#you’re actually twelve years older than me? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theemporium · 2 months

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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)

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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious.

In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.

Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days after the party, with a message from you on his screen.

cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?

cherry🍒: also my place or yours?

He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality.

hockey boy: i cannot promise anything

hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…

hockey boy: he’s nosy

hockey boy: and annoying

Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.

cherry🍒: my place it is then

cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)

He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.

Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance).

However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Jack.”

“You’re not sick or anything?”

“I’m literally fine.”

“Because we can tell the trainers—”

“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.”

“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”

But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.

Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?”

Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”

“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?”

Jack snorted in response.

Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted.

He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves.

But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day.

It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.

Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it.

However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out.

But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.

…

Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.

“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.

Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”

“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.

Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?”

“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”

Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.”

Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.”

He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”

“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again.

“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice.

“Not sure.”

“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?”

“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”

Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.

He frowned. “What?”

“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”

His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”

“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him.

“Do I need to give you a curfew?”

“Fuck off!”

He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.

His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with.

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode.

He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.

“You’re early,” you noted.

Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it.

But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.

“You still like Coke, right?”

His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.”

He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you.

“Your place is really nice—”

“Tell me about hockey.”

Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.

“What?”

“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated.

“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion.

“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.”

Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.”

“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze.

He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”

You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”

He blinked. “There is?”

“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?”

Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”

“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.”

Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born.

“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”

“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.

“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.”

“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words.

Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”

“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?”

He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused.

And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again.

“You watched some videos before I came?”

“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.

He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?”

Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?”

In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”

“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.

“Oh?”

“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.”

“My training?”

“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.”

His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—”

“Can I kiss you?”

He blinked. “You’re asking me?”

“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.”

“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer.

“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.

Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.

You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you.

And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss.

Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow.

“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again.

“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?”

Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.”

“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.

Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.”

“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”

“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod.

“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.

He swallowed. “Oh.”

You raised your brows. “This good?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?”

“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.”

And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest.

His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.

And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you.

Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire.

“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”

His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”

“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.”

The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red.

“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”

And it was too much.

The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white.

His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it.

And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—”

“For what?”

“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.”

You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?”

His stomach twisted a little.

“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.”

He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…”

“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”

His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.”

You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”

Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.

“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”

He raised his brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.”

And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response.

And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food.

It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy.

It made his head spin, in a good way.

And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you.

You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend.

But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised.

You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend.

Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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pupcuck · 4 months

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STAY SOFT, GET EATEN !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. p in v, incest, dub-con that is basically non-con idk

note. unedited cuz i got lazy omg. umm ignore typos :3 sorry my writing is so jolty lately im finding it hard to write so it’s all coming off very clunky but :3 rbs n feedback appreciated !! this is like not actually that smutty I’m sorry 💔 if u see me reusing bits from other old fics pretend it’s new

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

Your dad is hot, an indisputable fact. He’s a total babe, kinda looks like he should’ve been in Baywatch during his prime, got a rack that rivals C. J. Parker’s. Ever since you hit twelve, and the girls in your class suddenly got all boy crazy, you’ve been hearing nonstop about how cute dad is.

Sleepovers were held at yours so they could get a glimpse of him, and your dad might be friendly, but he’s clumsy with conversation, not much of a talker, so he made himself scarce. Then came the slew of questions, you think it was Ashley Graham, the one that didn’t know how to quit it. Airheaded with eyes like chipped peridot.

Hey, where’s your mom? Is she still around, I’ve never heard about her? What kinda girl does your dad like?

My dad doesn’t like kids, freak.

He might, and I’m not a kid! I mean, I turn thirteen in January. I bought a bra at PINK the other day, I even got measured, the lady said I’m an A cup.

Even my dad's are bigger than that, loser.

I’m, like, so not a loser! My mom said I could get a boob job when I turn sixteen, and by then your dad will be, like, what? Thirty?

He’ll be forty-three, dumbass.

Yeah, forty-three, that’s perfect. We can date then as long as you don’t have a mom. I did see a picture on your desk, but that’s your sister right? ‘Cause if that’s your mom, she never picks you up from school, so she’s either dead or they broke up or she hates you, right? I’m so right, aren’t I?

You’re wrong, stupid. My mom just works a lot.

Boo, I totally thought she was dead, well, whatever, if they break up by the time I hit sixteen, I’ll totally be your new step-mom.

For a lack of better words, you wanted that bitch dead. She meant well, you’ve just never met someone so out of touch, the type of girl that hands out Chanel handbags at the food bank.

A few years later, when you turned eighteen, it was Ada Wong, you had this co-dependent, whirlwind friendship that had you by the throat. She was cool, a few years older, and everyone thought she was hot. You were lame, and wanted everyone to think you were hot. What you don’t understand is how on earth it ended with her hand down the front of your dad’s pants at your graduation party. He was totally out of it too, she took advantage of a poor, drunk old man, and the worst part about it? That wasn’t what made you mad. Not that she touched him when he was slurring, tripping over his own feet, you were mad ‘cause she got to touch him in the first place.

When you tell your counsellor, I have a crush on my dad, she falters. She’s this older lady that reminds you of your Auntie Claire, they have the same button nose, and that makes it harder to talk to her. She presents herself professionally, and takes herself a little too seriously, also in the way Auntie Claire does at times. Bitch thinks she’s a psychologist. She has an office tucked right into the corner of your university’s humanities department.

“Well, is your dad absent?” She starts, chews on the lid of her ballpoint pen, the type you get in a pack of two hundred. See, if she were a real psychologist, she’d have a fancy one, with runny ink, and a metallic barrel.

“No, my dad raised me.” Your lips twitch upwards, wanting to scowl at her. ‘Cause this is your thirteenth session, and she knows how close you are to dad.

“Well, then, has your dad ever hit you?” She blinks real slow like it hurts to blink.

“What? No, never.” You’ve asked me these questions before, you stuck-up cow.

“Well, then,” Her eye twitches, you think she might report you to the authorities for being a freak, “Has he ever behaved inappropriately with you?”

The worst your dad has done is ask if you’re on birth control, only once, and he was rightfully worried. “Never, he would never do that.” I don’t know if you’ve been listening, I’m the one that wants to sit on his dick.

She taps her nail on the oak desk, popping open a button on her blouse. Some counsellor she is, mouth drying up ‘cause you have a crush on your dad. “Listen, if it’s not me overstepping boundaries, or being impolite, I’d like to refer you to a therapist.”

No fucking way. Jackpot. You’ve been waiting three months for this, all it took for her to cut the crap was an incestual confession? Although, you really do need to get that fixed, there’s this part of your brain, the cerebellum you believe, that’s been cut out and replaced by a hunk of meat that resembles your father. Whoever did it made a shoddy malpractical mess that you’re left to clean up with scarce supplies and medical knowledge.

“I'd really appreciate that.” You tell her, mustering your toothiest of grins as you pack up your shit and pass through the doorway, never to turn back to advice that consists solely of ‘talk it out’ and ‘use daily affirmations’ and other baseline shit they cover in Cosmopolitan articles you could read for free.

Therapy turns out to be no help. Not ‘cause of the content of the session, this is your first one actually, more ‘cause your therapist resembles dad. A little more on the polished side than your father, with salt and pepper hair that would look so good on him. Leon refuses though, to grow old, that is, to look anything more than thirty - he’s far past that, you think he’s looked old ever since you were born.

It’s going to be a distraction, you might leap out of your seat and fuck this man half to death if he scoots his chair any closer, if he keeps scratching his chin in the way dad does. There’s a copy of Nineteen-Eighteen-Four on the desk behind him, the one with the fabric cover to be specific, embellished by tiny labouring hands to sit pretty on the best-seller shelf in some overpriced independent bookstore. More importantly, it’s the copy that collects dust on your dad’s bedside, the one he insists to have read, but the pages still have that fresh scent to them, and not a single one is dog-eared.

There’s a ring on his ring finger, just like dad’s, and that might be a stretch, ‘cause every married man has a ring on their ring finger. Still reminds you of dad though. His is gold, and dad’s is silver ‘cause mom likes silver. You like silver ‘cause it looks pretty on dad.

He introduces himself, his way of speech is refined, and you can tell he thinks before he speaks unlike dad. Leon is clunky with words, oftentimes crude without realising. Cancellation and no-show fees, your rights, confidentiality, he runs you through all of it - the whole time you’re focused on his lips, the prominent curve of his Cupid’s bow, the double lip line that makes them appear fuller from afar. Just like dad’s lips.

The receptionist frowns when you request to see another therapist, then she begins to click, click, click away at her keyboard. She stops midway to file her nails, then she pops her gum and gives a very simple shake of the head, ponytail moving with her. You doubt the slow bitch even tried, so you make your way home, a heat in your stomach that refuses to fizzle out, an ache so deep only dad could reach it. With his dick, obviously.

Dad’s keys jingle and you hear wedding bells. You check the time, he’s home early, he toes off his shoes and tucks them into the cubby hole shelf mom placed by the door. She’d be down his throat if he left them scattered for her to trip over again.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Leon smiles kindly, the same smile that’s seen you throughout your life. The one he gave you when he first held you, the one he gave you when you fell off your bike, and he brushed the crumbly gravel off your knees and kissed the tender scrapes on both. When you graduated, and he held back tears but acted all tough about it, he smiled all the same.

“Hi, dad.” The one you give in return is meek, the apples of your cheeks refusing to raise upwards into your eye-line.

“Oh,” Dad is perceptive, he throws his jacket over the bannister, keys tucked into one of it’s unzipped pocket - they dangle haphazardly, and you’re sure he’ll forget about them and toss that jacket in the washing machine, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shrug Leon’s hand off of your shoulder when he takes the seat adjacent to you. It’s cruel, the expression on his face sours, your heart lurches. Making him upset is your farthest intention, you just don’t know how much skin to skin contact you can handle with him.

Nonetheless, it was the wrong move, ‘cause he shuffles closer, “Hey now, don’t push me out, what’s wrong?”

“Dad, I promise, nothing's up.” You aim to soothe him with your words, but his agitation grows, your discomfort is palpable - he tastes it on his tongue, it’s the blood in the back of his throat. There’s no getting past him. “Therapy was bad.” No harm in telling a lie or two.

“Therapy,” Leon waves his hand through a nonexistent cloud of smoke, “You don’t need that.”

Here we go. All you need is a hug from dad! A kiss from dad. And you’ll be all better, sweetheart.

“I do, dad.” You glare at him, he smooths his thumb over your wrinkled brow and your heart drops to your ass. Dad needs to stop touching you before you touch him back, that’s a silent threat, your fingers twitch to grab him, mould his soft flesh into the shape of your fingertips.

“I did a good job with you,” Leon states, “My dad—“

My dad hit me, my dad threw me through a glass table once, busted my ass and made me crawl through the shattered glass and then he set wild dogs on me - your grandma just watched - I been through all that and I don’t need to go to therapy. He says something along those lines, albeit less cinematically thrilling.

“You did a very good job with me,” You nod, reassure him in a maternal tone almost ‘cause all dads are children that need to be praised, “It’s not your fault, dad, I love you lots.” Well, it is, for raising you so well, maybe he raised you too well. Or maybe you’re just a bit sick in the head, or maybe it’s his fault for looking how he looks.

“Then you don’t need therapy,” He sinks back into his dent in the leather couch, “You just need a hug, bring it in, kid.”

No, no, no. You do your best to fend him off, all for his own sake, but he draws you close to his chest, smothers you by pushing your face right into the dip. He smells good, cologne gradually having worn off as the day progressed, the slightly tangy undertone of his sweat coming through.

“And a kiss.” He coos at you, pinches your cheek, clicks his tongue in an attempt to coax you.

God, no. Don’t kiss me. Don’t do that— Mwah! Smack bang on your forehead as he tips your chin upwards, blinking down at you with sticky toffee lashes. And you, stupidly, in your lovestruck haze, pull him in to place the most disgusting, sloppy kiss on his lips - one that does little to hide your ardour for dad.

Leon’s neck almost snaps with how fast he pulls back, then he stares at you open-mouthed, and you hate to say it, but you’d kiss his lips swollen again. A man of his age, especially your father, should not be pretty or doll-lipped, but he is and you hate it. He’s your hamartia of sorts.

“Sweetheart…” Dad shambles aimlessly through his words, umming and ahing.

“Oh, god, you totally think I’m a freak, right?” You take your hands off of his chest, where they had been firmly planted, giving him a real good squeeze without even realising. “Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it just came out, you were just really close to me and I got nervous.” Now you sound like him, a lack of conversational tact is exactly what you got from dad.

“No, it’s alright, it’s okay, sweetheart, just give dad a minute.” He pats your shoulder, then he stands up, about to march on forward to grab his keys and leave. You know your dad, so you take his wrist in your hand, beg him to face you.

“Dad… I’m sorry, can you look at me?” You add a ‘please’ in the most desperate tone you can manage, brows slanting downwards as your bottom lip trembles.

Leon struggles to do so, his arm flexes when he tenses, stiffening in your grip. He sits back down when you begin to sniffle, too lamb-hearted to sit through your fit of tears. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Dad rubs your back, but he avoids moving his face close like he usually would, this is his cue to kiss the tears from your cheeks, but he doesn’t.

“It’s not, dad,” You hiccup, choking on an ugly sob that manifests into an even uglier yelp, “I didn’t mean to do that, I’m just really lonely.”

“Baby,” Leon’s voice is sweet like a glacé cherry, “I didn’t know you were feeling like that, I didn’t know you were lonely.”

You are, but that’s not why you kissed dad. You kissed dad out of your own free will, ‘cause you’re in love with him. “I am really lonely, dad, I don’t know what to do.” The snot and tears don’t bother him, he wipes it away with the back of his hand. You’re his baby, you know that. So if he can do that, why can’t he fuck you? It’s ugly in the same way, he’ll wipe his load off your stomach instead, or your ass if he wants to take you from the back.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can— we can fix that, I promise.” The only thing you need him to fix is the leak you’ve sprung, plug it up or whatever. “There’s no use cryin’ about it, alright? Dad doesn’t like seeing you cry.”

His guard drops, and you’re kissing him again, harder, till he’s breathless and confused and yet unable to push you off. ‘Cause dad is so weak-willed when it comes to you. If only you’d had the guts to get to him sooner. “I won’t cry… I won’t cry if you kiss me, dad, I promise.” It’s a shitty tactic, threats, making dad’s heart jump like that - gonna send him into cardiac arrest.

Leon hesitates, softens like butter when your hands come to fist the fabric of his shirt, “Okay, just, just a kiss, alright? And mom can’t find out ‘bout this.” He stammers, cupping your face in his big hands, his fingers trembling. “And… And just one, yeah?” His flimsy assertion of dominance has your lips curving into the slightest of smiles, dad’s cute.

“Just one.” You agree, his spiky lashes cast shadows on his face, he shuts his eyes tight as your lips ghost over his for a moment, then you take his face in your hands and press them together. Lip to lip. Heart to heart. You swing a leg over his, situating yourself in his lap. Leon’s eyes open, no longer bracing as he glances down at your spread thighs, then up at your face.

“What’s up?” Leon tries, it’s hard to miss the apprehensive edge to his tone, how he burrows backwards into the couch pillows, shoulders shrinking to get away from you. His kid.

He’s not moving. Not pushing you off, which he could easily do, not calling mom and telling her you need to be checked into a ward of some kind - with others akin to you. Would be like a slumber party really, getting to indulge in fantasies that haven’t left the confines of your sick little head. Dad is looking on ahead, glassy-eyed and sad. And you kind of get it now, what you’ve heard about dad being easy back when he was younger. Not easy, but soft. Pliant against his own will, even when he has the capacity to say no, you’ve given him plenty of chances to say no.

“Dad, I’m sorry, I’ll be quick.” That’s a promise, you’re worked up from therapy with the cleaner version of dad. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to do this ever again.” Unless you want too is left unsaid. You hope the implications are clear enough, that he’s picking up what you’re putting down, but dad is slow in that sense. He’s a hands-on type of guy.

You give him a minute, dad blinks, and there’s no explicit refusal, so you lift up to wriggle out of your jeans. Dad’s come undone a little easier, he raises his hips when you ask him to do so, and he flinches when you unzip them - fingers coming into contact with the softness of his cock through the fabric of his boxers. Leon’s not hard. It’s a blow to your already crippled ego, then again you’ve heard mom talk about Viagra to him before - so maybe it’s not a ‘my kid is groping my dick’ issue, but more of an old age issue.

The tip is velvety on your skin when you tuck your fingers beneath the waistband to tug them down, with the way he’s reclined back in his seat, his dick flops onto his stomach. Heavy and stagnant, much like dad himself. Doesn’t spring up and whack you in the face like dicks tend to do in porn, doesn’t have a mind of its own, it just sits there awkwardly.

Leon closes his eyes, you notice how ragged his breathing is and wonder if he’s getting any enjoyment out of this, or if he’s two minutes away from flatlining. To comfort him, you stroke a hand over his cheek, fingers curling beneath his square jaw as your other hand curls around his flaccid cock. He flinches, and for the first time in your life, you see dad cry. And it turns you on. The last time was when you were born, you don’t remember it, for obvious reasons, but he reiterates it every birthday.

“Oh, dad,” Your brows knit together, “I didn’t… Please don’t cry, I really didn’t mean to upset you, dad. Gosh, I’m just, I just needed to do this dad— Can you speak to me, please? I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon’s voice wavers, his body is wracked with shivers, chills prickling his spine, “I want to make you happy.” You’re all he's got, you and mom are the only speck of normalcy in dad’s life and you’ve gone and ruined it. For reasons even your counsellor couldn’t process, reasons that are unfathomable to you. A prion disease so severe that even your therapist likely fears there’s no chance. “I’m sorry.” He says finally, and your stomach hurts.

“Dad, don’t say sorry, that’s stupid.” You lift your hips once more, spitting on your palm and smearing it over his dick has done little for lube, but he’s not all that big - and you’re dripping down your thighs, it’ll be an easy fit, ‘cause dad made you. Half of you is him, and that means he’ll be just right. “It’s not your fault.” You tell him, but you doubt it lifts the guilt from his shoulders, it weighs down his tender heart instead.

Dad doesn’t think that way. He blames everything on himself. Leon’s the one that raised you, he's the one that went wrong. You don’t know how else to tell him there’s something sick inside your head, and it’s infected every single part of you.

It’s hard to guide him into your hole, the tip bumps over your twitching clit a couple of times, up and down your slippery folds as you try to line him up. Leon’s face twists when you take him in, walls breached by the tip alone, you wonder if he’s relieved to find out you’re a virgin. You’ve been saving it for dad, didn’t know the opportunity would come so soon. Your cunt squelches when you take him to the hilt, squeezing around his shaft till he hardens inside of you. There we go, so dad does like you after all? Or is this a natural response? Or is he thinking of someone else, his eyes have been closed for an awfully long time.

“Dad, will you look at me, please?” That’s the second time you’ve asked so nicely and he obeys all the same, cracking open his eyes, foggy like stained glass, just as bright too.

Two hands come to rest on your torso, Leon’s keeping you at arms length. You want dad to let you in. The rocking off your hips elicits the slightest groan from his parted lips, you grind yourself into his lap, fat head leaking and jabbing at that spongy spot deep inside. See? Dad’s made for you. Dad knows you.

“Dad,” You whimper, clammy forehead sticking to his, the tip of your nose bumping his broad one, it’s romantic you think. In the same way A View from the Bridge is romantic - to you and you only. “I love you… I love you so much.” His hips jolt upwards, dad’s sensitive you suppose, he didn’t mean to do it ‘cause his face contorts with pure, unadulterated disgust.

Shakily, you take his bigger hand in yours, he’s limp in your grip. You jam his hand between your sweaty bodies, force him to rub them against your thrumming clit. Dad does it. ‘Cause he loves you, if you didn’t get that by now. His thumb rubs figure eights into your bud, the nimble touch, along with dad’s dick right where you want it, lodged deep inside your pussy - it tips you right over the edge.

Your thighs tremble, snapping shut around his hand, and his cock slips out. He’s only got a semi, or maybe he came earlier, but you don’t know much about dick specifics so you curl into his chest, and dad holds you tight even after you totally violated the poor guy.

“Should clean up ‘fore mom gets home.” Leon’s voice is unsteady, lilting up and down, all over the place. God, did you make dad cry again, you stupid bitch?

“Yeah,” You agree, scratching the back of your head ‘cause what do you even say after fucking your dad? Couldn’t even ask google that. “Dad, do you still like me?”

“I love you,” He answers instinctively, “I’ll love you no matter what you do to me, kid.”

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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liliansun · 4 months

Text

two “rules” one problem

pairing : ex-bff!hyuck x fem!reader

wc : 14.8k

synopsis : despite your history, you and haechan couldn’t stand each other. that is till you’re paired up for a project and he’s just desperate enough for your help with his love life with the acception of his stupid rules

genre : enemies2lovers (best trope), ex-childhood friends to lovers (also best trope), fake dating, angst, fluff, college au

warnings : swearing, kissing, alcohol, haechan gets jealous, lying, uhh idk what else but lmk if i missed something (not proof read so i’m sorry 🥲)

If there was one thing twelve year old donghyuck wanted more in this world, other than his mom’s cooking, it was his two best friends coming together. You had been his friend since birth, both your mom’s bonding together before the two of you even came into the world. They met in a birth class, having similar due dates helped them both find comfort and friendship within each other compared to the other moms in the class that were farther along than them. They had already planned playdates after both you and donghyuck were born and even after all that time, they stayed true to those plans.

Your earliest memories have donghyuck in them in some shape, way or form. Whether he was attending you birthday party, or you to his, all the way to the two of you sharing the same home room when you both started school. The dynamic between you two was truly unmatched, something that could never be touched or fault. When you two got older, not much had changed. The excitement of high school had you both buzzing as each day passed through your final years of being just below the line of being a teenager.

Although you both were attached by the hip, you still found space in your young life to befriend other people, or at least donghyuck did. Thats how mark lee came into the picture, being a transfer student in the middle of the year made it hard for him to settle in and become comfortable. Donghyuck saw mark sitting along during lunch one sunny afternoon and although the two had a bit of a rocky start, their friendship blossomed into something that they both needed. Now that he had such a connection with his new found friend, all he wanted to do is share his love for mark with you. You thought you were a welcoming person, easy to get along with and fairly nice, but the day donghyuck brought you and mark together would just so happen be the day you lost your best friend.

“I’m telling you, that doesn’t sound right to me.”

Mark rolls his eyes, laughing a little under his breath as he strums his slender fingers against the strings on his guitar. “Its not finished yet, gotta trust the process.” You simply reply with a hum as you watch mark fiddle and try to tune the strings to his liking. The two of you were cooped up in his dorm room, him sitting on the edge of his bed with the instrument rested in his lap while you opted to sit in the chair that usually was tucked under his desk. “What are you doing here anyway, don't you have other friends to bother instead?” Rolling your eyes, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. “Actually, no i don't, i thought we went over this. Yeongmin is off studying so she can’t aid my boredom.”

Mark continued strumming along the strings till he got a rhythm he liked and started to hum along with the tune that was filling the room. “I swear you’re gonna be famous one of these days.” Looking down at your phone, you notice the groupchat you’re in with your friends is going off. “That would be nice actually.” Unlocking your phone, a smile spreads across your lips at the messages that were popping up. “Maybe if you didn’t have crippling stage fright, you’d be able to actually play the songs you sing to more people than just me.” A gentle laugh left mark’s throat as he set the guitar down on its stand beside his bed. “Actually, I sing to Haechan too, so don’t come for me.” His name left a sour taste in your mouth, your face scrunching up as you try to block out his stupid face in your mind. Mark could tell you two still weren’t on good terms, but he didn’t want to push it again and opted to pick up his phone that was vibrating on his bed.

You stole a glace at the screen, catching the name of the caller id. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You mumble underneath your breath. Mark answers the facetime call, holding his phone in his hand, but opting to hold it further down at an angle. “Yo, whats up?” The background noise was windy, letting both you and mark know that he must've been outside. “Bro where have you been, i've been looking for you for hours!”

“If you didn’t find him, he obviously didn’t wanna be found, but if its you he’s hiding from who can blame him.” Mumbling beneath your breath, but mark still heard you. “Hey, you be nice over there.” haechan looked confused on the screen, strolling around on campus to his unknown destination. “Are you talking to yourself again?” mark turned his camera around, showing you sitting comfortably in his chair as you scroll mindlessly on social media. “No, im not talking to myself again, y/n is here.” by the mention of your name, haechan rolled his eyes. “Why is she always there when im coming over.”

“I didn't even know you're coming over.” added in his defense after switching his camera back around. “If that thing is on his way, i’m out.” you piped up, grabbing your bag from off the floor as you stood up from the chair. “Text me when you make it in at least?” mark felt helpless sometimes. He never truly understood what went down between you and haechan all those years ago, but splitting his free time between the two of could could be more challenging some days than others. If he wasn’t chilling with you in the comfort of the few places you knew haechan wouldn’t be caught dead near like your dorm or the library, he was chilling with haechan and the friend group they developed over the years being in college.

“Will do, have fun with the devils incarnate.” You say back as you’re opening the door to make your exit. Just as you’re leaving, you come face to face with something firm or shall you say someone. “Do you ever use those eyes of yours or are they just there for decoration?” you recognized that voice from anywhere, it being the same voice belonging to the one person you were hoping not to see on your way out. “Can you move lee, or are you just that self absorbed to think that I could just see you standing outside the door before it was even open?” Haechan scoffed as you walked past him, huffing as you nudge him with your shoulder to get him out of your way. From mark’s dorm to yours wasn't a far walk, which was good for you when you needed to get out of your room or just needed his help on an assignment. Unfortunately for you, it meant that haechan too didn’t have much of a far walk either seeing that his dorm hall was across from yours.

When you get into your room, your roommate wonchae looked up from her phone as she was laid out on her bed. “I thought you were at mark’s for a few hours?” Tossing your bag down beside the door you huff as you walk over to your bed and crawl underneath the blanket after removing your shoes. “I was till donghyuck decided to grace mark with his presence.” Wonchae giggled as she sits up, looking at you getting comfortable beneath your blanket as you pull your phone out. “Wanna call the girls over for a movie night instead?” you glance over at her, a smile spreading across your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow. “As long as we’re not too loud again, we can’t afford another complaint this month.” Wonchae was already texting the groupchat before you could even finish your sentence. The night proceeded with you and your friends having a movie marathon despite your early class in the morning. You assumed it wouldn’t be too much to unwind a bit, binge watching three movies back to back. Somehow, you didn’t make it to your bed when you initially planned to due to the twins, wonchae and yechae convincing you to pull through the last movie.

Since the time on the clock read after midnight by the time the movies were finished, the three girls opted to sleep over with you and your roommate instead of taking the risk of going back to their own dorms. Yeongmin’s dorm was the furthest from yours, being about a twenty minute walk and you all collectively agreed she especially was sleeping over. Somehow you and yeongmin both managed to fit in your tiny bed for the night while the twins and sin-ra snuggled up on wonchae’s bed across the room. By the next morning, you woke up to the sound of yeongmin snoring in your ear beside you. She had her arms and legs tangled in yous, trying to pry her off you as you crane your neck to look over at the time clock on your desk. Your worst fears were confirmed when the time read nine after when your first class was supposed to finish. Quickly getting out of the warmth of your bed, you scramble to get ready and are out the door before you can properly apologize for waking everyone up.

If you were lucky, or rather fast enough, you can catch your professor before he starts his next class and get the notes on what you missed. You make a mental note to thank yourself when you set up your schedule for this semester for giving you breaks in between classes, especially on the midday schedules. As your toppling up the stairs leading into the building, you spot haechan leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He hadn’t noticed you thankfully, not wanting him to hold the fact that you almost busted your face open trying to get inside over your head. He looked so into thought, looking out over the campus as you take the opportunity to grip the railing to catch your breath.

“Look who decided to show up for class today.” rolling your eyes, you straighten your posture as he pulls himself off the wall he once was comfortably leaning against. “Don’t start with me today, i almost died trying to get over here to catch professor choi before his next class.”

“Don't bother, he cut class short for some family emergency or something, but i can fill you in if you fix your attitude.” He truly was the epitome of your frustration. “Just tell me what i missed so i can get away from you as quickly as possible.” there was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he tools steps towards you. “Looks like you’re not gonna get too far, we’re partnered up for a presentation.”

If the universe didn’t already hate you, you’d think this was your first sign. “I can always request a partner switch, you know?” Haechan only laughs in response, clutching the bag hung over his shoulder with one hand. “Good luck with that, he made it pretty clear that he wasn’t giving in because this will be counted towards our final.” a sigh left your lips as you accepted your fate, you and haechan would have to spend an unknown amount of hours in each others presence without any chance at getting around it. “Just meet me after our next class and we can go over it then.” WIth that, you turned on your heals and made your way to the nearest cafe to get something in your body since you didn’t have the opportunity to grab breakfast. Thankfully for you, your campus was notorious for its tiny cafes placed around all of campus which not only helped feed your caffeine addiction, it helped other students make some money as they swim in student dept.

As good as every cafe you’ve been to on campus can be, none of them compare to the baristas at cafe neo, something about the way those boys make your drinks just the way you like them has been without a doubt why you only trust them with your order. As you make your way across campus and the cafe is within sight, you over hear a conversation between the two girls in front of you. “Oh my god, look what bomi just posted!” the one to your right gasped, whipping out her phone as she brings it to the slightly shorter girls attention. “You’re kidding, isn’t she dating haechan?” you’re trying not to be nosy, not fond of listening into other peoples conversation, but at the mention of haechan’s name, you can’t help, but keen in. “Guess not anymore, look at the caption, those hearts are definitely more than just friendly.”

The two part off of the way you were going, leaving you with little information as to what their reactions were about. You had just saw haechan, judging by his usual cocky and self absorbing nature, he seemed all but heartbroken. You push your wondering thoughts aside as you enter in the cafe, smiling over at the tall boy who stood behind the counter. “Welcome to cafe neo– oh hi y/n!” his nametag read jisung, but you always referred to him as the cute underclassman who blushed when you tipped him. “Hi ji, anything new on the menu?” Jisung smiled at you as you walk up to the counter. “Nothing today, chenle is still brainstorming over ideas to ask the culinary department on what they can come up with in the back, you just want the usual?” You skim over the menu that was hanging on the wall behind him, as if you got anything different, but it never hurt to look. “Mmm, yeah, just one please.”

Getting the money from your pocket, you lay it on the counter as he typed in your order on the screen in front of him. It’s times like this that make you wonder how often you come here for this boy to know your order by heart. He takes the money you laid out for him and as he tries to hand you your change, you throw your hand up in refusal. “No, you keep it, you boys work too hard.” theres a slight pinkish tent to his cheeks as he slips the few bills and coins in the glass jar beside the front of the counter. “I’ll call you when its ready!”

Throughout the rest of the day, you take your perfectly made drink with you to your next class and go about your day, everything feeling as normal as it could. One thing that slightly bothered you were the hushed whispers of Haechan’s relationship and how quickly his ex girlfriend seemed to move on. People were coming up with theories amongst themselves as to what could’ve happened and if Haechan knew. Just like you, some said he seemed fine for the first part of the day till the alleged post was made from which you overheard. You didn’t pay it any mind and went about your day till you were back in your room for the night.

“And if you carry this number, you should get one of these answers down here.”

“And how do i know if i got them right?”

“We won’t know till we actually try, now won’t we?” Jaemin, the guy who you shared a math class with last semester, asked you to tutor him this semester so that he might actually have a chance of passing the class and getting out of this hellhole. His words, not yours. “Or, brillant idea, you can use your pretty brain and show me which answer is correct.” Jaemin was indeed a smart guy, but it was moments like these that you questioned if he really had a multi functioning organ in that skull of his or was it just hot air. “Not a chance, solve it the way I showed you and we’ll go from there.” With a defeated huff, he finally puts the pencil that he has been fiddling with the last few minutes to work.

The two of you met in the library near his hall regularly, about twice during the week and an extra day is added when he has an upcoming test and if you have the time. The library usually was quiet around this time of day, most keeping to themselves as they cater to their own work, but for some reason you felt a pair of eyes staring at the back of your head. Just as you’re about to take a look around the room, the chair beside you is being pulled out and haechan finds himself in the seat next to you. “Where have you been?” you look over at him, slightly shocked to see him actually in the library. “Excuse me?” His face tells you that he’s annoyed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he leans into your personal space. “I said, where have you been, i've been all over campus for you and had to result to mark to find you.”

You motion to Jaemin who was focused in on the problem in front of him, or at least he was when you last looked his way. Now he has his signature grin on his lips, flashing his teeth as he witness the unwelcomed tension between you and haechan. “For your information, i’m tutoring pretty boy over here and your grumpiness is interrupting him.” Jaemin’s smile widens even more as the vein in Haechan’s forehead looks like it about to pop. “I, quite frankly, don’t give a fuck. maybe send someone a text next time so i don’t have to look so desprate to find you.” You scoff, sitting back in your seat as you realize his undertones. Who was he to say that looking for you made him look desperate, he literally is desperate in this moment.

“Sorry to break up this beautiful moment, but its about that time for me to go, so y/n, same time next week?” Nodding, you let out a sigh as Jaemin starts to pack his things into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “There, happy now? You ran off Jaemin.” haechan ignores you, pulling his laptop out of his own bag and sets it onto the table. “We have roughly a month and a half to pump out a fucking book of an essay and make a slide point presentation, the faster we get this finished the less I have to see you in my free time.” He was truly unbelievable, first he comes and interrupts your personal time to help the needy, needy being Jaemin and his need to pass his class, and now he throws wanting to get away from you as quickly as he can? You are definitely adding this to the list of why you hate him.

The two of you go over the topic you were given, trying to break down the work between the two of you into categories: what you can do separate and what you’ll have to do together. Since you both were already here, you decided it would be best to get a head start on the research portion. Time must’ve caught up with you both, wrapping things up right before the library closed for the night. “I can’t look at this screen anymore, lets just end it here and meet up another day.” You grab your forgotten bag from the floor, carrying it on your arm as Haechan packs up his laptop. By the time he is done, you’re already making your way out the door and dredging the walk back to your dorm. Quick approaching steps trail behind you as haechan jogs to catch up to you. “Woah, not so fast, aren’t you forgetting something?” you don’t bother to stop, continuing your walk as he walks beside you. “And that is?”

“We don’t have any way of contacting each other, idiot, so give me your number.” You halt your movements and with a sigh, turn to face him. The bright sky from when you first entered the library earlier is now replaced with the deep colors of the night. The moon was full, shining its light down and being your only real light to see haechan’s features that seem more soft in this setting. “Do you still remember my number?” Haechan looks taken aback, looking at you with a lingering confusion in his eyes. “You still have that number?”

“Mhm, so if you still know it then there’s your way of getting to me.” You’re about to turn and make your way to your dorm, your stomach urging you to find food soon. Haechan was chewing on his bottom lip, reaching out for your arm as he watched you try to walk away. “What is it donghyuck? I’m hungry and tired, what could you possibly want now?” The wind leaves his lungs as you say his name. Once he got to high school, many people started sticking him with the nickname Haechan, the reasoning behind it was his bright smile and personality, but you still saw him as donghyuck even after all this time.

“Just come with me, your dorm is too far to be walking at this time of night.” You didn’t get a chance to protest, he was already dragging you along with him to his car parked out front. “Fine, but I swear if you try to kill me with your driving I will come back to haunt your ugly ass.” You earn a snicker from him, his hand still holding your arm till you two reach his car and you slide into his passenger seat. Haechan fits perfectly into the drivers seat, putting the keys into the ignition and starting up his car once you are locked in. The two of you don’t say much, letting the radio fill in the silence of the drive. You’re too busy looking out the window to realize he passes up your hall, looking over at him with confusion once you see an unfamiliar street.

“Uhm, where are we going?”

“Dinner.” The words fall from his mouth so nonchalantly that you don’t question it any further, sinking into the seat as you let him drive to wherever he wanted. You’re not exactly sure why, but part of you always wanted a moment like this. Sitting in the car with Haechan, driving around town till it got dark was one thing you dreamt of back when you were both young, back when you still could see yourself in his future. Now that you’re doing it, it almost feels foreign. Sure, everything about his car screamed Haechan, the little things dangling from his rear view mirror gave that away, but the boy beside you was far from familiar. He was uncharted territory, someone you barely knew and to be beside him, being this close to him brought on a headache you weren’t expecting.

The two of you pull through the Taco Bell drive through, getting in line behind the cars. “What do you want?” You tell him your order after glancing over the menu. Even though you already knew what you wanted, you still wanted to give it some time to tell him in the order you wanted it. You were the type of person who wasn’t afraid of change, but didn’t go out of your way to invite it either. Always ordering the same thing from each place you go, you found comfort in the things that could always remain the same, like your Taco Bell order.

After your order is put through, you’re pulling your wallet out to give him cash for your part. “Here, this is for the food.” Haechan simply ignores you, handing over his card to the guy at the window. “Hello? Take the cash before I take it back.” After getting his card back, he slips it into his pocket and pulls forward. “Save your money, y/n, it’s not a big deal.” He seemed short with you tonight, not speaking up or putting much of a fight into it like he usually did in the passing times you two saw one another. It felt odd to see him brush you off, an unsettling feeling washing over you as you put the money back into your wallet.

After he had gotten the food and your two drinks, he whipped his car around and parked in a spot on the side of the building. “Are you fine eating here, I’m kinda hungry and don’t wanna have to wait till we get back.”

“No, yeah, it’s fine, but are you okay?”

You could see his body tense up at your question, pushing the straw into your drink before doing so to his own. “I guess, why do you care?” You’re sorting through the bag, grabbing what you assumed was his and handing it over to him. He goes to grab his food from your hand, your fingers brushing against each other’s for a moment. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, the warmth of his hand against yours, but it felt all too familiar and you almost jerk back as he quickly grabs the food. “Because I’m a decent human being and I knew you well enough back then to know that something is off.”

If you could read his thoughts, you’d see how badly your words hurt him just now. You were far from wrong, you truly did know him like the back of your hand and maybe even better than he knew himself, but too much time between you two had you both wondering if you knew anything about each other anymore. Amongst the burning anger you both have for one another, there was still some sort of longing within you that had you both slightly questioning the downfall of your friendship, but never enough to where either would act on it. “I don’t know, it’s kind of weird to think of opening up to someone I hate.”

“Then don’t think about it right now, if you need someone to talk to then do so. If it means forgetting you hate me just to get it off your chest, do so donghyuck.” A somber smile finds its way onto his lips as he tears open the wrapping that covered his food. “You’re a little too nice to me for someone who hates me just as much as I hate them.”

“Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I’m evil, I have a heart too you know?”

“Oh really, I never would’ve guessed judging by the lifeless look in your eyes.” You roll your eyes at his jab, mumbling something about dropping it before relishing in your food. The two of you don’t talk much after that, sitting in his car with the only form of sounds filling it were you two eating till he dropped you off. After getting in, wonchae gave you a weird look as you looked both defeated and exhausted. You told her you had a rough day and wanted sleep to be the reason you forgot about it.

You hadn’t seen or heard from Haechan since the night he bombarded you in the middle of your study session with Jaemin then took you out to Taco Bell. Sure, you’d see him in your shared class, but not once did his eyes meet yours and he kept every snarky remark to himself if he had any. You didn’t pay it any mind, assuming whatever was going on with him would pass and he’d be back to his normal asshole-like self soon. In between your classes for the day, you decided to slip off to the neo cafe for some well needed caffeine to keep you going through the day. While you were here, you planned to slip off in a quiet corner and let the music they play in the small room milk your brain to help you continue working on the parts of your presentation with Haechan.

As you’re walking up to the counter, you notice Jisung was nowhere to be found and you opt to wait patiently by the counter. The ring of the bell signaling the doors movement doesn’t catch your attention, but the familiar voice behind you does when you turn your head to the boy who called your name. “Can I help you?” Haechan hadn’t turned to look at you, his eyes scanning over the menu. “What’s good here, do you know?” You give him a puzzled look, wondering where this small talk came from. “Uhm, if your taste buds are even remotely the same, I’d say you’d get the sweet honey taro drink, it comes iced or hot.” He simply nods, tearing his eyes from the menu and lets his gaze fall onto you. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, trying to find something that felt familiar behind them, but all you could see was the void behind his golden irises.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting! Chenle was about to burn down the kitchen so I had to step away for a second.” Jisung’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning to him with a soft smile. “That’s okay ji, I’m more than happy to wait if that meant this sacred place would still be my caffeine plug.” Jisung smiles as he enters your order, his attention going from yours to Haechan whose gaze has yet to leave your figure. Your eyes follow Jisung’s, looking over at Haechan. “Oh, no we’re not—“

“I’ll just have what she’s having.” Haechan pulls out some cash from his back pocket, bringing it out for Jisung. Your mind couldn’t wrap itself around Haechan’s weird demeanor lately, he not only has been nice to you, but he’s paid for you twice. You knew he was sick in the head, but now you’re guessing it’s more than just his mental stability. When Jisung gives Haechan his change, you fumble with your pocket and pull out a few bills to throw into the tip jar, something you didn’t want to miss even if you weren’t the one paying. Jisung silently thanked you with his smile, to which you returned and told you both that he’d call you when your drinks were ready.

You were about to start questioning the weirdly quiet Haechan before he motioned for you both to move over to a table a little further in a corner. The two of you sat down, setting your bag against your chair as you prop your elbows up onto the table. “Okay, you’re acting weird and it’s starting to make me feel uncomfortable.” Haechan’s lips part as he goes to speak, but Jisung’s presence interrupts him as the younger boy sets both the cups down. “Thanks, ji.” You said, grabbing one of the drinks and bringing it towards you. “Y/n, back in the car you said something that I’ve been thinking about lately.” He had your full attention, something that made him oddly feel sheer to you. You were leaned in, your body language letting him know that you were listening, despite the awkwardness of the moment.

“You said that even though you hate me, you still have a heart too.” Nodding in confirmation, you remember saying it, but it didn’t make sense as to why he was bringing it up. “I, uhm, don’t know if you heard or not, but my girlf—my ex broke up with me recently and I really want to get her back.” You bring the cup in your hands to your lips, taking in a slow sip in case his next words are your cause of death. “And the only way I can think to do that is to make her jealous and I know what you’re thinking and I can hear it now, but just hear me out?” There it was, his intentions and reasoning behind his odd behavior lately. As you process his words, you already know where this is going and your drink decides to be the one to take you out today instead. You start to choke as the liquid goes off its track and nearly comes back through your nose.

Haechan’s eyes widen, staring at you in surprise as you try to gain back the air that just left your lungs as you cough. “Are you okay?” You simply nod, patting your chest as your drink is put back onto the table and you’re taking in slow breaths to steady yourself in the seat. “Uh yeah, no wait, okay hold on, you want to do what now?” The boy across from you drops his head slightly, feeling embarrassed by even bringing up the situation. Yeah, he wanted his ex back, he truly loved her, or so that’s what he thought it was. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but you’re the only person I thought of.”

“And what makes you think it’ll be believable? I mean the whole campus knows we hate each other.”

“But they also know we have history, plus this project will be a good enough cover to make them believe we had some spark going off or whatever.” You stay silent, contemplating the whole ordeal. On one hand, this could go terribly wrong in many ways, people could not believe you two and this could blow up in your face for the rest of your time at this university or it could go great and once he’s back in the arms of his ex lover, he’ll finally leave your hair for good. “I’m not saying yes, so don’t get too excited, but if I were to think about it, what do I get out of it?” Haechan knew you were going to want something, a slight smirk forming in the corners of his lips. In his mind, he guesses some things never change and with that, neither have you. “I’ll leave you alone after this, no more bickering or picking at you and shit—oh and I’ll do half of your work for the project!”

Damn, he truly was desperate. You press your lips together, trying to debate if this truly would be worth it. The outcome, if good, would be best for both parties and maybe you’d finally have a peaceful rest of your time here. Something deep down inside tells you it’s a bad idea, but you choose to ignore it because if it meant he’d take over half of what you have to do on your shared presentation, more free time for you. “I have to go to class, but I’ll let you know by later tonight.” Your watch indicated if you didn’t leave now, you’d be late for your next class and since you have a lab today, you especially didn’t want to miss it. You go to stand, one hand holding your bag while the other grabs your cup. Haechan stands too, his bag still hanging on his shoulder as he goes to grab his cup. The two of you exit the Neo cafe quietly, unaware of the lingering eyes that follow you two out.

After your final class, you make a b-line to Mark’s dorm where he was expecting you. It had been a few days since you two had time to hang out and you both were taking the opportunity to have some study time together in the quiet of his dorm. Once he signs you in as a guest, you both go up to his dorm and make yourselves comfortable, you being at his desk and him sitting on his bed. “What do you have to get done?” Pulling out your notes from your lab along with your laptop, you set everything out on his desktop. “Just going over some notes and typing them into a small essay for class, you?”

“Man, I got a quiz to study for and since professor moon likes to give them at the worst times possible, I gotta get as much as I can in.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you both busy yourselves in what you were doing, Mark had his speaker on and chose a calming playlist he created for when you two would study like this. The music really did help you stay focused, having something to fill the room to keep your brain from getting off track. You’re about halfway done typing away on your laptop when your phone buzzes beside it. Glancing over, you notice a few missed notifications from your shared group chat with your friends, a few social media notifications and a text from an unknown number. You’re about to pick up your phone to see who texted you when an incoming call pops up on the screen, the same number that texted you.

You slide your thumb across your phone, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“You didn’t answer my text.” Of course it would be Haechan, who else were you expecting. In all honesty, you did expect him to text you at some point, but the call was a surprise for you. “I’m studying, like you should be doing too.”

“I need to know your answer, don’t get too excited.” You can practically feel him smirking through the phone followed by some shuffling. “Where are you anyway? I stopped by your hall and you weren’t there.”

Your posture straightens, wondering who he asked and what he told them when we made his way to your dorm. “You did what? Are you insane?” Haechan laughs, a soft laugh as you lean back in the seat. “Slightly, I’ve been told that’s a part of my charm though.” Rolling your eyes, you huff before looking over your shoulder at mark. “I’m with a friend, why?”

“Tell me where you’re at unless you want me to go to every hall on campus.”

“You’re fucking psycho, I’m with mark, idiot.” At the mention of his name, mark looks up at you as you swivel the chair around. You mouth Haechan’s name to him to which he looked genuinely confused. “Figures, I’m on my way.” He ended the call before you could even protest, swearing under your breath as you stood up to get your things together. “Why are you—actually no, since when did you and Haechan call each other?”

“I’ll explain later, I gotta go though bub, but I appreciate you studying with me.” You gave mark an apologetic smile as you packed your bag up with your laptop, making sure to grab everything you had. “Text me when you get in.” Mark had stood up from his bed, making his way over to you to gently pull you into a hug. The two of you never hugged much, the sudden affection leaving you taken aback slightly, but nevertheless you wrap your arms around him as he did you. “I’m right across the street, I’m not going rouge.” He hums, pulling back from the hug as he gives you an uneasy smile. “Yeah, I know, but you’re going with Haechan and that’s what makes me worried.”

It too made you worried, even if you didn’t exactly agree to his lil situation he proposed earlier, that nagging feeling that it wasn’t going to end well never left you every time you gave it more thought. “I’ll be fine, plus my location is on if I don’t text you by nine.” Mark only laughs as your arms drop from around him and you leave his room. It doesn’t take you long to get out the building, spitting Haechan’s car parked in front with his passenger window rolled down. He’s leaned over, a smirk across his lips while one hand grips the top of the steering wheel. “Hop in.” He says as you make your way down to his car. Once you get in, you throw your bag in his back seat and fasten your seatbelt before Haechan takes off and drives you two off campus.

“And where exactly are we going?”

Haechan doesn’t look over at you, his eyes focused on the road, but he can feel your stare on him. He was wearing a letterman jacket with a black shirt underneath and some jeans that complemented the look, it was the first time you really took in his attire and you swore he didn’t have that jacket on earlier. “Somewhere quiet we can talk, to sort everything out for the show we’re about to put on.” He’s cocky, confident and arrogant. You hated it, hated how smug he looked as the words fell from his mouth. “I haven’t even said yes yet, did that get through your thick skull?” He takes a moment to glance over at you, his mischievous expression never faulting. “You wouldn’t be in my car with me if you didn’t want to.” Fuck him for being right and fuck him for being slightly attractive when he said it. Slightly, not very or even a full hundred percent, but slightly.

He drives you two off to an abandoned looking parking lot where he puts his car into park and turns slightly to face you. “Have you thought about it enough?” You turn to face him, getting as comfortable as you can in the seat. “I guess, but you better pull through with doing half of my part of the project or else I’ll castrate you, no hesitation.” Haechan laughs, a full laugh that has his head tilting back just a bit. You’re fighting the smile that threatens to form on your lips. “You have my word, but we have more important things to go over.” He searches your face when you remain quiet, having the same look you did back at the cafe earlier, he knew you were listening. “Okay, so I was thinking our first appearance as a newly and very much in love ‘couple’ should be at the party this weekend.”

“Scratch that, I don’t party.”

“You’re gonna have to if you wanna keep up with me.” You scowl at him, rolling your eyes mentally as you give in. “Fine, but I’m not making it a habit, I have grades to keep up ya know?” He simply nods, going over the next few things y’all as a couple would have to do together in order to pull this off. Your first outing would be at the party, to much of your disapproval and the following will fall into place like dominos. You’d start having lunch together if your schedules met up, the two of you would spend time between classes together, again if your schedules met up, then you’d also have to sit beside him in your shared class. He also made mention that he’d be picking you up and dropping you off at your dorm so that you’d always be seen with him to make it believable. “Now we need to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules? What are we, five years old?”

A memory flashes through Haechan’s mind, back to when you two were five. You had been on the playground at school by yourself and he was off on the monkey bars when you had fallen off the swing. The ground did not aid your fall, scraping your elbow and knee which resulted in a cry that not only alerted your teacher, but haechan. When get got to you, you were sniffling over the pain and the dirt on your dress, a dress that your mom bought for you for your previous birthday. “Y/n, i told you to wait for me.” Five year old Haechan pouted as he walked with you and the teacher to the nurses office. “I wanted to swing, I didn’t think I’d get hurt.” You replied, holding his hand gently. After that day, the two of you made a rule that you’d play together to make sure if something went wrong, you’d be by each other's side.

“The first rule, no one can know, not your roommate or your friends, if you have any, not even Mark.” You scoff, hitting his arm to which he whined. “For your information, I have friends and it’s not only Mark.” Haechan rubs the sore spot on his arm as he shakes his head at you. “Yeah yeah, the voices in your head don’t count.”

“Fuck you, Lee.”

“Second rule, no falling in love, not with anyone while this is going on, which goes without saying, but no hooking up either and no falling in love with me.”

“How can anyone fall in love with someone like you?” You didn’t realize the weight of your words till you watched the smile from his face fade away. Guilt washed over you in a wave, your face dropping as you see him fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. You’re about to apologize when you see his mood shift, he turns back facing the wheel and starts his car. “Yeah, anyway, two rules and that’s that.” You don’t say anything back, turning back in your seat to fasten your seatbelt. Haechan drives you back onto campus and drops you off in front of your hall. “What time is your class in the morning?” He asks as he puts his car into park. “I think it’s an eight am class, but I’ll text you when I get in.” He nods as you free yourself and get out of his car.

Heading upstairs, the phone in your hand is going off with missed messages from your group chat with your friends. You’re smiling down at them as you push your door open, only to look up and see your four friends sitting with their arms crossed. “Oh hello, did I miss something?”

“We missed you!” Yeongmin stated, sitting with her legs crossed on your bed. “Where have you been, ma’am?” Yechae asked as she gave you a knowing smile. “I was just out, jeez, I’m sorry mom.” Sin-ra giggles as she pushes out her phone for you to see. “Uh huh, and whose car was this?” All the girls ooo at you as you sit down on your bed, filling in the spot next to Yeongmin. “You watched me!” Wonchae shook her finger at you, “What else were we supposed to do when you went missing? One minute, you’re at Mark’s dorm and the next, you’re off the grid!” The four girls immediately started questioning you as you brushed off their curiosity with half-assed answers. You wanted so badly to tell them all that’s going on and the situation you had gotten yourself into, but that was one of the two rules Haechan made. No one can know.

A loud knock on the door interrupts the conversation, all of you looking at one another. “Oh, that must be our RA, I think the pizza is here.” Yeongmin gets up from your bed and goes to open the door, unexpecting the boy who was on the other side. “Hi, uhm, is y/n here?” Haechan’s voice immediately caught your attention as you scramble off your bed while the other three girls give you wide eyed looks. “I’ll get it!” Yeongmin’s grip on the door is stronger than your force of trying to push her out the way. She moves, but not enough to where you'd be blocking their view. She only steps back, opening the door even more for them all to see him standing there with your bag in hand. “Hi, sorry, I didn’t even realize I left it.”

Haechan can tell by the look on your friends' faces that they were shocked to see him there. He had an audience and he was about to put on a show. “No problem baby, you left it in my backseat.” The sudden nickname makes your stomach flip, but you weren’t about to show him that. Instead, you reach for the bag to which he moves with his hand. “Ah ah, I want a kiss goodbye first.” You immediately glare at him to which he gives you a smirk. “Not in front of my friends, silly.” The emphasis you put on the last word has Haechan smiling even wider. “Just one for the road?” With a deep breath in, you had only two options. Kiss him and get him to leave or knee him in his most valued area, but that would be too red of a flag for your friends. You take a step closer to him, standing up on your toes as you press a quick peck on his cheek. As you do so, you grab for your bag that he still was holding, your fingers brushing against his.

“Thank you, I’ll see you in the morning?” Haechan looks dumbfounded for a minute, blinking down at you with slightly parted lips. He wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss him, so for you to do so, he was a bit taken aback. “I’ll be here, goodnight babygirl.”

The show Haechan put on caused an uproar within your friend group that lasted just long enough before the three had to go back to their rooms. They were questioning everything from what the hell that was and since when were you babygirl for anyone else, but them. When you finally admitted that he was your (fake) boyfriend, they all congratulated you on your new relationship and only wished they knew about him before.

The next morning went according to your plans you and haechan texted about the night before. He picked you up, parked right in front of your dorm before your class and even stopped by and got you a drink from the Neo cafe. After he dropped you off at your first class, you didn’t see him much till your shared class where he saved you a seat. The two of you went your separate ways after he walked you to your next class and eventually he dropped you off back at your dorm. “The party starts in a few hours so I’ll text you when I’m coming by.” He said, watching as you get out of his car. “Got it, also don’t come in again, you nearly killed my friends with your little stunt you pulled.” This earned a laugh from Haechan as you shut the door and he waited till you were inside before he pulled off.

By the time you got inside your room, all your friends were already sitting on your and wonchae’s beds as they watched a movie on your shared tv. “Oh good, just in time, the movie just started!” Yechae smiled at you as she paused the movie. “Actually, I have plans, I’m so sorry.” A pout forms on your bottom lip in hope they forgive you. “Actually, do you guys wanna come with me? Haechan is taking me to a party and I don’t wanna leave you guys here.” Sin-ra was already jumping off the bed as she went straight to your closet. “A party, fucking bet!” The other three girls join in as they raid Wonchae’s closet and you text Haechan letting him know they’re coming. To your surprise, he responds with ‘the more the merrier ;)’ and you brush off the wink as you try to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks.

Since there were so many of you and you know already you won’t all fit in Haechan’s car, the girls opt to take Yechae’s car as well and after you all get dressed, you get a text that Haechan was waiting for you out front. “Alright, he’s here, y’all ready?”

“Go ahead and send us the address, we’ll catch up.” Yeongmin gives you a playful push out your door, turning to ask her why before she shuts the door. With that, you go ahead down to his car and open his passenger door. “Hey, the girls are gonna meet us there so can you send me the address really quick?” You haven’t looked at him yet, trying to get your phone out of your pocket. Haechan, on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. You chose to wear an off the shoulder shirt to attempt to blend in paired with some of your nicer jeans and the exposed skin has his heart racing. “Hyuck?” Turning your attention to him, you take in his attire. Leather jacket with a white undershirt and black jeans paired with a black belt. Damn, he actually looked good.

“You look beautiful, y/n.” He sounded like he didn’t mean to say that out loud, his voice barely over a whisper, but that didn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks. “Thank you, not too bad yourself.” Haechan’s face was similar to yours, his cheeks a soft shade of pink. Not just from your compliment, but from how effortlessly the forgotten nickname rolled off your tongue. A few minutes felt like forever passed, the two of you staring at each other with something similar in each other's eyes. For Haechan, it looked like a longing feeling swirling around in his eyes while for you, he could see the same little girl you were back when you were kids and he wonders how much time has passed since he’s seen you like this. You’re the first to break contact, looking away awkwardly as you open your phone to Yechae’s messages. “The address?”

“Huh, I’m sorry, what did you ask for?”

“I asked you earlier for the address to the party.”

Haechan’s lips formed an o as he took the phone you handed over for him. He took the phone, this time your fingers just miss each other and you can’t deny you miss the warmth that radiates from him. After he types in the address, he hands over your phone and the two of you drive silently to the party with the music volume on low. It doesn’t take you long to arrive, people coming in and out as he opts to park up front. “Isn’t it illegal to park here, I thought this was for members only?” You’re unbuckling your seatbelt as you look through the window at the Greek letters above. “Not for me it isn’t.”

His words alone leave you slightly confused, but you get out of the car and as he walks on the other side, he has his hand out for you. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Grab it, we’re a couple, remember?” Oh yeah, you’re here as his girlfriend. Right. Hesitantly, you take your hand within his and interlock your fingers. You haven’t held his hand since you were kids, but damn did it feel right. His hand, obviously larger now, fits with yours perfectly and you shove down the butterflies that climb up your throat as the two of you go inside. The room was crowded, people everywhere leaving little room to actually get through. Haechan’s grip on your hand tightens as he guides you through the room and you can feel the stares of everyone on you as you two make your entrance. The two of you find your way through the main area and over to a slightly less crowded place where some familiar guys stand around a table playing beer pong.

“I want you to meet some guys.” He says loudly to make sure you can hear him over the music. You simply nod and stand a little closer to him as people walk past you. Haechan calls over a few guys you’ve only seen in passing, one very tall and the other slightly shorter with multi-colored hair. “Johnny, Taeyong, this is my girlfriend y/n, y/n, this is Johnny and Taeyong.” Johnny, the taller one gives you a sweet smile as he grabs your free hand and brings it to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.” Taeyong laughs as he pats the others back. “Watch it, Haechan is giving you the death glare.” Haechan drops your hand as you shyly smile, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his hand firmly on your hip. “It’s nice to finally meet you y/n.”

“You’ve heard of me before?”

Taeyong and Johnny exchange looks as they smirk. Haechan on the other hand turns his head as he begins to blush. “Lover boy over here talked about you nonstop when we first met him, i was starting to believe you weren’t real until he told us he finally asked you out.” Taeyong’s words came to you as a shock, not believing Haechan had talked about you to anyone before. “Believe me, he’s definitely down bad for you. You got a good one, Haechan.”

“I know.” He replies with a wide smile as you turn to face him, you’re definitely going to question him on this later. “We’re gonna go get a drink, I’ll catch up with y’all later.” His hand leaves your hip, immediately intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives both boys a hug. You wave them goodbye before Haechan leads you two into the kitchen. “Want anything?” He asks, looking over the table with a variety of alcoholic drinks. “I’ll take some water, I’m not sure if I wanna drink tonight.” He simply nods, respecting your choice as he himself grabs a beer. Just as you’re about to leave, you and haechan turn to see a girl walking in with her arm wrapped around the guy she was with.

“Haechanie, I didn’t know you were coming!”

Judging by how tense Haechan felt beside you, you can only assume that this was his ex, Bomi. “Uh, yeah, I didn’t think you’d be here either.” His tone was flat, but his face was mixed with pain and uninterest. “Yeah, I came with Kai, Kai this is Haechan.” Her smile was fake, even you could see that and the guy she was holding onto gave one similar as he replied with a hey. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there, and who are you?” Her eyes looked soft, but if you looked any closer you could see the burning flame behind that glossy coat. Her lips were turned upward into a smile, but you knew she was lying between her teeth to make you seem less important, to make you feel less important.

“I’m y/n, Haechan’s girlfriend.” You said, squeezing his hand in yours. Haechan came back to his senses, looking over at you with a fond smile. You could feel his gaze on you, but you wanted to mess with his ex a little more. “Who are you? I don’t think I caught your name.” Bomi laughed, a little too loud as she threw her head back a bit. “I’m Bomi, Haechanie’s ex.”

“Oh really, never heard of you.” Your lips purse up a little as you look over at Haechan, his eyes softening when yours lock with his. You honestly could get lost in them if you didn’t realize the amount of people who were staring at you right now. Your attention turns back to Bomi and her new arm candy, her cheerful expression now long gone. “Sorry, we were just stopping for a drink, but it was nice to meet you.” And with that, you guide Haechan from the kitchen and maneuver your way around with him in hand till you reach the stairs. Haechan had silently been following you, thoughts swimming around in his head. “You know a room we can go to that’s clean?”

“Moving pretty fast now aren’t we y/n.”

“Oh shut up, just get us somewhere quiet.”

Haechan smirks as he leads the two of you upstairs, going down a hallway till he stopped at a room and pulled his eyes from his pocket. With his free hand, he unlocks the door and walks inside with your hand still in his. “I lock it when I’m out so that no one can do anything unholy to my bed.” His words register in your brain, but you’re too distracted as you look around in the room. There were vinyls plastered onto the walls, wireless headphones sitting carefully on the side table next to his bed. Haechan drops his hand from yours, furrowing his brows at the lack of warmth that reaches his fingertips while opting to sit on the bean bag across from his bed. You sit down on his bed, noticing he too was already sitting.

Patting your thighs, you take a deep breath in to collect your thoughts from all that’s happened since you two got in while Haechan looks deep in his own head. “So, she’s something.” He laughs softly, fiddling with his fingers as he stares into his lap. “Yeah, she is.”

“And you talk about me?”

Leaning back into the bean bag, he looks at you through hooded eyes. “I did when I first got accepted in, they went around asking personal questions as a bonding experience and you were all I really knew so you naturally came to mind.” You’re fighting the frown as you think about how long you two have hated each other, almost forgetting why you two grew apart for so long. “You okay, after seeing her and all?” With his lips pressed together, he simply nods as he closes his eyes. “I’ll have to be, I mean she looked pretty pissed to see you with me, so that’s a step right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It felt very awkward to be having such a deep conversation with him, but somehow it also felt right. Your silence is interrupted when your phone starts buzzing, pulling it from your pocket and bringing it to your ear to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, we’re here, where are you guys?” Yeongmin called you, you assumed from downstairs as you can hear the faint music through one ear and the louder music through the phone in the other. You mouth to haechan that they were downstairs and ended the call telling her you were on your way. The two of you interlock your hands before going back downstairs, looking for the girls within the crowd. From the staircase, you can barely see them on the dance floor and you signal to haechan to follow you. As you make your way through the sea of bodies against bodies, you see your friends laughing and holding hands as they dance together.

“This is so much fun!” Wonchae smiled at you as she and Yechae held each other close. “If you have any more parties, invite us again!” Yeongmin and Sin-ra smiled at you and haechan, giggling to each other as their favorite song was blasting from the speakers. Haechan drops his hand, turning you around with his hands on your hips. He leans in as he pulls you against him, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Wanna dance?” There’s a faint blush on your cheeks as you simply nod, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his neck. The two of you fall into a rhythm and sway with each other for what feels like hours. After dancing for so long, you’re starting to feel the effects of the night and tell Haechan you’re ready to go home.

You lost the girls way earlier before you decided to leave, sending them a text to tell you when they make it in. Haechan leads you outside, the wind blowing slightly as you two step out of the party. You shiver slightly, rubbing your arms as you walk over to his car. Haechan notices the goosebumps on your skin, immediately taking his jacket off and throwing it over your shoulders. “You’re gonna catch a cold, take it back.” As you’re protesting, he simply shakes his head. “I’m alright for now, just keep it on so you won’t catch a cold.” The warmth of the leather silences you, walking around the front of his car and resting against the top as he stands in front of you.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“For my first college party, yeah I had fun.”

Haechan gasps as you look at him confused. “This was your first party?” You simply nod, chewing on your bottom lip before laughing softly. “As you can tell from my friends, we don’t get out much and the only other person i talk to is Mark.” Haechan steps closer to you, losing in the distance as he tilts your head towards him with his finger. “Let me at least make it memorable.” Your face is bright red as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You stay still, afraid that if you move, he’ll move and you hate to admit to yourself that you don’t want to move. His lips were soft against yours as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands reach out for him, gripping the fabric of his shirt while his hand moves from your chin to cup the side of your cheek.

Haechan was the first to break contact, pulling back as he looked down at you. “How was that for a first college party?” You shake your head, letting go of his shirt to give him a slight shove. “Take me home, idiot.” He laughs as you stand from the hood of his car and the two of you get in, driving around to your hall before you go your separate ways.

The next few weeks go by smoothly, you and haechan seem to be fooling everyone with your physical touch and playful banter when you’re out together. He sits with you when you two go to the cafeteria, eating meals together during your breaks between classes. He’ll meet you at the neo cafe and order your drink for you before you arrive and if you’re tutoring Jaemin, he’ll bring you your drink and sit with you till you’re done. He’s made it a habit to bring you to Taco Bell after your tutoring sessions are over and you two even spend time in the library working on your project, but haechan doesn’t get much work done before he’s bugging you for attention. After all these years, you almost forgot how touchy he is, always grabbing your hand or resting his head on your shoulder and vice versa. The two of you have everyone fooled, even Mark.

“I still can’t wrap my head around you and haechan, I mean one day you were seconds away from ripping his throat out and now you’re giggling at his texts.”

You sheepishly smile as the two of you walk back to his dorm, holding your bag in your hand as you think how much has changed between you and Haechan. Even when you’re alone, he acts no different. He still grabs your hand, plays with your hair, complements you every morning and smiles at you as if every day was the first day you saw each other. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel any different towards him, but you always push those feelings down and remember how you got here. He wants her back, he doesn’t want you, and every time you think of them two wrapped up in each other's arms like how he does with you, it hurts a little more than it should.

“I guess people change, I mean we were friends for a while when we were kids, that played into it too.” You were being truthful, reminiscing on the crush you had on Haechan growing up. Never in a million years would you have told him that, but in a way you also never were given the chance to. Now, here you are with those same harbored feelings and still don’t have a clue with what to do with them. After this is all over, he’ll leave your life once again and you’ll be left to fill the void that no one has ever come close to when it comes to him. “Yeah, I’m just saying, it’s a little weird to me, but I’m happy that you’re happy.” You give Mark a playful shove as you two walk inside his hall and go up to his room. You and Mark haven’t had much time together since you and Haechan started ‘dating’ and today was one of the days you two planned on studying in silence till you both grew bored and ended up listening to music.

“What’s on the agenda today? I got a psych essay to get out of the way.”

“I have some more lab work to go over, but I’m essay free.”

Mark opens his door for you and follows behind as you set your bag down beside his desk. The two of you go about doing your work as your phone starts to buzz on the desktop. Picking it up, you see you have missed texts from Haechan and a few missed calls. Just as you’re about to call him back, his name pops across your screen. Swiping across your phone, you bring it to your ear. “Hey, I’m so sorry my phone was on silent and I just now—“

“Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you by your last class for hours.”

Judging by his tone, he seems annoyed. You felt guilty, forgetting to text him before you met up with Mark to let him know of your plans. “I’m so sorry, Mark and I met up and were studying in his room.” Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes if you could see him. “I’m on my way, meet me in the car.” With that, he hung up as you let out a sigh. “Who was that?” You’re packing up your bags as you look over at the window. It’s raining outside and it doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon. “Haechan, he called and wanted me to meet him outside, i kinda forgot to tell him I was coming with you and he’s kinda upset.” Mark gave you an apologetic smile to which you returned. “Be careful out there and don’t worry, I doubt he’s that mad, okay?”

You simply nod and bid him a goodbye before leaving his room and heading downstairs. When you go out the front doors, Haechan is already parked out front and you hold your bag to your chest to protect it from getting soaked as you run down to his car and quickly get inside. Haechan was gripping the wheel as he stared down at his lap, not looking your way once as you shut the door as you got in and placed your bag between your legs rather than in the back seat. “You okay hyuck?”

Haechan was quiet, you knew he was upset, but you’re starting to think there were underlying reasons as to why. “Why didn’t you tell me you were with Mark.” You bite your lip, furrowing your brows as you reach over to touch him. “I said i was sorry, it completely slipped my mind and I didn’t mean to not tell you, he just asked me if we could hang out since we haven’t recently.”

“How hard is it to send a simple text, y/n?” He definitely was pissed, his knuckles turning an off shade of white with how tight he was gripping the wheel. “Why are you so mad, you know Mark, it wasn’t like I was out with someone random?”

“I’m pissed because I had someone come up to me asking why my girlfriend was walking off giggling with some guy, you ever think of that?”

He’s unbelievable, he’s literally unbelievable. The nagging feeling that this whole situation wasn’t going to end well resurfaces without hesitation, leaving you with a sense of deja vu. “Fake girlfriend, did you forget that?” Haechan laughs, not a genuine laugh, but a laugh that almost felt forced. “You’re right, how could I forget, I mean you’ve done it before so I’m not surprised you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what exactly, donghyuck.”

“Stealing Mark away, taking all of his precious time and acting as if I don’t exist.” His words hit you hard, bringing you back to the day you two first parted ways. When Haechan first introduced you and Mark, there was no doubt in his mind that you two would get along and he was looking forward to spending his days with both of his closest friends, but even at such a young age, jealousy got the best of him. Upon meeting, you and Mark clicked as if you were meant to be friends, talking and laughing together while Haechan stood silently and felt lonely. He didn’t like how quickly you got along with Mark, he didn’t like how much he hated bringing you two together, he especially didn’t like how much resentment he felt towards you even if he didn’t know what he was feeling.

He told you he hated you that day, out of anger and hurt. Not once did he mean it, in fact there were so many times he had wished he never said it and turned the clocks back to keep him from hurting you so badly. The damage had already been done, tears falling down your young cheeks when he told you he had never wanted to be your friend again. You were confused, hurt and overall overwhelmed with the events that happened that day, but you turned your sadness into the same hatred he said he had for you and from then, the two of you never had a nice thing to say about one another. Now here you were, sitting in his car with the hopes of you two finally making progress gone.

“I don’t steal his time, he gives it to me, but you wouldn’t know that because you force people to be around you.” You didn’t mean it, you didn’t even want to say it, but haechan was prideful and used his words to hurt others when he was hurting and you weren’t going to let him win again. “Did you forget that I’m your first actual boyfriend and I’m not even dating you, it’s kind of pathetic you had to get a fake boyfriend to even know what it’s like to have one.” You didn’t realize when you started crying or why you were crying in the first place. Maybe it was because you were angry, angry that he was angry at you over something so little and so stupid. Maybe it was because he hurt you and continues to hurt you over and over and the lines between what was real and what was fake have been blurred.

“Fuck you haechan, I mean honestly, I thought maybe you’d change, maybe the boy i knew then was still there.” He still wasn’t looking at you, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes and see the damage he’s done. “Maybe you didn’t know me at all.” He knew it before you said it, that everything the two of you had been building up to for nearly a month was all over. He didn’t want to believe till you said it, but deep down he knew. “Fuck this, fuck your stupid little plan to get your shitty ex back and fuck you.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and got out of his car, leaving Haechan with his thoughts and the tears that slid down his cheeks as he watched you walk away. Part of you wanted to go back inside to Mark’s room, but that would mean you’d have to explain everything and that was all too much for you to unpack right now. Instead, you walked back to your hall, soaking from head to toe by the time you made it to your room. Wonchae was sitting in her bed when you came in, immediately questioning you why you were soaking wet, but when she realized you were crying, she took you into her arms and held you till you settled down.

That night all the girls came over and stayed with you till you cried yourself to sleep. You had come clean to them all, telling them about the pretend dating to help him get his ex back all the way to your childhood with Haechan and even the fallout of your friendship. You even told them about the feelings you were harboring, sobbing through your broken words. They tried to reassure you, telling you that they believed there was something real between you and Haechan, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them, not after what you just went through with him. Thankfully for you, it was a weekend and you didn’t have classes till the following Monday and that meant you didn’t have to try and avoid him as much as possible.

By the beginning of the week, you do your best to dodge him in any way. You stopped going to the Neo cafe for the first week, Sin-ra taking the initiative to bring you your drink every morning before your first class. In the class you shared with him, at first you’d sit in the very back to avoid being near him and people quickly took notice. It wasn’t long before whispers started going around that you two had broken up and Mark was a part of some of the rumors. When he got wind of everything, you told him the same thing you told your friends and he apologized to you for everything. After so many years, he finally knew why you and Haechan stopped being friends and he felt responsible for that, but you reassured him that there was nothing he could’ve done then or now.

It was nearing your last week for your project and you’re sitting in your shared class with Haechan who was nowhere to be seen. As you’re leaving when the professor tells everyone class was dismissed, your professor stops you and asks you to stay behind. “I wanted you to know that Donghyuck already submitted his portion of the project, so I’ll only need the remaining 25% from you.” You’re confused and it’s evident on your face as you grip the bag over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but we agreed to split it down the middle, what did he submit already?”

“Are you sure? He emailed me this morning and submitted the essay portion and said you’d do the final draft on the slide presentation. Get with him and let me know before the deadline.” You simply nod and bid him a farewell as you leave your last class for the day. There are so many thoughts in your head as you pull your phone from your pocket and just as you’re about to text Haechan, you bump into someone on your way out. “Oh I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, I’m so—y/n?”

When you look up from your phone, you see Johnny standing in front of you. He was a little taken aback to see you, but still happy that he ran into you. “Oh hey, what’s up?” The two of you make small talk as you stand outside the building, chatting about the little things in life. “Oh before I forget, you’re coming to the party tonight right?” You’re unsure what to tell him, your silence leaving open room to answer. “It’s okay if you can’t make it, Haechan said you two were working on a big project so I get why you haven’t been around, but if you come tonight we’d be happy to have you.” Hearing Haechan’s name felt almost foreign, having neither your friends or Mark even uttering his name over these last few weeks. “I’ll see if i can make it.” Johnny gives you a genuine smile before heading off and you two go your own ways. When you make it back to your hall, Wonchae and Yechae are sitting on Wonchae’s bed as they watch a movie on her laptop.

“Wanna watch the movie with us, I can put it on the tv?” You smile at Yechae’s offer, but simply shake your head. “I’m gonna go to sleep instead, thank you though.” You slip underneath your blanket and lay in bed till your eyes get too heavy to keep open anymore. You’re not sure what time it was when your phone starts going off, waking you from your peaceful sleep. Your fumble as you sit up in bed, grabbing your phone from your side table. Through tired eyes, you see an unknown number calling you and hesitantly, you slide across your phone to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/n, we need you here! Haechan is whining for you.” You recognize Johnny’s voice, the mention of Haechan’s name sending a rush of adrenaline through your body. “Where is he?” You try to be as quiet as you can, looking over at Wonchae and Yechae cuddling silently in her bed. “He’s upstairs, I kind of lost him when I was busy cleaning up his puke, but I managed to snatch his phone before he disappeared to call you.” With a heavy sigh, you climb out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt before telling Johnny you’re on your way. Without a car, you’d have to walk all the way to the frat house where the party was thrown, but it’d take too long for you to get there so you opt to run instead as you mentally thank yourself for taking track one year in high school.

As you’re reaching the doors to the house, you’re panting and out of breath while dragging yourself inside. Pretty much everyone was gone and the scattered cups on the ground gave you an idea of how the night went. Johnny was crouched down picking things up off the floor when you walked in, looking your way as you tried to catch your breath. “Oh hey y/n, you okay? You look kind of..sweaty.” You shook your head as your hands rested on your hips, taking in slow deep breaths to steady your breathing. “Where is he?” You were here to find Haechan, as much as you wanted to make small talk with Johnny, you were too tired to even try. “Check his room, Taeyong should still be up there with him.” Nodding, you drag your feet towards the staircase and tiredly make your way to the top. Going solely off memory, you walk down the hallway till you’re standing in front of Haechan’s room. From inside, you can hear faint crying and Taeyong’s voice.

Pushing the door open gently, you see Haechan sitting on his bed with a cup of water in his hand while Taeyong is sitting beside him. When he noticed your entrance, Taeyong stood up from the bed and silently walked towards you. He placed his hand gently on your shoulder before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. You stood in the middle of the room, staring at the boy who was silently sniffling as he stared down at his cup in his hand. “Do you have your keys, I can bring you to your room if you do.” He simply shook his head, gripping the cup in his hand. A sigh left your lips as you turned to his closet, rummaging through his clothes. “W-what are you doing?” You pull a shirt off a hanger, walking over to him. “You can’t sleep in that, it has liquids on it.” Haechan stays still, as if he was frozen in time. His body shook slightly every time he hiccuped, but he didn’t bother moving.

“Get changed please, I’ll leave so you can—“

“Please don’t leave me.”

You’re biting your bottom lip as you see his head rise, meeting his swollen and teary eyes. “Just for tonight, I just need you tonight.” He looked so sad, tears dried on his cheeks as he fought back the tears. You should’ve left, hell you shouldn’t have even come, but you needed to make sure he was okay and from the looks of it, he was far from it. “I’ll turn around, but you need to get out of your clothes and into something to sleep in.” Silently, he stands from his bed and sets the cup on his desktop. You handed him the shirt you grabbed from his closet, walking towards the door and facing away so that he could get dressed. After a few minutes pass, Haechan tells you he’s done and you turn around to him laying in his bed on one side, leaving space for you on the other.

Walking over after turning off the light, you pull back the blanket and slide into the space he’s left you. The two of you lay in silence, the moonlight shining through the cracks of his window cover. “I’m sorry.” Haechan’s voice was barely over a whisper, but neither of you could bring it to look at each other. “You’re drunk, you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You could feel how tense he was beside you, if you reached out to him you were afraid he’d fall apart. “I’m sober enough to know what I'm saying and I need you to believe me on that.” You shift onto your side, tucking your underneath his pillow as your eyes fall to the side of his face. He can feel your gaze on him, waiting for him to continue. “I didn’t mean anything I said that day, even back when we were kids.

“I was jealous of your friendship with Mark, in a way I still am because he’s been by your side this whole time and because of my insecurities, I missed all of that.” You knew he had a hard time believing in people after he had been let down many times before, you understood where he was coming from, but that doesn’t justify his actions. “I’m sorry you had to come out here at this hour, I don’t remember much of what I said to the boys, but it was enough for them to call you and for that, i'm sorry for wasting your time.”

The light coming from his window was just enough for you to see the tear that slid from his eye down the side of his face. “Was she here tonight?” You knew it was none of your business, you had no right to be asking him this, but part of you needed to know. “Yeah.”

“Did you guys get back together, I mean that was the whole point of this right?”

Haechan turns on his side to face you, tucking his arm underneath his head to prop himself up to your eye level. “She tried, but I told her it was over when she left me for that guy.” You’re a bit taken aback, why did he turn her down? What was the point of all of this if it was not for him to win her back. “Why, didn’t you want her back?” Haechan’s eyes locked with yours, searching them for something to give him the confidence to go on. He could see it in your eyes, but for so long he had been too scared to ruin what you two were building. “Spending this time with you blurred everything around me y/n, she was what I thought I wanted, but it wasn’t till I lost you that I knew what I needed instead.”

You felt speechless, staring at him with parted lips. He had just confessed that you were what he wanted and that alone made your head feel dizzy. Now lies the difficult decision, to lie and pretend you don’t feel anything to protect yourself or run to him and trust that he’ll protect you instead and all the love you have in your heart for him. “Say something please.” Hesitantly, you bring a hand up to his face, brushing his hair back to get the best view of him as possible. “Looks like we have a problem.”

“And that is?”

“I broke one of the two rules we made, well technically I broke them both but the first rule was broken after you were an asshole.” Haechan sat up, propping himself on his elbow as he stared down at you. “Does that mean I can kiss you?” A smile spreads across his lips as he watches the light reflect in your eyes. You give him a nod, all the confirmation he needed to lean down and capture your lips within his. The kiss felt familiar, like he had done this a million times before. Your arm wraps around his neck, pulling him close to you as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. The two of you healed a part of you that was long overdue, the two best friends within you now reunited. Now that you’re older, you not only have your best friend back, but the young boy you loved is too there beside you.

so for starters if you’ve gotten this far, why thank you pook 🥹i’m really sorry if the ending feels rushed, i’ve never written something this long before so i was struggling i tell ya🥲🫂 and i just wanna say ily and you’re doing great and if you liked it,, pls lmk! it always helps when you share your thoughts w me 🫶

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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 17

George is so sweet to put so much effort into helping Ringo write his song and to not ask for any kind of writing credit. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, right? But also, I’d do that for Ringo too if I were him. Ringo deserves it for everything he’s given to that band and the little credit he’s received.

“What am I playing, Richie?” “You’ll be on drooms.” If the Beatles know how to do one thing, it’s be cute.

John, stop talking about Paul’s strong arms, you're embarrassing yourself.

I do have to just include this here. From my Get Back book. I never heard, “was it sexually oriented?” on the nagra reels, but apparently that’s what Peter Jackson’s cleaned-up version gave him, and again, he was like, “hmm. Too gay.”

He’s known Heather for how long? Less than a year, right? But if somebody had showed me just this footage and told me he’d raised her from a newborn, I would not blink an eye. That kind of tired but fond interaction is exactly how a dad plays with his kid. And she’s climbing all over him and bossing him around like he’s never not been in her life. It’s beautiful.

And John, with his “are you going to eat them?” is the perfect sort of bad-example favorite uncle. The kind that would check her out of school when she’s older and go get her ears pierced when her dad had said she was too young.

Sorry, I promise I’m not just going to be thirsting over dad Paul this whole time. I have to just make one thing clear, and this is the only thing I’ll say on the subject and then I’m done. If a man is a 3 and a good dad, he’s a 10. Paul was already an 11, so I’m literally just done-for. Okay, I’ll shut up.

John and Paul doing their usual thing, only paying attention to each other. Talking about an Elvis gospel ending for Let it Be. George, smirking, stands up: and we’ll all kneel as you do it. If John had said it, Paul would be in stitches. But George said it, and he might as well have never opened his mouth for all the notice he gets. And it’s honestly heartbreaking, if you can take your eyes off of the insanity of John and Paul’s weird eye-contact, to watch George’s face go from excited at his own wit and hopeful for a laugh to just completely downcast. Twelve years of that. Twelve years.

Ringo, you’re an absolute saint. He’s being so sweet to Heather, even letting her mess with his symbols, and then Paul has the audacity to tell him to “keep it lighter.” Like. Paul. Do you think that maybe the fact that he’s got a five-year-old over there “helping” him might have anything to do with how the drums are coming out? Just a thought. Anyone else would at least have something to say about it. Ringo just sort of nods along but he looks SO tired.

TFW you’re inspiring the next generation of women to be loud and free and take up space.

“Dig it” is actually insane to me. I know I’m crazy, but remember those twin dreams they had about buried treasure when they first met? “If you want it, you can dig it up.” ???

When George and Paul just jump into harmonizing together when they’re talking about The Long and Winding Road arrangement? Their voices are like magic together. I wish they would’ve had George sing that part in the final thing, actually.

#that's all for today folks #even later then last time #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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suzukiblu · 5 months

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Thank-you Ko-fi sentences for @beatrice-otter; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

“Um, can we maybe sit for a bit?” Billy suggests, gesturing towards the bean bag chairs. They look comfier than the couch to him. Which is saying something, because the couch looks really comfy. “I wanna tell you something before you decide if you wanna stay here. Well, there’s a few things we should talk about before you decide that, probably? But this one’s kinda the weirdest one.”

“. . . fine,” Superboy says warily, and they both sit on the bean bags. Superboy looks a little bewildered by them; Billy represses another wince. Maybe Cadmus didn’t teach him about bean bag chairs?

That sucks, if they didn’t.

Well, at least Superboy didn't say “no” this time. Although Billy hopes Superboy saying “fine” doesn't actually mean “no”, now that he's thinking of it, because that'd be–

Yeah, okay, Billy needs to not second-guess literally everything Superboy says, so they're definitely gonna have to have the “no” talk ASAP.

“Okay, cool,” Billy says as he settles in carefully on his own bean bag, which is a little awkward because he’s about twice the size he was the last time he sat on one, but he figures it out eventually. This is a weird conversation to have, definitely, but it’s not really . . . like, it’d be bad to lie to Superboy about this, even if he’s gonna keep lying to the Justice League, so . . . well, lying to his co-workers isn’t like lying to his kid, he thinks. Like–it’s definitely not. “Okay, so the thing is, uh, to be totally honest here I'm actually only like twelve years older than you, so I know this whole situation is a liiiiittle weird, but I think it'll be great! And I've really only been doing the superhero thing for a couple of years myself but I can definitely still help you with your powers and with learning how to get along with normal humans and that kind of stuff!”

Superboy stares at him in bemusement. Billy has to repress a wince again. Bemused staring is . . . not great. Though it could be worse, really.

“. . . wait, are you human?” Superboy asks with a slow frown. “You don't look human. You don't have pores or any variation in skin pigmentation and your face is perfectly symmetrical. And your irises don't have spokes.”

“Uh, well, technically I'm human but, uh, please don't tell anybody cuz I reaaaaally don't wanna explain that to the Justice League,” Billy says, wincing after all, and then adds in a mutter, “At least not any time in the next six years, anyway.”

“Okay,” Superboy says, sounding skeptical. But he doesn’t sound mad or weirded out, so . . . that’s a good sign, right? Billy thinks that’s a good sign. So–good! That’s good, that Superboy isn’t immediately freaked out by him only being twelve or walking straight out the door. Like, that’s a relief. So this is going great so far!

“. . . you’re really only twelve years older than me?” Superboy asks, his frown deepening a little as he looks Billy over. Billy grins sheepishly. He’d show him, obviously, but he’s pretty sure Batman’s surveilling the apartment at least a little bit while they settle in and he doesn’t want him seeing the lightning hit, sooooo . . . yeah, not right now.

Anyway, if he’s being a dad he should be dad-shaped, right? Being dad-shaped is better! And like this he’s big enough to hug Superboy really good and maybe carry him around and stuff like that, and he knows most little kids like being carried, and . . . well, his dad always did that kind of stuff for him, so . . .

He just wants to be a good dad. His was . . . his was really great, and Superboy should get to have a great dad too.

“Um, yeah, but please don't tell anyone that either, the League would be so freaking weird about it,” Billy says, still sheepish.

“. . . sure,” Superboy says, still frowning a little. Billy beams at him. This is going really good, yeah! Well, Superboy’s gotta be used to weird age-related stuff, considering he’s technically a baby himself but also “old” enough to understand a lot more than a regular baby would be able to. So yeah, that’s pretty helpful.

Awesome.

#beatrice-otter #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 5 months

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The Holidays are Better With You - S.Snape

Summary - The potions master and the muggle studies professor are missing during dinner on Christmas Eve. A certain cat animagus takes it upon herself to find the pair, only to find the two of them enjoying some quality time in the Astronomy Tower.

Word Count - 617

Warnings - female reader, use of Y/N, Minerva is the last one to find out a secret

Author's Note - This is a little later than I wanted but welcome to day Twelve! All of my classwork is done so I am free from college until my winter class starts. I have 8 days of freedom to try and write as much as I can so stay tuned and enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

Severus Snape, even just the name of the man would send a shiver down any students’ spine. However, these students never knew the man he was deep down, the man he buried because of countless trauma and heartache. The other professors knew who he actually was because most of them taught him when he was at Hogwarts himself. What they never realized was the fact that he was absolutely smitten with the muggle studies professor.

The two had grown up together, they used to do everything together, even at Hogwarts. Both of them had been sorted into Slytherin, their housemates seeing them in the same corner of the common room more often than not. The two of them still found a way to isolate themselves in a different area, spending time together in the astronomy tower.

As most of the students had returned home, Severus and Y/N had stayed at Hogwarts with the other professors. At dinner on Christmas Eve, Minerva had noticed that the two older Slytherins were missing, so she took it upon herself to go find them. She searched everywhere, her final spot to search was the Astronomy tower. She thought that it was a good time to transform herself into a cat so that way she could be a little more stealthy. Due to her new found stealth, she could walk quieter into the tower where she heard the voices of the two missing professors.

“It’s beautiful up here, with all the snow,” Y/N had said, turning to the man beside her.

“I hate the snow,” He had said, winding his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

“I know you do.”

Minerva quietly approached the pair watching as their lips met. She almost jumped in surprise. “I love you, Severus Snape. Happy Christmas.”

“I love you, Y/N Snape. The holidays are so much better with you,” Severus responded, taking note of a certain cat lurking by their feet, “Minerva, if you wanted to join us, you could have just asked.”

The Gryffindor transformed herself back with a grin on her face. “You’re married! I thought you had a thing for Lily Potter. I would have never guessed that you were infatuated with Y/N,” Minerva exclaimed in surprise.

“It’s always been Y/N. She knows me better than myself," he admitted.

“And he knows me better than myself,” She added in a chipper tone, just happy to be in the arms of her love and chatting with a dear friend. They stood in the tower for hours just talking, more like Minerva asking them questions about their relationship and then answering.

They talked until the moon was high in the sky, the time officially reaching midnight. “I think it’s time to call it a night. Minerva, if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the start of the holiday with my husband. Happy Christmas and goodnight,” Y/N excused herself and her husband as they went off to his quarters. Minerva left at the top of the tower with a gentle smile on her face, feeling a sense of pride for the couple.

The sneaky professor had too decided to turn in for the night, not before mentioning the couple to Sybil and Albus.

“I had predicted and knew about this years ago. Where have you been?” Sybil asked her friend.

“I was their witness when they got married, they needed one and asked me. I’m surprised you didn’t know Minerva. You do tend to know everything and all of the gossip,” Albus chimed in.

“Was I the last to find out? How did I not know about them?”

“You aren’t the last, the students are.”

#harry potter #professor snape #pro snape #snape fanfiction #severus snape #severus snape x reader #snape #snape fandom #severus #severus snape imagine #pro severus snape #severus x reader #pro severus #snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #snape x y/n #snape x you

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captainsophiestark · 2 years

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Twelve-Year-Olds

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for the Hot Writer Summer Challenge, run by @mermaidxatxheart! Thanks again for hosting the challenge, this was super fun!

Fandom: Top Gun

Prompt/Trope: Locked in a Room

Summary: Y/N tutors Amelia Benjamin, the daughter of none other than Penny Benjamin. When Penny and Mav are away on their honeymoon, however, Y/N finally gets to meet the fourth member of their little family, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. And when he makes the mistake of calling Amelia a twelve-year-old, she takes matters into her own hands to get him back for it while ALSO getting two of her favorite people to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 2,335

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Alright, you said your brother was coming to pick you up?" I asked, helping Amelia gather her things before swinging her backpack onto her shoulder.

"Sort of. He's not really my brother, but he acts like one," she said.

"Hm. Alright..."

I didn't push for more details as we headed out of the library together. I'd been tutoring Amelia for a few months now, and we'd quickly become good friends even though I was a lot older than her. She was my favorite student I'd had to date, and I had to admit, I was a little jealous that someone else who wasn't related to her had grabbed the honorary sibling title before me.

Still, I was happy she was so happy. Her mom usually picked her up, and when her mom wasn't free her now-stepdad rolled up on his motorcycle, much to Amelia's excitement. Her mom and now-official step-dad had recently gotten married, and were currently on their honeymoon. Which left the sort-of brother to pick her up.

"You know, it's not gonna be much longer before you get your license," I mused, giving Amelia an exaggerated grin. "Pretty soon you're going to be driving yourself to and from school and tutoring and whatever else."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna steal Mav's motorcycle to do it."

"Atta girl!"

We laughed and shared a high five as we walked down the library steps. A tall, handsome man with aviators and a mustache waited, his arms crossed as he leaned against a car I recognized as Penny's Porsche.

"Hey! What are you doing with my mom's car?" Amelia called as we approached him. Apparently, this was the sort-of older brother.

"It's my payment for babysitting you while Mav and your mom are gone," he called back. "I get to drive the Porsche and the bike."

"Well that's dumb. You could've gotten cash. Put it towards buying your own bike."

He just scoffed and rolled his eyes, then looked to me as Amelia and I came to a stop in front of him. He gave me a charming smile and offered his hand for a shake.

"Rooster," he said as I took his hand.

"Y/N," I replied. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too. All this kid does is talk you up. Honestly, I've been getting a little jealous."

I smiled. "Well, don't worry, because she's been saying nothing but good things about you, too. I was actually feeling a little jealous myself."

"Well, cheers to that," he said with another gorgeous smile and a wink. We held each others' stares for a few beats, and I could feel my face heating up. We both snapped out of it when Amelia loudly cleared her throat.

"Let's go, Rooster. I'm hungry and I have stuff to do."

"Alright, alright, relax. We're going." He looked back at me again. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."

"You too, Rooster. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe you will."

He shot me one last grin as he walked around to the driver's side of the car, Amelia climbing into the passenger's side. She waved at me out the window as the pair pulled away, and I watched them disappear down the road.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then forced myself to put Rooster out of my mind. I had other things to do today besides be distracted by Amelia's handsome sort-of older brother.

************

Amelia's POV

"You think she's cute, don't you?" I asked, poking Rooster in the side as he pulled away from the library where we'd left Y/N.

"What? Amelia, come on."

I snorted. "If that's the best response you've got then you must really have a thing for her."

"I do not have a thing for her. What do you know, anyway? Aren't you like twelve?"

"I'm fifteen!"

"Same difference."

I scowled at him, but he just grinned. I huffed and crossed my arms, staring out the window instead of at Rooster. If he was going to be an idiot about it, then I was going to take matters into my own hands.

Maybe I even would've tried to loop him in if he hadn't called me twelve.

****************

Y/N's POV

I wandered into the bar owned by Amelia's mom a few weeks later, tentatively putting my head through the door first before stepping all the way inside. Amelia had asked me to do our tutoring session here today, before the bar opened, since she was apparently going sailing with her mom right after our lesson.

"Y/N!" Amelia called happily, waving me over from the far side of the bar. I smiled and walked to meet her, much more confident now that I knew I hadn't accidentally wandered in somewhere I wasn't supposed to go.

"Hey, Amelia. How's it going? This place looks great."

"Thanks," she said. "I'll tell my mom you said so."

"Where is she, by the way?"

"She's working on the boat with Mav. We're all going to sail it over to the shop later, since it needs some repairs and Maverick doesn't know how to fix boats."

"Isn't he in the navy?"

"That's what my mom always says."

We shared a laugh as I sat down next to Amelia. I unloaded all the books from my bag, setting them out in front of us, then opened the first one.

"Alright, let's get started..."

We worked for our usual hour, with Maverick and Penny breezing through a few times to say hi. I couldn't stop myself from hoping Rooster might make an appearance, but he didn't. I tried to keep myself from feeling too disappointed.

We'd seen each other a few times now, since that first meeting. Usually in the context of him picking up Amelia. Every time I saw him, my heart beat a little faster, and although we didn't really have long conversations, they were good ones. I found myself thinking about him a lot more often than I wanted to admit.

Finally, at the end of the hour, I wrapped up the lesson and Amelia and I put away all the notes and notebooks. Penny and Maverick wandered back in, both of them ready to get on the boat with Amelia now that she was free.

"I'll be right down," Amelia told her parents. "Just need to put my books away."

"Alright. We'll see you down there," said Maverick, giving me a wave as he went. Penny smiled and kissed Amelia on the head, ruffling her hair as she pulled away.

"Thanks for coming here today, Y/N," she said. "It's always a pleasure to have you around."

"It's a pleasure to be around," I replied with a smile. "I'm sure it's no secret, but I absolutely adore Amelia. She's one heck of a good kid."

"She sure is." Penny smiled fondly at her daughter, then took a few backwards steps to follow Maverick down to the boat. "We'll see you soon I'm sure, Y/N."

I smiled and waved as she went, and Amelia struggled to shove the rest of her books into her bag.

"Do you want help with that?" I asked. She huffed, tried for another minute, then shoved it towards me.

"Yes please."

I smiled and started working on the bag. Amelia shifted anxiously from foot to foot while she waited, and I could tell she was itching to get out of here and join her parents on the boat.

"You want me to put these away for you somewhere?" I asked. "If it's close, I can wrap this up and you can go help your parents."

"Yes please! Thank you so much! They go in the back closet, on the top shelf. I'll take them home later tonight, when we all get back."

"Sounds good. Have a fun trip over, and try to teach Mr. Navy something about boats while you're out there, alright?"

"Oh please," said Amelia. "He's hopeless."

I chuckled as she marched out of the room in a whirlwind. Finally, I managed to get the last of the books into the bag. I headed for the closet Amelia had pointed towards, carefully maneuvering around the crates and boxes towards the shelving in the back. I'd just reached up to put the bag on the top shelf when I heard a commotion behind me.

"Come on, Rooster, it'll just take a second!"

"Amelia, what the hell are you- Hey!"

I whirled around to find Rooster stumbling through the closet door. A look at the doorway showed Amelia standing there, apparently after shoving him, a massive grin on her face.

"Don't waste this opportunity by being stupid," she cheerfully instructed him. I started to ask what the hell she was doing, but before I could, she slammed the closet door on us. I heard the click of a lock.

A second later, Rooster was at the door, hammering at it with one fist while he tried the doorknob with the other. No luck.

"Amelia! Amelia, you get back here and open this door right now!" he yelled. As expected, he got no response.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, walking over to Rooster. He grimaced, looked at me, then turned back to the door.

"I don't know," he muttered. "Some kind of dumb prank, probably."

I put a hand on my hip and raised an eyebrow.

"Since when does Amelia pull dumb pranks?"

Rooster sighed and lowered his head before finally taking a step away from the door and looking at me. To my surprise, he had a faint blush on his neck.

"She's trying to mess with me," he finally said, running a hand through his hair. "She keeps insisting that I have a thing for you, and I called her a twelve-year-old, so... I guess this is her payback."

"Oh."

We stood there for a few beats, avoiding looking at each other, and then I took a deep breath.

"Was she right? Do you have a thing for me?" I physically cringed at the awkwardness of the question, but I had to know. Rooster's blush deepend.

"I mean, I..." he cleared his throat and fidgeted. "I definitely think you're... cute."

He immediately scrunched up his face like he was kicking himself for the words that had just come out of his mouth. I could relate.

"Well..." I managed. "I, uh... I think you're cute, too."

His head snapped up to look at me, disbelief and hope written all over his face. I gave him a tentative smile.

"You do?" I nodded. He laughed and smiled, the tension easing out of his body. I felt the tension washing out of the room. "God, look at us. We're fully grown adults stumbling over admitting a crush for each other in a closet like it's middle school. Now who's twelve?"

"I feel like Amelia was hoping we'd be at exactly this point when she shoved you in here," I agreed. He nodded, then took a deep breath.

"So... as much as I hated being called out for it, I actually have had a thing for you since that first day we met. You're smart, you're funny, you're frankly gorgeous... what more could a guy ask for?"

I smiled at the floor, trying not to combust on the spot from the compliments.

"I feel the same way," I said. After a beat, I brought myself to meet Rooster's eyes again. "You're hysterical, and I love watching how you are with Amelia. And I almost tripped down the steps you were so handsome when I first walked out of the library."

He laughed good-naturedly, a smile staying on his face as he took a few steps towards me.

"So does this mean if I ask you on a date, you'll say yes?"

"Mmm, I don't know. Give it a try and let's find out."

He grinned and took a few more steps towards me. He stopped just a few inches from me, then put his arm against the wall next to my head and leaned against it. My heart sped up.

"Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me? Like as soon as we get out of this damn closet?"

"Absolutely," I said, unable to keep a massive smile off my face. He smiled too, then pushed off the wall and headed back to the door.

"Alright, I'm getting us out of here. And then we can go grab a coffee from a nice place I know, if that sounds good?"

"That sounds great."

He shot me another smile, and my heart melted. Then, he turned to the door with determination. I could see he was about to break it down, so I quickly stepped in.

"I think I might have an easier solution," I said. He watched carefully as I took Amelia's backpack off the shelf and dug through it until I found a few spare bobby pins. I bent them into long, straight-ish tools, then moved back to the door.

"Are you about to pick the lock with bobby pins?" asked Rooster. I hummed in confirmation. "That is so badass. And so hot."

I laughed and shot him a smile over my shoulder, then went back to working on the door. I hadn't practiced my lock-picking skills since I'd been obsessed with spy novels in college, so it took me a little longer than I would've liked, but eventually the lock clicked open.

"You. Are. Amazing," said Rooster as I straightened and turned to him with a grin.

"Thank you. I try my best. Now let's go get that coffee, shall we?"

I held out a hand, and Rooster didn't hesitate before taking it. He pulled me closer to him as we stepped out of the closet and headed for the doors of the bar, and I happily leaned into him.

Amelia was never going to let it go that she was right and that she technically deserved the credit for getting us together. I quickly decided I didn't care, though. I had a good feeling that Rooster would be worth it.

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abeautylives · 25 days

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Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 1

author’s note: I’m really excited to have something to share with you guys. It’s written from a diff POV than I usually do, but my main character girly pop has a lot of personality 😘 Big big big thank you to bff @samkiszkasfacialhair for all the help, the ideas, and the motivation 🤍

pairing: female!OCxkiszkas (just read it, you’ll figure it out)

time frame: 2010-2014

word count: 5.7k this part

warnings: language, illicit substance use, rampant teenage emotions and delulu, kissing, josh 🥺

I don’t actually remember the day I met Sam Kiszka.

Not the date, or even the day of the week. I do know what year it was, because it was the year my mom moved us to this quaint (read: weird) little town. Charming, but weird. And boring.

Boring, until I met Sam.

Eleven-year-old Sam was a menace, but twelve-year-old me was bored. So obviously, we became the best of friends. He taught me how to light a firecracker, I had an endless supply of Barbies to blow up. He showed me how to slip out of my bedroom window without making a sound, I told him how to impress girls without grossing them out. In our early teenage years, he introduced me to drugs and I taught him how to unclasp a bra. Chill out, it was weed, and I wasn’t even wearing the bra.

My mom just loved that I’d made such a great friend.

The first time I was allowed to play at his house I met his sister, who was closer to my age, but it was too late. Sam and I were already attached at the hip, though mine sat an inch or two higher than his for a couple of years, until a growth spurt and puberty eventually left him with the height advantage.

That was when he stopped calling me by my name, and started calling me Tiny. Like I said, a menace.

“You’re the coolest girl I know, even if you’re vertically challenged.”

Please note: the first time he said this to me, he had finally just surpassed me in height by half an inch.

Then of course, there were the twins. You’d think the eldest siblings would not have become a big part of my life, but they were just always around, and actually liked hanging out with their baby brother. Close knit family and all that. It’s weird, right? At the wise and worldly age of twelve, the two fourteen-year-olds terrified me. Josh and Jake were both scary in their own way to a pubescent girl on the cusp of teenager-dom. Jake was pretty quiet, but his ego was not. He was hot, okay? In like, a Justin Bieber-y way but also kind of a jock-y way, but a jock with a guitar. Whatever, I’m only human.

Josh was… well, Josh was Josh. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and not necessarily in a good way. He was loud, like, all the time. He never seemed to stop talking and ended most of his sentences at an eardrum-piercing decibel level. Fortunately, or not, he didn’t get hot until I was old enough to obsess over it.

I’m sure I didn’t speak a coherent word to either of them the entire first year of my friendship with Sam.

I have a million memories of the time I spent with Sam and his family, but I have no recollection of the day I fell in love with Josh Kiszka.

But once I did, it was a deep, obsessive kind of love that only a teenager can achieve. One day he was my best friend’s eccentric older brother and the next…

Well, the next he was a rockstar.

I mentioned the whole jock with a guitar thing that Jake had going on, and that really hadn’t changed, but somewhere along the way Josh had transformed from a loud, annoying theater kid to a genuine, full blown vocalist. I mean, for a while he was both.

When they first started playing together, I only gave a shit because they’d roped Sam into it too and it took up way too much of his time. I’d watch them play, and they weren’t… bad? They weren’t good either. My time could have been better spent watching R rated movies (scandalous) or, I don’t know, doing my homework. But nope! We were in a band now.

They practiced, a lot. It felt like all they did was practice, for at least a couple years. And I just watched dutifully, every weekend of every month of every year. They did get better.

But here’s the thing. I was there for all of it. I was there the day Jake ran into the living room and snatched Sam up by the back of his shirt. Come on Sammy boy, we need you on bass. I was there the day their buddy Kyle sat down at the drum kit and completed the ensemble. (I was also there the day he got replaced.) And of course, I was there the day Josh pushed his voice past the instruments and the amps, and went from a weak imitation of a rock singer to something else all together. Something totally and completely him.

That’s not the day I fell in love with him (I would’ve remembered), but it was the first time he had ever… impressed me. And not that I cared, but Jake was impressed too. I saw it on his face.

It was cute. In like, a sweet, brotherly way.

Okay, anyway! The combination of Jake’s skill and Josh’s raw talent got them noticed. (Sammy’s talent would develop over time, I didn’t forget about him. Sam, you’re the most talented one in the band.) And then they were playing actual gigs. I wasn’t allowed to go to most of those early ones, because for some reason these dive bars were permitting these pint sized, teenage Zeppelin wannabes to perform at them. Old people like our parents loved that shit. The locals went crazy for it.

They played Fischer Hall a couple times, right there in town, but around their third or fourth gig there, Josh had unbuttoned the flowy, floral, women’s blouse he was wearing and took to the stage with it hanging open, beaded necklaces draped down his bare chest and curly hair wild.

Why was he sort of… ripped? How had I never noticed? Were his pants always so tight? And low cut? I was sweating. I didn’t even know he was literally cosplaying Robert Plant.

Did I fall in love with him that night? Of course not, I already told you I don’t remember the day that happened.

The Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I left my house around 8:30 to head to Sam’s. To my mom, this was an average Saturday night - I spent nearly all of them at Sam’s house, where his parents were always home. Ya know, or so mine thought. Whether the Kiszkas were actually home or not, we hung out in the garage.

That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was a really cool garage. With furniture and everything. And their instruments, a lot of them. I don’t know how every one of these guys knew how to play every instrument packed into that room, but they did. And by the time I was sixteen, they were really almost good at it.

(Jake was good. Very good… I told you he was hot.)

This particular Saturday though, this was going to be the Saturday that changed my life. And I wanted to dress the part.

In hindsight, I wore something I’d probably worn a hundred times. Then why had it taken me so long to get ready? I changed my jeans twice, my shirt at least ten times, added a sweater, threw it back on my bed, added a flannel, tossed that to the floor. Picked it back up and shoved my arms in, made sure it hung off my shoulder just so. Shoulders are sexy, right? Do guys like shoulders? Oh shit, what do guys even like?

Anyway, I left the house looking exactly as I always did.

I rode my bike slowly that night, already hyper aware of the sweat under my arms.

So I slowed my pedaling even further. When the house came into view, I hopped off the bike and walked it up the drive before tossing it to the grass outside the garage.

Okay, knock twice and just go in.

That’s what everyone always did, what I always did. Just knock twice then lift the door. Everyone was always welcome, come on in!

So go in, idiot.

Look, I did it eventually. Just like always, knock knock, lift the door enough to slip underneath, let it close behind me. Except when it rolled back to the ground, I lost my nerve and stood frozen there for a few seconds too long.

Sam called me out, because he’s a menace.

“The hell are you doing, Tiny? We started without you.”

I moved farther into the space, eyes bouncing between my options through the soft haze of pungent smoke that already hung over the room. There was my usual spot - on the floor, next to the spot where Sam sat cross-legged, his long frame folded and bent, his sharp elbows resting on his knees as he waited for the joint to make its way back to him.

Not tonight, I’m on a mission.

Jake sat to his left, in a well-worn, floral print wingback chair. It was comfortable enough for one person, decades of weight softening the strength of the cushion’s springs before it ever came to live in this particular garage. Jake’s body was slung over it, legs thrown haphazardly over an arm while his own were wrapped around an acoustic guitar. Typical. He tipped his chin at me from under the brim of a bucket hat, then nodded towards the floor beside him. Holy shit, does he want me to sit by him?! I think my fingers lifted in a barely-there wave but I’m not really sure they were functioning correctly.

Okay focus, he did not. Does not. Not in this lifetime.

Still without his next hit, Sam glanced up at me over his shoulder and patted the threadbare throw rug next to him. “Sit down weirdo, you’re making me paranoid.”

Nerves that I’d never, never, felt before in this room fluttered through my stomach, I let my gaze meet Sam’s before continuing the search for a place to plant myself.

There was really only one option left - the couch - and both ends were already occupied. Our friend Danny (Kyle’s replacement, sorry Kyle) was in the process of melting into the corner closest to Jake, his eyes glassy and already tinged pink when he looked up at me. Only his eyebrows lifted in greeting before he mirrored Sam’s offer to sit next to him, tapping the cushion beside him.

This is fine, totally normal! Danny was Sam’s other half. Well, his other male half. I guess we were in thirds. A trio.

I accepted the offering, stepping around the coffee table, scarred with years worth of “art” - drawings and carvings, a few discreet dirty words etched into the surface in between - to drop to the middle of the couch. One of Sam’s brows tipped up when I met his eyes again, his expression asking, “Dude, what gives?”

“Hey, you’re here!” He noticed me, finally. Silvery smoke crept from between his lips as he grinned, and I watched transfixed when they pursed together and he blew a cloud toward the ceiling. My stare was broken when he leaned across the table and passed the joint to an impatient Sam, but to the delight of the butterflies going nuts in the pit of my stomach, he leaned back into the cushions and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind me. EEEEP!

“Hey-“ It was a humiliating and unsexy croak, and I quickly cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Josh. Hi.”

His long hair was pulled back, his entire face available for my viewing pleasure. Things were going perfectly.

I joined the rotation, the weed easing the flutters caused by sitting so close to Josh, but amplifying the feeling that the other three were watching and wondering why I was acting so strange.

They were not. They were high.

Aside from the stray curious eyebrow from my BFF across the table, they actually acted like nothing was abnormal about my seating choice, even when I started to scooch imperceptibly to my left every time I adjusted the way I was sitting.

Pulled my legs up under me? Scooch.

Dropped them down so my sneakers met the cement? Scooch.

Crossed my left ankle over my right knee? Scooch.

It was totally subtle.

“I’m gonna grab a pop, you guys want anything?” Sam startled me out of a pleasant reverie as he jumped up from the floor, but my freaking knee was touching Josh’s knee! No I don’t want anything, I have everything I need right here!

It turned out Sam was a huge knee blocker. He gripped me by an elbow and peeled me from the couch as the others murmured at our retreating backs about needing Doritos. He pushed me out the side door and towards the house and had me in the kitchen before I could even tell him he was ruining everything!

Even through bleary, hooded eyes, his death glare was brutal.

“Saaammmmm, what are you doing?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, T?”

More glaring. He broke the glare-off first, jerking his head to the side to flick his hair out of his eyes and turning to open the refrigerator, but once his face was inside it, he called me out again.

“Why are you being so weird with Josh?”

I love him, I need him!

“Whaaa.. I don’t know what you mean. You’re just super high.” Yeah, I really thought that would work. Sue me!

Straightening to his full height (seriously, like two inches taller than me… maybe three), he spun to face me again. He actually looked down his nose at me.

“Do you like, like him? What the fuck, Tiny?” He whispered that last part, as if his parents were lurking around the corner waiting to bust him for cussing.

“Look, you wouldn’t understand Sam. I’m much older than y-“

“You’re not even an entire year older than me.”

“Eleven months is basically an entire ye-“

“That’s not the point!” That part was like whisper yelling. I swear it looked like he was yelling, but it sounded like he was whispering.

“Okay!” Yeah, I whisper yelled back. “Sammy, I like him… I’m sorry! I don’t even know when it happened but I woke up one day and I realized that he’s perfect! He’s funny and nice and he’s so… so… cute! Okay? He’s so cute I wanna die and I love him!”

Sam’s eyes were wide, as wide as they could be under the circumstances, and he stared at me like I’d grown another head. With a horn coming out of it.

“You love him. You realize how dumb you sound right now?”

Dumb? No no, this was serious. I pleaded with my best friend for forgiveness. And his help. “Sam… please. Don’t be mad at me, I- I don’t know, I can’t help it! That’s just how I feel, and I want him to like me back!” That’s when it hit me, I needed a wingman for this plan.

“Can you help me get him to like me back?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip stuck out and everything. As if that had ever worked in the four years we’d known each other so far.

“Fuck no.” His eyes moved side to side, looking for sneaky parents again I guessed. “Definitely not. Why do you have to like my brother, dude? That’s sick, it’s like incest or something!” He stomped his feet a little, and I couldn't help but think it made him look like a child. He was a child! This was serious, grown-up shit and I didn’t have time to play games.

“Ugh, if you’re not gonna help me then at least get out of my way.” I pushed past him and headed back out of the house and into the garage. Not much had changed when I got there, but Danny must have left while Sam and I were gone. The entire couch was empty aside from Josh, still sitting cross-legged in one corner. Damn it!

I flopped into the spot that Danny had vacated, just as Sam hustled back in through the side door, arms full of sodas and bags of chips. My cheeks were warm when I looked up at him, and then they burst into flames.

“Scoot over T, I like the corner spot.”

He’s helping me! Oh shit, he’s helping me. Move your ass!!

Fumbling for a grip on reality, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam’s. He lifted his brows and tilted his head in Josh’s direction. I suddenly remembered why I wasted all my days with this kid - he’s my ride or die. And now I owed him, big.

As soon as I stood to shift to the center of the couch, Sam’s elbow snuck out and made contact with my shoulder. My feet tangled with each other and, balance lost, I tumbled. Right into the arms of my beloved.

Okay okay, that’s a reach. But I did land on him. Sam had nudged me just hard enough to send me toward the opposite end of the couch and I landed ass-first on Josh’s leg, still folded and crossed under the other.

Through the mortification, I heard Sam’s distinct snickering as he placed himself gently on the other cushion. Then, through the popping of soda tabs and crinkling of chip bags, I heard the sweetest, most beautiful sound ever.

“If you wanted to sit next to me so bad, you could’ve just done it, T.”

I quite literally had to extract myself from his lap, but Josh just giggled as I clumsily moved off of him. To my extreme delight and disbelief, I didn’t make it too far. He slung an arm over my shoulders and kept me at his side. We are sharing a cushion. ALERT ALERT - OUR THIGHS ARE TOUCHING.

His hand wrapped around the ball of my shoulder and squeezed. Not once, but twice. I felt like I was gonna puke, but I risked turning my head and meeting his eyes. And he. Fucking. Smiled.

“You good, Tiny?” I should’ve laughed. We were the same exact height, I could be calling him tiny. But this wasn’t funny, because he was still smiling at me and he’d lowered his voice to speak directly to me and I felt it all the way to my toes. Somehow I managed to smile back.

“I’m good.” I was soooooo good. Even when Sam shoved a bag of Doritos at me, I was good. Because Josh reached into it and pulled a few out for himself. He reached into my lap! For chips!

Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.

Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.

Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.

“Whatever. Night, guys.”

Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!

The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam kept hitting the joint long after Josh and I had turned it down, and by the time he’d deposited the roach in the ashtray he could barely keep his eyes open. I watched his head fall back into the cushion and pounced on my opportunity.

Leaning away from Josh’s loving embrace (shut up, I was in heaven okay?), I slapped Sam’s chest with the back of my hand.

“Sammy… Sam!” He snorted as his head whipped up, swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at me. I was still leaning toward him, my back to Josh, and I spoke to him telepathically. Or with my eyebrows.

Get out of here right now or so help me God.

He answered verbally, like he couldn't even read my mind. “Huh?”

I withheld growling at him like an animal. “Why don’t you go to bed, man? You’re toast.” Go. NOW.

His eyes tried to focus on me, they really did, before he shook his head and tried again. “Shit. Yeah, okay. Are you… do you wanna stay on the couch tonight?”

Yes. This couch. Allll night long.

“Yeah yeah, I will, but I’m not tired yet. I’m just gonna, um, chill here for a little bit longer?” At that, I turned my head and risked a glance at Josh. Thank God I did, because he was already looking at me, and he grinned. EEEEEEEP!

“I’m not tired yet either, we can listen to some music.” I doubted I could hear music at that point, not over the blood rushing in my ears. But then, oh then, he looked up at Sam and said, “I’ll make sure she makes it to bed, I mean, the couch. Downstairs, I’ll make sure she makes it downstairs.”

“Fine, whatever.” See? He’s my ride or die. “See you in the morning, T.” And then he was gone.

We were alone.

HELLO? WE. WERE. ALONE.

Sure, I’d been alone with Josh before. I’d been hanging around his house nearly every day for four years, we’d definitely been left in a room together at some point. But not while his arm was draped loosely over my shoulders, not while our legs were touching, not while my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

But now that we were alone, I had no effing clue what to do. Then Josh stood up. My heart dropped into my stomach, but he walked over to the stacked milk crates that housed a small part of their family’s record collection and crouched to skim through them. He found something he liked and set it on the turntable, the needle bringing the crackling beginnings of a song to life.

When he turned back to face me, I thought for sure he’d sit in that ugly wingback chair. Or at the other end of the couch. Instead, he circled the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of me than he had been all night. And now his other thigh was touching mine!

I’m pretty sure my throat closed up because I had to clear it rather unattractively to speak. “What, uhh, ha, um, who is this?”

Sexy, right?

Didn’t matter, his smile took shape right in front of my eyes and all I could see was the little barely-there gap between his front teeth. I wanted to know what it felt like on my tongue. Would I be able to tell? If I kissed him right now, would I be able to feel that little discrepancy in the perfection of his teeth? I lifted my eyes to meet his and realized he’d spoken, and I’d missed it.

“Sorry, uhh… what?”

His head tilted and his eyes searched my face for… something. “Wilson Pickett. Sammy hasn’t played this for you?”

Sammy? Who is Sammy? Ohhh right, best friend.

“Um, no, I don’t think so. But maybe? There’s always music on, he’s probably played this.”

He just nodded, at first in response to my rambling and then in time with the song. When it ended, he just… looked at me, for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. I was once again hyper aware of my underarms. Sweating. So I slipped the flannel off of my shoulders, keeping my forearms in the sleeves but giving me some airflow to the pits. Josh’s eyes dropped from mine and landed on the now exposed skin. Yes! Guys like shoulders!

The realization slapped me in the face, so I grabbed it and ran. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and tossed the flannel past Josh and onto the chair, thanking God that I’d worn a tank top. He gulped. Like a full-blown gulp.

Omg I’m making him nervous!!

Confidence boosted, I shifted even closer to him, until our bodies were tucked tight against each other. I’d never been this close to him, aside from that one time we’d been crammed in the back seat of his mom’s car with Sam and Jake, their sister sitting pretty in the front seat. But then I had been a scrawny kid, only thirteen (and a half) and he had been a really weird fifteen year old, not yet having grown into his features. I hadn’t wanted any part of his stinky, sweaty, farty body near me and I’d squeezed myself so close to Sam I was practically in his lap.

But on this night? This Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I was no longer a kid. And he was no longer weird. He was beautiful, and my face was really close to his face. I could feel it when he whispered, his breath actually touched my lips.

“Wha- what are you doing, T?”

He was looking at my lips, waiting for my answer. I licked them because I was freaking parched, but he watched. And I watched him gulp, again! My tongue slipped out and wet my bottom lip a second time.

“Josh?” Whispering is sexy, it’s seductive. I was sure of it. He did it back, just my name - my actual name - lilting at the end in question.

“Do you.. wanna… kiss me?” I leaned over him, placed my left hand on his chest and felt his collar bone under my fingertips through his t-shirt. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I saw the panic widen his eyes, then they darted around me, looking at anything but me. It was really so cute how nervous he was. He was eighteen, for Christ sake! And I was making him nervous!

“Kiss me, Josh.” His eyes snapped back to mine, slipped down to my mouth again and then back.

And then. He. Freaking. KISSED. ME.

In a split second that felt like hours, I watched his eyes close and perfect lips pucker. My eyes stayed open at first, I didn’t want to miss this.

Leaning further into him, I settled my lips against his and slid the hand on his chest up the side of his neck (his pulse was out of control, by the way), and then cradled his jaw. My fingertips were in his hair right behind his ear. I pulled his face closer and ramped up the pressure of our lips pushed together.

He put his hands on me. I swear to God, he really did! One reached for my hip and the other came up to rest against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my body took over. Not a coherent thought left in my pretty little head. Especially when our mouths separated, and then he pushed them back together.

With a mind of its own, my other hand came up and gripped his shoulder. Then my leg swung over his lap and I. Was. Straddling. Him.

It wasn’t my fault. My brain had gone haywire, my body moving on instinct. I’d quite literally never done this before. I’d kissed plenty, I even kissed Sam once (barf), but this felt different. This felt mature. Probably a little more mature than I was ready for but like I said, it was not my fault.

A lot of blame fell on Josh, a whole mountain of it, when the hand on my cheek dropped to my other hip and gripped hard, pulled me flush against him. And his lips coerced my mouth open. And the tip of his tongue swept out and touched mine.

Oh, I was in way over my head. But this was Josh, the boy I loved, and he was loving me back!

A sound I’d never made before crept up my throat. Instant embarrassment heated my already toasty cheeks and climbed up my neck, but then. Ohh then. The same freaking sound came from somewhere below me. Josh groaned. Because of me.

My animal brain completely took over. My tongue was already sliding against his, and my hips decided to follow suit. With zero finesse, they rocked into his. Just once.

He broke the kiss and dropped his head back to the cushion.

No no noooooo, you like this! You love it!

I could feel the proof that he loved it. I was sitting on it. I could see it, his chest heaving.

So I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his throat.

“Stop, T.” His hands fell limp and landed on my thighs. My brain scrambled to catch up. Stop? Go! His fingers spread across the denim on my legs. Go go go!

But then he pushed. I leaned back to see his face, find an explanation, but his eyes were still closed as he pushed me off of his lap. Helped me swing my leg back over. Kept his hands on my thighs until they were planted back on the couch and closed. Firmly. Then they left me, and I felt their absence like a knife to the heart.

“I… wow, okay.” It’s the best I could manage to formulate, but my brain was running in overdrive.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.” He rubbed his palms, the ones that were just holding me, over his knees then leaned forward and dropped his forehead into them.

Okay, maybe he just thinks we were moving too fast!

“Josh, it’s okay. I want this! We can just kiss, I’ll stay over here and you stay there and-“

It was so quiet, but it stopped my words on my tongue and slammed my lips shut.

“I can’t.”

Okay. Okay. Okay.

It’s because Sam’s my best friend.

It’s because I’m too young.

He thinks I’m still a kid.

Like his kid sister.

Fuck!

Anger rolled through me. “Why? Is it Sam?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to me. Looked at me, finally.

“No, I-“

“Am I too young for you? You’re not that much older, Josh and we’ve known eachother forever, it’s not that big of a de-“

“It’s not that, Tiny.” His eyes closed again.

“Don’t call me that!” He’d offended me, I was o-ffen-ded. “I’m not a little fucking kid!” Okay, I was pissed! I was a grown ass woman!

(I wasn’t.)

Both of his hands reached forward and he pulled mine towards him. Held them there. Opened his eyes. Was he gonna cry? Why are his eyes wet?! Shit, am I crying?

“It’s not you, T. It’s me.” Oh please. “I- well, I um, I like someone else.”

Back to angry! “What?! Then why the hell were you kissing me?!” What a scoundrel, what a snake, what an asshole!

“It’s not like that-“

“What the fuck is it like?!” I didn’t normally curse much at that age, but when I tell you I was mad? Hurt? Embarrassed? I couldn’t stop it from happening.

Shit, his eyes were definitely wet.

“It’s a guy.”

He whispered it, and it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t seductive. It was sad. Scared. Defeated. I snatched my hands out of his.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortable. He stared at his empty hands and we processed.

“What did you say?” His posture shrank, like he was trying to disappear. “Josh, it’s okay. Talk to me.” It was my turn to take his hands. I held them in mine and squeezed once.

“I’m so sorry, I- I just don’t like you. Like that.” His eyes found their way back to my face, “I really like him.” They went wide and I’m pretty sure mine did too. He seemed shocked that he’d said it out loud, right before panic spread across his features again.

“Please don’t say anything, T. I haven’t- no one knows that. No one. Please.”

“No, I would never Josh, I swear. I just… why were you, ya know, kissing me?” Touching me, pulling me in. He pulled his hands away from me this time.

“I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted them to think I was normal.”

I couldn’t help it. I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

“You are.” Normal and beautiful and perfect. And not mine. A heavy sigh slipped from between my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He stayed silent, so I did too. I kept my arms around him for a few minutes before finally letting them slip free, rubbing a palm between his shoulder blades.

“I guess I should go… Are you okay?” Look, I was not okay, but it didn’t seem like that was important anymore.

“Aren’t you gonna stay downstairs tonight?”

Definitely not. “No, I think I should go home…” Probably won’t show my face over here for a goooood long time.

“Let me walk with you.”

I did. He walked on the other side of my bike while I walked it by the handlebars. When we reached my driveway, I left the bike propped against the side of the garage and turned to him. And just like in my dreams, he moved close and pecked a kiss into my cheek. Then he pulled me into his arms.

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, ya know?” His voice was soft and low, his breath tickling my ear. It should’ve been a literal dream come true.

A half step back and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms. “It’s really fine. I’m sorry for…” Humiliating us both? “Everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I mean it,” he emphasized when I shook my head. “Just… please don’t say anything. Even to Sam. Especially to Sam. I’m gonna tell them all when I’m ready, I think.”

Huge, massive sigh. “I won’t. I promise.”

And I never did. Not really.

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cooliestghouliest · 3 months

Text

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

—

chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

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You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

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Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

#eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #mungrove x reader #mungrove

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hopefulromances · 9 months

Text

Long Time Coming I Chapter Twelve I Haunted

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3K

Warning: Gross ex,West Ham

A/N: Lets learn a little more about readers past eh? Next chapter rlly gets things going I promise!

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

West Ham was a big game. A really big game. A game I think each of us were dreading the game. But for me… it was another one of my secrets. Matthew Kristal was a forward on West Ham. Had been for years. And he’d been my boyfriend throughout uni. He was much much older than me but he approached me after a game and told me all the things I wanted to hear. I was special, something he’d never seen before, so mature for my age. All the normal bullshit you hear from guys twice your age.

We dated for years. Actually, until very recently. When I told him I was looking at taking a job at Richmond, he changed. He told me not to, that I should just let him take care of me. Obviously, I’d told him that he was bullshit. I left him after that, and I hadn’t seen him since. He’d texted me several times offering advice or telling me how sorry he was. But thanks to the family I’d found at Richmond, specifically Keeley Jones, I didn’t feel the need to text him back.

But now I’d be face to face with him again. And that’s ignoring the feud with Nate and Rupert that was hanging over everyone’s head. I listened to Roy and Beard squabble over what strategy to do against West Ham. I knew it didn’t matter either way. We’d end up doing whatever Zava wanted, probably a 4-4-2 or 4-5-1. Anything to get him in position to score.

As I watched them uninterested, my phone buzzed on the table. I flipped my phone over and saw a text from an unknown number.

Hey, hope you’re doing well. Looking forward to seeing you this weekend.

I scrolled up but didn’t see any past messages from this person. Luckily the person followed up quickly.

It’s Matt, btw, got a new phone.

God fucking damnnit. Of course, he was texting me now. I looked around, making sure I wasn’t needed before grabbing my phone and rushing out of the room. I sent Keeley a text to see if she’d be coming by the club later, which she was.

“Fuck me,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

A commotion from the locker room caught my attention. I shoved my phone in my pocket and decided that whatever was going on in there was the perfect distraction.

“Oi, what’s going on in here?” I demanded as I walked into the room.

“Isaac’s tried to kill me is what’s going on,” Jamie exclaimed, backing away from his captain.

“Guys I think someone ripped this in half,” Bumbercatch’s comment caused me to look over at the wall. In his hand was half of the believe sign, the other half still up on the wall. My eyes widened as I walked over to his side.

“What the hell…” I murmured, taking the piece of the sign from him. It was just a sign, I tried to tell myself. It’s just a sign it doesn’t mean anything. I looked at the boys who started to crowd around us. “Well, just fix it, alright?”

I shoved the sign back into Bumbercatch’s chest before leaving the room. Suddenly it as very hard to breath. But what if was a real sign. Like an actual sign. I mean what are the chances that Matthew texts me and then just a few minutes later the Believe sign falls.

…

I recount the events to Keeley as she arrived at the club. I told her about the sign and Zava and the intensity about the game but hadn’t had the chance to bring up Matt quite yet when we arrived at the locker room.

“But the sign fell, Keeley,” I whined, following her. “Wait, why are we going in here?”

“Oh! I’m visiting Shandy, she’s filming a promo for Bantr!” Keeley told me.

I racked my head trying to remember who Shandy was. “She’s the one who threaten to run around the pitch with her top off, yeah?”

“Well, it was more of a suggestion than a threat.”

“It was definitely a threat.”

We entered the room just as Dani was finishing up his segment. Keeley greeted Shandy as my eyes flited around the room. It was weird seeing it all done up for filming. The boys were excited to do this filming but.I think they had a secret bet going to see who could say the most ridiculous pick up line.

“You don’t know who I am, but I’m looking for someone who likes short walks on the beach so we can spend more time, you know…”

God that was terrible, I chuckled as they called cut. As Van Damme walked out, Jamie was up next. Fuck, I forgot he had to do this. It was the club’s single guys and Jamie was, to the masses, single.

“He’s so fucking hot,” Shandy’s compliment sent a ping of jealousy through me. “What’s his story.”

“Jamie?” Keeley replied. “Oh, he’s so cocky.”

All three of us stared at the monitor as Jamie had hair and make-up work on him. He was smiling kindly and making chat with the makeup artist.

“But I guess you have to be at this level,” Keeley continued, finding herself smiling at him. “But he only thinks about himself.”

I shook my head absentmindedly as I watched him. No, he didn’t. Jamie was kind and funny, and always checking in on me when we were together.

“At least, he used to. But he’s not accountable for his actions and what they do to others.”

Again, I shook my head silently. It was crazy. The different side of Jamie that I’d seen as his girlfriend. A side that no one else got to see. It was all mine.

“Except he is getting better at making apologies. Still… he only thinks with his dick.”

Finally, Jamie looked over at us and I could tell he saw me. I refused to look up over the monitor as a cheeky smile came over his lips. I bit my lip, trying to hard not to have any kind of reaction.

“And yet, I don’t think he’s seen anyone in ages.”

I couldn’t help it anymore; I looked up over the monitor and saw Jamie staring right at me. I chewed on my cheek, trying to stave off the blush. He sent me a wink before turning back to the make-up artist.

“I just wanna know if I can bang him, babe.”

Fuck, I forgot Shandy was even there. I frowned and looked over at her, a heat in my eyes I wasn’t used to. So this was jealousy was like. I was really willing to risk it all if she made any moves towards Jamie.

“Oh. I don’t know,” Keeley answered. I still hadn’t taken my eyes of Shandy, watching as she stared hungrily at Jamie. “You should probably as him, it’s his dick.”

I ran my tongue along the space between my teeth and bottom lip, trying desperately not to say anything.

“Alright, I should probably be getting going,” I announced, deciding that this was too much for me.

“Wait, didn’t you have something you wanted to-“

“Nope, I’ll see you later Keels.”

I turn around before she can say anything else, not really wanting to stay in that room any longer than I had to. I realized that there was only one person I wanted to talk to about this Matt situation, and he was currently sitting in the locker room getting his make-up done for a dating app commercial.

…

Jamie and I sat in is backyard. He had these lounging chairs set up in his backyard where we could sit together while I caught up on work or read. He had a hand running up and down my leg as he read The Beautiful and Damned.

I looked over at him as he read peacefully. I was hesitant to talk to him, worried about what he would say or how he would react or what it would do to us to bring up Matt. I’d managed to make it two whole years without even thinking about him but with one little text his control over my life was back.

“Remember how you asked why I stopped playing football?”

Jamie glanced up from his book over at me. “What?”

“Do you know Matt Kristal?”

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows and put down his book, shrugging. “He’s on West Ham, yeah? One of their defenders?”

I nodded, looking down at my chair, picking at a piece of plastic that was sticking out. “He and I dated for a while when I was in uni.”

Jamie’s face should be in a museum. It was a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and was that… jealousy? He turned to look at my fully, his eyes looking far too serious.

“What? Really?” He asked. “Isn’t he like… nearly 40?”

“Yup.” I nodded, still not able to really face Jamie. “He came to watch me play in uni. Told me all those nice things like… you’re talented and mature and whatever.” I shook my head remember the first time I met him. “Anyways, we dated for about… 3 years?”

“Fuck off,” Jamie scoffed, putting the book to the side.

“I wish I were joking but he… he was quite the charismatic person,” I told him solemnly. “Anyways, when it came time for me to graduate… I told him I wanted to play professionally and he… he told me I shouldn’t. That there was no glory in women’s football.” I scrunched my nose. “So, he lined up a job as West Ham’s kitman and I worked there until… until I saw the job at Richmond.” I moved my head side to side, considering all my words. “And he told me not to take it.” I laughed humorlessly. “Told me I’d be making a mistake. Well, he broke up with me after that. Told me I would crash and burn along with all of Richmond. Then I’d come running back to him.”

I stared at that piece of plastic I was picking, chewing the skin off my lip. I hadn’t talked about Matt with anyone since I came to Richmond. That time in my life was filed away, along with my father. But the people at Richmond had a way of opening me up like no one else.

“What a cocksleeve.” Jamie’s response drew a laugh from me. “I mean really. What a mingin’ asstawt. Got a right cop on, don’t he.” With every ridiculous insult I found myself laughing harder and harder. Despite the tension leaving my chest slowly, I still found myself unable to look at me. That is until Jamie’s hand slide down to mind, preventing me from tearing up the chair. “Hey, look at me.”

I pursed my lips and forced my head to turn to face him. He had an eyebrow raised at me as he smirked. “Your better for it without him. He was holding you back ‘cause he knew you were better than him. Kristal… I mean he’s been on West Ham for a decade now… barely made a mark on the league.”

“Well, he’s no Jamie Tartt, that’s for sure,” I commented, smiling.

“Hey, I’m serious,” Jamie sat up and pulled me, so our legs were slotted with each other. I was caught off guard by his serious demeanor. “You’re better than him. I promise.”

It wasn’t like Jamie to ignore a compliment. My mouth opened slightly as a breath of disbelief came out of my mouth. Both of his hands rested on my knees, rubbing soft comforting circles into them. I blinked repeatedly, shaking my head. I was getting off topic.

“I just… I wanted to let you know that he texted me about seeing me this weekend.”

“HA! Like that’s gonna happen,” Jamie laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, no it won’t but… I just wanted to let you know,” I shrugged. “And I know there’s a lot riding on this game so I don’t mean to add to that but I-“

“No, thank you for telling me. Now I know who to score on the most.” He reached over and grabbed my waist, hoisting me up before laying down with me on top of him. “You wanna have sex?”

I would never get used to that. But I merely answered his question by leaning down to kiss Jamie into the chair. I felt lighter. Knowing I had gotten it off my chest. Even if it did nothing, I had Jamie’s support and that was enough for me.

…

The game was a mess. The first half was bad enough but after the half… it was like an entirely new team. They were angry, something about Beard and Roy showing them a video, I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy avoiding Matt like the plague. But luckily for me, he seemed to get the hint and didn’t approach me at all. That was, until after the game.

I was leaving the locker room to head towards the bus when he finally caught up to me.

“(Y/N)!”

I heard his voice before I saw him. But when I did, I wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t changed at all. He looked the exact same as he had those years ago when I’d walked out of his house with him screaming at me that I would be nothing without him. I let him catch up to me.

“Some match, eh?” Matt chuckled, a cruel smirk on his face. I didn’t respond, not wanting to say something I regret. “Hey, why don’t we get a drink or something? Catch up, for old times’ sake?”

“I’m good.” I shut him down quickly. I knew what that meant. It meant that he would take me out, get me tipsy then convince me to have sex with him and there was no way that was happening.

He frowned at me. That same disappointed frown I’d gotten all too used to when we were together. “Look (Y/N), I don’t want to try anything I just want to-“

“Is there something you wanted to say, or can I get back to my team?” Again, I really don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t really want to hear his sorry apology or whatever manipulation tactic he could draw up.

“I just wanted to say sorry, okay?” He pulled his most genuine face that he could, but I just shook my head. Nonetheless, he persisted. “I was a dick, and you were right. You’ve done great at Richmond but listen… you could do better. I bet I could get Rupert to hire you here… at West Ham.”

Jamie emerged from the locker room, walking towards the bus with his head low. He was pissed. Pissed at the game, pissed at Zava, pissed at Nate. The whole game had gone wrong so fast. If only he’d made that goal in the first half but, of course, he whiffed it, leaving room for Zava to take some glory.

When he walked down the hall, he immediately spied (Y/N) talking with Matt. Now he was pissed at that. He could tell she was uncomfortable. Body science. The way she griped her bag and frowned at him as he chatted at her. He needed to get her out of there and fast but without drawing suspicion. He glanced around to see who else was there. Colin was exiting the locker room just at that moment, busy on his phone.

“Oi, Colin.” He nodded over to where (Y/N) and Matt were talking. “Why’s (Y/N) talking to Matt Kristal?”

Colin looked over where he was pointing, and his eyes darkened. Just as he thought, (Y/N) probably told Colin about her past.

“Fuck if I know, give me a second.” And Colin was off going to interrupt them.

Jamie tried to walk off slowly, watching as Colin approached her. He put an arm around her, taking Matt’s attention off of her. (Y/N)’s face immediately flooded with relief with Colin arrived. Jamie felt better knowing that Colin was there to support her. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about but all he wanted was to get home and be with (Y/N) somewhere they could be together.

…

When Jamie arrived home (Y/N) was already there. She was standing, seemingly stuck in her own brain staring at the wall. Jamie frowned and walked up to her, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing her cheek. She gasped and jumped, finally broken from her trance.

“Fuck me!” She shouted, relaxing back into Jamie. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, love,” He mused against her cheek. “Just finally glad to be able to hold you.” She smiled though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “What was he talking to you about?”

“Who?”

“Kritsal?”

“You saw that?”

“Course! Who do you think sent Colin over?” Jamie snickered, pulling away from her and walking over to the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she followed Jamie as he began taking out the kettle. “You saw Max talking to me and didn’t come over to intervene?”

Jamie shrugged, taking out two mugs. “I’m making you tea. And yeah, I figured Colin knew more about the situation and he did so, crisis avoided.” The look she gave Jamie was almost heartbreakingly beautiful. There was so much love and passion in her eyes that is shocked Jamie a little bit. “What… did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, Jamie.” She pulled him down by his neck and kissed him. Jamie let out a noise of shock before quickly setting down the mugs so he could wrap his arms around her. He held her close. While he was strong enough not to intervene earlier, he wanted her to know that he had her back and that she was his.

Just as much as he was hers.

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#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #long time coming

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