.

“Hey! Hey, wait up!” His voice makes you halt your steps, turning around to look at him. “I’m really sorry about you, I don’t think she had a great night last night and-”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Eren,” You don’t mean to interrupt, but he really doesn’t owe you any sort of explanation.

Slightly frowning he responds, “Well, I know. I, I just had a really, really good time last night, and I didn’t want to end things on a bad note or before I can ask for your number.”

“You could’ve just asked,” A light laugh leaves you at his more detailed than explanation, “I just meant you don’t have to apologize for your friend. Everyone has bad nights sometimes, and having someone throw of your routine can make stuff like that even worse.”

“Oh,” He laughs awkwardly as you hold out your hand for him to give you his phone. He watches with enthusiasm as you punch in your number before calling yourself, so you have his number.

“Text me later! I’d stay and talk more, but I need to go change for class and I think if you stay any longer, Mikasa may just glare a hole in my skull.” You press your lips against his cheek softly before you turn around to enter your building, “See ya later, Eren.”

His whole face is burning up by the time he gets in the car, too engrossed in what just happened to even notice that Mikasa has a deep scowl painting her features.

His phone buzzes, pulling it out he sees it’s a text from you. A fond smile is on his face when he sees it’s a mirror selfie of you in his t-shirt with a half grin on what shows of your face. For my contact photo <3

“Are we going to class or what?” Mikasa grits out with a hateful tone, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oh, right.” He awkwardly coughs out as he starts the twenty minute drive to campus. Very, uncomfortably, awkward twenty minutes.

εїз

Walking out of your sketching class, you’re pleasantly surprised to find Eren standing there waiting for you with, what you assume is, an iced coffee in his hand. Once he notices you, a huge smile appears on his face.

“Hey!” Your face heats as he hands you the drink enthusiastically, “Uh, Hi!” You look between him and the drink with curious eyes, causing him to blush as you take it.

“Oh, right. It’s an iced chai, with oat milk. I had Armin make it, he said you seemed like the type to like chai, but if you don’t like it then I can take you and get you something else.”

Your eyes don’t leave his face as he goes on about how Armin said oat milk was definitely a safe choice, because in case you have a dairy allergy, he firmly believes it superior non-dairy milk. Eren continues rambling for a few minutes about how he has no idea about the differences between almond and oat milk before he finds himself lost in your eyes that seem lost in his.

Smiling, you reach your free hand and grab his own, “I love oat milk. And, I have to agree with Armin, it is the superior non-dairy milk.”

Relief washes over his features as he smiles brightly at you, eyes traveling over you as he takes in your outfit change from this morning. You’ve chosen pink again today, and he can’t deny that it looks great on you, though he wishes you had kept on his shirt instead of going with the pink jeans with the pink corduroy jacket over a cropped white tank top you’ve chosen today.

You clutch your black tote bag closer to you as you sip the drink happily, grinning at Eren as you bite on the straw.

He smiles softly and clears his throat, “Anyway, I had a question for you.”

You quirk a brow, nodding for him to continue, “There’s this old theatre in town, they play lots of older films. They’re playing Rear Window on Friday at 7:30. Last night you mentioned you like older movies, so,” he sticks his hands in his pockets, biting his lip and glancing up at you, green eyes shining.

Your face heats up even more if possible, “Are you asking me out?” You pray his answer is yes.

“I mean, yeah! But, like, only if you want, though,” He’s met with a lip bite as you fight back yet another grin.

Despite wanting to say yes, you feel the slight need to be cautious. “I would love to go see Rear Window with you, but-”

Eren has to fight the frown that begs to take over his features at your words as you continue. “I just got out of a relationship. The only relationship I have ever been in, actually. And, well it wasn’t exactly a great relationship,”

Looking up at him you give him a small smile, “I would love to go out with you Eren, on a date. But do you think we could maybe, I don’t know, just hang out for a little bit? Take things slow?”

Eren tries not to look disappointed, because he does understand and he’s not disappointed, more bummed than anything honestly. But, he’s spent a whole semester pining over you, what’s a little longer?

“Absolutely!” The relief in your eyes makes whatever disappointment that was trying to creep in disappear completely.

Yeah, he absolutely can take things slow. No problem at all, right?

Can you take things slow, though? Probably not.

A comfortable silence develops between the two of you as you leave the fine arts building and head towards the parking lot to the south of it, “Do you want to get lunch with me and my friends tomorrow? I can pick you up around 1?”

Looking at him, you smile and nod, “Yeah, but are you sure no one will mind?”

Neither of you need to say anything to know you’re referring to Mikasa and her behavior towards you this morning. His face falls slightly at the thought of you not wanting to meet or hang out with his friends just because she was acting out of character this morning.

“Of course not!” It rushes out before he can control it. “If you’re worried about Mikasa, she had just had a bad night last night, like I was telling you earlier. It had absolutely nothing to do with you!”

You bite your lip, still unsure as you two come to a stop next to your car. Looking up at him, you sigh internally when you see his green eyes are already staring deeply at you, as if he’s begging you to say yes.

Despite a nagging feeling deep in your stomach, one telling you not to give in, especially so soon, a small voice in your head tells you that this, that he, could be good for you.

A soft smile creeps onto your glossy lips as you nod, telling him you’d be happy to go with him to lunch with his friends.

The smile the breaks out on his face makes all your negative thoughts disappear.

This will be a good thing, worst case, you just don’t click with his friends. He seems to like you plenty well already, and you like to think you’re likeable, surely his friends will, at the very least, get along with you.

#fic: ioblwbbrbig #eren yaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren yaeger smut #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jeager x you #eren jaeger fluff #eren yaeger fluff #aot fluff #she's here #*finally lol*#i hope you guys enjoy her!

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1d1195 · 3 months

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My Friend's Toyota I

🎶 here she is! Based on the song of the same name, by Asiris 💕 I wanted to write this before spring arrived. It's just a few parts (I'm thinking 4 right now) only because the first part got so long 🤭

~8k words

Warnings: college!Harry but otherwise none really. Just wanted to write a cute romantic story. Maybe the tiniest bit of angst (but maybe not in this part just yet). This part is a little ramble-y but I promise it'll come together quick.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

Can’t believe September’s already over / Looked for stars and I found a supernova / praying to God that I can hold her close / ‘Cause I know she’s worried ‘bout the snow / She said “Darling, should I bring a coat?”

Harry thought he was more excited to go to university than anyone had ever been. “For drinking right?” his friends from school asked with a laugh. They chatted about it all the time during the summer before they all left their hometown in favor of the new chapter of their lives. Harry liked drinking, sure. It was fun but he enjoyed hanging out with his friends more. At least when they were in university they wouldn’t be drinking illegally anymore.

But Harry was a bit of a hopeless romantic.

He believed university was the surefire way to meet the love of his life. The person who would knock him off his feet, make his heart grow three sizes too big for his chest, and simply just... feel like he was right where he was supposed to be.

The first semester of university came and went.

Harry didn’t meet the love of his life.

He had Mitch. His roommate and one of his best friends from home. But Mitch was in love with their friend Sarah and unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about Mitch as Sarah felt about him. But that was okay. He still had lots of time to find the person that would make his stomach flutter.

But spring semester came and went too.

Harry tried to find her. He went on dates with several women he met in classes and at parties. He heard the whispers and rumors about him. It made him a little sad that some of the women he went out with never corrected the rumors. His longest relationships were no more than a month, but Harry couldn’t help it that he didn’t feel the spark he was looking for and ended things before they really got going.

It was supposed to be all-encompassing. Make him breathless. Knock him to his knees. Maybe he was being ridiculous. At the age of almost twenty he was being unrealistic to want something like that. He was young. There was plenty of time for love.

But was it so bad that he wanted it now?

His dorm room with Mitch was a suite and they each had their own rooms. They decorated the main room with the help of Sarah to make it homey (and also stopped them before they used empty vodka bottles as décor). Their dorm was one of the “party” dorms, but they rarely hosted. Harry and Mitch wanted their place to be a safe place. It rarely saw more than ten people—and that was only when he and Mitch were pre-gaming with other friends to go to a party off campus. Sometimes Harry brought his friends back if they had too much to drink. It made him feel better knowing they were in a safe place. Sarah even brought back a girl that was too drunk to make any good decisions of her own accord. Harry minded over her with worry because the poor thing was all but sobbing as she threw up most of the night and whined about how sad she was.

Harry actually dated her for about a month after—some kind of savior complex that he should have known doomed their relationship from the start.

So, he kept waiting to find the love of his life. But he couldn’t help but feel discouraged as he complained to his mum and Gemma over the summer that he didn’t find her that first year.

“Honey bunny, it’s too early to think like that,” Anne smirked. “You’re so young.”

He shrugged. “I guess. M’jus’... Mitch has Sarah,” he reminded them.

“I know, but...” Gemma smiled sadly at him. “You’re not Mitch. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

Well Harry didn’t meet her the following year either. Twenty came and went. He continued hearing rumors about his body count. The only ones ready to defend him ever was Mitch and Sarah but he simply didn’t care. The girls he met at parties, bars, in class, they all continued to flirt with him and when Harry felt the hope of a spark, he chose to pursue it—not because of the rumors, not because he felt like he had to in order to find the love of his life, simply because he was young and enjoying his life.

But September of his third year.

Oh.

Harry was appalled that as a third-year student, any of his major professors deigned to have an eight-AM class. It felt like death as he walked with the throng of people headed to the correct buildings when the sun was barely high in the sky. His eyes felt droopy, and he was certain he yawned the entire walk from dorm room to classroom.

His backpack was slung over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have gone out last night. He wasn’t hungover, but he was just so tired. The chance of meeting the love of his life could have been at that party. That wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss.

“I told you,” Mitch muttered to him liking eight-AMs more than the average college student. Get it out of the way. He stuck his foot out causing Mitch to stumble a bit and he smirked with a low chuckle. “Idiot,” Mitch grumbled.

Harry didn’t know what he wanted to do with his degree yet. Another component of divine intervention he was hoping would appear in front of him. Love and career. He hoped the universe would help him figure both out sooner rather than later.

Mitch veered off to his own building and Harry counted down the minutes until he could trek back to his dorm room. Harry was yawning—again—and shook his head trying to perk himself up as he made it to the building where his classroom resided on his schedule.

Harry chose a seat in the back of the room. Put his head on the desk and tried not to think about how his bed might be his real soulmate.

Harry was much more awake now that his professor had re-sparked his interest in microeconomics. All his classes were econ-based this year and he was honestly super excited to look at different facets of his major and maybe that was divine intervention. He had four required economic electives: sports, law, history, and statistics. Additionally, he would be taking a math class that was a pre-requisite to the class he needed for next semester. He tried not to think about it too much.

With a pep in his step, he no longer felt like going back to his dorm and sleeping as he told Mitch he would be doing instead of joining him for breakfast. He wanted to go to his next class or the bookstore. He wanted to geek out over the intro lecture he just heard to someone that would care and wouldn’t brush off his nerdiness. What he really wanted was someone to kiss at the end of the day and tell him all about their classes and ask what he wanted to do for dinner—whether it was dining hall food or a date in town.

“Hi Harry,” someone called as he fantasized about his little dream life. He didn’t even see who it was, so he turned to catch a glimpse.

“Hi—” he started to call politely. If it was someone he knew, he didn’t want to be rude. As he turned, he must have shifted into the path of someone else’s walk to class. He bumped into someone with about half of his body. He knocked her phone out of her hand. Also made her stumble off the sidewalk a bit. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said bending for her phone before she could. The water bottle she had tucked in her bag also fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” He was hopeful he didn’t hurt her, but who knows, she could have tweaked her ankle on the edge of the walk and Harry would have felt horrendous for the whole rest of the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her voice was a bit rushed. “I just transferred here this semester, and I’m all turned around and I’m going to be late—”

Harry glanced up at her having gathered her belongings from the dewy grass and finally caught her gaze. She stopped speaking when Harry looked at her. He swore his heart stopped. They were off the sidewalk, now. People were walking quickly to and from their classes. Harry could feel the gaze of people who knew him as he walked by. Trying to figure out who the girl was he was talking to.

Harry knew he hadn’t found the love of his life yet due to lack of connection. They liked Harry well enough, and he honestly was fortunate to have had a few girlfriends who were kind, intelligent, and pretty. Those he had dated the past two years simply didn’t scratch that itch for the fantasy he had: asking about his day, telling him about hers, and what did they want to do for dinner.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

They hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds while Harry dreamed of happily ever after with her. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Where are y’headed?” He asked quietly.

She shook her head rapidly and pulled her phone from his hands. Harry tried to memorize everything about this moment. The concentrated expression on her face while she scanned her phone screen. “Umm... Livingston 210,” she sighed. “Am I going the complete wrong way?” She asked nervously. “God this is so embarrassing. I spent all day yesterday walking around trying to map out my paths and I had to park in a different lot, and I am the worst with maps and directions,” she rambled.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “S’this way. Let me walk you,” he offered. “You’re fine,” he promised glancing at his own watch. “You’ll... you’ll be early,” he reassured her.

She blew out a relieved breath. “Really? Don’t you have a class to get to?” She asked. “I don’t want to put you out—”

He shook his head quickly. “No, not... not at all, love,” he murmured. “M’happy t’do it. Got a break before m’next class.”

Her face took on this gorgeous smile that Harry wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget. The relief was palpable. It seemed almost excessive, like he was a doctor and told her that she wasn’t ill and not that her class was only about a three-minute walk. But Harry adored that smile. The way her eyes lit up along with the curve of her lips. “Thank you, so so much. I’m so nervous and know absolutely no one—except my roommate. But she doesn’t have class until noon. Plus, my transfer credits went in late last week so the schedule I had planned is all different than the one I made in June. I really almost considered just leaving and transferring back—”

He chuckled at her little ramble. He liked it a lot. Way more than he probably should have for having met her only ninety seconds prior. He wondered if she always did that. The need to find out was nearly unbearable. How could he prolong the conversation? How could he get her number in the next two minutes it took her to walk to her class? “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the direction he had come from.

Was he being ridiculous? Maybe.

But this was what he wanted. The way his heart stopped. He couldn’t ignore that. Was he holding his breath? Was she feeling the same warm tension that was covering his entire body with the need to look at her? This was it. She hadto be it. The love of his life. The first day of third year. His heart felt... whole.

“Oh good, this is familiar,” she sighed with relief. Chuckling, Harry held the building door open for her to pass through. “Do you like candy?” She asked as she entered.

Blinking curiously, Harry wondered if she had some conversation in her head that he wasn’t privy to that resulted in such a question. “M’sorry?”

“Candy?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he smiled at her curiously.

“Okay, I’ll get you candy as a thank you for walking me, then,” she promised with an assured nod of her head.

Harry was floored by her kindness to a stranger. It made him feel so overwhelmed that he ignored how ridiculous it all seemed for him to act like this. So that meant she wanted to see him again. He chuckled. “Y’don’t have t’do that, love. S’not out of m’way,” he reminded her.

“I know... but you don’t know me, and you look important.”

“Look important?” He repeated dumbly and gestured to the stairwell for her to ascend. He followed beside her hoping he didn’t look as creepy as he felt feeling so overwhelmed with how he already felt about her.

“I don’t know, everyone was staring at you while we walked over,” she shrugged.

He smirked. But he was surprised he missed that. Usually, he noticed when people called out to him. “Everyone?”

She nodded. “I think a few people even did a double take,” she explained. “So, you must be important.”

He rolled his eyes with another little laugh from his lips. “Uh...I don’t think m’important,” he admitted. They stood a few feet away from the door labeled 210. “S’really no trouble. I jus’ left m’eight AM from here,” he promised. “Was jus’ going t’get breakfast. M’happy t’help.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get you candy,” she said glancing at her watch and then the classroom door. “I like to get a good seat for the lecture. I’ll... see you around...?” She waited for him to fill in the missing information.

“Harry,” he said wiping his hand on his leg before holding it out for her to take. The first time he would touch who he was certain was the love of his life.

“Harry,” she repeated, placing her hand in his while introducing herself as well. “I’ll see you around.”

His heart was aching with something that had to be a cross between infatuation and undeniable love. Her hand felt so nice in his and it was just a handshake. Imagining their fingers twined together made him ache with want. “Wait,” he said right as her hand touched the doorknob. “Where’s y’next class?” He asked. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened her schedule. “Uh... Sawyer,” she said reading off her phone. Harry’s heart leapt. “312.”

He felt tingles all through his body. From fingertip to his stomach, to the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “Yeah?” He asked rhetorically. The question was more for the universe; it’s way of telling Harry she was here. “I’ll walk you,” he promised. “We’re in the same class.”

She turned her face briefly from him—maybe an effort to hide the blush that was covering her cheeks and making Harry fall even harder for her. “Yeah?” She wondered.

He nodded. “I’ll meet y’at the front of the building when class gets out, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay, thanks, Harry,” she sighed with relief heading through the doorway. “Enjoy your break,” she called over her shoulder.

Harry floated back down the steps. Honestly, he wanted to wait outside her classroom, but he just met her, and he wanted—no needed—this to work. Wanted it to work more than anything. The smile plastered on his face had his cheeks hurting but he couldn’t stop. He nearly sprinted to the closest dining hall where he told Mitch he would meet him for breakfast.

“Sorry, m’late. I jus’ met the woman m’going t’marry,” his voice was all airy, falling into a seat beside Mitch with a dreamy look on his face.

“Whoa,” Mitch chuckled. “You look sick.”

“I feel sick,” he laid down onto a second chair. Backpack still on. He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love.

“Glad you met her, Harry. Finally, right? Can you act like an adult?” Mitch muttered cutting up the waffle he had on his plate. Sitting up he smiled at his friend.

“We have class together next.”

“Isn’t that your math class?” He wondered. He thought about the schedule Harry was insistent about putting on the fridge so they could find each other if needed while at home. For emergencies. But Mitch didn’t understand why the schedule needed to be on the fridge if Harry made him commit it to memory anyway.

“Yeah, so?”

“You hate math.”

“No one likes math,” he grumbled.

“Maybe she does. Maybe she’s not your soulmate.”

“Shut up,” he dropped his bag in his seat and headed to get food. Upon returning with his tray, about three other people said hello to him. One girl stopped him asking if he was coming to her party this weekend and one of the guys that he knew from his pickup soccer games asked if he was available tomorrow night for a game at the rec field. “If she likes math then... jus’ mean she completes me. Still m’soulmate,” he shrugged.

“You got an answer for everything,” Mitch laughed.

Harry found her sitting on the barrier wall to the mini garden outside the building. One of her legs stretched along the length of the cement ledge and the other dangled off the side. With the need to get her to class on time, Harry didn’t have time to ogle her at all. But now, as he approached her, he noted she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers. Obviously, her worry about being late to class must have meant she considered sprinting if it got late enough. Her T-shirt was this light orange-pink color. Like she was modeling a sunset. She had a book propped on her thigh and she leaned over reading, like she was simultaneously doing yoga while reading.

“Hey,” he called. Her head perked up and she smiled, putting a bookmark in between the pages and swinging her leg over to say hi.

“Hi!” She chirped excitedly. “I was afraid I missed you when I ran back inside.”

Back inside? He frowned. “Did y’class end early?”

“Yeah... almost a half hour ago,” she shrugged hopping off the ledge. “Syllabus and all. Doesn’t happen that often to me—I’m majoring in accounting and finance, so all my classes just jump right into the lectures and lessons. But this is a sociology class that my other school didn’t offer but I have to take here to graduate,” she explained with an eyeroll. “They were insistent.”

“M’sorry y’had to wait,” he frowned.

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I got to read a bit and—oh!” She twisted her backpack around her body and into the zip pocket. She retrieved whatever item she was looking for and held it out for him to take. “For walking me,” her voice was so sweet.

Harry felt his jaw fall open just a bit as she placed the Twix bar in his hand. “Twix is my favorite, but I got Starbursts too if that’s more your vibe. Reese’s if you like peanut butter. I wanted a variety just in case and it won’t go to waste regardless—”

“Twix is m’favorite, too,” he said turning the bar over in his hands. He looked up at her as if she really was placed right in his path. Fate. Out of nowhere. Like a star exploding out in the universe and dropping this angel in its spot.

She smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Where’s Sawyer, then?” She asked while zipping her bag again and heading toward the walkway when he walked her to the building earlier. “I want a good seat,” she reminded him. Since she got him his favorite candy bar—and simply because she existed and was without a doubt going to be his favorite, period—he wanted to make sure she got the seat she wanted.

He wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted.

Was it normal to want to hold someone’s hand like this? Harry’s immediate thought was no. It wasn’t normal. Wanting to hold hands with someone the way he was craving to hold her hand had to be the most abnormal thing in existence. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three weeks, he waited outside Livingston, watching her descend the front staircase to the main floor. They chatted the entire ten-minute walk to Sawyer where they shared a math class. She insisted on sitting closer to the front than Harry would ever consider but he was immediately enamored with how sweet she was and there was no way he could let someone else sit beside her.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were slowly becoming his favorite days of the week. They were his weekend even with a packed schedule on the two days. Talking to her was everything he had been longing for the last two years of school.

On Sunday, he slept until almost ten-thirty. He was lying in bed while scrolling through his array of social media and other correspondences. He heard the shower running, so either Sarah or Mitch must have been well after a night of drinking.

Three weeks. After three weeks of pining and walking her to and from class, he got an email on a Sunday.

The subject line read: Be-Twix you and me I’m glad we’re friends. He threw himself out of his bed and paced the main room trying to figure out if it was Mitch or Sarah in the shower. He knocked. “Sarah!”

“Sorry, Harry. She’s sleeping,” Mitch called.

He opened the door anyway. “She emailed me.”

“How 2002 of her,” he snorted.

“You’re useless,” Harry grumbled closing the door shut. He truly considered barging into Mitch’s room and waking Sarah for a girl’s opinion but after doing the very same and seeing way more than he was supposed to of his two friends, he opted for figuring it out himself. He vaguely wondered if there was a way to open an email faster. He must have read it a thousand times and it was only four sentences long.

Hi Harry!

I was wondering if you would want to study for our exam together? I like having someone to study with, but if that’s not your vibe I understand :) Let me know either way! This is my number if you would prefer texting.

Harry thought there were no prettier ten numbers than the ones that formed her phone number. He was immediately ready to text her but luckily had the wherewithal of checking the time stamp of the email to see if he was looking desperate but struggling to care. Fortunately, the email was from a little after seven-thirty.

He could have chatted with her for three hours longer if he hadn’t slept so late.

Hi, it’s Harry 😊

Hi! Glad my email didn’t scare you off. My roommate said that my Twix pun was horrendous.

It’s adorable. Thank you for emailing. I’d love to study. I work until five... I can meet you somewhere?

Do you like coffee?

I love coffee 😊

Do you think it will be cold around five? I’m still getting used to the weather around here. I want to bring a coat.

Harry made a mental note to pack an extra sweatshirt in case she got too cold. Can’t hurt to bring one. You never know what the weather will do around here.

Forty minutes a week.

Forty blissful, perfect minutes in the month of September had been spent chatting with the stranger that bumped into her on the first day of the fall semester. The sun was warm despite the breeze chilling her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough time but she somehow managed to fall incredibly hard for him anyway.

It was a bit ridiculous.

Her roommate—and only friend—was also a transfer student. However, Allie was much more outgoing than she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have fun; it was just different than how Allie enjoyed herself. Allie made friends everywhere she went. Their off-campus but university-owned apartment was always in flux of visitors from her classes, her club tennis team, or just someone she met while eating lunch in the dining hall between classes.

Allie was a good judge of character though, so she never worried about someone of bad rapport traipsing through their place. Also, Allie was always sure to keep everyone away from her room, of course.

But Allie had no problem flopping on her bed around ten in the morning and nosily glancing over her shoulder. She had left her email open anxiously waiting for a reply from the most handsome guy she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. “Be-Twix?! Sweetie, that’s atrocious,” she rolled her eyes. She groaned in response.

“I... I don’t know,” her face felt hot with shame. She really liked Harry. “It seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe that’s why he’s not answering me,” she frowned.

“Maybe he just sleeps like a normal college student and doesn’t wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said knowingly patting her knee reassuringly.

“Have you seen the leaves?” She whispered almost in awe. “I went for a walk to get a bagel and—”

“I’ve seen them,” Allie smiled with a shake of her head at her silly friend. The adoration she had for little things was admirable, sweet, and just... if Harry Styles broke her heart, she would break his face. “I lived here my whole life, remember?”

But she didn’t live here her whole life. So, she was in awe—her first true fall since she was a toddler that she didn’t even remember. There were pictures of her jumping into a pile of leaves with her mom that her dad had just painstakingly raked. The south didn’t have pretty leaves like this in the fall. Palm leaves didn’t change color other than wilting brown when it was too hot. She intended to spend every minute looking at the beautiful hues of orange, red, and yellow so as not to miss the pretty season she hadn’t gotten to enjoy for most of her life.

After another agonizing thirty minutes of waiting for him to respond (and breathing with sweet relief that he did want to see her later) she told Harry that she was worried about it being cold later in the evening. She had grown up closer to the Tropic of Cancer which was now roughly 15 degrees south of her current latitude. She hated the heat; it made her skin feel dirty and oily with sweat all summer long. Her hair was too thick, her skin naturally too warm. Just thinking about her thighs sticking to her leather car seat in July was horrific.

But her parents had grown up and met here on this pretty autumn-picturesque campus. Somewhere not quite freezing (at least not yet, so she had been told) but not quite suffocating with heat like home. They left here when she was two to situate themselves in Hell’s sauna room. After taking the general requirement classes at a state school, she wanted to transfer up north to the university where her parents fell in love. Call her a hopeless romantic, but if she hadn’t found the love of her life amongst the bathing suit, half-clad guys on the beach during the last two spring breaks, then he probably wasn’t in the south. Instead, she hoped she might find him around the ski slopes.

She hadn’t anticipated finding Harry before her first class started.

Forty minutes.

That was how much time Harry generously gave her outside their shared class combined on Tuesday and Thursday each week.

She wanted more. Greedy with want and didn’t know how to do it without tying it to school. Part of her worried because what if he just pitied her and now didn’t know how to get away from her? They had class together; he couldn’t be rude. Even if he didn’t like her the way she was already falling for him, it was very obvious that Harry was a good person.

“Just be careful,” Allie warned lightly. “Harry has a bit of a reputation I hear.”

She frowned and shrugged. She knew what Allie meant. People around her weren’t exactly subtle and while she listened to music in the dining hall while she ate, or studied in the library, or even just read her book. Those around her whispered. They had seen the pair of them walking to class. Apparently, Harry never looked like that before. The whispers included Harry having plenty of girlfriends. Sometimes two or even three at a time. That just seemed ridiculous, and she felt so sad others talked about him behind his back. There were even quiet bets about how long she would last in the list of Styles’ conquests.

So, she understood that Allie was just trying to look out for her. “Well... I like him. He doesn’t have a reputation around me,” she shrugged. Allie frowned for a moment. She was so sweet.

“Just be careful with your heart,” Allie looked at her with a bit of worry in her eye. But her smile was encouraging. “It’s too good for university guys.”

She had only known Allie about three months longer than she had known Harry. They both moved in at the start of the summer, working off campus and getting to know one another as well as the area (not that it helped her directionally illiterate mind). Allie was lovely and all the things she wanted in a college-best-friend that she never really got from commuting to the local college when she lived down south. “I think you would like him.”

“I can like him and still want someone better for you,” she shrugged leaning in the doorway. She didn’t want to taint the image of perfect Harry. But the stories she heard weren’t easy to ignore. She had seen him at parties since her best friend met him on her way to her sociology class. It was hard to miss him. It was like he was the star of every party.

He drank with his friends and girls obsessed over him. To her friend’s nearly naïve point of view, however, Allie hadn’t seen Harry flirt back. He was helpful and kind to those that drank too much; guiding them outside and gently pulling a girl’s hair back for when she threw up in the shrubs. It was endearing in a lot of ways. But she would still kill him if the rumors of a string of girls was true. If her new best friend was just another notch in his belt, Harry was dead. “You are so sweet to believe in the good in everyone. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken if he isn’t as lovely as you think.”

She smirked looking at the emojis and rapid influx of messages Harry was sending her trying to coordinate timing and picking her up, so she didn’t have to walk. “I won’t,” she promised. But she didn’t say that she thought he was better.

Harry was fifteen minutes late. He blamed the table he was waiting on before he left. They were overbearing and wanted their meal comped—that much was obvious. Looking for the smallest hiccups to rebuke him. Harry begged his manager to seat them in another section. Having waited on them before, but no dice. His heart was in his throat wishing he had time to go home and change but he couldn’t. If he was a moment later, he was sure he was ruining everything.

Unaware of Harry’s worry, she waited patiently on the bench outside the apartment building the university had taken as more dorm suites. She continued reading her book trying not to think about how maybe Harry had better things to do than study for a math class on a Sunday. Especially after work. But he had texted her he was running late, and he was on his way.

She was glad she decided on a coat, it wasn’t freezing, but her thick skin ill-suited for hot weather was already thawing and feeling the chill of the early October weather. She spent an embarrassingly long time sorting through her athleisure wear trying to decide. Something suitable for studying at a coffee shop that wasn’t overstated but not quite sweatpants.

Right when she thought about calling Harry, he appeared in front of the bench. Parking and getting out of his car quickly and hurrying to the passenger side. “I am so sorry,” he said hurriedly dragging a hand through his curls. She admired the motion; enjoying how mussing them didn’t matter much and they fell right back into place. She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her own staring at him.

“For what?”

“M’so late, love. S’rude. M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh...it’s...it’s really okay. I was already out here—”

“S’cold,” he frowned eyeing her sweatshirt and the coat at her side.

“I’m okay!” She promised. “Is everything alright?” She asked and stepped toward him putting her hand on his forearm. He thought he might explode at the feeling of her skin on his. It was more intimate than their handshake, and she got the feeling she wanted to twine their fingers together again.

Harry seemed to breathe with a sigh of relief, and he looked at her with this stunned expression. She couldn’t figure out why. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Jus’ felt bad being late.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in a rush or anything—”

“No, love,” he shook his head. “M’sorry because I wanted t’see you so bad,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair again making her heart take off at a speed that had to be unsafe for her health. Almost immediately she felt light-headed. He wanted to see her. He just told her that. There was no hiding it. She could feel that emotion thick in his voice.

“Oh,” she repeated, completely stunned and confused. “Really?” She asked in complete shock.

“Yes, very, very much,” he sighed dreamily.

Her cheeks warmed hotly under his gaze. The pair of them stood there. Staring at one another as if they were statues destined to look at one another for all eternity, frozen in time to capture a moment like theirs. The October air was rapidly cooling, but she couldn’t feel anything but heat. Like she had stepped out of the airport terminal back in the south except this heat was not suffocating. It was so welcoming.

For a few moments they just stood there, her hand touching his forearm, gazing at one another. Part of her thought it would be nice to be a statue on the street. At least if Harry was beside her. Eventually, he shook his head ever so slightly and smirked. “So...coffee?”

She cleared her throat, smiling brightly. “Please.”

Just one week later, she was chatting with a friend from her sociology class. The moment he saw Harry, he knew Harry was there waiting for her, just as he had been since they met a month earlier. Harry recognized him from attending many parties that his frat hosted at one of the houses someone had off campus. His eyes seemed a bit surprised to see Harry waiting at the bottom of the steps, doing a double take at him waiting for the girl he was walking with down the steps.

“Hey Harry,” the guy said quietly.

“Hi!” She chirped gleefully. Her excited smile felt like too much on her face, but she had no way of knowing. She also didn’t notice the turmoil the guy felt seeing the competition between himself and Harry. (If she did know, she would flat out tell him there was no competition—other than school, Allie, and work, her mind was all about Harry.)

“Hi,” he said politely with a smile and turned toward the person he actually cared about talking to. “Y’ready for math, love?” He asked gently.

“Always,” she started for the main door. “See you around!” she called sweetly over her shoulder.

On Saturday, Allie asked if she wanted to go to a party with her. She was more than happy to stay in and read her book. But she teased her. “Harry might be there,” she winked knowingly.

As much as she didn’t pay any attention to the rumors about Harry, it was hard to fully ignore them the way she wanted to. It wasn’t that she distrusted Harry. No, if anything, she believed in him more than anyone else. But it did sound like Harry had a different party persona. She was not a party person. Honestly, she wanted him to have fun they way he wanted to. Going to a party just because he was there...

“That’s alright, I think—”

“Oh, come on!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll help you get all dolled up and we’ll just have a couple drinks, and we can leave if you hate it. But if Harry is as smitten as you say he is, I bet he won’t let you leave,” she giggled.

Her face warmed at her friend’s assumption and she tried to picture a scenario in which someone as attractive as Harry would worry about little ole her like that. “Isn’t it cold out?”

“So wear another sweater!” Allie rolled her eyes.

“That’s not very college party of me.”

“Well, I would suggest an alcohol blanket, but I feel like getting you drunk before you even see Harry would be bad.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll make me look pretty?” She asked quietly at her friend in the doorway.

“Prettier,” Allie nodded assuredly.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go to a party.”

Allie’s arm was looped through hers. It was freezing out. But honestly it felt nice. She was just a bit shivery. “I thought you said I could wear another sweater.”

“Sweetie, hiding your assets at a party would be criminal.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. They entered the door, dodging the guy standing at the door to keep people in and out very quickly. “Hey Allie,” he said.

She waved in response and headed right inside. She thought maybe it was a good thing Allie told her to skip the sweater. The heat inside the house was nearly as warm and humid as the airport terminal. The air was thick with the sour smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat. “I don’t know how people want to hook up with anybody around here. I can’t think of very many places that are less of an aphrodisiac.”

Allie smirked and pushed the pair of them through a throng of bodies toward the kitchen. She grabbed two red cups from the sleeve of them off the counter and asked the makeshift bartender—surely some poor freshmen pledge—to pour them drinks. Her gut felt a little off about the gesture. “I don’t know, Al,” she whispered softly.

“I’ve had them here before,” Allie promised reassuringly. She still wasn’t thrilled with the idea as she took the cup from her friend.

“Hey Allie!” Someone called. Allie turned, looking over her shoulder as she called back over the pounding music. Meanwhile she looked at the liquid sloshing along with the ice. She thought maybe she should have taken her chances with the jungle juice—no one would be stupid enough to touch that, even if it would end with her throwing it all back up at the end of the night.

The pair of them circled around the house, briefly stopping to watch the end of a rousing game of beer pong. The winning person slammed his beer back, dripping along the sides of his mouth triumphantly which made her smile. Allie rolled her eyes and tugged her out back. A bon fire was in the middle of the yard. Another sober freshman pledge, undoubtedly in charge of standing guard. The music was still loud but way less aggressive outside. There were other large groups of people outside as well chattering and drinking away. Allie worked quick; left her alone by the fire—which she was grateful for since it was warm. When Allie returned, she was already sipping her second drink, holding a third, and dropping her empty cup in the trash bin right near the house. Oof, her head was going to kill tomorrow.

“Harry’s here,” Allie whispered to her as she got close to her again. There was a twinge in her knees, like she might fall at the mere thought of him. It took all her self-restraint to not whip around to catch a glimpse of him. She wasn’t playing hard to get, but this was very much not her scene. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever fun he was having. “You should go say hi,” Allie nudged her.

She smirked, wanting to take a sip of her drink but still feeling hesitant so she just put the cup to her lips, like she was pretending to sip it. “Uh...maybe later. I don’t want to interrupt,” she responded directly in Allie’s ear. The good news was she managed to peek over her shoulder to see him standing a little ways away from the fire. It was too dark to make out any specific features or defining muscles but just the way he stood was hot. She felt insane for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible not to. He was so cute. He had one hand in his front pocket, a drink in the other hand, and just a plaid flannel layered over another plaid flannel. His eyes and smile were lost in the dark, but she could picture it. The light evergreen color that was simply her new favorite color along with the pinkest most adorable lips curling across his face and making dimples in his cheeks that would make the Grand Canyon jealous of their depth.

“I think he would probably die if you interrupted,” she snickered.

Briefly, she entertained the idea. She could ask how Harry was doing on his homework, but that wasn’t the best party talk in the world (even if she did want to know). But she was still a little nervous, especially outside class, their walk, and even their study not-quite date to chat with him about anything. A party was more than likely his element. She could see why. Girls were surrounding him ogling very much the same things that she probably ogled on her way to math class. He was easy to talk to, sweet, and of course very handsome.

She shook her head. “Do they have s’mores?” She asked suddenly.

Allie spit her drink back into her cup and laughed. “Jesus Christ,” Allie rolled her eyes. “No; college-students don’t have s’mores at a party.”

She frowned. “I feel like this party would be a lot better if it did,” she grumbled.

Allie wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, please,” she kissed her cheek. She laughed lightly.

“If we had a party with a fire, I promise there would be s’mores,” she was very decisive. “It seems sinful to not have them.”

“Hey, love.”

She felt her whole body stiffen and somehow soften at the same time. They both turned to his voice and now she could see in the firelight, that the red colors of his flannel contrasted so sharply with his eyes. The green seemed to amplify—even in the dark. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled sweetly.

“Didn’t know y’would be here.”

“Yeah...uh... this is my best friend and roommate Allie,” she gestured to the girl beside her. “She invited me,” she explained.

“Hi, Harry,” Allie held her hand out. “Heard lots about you. And seen you around a lot,” she said knowingly.

“Hi, Allie,” he said sweetly shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for bringing her,” he grinned winking at her flirtatiously. “Can I steal her from you?” he asked. “If s’alright with you,” he turned back to her, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he was reading her mind. Not that there were any other thoughts than Harry, Harry, Harry.

“Listen Harry,” Allie said squaring her shoulders.

“Oh my God, Al,” she shoved her back a bit. “Don’t.”

Harry took a step away and looked back at Allie nervously. “This is my best friend,” Allie said with the third drink doing most of the talking.

“Allie!” She hissed.

“I love her so much,” tipsy-Allie was very loving and adoring. A bit flighty too. If she didn’t have a rush of alcohol spinning her blood quickly through her, she might have been a little less aggressive.

“I see,” Harry smiled. “I will take really good care of her Allie. I promise. Y’have nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shoved a hand back in his pocket. He looked at her shyly, knowing that Harry was also talking directly to her and not just her tipsy best friend. “I should have asked though,” he said with a smile. “D’you...want t’hang out a bit?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“How polite,” Allie snickered. Her smile faded rapidly as she glared back at Harry. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might have missed the way he gulped nervously. “Don’t break her heart, Harry,” she pointed accusingly at him.

“Allie, enough!” She pressed a hand over her face.

“Don’t leave without me, either. I’ll be with my friends,” she said and flitted away as if there was nothing abnormal about her behavior.

“I’m so sorry about her,” she whispered still with a hand over her face. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’okay. S’good she cares ‘bout you so much,” he nodded. “I agree completely,” he assured her. “M’really glad t’see you. I was so surprised and distracted...I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have asked first t’steal y’away...” he glanced at her full cup. “Don’t like your drink?” He asked.

“Um...no, well. Kind of. I’m a little wary of accepting it from someone I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t try to talk her out of how she felt which made her heart flutter more. “S’a good point...d’you want t’walk to the bar down the road?” He asked.

“I’d have to leave Allie,” she smirked. “Not sure I want to put that on someone else.”

“Hold on,” he said and rushed off to the house. It was only a couple minutes, if that. But he reappeared with a can in his hand. “I pulled it out of the fridge when the kid was turned,” he smirked.

She giggled. “My hero,” she laughed and sipped it without fear.

“So... d’you want t’go...find some place quieter t’talk?”

She glanced at the house. “Is there somewhere to talk?” She asked.

“Yeah... m’friend Niall and his friends are hosting. He’s got a keypad lock on his door, and I know the code t’his bedroom.”

“You always try to get girls into your friend’s room?” She asked quirking an eyebrow at him while sipping her drink. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’nothing like that, love. Jus’ want some privacy.”

“Well, that’s fine by me, even by the fire, it’s chilly out here.”

“You’re cold? Here,” he pulled off the top flannel and draped it on her shoulders then put a hand on her lower back to guide her back toward the house. She could feel the stares of others on them as they meandered back. “S’not even winter yet. S’gonna be tough on your southern blood,” he smiled.

She smiled. “My parents are from here. I think there’s some northerner in me yet. Just got to get it out of hibernation.”

Harry chuckled. “You’ll still need a coat, love,” he promised.

If Harry was going to offer his own clothing to her, she wasn’t sure she’d want to bring her own coat at all.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #my friend's toyota

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puppy-steve · 1 month

Text

strawberry wine

real life has got me feeling stressed and uncertain so, naturally, i started thinking about a previous fic, which can also be read here

The kitchen’s dark, save for the light above the sink. Steve is elbow deep in soapy dish water when the radio on the china hutch behind him clicks on, a soft country ballad trickling into the quiet space. Arms wrap around his waist and Steve huffs a laugh as he reaches for the dish rag to dry his hands.

He turns in Eddie’s arms and is met with an expression that’s so open and full of love. It still catches Steve off guard sometimes, still not used to being loved by someone who proudly shows all of his emotions on his sleeve.

Eddie takes Steve’s hand in his as they sway in the dim light. Steve buries his face in Eddie’s shoulder and closes his eyes, letting him take the lead.

I still remember

When thirty was old

My biggest fear was September

When he had to go

The lyrics are like an arrow in Steve’s stomach. He grips Eddie’s shoulder tighter and presses closer to him as they continue to sway in the slow circle. Eddie just rubs a soothing hand up and down his back.

A few cards and letters

And one long distance call

We drifted away

Like the leaves in the fall

Doesn’t mention the tears seeping through his shirt or the way Steve’s shoulders wrack with silent sobs. Eddie presses a kiss above his hair and holds him tighter while he croons softly.

Strawberry wine and seventeen

The hot July moon, saw everything

My first taste of love

Whoa, bittersweet

“I don’t want you to go,” Steve admits against his shoulder, feeling a bit like a child throwing a tantrum. He thinks he’s allowed to be a little selfish when it feels like his whole world is being ripped away from him.

Robin’s transferring her community college credits to a state school after her gap year ends and the kids are a month away from graduation and starting their own college journeys.

Corroded Coffin’s been noticed. Their gigs at The Hideout have been growing ever since Eddie’s name was cleared and the murder charges were dropped and there was an actual scout at their last one. Talked to the band and showed them a pretty picture of fame and fortune.

And a way out of this cursed town.

And Steve? Steve has no idea where he’s headed in life. He gave college a try three separate times after Vecna and dropped out each time after a semester. Too stupid to understand what his professors were talking about and unable to keep up with the workload while also working full time.

What good is he if the world isn’t ending? If he isn’t being the protector, the body they need when shit goes sideways (it always goes sideways.) His parents were at least kind enough to pay off the mortgage and cover the utilities for at least a year before they fucked off to God knows where, but once that’s up? Family Video only pays so much and he’s definitely not being paid to drive the brats around every weekend.

“I know,” Eddie says, because they’ve already talked about it. The band’s been invited up to Chicago to meet with label executives next month to let them hear some samples of their music, and that means the possibility of signing a contract and finally getting their big break.

Steve is so, so proud of him.

He’s also so, so lost.

They’ve stopped dancing. Eddie is still running his fingertips along his spine comfortingly. Steve sniffs and pulls back just enough to look at him. His boyfriend has opted for a flannel over a band t-shirt today. Steve fiddles with the collar and doesn’t meet Eddie’s concerned eyes.

“But you have to go.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “I can’t hold you back from something you’ve waited your whole life for.” He gives Eddie a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Corroded Coffin is your baby.”

Eddie cups his face and frowns. “You’ll always come first, you know that, right? Even if I’m on the other side of the world, as soon as you say the word, I’ll come right back to you.”

Steve does know that, and it scares the absolute shit out of him. Being loved so completely and unconditionally. It’s been almost three years and he’s is ashamed to admit he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to wake up and realize he could do so much better than a washed-up has-been who peaked in high school.

For him to realize that Steve Harrington isn’t actually a good dude after all.

But he wants this thing with Eddie to last longer than three years. He wants forever with him and he can only hope that Eddie wants the same. So he swallows down his insecurities and self doubt and leans into Eddie’s space, pressing their noses together and taking the lead of the dance this time.

“I promise not to call too often, then.”

taglist (mutuals lmk if you want to be added!): @yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy

@tboygareth @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual

@theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie

@corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero @simplebtromance

#cj talks #cj writes #steddie #steddie fic #this new tagging format is ugly but it works. i promise i wasn't forgetting yall i just didn't realize you wasn't being tagged 😭😭😭😭#there was someone who asked to be added via dms but i can't seem to find the message?????

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yeonjuns-beanie · 3 months

Text

Halo Pt.2

warnings: less plot, but still plot, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, biting, light blood(play), light hair pulling, body worship, oral(f receiving), light degradation, yandere themes, dub-con, think that's it

summary: in your free time you do freelance writing, doing interviews with people most would consider strand and unusual. when you recognize that one of the regulars in your coffee shop only visits in the evening, you pose the question of where you can interview him, upon his agreement, you realize this is unlike any other interview

a/n: holy shit, i am alive actually. i feel kinda horrible that i last posted in september. life got kinda crazy, i was slammed with uni and work, and had intense writer's block. anyways, i hope those of you who enjoyed the first part enjoy this one even more! i'm not entirely sure how active i'll be this semester, but i'm not going to make any promises lol. as always, i hope you enjoy and have a great day! :D ~nero

word count: 5.4K

Vampire!Seonghwa x female reader

pt.1

Seonghwa looked off to the side, inhaling a calculated breath before he spoke.

“The nightlife. Where I was before was too prosaic and mundane. It lacked character. But here? There’s a flame that ignites when the sun goes down.”

You scribbled down his last sentence wanting to maybe use it as the title for the piece when you finished. Looking back up at him, you felt your body relax and suddenly everything felt easy.

“Where were you before?”

“Everywhere. I’m a bit of a nomad, you see? I can’t stay chained to one place for too long.”

“Did you find your last locations to grow boring, or was it something else?”

“Something else. Rather of my own doing, but needing to keep my needs satiated is a necessity.”

You paused for a moment and glanced at your notebook littered with questions trying to find the next avenue you’d walk down. You hadn’t been faced with someone so careful in their speech. He was answering your questions, yes, but not in the full detail that you desired. He was making you work.

“Being a nomad, you must have a flexible job. What do you do for work and what’s your haven for play?”

A smirk formed on his face, like he knew he was stumping you. Running his fingers through his onyx locks, he went to lick his lips and you noticed the length of one of his canines peeking from behind his upper lip.

“Ah, yes. For work, I was lucky enough to benefit from years of generational wealth, but I hated the fact of that being my only accolade. So I sought after art. I always rendered an interest in building things so I thought, why not extend that to an artistic field?”

“What’s your medium?”

“Sculptures and charcoal portraits. I love capturing time in a piece. I don’t know how long this life will grant me so I enjoy partaking in affairs that allow me to immortalize that time. Remind me to show you some of my portraits.”

Nodding, you remembered the busts you saw when you entered his home, the question crossed your mind if those were his art.

“Those busts that you have in your entryway, did you make those as well?”

“So you really were quite entranced. To answer you, yes, I did create those as well. They’re of my family who have since passed on. I don’t have many left in my life so it aids me in keeping the memory of them alive.”

Moving your hair out of your face to look at him, you furrowed your brow feeling sorry for him as you processed his statement.

“Are you all alone out here?”

The concerned look on your face quickly fell to anxiety as you feared you may be prying too much into his personal life. Getting ready to speak again, Seonghwa stopped you with the gentle raise of his hand and smiled.

“You’re not overstepping any boundaries, my dove. When I agreed to sit with you, pen in hand with the recorder running, I alleviated all forms of privacy for you. You may ask me whatever you feel called to ask. I’m yours for the evening.”

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you silently acknowledged him, and thanked him for being so tender with you. His velvet voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“To answer your previous question though, yes, I am all alone. It was lonely at first, but after a while it became comfortable. Perhaps preferred. I did find that recently though, the exigent desire for a partner has been pulling at my heartstrings.”

“With your interest in the nightlife here, surely it shouldn’t be too hard to find yourself a companion. Not to mention if you’re speaking romantically, I’m sure you’d find yourself plenty of options.”

You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth, but it was already in the air now and you just had to hope and pray that he’d let it slide.

“What are implying?”

Of course, he wouldn’t.

“I’m just saying…that, you know, you are an attractive guy. It seems like you’d have a particularly easy time…weeding through people.”

“You think I have a lot of suitors?”

Seonghwa had his arms folded across his chest now, gaining pleasure from making you squirm.

“I’m saying that I think you’d have a fair amount of people to choose from, not necessarily that they’d be worthy of your time.”

You brought the pen up to your lips, feeling your anxiety swirl in your body as Seonghwa continued to hanker down on you. You glanced over at your notebook again, seeing what you could ask to divert the subject but before you had the chance to speak, Seonghwa was prying.

“Worthy of my time?”

“From first impressions, you seem…difficult to entertain. Not to be impressed by the bare minimum, which if considering this town, there is a lot of.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, smiling without showing his teeth. His aura radiated a slimy smugness that irritated you but also ignited a fire within you.

“I’d beg to differ. There are a select few I’ve come across. I wouldn’t be so certain in your statement.”

Your mind was swarmed with questions, most of them centering around who he was entertaining and if you even spared a shot with him.

“Have you found a lover yet then?”

With Seonghwa still hovering over the desk, he looked so much larger than usual. He commanded even more attention and you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away from his as he stared you down. When he spoke, he raked his eyes over your form and was begging whatever deity was out there that you’d pick up on his hints.

“I’ve found who I want to be mine, she just doesn’t know it yet. I’ve been leaving her clues, paltry I know, but I beg that she pick up my scent soon.”

“Like a secret admirer?”

“You can call it that, yes. What I feel for her though is more than what a secret admirer could possess.”

You felt your heart drop, not even letting the delusion have time to manifest to let you think that this “she” was you. You nodded your head and looked toward your notebook again scanning over your questions to see where you wanted to take the interview next. As you went to look up at Seonghwa again, you noticed that unabated gloss cast over his eyes again. The other thing you noticed was that his eyes seemed to change color. It was hard to tell for sure in the dim lighting of the study, but you swore you were seeing flecks of red in his irises.

As you inhaled to speak, you felt your body freeze and an indistinguishable tingle ran rampant through your limbs. Panic registered across your pupils as you tried to move but soon recognized that you were glued to the chair. Your limbs were attached to the wood of the desk as if your skin were made to melt into the surface. Suddenly as you looked at Seonghwa, you realized that you recognized this feeling, the energy that was emanating across from you. It was all too familiar.

It wasn’t sleep paralysis. It was him.

“Ahh, yes it was, my dove. I’m disheartened that it took you this long. Thought the journal would’ve been clue enough.”

Feeling that static in your fingers trail up your arm and down through your body, you felt control over yourself again. You pressed your back flesh against the chair, a feeble attempt at creating space between you two. Your vision was unfocused for a moment and in the blur created, you understood that the man across you was the figure in the corner of your room last night. Your breath quickened with fear, but something else mixed in with your emotions that you couldn’t quite place yet.

“Y-you we’re in my room last night?… Why?”

Seonghwa stood up slowly, his hands planted firmly on the desk. His frame which was at first sleek and inviting was now imposing and ravening. His eyes were boring into you making you feel so minuscule under his gaze. His tone was low, almost near a whisper, but his next words sent a chill down your spine.

“Because I can’t bear to leave you alone.”

Your eyes blew wide in panic, fear present in your features. You wondered how you could find a way out of this, a way to remedy the situation but you felt completely and utterly trapped. You looked behind you to the door of the study and defeat enveloped you as you came to the conclusion that any attempt you made to escape would prove to be fruitless. As you returned your gaze to Seonghwa, he was shaking his head, a grin cast on his face.

“How could you even think about leaving so early when we haven’t finished the interview yet, y/n? I’ve looked forward to this all day, I’d hate for it to end so soon.”

Seonghwa furrowed his features into a pout, persuading you to swallow your fear and sit forward. Maybe, if you indulged in him he’d let you leave. As Seonghwa sat back in his seat, a new wave of questions ran through your brain. Whether or not you’d include this in the posted interview, you needed closure for yourself. Asserting yourself in your spot, you sat taller, your gaze piercing his as he did to you moments before. Your voice carried a dominance that hadn’t been present all evening.

“How long have you been following me?”

“Fiesty are we?”

“Hwa, how long have you been on my tail?”

“My dove, I’m disappointed. How could you not realize all those rotten feelings you felt when you stepped out of your car were because of me?”

His face was sickening, he was enjoying this. The smile that painted his face was sardonic and it made acrimony bubble within you. All those weeks where you felt like you were going brainsick were because of him.

I can’t believe him right now

“Better start believing y/n. At least you have the comfort of knowing you’re not demented.”

“Stop doing that!”

It was freaking you out that nearly every thought you had about him he had a response to. He was inside your head and you couldn’t place how he was doing it.

“Doing what, darling?”

“That! Being in my head! How are you doing that?!”

Your fear was making you hostile and agitated. You felt completely out of control and you hated every second of it. You were in a stranger’s house, agreeing to come based on the hopes that you’d get something out of this and now you were shackled in this room with a stalker. You stared down at your notebook trying to fit the pieces of all of this together. The thought finally dawned on you that he knew where you lived, and it was no mere coincidence that the journal you found at your front door perfectly matched the pen he gave you. Your eyes landed on a bookshelf behind you and you noticed a horrifying similarity between what was sitting on the shelves and what was resting underneath your hands.

“Ask me.”

Your head whipped to Seonghwa’s voice, not daring to disrespect him for you were fearful of the consequences.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me how I know your thoughts.”

You inhaled a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the answer you were about to be given. Sighing you looked straight into his eyes, and that’s when you noticed the color of them changed. A deep carmine colored his irises now. Your eyes squinted, trying to understand his motive now.

“How do you know what I’m thinking.”

He inhaled a breath, mocking you. He smiled at you, something sickeningly sweet about it.

“Vampirism. Vampirism is how I know. Vampirism is also how I’ve been able to stalk you without the thought of me ever crossing your mind. It’s the reason why I was in your bedroom, why I could never leave your thoughts, why you were entranced by me. By design, you were meant to be allured by me and you were. Which is why you’re sitting across from me.”

You were stunned. You always entertained the idea of supernatural creatures, but never did you think that were actually real. Never in your lifetime did you think that you’d be face to face with a vampire and with that knowledge you were now more fearful of your situation. Your next words flew from your mouth without any chance to filter.

“What do you feed on?”

Seonghwa leaned forward and smiled, the tip of one of his fangs peeking out onto his bottom lip.

“Whatever I can get my hands on. I have to say though, the more fear that exudes from my dinner makes the taste that much more delectable. And you, my sweet y/n, are absolutely intoxicating right now. Almost as sweet as last night. Gods, it took everything in me not to devour you then.”

You held your composure, but something stirred in your lower stomach. Radiating heat between your thighs.

Arousal.

You were feeling aroused by his words, and you were ashamed by it. Here you were, at the mercy of a stranger and yet, you were aroused by the transparency of his truths. You tried to push the feeling to the back of your mind, but something was bringing your innermost fantasies about Seonghwa forward. His eyes were indulging in you in sheer gluttony, looking at you like prey and you couldn’t help but think that he was holding back on what his inner monologue consisted of.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

You leaned forward, asserting yourself now that a lustful wave crashed over your body.

“So that’s what gets you off? Carnal urges, is it?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“While true, it is what I heard prior to you speaking.”

Rolling your tongue across your teeth, you were through with the antics.

“What’s on your mind now, Hwa?”

He smiled flashing his teeth, his fangs on full display.

“Truthfully, I’m running through all the ways I want to consume you. To make you mine. And it’s becoming quite painful to ignore.”

You wanted to call his bluff, to catch him off guard even with the disadvantage of him invading the privacy of your mind. You stood up from the chair, the legs creating a painful scratching sound across the wood. You walked around the edge of the desk and positioned yourself in front of him, gently laying your hand on the table in front of his, your fingertips barely touching. Leaning down, you stared into his piercing garnet eyes damning yourself to cosset in the feelings that were licentious in nature. Wetting your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, you felt your eyes blow in temptation and you knew he was aware of every second of it.

“Then do something about it. Live up to this lavish vampiric character you’ve laid out for me.”

With the passing of a second, the roles of power drastically shifted. His body moved with a swiftness that you hadn’t experienced and before you had a chance to register what happened, you were caged underneath his frame with your hips nailed against the side of the desk. His slender hand snaked its way to your neck, wrapping his deft fingers around your face and forcing you to look at him.

“Careful, pet. I don’t think you understand the gravity of your words.”

Eyes darkening with lust, you smirked at him feeling a sense of power as you watched him lose control in front of you. Moving your body to sit on top of the desk, you rolled your neck, exposing your most vulnerable space of skin to him.

“You reek of luxuria, have you any shame?”

“Not any more than you.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you trailed your hand up to the nape of his neck, goosebumps forming in its wake. You curled your fingers into the hair resting on his neck feeling fulfilled as you watched his body shiver in unabashed desire for you. His chest heaved heavy breaths as his lust for you was becoming harder to control. Seonghwa let his head fall into the conjunction of where your neck and shoulder met, his breath creating an intense humidity that only aided your arousal.

Pulling at his hair, you positioned him to look at you head-on. His eyes were blown wide, the red of his irises nearly covered up by the black of his pupils. His breathing was still heavy and you could feel a small bulge prodding at your inner thigh. Rolling your hips into his, you watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, only the white of his sclera showing. As he breathed out, a small whimper was swallowed in his throat. Pulling at his hair, he opened his eyes to look at you.

“Devour me, Seonghwa.”

Any suppression of his feelings turned into a zealous carnal display of affection. His lips were on yours in a second, hot and impassioned. His hands roamed over the exposed flesh of your thighs, indenting the skin with his fingers each time he squeezed. Your head was squirming with floating ideas and wrestling with the plain fact that you were getting exactly what you wanted.

As Seonghwa swiped your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, you parted your mouth just enough to grant your tongues the freedom to fight for dominance. With one roll of your tongue into his mouth, the side of your tongue was swiped by the point of his fang. It sent a chill down your spine but excited you even further. Feeling bold, you closed the space of your lips and bit down on his bottom lip, pulling away from him as you watched him with hooded eyes.

Letting your hands snake down his torso, you hooked your fingers into his belt loops pulling him closer to your clothed center. Gently rolling your hips, you were thankful that you wore a skirt as your aching cunt ghosted over his jean covered cock. Looking up at him, your eyes were blown and you could feel the sexual adrenaline raging through your body.

“I want you, Seonghwa. I want you to make me yours.”

Seonghwa looked down at you, a knowing smirk painting his mouth as he gingerly put his finger under your chin.

“Aww, how sweet. But darling, you were mine the moment I laid my eyes upon you, don’t you get that? I just needed that sweet invitation to fall from your pretty lips.”

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa’s hands found their way underneath the fabric of your shirt. His hands were like ice, but the contrasting temperature soothed the raging heat dancing across your skin. There was an uncontrollable need and you felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. Your body kept rolling into his and you couldn’t quell the small moan that escaped your throat.

“Excited, hmm?”

Your eyes were pleading, needing to feel something other than his hands roaming your body.

“Do something, please. I’m begging you.”

Seonghwa brought his face to the side of yours so that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. He was breathing slowly, almost methodically and it made your heartbeat race. When he spoke, your eyebrows furrowed at his lower tone.

“Just something?”

You mewled at him, tired of the teasing, but what he did next was not what you expected. One of his fangs made contact with the sensitive skin of your neck and you moaned out as the tip of it impaled your skin. Seonghwa pulled away, his tongue swiping at the tiny drop of crimson staining his tooth. His eyes darkened as he smirked at you and indulged in your metallic taste. You felt him roll his hips into yours, his cock growing harder as he imagined how it would feel to feed off of your naked body.

Growing impatient from the wanton ache that settled in your cunt, you pushed Seonghwa away from you and your body off of the desk. Making yourself as big as possible, you guided his body backward until his knees met the lip of the couch in the study. As his form gracefully plopped into the cushions, you tore your top off throwing it on the floor behind you. You straddled Seonghwa’s thighs, grinding your hips down into him as you made contact with his lap. You cupped his face as you let your body control your actions rather than your mind. Pulling him close, your lips danced a dangerous waltz of spit and tongue as he began to feel dizzy from the intensity.

Seonghwa was enjoying this obscene side of you, his nimble fingers gripping at your skin any chance he got. Pulling away from his lips, his mouth chased yours not ready for the kiss to end so soon. Placing your hands on his chest, you allowed yourself the time to admire his form. His perfectly sculpted body that was encased so delicately by the mesh he wore. You sucked your bottom lip behind your teeth as you gripped the fabric into your fist grinding down into his erection.

His hips rolled up into yours and his breathing quickened as he devoured you with his eyes.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“More than you know.” You panted out

Seonghwa patted your thigh and nodded his chin behind you.

“Up.”

You pushed yourself off of him, suddenly hyper-aware of your insecurities. They didn’t have long to manifest as his voice pulled you from your thoughts. He grabbed your hand leading you out of the study, down the hallway, and guided you into his bedroom.

“Never. Think such dreadful things about yourself, my dove.”

Seonghwa gently placed you down on the edge of his opulent bed, his bedroom far too extravagant for you to fully appreciate right now. Nodding his head behind you, you understood his cue to scoot back and your eyes never left him as he crawled over your body.

“It’s simply just, if I’m going to ravage you in the ways I’ve dreamt so vividly, it wasn’t going to happen on that vapid couch.”

He placed gentle kisses on your jawline, nipping slightly at the skin near your earlobe. Seonghwa then dragged his nose down the valley of your breasts and stopped at the hemline of your skirt. The heat and your arousal turn near suffocating under the constraints of your panties.

“You deserve to be tasted, worshipped. To be given a night of passion. And I, my sweet y/n, am going to give you all of that and more.”

His voice turned more gruff the more his sentence trailed on. What you failed to realize was that due to the angle he was at, your arousal was like his personal parfum and it was dreadfully intoxicating. He acted with no haste as he dragged your skirt down your legs, taking your underwear with it. You felt embarrassment quickly wash over your body as you felt the stick of your arousal stretch between your needy lips and the ruined cotton.

Now fully exposed to him, you had nowhere to hide and it excited you. He pressed his nose against your clit, the action sending a savage bolt of lust through your body. Your body shivered as he took a deep inhale of your scent, his tongue following soon behind with a flattened lick across your folds. The moan that left you was covetous and echoed off the walls of his bedroom.

Seonghwa lapped at your folds like a ravenous dog and your sounds only egged him on. Your hips were riding his face, unable to get enough of him. When your hand found refuge in his inky locks, he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations bringing you to the precipice of your orgasm. With one hand gripping at his hair and the other fisting the sheets, you were moaning like a rapacious whore.

“Hwa, fuck! Hwa I’m gonna cum!”

Seonghwa gripped his hands tighter around your hips, shoving your cunt as close as possible to his mouth. Seonghwa focused on your clit, fluttering his tongue against your sensitive bud before sucking your orgasm right out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!”

Seonghwa didn’t give you a chance to ride out your first orgasm, instead, he continued sucking on your tender rosebud and let the aftershock of your second climax wash over you. Your body shook in intervals of vibrating lust. Chillis littering your body as you relished in the feeling he just bestowed upon you. Lifting himself from between your legs, he hovered over you with a satisfied smirk plastered on his lips. Soon his lips were on yours again and the tangy taste of yourself swept across your tastebuds. Pulling away from you, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“You taste even better than what I dreamt of.”

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that he wanted you just as bad and your mouth moved quicker than your mind.

“Y-you’ve dreamt of me?”

An airy chuckle left his throat.

“Darling, if you question my likening for you one more time tonight, I’m going to have to chain you to my bed and fuck any trace of doubt out of you.”

Your hole squeezed around nothing and courage found itself in you again. Flipping your bodies over, you sat on top of his lap, your arousal spreading all over the top of his jeans. Undoing his belt, the sexual tension was fervid and it was as if you couldn’t move your hands fast enough. His cock was straining against the layers of fabric and you needed it straining against your walls.

Pulling his jeans down his legs with his underwear, you knelt down, prepared to offer up all your oral skills known to man. Before you could ghost your lips over his tip, Seonghwa’s hand found your chin and titled you to look up at him.

“There will be plenty of times for you to taste me, tonight though is about our collective ecstasy. To lose ourselves in one another.”

His hand pulled you closer to him and you straddled your legs over his. His leaky and libertine cock teasing your entrance as you hovered over him. His hair lay disheveled across his face all thanks to your hands and he somehow looked even more desirable than before. With puffy lips and heavy eyes, you needed him in every way imaginable.

Lowering yourself down onto his cock, you weren’t prepared for how big he’d feel as you took him in inch by inch. He thickened as you reached his base and made you feel so full. As you bottomed out on him, both of you moaned in harmonious synchrony that made you wish you could have it on repeat.

“Hwa~! You’re so—so big.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you squeezed his length inside of your velvety walls. You placed your hands on his shoulders needing something to ground yourself on. Seonghwa’s hands purchased themselves on your hips awaiting your movements.

“Call me that again.”

You rolled your hips, your walls fluttering as you looked down at him.

“Hwa~”

You let your forehead rest against his as your body began to ride his perfect cock. Your moans creating the quintessential licentious atmosphere.

“Hwa, baby…you feel so good.”

Your mind was racing, not really paying attention to the words that left your mouth. But you wished you did.

In seconds, the use of the pet name rendered you at his mercy. Only for a moment did his cock leave your seraphic cunt as your bodies were flipped once again. Seonghwa entered you with such a force that you could only describe as concupiscent and raw. Your nails immediately dug themselves into his back and the sounds that left him were more obscene.

“Oh, God!”

“God is nowhere in this room, nor will he ever be, Pet.”

His moans were tantalizing, hypnotizing you even more so under his spell. His thrusts were deep and calculated, abusing your G-spot with every hit. If God wasn’t in this room, all that Seonghwa was making you feel definitely felt like it. You’d never felt euphoria like this before, it was sinful in every sense of the word and made it feel like there truly was a reason for Him to have died for our sins. Feeling a pool of heat begin to settle near the bottom of your stomach, you wrapped your legs around his waist caging him to you.

“Y/nnn, I can’t hold myself back much longer.”

As your walls fluttered around him one more time you shook your head, your voice coming out with more air than you anticipated.

“Me n-neither.”

You kissed him again, impassioned and frenzied. Panting against his lips, your nails found solace in his back again. His breath was creating humidity in your neck and you enjoyed every second of it. Looking into his eyes, there was more swimming in them than just lust.

“I want all of you. I want to feel every part of you Hwa. I need you. I need you so bad, H~wa!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nails dug deep crescents into his skin. As you begged him for all he had to give he did just that as his mouth snuck its way to your neck and his fangs sunk into your skin.

The feeling of the puncture was just what you needed to peer over the horizon of your orgasm and crash into the sea of its entirety. Seonghwa was still pumping his hard cock into you and then you felt a familiar warmth flood your walls. Your body squirmed underneath him and slowly your vision began to blur. Before you had the chance to completely lose consciousness, you watched Seonghwa slice his tooth into his wrist and felt the crimson drain over your lips as he pressed his wrist to your mouth.

“Drink, my sweet dove.”

His voice was so sweet. Like a siren’s as you drifted into a slumber that was filled with nothing but pleasure.

~*~

When you awoke, you were still lay in his massive bed, but your body was covered in a black silk nightgown and you smelled faintly of sandalwood and frankincense. You turned your head to the left and then to the right only to find that the bed was empty.

Where did he go?

You pushed yourself up to sit in the bed only to be met with the worst headache in your life. It felt like your entire body was pounding in pain and the drumming of it only kept getting louder. Wincing, you heard the handle click open on the bedroom door, revealing Seonghwa with an assortment of food, water, and a glass of red liquid. Wine maybe?

“I could hear you worrying from across the house. Trust, I’ll never be far from you. Now—I know you’re probably in a decent amount of pain right now, but it’ll soon fade in the next few days. Your body can still take normal food just not in large quantities. Here.”

His voice trailed off as he tore a piece of the croissant laying on one of the few small plates on the tray. Holding it up, he raised his eyebrows encouraging you to open your mouth. Obliging, you gently took the piece of bread from him, chewing slowly as you tried to make sense of your reality.

“Did you…did you turn me?”

“Yes.”

You nodded.

“So that means, I’ll be like this forever? Like you?…With you?”

You saw something like fear flash in his eyes for a moment. Or maybe it was regret?

“Yes. And if you’d like to spend your days with me then it does seem that way my sweet dove. If you feel otherwise I will not hold you back. Although, I will admit I will have a hard time staying away from you.”

He smiled, almost jokingly in a way that softened your heart.

This must be who he is behind that mask

“Forever with you doesn’t sound so bad.”

You blinked up at him, a smile spreading across your own face.

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

taglist: @blackswann-53098 @tunaasan @bellamuerte1987 @seonghwasstar

#ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa fanfic #vampire seonghwa #ateez fanfic

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bruh-changbin · 1 year

Text

ivy league

pairing: uni boyfriend!hyunjin x afab reader

genre: fluff + smut (minors dni)

warnings: fingering (f receiving), public sex, lowkey exhibitionism, oral sex (m receiving), snowballing (tis’ the season), little bit of cum eating, unprotected sex (be safe), piv, creampie, tit sucking, both are kinda switches?, alcohol consumption

word count: 5.8K

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR MOFOS!!! my new years resolution is to find out why hyunjin is so fucking hard to write for 😻 maybe it’s bc his personality is kinda all over the place or maybe i just suck but anyways i hope i did him justice. (also for the sake of this fic pls pretend he still has long brown hair bc that was my fav look on him ever)i do apologize as this was supposed to be posted right after new years but i have been a busy busy gal as of late. nevertheless, i hope you enjoy (also apologies if this posts weird tumblr is being A MAJOR PAIN IN THE ASS AS I TRY TO EDIT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

photos not mine, credit to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)

studying away from home was always a dream of yours. there’s something so enticing about living and learning in a new city that piques your interest. when you got an acceptance letter from an ivy league school a few hours away from your hometown, you didn’t think twice before enrolling.

only then did you find out that 90% of the student body at ivy league schools - or any high status campus, really - are insufferable. there are wannabe jane austen’s and christopher nolan’s at every turn, griping about how getting a 98% on their most recent paper just isn’t good enough (news flash: it is).

ergo, every time you’ve tried to befriend someone you met in the student centre or library or in one of your lectures you’ve discovered they’re too obsessed with their status to even hold a proper conversation with you. there’s only one person who makes studying here at least somewhat bearable: hwang hyunjin.

you met hyunjin in september, a mere 2 days before classes were set to begin for the fall semester. it was somewhat unfortunate, your first encounter, seeing as it entailed you spilling your iced french vanilla all over hyunjin’s silky white button up top. you were trying to shove your wallet back into your bag as you left a coffee shop and he was enthralled in his phone, both of you too distracted to notice the other before colliding.

you both apologized profusely, you for being careless and him for being in the way (he wasn’t) until you insisted he came to your apartment to get cleaned up since it’s only a 3 minute walk away, i feel horrible for ruining your clothes.

he complied, and you led him to your small studio apartment, giving him some privacy to shower and steal whatever clothes in your closet that fit him.

when he stepped out of your bathroom, hair still damp and skin glowing, the rounds of i’m so sorry’s started up again as you handed him back his shirt, now with a large coffee stain on the chest that even your tide pen couldn’t tackle. he grabbed his shirt before chuckling, revealing that he too was a frequent customer of the cafe you were at and often opted to go there instead of indulging in the overpriced shit they sell on campus.

upon discovering that you were both students at the same university you got to talking, which led to hyunjin staying for dinner at your place, which led to an impromptu make-out session on your second-hand couch. when you made it known that you wanted to take things further, he initially declined because hey, i’m not that kind of guy. in the end he couldn’t keep his hands off of you and you were more than happy to lead him down the hallway to your bedroom.

soon after he had you writhing under your cotton bed sheets while making you cum on his tongue… and his fingers and his cock. his shaggy, shoulder length mocha hair felt like silk in between your fingers and the whines and whimpers he let out when you tugged on it sounded like heaven.

so, your first encounter with hyunjin was a catastrophe turned fuck session turned we should do this again sometime…

now it’s the heart of winter and you’re about to sock your boyfriend in the jaw when you see him leaning against the brick exterior of your lecture hall, the tips of his ears stained cherry red and his breath passing his lips in the form of a cloud.

“hyunjin i told you to stop waiting for me outside of my lecture hall’s, you’re seriously gonna get frostbite!” you emphasize by pinching his frozen ears - he winces.

“what happened to hello? how are you?” he complains before slipping his hand into the pocket of your puffer jacket and intertwining his fingers with yours; his hands are so cold you flinch.

“well sorry i don’t want you to get sick,” you roll your eyes while shoving your headphones into your tote bag, not needing them now that hyunjin has graced you with his presence, “and you know that class always puts me in a bad mood.”

“ahh yes that’s the one with the, what was it, douchey prof and even douchier students, right?”

“that’s the one.” you sniffle, nose going numb from the cold wind biting at your face as you let hyunjin drag you across campus to god knows where.

“well turn that frown upside down, i’m about to treat you to the most romantic study date ever,” hyunjin asserts while pulling you in the direction of the student lounge, careful not to walk too quickly so you don’t slip on the ice hidden underneath the blanket of snow on the ground.

although the trek from your lecture hall to the student common room is quite short, only subjecting you to the outside weather conditions for a mere minute or two, you rejoice when you step inside and regain shelter from the cold. a blast of hot air greets you and hyunjin shakes the snow off of his perfectly styled hair, retracting his hand from your jacket pocket.

the two of you make your way down the corridor before waltzing into the main study area of the student lounge, seating yourself on a worn in brown leather couch.

once your winter jacket is discarded you pull your textbook out of your bag, using your peripherals to watch hyunjin pull out his laptop and begin editing photos for his photography class.

it’s serene; watching the snow fall through the window to your left, feeling the warmth radiating from hyunjin who’s sitting to your right. the feeling of hyunjin’s hand (which is still quite cold) on your knee comforts you and you immerse yourself in the words of your textbook, wanting to catch up on the chapters you were supposed to read for this week but didn’t have the time or patience to.

alas, you should’ve known that hyunjin had… other intentions when he said he was taking you on the most romantic study date ever. it only takes a few minutes before you feel his hand inching its way up your leg.

his eager fingers dance across your thigh before groping your pelvis, causing you to clamp your legs shut in surprise, trapping your boyfriend’s hand in between them.

“are you fucking kidding me hyunjin? we’re in public…”

hyunjin scans the vicinity of the student lounge, which, admittedly, there are only two other students present, both so absorbed in their respective textbooks that they’re practically drooling. but that doesn’t mean you’re about to let him finger bang you in a public area in front of your fellow students.

“what, you don’t wanna show everyone how well you take my fingers?” by now his index and middle fingers are playing with the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to give the go ahead before dipping underneath.

“come on, let me play with you.”

try as you may, you can’t resist the twisting of your stomach and the pitter-patter of your heart at hyunjin’s words. by now your pussy is leaking indefinitely and you shift in your spot in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the dull throbbing you feel in your pelvis.

the more you squirm the more pressure you feel from hyunjin’s hand trapped in between your thighs, the heel of his palm pushing against your cunt that’s becoming more sensitive by the second.

a pleasure induced haze clouds your brain and soon enough you’ve convinced yourself that hyunjin fingering you in the student lounge is in fact a good idea. it’s not like anyone can see you, right? you’re sandwiched between the wall and hyunjin, who’s broad shoulders block you from the curious gaze of others - no one would be the wiser.

with a bashful look on your face you ease your legs open, granting hyunjin access to your sticky panties and aching clit. the dexterity in which hyunjin’s hand pushes past your waistband and into the dripping folds of your cunt almost gives you whiplash.

like the little bitch he is he teases you for several moments, the tip of his index finger drawing lazy circles around your clit before gliding down to your hole and then back up again, never giving you what you actually want.

you know hyunjin’s enjoying watching you twitch and shift in your seat as he plays with your cunt; even more so does he enjoy watching you bite back a frustrated whine when he pulls his hand from you entirely, takes a second to coat his digits in his own saliva by sucking on them, and shove his hand back down your pants.

with help from hyunjin’s makeshift lube his slender spit-covered fingers slip inside of you with little resistance, causing your stomach to flutter and churn. the stretch is subtle yet pleasurable and your body automatically folds in on itself: head hung low, knees knocking together, back hunched.

if anyone were to walk by they would hopefully assume that you’re just worn out from the end of semester stress and not clue in on the fact that your boyfriend is knuckle deep in your pussy.

hyunjin starts with small movements, his finger gliding in and out of you slowly while curling upwards in a ‘come-hither’ type motion. he’s trying to make his movements as undetectable as possible, struggling against your tight cunt that sucks him in with each and every thrust of his fingers.

lucky for you your lover was blessed with long fingers, ones that reach so deep inside of you with so little effort that it makes the room spin. little shocks rock your body when hyunjin fully sheathes his index and middle fingers inside of you, the cold metal of the rings adorning his fingers a stark contrast to your hot wet pussy.

the pace of hyunjin’s fingers quickens; your bottom lip stings from how hard you’re biting down on it. your breath leaves you in the form of forced exhales through your nose, the urge to say fuck it and moan aloud for all of your peers to hear becoming almost irresistible and you pray that hyunjin’s going to make you finish before you do something you’ll regret.

hyunjin pushes his fingers impossibly deeper into you, the heel of his palm now providing the most delicious friction on your neglected clit. you resist the urge to grind your hips against his hand.

“are you close?” hyunjin whispers, his plush lips caressing the shell of your ear and sending shivers down your spine. how long has his face been that close to yours? you think, but you’re too out of it to turn your thoughts into words. you just nod frantically, eyes rolling backwards as your impending orgasm looms closer and closer.

the sensation of hyunjin’s fingers pistoning in and of you and his palm bumping your clit is enough to quickly send you over the edge, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you can taste the metallic tang of blood against your tongue.

you cream all over his fingers while sucking in a breath so big it hurts your lungs so as to prevent yourself from making any noise. the grip you have on hyunjins wrist goes limp and you wince as he pulls his fingers from you, placing a chaste kiss on your temple as if to say i’m proud of you.

with that hyunjin casually sucks your wetness from his fingers, briefly wiping them on his pants before returning to editing his photos on his laptop. you struggle to regain your focus on the textbook splayed out in front of you, the pages swimming before your eyes as the pleasure in the pit of your stomach slowly subsides.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“i still don’t understand why you were so adamant about using my kitchen to bake instead of yours.”

hyunjin glances up from his phone at your words, his pupils so dark they remind you of tapioca pearls.

“i live with three frat guys, my kitchen is a biohazard.”

ah yes, that’s right. hyunjin’s roommates, although very nice guys who treat you with respect, are frat guys nonetheless. chan is the cleanest of them all, although that's mostly due to him eating out the majority of the time. changbin and jisung however…

you raise your hands in defence, shuddering at the thought of the army of glasses filled with stale protein shakes that greeted you the last time you ventured into hyunjin’s apartment.

upon seeing you wash your hands in preparation for baking hyunjin joins you behind the kitchen counter. his ring-clad fingers roll up the sleeves of his white long sleeve top before tucking the stray hairs in front of his face behind his ears.

“alright, what are we baking?” he says with his game-face on.

“i was thinking we could do gingerbread… you know, since it’s the holidays.” you begin to search for a recipe on your phone.

hyunjin makes a sour face at this: lips puckered, brows furrowed, eyelids lowered. dramatic. “i don’t like gingerbread,” he states.

“oh? why not?”

“it’s too spicy.”

this motherfucker…

“...spicy? what are you, twelve?”

“i have a sensitive palate!” your boyfriend whines like a toddler.

“shut the fuck up hwang, we’re making gingerbread.”

hyunjin hangs his head in defeat while you trifle through your cupboards for the proper ingredients. soon enough a small pile is formed on your countertop and you begin sorting everything in order to start baking. a slender hand caresses your lower back and you jump slightly.

“you know it kinda turns me on when you’re all authoritative like that…”

of course. leave it to hyunjin to get horny at literally any hour of the day.

“you’re insufferable. does hyunjin jr. ever take a day off?”

hyunjin scoffs, “he does, actually. remember the day you were so swamped with the paper you were writing and me, being the best boyfriend ever, had the decency to not try to get in your pants so you could focus?”

“wow, so chivalrous.”

hyunjin playfully shoves your head and then pats your hair as if to assure you his teasing is all in good fun (you know it is).

for someone who was so adamant about baking for the holidays, hyunjin is incredibly inept in the kitchen. first he adds baking powder to the mixing bowl instead of baking soda, then proceeds to knock over your precious bottle of pure vanilla extract, followed by him getting molasses on his tongue and wailing in disgust because it tastes like straight ass! this is all tied together by him spilling flour all over your countertops because why the fuck not.

“remind me to never allow you to have access to my kitchen ever again,” you huff in frustration while rolling out your batter, a thin layer of sweat forming on your upper lip.

“why? I’m having fun… are you not having fun?” a cheeky grin is plastered across his face as he places his hand on the flour-covered counter before smacking your ass so hard you shriek. whipping your head around, you gape at the perfect flour handprint imprinted on the seat of your favourite pair of pants.

“WHAT THE FUCK HYUNJIN!!???” you shove his chest before frantically dusting the flour off of your rear. hyunjin can’t seem to control his laughter.

“payback!” he says cheerily while wiping his hands on the hem of his shirt. by now the smell and taste of flour has filled the air of your kitchen.

“payback for what you dipshit??”

he smiles, “for when you spilled coffee on my shirt.”

“are you fucking kidding me hwang? that was like four months ago!” you return to kneading the dough in front of you, although now you do so with much more aggression, “need i remind you that the coffee incident is how we met in the first place?”

“i knowww~” his palm glides across your upper back in a soothing motion before he rests his chin your your shoulder, “i’m just teasing.”

you bite back a smile before glancing at hyunjin perched on your shoulder, his squishy cheeks matching the soft gaze of his eyes. domestic bliss. you continue to knead the dough in front of you until it’s ready to be rolled out.

when you turn to look at hyunjin again he’s leaning into you even more, pink lips puckered slightly and eyelids closed causing his lashes to grace the tops of his cheeks.

you throw flour in his face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s new years eve and you don’t know what to wear.

“just throw on something skimpy and call it a day,” jeongin says through the speaker of your phone, “you’re supposed to be here in like an hour, remember?”

“i can get ready in an hour,” you respond while holding various garments up to your body and gazing at your reflection in the mirror. so many options, so little time.

“i don’t know about that y/n, remember halloween?”

you do remember halloween. more specifically, you remember jeongin whining and bitching for the entirety of the two and a half hours it took for you to transform yourself into ty lee from avatar: the last airbender. it was worth it though, you looked exactly like her.

“come on, that was a one time thing. i’ll be at your place on time!” you whine while tossing an unworthy crop top onto the pile of clothes on your floor that’s steadily increasing.

“i don’t know y/n you’re pretty indecisive and-” you hang up on him, not wanting to hear him bitch and whine about your inability to make even the most minuscule decisions.

it takes you half an hour to choose the perfect outfit, and then another half hour to do your makeup and hair, followed by a fifteen minute stare-down with your reflection in the mirror as you question everything. is this really the best look i can come up with? your head hurts and you haven’t even started drinking yet.

“y/n~” hyunjin whines from his place in the living room, “are you almost ready?”

you give him a half-assed yea before exiting your bedroom, giving yourself and your outfit one final check in the mirror.

in preparation for tonight’s celebration you helped hyunjin bleach and dye his hair a shade of icy blue last night, almost permanently damaging his bathroom sink and counter in the process. his now cerulean mane matches the blue of his denim jacket that has an eye-catching collar lined with fluffy white fur (faux of course - no animal cruelty here). his pants are denim as well, a quintessential canadian tuxedo, and just a hint of silver glitter is detectable on his eyelids. you could eat him right the fuck up.

“you look cute,” you purr before waltzing over to your boyfriend and standing in front of where he’s sat on the couch.

“as do you,” his eyes scan your body, “the five hours it took you to get ready paid off.”

“i did not take five hours to get ready hwang, you’re just impatient.” you pat his leg as if to say get off your ass, it’s time to go, prompting him to push himself off of his couch and over to the coat rack by his front door.

“this coat totally clashes with my outfit,” you complain as you pull on your thick puffer jacket.

hyunjin feigns sympathy, “it’s either that or you freeze. come on, chan’s wondering why we’re not there yet.”

hyunjin all but yanks you out the door, locking it behind him before the two of you step onto the bustling city streets that are teeming with people searching for a place to drink and celebrate.

arriving at jeongin’s a mere couple of hours before midnight, you rid yourself of your chunky winter coat and start to mingle with the rest of the crowd. hyunjin, despite knowing more people at the party than you, stands behind you like a lost baby sheep for the entire night, waiting for you to loop him into whatever conversation you’re having.

you briefly speak with jeongin, who teases you for arriving late (how he managed to spot you and hyunjin sneaking in later than you said you would arrive is beyond you) and then encourages you to get a drink and ‘let loose’.

in the kitchen you help yourself to whatever alcohol you can find - most of the selection isn’t to your liking and you regret not bringing your own drinks from home. nevertheless, you force some pathetic margarita mix down your throat before spotting hyunjin’s roommates, chan, changbin and jisung, in the crowd and heading over to converse with them.

time seems to fly by and soon enough there are only a few minutes left until it’s time to ring in the new year. someone, most likely felix, blasts madonna through the speakers and a livestream of the new york ball drop is displayed on the tv in the living room.

“y/n?”

“yes hyunjin?”

he hesitates, starry eyes looking everywhere but your own, “will you be my new year’s kiss?”

you stifle a laugh; the poor boy looks like he’s about to puke after asking you that so you try your best to play nice.

“of course i will.” you caress your boyfriend's cheek ever so gently, his cheeks turning rosy and flushed as you do so.

around you the cheers from the other partygoers have increased as the countdown displayed on the tv hits the thirty second mark. as the ball descends on the screen your fingers reach for hyunjin, grasping his wrist in excitement as the two of you start to countdown alongside everyone else.

“3….2….1….HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!”

as soon as the clock strikes midnight hyunjin’s pillowy pink lips are attached to yours, capturing you in a heartfelt kiss to celebrate the ending of an old year and beginning of a new one. it would be a crime not to reciprocate so you do, only pulling away when you hear jeongin start to make gagging noises at the two of you over everyone else's cheers.

felix jumps onto the couch and changbin uncorks a bottle of pommery cuvée louise with a celebratory pop!

before you can approach changbin and ask for a glass of champagne that he splurged on for the special occasion, you’re being dragged down the hallway. away from the music and cheering and people and into a dark, empty bedroom; based on the decor you assume it’s felix’s.

the metallic click of a door being shut and locked echoes throughout the empty room and when you turn to face hyunjin pursues you again. away from the curious gazes of bystanders he kisses you with unrestrained passion and lust - a kiss that isn’t just a simple display of affection but a kiss that says i want this to lead to something more.

in the confines of this empty bedroom you allow yourself to melt into his lips, his touch. you inhale his scent and push your tongue past his teeth and into his mouth, tasting a hint of the miller lite he was sipping on earlier on his tongue. with ease hyunjin makes his way down your jaw and to your neck, placing affectionate open mouth kisses against the sensitive skin of your throat. occasionally you feel his canines nip you before his tongue glides over your skin.

“i’ve been wanting to be alone with you since we left the apartment,” hyunjin admits sheepishly, the ends of his hair tickling your ear.

“is that why you spent the entire night hiding behind me?”

like a deer in headlights, hyunjin freezes, “maybe…” you can feel his lips curl into a small smile from where they’re attached to your neck.

not wanting to waste any more time you shove hyunjin off of you, your hands grasping the collar of his denim jacket before dragging it down his shoulders and arms, followed by his shirt. hyunjin follows suit and moves to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down his thick thighs. now he stands in front of you wearing only his briefs, his hard cock straining against the material, the glow from the moon painting his skin a cool shade of blue.

when you step closer to him you can feel his breath fan across your face, watch his eyes swim with curiosity and enamourment, see his chest rise and fall with each and every shaky breath. your fingertips hook into the elastic waistband of his briefs, yanking them down and letting them pool at his ankles before gently guiding him to sit on the bed behind him.

now that hyunjin’s seated you move to kneel in front of him, kissing your way down the soft milky skin of his abs and around his belly button and the insides of his thighs. his cock stands fully erect, and you lick your lips before getting yourself ready to suck him off.

when you first fucked hyunjin all those months ago you were taken aback at how perfect his cock was. not to sound cliche, but it felt as if the two of you were destined to be together with how well he fit inside of your cunt and down your throat. now, you admire him once again before licking him from base to tip.

time is of the essence you think before taking his length in your hot mouth.

over the course of time you’ve spent dating and fucking hyunjin you’ve discovered that he’s very sensitive… and very vocal. as soon as his cock is in your mouth he’s struggling to keep quiet, the veins on his neck tensing and his knuckles white as he grips the bedsheets underneath him. it’s not like anyone would hear him lest they be pressed up right against the bedroom door, but still, he tries his best to preserve at least a little bit of his dignity.

for the sake of your throat you wrap your hand around the base of hyunjin’s dick, opting to jerk what you can’t comfortably fit in your mouth. the soft muscle of your tongue expertly wraps around his length as you begin to bob your head, starting off slow so you don’t overwhelm hyunjin (who already seems to be going into sensory overload).

the movements of your hand are in tandem with those of your mouth, the nails that you got done for new years looking so perfect wrapped around his sensitive cock. small beads of sweat begin to form on your temple as you continue to work hyunjin to his release, not wanting to stop until he’s satisfied. your knees are already starting to ache from being pressed against the cold, hard floor but you pay the discomfort no mind.

above you, hyunjin’s struggling to keep himself under control. he’s been on edge all evening, and now that you’re having your way with him he can’t quite contain his delectation. surely there are other people fucking at this party right now, right? what does it matter if he makes a bit of noise?

fuck dignity, he wants to let you know how good you’re making him feel.

hyunjin’s bottom lip throbs in relief when he releases it from his teeth, allowing his head to fall back while groans of pleasure shamelessly tumble from his mouth.

your ears strain to block out the noises from the ongoing party so you can hyperfocus on every single sound that passes hyunjin’s lips. your lips wrap around his length like a glove, providing him with the most perfect amount of friction. you pick up the pace in order to get him there faster, ignoring the slight cramping in your wrist.

“y/n i-” one of his hands lets go of the duvet and wraps around the back of your head, “i think i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off with a cry of desperation.

with reluctance you pull your lips off of his cock, continuing to jerk him with your mouth agape and tongue sticking out. with a needy, high-pitched moan that he does nothing to try to suppress, hyunjin pumps his load into your waiting mouth.

his cum is pure and white like the snow falling softly outside of the bedroom window. it sits hot and heavy on your tongue as you rise from your spot on the floor, watching with hungry eyes as hyunjin’s pink-stained chest heaves sighs of pleasure before you press your lips to his. both of your mouths open automatically, his tongue slipping past your teeth allowing him to taste himself. your tongues swap semen and saliva and you reluctantly pull away when you need to swallow and regain your breath.

the view of hyunjin panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, his own cum seeping from the corners of his mouth, is a sight to behold. you’ve never laid eyes on anything so sinful yet so holy and beautiful at the same time - your panties become unbearably wet.

hyunjin stares at you with eagle eyes as you rid yourself of your clothing, tossing each garment on top of his so a small pile is formed on the floor.

in one swift move you’re on top of him, knees digging into the firm mattress on either side of his bony hips. without saying a word you line his cock, that’s already semi-hard again, up with the soaked hole of your pussy before sinking down his shaft. the two of you whine and groan into eachothers mouths at the sensation, and you still when your hips are flush with his.

“i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna last long,” hyunjin whines so pathetically you go weak in the knees. ugh! you wanna lick him all over.

“that’s okay,” you coo while running your fingers through his hair, “just want you to feel good.”

grasping his shoulders for stability, you temptingly grind your pelvis against his. the tip of his cock is nestled deep inside of you that it makes you feel so unbelievably full and content. it’s moments like these where you wish to be consumed by hyunjin, wish to hold him and be in his hold forever and ever.

the slick, wet sounds of you fucking hyunjin raw fill the room, your cunt sucking him deeper and deeper with each and every roll of your hips. your vision goes blurry when he attaches his soft lips to your breast, switching between sucking on it gently and using his tongue to tease your sensitive nipple.

the soft whimpers and please go faster’s that your boyfriend emits encourage you to pick up the pace, your hip bones knocking against his with each gyration. by now your clit is begging for attention so you lower your hand to press quick, somewhat careless circles into it, hissing at the pleasure it provides.

the need to cum begins to creep its way into your senses: your vision becomes spotted and blurry, your legs begin to quiver and shake, the pit in your lower abdomen grows bigger and bigger threatening to swallow you whole. hyunjin continues to sloppily suck on your tit, the sensation going straight to your aching cunt.

no words need to be exchanged in order for each of you to know that the other is close. it’s evident in the way your movements become more frantic desperate and in the way hyunjin’s blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, his jaw going slack against your breast.

a few more movements and you reach your orgasm, muffling a lewd and graphic moan by biting down on hyunjin’s shoulder. for several moments it feels as if you’re on cloud nine. sparks fly behind your closed eyelids and the ringing in your eyes is loud enough to block out the sound of the party (which you almost forgot about) but not the increasingly loud moans coming from hyunjin. you can hear and feel him cumming a few seconds after you, his stomach tensing as he cries out for you.

he spills his seed inside of you and you shudder, feeling incredibly warm and worn out.

with limbs feeling like lead, you lift yourself off of hyunjin before collapsing onto the mattress, the duvet cover immediately clinging to your back that’s damp with sweat. you feel hyunjin’s cum slowly begin to seep out of you and you cringe, knowing that you’re going to have to explain and apologize to felix (or whoever the owner of this room is).

beside you, hyunjin works to get his breathing back under control, his eyes closed with a blissed-out expression on his face.

“i don’t wanna get up,” he whispers into the dark room.

“so don’t.”

the two of you lie there, basking in the post-orgasm bliss that puts you on the verge of sleep. the room smells of sex and sweat and you can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto your face, knowing that there’s no other way you’d rather spend ringing in the new year.

you hear him moving before you feel his touch. the soft tips of his fingers caress your clammy palms before intertwining with yours, an affectionate move that has your cheeks flushing and makes you wonder how did i get so god damn lucky?

if it weren’t for hyunjin your ivy league studies would be filled with empty days and empty nights. you somehow managed to find solace in a sensitive, 5’10” boy who teases you and then whines when you tease him back. on days where the cold seems to be unbearable he keeps you warm with his skin on your skin, his lips on your lips, his heart to your heart.

without him you’d be stuck at a prestigious school filled with prestigious people pursuing a prestigious degree that you’re not sure you even like, yet he somehow makes you forget all of that.

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids blurbs #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin facfiction #hwang hyunjin blurbs

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 1)

Word count: 9.8k+

Pairings: Sam Kiszka, Jake Kiszka, Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, angst, fluff.

A/N: This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

September 2013

You fidget nervously at your desk, waiting to hear who your assigned partner would be for the History project. School only started a few weeks ago, and you had hardly made friends with anyone in your classes yet. There were a few familiar faces that came with you from middle school, but no one that you really considered to be a friend.

High school was different. Everything was much more fast paced, people were louder, and meaner. You spent the last few weeks acclimating to the change of environment and learning your schedule, which brings you to third period History class.

As you listen to your teacher read off the names of the assigned partners you hold your breath as she reaches your name.

“Your partner for the semester is Samuel Kiszka.”

Sam?

He looks over at you and gives you a soft grin. You can barely see his eyes behind his swooping brown hair. You can see the outline of his braces under his lips as he gives you a soft wave in acknowledgement of his assignment. You smile back and nod your head.

You wouldn’t say that you and Sam are friends, but you have known him for a long time. Your parents are best friends with his parents and they have been since highschool. There have been many times that the Kiszka’s would spend New Years Eve at your house, or you at theirs. Fourth of July was always spent at the Kiszka’s and even sometimes Thanksgiving. You grew up around the guys, but you never really saw them outside of the holidays.

When the teacher called out Sam’s name, it was almost a relief. Now you wouldn’t have to spend the entire semester getting to know someone you didn’t choose yourself. You already knew Sam, just superficially.

As the bell for the end of class rang, you collected up your books and zipped them into your backpack. As you stood up, Sam approached your desk, “Hey partner!” he smiled.

Looking up at him nervously, you replied “Hey Sam!”

“I’m kind of glad we are partners,” he said, “I don’t really know anyone else yet.”

“I thought the same thing!” you say, reaching in your bag and pulling out a piece of scrap paper. You quickly scribble your number onto the strip and cap your pen. “Here is my number, so that we can start to plan. Seems like it's going to be a huge project.”

He smiles, and accepts the paper from your fingers. “Cool. I’ll text you later about it. Be thinking of ideas.” he says, nodding his head and walking off.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

Thinking of topics for the project proved challenging. You were tasked with explaining the history of a modern day object. It could be anything. You spent a lot of the day thinking of things that were interesting and had a cool history behind them.

As you sat down at a table for lunch that day you began to unpack the lunch your mom made for you. One or two girls from your previous class sat around you and you talked mindlessly about the pep rally coming up and the football game on Friday. As you zoned out, you noticed Sam. He was sitting at a table with one of his friends who you knew as Danny. They were typical teenage boys, cutting up and cracking jokes. His eyes caught yours and he flashed you a smile, before quickly turning his attention back to Danny. Throughout the rest of the lunch you caught each other's eyes a few more times, but just small glances. He had kind eyes and you could tell he was a good person. Maybe you would get to know him better through this project.

–

That night as you are studying your Economics book to prepare for the test tomorrow, your phone vibrates on your desk.

Unknown: Hey it’s Sam

Oh, that was quick. I half expected him to lose the paper.

You: Hey Sam!

You quickly add his number to your contacts just as he replies.

Sam: Do you have any ideas for the project?

You: Yeah I do! I was thinking maybe we could do something music related since you are all into that now.

Sam: I’d love that, but are you sure?

You: Yeah, it will be fun and easy. Maybe we can do the evolution of the guitar or something?

Sam: That would be awesome. I always knew you were cool.

You: Lol, thanks…

Sam: Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and we can start on it?

You: You don’t have something better to do on a Friday night?

Sam: Nah, just mess around and play music in the garage like usual. Plus if we get this done we don't have to worry about it the rest of the semester.

You: Good point.

Sam: My brother can drive us to my house if your mom will pick you up later?

You: Sounds good!

–

Much of the next day at school is spent researching between classes and checking out library books about guitars, something you know nothing about. By the time the final bell rang you had consumed so much information about guitars that you felt like you could probably play one if you picked it up. As you walked to the Senior parking lot you heard Sam call your name from behind. You turn around to face him and he runs up to you.

“Hey!” he says, out of breath.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” you ask, clutching the stack of library books in your arms..

“Yeah, I think Jake's car is in the back. We are always late in the morning.” he says annoyed.

You shrug your shoulders and smile. His eyes flick down to the books in your arms, “I’ll carry those.” he says, reaching for the stack.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” you reply nervously. You’ve never had anyone offer to carry your books, and you can feel yourself blushing.

“No, no, I insist.” he says, grabbing the hefty stack from your hands.

“Thanks.” you say with a soft smile and he gives you a side smile back.

He starts to walk to the back of the parking lot and once you arrive at the car you see Jake leaning against the car, waiting, and clearly very annoyed. He looks a lot different than you remember him. His hair has grown out and his clothing style has changed.

He cuts his eyes at Sam, “You’re late….” his eyes look down to the books in Sam’s arms. “Carrying her books, a nice touch brother.”

“Shut up Jake.” Sam quips back.

Jake's eyes flash to you, widening slightly as he looks at you. His mouth starts to move as if he is going to say something, but he stops himself and purses his lips together, giving you one last glance as he turns on his heels to get into the car.

You swallow nervously at the awkward exchange, and get into the backseat of the messy sedan. Sam throws his stuff into the back seat next to you and shuts the door, opting for the front seat.

The drive to their house is short and you’re thankful. Something about Jake’s presence is making you uneasy. You have a swirling feeling in your stomach and a dry mouth. This is only further accentuated by his glances through the rear view mirror. He is studying you, but why?

You quickly look away, embarrassed that he caught you looking back. A small smirk crosses his lips. Sam looks at him with a puzzled look before looking away and turning the radio up.

A few minutes later you are pulling into the driveway of their house. A house you have visited many times before, but never without the buffer of your parents. You get out and shut the door, watching Sam and Jake gather their things before joining you on the front porch. Jake unlocks the door and you all pile inside. He looks at Sam and then to you. His eyes linger for just a moment, before he heads upstairs and the bedroom door closes.

“Has he always been this weird and I never noticed?” you jokingly ask Sam.

He gives you a strange look and shakes his head, “I don’t know what his deal is. Sorry about that.”

“Oh I don’t mind, all good.” you say dismissively. But you do mind, and you will be thinking about that look in the car, for the foreseeable future.

You and Sam spend the next several hours spread out on his living room floor, laying out books, papers, articles and notebooks with research and information, trying to create a timeline. You have created a solid outline for the paper portion of the project, but will have to put in more work on the actual poster board set up and model, as well as actually writing the paper. As you finish outlining the final section of the paper, you hear Jake coming down the stairs and you both turn your heads to look at him.

Your blood runs cold when you realize he is shirtless. It feels almost wrong to see him like this. You turn away quickly focusing back on the books in front of you. When he makes his way into the kitchen you release a sigh of relief that you hope Sam didn’t notice. As you continue to work, the image of his bare chest flashes through your brain. You push him away and refocus.

A few minutes later he walks into the living room and positions himself on the couch watching the two of you with a smug look as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

“What do you want? Go away.” Sam says aggressively.

“Mom said they will be home late and that I need to ‘supervise’ you.” Jake replies smugly with air quotes.

“Supervise? Supervise what?” Sam asks, practically yelling.

Just as Jake went to answer, the front door flew open. Josh waltzes into the living room loudly announcing his arrival.

“Honey, I’m hooooome!” he exclaims.

He sees you on the floor next to Sam with Jake on the couch, and raises an eyebrow as he hangs his coat on the little metal hook by the door.

He looks over to you with a smile, “Hey! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in forever! How are you liking highschool?” he asks. He has always been the more talkative one of the twins. He always made a point to have a conversation with you at every gathering, Jake not so much.

“Hey Josh! We are partners for History class this semester. We are working on our project. And… highschool is highschool. Nothing to report just yet.” you reply with a laugh.

“Well give it time, good to see you!” he says, bounding up the stairs.

You look over to Sam who shrugs his shoulders and you can't help but feel Jake's eyes burning into the side of your head.

“Do you mind if I get a glass of water?” you ask Sam.

“No go ahead.” he says, continuing to write the thought he was having, down onto the paper.

You stand and make your way into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that you know you’ll find the glasses in, and walking over to the fridge.

You open the door to grab the pitcher and pour the cold water into the glass. As you shut the door you are shocked to find Jake standing a few feet away leaning against the counter.

Your eyes widen as they connect with him. Your eyes travel the length of his body up and down, taking in the changes that have happened since the last time you saw him. Suddenly you are seeing him in a whole new way. The glow of the fluorescent lights casting a soft shadow on the dips and curves of his abs. His shaggy brown hair hangs in his eyes as he crosses his feet. He is…attractive. Not something you would have ever thought you would think about a Kiszka boy. Having practically grown up together you thought you would always just see them as brothers. That is apparently not the case.

You realize that you are staring and quickly look away, only to hear him chuckling under his breath. You take a drink out of your glass and nervously walk over to the sink. Your heart is beating fast at your sudden realization of how your body is reacting to his presence.

He walks over and leans his upper body onto the counter next to you. “Why’re you breathing so heavy?” he asks with a smug grin.

“Drank too fast.” you reply, looking up at him.

“Hmm.” he says, pushing off the counter and walking back into the living room.

You set your glass in the sink and just stare at it for a second.

Oh god, he totally knows.

Returning to the living room, you rejoin Sam on the floor and continue to work. About an hour later the doorbell rings.

“Oh yeah, Mom ordered pizza.” Jake says, getting up to answer the door. He collects the boxes and tips the driver before walking to the kitchen.

“You hungry?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I could eat.” you reply with a smile.

He smiles back and extends his hand to help you off of the floor. You make your way into the kitchen and stand around the island as Jake takes plates out of the cabinet.

“Hey can you go tell Josh there's food?” Jake asks Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes and trudges up the stairs. You swallow thickly, realizing you are yet again left alone with Jake. He opens the box and looks up at you.

You immediately look down at your hands and again you hear him laugh.

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask in an annoyed tone.

“Doing what?” he replies.

“Waiting for me to look at you and then laughing when I look away.” you respond.

He gives you a side smile, “Because…you get all nervous and blush. It’s cute. I think you have a crush on me.”

“No I don’t!” you reply with a bright red face.

“It’s okay if you do. I wouldn’t be mad.” he replies, handing you an empty plate with a smug look.

Before you can say anything, Sam and Josh bound into the kitchen and are so loud that it breaks the tension between you and Jake.

Thank god.

As Josh and Sam begin to tear into the boxes, Jake raises his voice, “Hey!” and everyone stops and stares at him. Returning his voice to a normal tone he continues, “Ladies first guys, come on.”

If your face were any more red you would turn into a tomato. You quickly walk over and grab 2 slices, and find a seat at the table. You sit just staring at your plate trying to process everything that just happened.

How does he know I think he’s cute?

Why didn’t I deny it again? Now he probably thinks it’s true!

The rest of the guys join around the table and begin their conversations. Jake is sitting across from you and you have done remarkably well not looking at him one time. You can tell he notices too.

As Josh asks about your History project, Sam starts to explain your selected topic. As you listen in on all of the research he is talking about you feel something slide across your foot, and you instantly know what it is. You face flames red again and you see a small, hardly noticeable smile cross Jake's lips.

You pull your leg back so that the contact is lost. Josh asks you what you know about guitars and you tell him that you know absolutely nothing about them. You have never even held one. You grab your glass of water taking a sip as Josh responds.

“You know, Jake could probably teach you a few things if you were interested.” he says, and you nearly choke. The water has slipped past your throat in just the wrong way.

You feel his foot slide across the side of your ankle, and you try to gain your composure.

“Yeah, you just call me if you’re interested.” he says with a side smile.

You know his words mean something different than what Josh intended and your heart starts to beat quickly as his eyes stare into yours.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you feel his foot twisting with yours trying to get your attention but you do your best to ignore him. What does he want from me anyways?

You all finish up and pile your plates in the sink and you and Sam return back to the living room to keep working. Josh and Jake are in the kitchen cleaning up as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Sam yells out, and he walks to the door, opening it to reveal Danny.

You knew Sam and Danny were best friends, they had been since school started a few weeks ago. They were always together.

“Crap, I forgot to text you. I’m trying to get this History project done so we don’t have to worry about it.” he says, letting Danny in the door.

“Hi Danny.” You say standing up to greet him. He returns the hello and turns back to Sam, “I can go. No big deal.”

Sam looks conflicted, and turns to you, “Do you think we have done enough for today?” he asks. You can tell he doesn’t want Danny to leave.

“Yeah, I think we have a really good head start. I just need to text my mom to come get me, and I’ll be out of your hair.” you say pulling your phone from your pocket.

“Well, we are just gonna play some music in the garage, you can stay if you want to?” he says.

“Oh, it’s Friday night, I don’t want to intrude on your plans…” you say.

Jake comes into the living room from around the corner, “Think of it like research for your project. Need to see one in action if you’re gonna try and write about it, right?” he says with a smirk.

Smooth…

You look at Sam who is shrugging and nodding his head in agreement.

You bite your lips inward and turn back to Jake, “Okay, just for a little bit. I do want to see you play – I mean, I want to see all of you play – I didn’t mea–” you stammer, stumbling over your words. You actually aren’t sure what you meant, but you think it was probably close to the first thing.

“Cool…” he replies with a smug grin.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder and lets it slide across the top of your back as he makes his way upstairs. You shove your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath.

“You can follow us out the garage, but grab your jacket, there’s no heat.” he says, waving his hand to follow after him.

You follow him and Danny out the side door and into the stand alone garage at the end of the gravel path. He turns on the fluorescent lights that start to buzz as they warm up. You see a drum kit, a bass and an electric guitar all hooked up to amps and you turn to look at Sam, “When did all this happen? This wasn’t here last time I was here!” you ask, surprised.

“We kinda got serious about it over the summer. We are gonna try and make a go of it I think. We have some songs worked up, and Danny is our new drummer.” he answers. You sit down on the old faded red couch and cross your legs. A few minutes later the door opens and Jake and Josh come in to join you. Josh sits next to you on the couch as Jake throws the guitar strap over his shoulder. He has on a hoodie now, but that doesn't stop you from picturing how he looked in the kitchen earlier. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking a smile flashed across his lips as he turned on the amp. Hearing his guitar roar to life you feel a spark travel through you. He is so concentrated and the way his hands are moving across the strings is bringing back that swirling feeling from earlier. He is in his element, and he wanted you to see it.

For the next hour they played to an audience of just you, Josh eventually getting up to join them for a few covers. You didn’t even know Josh could sing. You’re actually glad you stayed. They sound good, better than you expected, and it's nice to actually be doing something other than homework on a Friday night.

Bouncing your foot along with the music you look at each of the guys, examining their hands and the movements they are making to create the sounds you are hearing. You find your gaze fixed upon Jake and his hands, far longer than any of the others. When you realize and look up you see his eyes trained on you, watching you just as intently as you were watching him. He nods his head in a come here motion, and you reel back slightly. What?

“Come here,” he speaks out.

You stand nervously and approach him. He slings the guitar strap over his head before placing it over your shoulder. It hangs heavily around your neck, as he smiles. “Okay, grab the neck,” he says, picking up your hand and placing it on the frets, “and this arm…” he says, pulling it through the strap, “Rests here. There, now you have held a guitar.” he smiles.

The feeling of his hands on your body in any capacity is enough to send your nervous system into overdrive. You feel like you might faint, but quickly reel it in. He walks around to the front of the guitar and places your fingers on the strings in a specific pattern.

“Okay, hold those there. It might hurt a little but it will go away.” he says, pulling the dark green guitar pick out of his teeth and handing it to you. “Okay take this and strum the strings.”

You do as he says and the note rings out. A smile crosses your face and his. You cant help but notice the shine in his eyes. A look of pride.

“Hey! You did it! You’ll be replacing Jake in no time!” Josh jokes from his stool. You look over to Sam who has an annoyed look on his face.

“Jake, isn’t your girlfriend coming over or something…” Sam asks pointedly.

Jake doesn’t answer, but he steps backwards from you, realizing the way things must look.

Your eyes flick back to him and you notice his face is red and you try to break the tension, “Thanks, I feel like I am definitely qualified to write about this now.” you joke, removing the strap from around your neck and handing the guitar back to him. Your hand brushes his in the exchange and you feel that spark again.

As you make your way back to the couch you pull your phone from your pocket and send a quick text to your mom letting her know she could come pick you up. You spend the next twenty minutes watching them play and goof around with different songs. When she texts you that she is here, you stand up and zip your coat to prepare to leave.

“Are you going?” Jake is the first to ask, and you see a look cross his face that must be embarrassment that he has come across eager.

“Yeah, my mom is here, so I need to get my things from inside.” you say.

“I’ll walk you inside.” Sam says, quickly throwing his bass onto the stand. You see Jake's mouth open, but he closes it and steps back biting his cheek.

What was he going to say?

“Thanks for letting me stay and hang out with you guys! Can’t wait until you’re headlining an arena some day” you laugh, waving at all of them and stepping over the threshold of the door. You close the door gently behind you peering through the pane of glass to see Jake giving you his own version of goodbye with his eyes.

As you lay in your bed that night the memory of your impromptu guitar lesson played through your head, closely followed by a pair of piercing brown eyes willing you to stay just a little longer. Against your will and better judgment you fall asleep that night thinking about Jake Kiszka.

The next several Fridays were spent at the Kiszka house. Your parents were thrilled that you had formed a friendship with the guys and his parents had extended an open invitation for your welcome into their home whenever you wanted. Fridays turned into Saturdays which turned into going to hangout with Sam most days after school. You and Sam had become extremely close friends, even after the project was all said and done Freshman year. You and Sam even went to prom together Junior year. At a certain point you thought Sam might have feelings for you, but when you started dating Michael Carvey later that year, that suspicion went away. By summer of Senior year, Michael was but a passing memory and you and Sam were closer than ever. Their band actually had taken off. They were on the path to even record an EP. You had never been happier for them. You had seen first hand just how hard they worked to get there. You even helped Sam pass Calculus so that his parents would let him go play bar gigs in Detroit til 2AM. He was your best friend, and you would do anything for him. You just wanted to see him succeed, and he was.

While Sam never truly came out with his feelings for you after Michael, you knew. He knew. It was unspoken. You spent practically all of your time with him, but you didn’t feel that way about him. But what he didn’t know, and what you could never tell him was why. It would ruin your friendship. It was Jake, and it had been since that day in the garage. You thought that he was just your first real crush, and that when you had a boyfriend that feeling would go away. But it didn’t. Throughout the years it was a look here, or a touch there. He would say or do something, anything to keep you hanging on and it worked. You both knew it. But you also both knew nothing could ever come of it. You couldn’t do that to Sam. As the years passed you grew distant from Jake as he and Josh went off to college. You and Sam grew closer and now Senior year was drawing to a close.

May 2017

“Hello?” you answered your phone.

“Hey… did they tell you?” Sam asked.

“Who? Tell me what?” you ask.

“Our parents think they are sneaky and are throwing us a surprise Graduation party” he says with a sigh.

“Oh, well I guess it's not a surprise now, huh?” you laugh.

“I hate surprises!” he says, “I only found out because I heard my mom talking to Josh on the phone.”

“Oh, is Josh coming home for this?” you ask, knowing that if Josh was going, Jake wouldn’t be too far behind.

“Yeah I think they both are. Lucky us…” he says in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah, well, let's just get through the actual graduation before we worry about the party, okay?” you ask.

“Alright, talk to you later.” he says hanging up.

You throw your phone onto your bed and bring your hand to your chest.

You haven't seen Jake in months. A feeling of anxiety washes over you at the thought. You have kept up with him on social media but he hasn’t been home when you’ve gone to hang out with Sam lately. They just finalized their EP and he and Josh have been in Detroit working on the tour schedule. You got into U of M for the fall term and you are so excited you can hardly wait. Sam decided against college, following after Jake. He wants to see where the band will take him, knowing that if he decides to stop the band, college will still be an option. You disagree with his choice, but he is your best friend and you will support him with whatever he decides. Danny did the same, shortly followed by Josh dropping out of U of M. Jake only attended the first year of college, deciding that his band was his dream. They were going to make it, you just had a feeling.

A few days later as you are putting on your graduation dress, you stop and look at yourself in the mirror. You remember standing in this exact spot the day you started highschool, wondering who you would be, and what you would look like in four years. A lot has changed since that moment. You have filled out, become more of a woman than a young girl. You are smart, 5th in your class. You have a partial scholarship to your top choice college and a whole bright future ahead of you. You have had a few boyfriends, a few different hair styles and a few friends come and go. But one thing has remained constant in those passing four years. The forbidden and undeniable tug in your heart for Jake.

You stand up pushing the thought from your mind as you grab your cap and gown and head downstairs to meet your parents. They think they have pulled a fast one on you with this whole surprise party, and you let them believe it. You know they are going to miss you terribly when you leave for college.

Hours later as you strut across the stage to accept your diploma, you notice a face in the crowd that tugs on that heartstring once again. You wondered if he would be here. He looks different now, his hair longer, grown out to the tops of his shoulders. His face more structured and defined, his eyes somehow darker and more brooding. His lips, more plump and inviting.

Stop, this is not his moment.

As the Principal hands you your diploma you exit the stage and take your seat. You are proud of your accomplishments and who you have become, and you find yourself wondering if he is too.

As you pull into the driveway at the Kiszka house, you see cars lined up all up and down the streets, in typical Kiszka fashion they have invited the whole town. As your family makes their way inside everyone rushes towards you and congratulates you on your achievement. You spend the next 20 minutes greeting everyone and thanking them for coming and for all of their support over the past few years. As your parents get tangled up in conversation you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can sneak yourself a drink. As you step into the kitchen he's there. Standing. Waiting. Almost as if he knew this would be your first stop. A soft side smile crosses his face as he extends a red solo cup to you. You smile and take it, taking a sip and you nearly choke.

“What in the world is this?” you say disgusted.

“A little bit of everything. You better get used to it, college girl.” he says playfully.

You roll your eyes with a smile and take another sip, knowing it's only a matter of time until you’re whisked away by another family member.

“I didn’t think you would come. Haven’t seen you in a while.” you say casually.

“You thought I would miss this?” he asks, almost as if you’d hurt him.

“I don’t know… You have just been busy, with the EP and all…” you trail off.

He pushes off the counter and looks behind him, before bringing a hand to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek bone. He pauses for a second, just looking at you.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says, his hand sliding off your face, and down your arm. His fingertips graze yours as he turns and walks away.

JAKE POV

You had to go. You had to get out of there. You walk out of the kitchen, the smell of her perfume still lingering in your nose. You can smell it on your hand. The hand that touched her perfectly soft face, just seconds ago. You knew if you stood there for one second longer it would be over. Everything you have fought for years, gone in an instant. You would kiss her, and it would ruin everything. So instead you left her there, with the only thing that you could force out of your mouth.

‘You’re so beautiful.’

And god, was she. That was just the tip of the iceberg. She always was. Even that day so long ago, sprawled out on your living room floor next to Sam. You haven't let that day slip from your mind even once. She was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. You felt compelled to be near her. You couldn’t stay away.

It’s been four years, and with each passing day you watched her change and grow and turn into the beautiful woman that was standing in front of you, and even after all this time and everything that has happened between you, you still can’t have her.

You remember the day Sam told you that he liked her. It was just a few short weeks after that night in the garage. You were crushed, but he could never know that. You knew you could never have her, simply because he wanted her. She was his best friend. It was forbidden. So you watched from afar, wishing it was you laughing with her on the phone each night. Texting her the funny things that happened in your day, or just hanging out and going to movies together. Anything with her. But it wasn’t you. It was Sam. The worst part of it all, was knowing she didn’t feel the same for him, and trying to help him see it himself.

You both knew it would never be more than stolen glances, and secrets. Even if you both wanted it. There would always be Sam.

Stepping back into your bedroom you shut the door, and walk over to your dresser. You open the tiny wooden box on top and dig out the joint you rolled earlier in the day, thanking yourself for thinking ahead. You put it in the front pocket of your shirt, along with a lighter. You close the box and glance over to the card sitting on your desk. You have been debating on whether or not you were going to give it to her all day. You look away and walk back to the door, twisting the knob and leaving the room.

The party is starting to die down, a lot of your parents' friends have already left, but a few linger still. You join your siblings and friends in the basement, knowing that she will be down there. You run your fingers through your hair quickly, and take a deep breath as you head down the steps. Everyone is hanging out, lounging on the couches and chairs, even a few people are spread across the floor. You see her on the couch next to Sam and you look away as you go to sit next to Josh on the floor. He is right in the middle of telling a story in his usual overly animated style. You never really understood how he did that. You were never good at storytelling.

You lean back on your arms and cross your legs in front of you. You look around the room and your eyes meet hers. She bites her lip into her mouth as she looks at you. You wished she wouldn’t do that. You find yourself thinking of how her lips would feel between your own teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time you thought of it, however. Her eyes dart away from yours as Sam begins to speak.

Your eyes move down her body, focusing on the light reflecting off of her bare legs. They look so smooth, they are practically shining, even in the dim lighting of the basement. You force yourself to look away, and start a side conversation with Josh, but the whole time all you think about is her and how she looked at you in the kitchen. How she has always looked at you.

You have purposefully stayed away from her for the past few months. You couldn’t trust yourself, and you have thankfully been busy with the EP and planning the tour. You have spent a lot of time in Detroit and have scarcely been home. But that didn't mean you weren’t thinking of her. She was always there.

Everytime you would come home you would hope she was there hanging out with Sam, just wanting one glance from her to hold you over another few weeks. But she wasn’t. So when your mom called and asked if you could come home for Sam’s graduation, you didn’t hesitate to jump in your car and head home immediately. You knew she would be there, and here she was, even more beautiful than the last time you saw her.

Knowing that you needed to get her out of your head you stand up and walk back upstairs, making your way to the back porch. You position yourself on the old wicker patio set in the corner and pull the tightly rolled joint from your shirt pocket.

Placing your feet on the table in front of you, you block the wind and light the end of the joint.

Taking a long drag you breathe in as deeply as your lungs can take and let it slip slowly past your lips.

You tilt your head back onto the chair and stare up at the night sky, counting each star and trying to pick out the patterns you recognize. A smile crosses your face as you find the little dipper. It always makes you think of her. Her sophomore year, Fourth of July. You pointed it out to her. Somehow she had never seen it. It was the first time you held her, trying to position her the right way to be able to see it. You never wanted it to end. Her hand gripped yours tightly when she saw it, it was perfect. Ever since that night you always think of her when you see it. You can always find it. It’s always there. Just like her, in your heart.

A low rumble sounds through the house as you hear Sam and Danny playing around with a guitar in the basement. Typically you would join in, but tonight you are perfectly fine right here staring up at the stars imagining what if. Just far enough away to clear your mind but still close to her. You can feel her near you. After a few minutes you hear the door open and tilt your head to see who it is. You sit up a little when you see that it's her. You knew she would come looking for you. She always does and you’re always waiting.

She walks over and sits in the chair next to you crossing her legs on the table just like yours. You both just look at each other, no words needed to be said. This was a familiar occurrence between the two of you. Many times over the years you have found yourself in this exact spot sharing a joint together, each time as if no time has passed at all. No talking, just being together, existing in the same space. But tonight was different.

Your eyes flick to hers, and you pass it to her, her nimble fingers taking it from yours. You watch as she presses the paper to her lips inhaling and closing her eyes as she tilts her head back to look at the sky, much in the same way you just were. The smoke billows from her lips and you watch her chest rise and fall. The moon is bright, not a single cloud to dull its shine as it glows across her skin. You swallow thickly as you try to stifle the situation in your jeans. She passes it back to you, and you press it to your lips, knowing that the shared saliva on the tip is the closest you’ll ever get to tasting her.

“Jake?” she finally speaks up.

You turn your head to face her, involuntarily almost. Your body is betraying you. “Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asks nervously.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“In the kitchen, when you said…” she trails off.

You let a soft smile cross your face, “Yeah I meant it. You are beautiful. You always have been and I’m so proud of you.” you confess reaching your hand out to run your fingers over the small stretch of skin on her arm. You see her face soften and it takes every ounce of your strength to not kiss her right then.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol, the weed or both, but you got brave and now the truth is out.

“I’m proud of you too, you know.” she says, taking the joint back from your fingers. She takes a pull of it and hands it back. “I’m proud of all of you of course, but you… it’s different. The EP is so good. People love it and I know why… it came from here.” she says gently, placing her hand over your heart. The electrifying sensation zapping through your body just as quickly as her hand pulled away. Your hand instinctively reached for the spot hers was just in, before you could even realize.

The music inside is growing louder and you can hear Josh starting to sing. They will be down there for a while. If you’re going to do it, it has to be now.

“Hey, stay here, I have to get something. I’ll be right back.” You hand her the quickly dwindling joint and sprint upstairs to find the card you wrote her. There it sits on your desk, waiting and hoping to be opened. You grab it and shove it into the back pocket of your jeans before you make your way back downstairs and back onto the porch. Your heart is pounding as you rejoin her. You can tell that she is feeling the effects of the weed, as she is not trying to avoid eye contact anymore. Her eyes are locked in on your every movement.

You pull the blue envelope out of your pocket and nervously hand it to her. Her brow furrows and she accepts it, reading her name across the front in your messy handwriting.

“Jake…” she says, pulling the card out of the envelope.

“Just open it…” you say nervously.

Her eyes shoot up when she opens the card and notices it. You feel like your heart stops beating for a second as she realizes what it is. You let out a silent breath as you see the corners of her lips turning upward into a smile.

Taped inside the card was a small green guitar pick. The same one you used that night in the garage. The one you have carried with you everyday since.

“Jake you kept this?” she asked, rhetorically.

“I’ve had it with me everyday. Kept it in my wallet. I know it’s stupid… I just…” you stammer.

“It’s not stupid Jake… but why are you giving it to me, you’ve kept it all this time…” she asks, confused on why you would give her something you’ve kept for so long.

Your face turns a dark crimson as you tell her the reason, “Well, I have carried that with me everyday for four years, like… a little piece of you was always with me. Now, I want you to have it. Carry a piece of me… with you. So you don’t forget me when you go away. You have always been my first pick, here’s your proof.” you say nervously.

She looks down, her eyes filled with tears, and smooths her pointer finger over the pick. She closes the card and her eyes flick up to yours. They are different, sad, but dark. She places the card on the table and stands up, walking to lean against the railing that overlooks the ravine next to your childhood home.

You stand and join her, feeling like you have messed up. Like you shouldn’t have said that.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset yo–” you are cut off as her hands cup your jaw, and finally after years of dreaming about it, you feel her lips pressed against yours. Your hand finds its place on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you as your other hand meets the small of her back.

It’s heaven, ecstasy, pure bliss, any beautiful and mind blowing word you could conjure would never be able to explain the feeling coursing through your veins. You can feel every emotion that neither of you could ever explain, being described perfectly as your lips meld with hers. Her soft, perfect lips. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

She pulls away, far too soon. Your body is still gravitating to hers. Her hands release your face and smooth down the front of your chest, before pulling away. You can tell than neither of you wanted it to end. But you both knew it had to. At least you had this. This one perfect moment with her.

She pulls you in for a hug, but this hug is not happy. This hug is sad, and longing. This hug says I will miss you, and I’m not ready to leave you yet.

“The best gift. Thank you Jake.” she whispers as she pulls away, letting you go.

–

HER POV

You sit on the bed in your childhood bedroom, knowing that in a few short weeks this will all be a distant memory. You will be living away from home, no family, no friends. No Sam. No Jake. The thought is dreadful, but you are excited to start new. You were so overwhelmed by Jake’s card tonight. The pick… You can’t believe he kept it, after all this time. Why he kept it... It nearly shattered you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read what he had written in the card, knowing you would burst into tears. You had to stand up and walk away, but he was there, ready to comfort you, thinking that he had done something wrong when in reality he did everything right. The kiss. You can’t even put into words the kiss. It was everything. You hoped he could feel how much you loved him.

So now you find yourself here, sitting on your bed, staring at the card in front of you, willing yourself to read the words he has written, just for you.

You open the card, seeing the pick taped inside, and his perfectly sloppy handwriting.

Hey college girl,

Proud of you for being a smartypants. I always knew you were smarter than me. But I do have some advice for you, since I am older and therefore wiser, ha ha.

Skip at least 1 class a month to go do something fun.

Don’t waste too much of your time perfecting your homework, C’s get degrees…

Never go anywhere alone. If you ever find yourself alone, I’m only a phone call away.

You laugh at his advice, it is so perfectly Jake. Written messily underneath the pick you see his parting line.

I’ve kept a piece of you with me, and now a piece of me will be with you. Don’t forget me.

All my love,

Jake

You close the card and put it on your night stand. You pull the blankets over your head and turn off the lamp. As you lie alone with your thoughts on what is supposed to be a happy day, you cry yourself to sleep knowing that you could never forget him. Even if you wanted to.

–

August 2017

“Where do you want this?” Sam asks, holding up your full length mirror.

“How about near the closet somewhere?” you ask.

Sam graciously offered to help you and your parents move your things into your dorm room. He was leaving for tour in a few days and he wanted to spend every last second together before you were both separated from each other. You spent practically all summer together, hanging out, going to the lake, watching them practice for tour. The summer went by too quickly, but you knew it would. Things were changing, Sam became more and more busy with the band, and you were busy preparing everything for your move and classes. When he offered to help you move in you accepted, knowing it would probably be the last time you saw him for a long time.

“Okay honey, that's everything. Only need to unpack these boxes of random stuff, and you will be all moved in.” your mom says, teary eyed.

“Thanks mom, I couldn’t have done all of this without you, really.” you say pulling her in for a hug.

Your dad follows behind her, giving you his signature bear hug. “You call us if you need anything. I mean it.” he says sternly.

“I will dad, I promise.” you reply and with that they leave you to your new life as a college student.

You stand in your room, staring at the door, as Sam starts to speak. “Are you okay?” he asks nervously. You feel his arm encircling your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a little bit sad. Everyone is leaving me.” you reply.

“Not really, they are only an hour and a half away,” he says.

“Not just them, you too.” you say.

“I’m not leaving you! We are just going for a few months. It will go by quickly. I can come visit as soon as we get back! Or maybe you can come see a show or…” he trails off.

“Plus, you can call me or text me whenever you want. You know I always answer you.” he smiles. “Dont, be sad. You’re too pretty to be sad.”

You snap your head to look at him, he has never said something like that to you.

“What?” he asks.

“Well… you never say that kind of stuff to me Sam.” you say curiously.

“Yeah I know, but I have been thinking…” he says.

You nod your head, encouraging him to continue his thought.

“Do you remember the day we got partnered up Freshman year?” he asks.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“When I found out you were my partner I was so excited. But I tried to play it cool. I just thought you were soooo pretty.” he laughs.

He starts to unpack one of the boxes full of random items as he continues, “The night you came over, I didn’t even know how to handle what I was feeling, you were so smart, and funny. I couldn’t understand why I never saw it before. I mean, we knew each other for years.” he says, placing books on your little book shelf.

“I was so excited you stayed to watch us jam in the garage. I wanted to impress you. A few weeks later I admitted to myself that I liked you. I even asked Jake for advice. None of it worked, obviously. ” he smiles shrugging with his shoulders.

Jake knew? Why didn’t he tell you?

“I worked up all my courage to ask you to Prom, I was still nervous though. I was going to try to kiss you that night. I clearly didn't...” he laughed.

“Then when you started dating Michael, I had the answer I needed. You obviously didn’t feel the same way about me. I put my feelings aside and continued to just be your best friend. I was fine with that. I’ve been fine with that. But now, we are leaving, and you’re starting school and it just feels like I had to tell you. You had to know, if you didn’t already.”

“Sam…” you drag his name out.

“I know, I know, so typical. Guy falls in love with his best friend…” he laughs.

“In love?” you ask shocked.

“Of course…how could I not? But… I know it’s not like that for you. Or else it would have happened long before now.” he says, closing the drawer of your nightstand.

He knows, he gets it. But he doesn’t know why.

“You are my best friend Sam...Practically my brother. I love you, you know that. But I love you like a brother.” you say, ashamed, and knowing that you are crushing him.

“I figured that’s what you would say. There are no hard feelings, I promise.” he says with a smile. But you know it's a lie.

“Are you sure, I feel so stupid…” you reply.

“No, you’re not stupid. I promise. I mean you’re the one going to college here...” he laughs.

“Sam you got into HARVARD.” you laugh.

“Yeah…wasn’t for me…” you both laugh and the tension melts away.

A little while later, you are unpacking the last box and you see all of the pictures you selected for your bulletin board. You grab the thumb tacks and the stack of photos and mementos and turn to put them up.

“Oh, I can do that. I’m good at collaging.” Sam jokes.

You hand him the stack and turn back to your bottomless pit of a last box.

You carry a few items to the closet, and peek over your shoulder to check on his progress.

“Looks good Sammy!” you yell behind you.

When you return to the room you see him sitting on the bed reading something. The blood drains from your face as you see exactly what it is.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, you can feel the venom in his tone.

You walk over to him and snatch the card out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. Ignoring his question. But you know it’s too late. He read it.

“What is that? I know it's from Jake… I could recognize that handwriting anywhere!” he demands.

“Nothing, Sam! He just gave me a card at that graduation party! It wasn’t even supposed to be in that box. I don’t know why it’s in there. Must have been an accident.” you say, tossing it in the small trash can by your desk.

You can see his body relax as he watches the folded blue card hit the bottom of the can, and with it the entirety of your heart.

You never thought that the first thing you would learn in college would be that your best friend is in love with you. Only to be quickly followed by him reading his own brother's private confession, meant for your eyes only. He changes the subject quickly so you know he didn’t read into it too much, and you are thankful. The last thing you want to do is try to explain.

Another hour or so of packing and talking and it’s time for Sam to go. A few tears and a lot of ‘I’ll miss you’s’ later, you watch as his hand me down Subaru pulls away from your dorm. With a promise of ‘I’ll call you’, you head back into your room.

Rushing straight to the trash can you pick up the card, running your fingers over the letters as you let the tears fall. You hate lying to Sam. You wish you could be honest, but you know you can't. Especially now.

How could you do this to him? He is your best friend. Your best friend who is in love with you… He would never understand.

Tears roll down your cheek as you pin the card to your bulletin board. The pick still sits perfectly taped inside the card. You haven’t brought yourself to take it out, afraid you will lose it. You couldn’t bear the thought. It sits right next to a picture of you and Sam. His arm draped around the back of your neck pulling your face close to his. Both of you are wearing huge, happy smiles.

Your best friend.

A pang of guilt shoots through your chest as you imagine how Sam must have felt all these years. Hearing you complain about boys and watching you date them, when all he wanted was for it to be him. All the times you cried to him on the phone about your bad dates and break ups…He was always there.

In a way you almost feel like you led him on, spending almost everyday with him this summer. You knew you two had grown closer, but you didn’t know how much more it meant to him. All the while you were pining after his brother. The brother who he asked for advice. About you. You, never even throwing a thought his way. Now you’re here at college, and they are leaving for tour. You’re not sure when you’ll see them again, but maybe the distance will be good. Maybe it will give you all the clarity you need.

You decide to take a shower to rinse away the day, and hope that it will help you relax into your new surroundings. It’s hard being in a new place where no one knows you. It’s scary and lonely. You triple check the lock on your door and text your mom that you are in for the night, so that she doesn’t worry.

As you crawl into the unfamiliar twin bed, you read a few pages of a book your mom bought you, and find yourself growing drowsy with each flip of a page. When your phone vibrates next to you, your eyes pop open, waking you from your light sleep. You pick it up wondering who it could be, and when you see the name on the screen it nearly takes your breath away.

Jake.

With shaking hands you swipe to open the message and what you are met with, sends a chill down your spine.

Jake: Sam called.

Chapter 2

405 notes · View notes

cuttergauthier · 10 months

Text

Neighbours

Quinn Hughes x Female reader

Warning: against, fluff, cussing, alcohol

word count: 3.7k

let me know what you guys think🤍

April 2022

I moved to Vancouver 2 weeks ago for work even though I can work from home. I wanted a change so I decided to move. I'm a clothing designer. I started the summer before I started going to university. It was hard trying to juggle a clothing brand and university at the same time especially since i was doing extra classes during summer since i wanted to be able to finish a semester earlier so i could go back home for summer & be settled in Vancouver for when i come back in September, but i was able to make it work.

When I first started I would only make 1 shirt in all sizes and sell them, it took a while to be able to make money off it, but now the clothing company is doing really well, It’s an online clothing store. I sell both Women & Men clothes from comfy to fancy.

I’ve always wanted to open my own store and I thought Vancouver would be perfect for that, most of my buyers are from canada.

I was born in Plymouth Michigan, i grew up in a lake house, my parent’s love it here, so do i, during winter my dad, my older brother and i would go skating on the lake, it’s one of my favorite things to do during the winter, during summertime we would go on boat rides almost every day.

I went to the University of Michigan, I graduated in June, it was the best 3 and a half years, now I'm on a new chapter of my life. I

I am still getting used to Vancouver. I don’t really know where everything is yet, it’s only been 5 days and i can work on my own time as long as i meet my deadlines, so i’ve been walking around Vancouver. It was a pretty chilly day but it wasn’t too bad. We are now at the end of April.

It took a while before moving here to look for an apartment, And to get everything settled since I’m American i needed to apply for a work visa, it took a while before i was accepted.

I finally found a cute coffee shop so I made my way inside and in line to order. I looked at the menu to see what I should order. Once I decided to go with (favorite coffee order) the line was shorter and it was only a cute guy in front of me and I.

When I finally ordered, I made my way to the pick up station. The cute guy got his drink before me and walked out. I got my drink a second later and left the coffee shot. I started walking back to my apartment since I still have some unpacking to do.

I’m walking and looking around me, Vancouver is truly a beautiful city. I looked in front of me and saw the cute guy was going in the same direction. He looks familiar but I can't figure out why.

I saw him getting in the same apartment building I live in, maybe he lives there too. I made my way inside to see the elevator doors about to close. The guy looked up from his phone and saw I was walking that way, so he put his hand to stop the doors from closing.

I smiled as I walked in and stood next to him, to see he selected the same floor as I live on.

“Thanks for holding the door,” I said thankfully.

“No problem,” he said. He looked so serious like he didn’t have any emotion in the fact that i said thank you.

“I’m yn” i said

“Quinn” he replied before looking down at his phone.

He looked pretty tired, maybe that’s why he doesn’t seem to want to talk. But so am I, so I can't judge.

The doors opened on our floor and we both started walking to our apartments. We are both going the same direction.

Once he stopped at his place, I stopped at mine which was the one next to him.

How have i not noticed him till today, since i’ve been here, it looked like no one lived there.

I saw him look at me before he opened the door. I looked at him as we made eye contact for a second.

“See you around neighbor” i told him smiling before walking in my Apartment and closing the door behind me.

I really hope I see him again. I smiled before continuing to unpack my stuff.

1 week later, May 2022

I finished packing my suitcase to bring back home with me. I was finally able to finish unpacking the furniture and everything else in this apartment so I thought I would finally go back home, since it’s warmer there right now then it is in Vancouver.

I made sure everything was turned off and made my way out of the apartment with my suitcase. As soon as I locked my door, Quinn opened his and got out with his suitcase. Looks like I'm not the only one who seems to be leaving Vancouver.

I made my way to the elevator and I saw him do the same. I made sure to wait before pressing the lobby button.

“Thanks” he mumbled

“ no problem… Are you going to Vancouver?” I ask him, trying to make conversation.

He looked at me confused for a minute, before he shook his head.

“Going to see friends and family” he replied

“That’s always nice,” I say. All he did was nod, I guess he’s not one for conversation.

We both got out of the elevator and made our way outside, i had ordered an uber so that I wouldn't have to wait. It looks like Quinn did the same thing. Once my suitcase was in the trunk the driver started making his way to the airport.

I texted my parents to let them know I was on my way to the airport.

I got my bags checked in and made my way to my area. I found a spot where no one was sitting and sat down. My flight is only boarding in an hour but I like coming here earlier in case it’s ever busy.

I saw that my brother had texted me, he’s only 1 year older than me, he's 23 but he’s my best friend.

Big bro

Yo, are you on your way yet?

I chuckled, of course he’s impatient

Just got my bags checked in, we are only boarding the plane in an hour

Big bro

Please hurry, I miss you!

Big bro

Also before i forget, apparently the hughes brothers bought the lake house next to us that was for sale, i met one of them yesterday and some of his friends they all play pro hockey, one of the brothers plays for Vancouver, Jack said he should be getting in today & the ones i met are really cool, they’re around are age, so looks like we’ll have a fun summer🤪

Oh good, at least it’s not another older couple who would complain every time we try to throw a party when mom and dad go away for the 4th of July😂 & wtf obviously i heard about then you idiot, kinda hard not to when we both went to a school where a bunch of hockey players went to. Also I met the youngest Luke at university, Nick introduced me to the freshman at the beginning of the year.

Big bro

I know right😂 oh cool then i guess you’ll know one of them! Anyways see you soon kid!

See ya!

I smiled, hopefully I won't be stuck hanging out with a bunch of idiots the whole summer, but at least we aren’t the only ones our age.

I was scrolling through instagram. In the corner of my eye I saw someone sitting in one of the seats in front of me.

I looked up and saw Quinn, looking like he’s going to Michigan.

He looked up at me so I smiled.

When it was finally time to board the plane, I went and sat in my seat. I'm thankful that i got the window seat, a few seconds later Quinn sat down in the seat next to me.

“Looks like we’re both going to the same place” I said.

He just nodded.

I looked back at him with a small smirk, I have a feeling that I’ll probably annoy him on the flight.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” I said teasing him, every time i try and talk to him, he looks like he ins’t interested in talking to me.

“Not really, do you need something from me? i’m not interested, okay, i get enough people trying to get with me just because of who i am i don’t need to have one who’s going to try the whole plane ride back to michigan” he said a little annoyed.

That was rude, why would he think I wanted anything from him… then it struck me that’s why he looked so familiar when i first met him. He’s the guy my brother told me about the brother who plays for Vancouver. He’s Quinn Hughes. He’s also Luke's older brother. How the hell did I not figure this out earlier? Luke told me that his oldest brother played for Vancouver, I just didn’t think he would be my neighbor and having him hate me.

Once I made the connection my eyes widened.

Quinn rolled his eyes.

“See you clearly know who i am, so just leave me alone” he said annoyed.

I scoffed.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Luke’s my favorite anyways. I also didn’t recognize you until now, not everyone is going to recognize who you are. I’m also guessing you’re going to the lake house you and Jack just bought right?” I said. He’s pissing me off, and since he doesn’t know we are going to be neighbors or that I know Luke, I thought I would creep him out a little bit.

His eyes widened when I said that.

“Omg are you some kind of stalker?” He said in disgust.

I chuckled at his expression, he looks really creeped out right now.

“Not a stalker but according to my brother who met Jack yesterday we are about to be neighbor’s… again.” I said

“I’m sorry… what?”

“Oh My brother texted me earlier turns out you and jack bought the lake house right next to my parents house, looks like we’ll see each other a lot this summer” i said smirk

I heard him curse under his breath.

“You better not go anywhere near our house,” he said.

“that’s funny because i can promise the second Luke sees me, he’s going to invite me over”

“Like hell he is” he said laughing like there was no way that would ever happen.

“I don’t care if you guys play hockey, i’m going to go after you just because of fame or money. And Just so you know, I already know luke. I met him in September when he started at Michigan since I'm friends with Blanks. He's a good kid, i would help tutor him with calculus, i think of him as a little brother, same with the other younger guys. I even met your mom for fuck sakes and she was nicer than you are right now” i said,

I could see a look of regret on his face. He sighed.

“Look i’m sorry okay, a lot of people try to get along just because of who I am , same with my brothers. Can we start over?” He asked.

He looked sincere, and I nodded, i know my brother will most likely hang out with them a lot this summer, so we should probably get along.

“I’d like that” i said

He smiled

“I’m quinn hughes, it’s nice to meet you” he said

“I’m Y/n Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you too” i said.

We ended up getting to know each other for the rest of the flight. I told him about what I studied at university and what I do, along with a few funny stories about Luke and some of the other freshmen. He told me about hockey and his family. It was nice actually talking to him, and I really hope we can be friends since we are neighbors in Vancouver and now in Michigan.

Michigan

When our flight landed we made our way out, and went to baggage claim.

I texted my brother to let him know, he said he was waiting with Jack and Luke since both Quinn and I were on the same flight.

“Looks like my brother is waiting with yours” I told Quinn as we started looking for them.

“I see Jack, come on,” he said. I followed him to our brothers

When my brother saw me, he pulled me in a hug, making me laugh.

“I miss you too Y/B/N” i said

“Y/N” Luke said when he saw me and pulled me in a hug.

“Hey Luke” I chuckle.

“You guys already know each other?” Jack asked, confused.

Luke let go of me and looked at jack.

“Yeah, she’s friends with blanks, he introduced us in the beginning of the year, she’s also the reason why i passed calculus, thanks for tutoring me by the way” he said

“How did she tutor you if she lives in Vancouver?” Jack asked again, you could tell he was so lost, it was funny.

“I’ve only been living in Vancouver for 2 weeks now, i graduated from university of Michigan after Christmas” I said and he nodded.

“Oh make sense, and you’ve met quinn?”

“Turns out we’re neighbors in Vancouver” quinn answered, i smiled at him.

Our brothers started laughing.

“What are the fucking chances” luke said

“Yeah seriously, now you’re also neighbors here” my brother said

“I know right,” I said.

“Let’s get going” quinn said impatient

“Yeah, yeah let’s get grumpy,” Jack said.

Quinn rolled his eyes at him which made me laugh.

We made our way to the car and Jack drove us to the lake house.

Jack parked in his driveway and we all made our way to the trunk.

My brother took my suitcase before Jack turned to look at us.

“I don’t know what your plans are today, but we are having a bonfire tonight, you two are both welcome to join us” he said smiling.

“Thanks jack, that sounds fun” i said

My brother nodded.

“Yeah man we’ll be there” my brother said

“Great, then we’ll see you guys tonight”

“Blanks and a few other wolverines are here by the way, I won’t tell them, you’ll be able to surprise them” luke told me. I smiled and nodded before my brother and i made our way to our house.

As soon as we got in the house my parents hugged me.

I talked to them about Vancouver and how Quinn was my neighbor there and now here which made them laugh.

Then I went up to my room to unpack. By the time I was done it was 6:30 p.m. so I went to take a shower since I was all sweaty. Once I was done I got dressed in some Black Lululemon gym shorts and my blue Michigan hoodie.

My dad made food on the grill for dinner so I made my way down to eat since it’s already 7:30 and I am starting.

I sat down at the island counter on the chair and my mom gave me a plate.

“Thanks mom,” I said smiling.

“No problem honey” she said, placing a kiss on my cheek.

“When you’re done eating we’ll go next door. Jack said they started the fire even though it’s still light out, and you can bring alcohol if you want or he said they have a lot so we should be good.” My brother told me.

“I think you still have some (favorite alcoholic drink) in the fridge from before you left for Vancouver, bring it with you if you go” my mom said before making her way to the living room with my dad.

I finished eating so I put my plate in the dishwasher and looked in the fridge for the drinks my mom was talking about and there were still 6 of them so I put them in a bag. My brother and I made our way next door.

I saw Blanks was standing with his back to me talking with Luke. Luke saw me but I told him not to say anything. I gave my bag to my brother and ran up and jumped on his back.

“What the hell!” blanks screeched.

I laughed.

“Surprise!” I said before getting down.

“Yn?” He was surprised to see me. I nodded before he gave me a hug.

“I live next door '' I said happily, a big smile made its way on his face.

“This is about to be the best summer ever” he replied, making me laugh.

“Want to know what funny blanks she’s our neighbor here, and she’s quinn’s neighbor in Vancouver” Luke told him and i rolled my eyes, with a smile.

Nick let out a gasp.

“For real? Oh that’s awesome, like seriously what are the chances” he said

“I know right, also Luke, are you going to tell everyone?” I ask, chuckling.

Luke nodded, smiling.

“Everyone has to know” he said, like it’s the most obvious thing ever. He walked away leaving me alone with blanks.

“So, how is it like living next to Quinn?” He asked, smirking.

I rolled my eyes.

“Oh shut up” I replied, he laughed.

“No but seriously, how is it?”

“Fine i guess, he’s pretty quiet, but he kinda hated me until we got on the flight and sat next to each other, he thought i was some crazy fan” i said and nick burst out laughing i didn’t even know if he could breathe.

“What’s so funny?”

“Let me guess, you were nice and always tried to make conversation with him?”

“Yeah…” I said and he shocked his head.

“That’s what a hockey player with think most of the time when a beautiful girl tries to talk to him and especially if you see him everywhere and end up on the same plane as him, he’s gonna think you’re following him, it’s just an instinct” nick said

“Yeah i know, but i really didn’t recognize him until after my brother told me about them buying the house next door to me and then accusing me of wanting something from him, then i saw the resemblance to Luke, so i kinda creeped him out a bit about telling him i knew exactly where he was going “ i said and nick chuckled.

“Of course you did… Quinn is a good guy though so i don’t doubt you guys won’t become friends… or maybe even more than friends” he said smirking.

I pushed him back.

“Oh shut up, let’s go see everyone else” I said, laughing.

We made our way to everyone else. Blanks introduced me to the guys. They all sound really nice.

We sat around the fire and drank, the guys were sharing funny stories. Nick told the story about how Quinn and I met. I put my hands on my face to hide the embarrassment. The guys laughed

“Seriously Quinn?” Luke asked

“Look sorry but you never told me about her” Quinn replied.

We continued talking and sharing stories for the rest of the night. Some of the guys had already made their way inside to go to bed since it was late. My brother had gone back home, now it was only Quinn, blanks and i.

“I’m going to head up to bed before I pass out here” Blanks told us, making me chuckle.

“Good night blanks,” I said.

“Good night you two,” he said, smirking. I’ve known him for 4 years, he’s totally up to something.

“I should probably head to bed too, I don't want to be too tired tomorrow” I said, yawning.

Quinn turned to me and smiled.

“What?” I ask giggling.

“If I ask you on a date, would you say yes?” He asked, making me smile.

“I would,” I said blushing.

“Well, yn would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

“ i would love to” i said smiling

“Perfect, I'll pick you up at 6:30 p.m.” he said and I smiled.

We said goodbyes and I made my way home.

Once I got into bed, I fell asleep with the biggest smile on my face.

September 2022

Going on that date with Quinn was the best decision I could have made. It went really well that we went on 3 more dates until he finally asked me to be his girlfriend.

We spent as much time as we could together this summer. When the guys found out we were dating they laughed since Luke had told everyone what happened when Quinn and I first met.

We have been in Vancouver for a little bit now, Quinn came back in August for training camp, i got back last week. I know how hockey season can be, but I also know Quinn and I will make it work. We’ll be seeing each other a lot since we are neighbors.

Quinn had practice this morning but he told me last night that he would come by after lunch.

He’s been stressed lately, he hopes he can have a better season than last year, i don’t blame him.

It’s now 12 p.m. when I heard the door open.

“Babe, I'm here and I brought food,” I heard quinn.

“I’m in the kitchen,” I replied.

He made his way around the corner and smiled when he saw me.

“Hey beautiful” he said, making me blush.

He chuckled, he put the food on the counter and came over to me and kissed me. When we pulled away our forehead touched each other. I looked at his eyes to see he was doing the same.

“I love you” I said happily.

“I love you more” he replied before leaning in and kissing me again.

Being with him, nothing could make me happier.

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taegularities · 11 months

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colour me in: timeline | jjk

numerous main parts and several drabbles in, i realised how easy it is to lose track of time. considering how we’ve been jumping between the present and the past, it’s become necessary to illustrate what cmi’s timeline looks like, especially since we can’t store every bit of information ever mentioned in the chapters in our brains at once! so i decided to make this little post that outlines the cmi couple’s entire story chronologically. i will explain things that aren’t explicitly mentioned in the series in detail – the rest is only briefly listed.

in case you haven’t read the series yet and plan to do so – spoilers ahead!! hope the timeline makes sense! 💕

⤑ SERIES MASTERLIST

⤑ last year, sometime in late spring. break up with nara:

mentioned in cmi4/lights and cmi8/blurred: ⋆ jungkook and nara separate. ⋆ there is a back and forth for a couple of days, but they settle on a mutual decision: it’s over. ⋆ jungkook, hurt by loneliness and tempted by freedom, sleeps with other girls. ⋆ nara and jungkook cannot keep it at this break up – more to this later.

⤑ last year, july. frat party:

cmi8/blurred: ⋆ jungkook and oc meet at fratboy choi yeonjun’s private party and talk. ⋆ they hook up and build a connection without any high expectations of crossing paths again. ⋆ jungkook is not hooking up with nara at this point. ⋆ oc rejected hoseok whom she had a fling with during freshman year and again a couple months ago. he’s a fleeting friend.

⤑ last year, fall/september. accounting/business class:

mentioned throughout the series: ⋆ jungkook and oc meet again; oc is a business major, and jungkook attends this class for extra credits. ⋆ not long after meeting again, they fall into constant bickering, competitive in class but secretly fond of each other. lowkey even friends. ⋆ oc tries to push him away bc she’s sure this won’t end well. ⋆ soon after the semester starts, they start hooking up again.

⤑ last year, beginning of october. nara cont.:

partly mentioned in cmi4/lights and explained here and here: ⋆ jungkook and nara have a history together that goes beyond what they were to each other. they grew up together and are used to that connection, even though the depth of the relationship and its importance has faded throughout the last few months. ⋆ they hook up again, multiple times, but eventually realise that neither of them will benefit from this. it’s unhealthy – they need to move on and remain friends. ⋆ they part in good terms; a huge weight is lifted off their shoulders. nara and jungkook are officially over. ⋆ moving on is easier than it was right after their sudden decision to separate as a couple.

⤑ last year, end of october. the fwb deal:

cmi7.5.2/unhindered: ⋆ jungkook and oc have sex and seal the fwb deal. ⋆ jungkook hasn’t slept with anyone but oc since the beginning of october, and with nobody except nara and oc since the frat party.

⤑ last year, end of december. new year’s eve:

cmi5.5/not enough: ⋆ jungkook and oc, still in a fwb thing, are invited to a big party at hoseok’s place. ⋆ oc doesn’t reveal that she knows hoseok and jungkook doesn’t know. hoseok might or might not be aware that oc’s been hanging out with jungkook (more to this after cmi9).

⤑ this year, february 14th. valentine’s day:

cmi6.5/undying roses: ⋆ fwb still ongoing! jungkook and oc aren’t attending any classes together anymore; they’re friends now. ⋆ jungkook gifts her a ‘beauty & the beast’ rose bc he remembers her talking about the movie during choi yeonjun’s party. ⋆ but the movie isn’t mentioned in cmi8/blurred, so guess oc truly cannot remember this bit anymore – it’s not in her diary either.

⤑ this year, june. the fake dating deal:

cmi1–cmi3/layers: ⋆ sealing the fake dating deal. ⋆ jungkook and nara are still somewhat friends. ⋆ more that unfolds: the paparazzi issues, jungkook’s first experience with newspaper headlines, clubbing with all their friends before oc finds out jungkook’s going away for a month.

⤑ this year, july. jungkook’s vacation and the journalist reveal:

cmi4/lights & cmi5/the canvas: ⋆ oc finds out about jungkook and nara’s history; jungkook goes on vacation after that. ⋆ jungkook comes back and needs to tell her something: a journalist, hired by her mother, has been following jungkook around for a while to find content for drama. this creates a huge rift between oc and her parents, and she temporarily stays at jungkook’s place.

⤑ this year, august. the confession and the break up:

cmi6/silhouettes–cmi7.5/letters from the heart: ⋆ oc spends her time at jungkook’s place. ⋆ they make a trip to a smalltown nearby and confess their feelings for each other in the rain, but the next day, everything collapses due to more terrible headlines and jungkook breaks up with her. ⋆ weeks later: they meet again at the hospital after yoongi’s accident. they accompany their friends to the movies where they impulsively kiss but unfortunately part again. ⋆ jungkook starts to realise that and why this was a mistake. he attends an exhibition hosted by namjoon where he displays two of his paintings. ⋆ it’s his birthday, and oc, despite receiving an invitation, doesn’t show up.

⤑ this year, september. the birthday and exhibition:

cmi8/blurred: ⋆ oc has started looking for apartments. ⋆ oc goes to the exhibition. ⋆ what next?

i will add more as we go! this is a late night post, so i might come back to edit it later; i hope this helps for now. please remember that this timeline isn’t supposed to be a summary; it merely provides some insight into what occurred when. only those who have read the fic will find this actually helpful – if you’re interested in the storyline, please do read the series 🤍

#hope this helps a little! lmk if you have any questions!!#also pls praise this lil post it took longer than expected LMAO #n we have a banner hehehehe 🥰#fic: colour me in #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst

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guess-my-next-obsession · 10 months

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Fade Into You, Chapter One: New York, New York

pairing: bookstore owner!ezra x f!reader

rating: M (talks of strange familial relationships, lots of introspection with a touch of angst, brief talks of gender identity/homelessness)

wc: 2.9k

series masterlist

You’d always dreamed of autumn in New York. There always seemed to be a special kind of magic in the air, the browning leaves melting into the brownstones lining the streets. Even in the midst of the city’s chaos and incessant bustle, the season seemed to offer its own comfort to any soul looking for it.

You couldn’t think of anyone who needed that sort of comfort more than yourself.

Grad school was never in your plans, but neither was becoming a writer. You always imagined yourself as something more practical, not because you wanted it, but because practicality had been drilled into you since you were a child. In truth, the dreams you’d buried with your girlhood were the furthest from practical.

You wanted to be a singer, a designer, an actor, a painter, even a fucking astronaut for a couple years after watching an Apollo 11 documentary at the impressionable age of thirteen. Anything that would give you an exit from the life you’d been born into, a life born with the weight of generations of struggle and hardship on its shoulders, seemed like the dream.

You’d been all set to head into an accounting program after graduating high school, satisfying your blue collar father’s dream of stability and your all-too dependent mother’s dream of raising a daughter who didn’t need to rely on a man for survival. You had burned every thought of a life filled with passion and fulfillment to make their dream come true, the guilt of being the eldest daughter outweighing your own desires. But the minute you stepped onto campus, you could feel yourself breathing in the air that they never did, the air that tasted like freedom and choice, and knew you’d let them down.

It took one semester of accounting to know that while you could spend the rest of your life doing this, you weren’t sure if you could live with yourself if you did.

The year that followed this revelation was spent trying on every hat you could.

You tried to satiate your need for adventure by consuming as much of the party life as possible, hoping that perhaps all you needed to feel okay with this sacrifice of desire was to live a little, but that only made you feel more lost. It wasn’t until you stumbled upon a creative writing class that you first felt that spark inside of you, the little kid you’d long buried clawing its way up from the ground to breathe.

You dived head first into these new waters and were surprised to find you were quite decent at it. With a professor's help, you managed to self-publish a poetry book, juvenile work at worst and promising at best, in hindsight, but it was that book that got you into the creative writing program at Columbia.

Into the autumnal magic of New York city.

It had been such a long time since you’d felt this brand new. You had no ties to anyone or anything beyond the tiny studio in Harlem that you called home, and though you weren’t absolved from feelings of loneliness, you felt a surge of confidence blossom in your chest at the thought that you could be anybody here. And so, you would.

Mid September

Needing something to do besides sitting on your bed that doubled as a couch, desk, and table, you found yourself wandering through the slowly cooling city streets. None of the trees showed any signs of preparing for the upcoming season, Central Park’s astounding green acting as a beacon as you got off the subway at 125th street.

Walking down Madison Avenue, you pretended to be cooler than you felt you were, not that any passersby would look at you long enough to notice your effort. In fact, everyone’s lack of perception or care put you at ease. To them, you were just another face in the crowd, and just another face in the crowd caused no hurt or offense, just another face in the crowd was simply that—a person, good or bad, cool or uncool. Your insignificance meant your existence wasn’t staining, and as someone who’d allowed herself to get splashed and tarnished by the colors of the outside world for so long, you never felt freer.

The sound of Mazzy Star’s Blue Light guided you down Madison Avenue much further than you anticipated you’d go, your plans of an afternoon spent in Central Park being derailed by the sudden desire to check out the Guggenheim Museum.

It was this small misdirection, this impulsive journey that led you to his bookstore, the place you’d come to frequent for an entire month before you ever learned his name.

It was a small shop on the first floor of a brownstone, it’s antique golden sign hanging over the shop door reading: Prospect Books. The building’s red brick blended in with its surroundings, leaving you to question this spark of intuition burning in your belly as your eyes fixed onto the sign, your feet slowing on their own accord until you were standing still in front of the window display, blindly staring inside. A couple—new if you had to guess solely based on one man’s chivalry and the other’s smitten smile—opening making their way out, the doorbell jingling with the swing of the wood, caused you to break free from your trance of sorts. Looking down at your phone, you figured you had plenty of time left in your afternoon to make a quick stop into this tiny relic from the past, if only just for the sake of exploration.

“Welcome in,” a voice called from somewhere in the shop, but you couldn’t spot anyone behind the checkout counter.

Rather than speaking back to air, you kept quiet and moved slowly about the room as if a movement too haste would ruin all the history these four walls carried. Finding your way to the fiction section, you finally spotted the owner of the voice that had greeted you, a young person with a jet black shag and round glasses, their smile easy and welcoming as they approached you.

“Need help finding anything?” they asked. You glanced at their name tag reading “Jay” before meeting their eyes, a friendly smile growing on your face as you shrugged your shoulders.

“No, not really looking for anything in particular,” you said. “I’m new here, so, kind of just exploring.”

“Oh, yeah? When did you get into the city?” they asked.

“Last month,” you said, earning a look of understanding from Jay.

“Well,” they said, gesturing at the room around you. “This was a great pit stop in your explorations. We have a ton of events, and I’ve actually met basically all my friends here.”

“Oh yeah?” you probed with a smile, feeling a sense of ease in their presence.

“Yeah, we actually have a couple things going on this weekend if you wanted to check them out,” they said, walking you over to the register so that they could point out the monthly calendar taped to the glass counter. “The last Friday of every month, we have a little mixer, always themed,” they said with a grin. “This month’s theme is Gothic Literature, so we’ll have all of our gothic literature for half off and free wine. Can’t go wrong.”

“That actually sounds like so much fun,” you chuckled, surprised by the way the afternoon was unfolding.

“And then on Saturday afternoons, we have our book club meeting. It’s a group of probably fifteen people, all ages, all types, very inclusive. All you have to do to join is fill out this little “Meet Me” card and purchase the book of the month, but since the month’s almost over I’d just buy it now and get a head start.”

“Well, what's next month’s book?” you asked, following them with your eyes as they jogged around the counter to the display on a table in the middle of the room, picking up a used book and handing it over to you.

“Jane Eyre,” they said. “Have you read it?”

“Oddly enough, I haven't,” you smiled, flipping through the annotated and well loved pages. “Someone sure seemed to like it.”

“Yeah, all of our books are used and scribbled on like that,” they chuckled. “The owner is this old money rich guy who works on the board of the New York Public Library, so most of the books here are either throw-outs from them or donated by the community.”

“Well, that’s a very interesting life to lead,” you chuckled. “Honestly, all of this sounds like so much fun, so…count me in.”

Jay beamed and nodded, ringing up your copy of Jane Eyre that came out to an astonishing total of $2.99.

“I think this just became my favorite place in New York,” you said as you watched them slide your new book into a paper bag before reaching behind the counter to grab your “Meet Me” card. Quickly filling out the basics: your name, age, pronouns, favorite book, favorite movie, and favorite color, you handed over a five dollar bill and moved to leave with the event calendar tucked into your paper bag, but a man walking behind you caught your eye and forced you into lingering.

He was an older guy, his hair graying in patches on his beard and in his brown curls, but he didn’t look any older than forty-something. He was wearing a vintage tee and a pair of well loved jeans, his sneakers just as scuffed. You couldn’t help but admire and fall for his casual coolness, the kind you always tried to emulate and never felt close to nailing.

“Hot date?” Jay teased the older man and earned a smile from him.

“Something like that,” he smiled, not giving you more than a blink of attention. “I’ll be back before closing.”

“Sounds good, Ezra,” Jay nodded, joining you in watching Ezra leave the shop before catching you staring a little too long. “That’s the shop owner.”

“Oh,” you managed, your eyes still locked on him as he stood in front of the building, his eyes glued to his phone as he typed a text. “Figured he’d be older.”

“Yeah, he’s a cool guy. If I hadn’t met him, I’m not sure where I’d be. He gave me this job, let me stay at one of the apartments he owns here when I was homeless…just, really cool guy,” they gushed, a sort of admiration in their eyes that had nothing to do with romance and more to do with respect. “Hopefully you’ll get to meet him properly at the mixer, he’s always there for that unless his godkid’s in town.”

“Well, I’ll be there,” you smiled, albeit bashfully. “It was really nice meeting you, Jay.”

“You too,” they lifted your “Meet Me” card and read your name off with a smile. “Don’t be a stranger!”

When Friday evening rolled around, you found yourself in a full face of makeup and dressed to the nines as some sort of vampiress, your lips stained blood red and body squeezed into a black lace corset and black jeans that left little to the imagination. You weren’t sure why you’d gotten so dolled up to go to a bookstore mixer, but figured if the handsome owner, Ezra, was going to be around, you needed to stand out.

It wasn’t until you opened the door to the shop and walked in that you realized how severely underdressed you were.

“Hey!” Jay beamed, making a beeline for you in their Frankenstein costume, their face painted green. “You actually came!”

“Everyone looks so cool,” you whispered in awe, earning a laugh. “I thought I overdid it.”

“No, there’s no overdoing it here,” they laughed before gesturing at your corset. “The corset is stunning, you’re gorgeous, let’s get you some wine. Red or white?”

“Red seems on brand for the costume,” you said, earning another laugh. “Is, uh, is the owner here?”

“I think so,” Jay said, looking around the room. “He’s dressed as The Phantom.”

“Love that,” you smiled, accepting the glass from their hands. “So, what’s, uh…what’s his deal?”

“Oh, no,” Jay laughed, shaking their head. “He’s single-ish. I’ve seen lots and lots of dates but never a long-term thing.”

“Well, rich and attractive,” you weighed your head to the side. “Why would you want to settle down?”

“I think he’s the type of person that makes a much better friend in the long run than anything else,” they said. “He used to go out with one of my friends a few years back and he said that the best moments were the ones where they were just friends. The romantic aspect of it all left a bad taste in his mouth, I guess.”

“Really?” you asked, too absorbed by Jay’s candor to notice Ezra dressed as The Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera walking past you and out of the shop with a woman dressed up as Marian Halcombe from The Woman In White until they were already outside.

“Yeah, he just…he’s not good at serious stuff. He comes from a long line of divorcee’s and doesn’t really believe that people can have successful long term romantic relationships, at least that’s what Ez told me after they split up.”

“How did you meet him again?” you probed, unsure why this man had taken such root in your mind and piqued your curiosity.

“We met when I was an art student at NYU,” they said. “I had a few pieces in an exhibition and nobody stopped for more than a second to look at my shit except for him. He offered to buy all of my art, and at that time I was female presenting so I just assumed he was a rich creep or something, but over time I realized that he’s just a lonely guy who loves to support young, queer artists in whatever way he can. After graduation, I was broke and in debt and homeless, and the minute he learned I was struggling, he offered to let me live in a studio in the building he owns next door, gave me a job here, helps me network with art dealers and galleries. Really just…has been a great friend and mentor to me. I’ll get choked up if I talk about it too much.”

You watched Jay in awe, the twinkle in their eyes as they spoke of their unique journey and this rich man that could have done what most would’ve done in his position and turned a blind eye at them, but he didn’t. You could see the respect and admiration there, and though the news that this Ezra wasn’t necessarily a great romantic partner dampened the image of him you’d drawn in your mind, the reality of his heart and intentions when it came to his friends only made you want to know him more.

“Anyways,” Jay laughed, wiping the corner of their eye. “He’s a good guy. Just, if you’re looking for romance with him—at least a lasting one—I’d forget about it and just try to get to know him as a friend. There’s really nobody like him.”

“I’m coming to realize that,” you chuckled, putting the image of him in your mind on the shelf so that you could focus on the room around you instead. “Thank you for being so friendly to me, I really like your entire vibe, Jay.”

“I like your vibe too. I think you and I are gonna be good friends,” they said with a smile. “Do you want me to introduce you to some of my friends here?”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

After that night, you had a new set of friends, and a best friend in Jay. This group of eclectic creatives and interesting minds took up most of your time, almost to the point where you didn’t even wonder about their handsome older friend. After a couple weeks of waiting for your chance to meet the mysterious Ezra, you’d become worried that he’d disappeared into thin air, but quickly found out from Jay that he’d only left the city to go upstate and would be back by the start of October.

In the meantime, you continued to explore and try on as many hats as you could. You and the group that adopted you went out to speakeasies and art galleries, you went to museums and comedy shows; Jay even invited you to go volunteer at the women’s shelter they stayed at for a while after graduation.

It was easy to forget the life you lived before this, the faces of your family and friends blurring into the background of the tapestry of your life. You tried not to think about their opinion of you, off running wild in New York City, and while you were able to hush that voice of inherited self-doubt most of the time, you couldn’t manage to silence it when you were all alone. When it was just you in your tiny studio apartment on the third floor of an old, overpriced building, you didn’t feel as invincible as you did around your friends. The thought of becoming an imposter, of abandoning yourself, loomed over you like a constant dark cloud. It took daily reminding from Jay that you weren’t impersonating anybody but the person you felt most comfortable being.

“You’re still you, just a more you you,” they’d say.

You hoped they were right.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra x you #fade into you

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forasecondtherewedwon · 2 months

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seven degrees east - chapter one

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairings: Gale x Bucky; Nash x Helen; more tbd Rating: T (may change) Chapter: 1 / ? Word Count: 3798

Summary: It's 1996. Soundgarden's on the radio, Charles and Diana are headed for divorce, and seven American PhD candidates are studying literature at the University of Thorpe Abbotts in Norfolk, England. Between taking Prof. Harding's summer class and obsessing over their favourite authors, the boys will kick asses when they must, and fall in love if they can.

Spring was about to fall headlong into summer and Bubbles had decided Princess Di was the woman for him. They were all in love with her. Tabloid magazine photos of Diana in black and lavender—torn with care along the crease—decorated the walls of their dorms, overlapping posters for Superunknown and Crimson Tide, pieces they’d had published in the literary journal, and mundane scraps of paper elevated by their status as vessels for the phone numbers of girls they’d met at parties. Naturally, their Princess took supremacy, especially as they expected imminent, official news of her divorce from Charles. Lucky Bubbles.

It was mid-June 1996. They spent their days horny and sunburnt from laying out on the school’s big English lawn. These long stretches of apparent leisure were punctuated by the summer course in which they were all enrolled: “Thoreau’s Walden,” taught by Professor Harding. He was transparently attempting to instill in them a sense of self-reliance alongside an understanding of transcendentalist thought. The class wasn’t mandatory—the rest of their cohort would rejoin them in September—but their small group comprised a brotherhood of dedicated scholars. (Dedicated to having fewer courses to take come fall semester.)

Bubbles was their Great American Novel man, obsessed with Faulkner’s long sentences and Steinbeck’s long books. Crosby envied and lionized his best friend’s focus, but had come to accept that he was irresistibly drawn to the lower-brow, femme-fatale charm of Chandler and Hammett’s hard-boiled novels. Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal was their resident 19th-centuryist, plotting the spread of both his dissertation and his mustache on the fertile—if possibly cursed—intellectual ground of Edgar Allan Poe. Herbert Nash was Rosie’s chronological compatriot. Though he’d begun the doctoral program with a proposed focus on the works of Mark Twain, he had a literary wandering eye for anything that struck him as romantic. In the face of Nash’s flakiness, Curt fought (sometimes physically) for the pure pleasure of reading, but then he was often under the hedonistic, lunar-like sway of Oscar Wilde—a deviation (guided, he claimed, by his Irish heritage) from the later, hedonistic influence of his preferred poison: the Beat Generation.

If their ragtag band of chronic dogear-ers had a leader, it should’ve been Jack Kidd. Kidd was an upper year student, nearly finished with his PhD (unless his PhD finished with him first). He was secretive, perpetually put-upon, and capable of delivering heart-shattering criticism in a tone that made it sound like mercy. In short, he was everything they longed to be. When asked about the subject of his dissertation, he would drop his face into his hands with all the enthusiasm and surrender to gravity of a bridge suicide. In lieu of possessing the middle-aged-divorcé jadedness that seemed to come naturally to Kidd despite his being only 29, the seven younger candidates had taken up smoking the preceding November.

Because they did need a leader to make sure they did things like readings and laundry and correcting their posture after hours spent curled over, under, and around the library’s long oak tables, they had Bucky. And they had Buck, because it was smart to have a backup. “Bucky” was really John, and “Buck” was Gale, and when any of the other five called them out on being pretentious fucks, they would both grin and offer no correction. While John directed his furrowed brow at Lost Generation titans like Hemingway, Stein, and Fitzgerald, Gale was dreamily engrossed in a fin-de-siècle love affair with Henry James. At any given time, at least three of them (including John) were waiting for the pair to realize that who they were actually head over heels for was each other.

They were all students at Thorpe Abbotts—the Norfolk satellite campus of the Connecticut university. They knew people studying Goethe and Voltaire, Tolstoy and Shakespeare and García Márquez, seriously, they did. They just happened to be a collection of Americans reading Americans. In England. For one reason and another, they’d decided to study overseas, intrigued by the allure of matched tuition fees, rainy reading weather, and the proximity to older and fancier universities, which were fun to visit if they were looking to instigate a winnable fight against other easily-provoked academics.

That particular evening, they descended upon a bar favoured by students from the University of East Anglia. John and Rosie had both offered to drive. To decide who’d had to go with John (concealed as who’d wanted to go with John), Crosby had flipped a coin—well, a double-sided Batman pog he’d produced with minor embarrassment after fishing around in his pocket for a coin. As a result, Gale and Curt tumbled from John’s Wrangler (Gale from the passenger’s seat, Curt from the bench in the rear) looking half-drunk already from John’s weaving, lead-footed panache behind the wheel. Rosie pulled up smoothly, with no complaints from Bubbles, who might not have complained even if they’d slid into the parking lot on their roof, Crosby, whose motion sickness had not been triggered, or Nash, who’d ironed a shirt for this outing in hopes of meeting a nice girl. The rest had openly teased him, then tried not to feel self-conscious about their own attire.

“You look like Hugh Grant,” John leveled at Nash when he saw him sweeping his hair back as they made for the bar.

“Thanks.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

Fortunately for Nash, he was impervious to most insults. John knew this and took it as licence to tease him all the more.

“Ladies love Hugh Grant,” Nash reasoned.

“Don’t say ladies,” Curt whined. “Fuck’s wrong with you?”

“The thing Hugh Grant has going for him is he’s British,” John explained.

“And he’s a movie star,” Gale offered, nonpartisan.

“Stellar addition, Buck: and he’s a movie star.” He turned back to Nash. “You’re non-movie-star, American Hugh Grant. Capisce?”

“Don’t say capisce.” Curt took out his frustration on the loose chunk of asphalt he booted across the parking lot.

“Ah, don’t listen to him, Nash,” Rosie instructed, slinging an arm around Nash’s neck and hauling him close so his steps stuttered and skipped.

“You look good, Nash,” Gale said.

“Like a real gentleman.”

“Too bad he’s just Nash disguised as a gentleman,” John lamented with a grin.

Nash cracked a telling smile.

“Whaddaya think, Croz?” John demanded. He looked around and found Crosby and Bubbles trailing them, laughing about something that was part of their own conversation. “Croz! Nash in disguise! This some kinda hard-boiled, sleazy villain shit?”

Crosby shrugged.

“Nash is Nash.”

“Nash is Nash,” Bubbles agreed, and then they were all saying it, speaking over one another, until their voices dropped into sync and it turned into a chant as they shoved into the warmth of the bar.

They fell into a booth together, then forced Crosby and Bubbles back out to get the first round since neither of them had driven and even if you tried to send one without the other, they’d both go anyway, as though attached by a tether. They returned with pitchers.

“Croz got carded,” Bubbles gleefully announced, handing out glasses from the stack in his hand.

Everyone awwwed. Crosby erupted in a flaming blush.

“Don’t worry about it, Croz,” Gale told him. Crosby nodded gratefully, but then Gale tacked on, “When I was your age—”

Crosby’s protestation that they were the same age had Rosie laughing until he had tears in his eyes. He tilted sideways into Nash, who did his best to scoot away.

“I love you Rosie, but I will slash your fucking tires if you wrinkle my shirt.”

This just made Rosie laugh harder.

“You alright to drive back?” John checked with Gale, leaning in to speak quietly below the hilarity.

“I gotcha, man.”

John nudged Crosby out of the booth a second time and came back with a pitcher of water for Gale, who’d smoke weed and cigarettes with the rest of them but drew the line at carbonation. Crosby’s hand hesitated between the pitchers of beer and water.

“I’ll drive,” Rosie assured him, brushing away Crosby’s wordless offer with a wave of his hand.

Crosby looked relieved to be let off the hook. He poured himself a beer.

John pointed at Rosie.

“You’re too damn self-sacrificing.”

“Maybe you’re too sac-selfrificing,” Curt countered, making John twist to face him with an expression of extreme indignation.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna take this outside?” John squared his shoulders. Even though it was all in play, Gale held out his hand, palm down, suggesting they chill out a little. They’d been bounced from this bar before.

“Might as well stay put,” Curt said. “If I knock you on your ass while you’re already sittin’ down, you got less far to fall.”

John smacked the brim of Curt’s ballcap down over his eyes and they broke into a scuffle in the booth, legs scrabbling beneath the table, Curt giggling wildly as he jerked away from John’s hands while protesting that he couldn’t see. Crosby, sitting on Curt’s other side, attempted to right his hat, but ended up having to dodge Curt’s elbow instead.

“Bets?” Rosie asked.

“What’s on the table?” Bubbles wondered. Somebody’s knee slammed the actual table from underneath and Bubbles’ hand shot out to steady his glass. “Figuratively.”

“Losers have to format the winners’ essay citations.”

“That’s not ba—”

Crosby saw Gale whack the back of his hand into Bubbles’ chest to shut him up, but it was too late. Rosie was grinning.

“And type up their essay.”

They groaned. Bubbles, Nash, and Crosby shook their heads, bowing out, but Gale stuck out his hand for Rosie to shake.

“You’re on,” he said.

“Who’s your money on?” Rosie asked.

“Who d’you think?” Nash cut in.

It really was silly to ask; Gale took John’s side in everything, always. Crosby was going to point that out, begin recalling supporting evidence, but John started fighting really dirty—his hands dove to Curt’s sides, tickling hard, and Curt hopped back. Crosby bailed out of the booth and stood.

“Maybe they should take it outside,” Bubbles observed, reading Crosby’s concern on his face before he could voice it.

Just then, there was a scoff: “Typical.”

John ceased his attack on Curt as they turned to look with the others. Curt fixed his hat. There were three guys standing there, just past Crosby, who took a step towards the table to show his allegiance. Like most people they encountered off the Thorpe Abbotts campus, the trio were British. They looked about their age, maybe a little younger, and enough sheets to the wind not to mind that there were fewer of them than members of the group they’d accosted.

The pause after that single word seemed to go on and on. None of the seven had a doubt in their mind that it was a criticism of their behaviour—their Americanness. The Brits would expect them to get angry, to fly from their booth and jab their impolite American fingers in their faces, wet American spittle spraying from their mouths as they shouted rude American words. They didn’t know that this was what these particular Americans did for fun. That even now, in the pause, they were just deciding how they wanted this one to go.

“Can we help you?” Gale asked calmly, while his compatriots wordlessly downed their drinks.

“We’re just fine,” one of them replied. “Try helping yourselves.”

Gale glanced around at his friends as though confused.

“Did one of you need help with something?” he asked.

Curt had just poured himself a second beer. He held up a finger, signally for everyone to wait as he took a long swallow. He sighed in satisfaction.

“I actually do need help,” he said, looking not at Gale but at the Brits.

“Want us to teach you to tie your shoes?” a different one taunted.

“Nah,” Curt said, tone dangerously placid to the ears of his friends. “Nah, got that one figured out. I actually got a question for you: loserssaywhat?”

The first one frowned, head cocking slightly.

“What?”

Rosie guffawed, prompting the change in the trio’s expressions: superior to insulted. Angry. But Curt was beaming. He took another swallow of beer before slowly enunciating, “Losers. Say. What.”

And then he burped so loudly that Crosby, recounting the story to Kidd later that night, would swear it shook the walls.

“That wasn’t part of the question,” Curt clarified.

The strangers surged towards the booth and Crosby got in their way, Bubbles and Gale jumping up too to put a wall between them and Curt.

Gale said one word to them, and he said it like an order: “Outside.”

“Fucking right, outside,” was thrown back at him.

The three on their feet watched the Brits out the door, then turned back to the group.

“Who’s holding down the fort?” John asked.

“Not me,” Curt said. He clambered from the booth and started shadow boxing. As he ducked and wove, eyes fixed on an invisible opponent, John spun his hat around, brim at the back.

“Let’s all go,” Nash said from his spot against the wall. “Nobody’s gonna…”

He trailed off as his gaze landed on something beyond their prizefighting trickster, beyond the inseparable Bubbles and Crosby, beyond the deep-running still waters of Gale. There was a girl. A beautiful girl. Thick, dark hair, talking with another girl Nash barely noticed. As he watched, she laughed. She was even more beautiful when she laughed.

“Actually, I’ll stay,” he amended distractedly. He tilted his head to see around Curt as Curt decided to add footwork to his routine. “The rest of you can fuck off.”

Rosie looked where Nash was looking and smirked.

“Ah, no way, buddy. Wouldn’t leave you here all alone!”

“No more than three of us can go,” John declared. “It’s not…”

“Sportsmanlike,” Gale supplied.

John snapped his fingers and agreed, “Sportsmanlike.”

“I guess it’s you three then,” Bubbles deduced glumly, glancing between John, Gale, and Curt.

“Sure is,” John said, considerably more gleeful. He rose and clapped Bubbles on the shoulder. “Hang tight.”

“But—”

“If you go, Croz’ll come too, and we can’t go five-against-three; they’ll think we’re chickenshits.”

“Who cares about their opinion?” Crosby wanted to know.

“Me,” Curt said. He stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “They hurt my feelings.”

Crosby rolled his eyes.

“Get the fuck outta here.”

“Yeah, and do us proud!” Rosie shouted at their backs as Gale, Curt, and John trekked towards the exit. John pumped his fist into the air.

When they’d gone, Rosie smiled slyly at Nash.

“So. Are we calling her over here?”

“What?”

“YO!” Rosie yelped at the top of his lungs.

The girl, her friend, and a dozen other people in the crowded bar turned their heads, searching for the source of the sound.

“What the hell?!” Nash blurted.

Rosie frowned at him.

“You think she’s pretty, right?”

“Duh. Look at her—”

“MY FRIEND THINKS YOU’RE PRETTY! YEAH, YOU! BLUE SHIRT!”

“If I wanted her to think I was a total jackass—” Nash began.

“You’ll get your chance. I just got you started. Wave her over.”

“You ever think there’s a reason you don’t have a girlfriend?”

Nash slid along the seat until he was free of them all, though Crosby did offer an encouraging thumbs-up.

“Watch and learn,” he called over his shoulder. He locked eyes with the girl—the beautiful girl, who was miraculously staring back at him with an expression of amusement rather than scorn—as he headed her way.

—

Outside, the tension was thickening. The Brits should’ve gotten some kind of points for holding their ground, John thought, because they looked nervous now that he, Gale, and Curt were all on their feet, not folded up in that booth. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders to make himself as big as possible. And he smiled, not as massive as Curt though. That seemed to be pissing them off, maybe making them stay: that Curt was full-on grinning.

“Thorpe Abbott?” the mouthiest of the three asked, like an accusation.

“Abbotts, numb nuts,” Curt corrected.

“What do they grade you with there? Scratch-and-sniff stickers?”

“I wish!” John said. There was a threatening gleam in his eyes.

“You know it doesn’t mean anything when they give you all hundreds right? Your degrees don’t mean shit.”

“It actually does mean something,” Curt said. He suddenly sounded so serious that his friends looked at him from the corner of their eyes. “We go in this special room, ’k? Maybe not so fancy as the rooms at wherever you boys go—”

“East Anglia,” was offered.

Curt nodded.

“Yep, Easy Anglia, whatever. But we go in this room and then—true story—this woman shows up. Like, our dean calls her up to let her know another one of us special boys—”

“Us special American boys,” Gale emphasized.

“—got himself another fuckin’ hundred. Takes her maybe half an hour to show up. And then, guess what, you guys?” Curt looked at the befuddled Brits eagerly. “She blows us.”

Their reaction was a blend of highly skeptical and stunned by the turn Curt’s story had taken. Shit’s sake, Curt, John was thinking. This is gonna be a hell of a fight.

“And, you know, she did mention she had a son,” Curt said measuredly, homing in on the mouthy guy now, “but, damn, you’re her spittin’ fuckin’ image.”

The Brits lunged at them.

—

Nash wanted to ask her to dance, to hold her by the hips and sway along to whatever rhythm she chose. He didn’t care if it didn’t match the beat of the music. He didn’t care that no one else was dancing, or that this wasn’t really a place where people did that. “Helen,” she’d said her name was.

“You read much?” he asked stupidly, but he wanted her to like him more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. More than anyone in the history of humankind had ever even dreamed their descendants could want. The only thing he could think to talk about was books. Talking about books, he could start to sound smart again, reassemble his brain in the background while most of him got lost in Helen’s eyes.

“Yes.”

Nash loved how she said yes. His heart, thumping happily in his chest loved it. The rush of blood to his groin loved it. The sound of “yes” in her mouth. She was American. He tried not to think how easy it would be, the two of them moving back home after school. Or staying here, a pair of expats. Whatever she’d prefer.

“I’m actually studying creative writing.”

“Where?” he asked, starry-eyed.

Her eyes darted to her friend before returning to his face. The reaction said he was being sort of stupid now, but then her expression shifted to something like guilt. She’d felt bad for thinking it. for writing him off so quickly.

“At the University of East Anglia.”

“Oh. So, like, right nearby.”

“Right nearby,” she confirmed. “Hence…” She glanced around. Hence this bar. Hence. Totally. Nash gave her a smile, weak with adoration.

“Why there?” he asked.

“Kazuo Ishiguro studied there. I admire his work.”

“I loved The Remains of the Day.”

Helen smiled at him. The clouds parted. Probably.

“Me too,” she said. “Are you in the arts as well?”

“English,” he told her. “Thorpe Abbotts. Working on my PhD.”

She was sufficiently engaged now that her friend moved off, giving them space.

“What’s your field?”

“American,” he admitted, and she got it, and she laughed. An American studying Americans in England. He shrugged, embracing her reaction.

“Who do you like?”

You. But she’d meant which authors.

“Twain,” Nash said, “and Hawthorne.”

Helen’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! My greatest influences are second-wave. You know, Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem’s exposé on the Playboy Club, obviously…”

“Well, sure,” Nash said, just keeping up as she spoke in an impassioned rush.

“But I love the early feminists too. Hawthorne and Charlotte Perkins Gilman and Alcott.”

“Little Women!”

“It’s probably still my favourite novel of all time.”

For the first time, Nash took a careful, calculated pause, and he gave her a look. A Nash look. It was a look that usually communicated let’s get out of here, but this time, he wanted more. He’d worn the shirt.

“I’ve never met anybody who was as much of a Jo as you are,” he said, meaning it.

It was noisy, but he heard Helen’s pleased gasp. That she was actually an Amy was something Helen had not yet admitted to herself, and so Nash’s compliment hit its target with full effect. He watched as her lips parted—to thank him? to kiss him? to say some other unforeseen thing that would change his life even further? make him feel the earth move under his feet? did she like Carole King?—but there was a hard tug on his elbow.

Nash turned to find Bubbles standing there. He was the one person Nash wouldn’t snap at for interrupting, and the others knew that. He’d been sent.

“I am so sorry,” Bubbles said, addressing Helen. He was beginning to slur his S’s. “I gotta steal him back for a minute.”

“I swear my friends don’t speak for me,” Nash said as Bubbles physically dragged him away from the conversation. “I know it’s happened twice now, but they don’t!”

Was it worth it, to be removed from Helen’s side and brought back to the booth? Nash was surprised to feel that it almost was—almost—when his eyes landed on their smiling trio of champions. Gale had a cut on his cheek where a fist must’ve connected, or at least glanced off; John had the dark promise of a bruise below one eye; and Curt didn’t have a scratch on him. Nash laughed, shaking his head.

“What was he tryin’ to say though?” John was asking.

“Mumbling some shit about our hundreds,” Gale replied. “Our ‘bloody hundreds.’”

“Yeah,” Curt said. “But it was after I’d clocked him square in the mouth. That’s why he was lispin’. ‘Bloody hundredth,’ it sounded like.” He chuckled. “Bloody hundredth.”

“To the Bloody Hundredth,” Crosby proposed, raising his beer.

Rosie passed Nash his refilled glass, then lifted his own for the toast.

“Bloody Hundredth,” the rest of them intoned.

“And to Princess Diana,” Bubbles’ voice rang out when the rest of them had a glass to their lips. “Wherever she may be tonight.”

Crosby adopted an expression of deep solemnity, but Rosie ruined it by snorting into his water.

“Alright, men,” John addressed them. “Back into the booth. We got some fuckin’ drinking to do.”

“Spoken like a true Hemingway scholar,” Gale observed.

John gave him an affectionate smile.

“I try.”

#my writing #Masters of the Air #MotA #MotA fic #Joseph 'Bubbles' Payne #Harry Crosby #Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal #Herbert Nash #Helen (MotA)#Curtis Biddick #Gale 'Buck' Cleven #John 'Bucky' Egan #Bucky x Buck #Gale x John

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halfpintpeach · 8 months

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Professor Neil (sneak peek)

I missed the guy and WIP Wednesday this week brought him back up so here's a lil gift for @jtl-fics for being amazing and closing on a condo today!!

(Snippet includes part of the WIP Wednesday piece in the beginning)

September 16, 2008 (Tuesday)

Tuesday was probably Neil’s favorite day of the week. He only had two classes in the morning and both were lectures that he didn’t mind sitting in. After his lectures, he always went to the small coffee shop that didn’t even serve good coffee, but it was cheap and it was routine. Routines helped and kept him focused. Besides, the coffee shop was the only one that hadn’t tried to demand proof of papers for his service dog. One would think that the prosthetic leg would be proof enough but Neil clearly overestimated the mental capacity of most people.

Armed with subpar coffee and a warm bagel, Neil made his way to the library. The main floor was a communal hub, with no volume limits and plenty of chairs and couches for people to sit on. Tucked on the left side was an open room full of tables, the tutoring center. The woman behind the desk smiled as Neil walked up and wrote down his arrival in a notebook. Neil liked tutoring oddly enough, he didn’t care much for the people, but he enjoyed the subjects and the feeling of someone understanding a difficult concept was hard to beat.

A good chunk of the people who frequented the tutoring center were those who were on big time scholarships and unwilling to risk a dropping a point in the GPA. Hyped up on coffee, Neil often had to fight them away from his preferred table. The largest portion however, were the athletes. All required to maintain a minimum of a 2.3 to play for the NCAA Division 1 league. Neil tutored football players, soccer stars, and dancers every day. For most, as long as they went to their classes and didn’t fail any exams, it was an easy gig. Five hours a week in the tutoring center was a easy gig.

The Exy team was no exception.

Neil had started tutoring Matt Boyd last year, the tall man hopeless with his French courses. His pronunciation was leaps and bounds better, and the backliner was steadily maintaining a passing grade in the class. Languages were difficult for athletes who traveled almost weekly for games.

Thankfully, there was no one at the table Neil had claimed as his own. Despite the years of therapy he still took a table in the back of the room. There were other reasons, which his therapist had been good to point out, the fact that being further back in the room kept his dog focused on the task. Babe Ruth was a large golden retriever who seemed to forget that he had an additional appendage attached to his rump. The dogs tail was a weapon, thumbing hard enough against a leg to leave bruises. It was a disappointing scenario, considering Babe Ruth walk to the right side of Neil—tail smacking against his good leg. At the table, Neil took care to sit with his back to the side wall rather than the back. It was the little things, his reminded himself mentally. By now, his voice in the tutoring center was easily ignored as he commanded Babe Ruth to lay at his feet. The dog wasted no time, flopping onto the hard carpet and splaying out his limbs.

Neil checked his watch, Matt would be arriving in a few minutes. He always came right after his French class. Neil had managed to arrive a little early, so he went ahead and pulled out the workbook and folder that they’ve been using over the semester. This was their fourth meeting and already Neil liked how they were able to review the French that had just been covered in Matt’s class. He made a mental reminder to email his thanks to the French Professor, she’d been helpful in sending Neil her presentations for the classes.

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #andreil fanfic #andrew minyard #neil josten #pint writes #pints wips #professor neil #professor neil josten au #prof neil prequel #service dog #neil has only one leg #I stole it #dont worry there's another teachers AU called neil but with both legs in my docs #I just love this lil guy

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starlightkun · 7 months

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dr_magic2303 ❧ teaser [renjun]

❧ teaser word count: 960 | full fic: 18.3k ❧ warnings: just cursing for the teaser ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but spoilers renjun and reader r both crazy (academically) and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix each other. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too <33

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

⤷ blog masterlist ⤷ anthology masterlist

#renjun #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #huang renjun #renjun x reader #renjun imagine #nct imagine #nct dream imagine #nct imagines #renjun imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #renjun fluff #i: renjun #f: dr_magic2303 #dm: teaser #au: strawberry sunday

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skazoo · 1 year

Text

heat waves.

↳ choi san x f!reader, implied past sakura miyawaki x f!reader

summer sucks and so does your boyfriend. you love him tho, so that's ok.

length. 5.5k

genre. vampire!san, crack, fluff and very little angst (unbelievable)

warnings/tags. language, mention of blood, mention of sex, i think that's it??

networks. @kflixnet

notes. woohoo!!! first ateez fic!!! not much to say i just love popsicle!san ig ALSO i'm so fucking bad at writing description wtf is that?? but also do you get the pun? please tell me you do.

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

san knows you hate summer.

he knows you hate sweating, bugs, air conditioning in shops, and when people say 'it's not so much the heat as the humidity' in those stupid little knowing voices.

san knows you hate summer, and your tossing and turning and whining in your shared bed is the glaring proof of that.

with fond eyes, he watches you inch closer to his body every few minutes. it will inevitably lead you into the familiar position, with your head on his chest and your legs tangled together, you hugging him close to benefit from his gelid skin.

he admittedly gets all giddy and internally giggles like a teenager every time it happens. he’s just glad you’re not awake to catch him in the act for he would not hear the end of it.

san knows you hate summer but he can’t help but love the season for this reason exactly.

the two of you actually met in the middle of ‘one of the hottest summers ever recorded’ and from that moment on, he’s been in all your seasons.

FIRST SUMMER TOGETHER.

moving into a new apartment on the third floor with a narrow stairway and no elevator in the middle of july was possibly the worst decision you’ve ever taken in your entire life, and you’re pretty well known for making wrong choices.

every one of your friends agreed that it was, in fact, a bad decision but you had embarked on the tedious journey knowing it was inevitable and desperately needed.

because honestly speaking, what were the options? were there options in the first place?

picture. you just moved from another country, running away from both your problems and your parents, things which if you think about it now, were one and the same. you’re a freshman in a college you’re surprised you even got into thanks to your messy portfolio. you don’t know anyone, let alone have friends, and sakura miyawaki, who’s apparently the sakura miyawaki —hot junior with a brilliant career ahead of her and a honeyed voice capable of making anyone fall at her feet— bumps into you and spills her iced coffee all over the sweatpants and sweatshirt combo that you call your pajama.

it’s a chilly late september night, you’re coming back to your dorm from a lonely and sad dinner at the convenience store five minutes off campus, and your wide eyes, shivering body, and awkward incapability to form a single, coherent sentence must inspire her so much pity that she essentially begs you to at least allow her to take your dirty clothes to your dormitory’s laundry room. she’s pretty and smells nice, and in your book, that’s more than enough to follow her to the cramped and dusty room with flickering neon lights and a serious mold problem.

you talk the whole night, you dangling your legs from one of the dryers, and she, sitting legs crossed on the ground waiting for your clothes to clean up.

fast forward eight months, and she’s inviting you to live with her after having to hear you whine about your bio-hazard of a roommate for the whole semester. you’re together now, have been for two months or so, and it actually sounds like a good idea until it isn’t.

it doesn’t last too long. you know the first period of living together poses a great challenge to every relationship, you merely thought that yours was going to pass smoothly.

you fight over stupid things more often than not, you say sorry when you’re not supposed to, she feels bad, you have sex, and you are back to square one.

you’re not one to force something that’s not meant to be, disregarding your mental health in the process, and just before summer starts, you break up with her. it's not that surprising when it doesn’t turn out to be something tragic. she’s still your friend, you’re still living together under the same roof. there’s just an invisible wall acting as a boundary between the two of you.

when the summer you so fervently hate and she so animatedly loves finally comes around, your living situation becomes a problem.

she has a new girlfriend, and you don’t resent her one bit. chaewon is pretty and smart and likes summer almost as much as sakura, she’s not the problem per se, it’s just that the small two-bedroom apartment is starting to feel claustrophobic. it’s when, after a month or so, you catch them doing stuff on the couch you and sakura bought together that you decide you have to move out. out of the apartment, out of the relationship.

which brings you to your current situation.

did sakura really have to find happiness in july?

you loudly curse the droplets of sweat that form at the back of your neck only to slowly crawl their way under your tank top, down your back.

you take one look around the small atrium of the old building off campus you consciously decided to move into, then over your shoulder to the heap of furniture sakura so graciously let you take with you, and you’re overcome by the urge to just leave it all on the street, live a refreshing minimalist life, sleep on a mattress on the floor and keep your clothes inside your suitcase forever.

you visibly grimace at how lazy you are, but, in your defense, you were promised assistance, motivation, an annoying cheerleader with a probable undiagnosed OCD hyping you up and telling you exactly how and where to move things.

honestly, seonghwa was such a bitch to bail on you last minute. he should be here helping you (doing everything for you without even noticing because he hates how you do things), not lazing around somewhere (working overtime for mere pennies).

you loudly sigh, hoping he can hear you from the other side of the city before shaking your head to shoo away any counterproductive thought and rolling up non-existent sleeves to finally get to work after almost twenty minutes of sweet and pure procrastination.

starting going up and down the steep stairs, you think that maybe you were just being a tad bit overdramatic. yeah, you’re still sweating like a pig and your hair still uncomfortably sticks to the back of your neck, but you’re working relatively quickly and you’re finally seeing progress! who needs help? from a man, nonetheless? seonghwa can go to hell with his big words like irresponsibility, laziness, immaturity, and weaponized incompetence that he throws at you every time you beg him to help you with something.

this little emancipated-woman moment lasts for about an hour when you realize how right your best friend actually is in calling you dumb, and the real reason for everything going so smoothly and without that much of an effort finally reveals itself. having moved all the useless and light things first, your bigger furniture remains sitting on the street, tanning under a bright summer sun.

now you stand alone at the top of the first flight of stairs. a wanderer above a sea of silence and embarrassment. the bed structure you just left tumbling down the steps with a loud noise after trying to dangerously drag it to your apartment on your own, stares at you mockingly.

and yet, the only thing you can think about is that when it fell, the headboard banged against the staircase wall and didn’t leave any mark, so at least the old building is not made of cardboard and won’t fly away at the next thunderstorm in a wizard of oz type of fashion.

two floors above you a door slams open and a deep, angry voice cascades on you from the heavens, judging for your sins and damning you to an afterlife of suffering in the fiery pits of the equivalent for stupid people of hell.

“what the fuck is happening in this forsaken building!? some people are trying to sleep, for fuck’s sake!”

you hear him before you see him but nothing about his voice could have prepared you to witness the hunk of a man hurling himself down the stairs to see your crouched and sad form pitifully sitting on the last step of the stairs, knees close to your chest and eyes looking at the consequences of your actions through fissures of your hands pressed in shame on your face.

you know he’s standing behind you from the furious huffs coming from his nostrils every two or three seconds, and you slowly —comically, under other circumstances— turn your head to look at him, hovering over you, blazing glare pinning you down.

“was it you? who- what are you doing?”

“i dropped my bed…”

he passes an aggressive hand through his dark hair. “what the fuck does that mean?”

you silently point to the furniture at the bottom of the stairs, resigned eyes staying on his confused face.

“how did- you woke me up. i just fell asleep.”

“it’s almost noon.” you point out. “and it’s tuesday…”

he presses his lips in a thin line seemingly getting where you’re coming from.

then it dawns on you. almost too obvious considering the people you hang out with. “oh my god don’t tell me- you’re a vampire?”

“i am- wait- how did you- and why do you sound disappointed, what the fuck?”

you shake your head dismissively. “oh, it’s not you, i swear. i just thought i’d meet a normal person for once.” your attention is back to your bed, assessing how to bring it to the third floor and missing the man’s shocked expression. if they could, his eyes would pop off their socket.

“for once?”

you shoo his disbelief away with a wave of your hand, leaving him gaping at you like a fish out of water. “i’m- who are you?”

you simply shrug. “oh, i’m YN. i’m moving here.”

he’s funny, you think. right hand propped on his hip, left hand massaging the bridge of his nose while he takes deep breaths, he looks just like the old lady that lived down your street when you were little, and that had something to say every time you and your brothers played outside.

“are you okay? do you need to sit down?” you gently pat the space near you on the step you’re sitting on. a worried smile playing on your lips.

he glares at you from over his hand and scoffs loudly. “look, i really don’t know how you know, but i am a vampire and i do need to rest every once in a while. so just- just do what you have to do but do it quietly.”

you frown as he turns around, surely intent to barricade himself back into his house.

is he really going to make you ask for it?

you have to bury all your pride —which at this point is not a lot– to stop him from leaving. “can you help me?” a whisper that you know he hears loud and clear as his head snaps back to you and his body stills halfway up the first flight of stairs.

“what?”

you feign innocence, looking at everything but him. “what?”

his face contorts weirdly, and you don’t understand if he’s about to cry his eyes out in front of you out of frustration or scream at your face before snapping your neck and going back to sleep like this is just another tuesday for him. what you do not expect is the loud snort that he lets out like you just said the most hilarious thing ever.

he looks at you again with the neighbor-lady pose and a surprised smile on his lips. “you want me to help you?”

you shrug, admittedly a little bit embarrassed at the condescending tone he’s using. you feel like a child before him, and in terms of years on this earth you probably are. “well-” you point at the furniture you just dropped down the stairs ”-the bed is not going to bring itself up the stairs and we clearly established that i’m not physically capable of doing it alone, so…”

he cocks his head and blinks blankly at you.

“you want me to say please? because i will-”

“say please.” he cuts you off and graces you with a smug smirk.

it’s hard to be annoyed when his voice sends a weird shiver down your back. “please, will you be so generous and help me bring the heavy stuff up these ridiculously steep stairs? like really, why are they so-”

“yes, dear neighbor. i will help you. thank you for asking so nicely.” and before you can say anything else, he’s already picking up the bed structure and carrying it up to your apartment without breaking as much as a sweat, and you’re left to stare at him at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded and admittedly a little attracted to this weird man too.

in no time the unsurprisingly strong vampire has managed to clear the street of your possessions and is now awkwardly standing in the middle of your small apartment, seemingly waiting for you to send him on his way.

“everything is here,” you state matter-of-factly, nibbling nervously at your lower lip and rocking on the balls of your feet.

he nods his head once and when you don’t say anything else, he looks at you with confused eyes. “do you need me for anything else or…?”

you’re quick to shake your head and offer him a thankful smile. “thank you, though.”

“no problem.” another beat of weird silence. “then i’ll… i’ll go,” he bids you a polite goodbye and starts walking to the door before you stop him with a shy hand on his cold forearm and a look that’s hopefully conveying how truly thankful you are for his help. without him you would still be sitting on the stairs wallowing in self-pity, waiting for a tired seonghwa to put you back in a tranquil state of mind.

“hey, i just wanted to- i really am sorry, okay? for waking you up, i mean, but i really hate summer and- and my friend seonghwa says i’m dumb, and he’s right because why the hell did i even try to drag the bed up the stairs alone? but he says that i have a problem with logical thinking and that i do stupid shit because of that, so maybe that’s why…? and he also says i’m a public danger and that i don’t read social cues, and that i say things to people and don't even realize it and- and i asked if you were a vampire and maybe i offended you and-”

“sounds like a shitty friend to me.” the cute smile on his lips makes you literally melt where you stand, and you’d be at a loss for words if you didn’t have a best friend whose reputation you have to save just after ruining it.

“no! i swear he’s the best! he’s- he's my voice of reason and- you know what, you should meet him, look i’ll call him now.” you reach for your phone in the pack pocket of your pants.

“YN.”

you stop halfway through clicking on seonghwa’s contact. “yes?”

he laughs a little. “it’s really not that deep, okay? i was just tired and i made it bigger than it actually is. so you don’t have to worry about it, and please don’t call your friend.”

“okay…”

a small satisfied nod, and he’s ready to go back to sleep, hopefully before the day ends.

“wait!”

he turns around yet again. his furrowed eyebrows and the small pout of curiosity on his mouth make you want to touch his face, just to feel if it’s soft or not.

“do you… do you want to stay? i have blood if you want.”

he chokes on spit and you bite your cheeks to keep from bursting out laughing.

when he’s back to functioning normally he considers the invitation and nods slowly, following you to the small kitchen table he just took up the stairs.

he sits on one of the two chairs and looks at the almost empty refrigerator. some bags of blood, a carton of almond milk, and some weird bottles that san thinks he's seen before at hongjoong's place, the witch usually brewing the potions to help with his friends' hangovers. just who are you friends with?

“how did you even bring the fridge here?”

you put a full glass of red liquid with a bright yellow straw in front of him. “it was already here when i came to take a look around. did your apartment not have one?”

he hums to confirm while taking a small box out of the pocket of his hoodie, and you can’t contain the amused gasp you let out.

“do you have fake fangs?!”

he puts something in the box and closes it, glaring at you with an offended hand on his chest. “my fangs are very much real, thank you. this is just my retainer.”

your laugh comes out before you can stop it, and he just sits there, in your packed apartment, a hurt frown on his pale face, aggressively sipping blood like a wronged child.

san knows you hate summer, but he’s happy that sakura miyawaki decided to find happiness in july.

SECOND SUMMER TOGETHER.

“hwa, i swear i’m okay, alright? it was a busy day at work and i forgot to charge it. i’m sorry i didn't answer your calls. i know you were worried.” phone balanced between your right cheek and shoulder, you maddeningly fish for your keys in your work bag to unlock the entrance door of the old, silent building.

it’s almost one in the morning, the family with the little kid on the fourth floor and the two old couples on the first have been asleep for at least three hours, and you’re trying to keep your late-night noises to a minimum, climbing the stairs on your tiptoes and being careful to not let your keychain clang against the metal railing.

when you reach the second floor and you realize that you forgot your very late dinner in your car parked fifteen minutes away because you couldn’t find a spot near the apartment, that’s when your resolve crumbles under the stress and the tiredness, taking you with it in the process.

with a quick, strangled goodbye to seonghwa, you hang up the phone and loudly plop down on the last step of the first floor, just in front of a familiar door. head in your hands, tears of frustration collecting on your lower lash line.

to say that you’re ready to give up would be an understatement.

if someone had told you you’d be going to university in the morning, work the first job after lunch, study, and then work your second job till after midnight and still not be able to pay rent without delays, you wouldn't have moved out of sakura’s apartment. hell, maybe you wouldn’t have moved out of your childhood home.

that’s actually a lie and you know it but these last few horribly hot and humid days have been making you question if you actually are as strong as you’ve always thought yourself to be. forgetting dinner in the car was just the last, short straw, that caused the tolerance for the frantic pace you’ve been living at to overflow, drowning you in doubts and paranoia.

you hear the door behind you slowly open but your head remains in your hands while tears silently make their way down your reddened cheeks.

“hey, baby.”

you let yourself smile through the pain at his calm voice and silly pet name you love to hate.

“hi, sannie…”

“are you okay?”

still not looking at him, you slowly shake your head no, missing the fond look that takes on his features.

“what’s the problem?”

you scoff. your life right now is just a bunch of problems in a trenchcoat, where do you even begin to tell him what’s wrong?

“if you turn me into a vampire do you think it’ll count as dying according to my life insurance policy?”

he laughs while leaning his side against the door frame, arms crossed and defined biceps standing out in his ‘this is the skin of a killer’ tank top…?

“what are you w-”

“i lost a bet to yeosang.” he closes his eyes in embarrassed contemplation.

“what-”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

you raise your hands in defeat, biting your lower lip to suppress a laugh. your exhausting frustrations are almost completely forgotten. “okay… killer.”

he groans loudly. “look, i was going to ask you if you wanted to talk about it but apparently bullying me is all it takes to feel better.”

you chuckle. “for being centuries old you sure are such a baby, sannie. yes, i want to talk about it, maybe just not where we can wake everyone up?”

he throws one last glare at you before turning and inviting you into his home. “did you have dinner?”

you take off your shoes and unceremoniously drop yourself on the fancy couch in his big living room. “nope. that’s one of the reasons i was crying, actually.”

without saying anything he gets to work at the stove he apparently uses just for you. “don’t they let you eat before you start your shift? i heard you talking to seonghwa.”

“were you eavesdropping, sannie?”

he shrugs. “i hear everything that happens here. i can’t just plug my ears every time someone’s on the phone.”

you chuckle at his old man antics. “they’d let me eat but i barely make it on time every day. i go there directly from the library, i just don’t have time.”

a small hum to signal that he’s listening.

“the problem is,” you start, popping your head from behind the headrest of the couch to look at him work his magic on your food, “that even if i kill myself at work every damned day, i’m still not able to live without worries. if i want to eat i can’t pay rent on time, and it’s fucking tiring.”

“stop renting and just buy.”

silence.

you stare at the back of his head, and he must notice because he turns around with a questioning look on his face. “what?”

“‘just buy’? really?” you deadpan, “respectfully and all, but when you bought this apartment they were still using goats to buy stuff, san. that’s why you live in a huge ass house while i barely can afford a glorified closet.”

he turns to his stove muttering under his breath that he’s ‘not that old’.

you plop back down on the soft cushions. “i just want to be able to live the life i know i am worthy of. i work hard, i study hard, and i can’t even sleep without being scared of getting thrown out on the streets. and on top of that, my AC is not working and every time i step foot into that nightmare of an apartment i’m always on the verge of throwing myself out the fucking window.” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “i just wish something deus ex machina-style would happen to me to get me out of this misery.”

“you could come live with me.”

san hears you fall off the couch and on your ass.

“what?”

he switches off the stove and walks to his mahogany table at the center of the room, telling you that dinner is ready.

“i have a lot of spare rooms. you could come to live here, start saving some money for the life everyone who loves you knows you deserve.”

he always speaks like everything is so simple and while after you just met him it was sure to make your blood boil, over time it has become something to help you ground yourself when you feel you’re starting to spiral.

“i- but you’ve lived alone for so much time maybe-”

“maybe it’s time to switch it up, don't you think? besides, i like spending time with you and you have a concerning amount of blood coming directly to your door every friday, so if it makes you feel better i’m also taking advantage of you a little.”

you snort loudly, a moved blush creeping up on your still tear-stained cheeks. “i don’t know what to say, sannie.”

he smiles at you. his dimples seem to melt your resolve every time.“then shut up and come eat before it gets cold or i’m gonna give it to you for breakfast when you wake up tomorrow.”

“i’m coming, wait a second…”

he curiously watches as you quickly type on your phone. “are you telling seonghwa?”

you shake your head without looking at him. “asking yeosang if he has another one of those shirts.”

he throws a napkin at you while grumbling something about ‘regret’ and ‘welcoming a bully into his home’.

san knows you hate summer and his AC works perfectly so it was just logical to have you move in. right?

THIRD SUMMER TOGETHER.

you huff loudly, putting on every single piece of silver jewelry you own for your date night with your boyfriend —your dramatic flare making you dig for the accessories in the far back of your closet where you hid them when you started going out with him almost a year ago— and even if you’re not moving much, you can feel a sticky film of sweat start to form on the many exposed parts of your body that your clothes don't leave up to the imagination.

“babe. c’mon.” san deadpans from the door of your shared bedroom; a safe distance between him and the threat your accessories pose to him. his hands propped on his waist and a cute pout frowning his pretty lips.

you don’t acknowledge him in the slightest, and he closes his eyes solemnly; your lucky guess is that he’s counting to ten in his head just like how you taught him to do when he gets angry at wooyoung’s stupid teasing. then he speaks slowly, carefully, “so… just to check, you know… you’re angry at me because-”

before he can finish you snap your head in his direction with an unbelieving look. your earrings catch the light from the lamp in front of you and you can see san glare at them with not-so-subtle disdain. “san!”

his arms shoot up from his hips and his shoulders tense up in an exaggerated shrug. “what?! i just want to understand! are you going to blame me for it?!”

“fuck yes i am! it’s been a week, san! i’ve been talking about tomorrow for a week, and you don’t even remember?! how am i supposed to take it?!”

“okay, but what is tomorrow?!”

“just say you’re sorry!”

he dramatically gasps, holding a hand to his chest in offense, and you have to roll your eyes because you know that from his stubborn point of view, you just asked the unimaginable.

you just told him to walk in the sun without his protective amulet; you ordered him to feed on a puppy; you had the nerve to ask him if he could sell his original pikachu illustrator pokemon card for you to buy other silver jewelry. you horrible, beautiful creature, how could you.

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to be sorry for! i can’t apologize every time someone tells me to! i have a reputation!”

you scoff while applying your mascara in the mirror. “yeah, the reputation of being insufferable,” you mutter under your breath.

“i heard tha-”

“oh, i know! of course, you heard that, but apparently, you didn’t hear what i have been annoying all our friends with for a full week. even mingi knows what tomorrow is!”

he raises a finger, clearly offended by the fact that mingi of all people, stands on a step above him in your imaginary staircase of respect, and is about to say something before he just stops, lips in a thin line and eyebrows in a confused frown.

you look at him as he mentally scrambles to find in his vast memories what exactly you're talking about, and you can’t stop yourself from thinking that he looks so cute, flustered like this. not an immortal being at all. you do your best to suppress a smile.

after all, you physically need to keep playing with him a little more.

you’re not really that upset with him if you have to be completely honest. tomorrow is not as important as you’re making it out to be, but your fatal flaw is pettiness and you’ll die on the hill you’re finally standing on. you’ve been waiting so long for him to be the one to forget something important it’s not even funny at this point.

since you’ve met the vampire, you’re the only one who’s ever had to apologize and beg for forgiveness for missing "important" dates like his death anniversary (you weren’t even together at the time! who just remembers something like that!?), his party for the 233rd year from the french revolution (...), and your third monthiversary (in your defense you didn’t even know it was a thing), and he has always looked at your internal panic with the fakest annoyance and a small, smug smile.

he loved and still loves watching you come up with dumb excuses, and you just want- no, you need to feel what it’s like to possess such immense power.

while he contemplates all the choices that led him to this exact moment, you finish getting ready —spraying the expensive perfume he got you for your birthday— and wait for him to say something, anything. your arms crossed and an expectant expression on your blushed face.

one more minute of waiting and he sighs exasperatedly, his head shaking slightly in resignation. “alright, look–” arms reaching in your direction and palms out, you know from the soft smile that plays on his rosy lips, that he’s ready to make you win this time– “i’ll try harder to remember after dinner. you’re right, and i’m sorry for forgetting something important to you.”

victory.

he moves to gently unclasp your crossed arms, and you barely manage to escape his touch with an alarmed expression.

“what? what is it? i said i’m sorry.” he looks so lost and so cute you want to forget the date and cuddle him till one of you falls asleep. but you opt for an airy laugh and start taking off your jewelry.

“i've got silver all over me, sannie. apparently, not even that can keep you away, uh?”

he cackles, and once you’re free from the shackles that keep you away from him, he doesn’t waste time hugging your waist, effectively gluing you to his body. “oh, but baby, what’s a little pain compared to how much i already burn for you? i’d endure hell and what comes after that, marry you in a church if it meant i’d be able to hold you like this forever.”

stupid san and his old-man slick talk. stupid san and his honeyed, deep voice. stupid san and his love declarations on friday evenings after you fake-fight and makeup.

you hide your face in his neck. your blush creeps from your cheeks down your neck, and your next words are small, shyly mumbled against his cold skin that’s giving you some needed, sweet relief from the hot, humid air sticking to your skin and making you go crazy. “stop… we’re gonna be late for dinner…”

he chuckles, places one swift kiss on your forehead, and lets you go, albeit reluctantly. “speaking of which. what are we eating?”

“italian.” you run past him and out of your bedroom with a high-pitched giggle before you can see the bewildered and seriously affronted look on his handsome face.

“ARE YOU STILL ANGRY AT ME?! TALK TO ME!”

san knows you hate summer just like he can’t physically stand garlic so he doesn’t take well to your teasing.

FOURTH SUMMER TOGETHER.

san knows you hate summer and you love him.

he wishes it could be summer all year long so you’d always look for his cold body when you can’t fall asleep during hot nights and hum in contempt as he mindlessly caresses your face. when it’s winter he wishes summer could come faster so he can finally feel the years pass. so he can finally see you grow and flourish and become more beautiful every time the earth does another lap around the sum.

san knows you hate summer but he looks at you strangling his body in your hold like your life depends on it, and he can't help but thank fate or whatever it was that made you drop your bed down the stairs four years ago. he thanks seonghwa for bailing on you. he thanks you for being so enticingly weird and having friends who are just like him.

san knows you hate summer but another year with you adds another sweet and sweaty meaning to his immortal existence.

#ateez x reader #san x reader #choi san x reader #atz x reader #kflixnet #vampire au #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #san x you #san x y/n #ateez x you #ateez fic

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