#*walks in after a year of no fic with starbucks*

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Stars In My Eyes

(a part two to this fic!)

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness

author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 7.7k

Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.

Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to. ��

And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  

But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.

- 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 

 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  

But Eddie…he was very much wow.

After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 

“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”

A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  

You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  

“I’ll see you later.”

Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  

Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.

But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  

Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  

-

There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  

There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  

While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.

Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-

Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.

“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”

“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.

“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”

Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”

Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  

“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”

Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.

“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.

Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  

As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.

“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”

“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  

“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”

Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.

“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”

Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  

“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”

“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”

“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  

“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”

Eddie nods.

“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.

“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”

“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”

Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.

“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”

Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  

He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.

Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.

“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.

“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”

Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.

“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”

Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’

Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”

Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 

“Ed, it’s a date.”

Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.

-

On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  

Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ��dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?

You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.

So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.

You made a to-do list. 

Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…

Drink wine 

Watch movie

Clean house…again

Drink more wine

Possibly reconsider outfit…

After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 

-

It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  

He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  

He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.

“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”

Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.

After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.

-

Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.

Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.

You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.

There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.

You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 

It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 

You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 

-

Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  

You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  

How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?

Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.

“You got this man.  Be cool.”

He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.

It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.

Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.

“Hey you.”

“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…

You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  

“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  

Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.

“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”

You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.

Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.

Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.

You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.

Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?

Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.

Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 

He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  

It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  

The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.

“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.

Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.

“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”

You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  

He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”

This time, you can’t fight the smile.

You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.

-

Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.

He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 

“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.

“Oh, I know this song!”

Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  

“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.

“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”

You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.

When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.

Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.

The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.

Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.

You totally are.

-

Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.

Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  

You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.

He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.

You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.

His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 

And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.

You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.

He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.

He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.

“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.

“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”

You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 

 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?

Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 

While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  

You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.

His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  

Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.

His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  

Is he going to kiss you right now?  

In IKEA?

On your first date? 

Is this even a date?  

Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’

You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.

It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.

He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  

“Of course,” he groans.

You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.

Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.

You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.

“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”

Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.

-

Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  

He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  

He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  

Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?

If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.

You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!

You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  

-

Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  

It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.

Is that…Taylor Swift?

You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.

Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.

“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”

The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.

You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.

“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  

“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”

You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”

“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”

You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.

“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”

“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.

Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.

“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”

He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 

“Which era are you in right now?”

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.

“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  

“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.

Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  

You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.

You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.

-

Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  

You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.

“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”

Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.

“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”

You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.

“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”

“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”

You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.

“I’d love that.”

Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  

“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”

“Tomorrow night is perfect.”

“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”

You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.

Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 

“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.

He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 

He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  

There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.

You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.

“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.

Eddie can’t believe that worked.

He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 

You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  

You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  

Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.

You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.

You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”

“Good.”

Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  

You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.

When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  

TAGLIST:

@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 1

college football player!buck x plus size!eader

summary: you're having a bad day and you run into an attractive guy in the hallway on your way to class. your frustration gets the better of you and you snap at him, but he’s intrigued by your attitude, and goes out of his way to keep talking to you.

word count: 2.6k

series masterlist

A/N: i'm so excited to release the first chapter of my new multi part fic! i definitely started in the middle of this fic and then worked my way back, so this isn't my fav chapter, but if you wanna see them freak nasty in future chapters keep reading!1! i also tried to make the reader race inclusive, but please let me know if there's anything i did wrong so i can correct it!

warnings: both characters are a little mean to each other (oops), slight enemies to lovers??, a touch of slowburn??, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You huff as you walk into the arts building on campus, tripping as your foot hits the doorframe. It’s not enough for you to fall, but it’s enough to piss you off ever more than you already are.

You’re running late, and it seems like everything is going wrong today. First, your alarm hadn’t gone off, meaning you basically had to run to campus for your 9am lecture. You walked in late, which wasn’t really a big deal, the professor paid you no mind as you walked in. It did matter, however, that you had to trip over bags and feet to the middle of an aisle, squeezing yourself into the last seat available in the lecture hall. Then, when you went to get yourself a little treat between classes at the Starbucks on campus, some guy bumped into you and made you spill half your drink on your shirt, meaning you had to race home to shower and change before going back to campus for your later class, which is where you’re heading now.

It’s your last year of college, so while you know your way around campus, it’s the first day of classes, and you’ve never had a class in the lecture hall your next class is in.

Your head is down as you look at your phone, pace slowing slightly as you triple check what room number you’re looking for when you feel a large body hit your shoulder.

“Watch it.” you hear a deep voice say as you look up from your phone, blinking slowly for a moment before something in you snaps.

You whirl around, jaw clenched as you make eye contact with perhaps the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen, not that you notice that through your rage. On any other day, you would’ve apologized and been on your way, but today, you have had enough, your patience gone.

“You ran into me.” you bark back, barely having time to think about what you’re saying. You feel a little bad as you see his eyes widen, but your thoughts are so clouded by frustration at how the day was playing out that you didn’t care. Deep down, you know he’s probably right, you weren’t watching where you were going. But he didn’t have to be a dick about it, right?

“I’m sorry, excuse me, princess.” he says sarcastically after a moment, as his surprised expression is replaced with a smirk. He hadn’t expected you to respond the way that you had, and this intrigues him. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes trailing down your figure, taking you in.

“Thank you! Was that so hard?” you reply in the same tone, matching his stance and crossing your arms over your chest, not even noticing the way “princess” rolled off his tongue so smoothly. You also don’t notice the way his eyes roam over your body, taking in your soft curves, the way your chest moves to keep up with the quick beating in your chest.

“Someone’s feisty, huh?” you roll your eyes at this, wanting nothing more than to be done with the incredibly handsome man and go to class. You’re already late enough, you really don’t need this.

“Only when someone deserves it.” you reply sharply, jutting your hip out as you tilt your head to the side, glaring at him.

You’re met with a scoff, and he fights back a laugh at the way you’re looking at him. You’ve got an attitude, but he’s got to admit, you’re gorgeous. The way you’re glaring at him kind of makes him want to push you against the wall and kiss your attitude away, but he also kind of likes the way you’re not backing down. He wants to keep you here. Willing to do anything to keep you standing here, he steps closer to you, licking his lips as he looks down at you, that smirk still on his face.

“You should lose the attitude, princess.” he teases, a playful glint in his eye as he sees the way you react when his words hit you. His words have the desired effect. You aren’t going anywhere. 

“Or what?” you hiss, your jaw clenching at his words. You’re really not in the mood to be told off by a man who thought the world revolved around him. On any other day, you’d already be on your way, but now, you just want to slap the stupid smirk right off his stupid attractive face. And what the hell was up with the nickname?

“Or I’ll make you.” he challenges, gauging your reaction, hoping he hadn’t crossed a line. With the way you hadn’t walked away yet, he has a feeling that you weren’t going to tell him to go to hell.

You pause for a moment, suddenly taking in the look in his eyes. He was arguing with you, sure, but you had only just realized how he was looking down at you, almost flirting with you. For a moment, you’re overcome with nerves, realizing that your temper has gotten you into a situation you never thought you’d be in.

“I’d rather die.” you get out. You bite the inside of your cheek as you hold eye contact, trying to keep up with the attitude that had been blinding you earlier.

You watch as his tongue slowly traces the inside of his cheek, his lips parting as he chuckles softly. He notices the way your breath stills for a moment and you blink slowly, how his words had momentarily snapped you out of your angry haze. 

He’s so close to you that you can almost feel the heat radiating off of him, but you refuse to back down, already this far into the argument.

“You might say that now, princess, but you haven’t seen me when I’m nice. I’m sure you’d like me if you dropped the attitude.” he states, eyes trailing down your figure again, taking in your cleavage peeking out from your shirt slightly, the way your clothes fall on your soft belly and thick thighs.

“That’s never gonna happen.” you say, letting out a shaky breath as you try not to look away. The class you’re currently missing comes to mind as your glare falters for a moment, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re standing to a stranger in the middle of the hallway.

“Don’t be so sure, princess.” he teases, licking his lips again as his eyes study your face. 

What the hell are you doing? You shouldn’t be talking to this man. You have class, and you took your frustration out on him when he mostly didn’t deserve it. You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek as your face grows hot. You have to get out of here before this goes any worse than it already has. If you don’t walk away now, you’d realize how cute he is.

“I have to go to class.” you tell him softly, a hint of coldness still in your voice as you turn on your heel, walking down the hallway and out of sight.

He watches as you walk away, his eyes shamelessly trailing down to your ass as you go. He chuckles at your hasty departure as he bites a lip. If he met you at a party, he’s sure he would’ve already made you a flustered mess for him, but you didn’t seem like the type of girl who’d be at one of his team’s parties. The way you rushed off to class like that? While part of your exit was to end the conversation, there was a hint of nervousness in your eyes that tells him you truly were late to class, and not very happy about it. He wants to see you again, wants to try to get you to lower your guard so he can get to know you at a time where your temper isn’t getting the better of you.

You let out a long sigh as soon as you get far enough away from him, and you can feel that your hands are shaking ever so slightly. Why did you do that? You should’ve just apologized and kept walking because now you were really late for class, and you had basically yelled at a guy when you were pretty sure you had run into him. He was attractive, and built. You think he’s on the football team. Your roommate has a type, and you think you remember seeing his face when she showed you the entire team roster while she forced you to play drunken smash or pass during the summer.

Now that you think of it, what the fuck? Why did he immediately tell you to watch it? And then, why did he just come onto you like that? Did he just immediately assume that you would fold and apologize if he laid on the charm? You shake your head at the thought, scoffing as you pull out your phone again, realizing you had gone the complete wrong way as you stormed away from him. You turn again, hoping he was gone when you walk back to where you ran into each other, and to your delight, he was. 

You finally find your lecture hall and quickly slip in, silently celebrating when you realize that the doors were at the back of the room rather than the front, meaning you wouldn’t disturb the class. You scan the lecture hall, seeing an empty seat on an aisle a few rows from the back, and you silently make your way over. You sit down and pull your laptop out of your bag, quickly opening the class homepage to follow along as the professor goes over the syllabus.

You’re so focused on not drawing attention to yourself that you don’t notice him in the back row, eyes immediately on you as you sneak past him.

He smirks to himself, noticing the difference in your demeanor as you walk past him, head ducked, as if not to disturb anyone further by your lateness. With the way you snapped at him before, he half expects you to walk in with your head up, daring anyone to act annoyed with you as you make your way to your seat.

He keeps finding his eyes darting to the back of your head as class goes on, trying to think of a way to talk to you again, hoping you wouldn’t roll your eyes and keep walking if he tried.

You try to catch up on what the professor is saying about the syllabus, trying to add assignment and test dates to your calendar as she speaks. As the professor wraps up the class, you continue working away, trying to finish adding the dates, knowing you would forget to do it once you got home.

He stays in his seat when class ends, eyes glued to you as you keep typing on your laptop for a minute or two while the people around you start filing out. He puts his laptop away haphazardly, his eyes still trained on you as you do the same. He stands up at the same time you do and walks over to the door, standing in front of it.

You see him as he reaches the door, rolling your eyes as he blocks the way. All you want is to get home and crawl into bed, you really don’t want to deal with him right now.

“Where are you going, princess?” he teases, that stupid smirk returning to his face as he hears your sigh. He keeps far enough in front of the door that you could slip out if you really wanted to. He doesn’t want to scare you, he just wants more time with you.

“Home.” you reply shortly, crossing your arms over your chest. The way he looks down at you has you on edge again. He’s too smug for your liking, and now that your brain had time to process, you couldn’t not notice his blue eyes, his large arms. Your action doesn’t go unnoticed by him, as his eyes are immediately drawn to the way your arms push your chest up slightly.

“No more classes to run off to? No more rushing around and running into strangers?” he teases, giving you a once over.

“I didn’t run into you.” you tell him matter of factly, but your voice is not as loud as it once was. You know he’s right, but it’s far too late to change your mind. Why wouldn’t he let this go? You’re already embarrassed about the way you acted, you really don’t need him to keep reminding you.

“Ah, but you did. You were looking at your phone, trying to find your class, probably. You stormed off in the wrong direction and had to double back, didn’t you?” he says in an amused tone, chuckling softly as you raise your brows. You’re slightly surprised he’s smart enough to put two and two together.

“I might’ve apologized if you weren’t being a dick. Do you think the world revolves around you?” you fight back, waves of embarrassment hitting you as you realize that he had noticed you went the wrong way.

He doesn’t answer as his lips part slightly, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He takes a step ever so slightly closer to you, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes.

“You got a boyfriend?” he asks after a moment. He’s both amused and confused at your reaction to this. It’s as if you’re unsure if you should continue arguing with him, or give in and walk away, but that’s what has him so intrigued. He wants to know what you would be like behind closed doors, how you would react to his touch as his hands make their way down your body.

You scoff, shaking your head as you maneuver around him and out the door. The nerve of this guy. Why did he have to be so infuriating? And hot?

He raises his hands in mock surrender as you step around him, his gaze following you as you walk down the hall. 

As you make your way out of the building, you feel yourself let out a shaky breath, biting your lip as your brain is overcome with thoughts of him. You try to get your mind off of him, taking your phone out of your pocket to text your roommate and ask her if she wants to do a movie night tonight. She immediately responds with a yes, asking what movie you had in mind, but your brain feels so foggy that you can’t even think of the endless list of movies you’ve been wanting to watch.

Instead, you think of the way he looked down at you, how his eyes trailed down your body, drinking you in. You think about the way you could see his biceps flexing under his shirt as he crossed his arms. You think about what he called you. Princess. It was weird at first, but as you keep thinking about it, you can’t help the way it makes your stomach flip. Why did he ask you if you had a boyfriend? He couldn’t have been interested in anything more than pissing you off. You shake your head to yourself as you try to clear your head, finally making it back to your apartment complex.

And him? He walks the whole way home thinking about you as well. He can’t wait to see you next week in class, hoping that you’ll have more classes together. He’s hooked, and he’s desperate to break down your walls and learn more about you.

next chapter

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan

[cupidbedsy]

𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔

➪ summary: afer many milestones of her brothers, she finally comes home for the first hughesbowl

➪ warnings: none (surprises?)

➪ word count: 2.6k

➪ file type: fic + one insta post

➪ sunny's notes: i'm pretty sure this was the first hughes bros fic i wrote so i definitely had to go back and rewrite a bunch of it. for a little context you're a famous youtube vlogger :) also i would definitely reread this one because a lot has changed and i wrote like a thousand more words for this one

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

hughes brothers masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

⟹ Sunday, December 3, 2023 @ 3:30 in the morning - Naples, Italy

“Hello everyone, my name is y/n, and welcome to my channel if you are new here and welcome back if you’re not! It is currently,” She pauses to take a brief look at her watch, “3:30 in the morning on Sunday, December 3. I am very much still in Italy, but not for long.”

The video cuts and now her camera is sitting on her desk, the windows are opened and the lights are adjusted to be a little bit brighter. She smiles brightly at the camera before she starts talking again, “So you’re probably seeing this mid-December ish whcih means you kind of already know what is going on, but. I am officially flying and moving back home.

“Italy has been such a great experience and I’ve had so much fun here, I’ve learned a ton of new things and I am so grateful for everyone I’ve met. If you know, I’ve been here for almost three years now and I think I’m starting to realize how homesick I am. It’s super nice and amazing here but if I’m honest, I kind of miss ‘the land of the free’. That was a joke, the land of the free part, trust.”

She laughs and continues, “Anyway, the main reason I have decided to come home now is because of my brothers. If you also don’t know, I have three younger brothers, Quinn, Jack, and Luke who are professional hockey players. Quinn plays for the Vancouver Canucks and the other two play for the New Jersey Devils. I honestly have missed so much of their careers, Luke especially and I just really want to be there for the first ever ‘Hughesbowl’ I think they’re calling it.” 

She wipes her eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. She looks around at her room and then back at the camera, “So, I’m flying into New York this morning, my flight leaves at 7 so I should probably get going in a little bit. But yeah, I’ll see you guys when I touch down in New York!”

Videos play of y/n getting ready for the airport, all of her luggage behind her. She navigates her way through the airport, stopping to get some food at the Starbucks and a small drink before sitting and reading her book. After the montage, she is now in a car looking a little tired but her smile is still plastered on her face. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Sunday, December 3, 2023 @ 10:21 in the morning - New York City, New York

“So as you can see, I am now in New York!” The camera pans to a girl in the driver's seat, “This is my American homie right here. Oh, it’s so weird being back, everyone still can’t walk and drive to save their lives.

“Anyway, Julia and I are heading to drop my stuff off at her place and then we’re going to go get some brunch, I think? We’ll, or I guess, I will go sightseeing. I leave for Vancouver tomorrow night so I can rest up before the shorter flight. It’s honestly, kind of fun being back home, everything is kind of like how I remembered. I might also break into Jack and Luke’s apartment to steal some Devils merch so I can wear it to the game, but yeah.”

“Do the boys know you’re going?” Julia asks, pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex.

Y/n shakes her head, “Nobody knows except for you and Tiffany, my friend who lives in Vancouver. So that will be an additional bonus to the game. I’ve set up some things with the arena and I guess, actually, some of the team know so Brock, Petey. I think Jesper and Nico know too, we were talking a little bit earlier together when I got here. Alright, I will see you guys sometime soon!”

Another quick montage plays, Julia and y/n are out and about, going from store to store while y/n gapes at all the things she remembered about visiting Jack before she left. At one point, there was a video of her successfully sneaking into her brother's apartment and stealing one of their beanies they kept on the countertop. 

The next video was of her collapsing onto a bed, “We’re home! It is now almost 10 o'clock here and I am going to get some much-needed rest. Tomorrow I think we’re going to meet up with a few more of our friends which I don’t think I’m going to vlog. Which means, I will see you all when I am headed to the airport!”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Monday, December 4, 2023 @ 7:00 in the evening - John F Kennedy Airport

“It was already 5 and I am here at the airport,” Y/n pans the camera around before focusing it back on herself, “I am actually starting to get so nervous about this. I mean in a little over 24 hours I get to see my little brothers for the first time in almost 3 years. Wow, that is crazy to say. I ended up going out to an early dinner with some of my friends so I am definitely full for this plane ride. I am going to be landing in Vancouver around 10, basically, I’m going to be falling asleep when I get there.

“I also finished this book which will be in a different video but it was so good and I’m so glad I got to read it. I’m rambling too much, I will see you guys in Canada.”

Footage of the plane played, looking down at the ground below. In the middle of those clips, were videos of y/n either trying not to fall asleep and also her reading. Then, clips of her dragging her luggage through the airport and out the doors to find her friend's car. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Monday, December 4, 2023 @ 10:13 in the night - Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

“Oof! It is nearing my bedtime. Also, Tiffany just mentioned to me how weird it looks that I’m coming all the way from Italy with just a suitcase and carry-on. Don’t worry, I didn’t leave my stuff in Italy. I shipped most of my things here to Vancouver because I’m planning on living with Tif over here for a while until I can afford my place. And who knows, maybe Quinn will kidnap me and force me to come live with him.

“That is completely beside the point there. I have now been in three different countries and two different continents in basically 24 hours theoretically if we look at it from completely one time zone, Pacific. I’m going to cry actually, whether that is because of exhaustion or because I get to see my brothers in less than 20 hours, I don’t know. I will see you guys tomorrow, probably somewhere close to the time I leave for Rogers Arena. Tomorrow is the day.”

The video ends with her sighing with a smile on her face, both happy and nervous for the upcoming events to happen. She went to bed that night, comfortably in another bed instead of an airplane seat once more. Tomorrow was going to be a lot and she could only hope everything went to plan.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Tuesday, December 5, 2023 @ 6:23 in the evening - Rogers Arena

“I am now standing outside of Rogers Arena on this very cold day in Vancouver. I am really wishing I brought another coat, somehow I still have not trained my body to be adaptive in the cold.” She rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, “We’re going to go meet with some of the people who are helping me pull this off and if everything works out you should be seeing the video Tiffany is taking from behind me mashed with another video my friend is taking from the stands.”

『••✎••』

Y/n stands nervously in the tunnel, playing with her fingers and picking at the skin around her nails. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as she listened to the skating come to a halt. It was like her eyes were trained to find her family no matter where she was or where they were. As soon as everyone stopped and got into their lines, she let out a deep breath when her eyes focused on Quinn standing alongside the others. 

His hair was longer, that was for sure. He looked older, more mature than the last time she had seen them. The last time she had actually talked to them was a few days prior, probably about a week ago. She had texted them a few times but other than that, she was too nervous she would accidentally slip up and tell them about her plan. 

Her eyes moved and they zeroed in on Jack who was conveniently also standing next to Luke. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw Luke, he was taller, much taller than she remembered. Jack almost looked the same in her opinion, the only thing different was his hairstyle but even then, he looked like the younger brother who used to pester her when she wouldn’t make his Mac ‘n Cheese the way he wanted her to. 

On the other hand, the boys were standing, looking at the ground while their feet shuffled back and forth to help keep them steady on the ice. Jack and Luke shoved each other once or twice playfully throughout the opening speeches. Quinn had a million thoughts racing through his head. This would be his first time playing against Luke on big league ice, his first time playing his brothers as captain of his team, the first time they would all be playing together in the NHL on the same ice and she wasn’t here. 

He would never hate or relent his older sister for wanting to go off and study in another country, it was an amazing opportunity. He was, however, upset about everything that she had missed of his. Luke’s draft, Luke’s debut, Luke’s first goal, the start of Luke’s rookie season, Jack’s record-breaking season, him being announced captain, his first game as captain. 

While Jack and Luke weren’t thinking about this, Quinn couldn’t help it. Y/n was his big sister, the person he had looked up to for his whole life, the person who took care of him when he took a big hit on the ice, the person who helped him through his first relationship, the person who made him soup when he was sick. She was practically everything to him. And it hurt that she wasn’t here. 

“This isn’t something we normally do, but we figured since it was a special occasion we would make an exception.”

Everyone in the arena had practically gone quiet at the words, no one knew anything extra was happening tonight. A lot of friends looked at each other in confusion, the teams eyed one another - some knowling and some just as confused as the fans -, y/n got even more nervous as the words she had drilled into her head were spoken out loud. 

“As everyone knows, this is an incredible thing happening tonight, three brothers playing against each other.” The said boys rolled their eyes once more but still had smiles on their faces, “We do know that there is one person missing however.”

Many fans of y/n who happened to be in the audience knew almost exactly what was happening at this moment. While she hadn’t hinted at coming back home, who else would they have been talking about? She was the only Hughes in question who wasn’t here. 

“As she told me when she got here, she couldn’t miss another big milestone for her brothers. So after being away in Italy for 3 years, please welcome famous YouTuber and older sister of Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes, y/n Hughes!”

Cheers erupted as she stepped out onto the ice and she waved a little to the fans before being almost knocked to the ground by a body tackling her. Luke’s arms wrapped around his sister tightly, his head resting on hers. She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around him as well, “Hi Lukey.”

His voice was soft, “Hi.”

“When’d you get so tall?”

“I’ve always been tall, you’re just short.” He pulled away, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked at her. His eyes slightly glistened with tears before he pulled her into another hug. He murmured something at first, causing y/n to have to ask him to repeat it, “I’m really really really really really happy you’re here. I don’t think I could’ve gone another six months without you.”

She frowned and squeezed him a little tired before he ultimately pulled away and let Jack scoop her into a hug as well. Compared to Luke’s, Jack’s hug was relatively short because he was now antsy. This would be the first time in years that he would be playing in front of her and he wanted to make her proud. So when he pulled away about a minute later she looked at him confused. He only smiled at her before speaking, “I got the zoomies now.”

She threw her head back as she laughed, shaking her head at him. Her eyes moved round once more to see Quinn standing a foot or two away from her. When she opened her arms, he all but dove into them like Luke had done earlier. He, however, shed a few tears as his head buried into the shoulder. She patted his back and suddenly she realized how many eyes were actually on them. So while she wanted to continue her reunion with the three of them, she whispered something into his ear and he pulled away nodding. 

She waved one more time at the fans as the applause and made her way to the stands where her parents were. Once she was even slightly near her parents, Ellen pulled her into a hug, asking her a bunch of questions about when and how she got there. 

『••✎••』

After the game, y/n stood with Jim and Ellen as they waited for the boys to be done. She was in the middle of catching them up on her trip here when someone came from behind and hugged her tightly, slightly lifting her up. She squealed and turned around to hit Jack on the arm, “Hey!”

“What?” He said innocently as he threw an arm around her shoulder, “Can I not hug my sister who I haven’t seen in three years?”

“Of course you can.” She wrapped her arms around his torso and side-hugged him, “You just can’t pick me up.”

He scoffed a little, “Someone’s picky.”

“Where’s Luke and Quinn?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I was too excited to see you.”

At that moment, Luke and Quinn made their appearance right behind Jack and hit him over the head. Y/n rolled her eyes before hugging each of them, Quinn’s being a little longer than Luke’s. They all stared at each other once they stopped hugging and then they looked at their parents. 

“Can we go get dinner?” Jack asked.

She rolled her eyes, “Only if you’re paying rich boy.”

He shrugged before walking ahead of them. Y/n looped her arms through Quinn and Luke’s, walking down the hallway out of the arena, “Ah my favorite boys.”

“I heard that!”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, and 42,391 more

yourusername: home <3

tagged: _quinnhughes, jackhughes, lhughes_06

*comments on this post have been disabled*

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 1 🍒

“Austin”

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2K

Summary: new to the city, you befriend Sarah, and in a time of need you befriend her dad Joel

WARNINGS: this particular chapter is safe for everyone to read, but future chapters will contain smut; mild cursing, little bit of flirting; age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35); reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race specified and will not be throughout the series; until otherwise specified, this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: this was the first fic I ever wrote, after months of lurking on AO3. It's one of my favorites to write and probably my most popular on AO3, so I'm bringing her to the party. In this particular chapter Joel fixes a sink, and I did minimal investigating into the world of plumbing, so obviously any mistakes are just gonna be there.

Series Masterlist

Austin is quiet. So much quieter than where you came from: Houston, the city on the bayou, where there's always something fun to do. Not that Austin is without its charm, it just kind of feels like living on the moon after the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the fourth largest city in the US. But the people are friendly, the vibes are mellow, and you soon begin to feel at home.

Soon you'll be starting college at the University of Texas, a school you've had your eye on since fifth grade. Your mom, overprotective but meaning well, allowed you to stay with your older cousin Sofia rather than living on campus. And you're excited about it because even with a roommate, this is your first time on your own, away from home, about to really live your life.

School starts in a couple months, so in the meantime you get a job at a new Starbucks in town, providing you with a little spending money. The first few days are a blur, making drinks, learning the register. But it keeps you busy, A few times a week a younger group of kids come in, ordering the cheapest things on the menu. One of them, a girl 13 or 14 years old, approaches the counter. She studies the overhead menu with an air of seriousness. "What's in a frappuccino?" she asks.

"Um, coffee, espresso, milk, ice, and syrup blended together, basically. Comes with whipped cream on top. I could give you one to try," you offer, as your manager is out that day.

"Sure," the girl answers eagerly.

You make the cold, frothy drink and hand it to her. "I'm still pretty new at this, so if you hate it, I'm sorry," you joke.

She smiles and walks back to her friends, sipping the frapp.

You work until evening and pick up some fast food on the way home, Getting out of the car with your food you lean back against the vehicle, stretching a little, trying to wake yourself up a bit. Then you hear the sound of a truck coming up the driveway next door and the engine shutting off. There are a couple of voices you hear as the people begin to exit the truck.

"Hey, she's the one who gave me the free coffee today," you hear, and though it likely isn't meant for you to hear, you glance over and see the young girl from earlier today, climbing out of the truck. From around the driver's side you see a man, mid-thirties, tall, well-built, a black t-shirt clinging to his torso. Dirtied jeans and work boots complete his attire. It takes a moment before you realize he's looking at you.

Immediately you glance back at the girl, obviously his daughter. "Hey," you smile and give a quick, awkward wave. She waves back politely and he gives a curt nod and quick wave. They make their way up the front porch and you hear his gruff voice: "You had coffee? Great, now you'll be bouncin' off the walls all evenin'," before the door closes behind them.

"Guess I met my neighbors," you mutter, making your way inside as well.

Over the next few days the girl, who you now know as Sarah Miller, comes to Starbucks, ordering the same frapp every time. "Don't tell your dad I'm giving you all this caffeine," you tell her, hiding a smirk.

Sometimes you give her a ride home from the cafe, though she claims to use the bus now and then. You come to see that Sarah is a lot more mature than you were at her age. You hang out from time to time, swim in your backyard pool, go to the mall, and every time you drop her off you catch a glimpse of her dad, always a figure in the background. You exchange a wave or polite smile and move on.

It's your day off, a Sunday. You intend to spend the day lounging, watching TV. Maybe Sarah will stop by. After making a quick breakfast for yourself you do the dishes. When you're finished, you realize the class ring you'd set on the counter is gone, likely washed down the sink. "Damn!" you exclaim, and text Sofia, who has just left for work.

Go next door and ask Mr. Miller if he can take a look and get it out. He's helped around the house before your cousin replies.

You sigh and put the phone down.

You're a little hesitant going to speak to him. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's home. You knock on the door, feeling self-conscious about your first interaction with him, and Mr. Miller opens the door.

"Good morning," you introduce yourself. "I'm Sarah's friend.. from next door."

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Joel Miller." He extends a calloused hand and you shake it. You've always assumed him to be a man who does hard work for a living, but in your first time seeing him up close you admire his tousled, dark brown hair, his deep brown eyes that seem serious. "What can I do for ya?" he asks in his gentle Texan drawl.

You smile. "Well, I was told you're pretty handy around the house, and I lost my ring in the sink just now." You chuckle at your mistake. "Would it be possible for you to come over and take a look?" You feel really shy about asking this of a man you barely know.

He takes a moment to think, clears his throat, raises his brow. "I suppose I could stop by." His tone is gruff but his manner seems warm enough. "I'll give it a shot. I'm no plumber, but I'll see what I can do." He shrugs.

You smile and sigh with relief. "Of course. I mean, even you just checking it out would be a big help.. whenever you can stop by I'll be here." You don't want to make demands on his time.

"All right.. I'm not doin' much right now, so I could swing 'round if you like. Just let me grab my toolbox."

Once inside, with minimal conversation Joel gets on the floor, under the sink, and gets to work. You wait nearby, trying not to hover, but also wanting to be available in case he needs anything. Plus he's good looking. You watch as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing his torso, and a hint of the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes wander lower until you force them away. To distract yourself you start putting things away in the cupboard.

"Sarah tells me you're new to Austin," he says as he works.

"Yeah, I'm actually from Houston. I'm starting UT in the fall, and staying with my cousin in the meantime. I take it you know Sofia?"

"I do. She's nice. I keep an eye on her place when she's away. Even when you're there."

You mean to say something in reply, maybe 'thank you' but you're thinking about him keeping a protective watch over your home while you're inside, unaware.

"So you're starting university? How old are ya?" he asks.

Something about his question makes you feel like a deer in headlights. "I'll be nineteen in September. On the twenty-sixth."

You can almost hear the smile in his voice. "No shit? That's my birthday. Except I'm far from nineteen. Small world, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you say, sneaking another glance at his torso.

"What're you studyin'?"

"English," you answer, excited to talk about it. "More specifically Literature. I want to write, and maybe one day work at a huge publishing house."

You hear Joel give a grunt. "What do you write?"

"Poetry sometimes, short stories, I have a few ideas for novels."

Another grunt. "You don't look like the type.. the writer type.. no offense."

"What type do I look like?" Your heart races as you realize he's categorized you already.

He peeks out from under the sink and his eyes fix on you in a way that makes you shiver. "I don't know yet. But you're young. Maybe you're the rebellious type." He goes back to work.

You sit on the floor, your back against the fridge opposite him. "How am I the rebellious type to you?"

He's quiet, and you see the gleam of his eyes from where he's under the sink. "Haven't quite figured it out yet.."

You can tell he's having fun with this, and there's a vibration in the air, a palpable chord struck, and you wonder if he feels it too.

"Anything I can do? Feeling kinda helpless over here," you chuckle.

"Just stay out of the way," his voice is more gruff than maybe he intends. Frowning, his eyes focus on an item lodged in the P-trap. He reaches in and pulls out your ring. It's covered in gunk and grime but you recognize it immediately.

"Oh shit! Thank you..." It's your class ring. 'Class of 2003' is engraved on the side, with a princess cut sapphire on top. You put it aside to clean it later.

Joel smirks. "No problem."

"I really owe you one."

"I dunno about that. Just don't go throwin' away your valuable stuff next time, okay?" He's teasing, almost playful.

You laugh "Okay.. hey I'm working at the cafe tomorrow. If you come by I could get you a free coffee." You put the offer out there, testing the waters though you aren't sure why.

"Free coffee? Careful, girl, between giving away free stuff to me and Sarah, you're gonna run Starbucks out of business," he grins. "But yeah, I might have to stop by."

You walk him out, even though Joel says it's not necessary, but you can tell he enjoys your company. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Joel.. Mr. Miller."

He stifles a chuckle. There's a touch of amusement in the way he speaks to you, but he hides it behind a warm, open expression. "Call me Joel. No need to be so formal around me."

"If my mom was here she'd say I was being disrespectful, calling you by your first name." You can't help a little blush.

"I won't complain about respect," he smiles again.

"She's pretty protective of me," you describe your living situation, your freedom that is being given in increments.

"Well your mom might've done you a favor there." Joel looks out past your front porch. "That's probably a wise decision, ya know? What about your dad? He ok with you living far from home?"

You shake your head. "He's not.. really in the picture. My parents divorced about five years ago. My dad went up north, Minnesota I think, and I haven't seen him since.." You feel a little vulnerable revealing this.

Joel's brow furrows and his expression darkens. You wonder if he's thinking about Sarah. You don't know much about her mother and haven't felt okay to ask. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right?"

You shrug. "I guess so. I've managed this long without him.." You give a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this.."

"No problem, I don't mind listenin'. Do me a favor," he says suddenly. "Be careful out there, okay?"

Something about this catches you off guard. "Of course I will."

He smiles. "Good. I'll see you at the cafe tomorrow," he phrases it like a hopeful question.

"Bright and early," you say, feeling a few butterflies in your stomach.

He laughs and nods. "Til then."

You watch him leave and though you cringe at how young, foolish, childish you must appear to him, you can't deny that you feel something, even for a brief moment. Maybe it's nothing. But something about him sticks with you, an odd feeling in your chest. But it's just a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. He has a family, he's twice your age. You're focused on school and your future. Joel Miller is the last person you should be thinking about...

...right?

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin. 

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make. 

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked. 

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly. 

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time. 

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked. 

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were. 

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you. 

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter. 

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating. 

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare. 

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength. 

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”. 

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”. 

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”. 

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame. 

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. 

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class. 

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance. 

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit. 

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic. 

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep. 

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable. 

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head. 

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor. 

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer. 

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone. 

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song. 

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you. 

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you. 

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face. 

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk. 

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand. 

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”. 

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students. 

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot. 

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight. 

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with. 

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

taglist: @joeldjarin @pedrorascal @magpiepills @eliza-8 @noisynightmarepoetry @untamedheart81 @eldauvs @paanchusblog

let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist!

[musubi-sama]

“Classmates”

You are officially Shoko Ieri’s girlfriend, but why are you being followed and gently threatened by two tall, disgustingly handsome men?

CW: afab!reader x shoko ieri, modern au, mild stalking, the boys being intimidating, toys, cunnilingus, shower sex, lady love, mild plot

AN: This is baby’s first fan fic, my first piece of fiction and self-indulgent prose. The world needs more yuri/sapphic/lady stories and I hope I can do it a modicum of justice. I will probably write out the two flashback references as additional chapters once I figure out what I want to do with them.

WC: 4.9k

Next chapter —

“Let’s continue that little thread from last night after classes today?” she responds before pulling away and heading off to the lecture hall. “I’ll make sure to take ‘extra meticulous’ notes for you!” Your girlfriend puts extra emphasis and holds up sassy airquotes (even gives a little sideways nudge with her hip) because she’s notoriously a poor lecture student and you pay attention almost too much and too well, taking notes furiously from your front and center seat.

You give her a cute giggle and wave as she walks away; you’re heading off to meet with your adviser to discuss a research opportunity. While you walk across the quad into the neighboring dining hall to grab your usual Starbucks order (iced caramel machiatto).

Meanwhile, a pair of tall, offensively handsome men doing what would otherwise be a scene from a spy movie, fold the top half of a newspaper down and watch you and Shoko embrace and go your separate ways.

“Suguru, who the hell was that talking to Sho?” the white-haired, ethereally blue eyed man says a bit too loudly to his dark-haired, enigmatically purple eyed friend. The pair sit on the bench gawking, although the dark haired man winces at the volume of his friend.

“You’re going to give us away, shush, Satoru! I don’t know who she is or what that was about but let’s follow her” Suguru gets up and beckons in your general direction “and see where she goes” Satoru gets up and they both follow you at a safe distance, catching up with you as you are waiting for your order at Starbucks. Satoru perks up and nudges Suguru in the side with a cheeky smile when he hears the barista announce your order. “She can’t be that bad, she’s got a sweet tooth!”

“Let’s see where she goes from here.” Suguru pinches his chin as he watches you from across the cafe. You navigate around a few tables to reach the exit and head off to your meeting. While waiting for the elevator to the fifth floor, you catch a flash of messy-but-styled white hair from around the corner, but chalk it up to sleep deprivation and stress.

You make it to your adviser and he walks you through a few research opportunities, but the drawback is that you will need to take a year between finishing your primary in-classroom education and your clinical rotations. And the one that you like the most is across the country. Great timing, just after you finally get a girlfriend and think you may have your little life settled into a comfortable routine. Maybe you wait a few weeks to discuss this with Shoko. But maybe she would want you to bring it up sooner, it’s not like you haven’t known her for four years already. The responsible partner would talk about it soon. But you’ve never been too keen on bringing up tough subjects in a reasonable or quick manner, opting to mull quietly, by yourself, not wanting to bother other people or respond to negative feedback.

As you’re arguing with yourself, you take the elevator back down the ground floor and head outside to hole up in the library until Shoko is out of the morning’s lectures.

Except you don’t notice the two tall handsome boys following you from the lobby across the quad. They take notice of your internal conflicts written across your face and lack of spatial awareness to surround you and you bump into a dense, immovable statue. Fortunately for you, it’s not an actual statue, but a person, so there is a softness in the knock and a pair of arms quickly wrap around you to make sure you don’t fall. Two sets of arms, actually.

“Ah, Iamsosorry” You attempt to stammer out as you are brought out of your internal arguments. You look up to see long, feathered jet-black hair, reaching past the shoulders, but pulled partially up into a bun. Face framed by bangs hanging on one side. Piercing, focused, concerned violet eyes, and a soft smile. Your first impression is that he is cat-like. He catches you off-guard but you feel safe. As you step back to give him space and continue to your destination, your back bumps into an equally statuesque figure. But he’s the polar opposite when you tilt your head back and look up at him. A shock of white hair, dark round sunglasses, giant smile bearing all his teeth, ocean blue eyes piercing you. It’s unsettling how it feels like he’s reading every thought you’re having right now, in the past, and the future. “Oh, excuse me…” you mumble but it just trails off.

“Oh hello there.” Suguru places his hands on your shoulders to steady you. It feels nice, reassuring, considering you just knocked around some coastal rocks. “My name is Suguru Geto and this is Satoru Gojo. We just happened to see you walking across campus and you seemed distracted. Wouldn’t want you walking into anyone and causing a disturbance. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Yeah, what’s a girl like you doing so distracted?” You’re caught off guard by the brazen question. And confused by the implications. What kind of girl do they think you are?

“Sorry, I really just want to go to the library. I’m meeting my girlfriend soon.” You try to side-step the pair and they move in tandem to block your path. Ah, you start to feel the familiar anxiety of being pestered by someone who can’t understand that ‘no’ is a full and complete statement. What you fail to notice, is the shock that zipped through the boys’ expressions.

“I am sorry for the brashness of my companion” Suguru tilts his head up to give Satoru a piercing stare before his gaze softens again and he looks back at you. You feel as if you’re the only person in the entire world as he looks down. Completely taken by his gaze, feeling his arms re-settle on your forearms for a moment before dropping to his sides, giving you space with the lack of physical touch. “But we saw you with a friend of ours and we were just concerned for her. She always introduces anyone beyond a mere acquaintance to us, and we are only looking out for her best interests.” Satoru uses this opportunity to step around to your front, hands in his pockets. Although he still has a mischievous grin on his face.

“Er, what? I am sure that any one I am friends with surely doesn’t require a white knight or dark stallion to protect her honor.” You attempt to cut the conversation short.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely correct, dear. How about we get to know you over dinner? Our treat for being so forward. Tomorrow, pick you up at 7:00? I know a place that does great bananas foster with homemade caramel” Satoru winks, and you realize you’re still holding your coffee. You’re clutching it now, hoping he didn’t see that you asked for extra caramel drizzle in your coffee today. You’re a people pleaser, so you just quickly agree to the plans. You ask for their LineID and as you’re walking away, you get two messages immediately:

Can’t wait to see you, sweets! Looking forward to dinner and getting to know you.

Finally making it to the library, feeling buzzed, and not from the sugar or caffeine. But you manage to find some shred of focus for the next two hours. Your phone buzzes and you start to pack up your books and laptop. You respond to Shoko’s message that she’s out of class and heading to the dining hall with a quick “Yay, save me a seat!” message even though you know you don’t have to ask.

“How was the Pharmacology lecture?” You ask, while attempting to unhinge your jaw around a particularly ambitious forkful of salad. Your girlfriend just smiles at you over her soup.

“Hm, well you know how engaging Dr. Smith is at his age. I made sure to get an audio recording of the lectures and of course the slide notes include the markups from in-class.”

“Aww, thank you! You’re the best.”

Shoko gives you a fond smile as you both settle back into eating lunch. You continue chatting about classes, you feel confident over your polite dodging of any real answer to how your adviser meeting went “Ah, well, I am waiting for him to email me with some details on a couple research opportunities.” Shoko seems satisfied, or at least doesn’t have any follow up questions to your response. You don’t feel comfortable about lying to your best friend, your girlfriend, but you didn’t really tell her lies. Just, not the whole truth. You’ll tell her, soon. You promised yourself. That was the decision you had settled on right as you bumped into-

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something. I have two friends I’ve known since forever and I want to introduce you to them. I have kept you from them until now because they can be somewhat, very, incredibly, protective of me and intrusive to anyone who gets close. But they are good people, even if I have to kick their asses when they pull their little “baby Shoko” stunts.” Shoko puts her hands on yours and looks straight at you, although struggles to keep eye contact when she mentions her friends’ not-so-kind traits.

You consider her question and do not want to respond too quickly or eagerly, but you have wanted to build some new relationships before your life gets too much more hectic with clerkships, graduation, and intern year on the horizon. And if these new friends are already friends with Shoko, then it’s even easier because you would want any new friends to be comfortable with both of you. You may only be newly dating, but you’ve already fallen for Shoko quite hard and want to settle down. Or something like that? You haven’t taken a breath to really figure your brain out.

“Oh, well, why don’t we get drinks and see how things go? I like the idea of making new friends, let’s give it a try!” You try to hold back your over-eagerness, but you let slip big excited eyes and slotting your fingers into Shoko’s hands and squeezing. A small squeal may have also escaped your lips, you’re bad a poker. And Shoko loves it. She gives you a soft smile, leans over to drop a peck on your cheek. The rest of lunch passes with easy conversation. You head off to your afternoon lectures and study sessions together.

After classes finished, you both headed back to Shoko’s apartment. Even before you started dating, you spent most of your free time at her place. It was closer, bigger, quieter, and nicer than your apartment. You grab a pair of beers from the fridge after you finished cleaning up from dinner and walk over to the couch. Shoko turned on Netflix and started the nightly ritual of scrolling new and recently updated shows to see what caught either of your interests before settling on one of the six shows you’re already in the middle of watching. You sit sideways and hand over one of the beers, laying your legs across your girlfriend’s lap. She settles on watching the next episode of your shared guilty pleasure, Doctor X. During the opening credits, your phone buzzes several times with messages on Line.

“Ugh, what is it now? I should’ve left it in the bedroom” you grumble as you lean over to the table and pick up your phone that has now buzzed four times. You see a newly familiar name pop up and scowl.

“What’s wrong, love?” Shoko perks up and looks over to you as you start to read the messages, more coming in while you’re reading.

“I literally ran into a pair of criminally attractive guys. Boys, really. They did that High School-Hollywood thing of boxing me in, making me look up, and then not taking no for an answer. I agreed to get dinner with them tomorrow just so they’d leave me alone and go away.” You flash her the phone with the messages. Her usually subtle expression shifted much more dramatically when she saw who you were talking about.

“Wait. You ran into, literally? Gojo and Geto? Tall, one with white hair sticking up in stupid directions and acting with way too much bravado, the other with big ear gauges and an air of incredible self-confidence? Today? Where? When?” She stops her idle massaging of your legs and turns towards you, taking your phone to read more carefully what they had sent:

Heyyyyyy. Wear something cute? Do you like Mediterranean? :)

“Yyyyeah that matches the pair. Why, do you know them? Have they bothered you on campus before?”

Shoko snickers softly. “You could say that. Remember the pair of friends I wanted you to meet? Looks like they found you first.”

“Oh.” You look down at your hands for a moment and then suddenly you remember what Suguru said to you “we saw you with a friend of ours and we were just concerned for her…” “Oh, wait a second. You’re the friend they were talking about!” And you relay the conversation you had with Suguru and Satoru to Shoko who just shakes her head and sucks her teeth.

“Yeah, those bastards. I told them to wait till this weekend, I had news for them and someone to meet. But they just HAD to get impatient.”

“I will call off dinner! Can I have my phone back, please?” you reach out your hand to begin composing a polite response to the nuisance pair.

“No, don’t. Just have them come over first. And then they can take BOTH of us to dinner.”

As soon as you send off your address, you put your phone down. Shoko’s ministrations on your legs intensifies subtly, but clearly with an agenda. You lean back against the arm of the couch as Shoko slowly massages her hands up your legs, focusing on the softer flesh on the insides of your thighs. You part your legs for her slightly as she gets closer to your clothed core.

The days have been long and you’ve hardly had time for yourself or your relationship since you’ve put official titles on it. You shift yourself so you’re now straddling Shoko. You reach your hands around her neck, threading your hands under her long, wheat-colored brown hair. When you met her, her hair was only touching her shoulders, but now it’s reaching far down her back. Her lips are so soft and inviting, a gentle sheen of spit covering them. Your eyes rake over her face, taking in every facial micromovement. You admire her lone freckle below her eye, something you’ve always found cute.

You lean in, lips parting slightly as her eyes glance up at you, pupils darkening in desire. As your tongues slipped past each other, they danced delicately but with increasing urgency as your lips press harder and Shoko takes a brief opening to nip at your lower lip, drawing out a soft moan from you. Your hands hold her neck tighter, one slipping up through her hair, giving it a light tug. Her hands start sliding back in between your legs, the side of her pinky finger lightly grazing your center which elicits a small grind from you. As your kiss slowly turns more frantic, trading breaks for air with trails of urgency on each others jawline, Shoko reaches under your shirt to gently wrap her hands under your voluminous tits. Still seated in a soft bralette, your nipples begin to harden as her hands slowly squeeze and make their way into the bralette and find your nipples with a soft squeeze.

You drop your hands to your sides and toss your head back at the sharp, but pleasurable sensations and start to roll your hips in Shoko’s lap, looking for some friction and relief for the growing tension. You whimper as the pinching and squeezing intensifies, tilting your head back up and you are met with eyes filled with pure lust. “I told you I wanted to continue from last night” Shoko growls. You just respond with a low moan. Shoko then uses her forearms to slide your shirt up and over your head, taking your bralette with it.

Now, your fully exposed chest and abdomen, your nipples clearly taut in response to the pleasure being shown to them. Shoko then leans down to one, taking it in her mouth with a light suck. Keeping her hand squeezing the other, she lightly bites down, rolling the puckered nipple in her teeth, sliding her slick tongue across. She releases it with a pop, letting it and your breast drop and give a little lewd jiggle. She repeats the process on your other nipple. You are still wantonly grinding your hips in her lap, keening against her touch.

As your body continues to relax, your brain slowly shutting off the noise and entering that cozy, listful, lustful subspace headspace, your hands claw at your girlfriends’ shirt and pull it off of her during a brief moment when her lips aren’t attached to your body. The moment her skin is exposed, you bring yourself vertical and then over, pressing your breasts into hers, enjoying the soft and supple squeezes from your body weight onto Shoko. You reach in to grasp the sides of your shared mass of tits, squeezing and pushing them together.

You are in a daze, skin on fire, as you are drunk from your beer and the lust spreading through your veins. You always knew you were bisexual, although you couldn’t put a fine point on it until you met Shoko while at your lab’s new grad student orientation 3 and a half years ago. You moved across the country for grad school, knowing you’d need to start over again and find new (local) friends. You were taking in the space when you turned around and saw Shoko Ieri walk in the room, immediately disorienting you and a sudden warmth spreading into your center. You couldn’t look her in the eye for the entire first month.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Shoko brings you out of your daze as she wraps her hand around the back of your neck. “Want to start with that new toy I picked up recently?”

“O-oh, yeah, I haven’t tried something like that before!” You start to untangle yourself from Shoko and roll off the couch. You’re chased by Shoko into the bedroom as she reaches out to pinch at your sweatpants-covered ass, you making sure she can still catch you. There’s fun in the chase, but so is there in getting caught. You leap at the bed, spin around and sit on your legs patiently while Shoko disappears into her closet. She returns quickly, now in nothing but a lace thong and brandishing a modest, slightly curved silicone dildo in her hands, twirling her hair with her other hand. You bounce a bit in anticipation, soft tits still jiggling as you stop moving. You move to remove your sweatpants, but are cut off.

“Ah ah ah, hands off. Why are you trying to deny me the fun? I said we are going to continue from yesterday. Which means it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“We don’t need to keep a running tally for equitability sake!” you whine, sticking your lip out in an over-exaggerated pout.

“You’re right, but since this is celebrating us putting some structure and a title to” she waves her hand between the two of you “this, I want to finish what you started. Now, lay back, please.” You settle on the duvet, heart racing, feeling giddy. Last night you off-handedly said ‘I love you’ over dinner at home. It came out of nowhere, but you were just chatting and catching up from the day over a bowl of spaghetti, and it just fell out of your mouth while Shoko nearly choked mid-slurp.

Shoko sets the toy down on the bed and climbs up the bed, caging you in. As she reaches your middle, she sits back on her heels and tugs at your pants. She loved how you always returned to your own apartment or hers and would immediately change into comfortable room wear, shedding the stuffy denim and wired bras for soft cottons and gentle elastics. Pulling your hair back to keep it out of your face, it certainly made easier to grab in the heat of sex and teasing. After she removed your pants and panties, reveling at your exposed frame, Shoko admired your neatly trimmed hair framing your glistening pussy. “Mine.”

Soft kisses with small nibbles sprinkled in begin to chase up the inside of your legs, feet planted on the bed. As the kisses intensify, your knees fall further apart. Your hands come up to your hair as you lace your fingers through to ground yourself. Gently, two fingers spread your folds open and you let out a small gasp. “Mmm I just love to tease your pussy.” One slender finger slides in, your soft walls pulling it in deeper until your girlfriend’s middle finger is sheathed up to the knuckle. She flips her palm upwards and curls the finger inside of you while bringing her thumb to rest on your hardening clitoris. Your hips begin to buck at the movements, moans increasing. Slowly sliding her finger out, pressure still on your clit, Shoko adds a second finger and begins to rub circles with her thumb and thrusting her fingers in and out. She looks up from her ministrations to watch your face go through a million small emotions in pleasure. “That’s it, love. Let me hear you, don’t hold back.” You unwind on her hand, fluttering around her fingers, riding out your high with loud moans and grinding hips.

As you come back down, Shoko reaches over to the toy, aligning the flat, angled tip with your hole, pulling out her fingers. “Ready?” she whispers, but with an edge of gravel on her voice. She also grabs a small remote that you didn’t initially see and reaches up to place it in your hands. “I also got a treat for you. Feel free to press the buttons as you want and see what happens”

Slowly, Shoko presses the toy into your soaked pussy, as the tip disappears in, she turns it on to the lowest vibration setting. You give a sharp inhale as you push your head back further into the pillows. You recollect yourself as the toy makes its way further into you, and bring your hand up to see what this remote is. Just two buttons, marked by a plus and minus sign. You touch the plus button and suddenly a sultry and surprised “Ahhh mmmmm” Shoko whines from between your legs. Her progress to slide in the toy momentarily halted as she adjusted to the vibrating inside of her. She regains composure as she seats the toy fully inside you and rotates it around until you slam your eyes shut and cry out in pure pleasure. “Ah ha, found it. So hot.” Shoko bought a g-spot vibrator and adjusted it till she found the right spot inside of you.

Squirming somewhat, Shoko slowly moves the vibrator around, placing her free hand on your abdomen with pressure against you. Your hips begin to gyrate and roll with increased intensity every time the head of the toy makes contact with the spongy sensitive bundle of nerves inside your walls. “Sho—Shooookoooo ple- FUCK please~” you preen and attempt to stammer out some words. You increase the intensity on the remote.

“Ye-s, l-ove? You’re doing so, so, hnf, well, better than the fantasies I had all day of this- of this mooooment.” Shoko showers you with praise, stuttered by her own building pleasure, knowing exactly what is to come next.

“Ahhh, Sho—Shoko, I’m-com-” You attempt to tell her what you’re feeling as the pressure in your abdomen has reached a fever pitch, ready to incinerate you at the lightest touch. Shoko steadies the vibrator right on the nerves and brings her thumb up to apply pressure to your clit and lowers her body to get closer to your core. “Give it all to me.” At that moment you scream obscenities as your body releases the built-up pressure and you squirt directly into Shoko’s waiting mouth. Helping you ride out your pleasure pushed Shoko over the edge, too, as she rolls her hips along with the waves of her own orgasm. As your body begins to slow it’s movements, she turns off the vibrator and removes it from you. She also reaches down to her own bullet vibrator and removes it, still shaking as you’re too high on your own pleasure to find the remote.

Shoko sits up and wipes your slick from her face, reaching a hand up to you to clean off. “Good girl.” You whimper at the affirmation, pulling on her wrist to bring her up to you, her body draped on yours. When you finish lapping up the wetness on her hand, you twist your head over and your mouths meet in lazy but passionate kissing. Tongues lazily exploring each other, gratitude shared between the two of you.

“Shower?” You nod, slowly rolling yourself over, legs finding the ground albeit a bit shakily. Shoko steps out ahead, sliding into the en suite ahead of you to warm up the shower and grab towels. You stand in front of the mirror admiring your body, re-adjusting your hair and pulling the strays that have fallen out back up. You step in to the shower, bottoms of your feet chilled on the hard tile floor, but skin warmed by the scaldingly hot shower.

“Ahhhh, perfect” You reach out to rest your hands on Shoko’s waist as you both take a moment to relax in the warmth of each other and the water.

“Yeah, you are, love.” You giggle at the admiration. Shoko’s hands come up to gently massage your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples. She closes the gap between you and nudges her leg in between yours, rubbing her thigh against your sensitive folds. You let out a soft moan, feeling sensitive and on-edge already, after just a moment. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You continue to grind on her thigh as she holds pressure against your heat. Your hands slide up to Shoko’s chin, cupping her face and you dive in for a kiss. Your lips are urgent and needy as you moan into her mouth, biting her lips with every wave of building pressure. After several minutes, Shoko breaks the kiss, pulling away and you whine as her leg also pulls back. She begins kissing down the column of your neck, down the center of your clevage, past your navel, sinking to her knees to worship at your altar.

Wordlessly, Shoko nudges your legs further apart, guiding you so you are now leaning against the cold wall of the shower. Placing her hands on the front of your thighs, she slides them up to your folds and with her thumbs, spreads your pussy open, exposing your wet core to the warm shower air. She leans in to take a soft lick, savoring the first taste. You lean back on the wall for support, hands threading through Shoko’s hair.

“God you taste amazing. I can’t get enough of you.” Shoko uses her nose to rub against your oversensitive clit, reaching her tongue inside your sensitive cunt, applying light suction as she goes. Drinking up every drop your body offers, you can feel her moans reaching deep within you. Moving between deep licks inside your pussy to abusing your clit with the tip and flat of her tongue, you can feel the coil again twisting inside of you. With your moans completely unrestrained, you use your grip on her head to keep her pinned against your center.

“Baby, love, god” Shoko praises you at each short breath she takes. You don’t even have a moment to tell her as suddenly the coil snaps and you silently scream as she eagerly accepts the orgasm she pulled from your body. Her hands wrapping around your hips, holding you close as you buck against her touch. Once you have stopped moving so harshly, she stands up and your lips crash together one more time, you licking your wetness off her face, her embracing and holding you.

“I’ve never felt so relaxed with someone, Sho. You’re my best friend, my love, I can’t see a future without you.” Your mouth is moving faster than your brain, letting your admissions tumble out. A common occurrence for you recently. Shoko just smiles and you wash each other clean, taking time to massage tender areas, and scrub the rough ones. After you step out of the shower, you both go through your nightly skin care and pre-bed routines. Passing products between each other, prepping and moving as one practiced unit.

Now laying in bed, you are in the crook of your girlfriends’ arm while you both scroll on your phones. Eventually putting them down and rolling into a more comfortable sleeping position (as cute as cuddling is, you both know that it’s not comfortable for sleeping all night. No one likes numb limbs!). You both drift off to sleep, feeling happy and content with each other.

[afictionaladventure16]

Hey! I love your Tim Bradford x teen! Reader fics! Was wondering could you do another one? Reader reconnects with someone they met through the system who's had a rough go. Maybe they were in the same house for a while and relied on each other a lot in that house to keep each other safe. But as they reconnect reader doesn't realise how toxic the relationship is. Tamara knows the dodgy stuff that the kid gets up to from her time in the system and warns Lucy and Tim because she doesn't want reader to fall back into bad habits with them. Maybe reader gets in trouble and calls Tamara to save them?

Reconnections and Regrets (Tim Bradford x Teen!Foster!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of guns and drugs

Summary: After trying to reconnect with people in the past, y/n realizes quickly why the past should stay in the past.

Author's note: I feel like this one wasn't the best fic I've done so far. I really liked this idea for the fic, though! I hope you enjoy it! Send in some more Tim Bradford x Teen!reader angsty fics!

You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t get back into your old habits. 

That you would forget your past and move forward, just like Tamara had done, and just as every other kid within the system wishes they could do. To have the ability to find someone to take you under their wing and help you forget your past. An opportunity to start over. 

But here you were, texting an old friend with plans to catch up later that afternoon. You couldn’t help but smile at the messages, you were excited to catch up with old friends. But most of all, you were excited to catch up with a special someone that you hadn’t seen since Tim took you in. 

The special someone was a boy named Jacob, the two of you had been in a foster home together when you were younger and he protected you from your foster father and well, you tried to do the same. You couldn’t help but develop feelings for him over the years. 

The last you heard about him was that he was living with his cousin, from what you knew, this cousin was bad news and you could not help but worry about Jacob living there. Especially since he stopped responding to your messages when he moved in with his cousin. It felt like he had just pushed you away. 

“What are you smiling about?” Tamara asked as she sat on the couch beside you. You had come over since Tim wasn’t home yet, and well, since Lucy and Tim were dating it now felt like you had two homes instead of one. 

“Nothing,” you responded. 

You could feel Tamara peeking over your shoulder to look at your phone, you quickly locked it and put it on your lap. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Jessica,” she pleaded. 

“Alright, I won’t.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Y/N, you know how I feel about her.” 

“Look, I’m just trying to reconnect, what harm-” 

“You know what can happen. You gotten out of that life and now you’re trying to go back? You get Starbucks on the daily, you’re in the cheer team and you go to a self-defense class for crying out loud. You’re not the same girl you used to be, so don’t think they’ll be coming at you with open arms.” 

You gave her a small glare, “Stop acting like you don’t think about going back to see your old friends from time to time.” You got up from the couch, “Maybe instead of focusing so much on my life, you should take a look at yours first.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tamara asked as she followed you as you walked towards the door, “Where are you going?” 

“Out,” you stated as you walked out of the apartment. 

“Fuck,” Tamara exclaimed. Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut, but she felt she had to say something, otherwise, you would end up hurt. But now she felt like she had made things worse. 

On the other hand, you were annoyed by how she was right and maybe you got angry with her out of fear. Fear that maybe your friends, like Tamara had said, wouldn’t be as inviting as you think they would be. You hadn’t just changed through your personality but through your appearance too. You now had someone who would take you shopping for clothes you always wanted to wear, but never did out of fear of them getting stolen or taken from you. 

You acted like a completely different person now. A person who learned to trust a little more easily and you now weren’t afraid to just be yourself. 

On my way over, you sent it to Jessica. 

It wouldn’t take long for you to get back to the old neighborhood, it was a twenty-minute bus ride away. Or thirty minutes walking, but with the Los Angeles heat, you’d take your chances with the bus. 

~~ 

A couple of hours passed, and Tamara had not received anything from you. Beginning to worry had already surpassed, she was the definition of completely terrified of what could go wrong. She should’ve texted Tim or Lucy the second you left, but she wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but not the guilt was eating away at her. She let out a frustrated groan and called Lucy. 

Lucy picked up after a few rings, “What’s up?” 

“Look before you start yelling, I was trying to warn her okay?” 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows, “What happened?” 

“Please don’t be mad, but Y/N was here and I saw her messaging one of her old friends and we got into an argument about it and now she’s not responding and I’m scared she’s gonna fall back into some bad habits, especially because this girl is known for doing certain things.” 

“How long ago did she leave?” Lucy asked. 

“Like two hours ago,” Tamara confessed. 

“And you’re barely calling me?” Lucy raised her voice, but quickly let out a sigh, “Do you think she went to see this friend?” 

“I know she did,” Tamamra hesitantly said. 

“Alright, for now, we’ll just see things out. We can’t just go there all guns blazing when there is no trouble,” Lucy stated. Although, she wanted to go all guns blazing because she was worried for Y/N’s safety. 

“Are we going to tell Tim?” 

“Tim already knows,” Tim announced. Tamara could hear the anger in his voice, and the fact that he never said anything until now, meant that he was indeed angry. 

“Look, just keep us updated, let us know if you hear anything from her, alright?” Lucy said. 

“Alright,” Tamara hung up the phone. 

Lucy didn’t say anything to Tim, she waited until he did, but he remained silent. 

Lucy let out a deep breath, “do you want to talk about it?” 

“Talk about what?” Tim asked. 

Lucy rolled her eyes, “About Y/N sneaking off to see her old friends? I mean, it’s obvious that you’re angry.” 

“I’m not angry.” 

“You’re not?” She asked in almost disbelief. 

“I’m disappointed. I thought she trusted me enough to tell me things, well, I thought we had gotten to that point. Now I feel like we hadn’t made any progress at all.” 

“You know that’s not true,” Lucy began to say. 

“Is it?” Tim cut her off, “because from my perspective, it doesn’t look good. I love this kid and I want to be more than just another foster home for her, but almost every time we get close to making a breakthrough she pushes me away.” 

Lucy sighed, she felt that maybe with her experience with Tamara, she would know what to say, but somehow this was different. “Just give her some time,” Lucy suggested. 

Tim wanted to say that he had given her all the time in the world, but that made it sound like he was giving up, and he didn’t want to give up. He just wished he knew what to do. 

~~ 

You had been with Jessica walking around your old neighborhood for the past two hours, hoping to run into Jacob and it didn’t take you too long. 

From a distance, you can see Jacob at the park talking to some guys that looked to be older. 

Jessica smirked as she watched you stare at Jacob from a distance, “you know he still asks about you.” 

You scoffed, “really?” she gave you a nod, “yet he won’t return a text.” 

“He thinks he’s too tough for all that shit now, he even dropped out of school,” Jessica commented. She walked in front of you, “We should go over there,” she suggested. 

Now that you were here, you had a sort of fear lingering in the back of your head. You knew the chances of hanging out with Jacob meant that you could get into trouble, but that voice inside of your head just wanted to talk to him once more. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” 

“Oh come on, Y/N. Don’t act like your main purpose for hitting me up was so you could see him again,” Jessica grabbed your hand and began leading you to the park. That fear within the back of your head was beginning to get louder the closer you got to Jacob. 

“Maybe I should go home,” you began to say. Jacob was only steps away and at the sound of your voice he quickly turned around. 

“No way,” he said with a smile on his face. “Ain’t no way she came back to see us,” he exclaimed as you sighed and walked up to him. “For a second I was beginning to think you were too good for us.” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment, “How you’ve been?” you asked. 

He glanced over at his friends then diverted his eyes back at you, “I’ve been decent.” Jessica walked over to his friends, of course she would know who they were. She was quick to strike up a conversation with them. Jacob took a couple of steps away from the group, gesturing for you to get closer. 

“I heard you’re staying with your cousin,” you began. 

“You shouldn’t have come back, Y/N,” Jacob warned. “You got out and I’m proud that you did.” 

“It’s not too late for you to do the same,” you commented. 

He shook his head, “I’m too deep in this shit.” You knew what that meant. You knew that his chances of getting out of this life were gone. “You really shouldn’t have come back, people know you’re staying with a cop. My cousin knows,” he began. 

Your heart began to race, “Why did you stop texting me back?” You asked. You had to ask before you left, you knew his cousin had beef with cops and anyone associated with them. 

“You left and well, I had to go with my cousin and that meant-” 

“I know,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear him say it. To hear him say that he stopped talking to you not just for your own good, but his as well. 

“You really should go,” he began to say. From the distance you could hear the roar of an engine, it caught Jacob’s attention. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Sounds like your cousin is back,” One of the other guys began to say. 

You looked over at Jessica, “we should go,” you said. 

Jessica opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the roar of the engine, a second later a car came into view and parked in the parking lot of the park. 

A guy came out of the car and began making his way over to the group, “So the rumors are true,” he began to say. “Jacob’s little girlfriend is back,” He smirked. 

“Hey, Frankie,” you said. 

“Is that all I get? Hey Frankie?” He scoffed before looking over at Jacob, “I need you to come with me,” he began as he glanced over at you, “and bring your little girlfriend.” 

“No, Frankie. You already know she liv-” 

“Did you just tell me no?” Frankie interrupted Jacob. “Do you not remember the last time I had to put you in your place?” Jacob clenched his fists, “or do you need a refresher?” 

“Fine,” Jacob grabbed a hold of your hand, “let’s go.” 

“Wait, what? I-I need to go home,” you pleaded. 

“No, no,” Frankie began, “you’re coming with us now.” 

You felt your anxiety rise within you, this is what Tamara had warned her about. This is what she was afraid of and now it was too late. 

“Jacob,” you whispered to him as soon as you stepped away from Frankie, “Where are we going?” 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I told you, you shouldn’t have come back.” 

You remained silent, the best thing you could do right now was to stay calm. 

Frankie drove the two of you two a house down the street, he led the two of you inside, “Dude, what the fuck, why did you bring us here?” 

“I told you I wanted to show the business,” Frankie said. 

“And you thought it was wise to bring her here?” Jacob commented. You looked around to see equipment you couldn’t recognize and powder inside blenders. You knew what was happening here wasn’t good at all, it was a lab of some sorts. A shitty one at that. 

“I want her to see what we’re doing, if she says anything then I know who ratted us out,” Frankie stated. 

Jacob shook his head, “that is the stupidest thing you have ever said. I swear you’ve lost it since you started using.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

“Did you not hear yourself? You want her to purposely rat us out, for what? For us to lose everything?” 

Frankie pulled out a gun and aimed it at you, “So then should I just shoot her?” 

Your eyes widen, “What the fuck, Frankie!” Jacob exclaimed as he stood in front of you. You clung to Jacob’s arm, you could feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes. 

One of the guys from earlier came running in, “We got a problem.” 

Frankie sighed and put his gun back in his belt, “what?” 

“Enrique is here and I don’t think he wants to talk anymore.” 

Frankie looked at the man with anger in his eyes, “Stay here,” he told Jacob before walking out front. You pulled out your phone as soon as Frankie left. 

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked. 

“I-I was in over my head coming here,” You began as you looked for Tamara’s contact. 

Jacob rolled his eyes, “Calling your cop dad is just going to get me locked up,” He commented. 

“You wanted me to go, so now I’m calling my friend to get me the fuck out of here,” you stated. You heard a gunshot coming from outside, before you could even ask Jacob anything, he ran outside. You called Tamara, hoping she would pick up fast and that she wouldn’t say a word about this to Tim. 

“Y/N!” Tamara exclaimed. 

“Tamara,” you choked out, “I-I need your help.” 

Tamara face fell, “Where are you?” 

“I don’t know, we were at the old neighborhood and Frankie showed up and he-he’s on something and it looked like he wanted to show Jacob a-” Another gunshot rang outside, you jumped to the sound. You ran from your spot in the living room, you found a bathroom in the hallway. 

“What was that?” Tamara asked. 

You closed the door behind you, locking it before jumping inside the tub. “Please, help me.” 

“Okay, okay, stay on the phone. I’m gonna connect Lucy okay?” Tamara quickly added Lucy to the call. “Please pick up,” Tamara said to herself. 

“Tamara,” Lucy began, “you hear anything from Y/N?” 

“Lucy,” you said. 

“Y/N?” 

“Lucy, I added you to the call,” Tamara explained. 

Lucy quickly put the phone on speaker, Tim was quick to understand what was going on. 

“Y/N, Hon are you okay?” Tim asked. 

Just hearing his voice made you feel even more guilty, you felt the tears fall down your cheeks, “I’m sorry,” you choked out. 

“Y/N, honey, it’s okay, right now I need you to tell me if you’re okay, are you hurt in any way” Tim reassured. 

“N-No,” you stated. 

“Good, where are you?” 

“I-I don’t know. Some house in the old neighborhood.” 

“Y/N, do you think you can share your location with me?” Lucy suggested. 

You placed the phone on speaker as you went on your phone to share your location, “There,” you stated. 

“There it is,” Lucy said. 

“Let’s go,” Tim said as he placed the shop in drive. 

Another gunshot ranged through the air, “What was that?” Tamara asked. 

“That sounded like a gun,” Tim stated as he drove. 

You stayed on the phone with them until they had gotten there. You had hung up the phone once they arrived, You could hear the gunshots coming from outside, meaning that Lucy and Tim’s presence wasn’t welcomed. Sirens were coming from the distance, you felt a little at ease knowing that backup was coming. 

Still, you remained in the bathroom until it was safe. The shots subsided and you heard footsteps within the house. A few seconds later someone knocked on the door, “Y/N?” Tim called out. 

You quickly got up from your position in the bathtub and opened the door. Before Tim could even react, you had your arms wrapped around his torso, he let out a relieved sigh as he hugged you back. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. 

“It’s okay,” He said as he gently rubbed your back. “It’s alright, let’s just go home.” 

You agreed, following him outside. You looked around for Jacob, making eye contact with him as he sat inside one of the shops. Tim had noticed, he knew that you needed this closure with your past, “hey, roll down the window,” he told the officer who sat inside the shop. He did as he was told. 

Jacob stayed silent, “I guess this is goodbye,” you began to say. 

“Next time, stay out of this neighborhood,” he warned. You gave him a nod, “And if there is a next time, I probably won’t be as inviting.” 

Tim gestured for the cop to roll up the window, he knew you didn’t need to hear more. “There won’t be a next time,” you whispered as you walked away from the shop. 

“Y/n!” you heard Tamara call out. 

“Tamara!” You ran up to her, she engulfed you in a hug. “I’m sorry for everything I said.” 

“It’s the past now,” she said. “Let’s just forget about it,” she said as she let go of the hug. 

“Tamara is gonna take you home until my end of shit,” Tim stated. “We’ll talk then, alright?” 

You gave him a nod, following Tamara to her car. 

“If there is anything I learned today, it’s that the past is the past,” you said once you got in the car. “And you’re right, I’m not the same girl I was a year ago.” 

“We’re lucky,” Tamara began, “Not a lot of us get this opportunity in life and when we do, we do everything we can to not go back.” Tamara started the car. You knew that you wouldn’t come back to this life, but something within you was going to miss it. Miss the little moments of happiness that made you feel like you had a home, but now you had an actual home. It wasn’t the ideal home, but it was a home and you had someone who gave you a sense of family even if it wasn’t picture-perfect. 

[ador3sturniolo]

Stargirl

An - omg I feel like I haven’t posted in a year what. Okay so earlier this week I went to a hockey game, and something happened while I was there and I wanted to write a fic about it. And I wanted to do Nate because I love Nate, and we need more Nate fics out there asap. And the song has nothing to do with the fic, it was the song I kept playing while writing this ����

Paring - Nathan Doe X FemReader

Summary - You go to one of Nate’s hockey games

Warnings - Kissing, NOT PROOFREAD

Requested - Nope

ALSO YALL, I FIRST WROTE THIS IN THE BEGINNING OF OCTOBER SO THERE WILL BE HALLOWEEN THEMED THINGS HERE, SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPLOAD

I hadn’t realize how late I had slept in until I heard my alarm go off more than 30 times, most of which I had just sleep through. I check the time and see it’s a little past 3. Shit. I had so much to do and had it all planned out. I was to clean my house, get a gift for Nate, go grocery shopping, and decorate for fall. I’ll just eat some food while I’m out but right now, I need to clean up my place. I have u til 6:30 to get everything done on my list. Considering Nate’s game starts at 7.

I clean my house, lighting candles and turning on fairy lights I have setup around my house. I take a quick shower and put on my freshly clean clothes. I do a slick back bun, not trying to do anything fancy. I get into my car and make a quick stop at Starbucks to get a drink. I also did an online order for my favorite lunch place in town so it’s ready for pickup when I get there. I pickup my lunch and eat in my car as I drive to target. I put my Starbucks in the cup holder of my cart and push it too the food section.

I grab my list of food and start putting it in my cart. I decided to grab some cookie dough for me and Nate to back after his game. I go over to the floral section and grab a bag of white, blue, and purple pair and place it in my cart. I’m on my way towards check out when I spot the cutest pair of matching pj sets. There was a vampire, pumpkin, and ghost option. They were all so cute but I decided to get the ghost ones. I check out and go home to eat dinner and decorate.

I decided to make something, quick, easy, and delicious. I play my fall playlist as I grab my last year bin full of pumpkins, signs, pillows and blankets. It only takes me around 30 minutes considering I cleaned earlier. I looked at the time, with not much time left I had to get ready. I put the totes back and head to my room. I put on a pair of leggings and his hockey jersey that he gave me. I take out my hair and do two French braids. I take some face paint type makeup I have and write his number on my cheek.

I put on my shoes and grab his flowers and teddy I bought him earlier that week. I grab a blanket so I don’t get cold at the rink. I drive to the rink in only 10 minutes. I head inside and get a ticket. I’m greeted inside by the triplets. They all look over at me and walk my way.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for like 5 hours” Nick says rolling his eyes

“Nick, we got here 5 minutes ago-“ Matt chimed in

“Oh hush.” Nick says, crossing his arms, clearly annoyed.

“I’m so excited to watch my boyfriend play!” Chris says clapping his hands. Nick, Matt and I slowly turn towards Chris, giving him a confused look.

“Fine, I can’t wait to watch her boyfriend play” Chris says sarcastically but rolling his eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” I say pushing Chris a little bit jokingly. We all walk to the rink, getting a rush of cold air as the door opens. I could feel goosebumps approaching my skin. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and sit down with the triplets. We sat and waited for the game to start. It only took a couple scrolls on insta before the players came walking out of the locker room and onto the ice to warmups. It wasn’t hard for me to find him, considering I had his number imprinted into my brain. Before I the warmups ended, I went to the snack bar and got myself a water and chips for me and the triplets. I head back just in time for the game to start. We all stand up and start to cheer, like the rest of the crowd. I only had my eye on one player the whole time. Every time he scored a point and I would jump up and down and scream for him. The three looked at me like I was insane but I didn’t care.

The game was over and Nate’s team won! We all wait for Nate outside of the locker room to finish up, but before he comes out I need to use the restroom. I come back not too long and see the brothers talking to a man I wanted to hug the first I saw him on the ice. He noticed me and started walking towards me. I ran up to him and gave him a hug.

“You did great tonight, I’m so proud of you.” I say giving him a peck on the lips.

“And these are for you.” I handed him the flowers and teddy bear, he then looked up at me with a smile that would make my heart melt.

“Thank you so much baby.” He said as he went to the side of me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He turned back and waved to the brothers as he started to walk with me out of the building. I help him load his things into my car, and we get inside the car after.

“So I had a really fun night planned out for us, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay and we can do something else.”

“It’s whatever makes you happy my love” I couldn’t help but blush at his words.

“So, my house is all decorated and I had candles going so it smells really good in there, and the house is clean so a bonus! And I was thinking we could make cookies and watch a movie together? And there’s also a surprise with that.” I say almost out of my seat from how happy I was.

“If that’s what you wanna do.” He says smiling back at me.

“Of course it’s what I want to do, but I wanted to know if u wanted to do it.” I say turning on my car, pulling out of the parking lot.

“I’m okay with anything you want to do.” He says looking out the window. I smile as I continue to drive back to my place. I pull into my driveway and get out of my car.

“Let’s take showers first tho.” I say unlocking my front door. He nods as I unlock the door and walk in. We take off our shoes at the front and walk to my room where my shower is.

“I’ll go first, I’ll be quick.” I say as I start to take out my hair. I hop in the shower and wash my face, get out, and wrap myself in a towel. I walk out into my room and too my closet, telling him it’s his turn on my way. He gets off the small couch I have in my room and head into the bathroom. I quickly get dressed into the pajamas I just bought for us. I sit down at my vanity and start doing my night skincare. I hear the shower turn off and with Nate walking out with the towel around his waist. He points at the pair of clothes on my bed.

“What’s this?”

“It’s yours, to wear! Tonight! To match with me!” I say turning around, show I’m in the matching set. He gives me a sigh but walks with it into the bathroom to get changed. I do a little clap of achievement, as I turn back around to finish my skincare. I hear the bathroom door open and see him walk out, giving me a sigh and looking down in disappointment.

“Hey! You look amazing! Don’t give me that I hate this energy, it’s supposed to be fun!” I say putting all my things away and getting up.

“I feel so weird in this.” He says throwing his hands like a baby

“Why? You look so cute!” I say walking towards him.

“Can I just take the shirt off? It feels tight.” He says scratching his neck

“Not yet! I wanna take a picture” I say grabbing my phone out. His arm wraps around my waist as I put the mode to 0.5x and turn on the flash. We smoosh our heads together doing a kissy face as I take the picture. I look at the picture to make sure it was okay then I put my phone down.

“Okay, let go make some cookies” I say kissing his cheek and walking out of my room. He follows close behind me. I grab a pack a Pillsbury cookies from the fridge and preheat the oven.

“How about you put on 6, and I put on 6” I say grabbing a tray from my cabinet.

“Good with me” He says giving me a smile

“Can I take my shirt off now?” He says whining

“Fine, Stop acting like a baby” I say as I start to put on my cookies.

We both finish putting on our cookies and put them in the oven. I walk over to my couch and turn on the tv.

“What would you like to watch?” I say looking up at him.

“I don’t know, you pick.” He says sitting down next to me

“Mhm, Corpse Bride? The Nightmare Before Christmas?” I say leaning back and laying my head on his chest

“Corpse Bride, The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Christmas movie.”

“No it’s not!” I say as I scoff

“It is tho!”

I shake my head and get up to go take the cookies out. I put them on a plate and organize them in a cute way. I bring the plate to the couch along with a blanket.

“Hold the plate while I put the blanket on us.” I say handing him the plate. I sit down, covering our legs and a little bit of my waist. He sets the plate down on the blanket.

“Do you like tonight?” I say putting my head on him again.

“Of course” He says kissing my head. I smile in happiness that I was able to make tonight special.

“I love you” I say lifting my head up.

“I love you more” He says giving me a peck on my lips

—————————————————————

An - OML I AM SO SORRY ML FOR NOT POSTING FOR A MONTH. I KNOW THIS ONE IS BAD BUT I FELT LIKE I NEEDED TO POST SOMETHING OR I CANT FUNCTION RIGHT SO HERE IS THIS 🫶🏼

[totothewolff]

Grand Prix Elite Academy (2/10)

+18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!student, sewis, carlos x reader, collegue au | romance, smut, comedy, gossip, betray

Summary: Your life turns 180 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One College, designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the faculties, and try to win this year's Elite Cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes, all while befriending your eclectic classmates, join the wild parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Race to Greatness! Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fic set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program called WomenOne and have lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold. Becoming the outcast new girl is always challenging, especially when all of you live on one campus.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Chapter 2: Gone with the Wolff

The sun starts to ascent over Monaco's luxurious skyline in the early hours of the day, casting a golden glow over the buildings.

As you go through the security checkpoint at the campus gates, you feel an intoxicating mix of nerves and excitement brewing in you. Besides feeling like an alien, being the only one there arriving on foot as you watch the endless line of expensive sports cars and SUVs with chauffeurs drive past you and the parking gate.

Today marks the beginning of your journey at the Grand Prix Elite Academy, a heaven where speed and ambition merge.

—You got clearance, miss Y/LN —the muscular security man tells you; stepping out of the security booth, he has a cold and formal attitude and way of speaking. —They need you at the Student Affairs offices. It's on the first floor in the main building —he points towards the large facility down the entrance road. —You need to wear this at all times, no excuses, till your new ID and student badge are ready —he instructs you, handing you a metallic purple "visitor" access badge.

—Oh, thank you.

-

Stepping for the first time onto the campus grounds, you can't help but feel in awe by the magnificence surrounding you as you pay attention to all the details.

The buildings' architecture combines Monaco's classical style blend with modern facades full of massive glass walls facing the different gardens.

There are many lanes for pedestrians, bicycles, and electric scooters. Beautiful palm trees, flowers, and acres of perfectly maintained green grass complete the view.

The campus is full of energy and student life. People read and work on their computers and tablets in the different sitting areas, which are filled with picnic tables and expensive outdoor furniture. Others lie on the grass, chat in groups, or walk fast to somewhere. People get in and out of the buildings, and many line up in the Starbucks inside campus.

—Y/N! Carlos calls your name from a step on the main building's ample stairs, sitting beside Esteban. Judging by all the students sitting on them, the stairs look like a popular gathering spot.

You start walking on their way while Carlos rushes down to welcome you with a hug, his prince-charming hair flowing in the wind as he reaches you. You two became good friends after spending the Homecoming Gala dancing your asses off and partying with the rest of the group.

—Are you an early bird, too? —you ask him as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells sweet and floral.

—Not really! Mattia scheduled our faculty meeting in the auditorium at 7 a.m. That Italian is insane! I swear he is constantly testing our sanity, so if you pick "Motor Vehicle Engineering" as a subject, expect those kinds of tricks from him.

That explains why almost everyone on campus right now is wearing red. —How did it go? They didn't ask for my assistance, so I guess I can cross Ferrari off my list —you ask.

—The usual "Winning can't wait! Blah blah, we need to defeat Mercedes, blah blah, I'm not accepting B grades, no exceptions blah blah" sabes? Well, you don't, actually; you are new, haha —he answers, a bit bored.

You laugh at his faux Italian accent as he makes his best Mattia impression. —Very Mario Bros of you. —You joke with him while admiring his expensive-looking Ferrari uniform, a crisp red blazer perfectly tailored to accentuate his fit silhouette, with Ferrari's insignia delicately embroidered on the breast pocket.

Complementing his blazer is a classic white shirt crafted from the finest cotton. Carlos' trousers, also tailored from a deep grey fabric, are paired with Italian leather brogue shoes.

"Gosh, he is so handsome!" You think.

—Still no news, cierto? —he asks you, glancing you down. He notices you are wearing the grey faculty-less, GPEA rookie uniform, as most newbies are.

—No! —you pout. —Have you heard something? The red uniform sure looks beautiful.

—I could ask around; maybe Sebastian can give us info; he is in Student Affairs this year!

—Oh, great! I will ask him myself. I'm about to meet him there. I have to pick up my badge, sign lots of stuff, and get my dorm access.

—This is my number —Carlos bumps his phone with yours. —Text me when you learn who your roommate is! I will give you the receipts and tea.

—Oh! Thanks! Let's hope for the best!

-

As you make your way inside the main building to the administration floor, you admire the elegant blend of class and innovation.

The hallways hum with the chatter of fellow students, their gossip muffled by the occasional roar of a passing racing car on the nearby track, where free practices occur. That sound makes your blood rush.

-

Once you arrive at your destination, you knock on the glass doors, which is a bit dumb because they can see you before you step in.

The staff points you to a cubicle, where you find Sebastian Vettel sleeping in his office chair under an Aston Martin jacket. The room's air conditioning makes it feel like a freezer.

You pinch him on the ribs, teasing and waking him, making Seb jump, you little shit!

—Oh, you made it here! Hi! —his kind smile greets you.

—Hi, lazy ass! Ow, did I wake you? —you joke.

—Where is your sorority? We sisters must stand together. Seb gets on his feet and goes to find your badge inside a giant blue plastic container with tons of those. —I also need to take your biometrics, but you must read and sign these first. It's for the use of personal data, etc.

—Sure —you answer as he prints the papers and hands them to you.

—Take your time—he drops himself back on the chair and slides near you.—Did Lewis give you rookies the campus tour yet?

You deny shaking your head.

—Oh! That man! —Seb rubs his forehead, exasperated. —I love him, but he drives me crazy sometimes —Vettel picks up his radio and tries to reach him. —For sure, Carl is still at the gym instead of doing his job! I desperately need to hire him an assistant, he almost forgot his mom's birthday the other day. Thank God I bought her the present in advance! —Seb pushes the signal button once more, waiting for Lewis to pick it up, and he turns to whisper to you. —I heard the new trainer is fucking hot —Vettel raises his eyebrows up and down suggestively several times while grinning.

A couple of beeps come before he starts speaking. —You are still at the gym, aren't you?

Lewis's distorted voice comes through the radio. —Yes, I told you I'm trying this new workout for you, remember? Longer, more lifting required, less cardio. Our hardcore sessions are working wonderfully, my love. Didn't you tell me you love my muscles as much as you love my coc…

—Woa, woa, Y/N is here; she is listening! —Seb quickly interrupts him, and you start to laugh.

—Sorry about that —Seb tells you, a bit red.

—No worries! I feel a little jealous, tho. I wish I had someone; you guys seem very in love.

—You will soon! This place is full of hot and horny people and too many parties and alcohol. Oh! In my good ol' slut days, I used to hook up a lot and be given blowjobs under the benches at the racing circuit.

—I'm still here! —Lewis interrupts, quite amused.

—Lewis, please hurry! This place is enormous, and I have no idea where anything is! I need to pee! Where are the bathrooms?! —you talk to him on the radio before Seb takes your fingerprints.

-

Your orientation activities begin half an hour later.

Lewis shows up and gathers you rookies in the main lobby, where the collection of trophies and awards of the Academy are displayed in a fancy museum way, as he welcomes you and tells you about the campus and the glorious history of this institution.

You are not surprised to see only ten new students beside you. This place's tuition is so fucking expensive, and it's a niche business.

Soon, you discover that only some people want to become racing drivers; the rest want to be part of the motorsports world and teams. The GPEA curriculum is so vast that it covers everything from team management, aerodynamics, engineering, sports marketing, finances, and more.

Lewis takes you all on tour, on foot, where you dazzle at the display of facilities, from the incredibly modern library, full of study stations, desks, and immersive display computers, to the massive sports center, the place where future champions are getting in shape, it looks like the Olympics inside there; it's a state of the art huge physical training center with the newest and most tech pieces of equipment as well as an extensive swimming pool and a complete wellness center with an upscale spa, massages and sauna included.

Almost all classrooms have ocean views, luxurious and comfy seating, ample desks, and smart boards; everything looks pristine, trendy, and bright.

But the lab! Oh! The lab! It's a wet dream! It's full of the highest-tech simulators, which are to die for. It's the most immersive and authentic experience you've ever seen.

The cafeteria has become your second favorite place. It's the most fabulous room, full of culinary experiences and areas. It's enormous, with high-end restaurants, many to-go options, and several bars serving vegetarian food and healthy snacks.

There is even a juice therapy concept zone that looks interesting!

The nap pods, comfy puffs, slides, lounge areas, and lots of art installations make it an eclectic and chic place.

You also visit the race circuit, garages, and the Mechanics building, where you feel at home. This hallowed ground is where legends are born.

You stand amidst the sleek machines, their vibrant colors and flawless designs are testaments to the craftsmanship and skill that define the racing world.

In that moment, you sense a deep connection forming, a kinship with the machines that would become your companions on this exhilarating journey.

You wish Lewis would let you spend more time there, but he takes you to the dorm buildings, which are basically 5-star hotels.

Your "shared rooms" are bigger than your house. You would describe them as luxurious apartments for two.

The dorm buildings are next to "the social hub," a compound of several establishments (bars, restaurants, and a social club, obviously) located near the marina and harbor. Yatch culture is big there, too!

-

As Lewis wraps his speech once back in the main lobby, Horner reaches him, whispering something to his ear, patting his shoulder, and then walking towards you.

Your hands shake slightly as he politely lets you know Red Bull is not the faculty for you.

-

A bit bummed out, you take the elevator up to the last floor, where the main lecture hall is. It's the largest one, and it is reserved for subjects that students of different years and careers share.

It's your first class of the day, and you are in awe of the panoramic view that greets you as you step in. To your left is a sweeping vista of the sprawling race track at a distance, impeccably maintained and stretching toward the horizon. You observe it through the floor-to-ceiling clear crystal panel windows.

As you settle into your first lecture on "Electrical Engineering," conversations flow effortlessly, fueling your collective enthusiasm and igniting friendships as Professor Otmar delivers an exciting class.

Almost by the end of the class, your phone buzzes on your desk as you write memos on your iPad; Leandra texts you to meet them at the "Turn 17 Lounge" in the marina after classes.

-

Soon, you find yourself surrounded by laughter and the clinking of glasses inside the vibrant, contemporary lounge. It's packed since most students finished their schedules, and it's the first day back.

You sit in the pricey furniture beside your new friends near the chic bar area while enjoying the panoramic waterfront views.

The place's ambiance is lively and energetic. A trendy playlist sounds in the background as you are handed a menu with a range of innovative and Instagram-worthy cocktails and appetizers.

You look at them, shocked at the prices and amused at the pompous names, and resign yourself to ordering just a Coke with ice or a Coke on the rocks, according to the carte.

You find out the lounge hosts themed events, live music nights, and interactive experiences to cater to the preferences and desires of the student crowds.

—What up, babe?! —Leandra greets you. She is wearing her faculty activewear. Her gym shirt is crafted from breathable red fabric, showcasing sleek black accents, while the Scuderia Ferrari emblem is proudly displayed on her chest. Her gym shorts are designed for optimal movement and feature a mix of black and red detailing. —I don't feel my legs, not in the sense I would like!

You laugh at her comment.

—Pippa Gasly, Y/N —She introduces you two. A cute blue-eyed French girl waves her hand at you sitting across the coffee table; she is Yuki's girlfriend; you witnessed them devouring each other at the Gala. —The new coach is so fucking hot; the rumors are true, I stretched way too sluty for him during his training, and he stared me down. Should I give him a private tour of the dock area? —Leandra gossips you two.

—The dockyard has a very secluded lighthouse. It's the perfect spot to discreetly fuck or hook up with someone if you don't want the entire campus to find out —Pippa explains.

—I heard it was under the benches —you add.

—Not anymore. Security parol those now. Thank you, Lando!

—I'm proud of my legacy! —he and Max join you.

—I fucked a very loud girl in there and got caught by security —he admits to you, shrugging his shoulders. —Massi made me publicly apologize in the commencement speech that year. Can you believe it?! Far worse things have happened, and he didn't even bathe an eye then! But he made an example out of me. But, in the end, he knew he needed my parents' money and donations, so he stayed in his lane.

—Where the fuck is Charles?! —Max addresses Leandra, looking a bit concerned. —He is not answering my DMs.

—Still with his grandpa, he will arrive soon; all his things arrived at our dorm today.

—Talking about that, I have a roommate! —you notify the group, and all eyes set on you.

—WHO?! —everyone asks at the same time.

—It's a girl, thank God, her name is Naya Lauda.

Their eyebrows go to the roof. Lando's face is a poem.

You look at them, feeling now concerned. —What?! You guys, WHAT?!

—This is about to get awkward —Lando speaks while sipping his beer. —She is a persona non grata.

—Don't mention it to Lewis —Pippa advices you.

You look at Leandra with a "please explain!" face. —Naya is best friends with Nico Rosberg; he is the mean girl of this school, a total douch, and also Lewis' ex; those two were THE thing back in the day, the most popular and prodigy couple on campus, but in reality, they were highly toxic and harmful to each other —many nods come in response as she explains.

—All this before Lewis came to his senses! —Pippa adds.

—He changed a lot for the better once he started dating lovely Sebastian and split from those two —Leandra resumes explaining. —Naya took Nico's side on the divorce, annihilating his friendship with Lewis in the process.

Lando then interrupts to give you more input. —To Toto's displeasure, the whole thing fractured Mercedes' unstoppable all-star team! The three of them used to be inseparable and insufferable.

—Yeah, they only talked to each other and pushed away anyone who tried to get close or be friendly with them. Including old friends —Max joins the explanation.

—Talking of which… —Pippa adds.

—Oh yeah, I forgot about the Toto thing —Lando mentions.

—Naya is also Toto's protege; she is exceptionally talented, intelligent, and top of the class… —Max says.

—And fucking hot —Leandra admits.

—And..? —you instantly ask, sensing there is more.

The group exchanges a couple of looks.

—There was a rumor. Leandra brushes your arm. —But it's just a rumor; nothing has ever been proven.

—That Naya was the reason why the Wolffs split. Those two have a weird dynamic, to be honest —Pippa finishes. —She is a bit possessive of him, and seeing them by their side on and off campus is usual.

—They go everywhere together —Leandra bluntly corrects.

—Also, Max has been in love with Naya since childhood. He used to gift her bouquets after every karting race, always cheer for her at the benches, and even let her win while driving against each other, which in Max's language is a "Will you marry me?" —Lando declares, and Max huffs. —Don't pretend you don't!

—Fine! YES! I did, but that was in the past.

Oh boy.

-

After taking a relaxing bath and washing away all the nerves and stress of your first day, you get comfortable on the cozy sofa in your dorm's living room. On your way there, you grab a bag of chips and place your laptop on your legs. You are wearing the GPEA oversized T-shirt, tiny shorts, and your hair wrapped in a towel, thinking you are there alone.

—Filling up your schedule? Choosing your core classes? —you hear a velvet voice behind you, making you jump a little.

—Yes, any suggestions or tips? —Naya gets closer to peek at your screen. She is a gazelle, a very sexy and gorgeous girl who exudes confidence and grace in her every movement.

Her magnetic gray eyes capture, and her great posture commands attention effortlessly, while her impeccable style embodies sensuality and elegance, provoking an unforgettable impression on anyone who crosses her path.

You get why she got Toto's attention; you feel like a troll beside her. Until now, Naya seems kind and polite but not very social or talkative.

—"Aerodynamics I," "Thermodynamics I," and "Materials Science" are perfect for your entry-level. "Mechanics II" is quite advanced, are you sure? —Naya tells you, and you nod. —Your optional elective classes, "Data Science" and "Strategy and Leadership," are both hard to get into, especially Torger's!

—Wish me the best, then! —you say as you hit the submit button.

-

—How on earth did you get accepted into Toto's class?! —Sebs looks impressed as you two finish breakfast at the cafeteria while he reads your assigned schedule, giving it the heads up!

You feel slightly cocky and proud of the accomplishment.

Then Seb glances at his smartwatch. —Better be leaving, Y/N! You don't want to be a second late for it. Toto is extremely picky; he got Lance expelled from the subject for being two minutes late once. Forget about missing class or not delivering a report!

—Oh shit! —your eyes go wide as you grab your things and rush there.

-

You walk inside the luxurious lecture hall on time and out of breath; for sure, your hair looks like shit now.

For obvious reasons, you tried your best to put on a decent-looking outfit and even makeup, which you aren't a fan of, lol girl, as he will notice you, let's say you aren't the most stereotypically called "girlie girl," lacking the mom's touch and being raised among mechanics, not to mention that all beauty products are damn expensive.

This hall is entirely different from the one at the top of the building. It is smaller and intimate but way fancier, with opulence and functionality blending seamlessly.

The hall boasts plush, leather-upholstered seats with individual desks, offering maximum comfort to each student.

The walls are modern and sleek, and large screens display live feeds of races and analyses with cutting-edge audiovisual equipment and an advanced sound system that provides an immersive learning experience.

The spacious layout ensures an unobstructed view of the front podium, where Professor Toto is about to impart his class. He looks crazy hot in that white fitted rolled-up sleeve shirt and tight beige pants, which he is wearing while adjusting his earset microphone.

-

Toto starts his class by presenting a rather complex and compelling study case, grabbing the attention of the small group in just a couple of minutes.

—You must solve the problem, minimize the impact, and land the new course of action —he explains, walking around the room. —In real life, you would only have a couple of minutes to discuss with the entire team and command the driver to follow the needed change in strategy. There's no safety net. How would you solve it? Let's start with you, Mr. Rosberg.

You all give different input until a proper answer is formed, and then Toto moves to theory.

You try your best to concentrate and absorb the knowledge he is sharing and not get lost on his attractive backside, that back, those shoulders, and veins.

-

While you pick up your things as the class is dismissed, you catch his gaze set on you.

—Miss, Y/N —fuck, your name sounds hot in his mouth. —You are so tempting —your mind goes to another place while he bends in front of your seat, forearms on the wood surface, his muscular arms flexed, leaning closer to you over the desk. —You had the most impressive start! You can be an exciting addition to our faculty, but I need you to answer some questions first. Could you join me at the campus bistro on Thursday?

—Oh, y-yes —you barely answer.

—Good, see you there at 7 p.m —he smiles at you and exits.

WHAT?!!

-

Since your arrival at the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the excitement of the first days had begun to dull into the routine of classes, homework, and training sessions.

As you step in, the bistro buzzes with chatter and laughter, and the scent of freshly prepared meals fills the air. Amidst the chaos, you spot Toto sitting alone at a table.

He is wearing a navy blue blazer that perfectly hugs his lean frame and a crisp white shirt neatly tucked into matching slacks.

He gets on his feet to greet you as you reach the table and waits for you to sit; he is a total gentleman. He orders two glasses of sparkling water as he hands you the menu.

—Let's start with some appetizers, shall we? —he suggests, smiling. —There's a delicious caprese salad, and the fish cakes are to die for.

You inspect the menu, scanning the unfamiliar dishes listed. Most of them are exotic delicacies, some requiring ingredients sourced only from the farthest reaches of the globe. But that's part of the charm of attending such an exclusive institution: the exposure to cultures and experiences vastly different from yours.

—Caprese salad sounds perfect —you decide, handing the menu back to Toto. He nods approvingly and waves down a passing waiter.

—Two caprese salads, please —he instructs. —And bring us some bread, too. Oh, and a bottle of that Pinot Grigio, would you?

You study Toto closely as you wait for your food. He is commanding, yet his mannerisms hint at a softer side. When he speaks, his timbre is soothing, and his choice of words is deliberate.

He has something magnetic, a quality that draws people in, regardless of how guarded he initially appears. You listen to him intensely as he shares anecdotes about his racing career and the highs and lows he has encountered along the way.

His contagious laugh echoes in the dimly lit restaurant. It's almost disarming, making you forget the nervous tension that had built up inside you.

He glances at you occasionally, his eyes dancing with mischief. You can sometimes sense his interest, a silent invitation to reveal more about yourself.

Yet, you remain cautious, guarding your vulnerability under layers of carefully chosen words. In return, Toto offers tantalizing tidbits about his life and motivations.

—So, Y/N, tell me about yourself —Toto asks gently as the waiter places your dishes on the table. A fragrant medley of tomatoes, basil, and fresh mozzarella floats upwards, causing your stomach to rumble audibly.

Toto smiles knowingly, motioning for you to dig in. The juicy tomatoes burst with sweetness, harmoniously mingling with the creamy cheese. Each rich mouthful sends shivers down your spine like the flavors are awakening sensations long buried beneath your consciousness.

—Where did your love for racing originate? —Toto starts between bites.

—Well, it started when I was barely four years old. My father watches Grand Prix races religiously, and eventually, I joined him. We'd sit together on the couch, our hearts pounding in sync and in awe, as the drivers navigated tight bends and straights; that's when I fell in love with the sport, the thrill of watching them push their limits, the suspense of waiting for the checkered flag to wave.

—Sweet —Toto responds. —It's incredible how the love for racing can manifest itself in someone so young —He pauses, reaching for your glasses of wine and offering you a sip. You gladly accept, relishing the crisp taste of the pinot grigio as it slides smoothly down your throat. You could feel the warmth spreading through your body, melting away the nerves.

—Do you have a favorite driver? —Toto asks, swirling the contents of his glass thoughtfully.

—My favorite driver is Senna. I admire his raw talent and aggressive driving style. His determination to win is inspiring and captivating.

Toto raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. —Ah, Senna, quite a classic —he echoes, giving a knowing nod. —He's certainly an interesting character; he's got the guts and skill to make a lasting impression. His smooth driving style and natural grace make him stand out in a generation of aggressive competitors. You're a traditionalist, aren't you? You appreciate the artistry and elegance of the sport.

—Yes —you admit.

—Senna embodies the essence of racing, displaying a combination of raw talent and refined technique. He was an extraordinary driver —you add.

—A true gentleman on and off the track —Toto concludes.

Your conversation flows effortlessly, weaving in and out of topics ranging from the intricacies of car engineering to the nuances of team dynamics. Toto's insights and expertise are fascinating and provide valuable perspectives.

As you listen attentively, you notice the subtle change in Toto's demeanor; his posture becomes more relaxed. Yet, you can't shake off the feeling that Toto is deliberately testing you.

—So, Y/N, why suddendly quit? —he leans closer, truly curious. —Why stop such a promising career so suddenly?

—My mom's sickness and, after her passing, a lot of debt. I'm here on a scholarship. I'm not wealthy.

—I see. And were there no other options for you to be able to continue?

—Well, I don't know. I felt lost for a while; depressed is the word, so yeah, I stopped racing.

—I see. How has your experience at the Academy been thus far? —Toto switches topics; a twinkle in his eye suggests that he already knows the answer to his question.

—I must say, things here are pretty competitive —you admit, after a brief pause. —Everyone seems driven by ambition, constantly seeking to prove themselves. It's an environment that demands excellence.

Toto nods. —Indeed, the Academy is known for fostering a culture of competitiveness and exceptionalism.

—I feel overwhelmed by the pressure to perform and excel. It feels like everyone around me is doing everything possible to reach the top —you add, with a hint of concern creeping into your voice.

Toto leans back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. You can't help peeking at his biceps. —Well, that's precisely the nature of this place, Y/N. The environment is designed to challenge you in a way you don't think possible. After all, the ultimate goal here is to nurture champions. To achieve that, we need to create a breeding ground for fierce competition. It's crucial to foster resilience and adaptability in our students.

—I feel privileged to be here —you add honestly and smilingly.

Toto pauses to take a sip of his wine. —We all want you to succeed, but you must realize it takes a village to raise a champion.

—Yes, I agree —you reply, shifting in your seat. Despite Toto's reputation as a tough-as-nails professor, he exudes a calm demeanor.

—So, have you considered your goals for this term? —he asks you.

—I've been thinking about improving my handling of high-speed situations and refining my understanding of aerodynamics. I'd also like to enhance my ability to work effectively under pressure.

Toto's eyes widened. —Those are ambitious goals. We have some excellent resources at the Academy to help you achieve these objectives. I highly recommend you check out the advanced simulations. Not only does it teach you how to handle extreme speed, but it also gives you a safe space to experiment with your techniques.

—Thank you! Your advice means a lot to me.

—No problem, he replies. —Don't hesitate to ask if you ever need assistance. I believe in your potential, and I'm confident you'll achieve great things here at the Academy, but not with Mercedes; our faculty requires a different mindset to accept you.

—A different mindset?

—Yes, you don't have the mindset we are looking for. You gave up your dream too quickly. Quitting is not a trait at Mercedes; we believe there is always another option or way to achieve a goal. You appear to be drawn to a more traditional approach, and we are trying to innovate and push forward the sport. You struggle with pressure, and this is an environment full of it. Your starting point is behind the other rookies for the hiatus you experienced. If you don't perform well, there is also the high risk of losing your scholarship, and our investment in you goes nowhere —Toto answers, shifting his attitude from the charming "I'm your friend" facade to the version of him everyone told you about.

He was paying attention to your every word, wasn't he?

—You have a bright future ahead of you. I will be thrilled to witness your progress, Toto says, draining the last drops of wine from his glass and gently setting it down on the table. —Don't get me wrong; I wish you the best —he adds, feeling the conversation is over and preparing to leave.

Of course, this meeting was pure business; what were you expecting? Not to be judged and scrutinized? To make a friend?

—Losing a parent is not easy —you add, getting on your nerves at the lack of empathy.

—It's also not an excuse. In this career, you will face many adversities and problems. You are not the first or last driver to lose a family member. You are still spineless and lack emotional intelligence.

—You don't know me.

—You aren't that difficult to read. Just a simple and honest conversation like this is getting under your skin. I'm hardly ever wrong.

—I have proven wrong your kind before.

—My kind?

—Judgmental and entitled rich men with big opinions.

-

—Holy shit! You didn't call Toto THAT! —Leandra almost spits her orange juice the following morning as you two settle down on the grass beside Carlos. You lean on his shoulder while he gives you soft pats on your back, comforting you. —Bitch, you play no games, huh?

You shrug, a bit sad. That introduction with Toto went sour.

—Sharl is here! —Carlos says, looking to your left.

You see Leclerc jogging towards you.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; let me know! Merry Christmas, Wolffies!

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[beautifulfuckup99]

Girlllllllll I just love yooouuuu

Can we get a Yoongi smut where he is older than the reader and that makes him protective, possessive yet obsessed boyfriend.

i cant get enough of this man 🥵🥵🥵

Yes, ma'am!

Title: Bored.

Warning(s): Age-Gap Relationship, Dom!Yoongi, Sugar Zaddy!Suga (lol), Daddy K!nk, Age-P!ay (Nothing too weird lol)

Author's Note: Age gap is gonna be 10 years, and this is a ;Non-Idol!AU', But it IS a 'Rich!bfYoongi' fic. So enjoy!

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

Knock Knock

Yoongi sighs deeply as he looks up from the huge amount of paperwork that he needed to go through before Monday's big meeting. "Yeah?" He calls out and the door opens slowly to reveal his beautiful girlfriend of about a year and a half now. He pauses and leans back in his chair as he eyes his college-aged sweetheart. "Y/N Y/L/N. To what do I owe this visit?" He teases a bit and Y/N smiles shyly.

"Hi, baby!" Y/N sings as she bounces into the room wearing the blue, thinned-strapped, sundress Yoongi had gotten shipped out from Italy for their one-month anniversary. Yoongi lets his eyes wonder her outfit and hair that clearly had just gotten done up.

Looking at Yoongi and Y/N, you'd think this was a simple "sugar baby" situation, but the two were actually extremely content in their relationship. And they had met in probably one of the most random ways ever.

They had the same coffee order.

Yoongi loved to go back on the memory because it was just so random, yet Y/N swore it was something you only read about in a fucking Nicolas Sparks' book.

Story was simple: Yoongi had recently gotten in touch with a client who wanted to meet at the new Starbucks that had opened up a few blocks from some random college campus, the same campus Y/N was attending. Yoongi, being head of the company, knew that they couldn't lose this deal, so he went early to snatch a table and order the coffees for him and the man he was meeting with. The girl in front of him in the line smelled of vanilla, and she was wearing the sexiest outfit Yoongi had ever seen. She caught his eye the second he walked in.

Now, pause.

Because Y/N always laughs when Yoongi makes that part of the story known when telling it to strangers that ask. Mostly because the "sexy" outfit Yoongi spoke so highly of was just a pair of black sweatpants and a dark blue tank top. She'd rolled out of bed and dragged her half-asleep self down to the coffee shop for a wakeup call in a cup. But according to Yoongi, Y/N just wore those sweats and that tank top in such a... "Confident way".

So anyway.

As Yoongi was on the phone with the client he'd be meeting with, he hears the name of the coffee he'd ordered. Only, both he and Y/N walked over to grab the drink at the same time. That is when they actually noticed each other.

Y/N had giggled bashfully and put her hand down, giving Yoongi a shy apology since she hadn't checked the name before going for the cup, but Yoongi only smiled at the girl standing in front of him, assuring her that the coffee was all hers. He knew right then and there; he loved the back and front of this girl. Which doesn't usually happen...

Yoongi introduced himself, and Y/N did the same before walking off to a corner of the coffee shop after assuring again that she could wait for her order. The fact that she'd seen the Rolex, seen the suit, seen the all black American Express card he'd pulled out to offer to pay for a bakery item for her, and she still politely declined and walked away? That held Yoongi's attention more than any girl had in years. After a while of waiting at the counter, a worker put down another cup of coffee and Yoongi noticed the name on it.

This was her order...

That's when he got the idea...

After making sure no one was watching, he grabbed a pen from his suit pocket, and wrote down a small message along with his number before putting it back on the countertop casually. Just as he'd hoped, another worker came by, saw the cup and called out the name of the person to come and take their coffee. He saw Y/N walk over and grab her cup as his client walked in, walking over to greet him.

He noticed from over the man's shoulder how Y/N moved the cup around to look at all of the Christmas designs on it before choking on her sip. She looked around the coffee shop and Yoongi tried to stiffen his laughter as her eyes went to each and every person in the room before they locked with his.

'You?' He remembers Y/N mouthing to him, and Yoongi gave a smirk before turning all attention back to his meeting. The two talked through phone calls and text messages after that, and when Y/N was on Christmas break from college, Yoongi surprised her with tickets to Paris. While out there for those two weeks, Y/N and Yoongi made love every night. When they weren't doing that, he was taking Y/N shopping, always loving her in clothes he'd bought her. Made him feel better about ripping them off later.

"I missed you today..." Y/N says shyly and Yoongi smirks knowingly.

At the beginning of their time together, Yoongi had learned something about Y/N that really turned him on. Y/N was into something that not a lot of people would understand, but Yoongi definitely tried to. See, Y/N was into a sort of age play kink. It didn't go too far, but basically, she loved to be taken care of. She even called Yoongi 'Daddy' out of the bedroom at times because to her, Yoongi was the dominate one in their relationship. And Yoongi wouldn't have it any other way...

Yoongi had done research and realized that people like Y/N actually existed. Now, as stated before, Y/N wasn't too hardcore with the kink. She didn't wear adult diapers or crawl around on the floor, or wear onesie pajamas. She did, however, own a one-piece pajama with Yoongi, but that was a different story. Y/N just seemed to submit very easily to Yoongi though.

"Did you really miss me, baby?" Yoongi asks softly as he watches his girlfriend change her balance from one foot to the other.

"Are you busy?" Y/N asks gently, not really answering Yoongi's question. He takes note of that...

"Depends. What do you want, baby girl?" Yoongi asks as he takes off his reading glasses and rubs his eyes before putting them back on. A blush forms on Y/N's cheeks from the nickname.

"I finished classes earlier today because of some weather alert. I'm all bored..." Y/N says with a sigh as she sits down on the chair that was set on the other side of Yoongi's desk in his home office. Yoongi looks out the floor-to-ceiling window and pauses when he's met with the sight of a grey sky and heavy rain. How long had he been on autopilot?

"Huh. Will you look at that..." He mutters to himself, and Y/N rolls her eyes at his dad behavior. "Well, did you do all of your assignments?" Yoongi asks as he picks up a piece of paper to start reading from again. Y/N eyes her "old man" for a boyfriend with humor in her eyes.

"Yes, daddy." Y/N mutters but pauses when Yoongi doesn't look up at the nickname. It makes her feel slightly sad that he wasn't giving her attention.

"Well, then, make yourself at home, baby. Go watch some TV." Yoongi suggests and Y/N stiffens a groan.

"I don't think there's anything on right now, daddy." Y/N states certainly, causing Yoongi to finally look up at her from the piece of paper in his hands. He sighs and puts the paper down on the desk along with his reading glasses.

"So, you're bored..." Yoongi begins, as if trying to help Y/N out with her problem. Y/N nods her head quickly. "And what do you want me to do about that, baby?" Yoongi asks as he leans back in his chair again.

"Mm..." Y/N hums as she thinks about it. "Let's go on an adventure!" She finally says, tone full of excitement.

Yoongi chuckles at his little fireball, always wanting to travel to different places, see different things. "I can't right now. We're going somewhere Monday baby, after my meeting, remember?" He asks casually.

"Yeah..." Y/N sighs in disappointment. "But... Can't we just go today?" She asks, hope laced in her voice.

Yoongi had promised Y/N a trip to Brazil for her spring break, but then he had to call an important meeting for Monday to discuss some "important business thing", Y/N wasn't really listening when Yoongi was telling her about it...

"No, Y/N. I have to attend this meeting. I don't want to hear any more about it, or we won't go, ok?" Yoongi warns, already stressed with trying to figure out this month's company budget.

"But daddy, I-" Yoongi cuts Y/N off.

"What did I just say?" He asks in a stronger tone, getting annoyed that Y/N wanted to bother him about some trip, but even more annoyed about all of this paperwork showing up on his desk first thing this morning because of his idiot of a secretary who forgot to give it to him last week. Yoongi was just stressed out, and Y/N was not helping.

Y/N sets her jaw tight, knowing not to argue back, but Yoongi was acting so dismissive, and she'd been dealing with a lot too. Finals, big projects, constant studying and she was beginning to feel burned out. "Whatever. Maybe Adam isn't as busy..." Y/N finally mutters as she stands up. This catches Yoongi's attention.

"Who?" He asks. It's not that he had misheard her, he was just giving her a chance to get out of what she just said. Adam was Y/N's ex-boyfriend, but still a 'good friend' of hers, according to what she'd told Yoongi. They'd still hang out whenever Yoongi was too busy for Y/N, much to his dismay.

"I said... Maybe Adam isn't busy. Since it's clear you want me to leave you alone." Y/N says with a bit of an attitude, her eyes looking Yoongi up and down.

"Y/N." Yoongi warns, unamused by her bratty behavior. "You can stay right here." He says.

"Oh? And watch you stare at a piece of paper? I wanna go out!" Y/N huffs as she stomps her foot instinctively.

Yoongi stares at the 22-year-old girl in front of him, stomping her foot due to not getting what she wants. "Are... You have to be fucking with me. You are acting like the most spoiled brat I have ever met!" He growls.

"Please. Like it isn't your fault." Y/N mutters, arms crossed.

"What was that?" Yoongi asks. In a way, Y/N wasn't lying. Yoongi spent their whole first few months together spoiling Y/N. Taking her to different places, buying her only the best, introducing her to different important people. And Y/N would, obviously, throw a fit whenever he'd do these grand gestures for her, or her friends, or even her family a few times, but Yoongi always ignored her rants on how she didn't need that new diamond necklace, or that nice looking car, or that custom made gown for a high-end dinner date.

"I said... It's your fault." Y/N repeats, staring at Yoongi in a challenging way, making him sit back in his chair, eyeing her in the same manner.

"Listen to me, Y/N. And listen closely. You are going to sit your ass down in that seat, and if I hear one more word out of you..." Yoongi trails off in a threatening tone, making Y/N roll her eyes and sit back in her seat with a soft huff.

And it's finally silent.

Y/N stares at her hands in her lap as she replays Yoongi's words over and over again in her head. And who the hell was he to challenge her!? It was her mouth! Her voice! She didn't need to listen to that grouchy old man. A sly smirk comes on to her face at that thought. Yeah. He was a cranky, old, boring man. What would he do? Excitement rushed through Y/N's body at the thought.

"One. More. Word." Y/N finally says slowly, and Yoongi is quick to throw the packet that was in his hand down on to the desk with a glare.

"You think you're so funny, don't you." Yoongi says as he pushes his chair back from the desk. "Over my knee now." He orders, and Y/N smiles brightly.

"Finally! Something to do!" She taunts as she makes her way over to Yoongi, who looks about ready to lose it at this point.

"Something to do, huh?" Yoongi mutters as he reaches out when Y/N is close enough and grabs her arm, yanking her to bend over his lap. Y/N takes note of the nice-looking black slacks Yoongi was wearing with a red wine-colored polo shirt tucked in. His black hair was slicked back, and he just smelled of power and success. Actually, that was Boy Chanel, but still...

"You think getting me all worked up like this is 'something to do'?" Yoongi growls before flipping up her dress and firmly rubbing her ass, feeling the flimsy lace under his palm. Y/N pants softly at the feeling, bracing herself when his hand slips away only to come right back down, slapping just under Y/N's left butt cheek, making her whimper softly. Yoongi rubs that spot he just slapped before doing it again on the other ass cheek, harder this time.

"Oh! D-Daddy..." Y/N whimpers a bit louder, as if trying to draw out some pity from her boyfriend.

"Oh no you don't..." Yoongi smirks. "Don't try and act all innocent now." He says tauntingly, and Y/N can feel herself soaking through her pair of red lacy boy shorts at the tone of voice her daddy was using with her.

Yoongi smacks Y/N's thighs a few more times before hitching the sundress up a little more to look at her ass, groaning at the sight of her underwear snuggled between her plump ass. "Fuck, I'm gonna make your ass the same color as those pretty little undies, baby girl..." Yoongi whispers as he lifts his hand again, but this time, he waits for a response from Y/N.

"Daddy... Daddy... Please." Y/N whins as a response, and that does it for Yoongi. Y/N yelps, and her body basically jerks from how hard the smack to her ass is.

"Beg for more." Yoongi orders, and Y/N moans more at the thought of begging for pain.

"M-More... Please, daddy. More! Give me more! I-I swear I'll be your good girl again..." Y/N pleads, moaning when another slap is delivered to her plump ass cheek. "Oh god, daddy..." Y/N gasps.

"What do you want, baby girl?" Yoongi whispers, wanting to hear his slut of a girlfriend say the words.

"Daddy..." She tries, shyly, but Yoongi knows it's all a show. When Y/N is horny, there's no room for shyness. "Oh, daddy. P-Please make me feel good. It aches." She pouts, and Yoongi smirks.

"Stand up, baby. Bend over my desk." Yoongi says, and Y/N is quick to follow orders. "Now." Yoongi begins when Y/N is bent over his desk, shaking eagerly. He stands up and moves behind her to grip her hips hard. "What do you say to daddy for acting like a brat?" He whispers as he presses against her crutch.

She moans at the pressure on her clit, knowing better than to move her hips though. "I-I'm sorry, daddy..." Y/N pants, the side of her face pressed against the cold wooden desk.

"Sorry for what, baby girl?" Yoongi asks as he lets his hands run up and down the sides of Y/N's body. Staying still against her, and it was torture for him too. Mostly because he could feel her juices leaking through her thin underwear and wetting his pants too.

"I-I'm sorry for being such a bad girl, daddy." Y/N whispers as she moves ever so slightly so the apparent bulge is harder against her clit, making Yoongi smack her ass again. The sting felt so good...

"Keep going." Yoongi orders as he pulls back to really spread her legs and see how wet she really was.

"Daddy..." Y/N says, as if embarrassed. Yoongi swats at her clit through her underwear and it makes her bundle of nerves throb harder. "Oh god! Daddy! I-I'm sorry! I-I'm... I acted like a... A spoiled brat." She whines.

"Mm... That's more like it. There's daddy's little girl." Yoongi teases before reaching a hand down to his secret drawer where he usually kept a few toys just in case he and Y/N ended up having a little bit of fun in his home office. He pulls out some black underwear and then tosses them in front of Y/N, on the desk.

"Take off those boy shorts, and sit on my desk, legs spread." Yoongi instructs, and Y/N was quick to follow orders. With her legs spread, and pussy on full display as she leans back on his desk, Y/N waits for Yoongi to do... Something. Anything. Feeling her desperation, Yoongi moves Y/N's legs, so her feet are planted on the desk, her knees bent, and legs spread wider.

"Mm..." Yoongi smirks, stepping back to admire his girl fully. "See what happens when you shut the hell up? You make daddy happy." Yoongi taunts as he reaches out and lazily rubs Y/N's throbbing clit with two fingers. "Always so wet for me." He mumbles to himself, making Y/N shiver softly. He then leans down, softly licking at her clit, tonguing it like a cat drinks milk.

"Mm... God... Daddy!" Y/N moans, trying to keep her hips down since Yoongi trained her better than that. She wanted to make him proud. Yoongi slowly slides his tongue into Y/N's pussy, loving the way her hole clenched around it as if trying to make it stay. He begins moving his tongue in and out slowly.

"Daddy, please!" Y/N whines and Yoongi can only smirk. What happened to his little brat? Melted away he actually showed her attention. She was just too adorable to ever stay mad at...

Moving his tongue faster, Yoongi also adds two of his fingers to rub at Y/N's clit. Y/N throws her head back as moans spill from her lips effortlessly, uncontrollably. She never had to fake it with this man. He knew her body like it was his. It was his. Yoongi can't help but chuckle at the desperate moans of his lover, and the vibrations of said chuckle shoot through Y/N like a firework.

"Fuck! Daddy! Oh, daddy! Please... Please! I'm so... So close, daddy!" Y/N pleads, and when he feels her body begin to tremble, Yoongi pulls away, making the girl sprawled out on the desk gasp. "Daddy!" Y/N shouts in anger. Yoongi growls slightly, grabbing Y/N by the back of her head and yanking her hair so she was forced to look up at the ceiling.

"Wanna try that again?" Yoongi whispers against Y/N's neck, and Y/N moans before shaking her head as much as she can with him still gripping her hair.

"I... I'm... S-Sorry, daddy." Y/N stumbles over her words as she speaks, and Yoongi wants to laugh at how easily she submits.

"Here." He says, handing the pair of underwear to Y/N who bites back a whine of frustration. She gets off the desk to put on the new underwear. "Now, sit." Yoongi continues, motioning to the chair on the other side of the desk where she'd once sat. Y/N huffs under her breath and walks over to the chair. As soon as she sits down, Yoongi grabs the remote that went with the underwear and presses the green button.

Y/N gasps and shoots up from the seat as her underwear begins to vibrate. "Oh no you don't. You will sit there, and every time you're close to cumming, you will tell me." Yoongi orders. As Y/N trembles where she stands. Her clit was already sensitive, and having a vibrator pressed against it wasn't helping much. Well, actually, it was dulling the ache a bit.

"A-And... I-If I don't?" Y/N asks breathlessly as she slowly sits back down.

"If I see you cum, your punishment will be more than just a few smacks. Do I make myself clear?" Yoongi asks, and Y/N quickly nods. "Good girl." He says as he fixes his hair and wipes the sides of his mouth before sitting back down at his desk, putting his glasses back on as well.

"For... H-How long?" Y/N whimpers out as she begins to move her hips with the vibration before catching herself. With a deep gulp she gives in to making her daddy proud. "D-Daddy... I-I'm close..." She shivers. Yoongi presses the red button on the remote and calmly takes this time to answer Y/N's question.

"For however long it'll take me to read all this goddamn paperwork." He states. "You may moan..." He says, making Y/N blush at him giving her permission to do a basic reaction. "It'll help make this whole thing more... Interesting for me. But you may not cum... That's for later." He continues before pressing the green button to turn it back on, making Y/N melt back in her seat.

"There are different levels on this thing. I think I should start you off on a... 5. What do you think?" Yoongi teases, and Y/N gasps, grabbing onto the arms of the chair as stronger vibrations rage against her throbbing clit.

"Oh! And tell me something baby girl..." Yoongi begins as he grabs the packet he'd been trying to read earlier.

"Mm..." Is all Y/N can master in reponse.

"Are you still bored?" Yoongi asks as Y/N throws her head back, a loud moan leaving her parted lips, making Yoongi lean back in his chair. "Guess not..." He chuckles to himself before going right back to reading.

[magnifythesun]

Someone should write a cute short fic or drabble about Ianthony helping Erin get the car back ... ;);)

Ian and Anthony going with Erin to get her car is one of my favorite Smosh things that's happened recently! Love this prompt heehee! I don't remember if we know why Erin's car was in custody, and I'm not gonna look it up, here we go!

---

Erin paced furiously up and down the hallway, fingers flying on her phone. Tommy ducked out of the crying bathroom, giving her a nervous glance as he left. She seriously considered taking her own turn in the crying bathroom but didn't quite make it before another text came in from her mom.

"Where... is your car exactly..."

Not the ellipses! Erin couldn't handle this right now.

"The police station mom!! 😭" She sent the first text frantically, then continued, "They were cleaning the streets and they towed it!!! I didn't see any signs with warnings or anything!!!!"

"Well you're going to have to go get it..." Her mom replied.

"yesss, but how? It's like five miles away! In LA!!! I can't just walk over there! It would take a million years and I'd get hit by a car😭😭😭"

"Can one of your coworkers drive you there? ❤️"

Erin thought about it. Most everyone had a car, and it's not like she was new anymore, but it still felt a little presumptuous to ask anyone. The police station was 5 miles away and Google Maps was estimating nearly an hour-long drive due to traffic.

"I don't know, maybe. It's a lot to ask... long drive..." Erin texted back, throwing her mom her own set of ellipses. Payback.

"Ask around, honey, and it'll all be okay. Bring some money though, they're going to charge you to pick it up."

"😭😭😭😭" Erin responded, then put her phone screen to sleep. She rubbed a hand over her face wearily as she walked out of the hall back toward civilization.

"Everything okay?"

Erin abruptly stopped so she wouldn't run right into Ian.

"Oh god, didn't see you there!" She stepped back and looked up at him. Ian's eyes were betraying his concern even as his face maintained his regular placid expression. Erin wondered how close to tears she looked.

Ian raised his eyebrows.

"I'm all good," Erin assured him, "But, well, I'm just worried about my car."

More visible concern formed on Ian's face. "What happened to it?"

"It got towed cause they were cleaning the street," Erin sighed. "I've got to run," She continued, already starting to walk away from him, "Gotta ask around to see if anyone could drive me the five miles over there."

"Oh, alright, uh, good luck!" Ian called after her.

~~~

A few minutes later, Erin was still hand-wringing over who to ask first when she found herself cornered in the kitchen. Anthony was leaning on the counter in front of her while Ian hovered off to the side.

"I hear you've got a car emergency?" Anthony said, sympathetic smile on his face.

Erin blinked at him. "Uh, yeah?"

Anthony looked over at Ian. "How far did you say it was?"

"Five miles," Ian said lightly.

"Oh, only five miles," Anthony nodded his head. "Well," He looked back at Erin and waved a thumb between himself and Ian. "We'll take you there."

Erin gripped the counter behind her slightly, surprise and hope warring in her chest. "For real? It's like an hour drive."

"In LA at this hour? Yeah, I figured," Anthony gave her a reassuring grin. "It'll be fun!"

"An adventure!" Ian chimed in, "We can grab a Starbucks and everything."

Erin let out a relieved laugh. "That sounds amazing. Thanks guys!"

"Don't thank us yet," Ian said warningly, "I'm assuming you've never seen Anthony drive."

"Hey!" Anthony reached over and shoved him out of the kitchen, Ian obviously letting the push carry him further than necessary. Anthony looked back at Erin. "Don't listen to him, I'm a fantastic driver. C'mon, let's go!"

~~~

Erin stumbled out of the car, clutching her coffee. Let's just say, if she hadn't gotten used to her mother's wild driving as a child, she'd be a lot more traumatized right now.

"See, safe and sound!" Anthony declared, shutting his door.

"Makes you grateful you're about to get your own car back, huh?" Ian muttered to her as he passed, heading toward the door of the police station, matcha latte in hand. Erin stifled her giggle.

What followed was a boring string of bureaucracy, unimpressed expressions from the receptionists, and a fee larger than she'd hoped, but she'd finally succeeded in getting her car back.

Right as she was waiting for the clerk to approve the last of the paperwork, she snapped a surreptitious pic of Ian and Anthony. They were both leaning against a counter, looking down at their phones, so nonchalant in their willingness to be there for her. A bubbling feeling of warmth bounced around her chest. She couldn't imagine her bosses from any previous job caring enough to help her out with this.

Grinning at her phone, she typed out the caption: "& Ty to my smosh dads for helping me get my car back from the police <3"

She reached her phone out toward them from where she was sitting. "All good if I post this?"

They both looked over. Ian barked out a laugh while Anthony started grinning. "Go for it," Anthony waved a hand expansively while Ian gave a thumbs up.

Erin hit post right as the clerk called out her name.

The three of them walked back out into the warm LA afternoon.

"See you back at Smosh!" Ian called over, "If we make it back in one piece."

"You're a big baby." Anthony grumbled, though he was clearly laughing as he waved a goodbye to Erin.

"See you guys there!" Erin waved back as she got into her own car. She placed her hands on the steering wheel firmly and reveled in having her own car back. "What a relief," She sighed. Starting the car, she grabbed her phone as she let the air conditioning get started.

She had a single text message, from her dad.

"Oh, so one dad isn't good enough for you anymore? 😢 Haha, glad you got your car back honey."

Erin grinned, put the phone down and started the long drive back to Smosh.

---

Post-writing note: sorry to anthony and erin's mother in particular, I'm sure you're both great drivers irl lolol! Also in the course of writing this I found the real reason her car was impounded but im not changing it in the fic lmao. AU!Erin's car impoundment

[farfromstrange]

Matilda | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You left your past behind to start a new life, but the road continues to be rocky even years after getting out of your hometown.

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, talk about childhood trauma, emotionally absent father, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), crying, not proof-read

Word Count: 2k

A/n: Since I saw this song live for the third time ever and I cried my eyes out because lately, I relate a little too much to this song, I thought I'd use my interpretation of it to channel some emotions. You don't have to read it, do with it as you will, but I think some of you might see yourself in this little fic too and it might help you too, maybe even give you some hope for the future. If you get the chance and haven't already, give that beautiful song a listen!

You’re happy. Two words you never thought you would use in the same sentence or context, but it’s true; You are happy. You’ve abandoned the small town you were born and moved to New York City. You have a well-paying job, one that you’re happy with. You’ve pursued your dreams, the dreams so many people have tried telling you not to pursue. You have managed to move out and on and start a life that’s made for you, not the people around you. You’re living for yourself, finally. And then there’s him, Matt Murdock, the man of your dreams. You’ve been dating for two years and although you’ve had your ups and down, you have never been more in love. He’s taught you that you don’t have to please everyone and that your life belongs to you, no one can tell you otherwise. He’s taught you what safety and stability can look like, and he’s taught you how it feels like to be loved and to love someone as unconditionally as you love him. He’s helped you find yourself and you are forever grateful for that. 

When you came to New York, you were broken and looking for an escape. You struggled to get back on your feet after falling out with your family, with your father especially, and you just wanted to forget that your life before ever existed. You truly believed you were broken beyond repair. Most of your relationships in the past had failed and you came to realize that the problem was your choice of men. You didn’t know how to trust someone else, you either got too attached or too afraid of commitment, and that fear carried into all parts of your life to the point you considered crawling back home on your knees and begging for forgiveness for something you didn’t even do. The wounds from your childhood were deep, and you weren’t sure how to heal something that ended up having such a huge impact on you. 

But then Matt came into your life. One day, you were having coffee at your local Starbucks when he walked in. He bumped into you, hitting you with his cane. You remember apologizing profusely, but he told you, “You’re good, it’s not your fault.” He bought you another coffee to replace the one you spilled and you’ve been inseparable since then. 

When he first learned about your family history, he wasn’t surprised. Your tendency to apologize for everything, your fear of loud voices, and the fear of failure that you displayed whenever things weren’t going your way told him everything he needed to know. Although when you told him how deep your wounds truly run, he could only wrap his arms around you and promise you that you were going to be okay. And he was right. 

You got better. You learned how to deal with your past. You’ve got yourself a man who loves you unconditionally and he has been nothing but supportive since. You’ve built a new life for yourself and you’re still growing. Things are going well. It’s the kind of optimism you never fathomed possibly as a child. 

Back then, you lived to please your father and to support your mother after he left, and when he started a new family, blaming yourself for not being good enough became the standard. You grew up thinking everything that went wrong was your fault and that if you had just done better, he wouldn’t have left and started a new family. A family he still treats better than he ever treated you, and while your mom moved on, you grew up trying to fix everything and everyone around you but yourself, and it broke you. That was ultimately the reason why you chose to leave, and you forced yourself not to look back. You don’t want to be the same broken little girl anymore. You’re a grown woman now and your new life offers something your past lacked - love. 

Though when your father called the other day and asked you to join them for family dinner while he is in town, your past turned around to bite you in the ass. 

The door finally falls shut behind you, shielding you from the outside world. The entire evening was spent being forced to watch how much better your father and his new family are doing and it has broken something inside of you that you had spent years trying to fix. You played along, confrontation not being your strong suit, but you had never wished to leave a table so soon. 

Matt looks up from his spot on the couch, one headphone in his ear as he is towered over several case files. You don’t want to bother him while he’s working, but there is nothing you coil slip past him, especially not when you’re already close to tears. He’s told you before, “If something’s wrong or you’re not feeling well, I want you to tell me, no matter what time of day it is or how busy I am. You can talk to me.” You’ve often felt like a burden before, considering he had to teach you so many things you missed as a child, but learning how to ask for help or simply seek comfort without feeling guilty has by far been your greatest challenge that persists up to this day. 

When he hears the change in your breathing and your racing heartbeat, he slowly gets up. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly. 

It’s not the kind of question that should hit you as hard, but it does. And when he opens his mouth to ask again, “Are you okay?” It is game over. 

The first tear slides down your cheek as you press yourself against the door, your eyes directed toward the ceiling. You try to blink away the tsunami that is about to hit, but the sobs are already standing close by, waiting for their moment to shine. 

You hate that, after all this time, your father still has the same power over you, and that you still don’t know better than to let his behavior and his words cut way too close to home. You let his ignorant self break your heart time and time again because even now, the hope that he will find something worth putting effort into you and rekindle your relationship is still a dying flame inside your withering soul. It’s a flower that never truly dies, and it hurts you time and time again. Matt knows that. He hates that you do, but there is nothing that he understands more than craving the attention and love of the parent that has failed to do so before. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice is suddenly so close and when you glance to your left, he is standing there, his arms wide open. 

You shake your head. It’s too much. What you need, you can’t have. 

“Come here,” he says. 

You don’t want to, but at the same time, you do. Your feet carry you over, your body doing the talking your mouth fails to do. The way your shoulders slack tell him parts of the story. 

You fall into his arms, your tears flowing freely now. They stain his dress shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He holds you close to him, rubbing your back, and your sobs vibrate off his shoulder. 

“I hate him,” you manage to choke out. 

He nods. “I know.”

“I fucking hate him!"

“I know, sweetheart. Let it out. You can let it go.”

And so you do. He is your haven, your sanctuary, and you are too tired to fight. 

You remember learning how to ride your bike as a child and accidentally hurting your knee. Like any other child, you cried. Your father told you that it’s no big deal, to push through and move on. That much, you understood and you still do, but he told you the same thing every time you cried. Crying was considered a weakness. Part of you still believes it, which is why you hardly ever cry in front of anyone. As a child, it had never felt especially alarming, but as you grew older, you started to realize how twisted it was to connect emotions to weakness. They’re not. Matt taught you as much, as have all the other new people in your life, your friends, your chosen family. Still, it’s a part of you that you can’t seem to shake, no matter how hard you try. 

Letting it go had never seemed like a possibility before until you met Matt and started anew. On days like today though, you tend to forget, and he has to pick up the pieces of your heart your father has shattered only an hour prior. 

No matter how many times you say that you’re okay with the pain he caused, there will always be a part of you that feels dead inside whenever you think about it, a part that yearns for the childhood you never got to have, and a part that is angry at everything and everyone even though you promised yourself to always be kind, and you try to do so. But sometimes, it’s hard, and Matt knows how hard it is because he is familiar with the feeling of anger. 

He slowly pulls away from the hug to hold your face in his hands. “Whatever he said to you, don’t let it get to you,” he tells you, “because he doesn’t get to have that power over you.”

You sniffle. “It hurts,” you say.

“I know it does, but that’s why you have to let it go. Them, him, all of it.”

“Every time I try, he manages to come back into my life. It’s like I can’t escape him. I just don’t want to go back to where I was before.”

“You don’t have to,” he says and strokes your cheeks. “You’re home with me, right where you belong, and you’re going to be okay.”

Matt lowers his forehead against yours and you close your eyes, inhaling his signature scent and feeling his warmth fill your body with serenity and a sense of safety. You feel less alone in his arms. 

He presses his lips to your forehead before moving on to your lips. “I love you.”

You muster a weak, “I love you too.”

“It’s okay to move on, sweetheart.” He always knows what to say, you have noticed. He speaks from his soul right into yours, and in his arms, you don’t doubt it. You don’t doubt him. You believe him. “You already did, and it’s okay to not want to be confronted with the past again. The next time he wants to talk, just say no. Family is who you feel comfortable with, who you feel loved by, and you don’t feel loved by him,” he says. “Or do you?”

“No,” you whimper. His perception of love is twisted and you have never truly felt loved by him. 

“Then he and his new family are not worth it. You don’t deserve this, you deserve better, and you deserve to be loved.” 

“Why is it so hard to let it go even though it hurts so much?” You swallow a broken sob. “I just don’t understand…”

“It’s a phenomenon hardly anyone understands, but you’re not alone. Not anymore. I’ve got you and I won’t ever let you go, so I’ll help you the same way I always have, okay?” The scars are fresh and Matt tries not to abuse them too hard. He gently tugs you toward the couch and sets you down next to him, pulling you into his chest. 

You curl into him, seeking his love and comfort like a scared little kitten. “I’m sorry,” you say. 

Matt shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry, I just want you to be okay.”

You shudder. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, “especially not for turning your back on them and doing it on your own.”

And he's right - you don't have to be sorry, and you refuse to be any longer. In his arms, you're finally safe, and you refuse to let the man who ruined your childhood ruin your new life too. Because you deserve happiness, and you don't want to lose it again, whatever it takes.

[cha0ticspacebi]

You and Eddie sing Electric Touch by Taylor Swift (Feat. Fall Out Boy) together like it's the opening of High School Musical.

Pairing: Modern Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3 k

Author's Note: Shows up after a year with Starbucks and a dumb fic that wouldn't leave my brain. This song fic was born in my car driving one day listing to Taylor Swift. I've never written a song fic like this before and I took it incredibly literally using a few of the lyrics as you and Eddie sing karaoke. It's a cheesy, goofy, story with no warnings or anything but my blog is still 21+ so MDNI!

The Fourth of July was just an excuse to party in your opinion. Not that you didn’t take that opportunity year after year. Sometimes laying out by the lake losing track of the hours, forgetting everything around you except the way the water washes over the shoreline. Sometimes going to parties like your high school days, drinking some bizarre concoction of who knows what until you pass out. This year’s something was supposed to be going to the party at The Hideout with what’s his name that you’d been on a few dates with.

That is until you accidentally interrupted his date with that pretty blonde florist.

Now your plan was to just drink your sorrows away at home. Not to him specifically, he wasn’t worth the liver damage. More so to the barren wasteland that is your love life. One failed date attempt after another. Every story ended before it could even truly begin. Every something became a nothing so quickly that the idea of trying again just seemed too daunting.  At the end of the day though you were happy, so what did it really matter? 

Chrissy’s bright eyes flashed across your phone screen as you reached over to see who was interrupting your self loathing. She’d been a close friend to you since the day you moved to the small town of Hawkins, so close that you already knew what she’s going to say when you answered.

“Hi Chrissy,” you tried to hide the depression from your voice, “What’s up?”

“You know what’s up missy! Where are you? I thought you were coming tonight?” you could hear the sounds of many voices in the background and music playing.

“Eh- I’m not really feeling too good, think I’m just gonna stay in.”

She paused for a second, “If you’re actually sick I’ll leave you alone but I think you and I both know that’s just an excuse.”

You sighed into the speaker with a hint of a defeated chuckle, “Alright fine you win. I’ll be there in an hour.”

It’s true what they say. Getting cleaned and dressed, putting makeup on and actually paying attention to your outfit really does wonders for your mental health. As you survey your appearance you can’t help but smile and wonder what adventures the night has in store for you. 

The Hideout is packed when you arrive. You’ve driven past this place a dozen or so times but never actually been inside. Chrissy’s car was in the parking lot so you walked in and immediately started trying to find her. Which was certainly easier said than done.

People were everywhere. Every corner of the bar brimming with bodies. Some dancing, some drinking, everyone seemed to be waiting for something with an excited buzz. Crossing the room by squeezing your way through the small spaces between groups, you caught a glimpse of an empty stage. There were two microphone stands and a large screen set up in the corner facing inwards.

You looked away when you heard your name being called and saw Chrissy headed towards you holding the hand of a pretty girl, “Hey! I was starting to think you bailed again. Let’s get you a drink! This is Robin by the way.”

Giving a little wave you introduce yourself and settle in pretty quickly. Getting your first drink and managing to snag a high top table just as another group is leaving. 

This is nice, you're really grateful that the girls are carrying the conversation and never once does it turn to your recent dating failure. As much as you hate to admit it, this is exactly what you needed. Chrissy is rambling on between sips of her drink so you let your eyes wander around the bar, people watching and seeing if any additions had been added to the stage. Is a band playing? Your pondering came to a screeching halt when you accidentally made eye contact with a stranger.

He was sitting opposite your table with a big group and you had to look at precisely the right angle between the heads and shoulders to see him but it was well worth it. His long brown curls hung perfectly against his shoulders and even in this dim bar lighting you could see the shimmer in his eyes. He looked back at his friend almost as quickly as you did. But all of a sudden your cheeks felt warm and your heart started beating just a little quicker.

“Last call for sign ups, sign up over with Stacy at the bar!” a voice came over the microphone from the stage.

“Sign ups for what?” you asked the girls.

“Karaoke,” Robin answered, “Chrissy and I already signed up for a duet.” She smiled and judged your expression with an inquisitive tilted brow, “You gonna sign up?”

“Ha,” the scoff came out a little louder than you intended, “I’ll pass.” But your face says otherwise. In truth you weren’t against the idea but you didn’t like the idea of getting up there by yourself, maybe if you had a partner.

You were so lost in your own musings that you didn’t realize your stare had wandered back to those dreamy brown eyes. So distracted in fact that you were blind to the mischievous smile that appeared on Chrissy’s lips. You barely heard her when she said something and got up from the table.

“Where’d Chrissy go?” you finally came back to reality.

Robin’s glass set gently back down on the table as she finished a sip, “She went to change the song that she wants to sing with me.” With a nod you forgot all about the boy with the brown eyes.

You were on your second drink by the time karaoke began. The three of you sat listening and singing along if you knew the words. There was a good mix of songs. Of course the classic choices appeared and you sang a little too hard when The Backstreet Boys played. With every song you were a little more disappointed that you let your fears stop you from signing up…oh well maybe next time.

“Ok folks next up we have Chrissy and Robin!” You cheered so loud as your friends made their way up to the stage. Admiring them as they flawlessly sang a long forgotten song from the 80s together. By the end, Robin’s hand was holding Chrissy’s so firmly your suspicions that the two had been dancing around feelings all evening was confirmed. They sang their hearts out and got a huge applause after.

A slight sheen of sweat covered each of their foreheads as they made their way back to the table. Praises for their performance made you miss the next group entirely.

Only a few more names were called after that until finally the announcer said that the next duo were the final performers of the night and that immediately following, there would be fireworks outside. 

“I had a really good time tonight,” you went to grab your purse, “I think I’m gonna head out before the crowd.”

“No! You can’t, you’re–” Chrissy’s protests and your exit attempt were both cut off by the man’s voice calling your name through the mic, “And Eddie. If you’re both still here, come on up!”

Your eyes popped and you felt stuck. Blinking a few times to shoo away the initial shock you looked at Chrissy with a knowing expression. Rolling your eyes with a shake of the head you resigned yourself to your fate and headed up to the stage. 

Nerves bubbled as you did. You didn’t even hear the name of the person you’d be singing with, let alone know what song Chrissy could’ve possibly signed you up for. The hairs on your neck bristled with excitement as you stepped up on stage and found yourself face to face with the brown eyed boy. Who was looking just as surprised and shocked as you were. Does he think I signed us up? I don’t even know his name! Does Chrissy even know him? Fuck why’d it have to be him?! 

Anticipation seemed to hang there in the air as you felt totally unsure of what melody was about to play. The two of you just stood there in front of your respective microphones looking nervous and incredibly awkward. The moment went on for an eternity! Whoever is in charge of the sound back there needs to get their shit together. Just when you were about to say fuck it and hop off the stage, run outside and never be seen by polite society ever again– the song started.

Your eyes bee lined for Chrissy’s in the audience. Giving her an annoyed but grateful look. At least she picked something you know all the words to but she knew exactly what she was doing when she picked this particular song.

The instrumental opening helped bridge the gap. You felt your shoulders float down. Breathing became easier. Your heartbeat slowed to a reasonable pace as your hands reached for the mic. Looking down at your feet you realize the toe of his Doc Marten is tapping along. One more deep breath. The first words were exactly what you needed. You can do this.

“Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be ok,” the words fell surprisingly smooth from your throat and at the end of that first line you dared a glance to your right. His eyes were wide and captivated by you. From that first moment when you’d caught his stare, you felt a spark. That spark ignited again. Your fingers felt tingly as they held the microphone stand. The tempo picked up and you felt the last of your nerves vanish as your body moved along with the familiar song. The words ringing just a little too true, “Still I’m hoping that the fire won’t burn me! Just one time, just one time.”

Your voice rises to heights you weren’t even aware of as the chorus starts and you get closer and closer to his part. Your hips turn. Facing him a little more and more with every word. Not wanting to miss a second of seeing him once he gets his moment in the spotlight. Your eyes are on him permanently now and with that first, “In the heat of your electric touch,” you forgot all about why you didn’t want to come out tonight. 

His gaze is right back at you. You don’t need the monitor displaying the lyrics but you’d assumed he would and he nearly misses his cue. As blue words start flitting across the screen and he stays quiet. You stifle a laugh pointing eagerly at the monitor trying to help him. Mouthing the words to help him get back on track. It works and he shakes his head trying to look at both you and the monitor at the same time. 

“I’ve been left in the rain lost and pining,” His voice is deep. It’s warm. He’s good, you think, listening to him. He fumbles a little but it’s cute. He’s obviously never heard the song before but it’s easy to tell that this isn’t his first time on stage. You drink in his appearance beyond those eyes and shamelessly stare at the tattoos littering his exposed biceps. The way his sleeveless vest and cut off t-shirt align right at the cap of his shoulder. A few chains decorate his belt and his jeans are more than well loved judging from the rips and tears. 

He finds a rhythm and his voice recaptures your attention. I wonder if this is how he felt watching me. Does he feel the spark too? His smile lifts around each word and dances across his face as the energy of the song fills him. Singing the words as they appear with such conviction that there’s no way he doesn't believe them in his heart. He’s– he starts waving and pointing at the screen where red words had started appearing again signaling that you should stop staring and start singing again!

“Just one time!” your voices mingle and connect as you sing the shared lines. The two you might as well be in your own world. His eyes and the words floating between you become the only things in the room; the audience completely forgotten. Chrissy and Robin’s cheers unheard. Only his gentle steps closing the gap between you, stepping closer. Suddenly reaching out and grabbing your hand. His skin against yours igniting that spark again as you return the touch. Holding his hand like you’ve known him your whole life. The passion in your combined voices continues to build as the song reaches a peak.

It could just be that energy, it could just be the glint of desire staring back at you but you never want this moment to end. To live in the space between what could be and what could’ve been. If you never leave this stage he’d never get a chance to break your heart. But if you don’t you’ll never know if he even would. The final words leave his throat but he stops. His mouth agape staring at you as you hold that long note. The unmistakable look of interest in those eyes. 

He seems worth the risk.

The song fades and his hand squeezes a little before dropping yours and putting the mic back in the stand. Only then do you hear the applause. 

You turn to see all the people in the bar clapping and cheering. Your cheeks warm up again from suddenly realizing that everyone’s been watching you this entire time. Something takes your hand again and lifts it up. He grabbed your hand and raised it in his. Pumped with his performance as he waves at the people he’d been sitting with earlier. He brings your arm back down, leading you into a deep bow. Repeating that action once more before letting go.

With the music gone, you watch your chance hop off the edge of the stage, “Hey! You were,” you try to get your nerve as you hurry down and stand before him, “You were really good. I was so surprised when they called us that I didn’t catch your name.”

He chuckles a little, “I’ll tell you on one condition.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, “And what’s that?”

“Come watch the fireworks with me.”

[hoeforhao]

Hello!!! Your work is amazing, I love it a lot! Sooo... I have been thinking about Junhui as dad?!! Like god-it will be the death of me because just look at him he is so good with kids!

ㅤㅤㅤ ｡˚ 𓂋 🍵 . Woven by Fate﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

𑁍pairing: step-dad!junhui x g.n!reader

𑁍warnings: none, just some little bit of heavy topics ig? and just pure bliss of jun as a dad, explicit language, mention of pregnancy, mild angst, soft fluffy ending

𑁍author's note: thanks anon for giving me baby fever now!!!!! svt as dads is my weakest point. also i added some real life experiences of mine into this piece hehe...hope y'all will like it ♡*literally wrote this in 30 mins at a starbucks*

my taglist and asks for drabbles or fics or headcannons are always open ꒦꒷new smut soon꒦꒷

Taglist : @joonsytip @tommolex @tara-drabbles @meowmeowminnie @qkrcjstk @chwenott @mewheree @cinnamoroxie

"Yah run slow A'Jun" a soft chuckle parts your lips as your two year old daughter sprints towards her dad, arms wide open and face plastered with the loudest giggles.

"You missed dada princess?" the two tone haired 'prince charming' asks your babygirl, while swinging her up into his arms, showering her stature with a year's worth kisses. "But dada missed you more love. Now that I'm here, you better not stick by mommy or I'll be angy, hmph"

Oh what a sight! Seeing a 26 year old man pout like an absolute babie, infront of his toddler daughter, or should i say step-daughter.

Yes A'Jun, wasn't Jun's biological daughter. You had her with your asshole ex, who 'lost feelings for you' while you were literally pregnant with his child. Being someone who grew up without any male presence or help, you never ever felt the need for getting any man involved in your daughter's life anymore, until....

Jun was really what they described to be a 'prince charming' in children's tales and your daughter's knight in shining armor. But for you? He was just Junnie's kindergarten teacher, until that one day, that one destined ptm when your girl was curled up in a corner, throwing tantrums at you 'bout why everyone was there with their fathers, and she wasn't.

You knew this question would taint your daughter's lips for the rest of her life, and honestly? you now blamed yourself for not being able to give her a proper childhood. And boom, that's when Jun walked in. Would you say it was a fairytale epilogue? For sure it was. Cuz the way he just came out of nowhere and picked her up into his embrace, wiping off her tear stained face with wet kisses and going " Who said you don't have a father sweet potato? Who am I then? Huh?Dada is shad now". Yes a grown ass man, who was in no way related to your child was now baby talking with her, paired with cutest pout you've ever seen on a man.

And that's how your story started. A story of a perfect, small yet contented family. Something you've always dreamt of, but never ever hoped of living. You sometimes think whether it was really meant to be? Why? Cuz ain't it too much of a coincidence that you named your daughter after her 'would be dad' whom you had no idea of? Both of them being born on the tenth day of June, aka your birth month!! Maybe this family was actually woven carefully by the universe, one thread at a time, with the finest of muslin.

[jaehyunnie77]

omg hi! Saw that your requests were open hehe yay 🥳 could I request for a secret bf jaehyun x y/n one where they went for a Christmas party and y/n stands under a mistletoe without knowing and her guy friend starts a convo with her below it causing their friends to point it out and make them kiss, so instead, she kisses him on the cheek, making jaehyun jealous and pouty 🥹

Hope it makes sense hahaha! You can switch it up in your way too 🥰❤️ Love your stories so so much ✨

pairing: Jaehyun x f. reader

genre: pure fluff - like the purest i think i've ever written

word count: 2.1k

a/n: i got busy during the holidays, but here's a late christmas fic upon requested. thank you so much anon for sending this in. i hope you enjoy it :)

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

“I promise it’s going to be really quick babe. One hour max and then we can go home, order take out, and watch movies.” You tell your boyfriend as you adjust his tie.

“I just don’t see the point of why we have to be here when it’s freezing and Christmas is in a couple of days.” He says.

You look up after being satisfy with his tie and see a cute pout on his lips. He may be a twenty-five year old adult, but sometimes he can be a kid. Especially right now when he looks so adorable with his pout.

“Hey look at me.” you tell him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands mindlessly finding your waist and holding you close. “It’s going to be quick Jae and right after you’ll have me for the entire week.”

At that, his pout turns into a smirk and into a big smile. Like you’ve said, he can be a kid sometimes. “That sounds good honestly.” He leans forward and captures your lips together. If you didn’t have this Christmas party to attend to, you’d kiss him all night.

You pull away from him reluctantly, “We’re going to be late.”

He sighs deeply, “Okay. Just remember that I’m doing this for you. I’m guessing nobody has zero idea we’re together, so you go in first and I’ll follow soon after.” You smile at him before giving him another kiss.

“See you soon cutie.” You tease before heading in.

Your Christmas work parties are usually fun, especially when there’s alcohol and you get to see how fun your colleagues are. Usually, you’d enjoy your night out, mingle with everybody, and do small talk, but this year, all you want to do is go home with Jaehyun and spend time with him.

You both work at the same company and have been dating for six months. Of course, you would have to talk to HR about your relationship at one point, but you both like knowing that no one knows you two are together. Why? Well, let’s just say you both didn’t like each other at the very beginning. Yeah, how cliché right?

It all started a year and a half ago when Jaehyun was a new employee and your first interaction wasn’t the happiest one. You pulled an all-nighter the night before and haven’t had your morning coffee. As you walk into the kitchen, your brain automatically was filled with giddiness knowing you’re about to have your fuel for the day. There was a man using the coffee machine and you didn’t think much of it, let alone care who it was.

You stood next to him as you grab your cup and sugar pack and that’s when you heard a loud noise and a ‘fuck’ next to you. You look up to see the coffee machine smoking and you knew you were going to have a horrible day all because of this jerk.

“What the hell happened!?”

“I don’t know. I was just trying to put my brew in there and it just started acting weird and not doing anything so I just pushed all of these buttons and bam.”

“Ugh you idiot. If you don’t know how to work a coffee machine, go to Starbucks next time!” you say angrily.

“Are you questioning my intelligence on how to work a coffee machine?” the man looks at you angrily.

You stand a little straighter, “Yes I am because if you knew how to work this, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

He squints his eyes before retaliating back, “Well maybe you should start being nice to people you don’t know or better yet, how about you make yourself a cup of coffee before coming into work and spoiling everyone’s day.”

Your jaw fell open because never in your life has anyone talked to you like that or have a comeback as he did. You were at a complete lost for words until he turned around to walk back out the kitchen.

“Yeah, well it still doesn’t fix the problem you created by not knowing how to work this thing.”

All the man could do was laugh at you before waving you off and exiting.

Just who the hell does he think he is?

Since that day, you made your own coffee at home before coming into work. Little did you know, he always saw you with coffee in your hand and notices how your smile captures your beauty. Sure, you were probably having an off day that first encounter, but he still couldn’t help that you somehow took his words into consideration by bringing your own coffee into work.

You’ve seen him around a couple of times, but never interacted with him until you both had an assignment together.

“Oh look who it is. The coffee machine breaker.”

“Good morning to you too Cruella.”

You make a face at him, “Trust me I don’t want to work on this assignment with you either.”

Jaehyun eyes you before playfully saying, “Who says I didn’t want to work with you?”

Surprise, you look at him to see his eyes twinkling and a smirk on his lips. Once again, you’re at a lost for words and don’t bother saying anything back. Instead, you focus on your laptop in front of you putting random ideas on Word.

Jaehyun sees the affect he has on you and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Cute.

Who knew that assignment would change the interjectory of your outlook on Jaehyun. You ended up spending your long days at work with him figuring and coming up with ways for this assignment and on days off, you both somehow manage to meet up and talk about things you had in common.

After said assignment project was finished, you both found yourselves spending more time together. You no longer were annoyed by him or called him ‘the coffee machine breaker’, but instead, you called him by his name or his nickname Jae. Eventually things fell into place soon after.

What can you say? The universe does work in mysterious ways.

As you grab a flute of champagne by the bar, you turn around to see your boyfriend walking through the door. Even if it has been six months you’ve been dating or see him walk around for almost two years, he still takes your breath away.  The man knows how to capture everyone’s attention by his gaze and his well mannerism. Not to mention how hot he looks in his black and white suite.

I really can’t believe this man is my man.

As the party continues on, you manage to talk to a few colleagues and steal glances at Jaehyun from afar. It came to the point where you were almost playing a game of hide and seek.

“Wow. Look at you. Who knew you could dress up nicely.” Josh, your friend and ass kisser tells you.

“Everyone has their secrets. You clean up pretty nicely as well.”

“Thanks! Oh by the way, I just want to tell you that I think you’re an amazing person to look up to.”

“How many have you had to drink?” you chuckle. “But thank you for the kind words. If you’ll excuse me I –“

“Oh my god! Mistletoe! Y/N and Josh are under the mistletoe!” Someone on your right yells excitedly.

You see everyone near turn towards you as you look up and sure enough there is a mistletoe above you and Josh.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.” Your colleagues chant in unison.

You shake your head from pure embarrassment, but also trying to find Jaehyun to somehow tell him it isn’t what it looked like. You finally see him in the back, his gaze intently on yours with an expression you haven’t seen before.

“Just one kiss.” Your coworker Joy says.

You look back to Josh who’s hoping more than anything you’d kiss him. Without wanting unwanted attention on you, you kiss Josh on the cheek. “There. Done.”

“No, that’s not –“

“Technically, that was a kiss. It doesn’t mean we have to kiss on the lips and we are not like that.” You explain yourself. Your eyes search for Jaehyun once again only to see him pouting and heading outside the balcony.

You follow him right out, not caring anymore about what took place or the people around you. The only focus you had in mind was your boyfriend. Once outside, Jaehyun was overlooking the city and even when he stands with his back facing you, he’s still handsome. You walk towards him until you’re standing beside him and taking in the city night lights.

“Babe-“

“There’s people around Y/N.” his tone is cold with a hint of frustration.

“Please Jae, it’s not what you think. I didn’t even know there would be a mistletoe, let alone be under one.”

“Do you know that he likes you? I heard him talking about you one day and telling everyone he was going to shoot his shot with you because he thinks you feel the same way.”

“Are you jealous?” the more he talked the more you couldn’t help but smile.

“I bet he made sure to stop under that mistletoe just so he could get a kiss from you.” he sneers.

“You know I don’t feel the same way he does. I only have feelings for you.” you step closer to him until you could feel his warmth embracing you.

Jaehyun exhales frustratingly, “I just wish it was me under that mistletoe.” He says quietly.

You look at your boyfriend and want more than anything for that to also be him. An idea pops into your head and you know what you have to do. It was either now or never.

“Come with me.” You take out your hand for him to hold.

“Where are we going?”

“On an adventure.” You smile up at him with round eyes.

How could he say no to that face and to you. He takes your hand and follows your lead back into the Christmas party. Once inside, you still don’t let his hand go even if he tried to let go of yours. All that did was make you hold onto him tighter.

You found a mistletoe and walked over to it and stopped underneath it. Jaehyun has zero idea what’s going on until he looks at his surroundings and finally up to see the mistletoe.

“Y/N –“

“Y/N and Jaehyun are under the mistletoe.” You hear someone whispering loudly to someone and soon enough the entire room has their eyes on you both.

“There’s people watching.” He says nervously.

“Let them. I don’t want to be here with no one else but you. I don’t care what people say as long as I have you by my side and I don’t want to hide us forever because I’m in love with you. Only you Jaehyun.”

At your confession he smiles widely and you couldn’t help but smile wider if that’s possible. You crane your neck up as he bends down to meet you halfway as your lips meet each other. You’ve had many kisses with Jaehyun, but this kiss is the first kiss to seal how you truly felt for one another and to show everyone that you love each other. His hands cradle the side of your face before one goes to your back as he dips you down. You yelp in surprise as the room gets louder from all the clapping and celebration.

He takes you back up and you’re left winded. The smile on his face is the only thing you see and the only one that matters.

“You’re crazy but I love you Y/N.” he pecks your lips.

“And I love you coffee machine breaker.” At that you both laugh at how far you’ve come.

“How about we get out of here and go watch movies?”

“Please. My feet has been killing me for the last hour.”

“Babe, that’s literally the time the party started.” He giggles.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to be here, I just want to be with you.”

“God you’re so cute. Let’s go.”

At that, you both left the party hand in hand and no longer hiding your relationship. Starting tonight, you get to show the world who makes you the happiest person on the planet.

Also … you may or may not be already planning for many more kisses underneath the mistletoe with the love of your life Jeong Jaehyun.

[foundtherightwords]

Same Streets, New Memories

Pairing: Eddie x Chrissy (No Vecna/No Upside Down AU)

Summary: Sixteen years after he got his diploma and ran like hell out of Hawkins, Eddie is forced to return home. Disappointed and disillusioned, he broods over his past failures, until a chance meeting with a certain former Queen of Hawkins High puts things into perspective for him.

A/N: This is mostly inspired by the song I Finally Love This Town by Tired Pony. Also, I've seen a lot of "rock star Eddie" fics, so I wanted to explore the opposite of that - what if he never made it big at all?

Warnings: angst (quarter-life crisis stuff - they're all in their mid-30s though, is that too late for a quarter-life crisis?), mentions of drug dealing, drug use, and drinking, some violence

Word count: 6.5k

"Hawkins!" the driver called out amidst the hissing of the brakes, jolting Eddie from the stupor he'd sank into since the Greyhound left Indianapolis. He sat up in his seat and rubbed his aching neck, trying to suppress a groan. Sometimes he'd forgotten he could no longer fall asleep in any position and wake up just fine. For one thing, he wasn't nineteen anymore; for another, all those years spent pretzeled up into all sorts of shapes in the van, on the floor, or on the couch of anyone kind enough to let him crash at their place, were catching up with him.

The bus door clunked open, and Eddie stepped off, blinking in the watery spring sun. It took him a while to recognize that Hawkins' Greyhound station was still in the same place—the parking lot of Palace Arcade and Family Video—because Family Video had been taken over by a Blockbuster, while a Starbucks had replaced the Palace.

It had been sixteen years since he left, and he wasn't prepared for the changes. They say you can never go home again. But what if the place had never felt like home in the first place?

He was one of the few that got off the bus. There were no familiar faces among the passengers or those that came to pick them up. All the better. He didn't want to see anyone he knew.

Hoisting his bag over his shoulder and picking up his guitar case, Eddie trudged toward Forest Hills Trailer Park. It was early March, yet the air was already muggy, even more uncomfortably so after the cool dryness of Los Angeles, and he ran an irritable hand through his fizzy hair, again regretting his decision to come home. Well, what were his options? Stay in LA and work some shitty job with shitty pay that couldn't even afford him a shitty apartment, or return to Hawkins and work some shitty job with shitty pay, but at least he could stay with Wayne in their shitty trailer so he could save money on rent? The second one was an obvious choice, even if it made his insides shrivel up in shame every time he paused long enough to think about it. The prodigal freak of Hawkins, slinking home with his tail between his legs... It'll be OK, he told himself without conviction. Humiliation rarely causes death.

As he walked through Hawkins, Eddie noticed all the changes in the landscape and the people, some subtle, some obvious, but changes nonetheless. Compared to the constant flux of LA, Hawkins seemed older, more tired, the people wearing a harsher look on their faces. He wondered how much of the changes came from himself.

At the turnoff, he almost collided with some spotty-faced kids rolling past on their skateboards. "Watch it, old man!" one of them yelled. The word stung. Eddie thought about giving them a piece of his mind, but thought better of it once he got a closer look at them. Jesus, did he ever look that young? He must have. And thirty-six is not old. Yet, watching those kids, with their frosted tips and the hems of their jeans dragging in the dust, he felt ancient, like Rip Van Winkle returning from his twenty-year-long sleep in the mountains.

But that feeling waned, the closer he got to the trailer. In fact, by the time he pushed open the door, it was as if no time had passed at all, and he was ten years old, getting dropped off by Hopper after Al got arrested yet again. By that point, Eddie had gotten used to staying with Wayne whenever his old man got into trouble, and neither of them had noticed when that particular stay had extended from days into weeks into months and finally years.

The trailer was a time capsule. There was the prehistoric TV by the door, the old faded rug on the floor, the cramped, messy kitchen. All the mugs and hats he'd given Wayne for Christmases and birthdays still lined the walls. It had started sort of as a joke one Christmas, when Eddie first started living with Wayne and couldn't think of a present for him. He had found a Garfield mug and bought it with the little money he had. Wayne had laughed upon opening it and given it the place of honor on the shelf over the TV. And so for Wayne's birthday next year, Eddie had bought him another mug, and another for Christmas, occasionally throwing in a hat just to keep Wayne on his toes, until it had become a tradition and Wayne had to put up new shelves around the living room for the mugs.

Eddie still remembered the Christmas he'd given Wayne a "World's Best Dad" mug.

"I'm sorry, they didn't have a 'World's Best Uncle' one," he'd mumbled apologetically. Wayne had said nothing, only clearing his throat and giving Eddie a tight hug.

And there was Wayne himself. Eddie looked at his uncle with sadness. When had Wayne become so worn out? Ever since Eddie knew him, he had seemed to have been born old, always of some undetermined age between forty-five and sixty, yet full of a quiet energy that never went out. Now, slumped in the rocking chair in front of the droning TV, he looked shrunk, a tired old man. Guilt pricked at Eddie's insides. He'd promised himself the first thing he'd do when Corroded Coffin got big was to get Wayne out of the trailer park and into a decent house, and not only had he failed, but he also had to ask Wayne to take him back.

Eddie sighed and gave Wayne's shoulder a gentle shake. The old man opened his eyes, blinking at his nephew.

"You're home," he said, as if Eddie had just left the previous day.

Eddie wondered if he'd ever really felt at home anywhere. Here, in this rundown trailer, with his gruff but kind uncle, was probably the closest he'd ever gotten. "Yeah," he said simply. "I'm home."

***

Eddie got a job as a bartender at the Hideout.

He suspected that Lenny, the owner, gave him the job for old times' sake more than anything, but it suited him just fine. It meant he got to go to work when most of the townspeople were already on their way home, so fewer chances of running into people he knew. Besides, those that knew him and might mock him didn't usually frequent the Hideout.

It didn't pay that well, and Eddie wondered if the idea of raising enough money to self-produce and release the next Corroded Coffin album was even plausible. He briefly considered dealing again. But even back in high school, he had never made much money from it, mostly just enough to buy a new record now and then. And he couldn't risk getting arrested. Plus, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't even know where to begin now.

"I had to get out, man," said Reefer Rick, when Eddie dropped by his house on Lover's Lake one afternoon. "Kids these days, they're so much tougher. Cannier. And they deal with the hard stuff. I couldn't keep up. I had this place. I had a nice bit of money put away. So I got out while I could." Rick was well on his way to middle age now, spending most of the time sitting on the porch drinking or even fishing on the lake, like those bozos they used to make fun of back in the day, and, oddly enough, he seemed content. Eddie envied him that.

Rick was one of the few old friends that Eddie saw. Eddie found his initial fear about running into people he knew laughable now, because there was almost no one left. All his friends from high school had moved away. His bandmates, Jeff and Grant, had gone to LA with him after graduation, but Gareth, who'd graduated a year later, never made it. "Sorry, man, my mom wants me to stay close," he'd said. They had found a replacement for him, but it was never quite the same.

One Sunday, Eddie ran into Gareth at the store. Gareth recognized him first, and no wonder—Gareth's hair was now cropped short, making his cherubic face look tired and much older than his thirty-three years.

"Holy shit, man, when did you get back?" he asked, giving Eddie a bear hug.

"Gareth, language!" hissed the woman holding a baby, standing just behind them at the check-out line.

"Sorry, hun," Gareth muttered and gave Eddie an embarrassed grin.

They caught up at the Hideout that night. Eddie was relieved to be able to unload to Gareth all about the band's struggle, as he knew no one else would understand. Gareth was understanding, but Eddie couldn't help feeling that his old friend was congratulating himself for not following them to LA and subjecting himself to such hardship. A boring life with a boring job and a boring wife in boring Hawkins was preferable to that. And then Gareth's pager beeped and he excused himself to get home because his wife needed help with the baby, and that was that.

The rest of Eddie's Hellfire buddies, all those lost sheep he'd taken under his wings, were gone too. Henderson was in MIT, working on his PhD. He still sent Eddie a Christmas card every year. Byers, the only one who could rival Eddie as a DM, was in California after Mrs. Byers and Hopper got married and moved the whole clan there, but they were in San Bernardino or somewhere, and Eddie never ran into them in LA. Wheeler had also gone to school there—he was dating Hopper's daughter at the time, if Eddie remembered correctly—and stayed. Sinclair, who had turned out better than Eddie had expected, given his association with the jocks, was working in Indianapolis. They had all done well for themselves.

So perhaps it was a good thing that they weren't here to see their fallen leader.

***

But not everyone left Hawkins. Some stayed. And sometimes, those who stayed were the fucking worst.

It was a usual night at the Hideout, with the regular crowd of five drunks. Nobody paid attention to the band, some lame punk cover act. Eddie wanted to feel bad for the band, remembering that Corroded Coffin had once been in their shoes, but he couldn't muster up the sympathy. Looking at their carefully ripped clothes and perfectly coifed hair, he knew this was just a hobby for them, a pastime to make themselves look cool, and could be easily left behind when they went back to the safety of their parents' houses and their cushy little lives. Then he caught himself and shook his head. Jesus, when did he become so bitter?

A group of men burst through the door, their raucous shouts and laughter putting an end to his dark thoughts. Eddie barely glanced at them. He'd seen enough of those, both in the few weeks he'd been working at the bar and back when he was playing here with Corroded Coffin. Suburban dads, most of them, out on their allotted once-per-week guys' night. Bored with the usual, they decided to check out the Hideout as the most underground place Hawkins had to offer. Ha. They wouldn't know underground even if they woke up buried in a six-foot grave.

Silently, he filled their orders and gave them to Trish, the server. She was one of the new hires—just out of school, barely old enough to be working at a bar—so Eddie made it a point to watch out for her when he could. "You'll be OK with those?" he asked, indicating the men sitting in their booth.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she replied, though her face was grim.

The group stayed for a long time. As the night went on, they became louder, more obnoxious, and the grim set of Trish's mouth started to waver. She tried to act tough, but she was just a kid, really, and she was no match for those men.

After Trish brought the men their third rounds of tequila shots, Eddie heard a yell coming from the booth. "Get your hand off me!" It was Trish. She was grappling with one of the men, who was holding her by the waist, trying to pull her into the booth with him.

Eddie looked around. The band was gone, having finished their sets more than half an hour ago. Lenny wasn't even in. With a sigh, Eddie left the bar and approached the booth.

"Do we have a problem here?" he said.

"Damn right we do," said the man holding Trish. "You'd better teach your staff to be friendlier to the customers!"

"They are friendly. To those who can keep their hands to themselves," Eddie said, taking Trish's hand and pulling her up. She gave him a grateful look and scurried to the back.

The man got unsteadily to his feet. "Watch your fucking mouth," he snarled, giving Eddie a shove.

Eddie seized the man's wrist. "What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?"

The man winced, and his friends glanced at each other, worried. "Fuck," the man said. Then he took a closer look at Eddie, and his eyes popped. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Munson? Eddie 'The Freak' Munson?"

Eddie's stomach dropped, and his grip on the man's wrist loosened. He stared back at the man. Square jaws, a low forehead, and small, arrogant eyes. Loathing stirred his memories. His mind's eye added a letterman jacket and a baseball hat, and the man's features solidified. One of Jason Carver's cronies from the basketball team. What was his name?

The man's mouth lifted in a mocking smile. "Well, well, well. What happened to 'fuck this town', Munson?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Eddie said, ignoring the question.

"What are you going to do, kick me out?"

"Yes."

The others exchanged glances again, and Eddie was aware of how he looked in their eyes—a tall, intimidating guy in a leather jacket. Someone you don't want to mess with. One of them put his hand on the square-jawed man's shoulder. "Come on, Andy." Andy. That was it.

Andy jerked his shoulder away. "Don't let this freak scare you. All bark and no bite, aren't you, Munson?" he said, grinning at Eddie. "Just like in high school."

Eddie tried to swallow the hot gust of anger rising to his throat. "My bark is actually worse," he said evenly. "If you refuse to leave, I'm going to call the police."

Andy's friends had had enough. "Let's go, man. It's getting late anyway."

They filed out of the booth, throwing down money as they went. Andy still stared at Eddie, his already small eyes narrowed into angry slits, while his friends dragged him away.

***

After the bar closed, Eddie made sure that Trish was picked up by her boyfriend. It was four in the morning by the time he finished cleaning up and locking the door. As he walked through the parking lot that was still steeped in darkness, a voice called out, "Munson!"

Eddie turned around. It was Andy, standing by a car. What the hell?

"You really humiliated me tonight, you know that?" Andy said. By the slurring of his voice, his drinking hadn't stopped after he left the Hideout.

"You must have a really fragile ego, if that was enough to humiliate you," Eddie said, continuing to walk.

"Don't act all high and mighty with me, freak," Andy growled. "You were nothing in high school, and you're nothing now."

A haze of red came over Eddie's eyes, but he tried to keep it in check as he turned around.

"Hey man, I don't know what your problem is—" he began, but before he could finish, a fist landed on his cheek. Since said fist belonged to a guy who wasn't even standing straight, it didn't hurt much, but the surprise threw Eddie off his balance. Andy used the momentum to grab Eddie's shoulder and yank him down. Eddie's face collided with the car's side-view mirror.

Dazed, Eddie sat on the ground and touched his cheek. It stung where the mirror cut him, and his fingers came away wet with blood.

The haze of red slammed over his eyes again.

He jumped up and lunged at Andy.

What followed was a blur of punches, some connecting, either with flesh or metal, but most didn't. The more he missed, the angrier Eddie got. As if this bastard hadn't made his life miserable enough back in high school, he had to come to his work and attacked him as well. And for what? For ruining his night out with his buddies? As far as Eddie could see, Andy was doing a pretty good job of that himself.

Finally, Eddie had Andy by his neck against the car.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he roared.

"Fuck you, fucking freak!" Andy spat out.

Suddenly the fight went out of Eddie. What the hell were they doing, two grown men having a pathetic drunken brawl over some imagined animosity nearly twenty years ago? He let go. Andy sank to the ground, and Eddie staggered away.

***

His cheek throbbing, Eddie found his way into the woods surrounding Hawkins. He couldn't let Wayne see him in this state. Better to walk off some steam and come up with some excuse before facing his uncle.

At this hour, the sun was not up yet, but it was no longer pitch dark. The woods lay silent under a cold gray half-light that sapped everything of color and life. The only sound was the squishing of the wet, dead leaves of many winters under his feet, and the only movement, other than his own, was the drip-drip-drip of water, either rain or dew, from the new buds onto his head. Irritated, he reached up to rub the wetness out of his scalp, and winced as he accidentally touched the cut on his face.

He shouldn't have let Andy get to him. The encounter left a sour taste in his mouth and a heavy weight, like a lead ball, in his guts. It wasn't simply anger or shame, or rather, it wasn't his usual shame of being a failure. It was the shame of feeling like he and Andy were similar. He hated the idea that he could have something in common with that jerk, but there it was. It was like they were still teenagers, ready to use their fists at the merest hint of an offense, always trying to prove themselves, trying to be cooler than this or that person. Eddie thought he'd grown out of that high school mentality, but apparently not. It only took coming back to Hawkins, being amongst these people, to bring out that aggressive side of him.

Perhaps coming home was a mistake.

A rustling made him look up. It was light enough now for him to glimpse, through the trees, a figure in a tracksuit, a jogger, a woman, blond hair bobbing along with her steps, running toward him. Shit. He didn't want to run into anyone, especially not right now, skulking through the woods with dry blood down his face and caked on his knuckles. They'd think he was a serial killer or something.

Eddie whirled around, trying to blend into the trees before he and the jogger crossed paths. A branch smacked him in the face, blinding him, making him lose his footing. He took a stumbling step back. The embankment he was standing on, already weak from the endless rain of the past week, gave way, and before he knew it, Eddie was plummeting down a slope, dead branches and rocks scratching at his face and arms as he went.

For a moment, he lay sprawled at the bottom of the slope, blinking up at the green dome above him, too stunned to move.

Then a face appeared in his view. A woman's face, full of concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Then the concern on her face slowly dissipated, replaced by surprise and recognition.

"Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you with that beard." When Eddie didn't answer, she gave him a teasing smile. "Don't you remember me?" She extended a hand to help him up.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could sink into the earth and disappear right there and then. But when the trees remained above him, and the musty earth remained underneath him, he had no choice but to accept the helping hand and get to his feet.

"Hi, Chrissy," he said.

***

Chrissy Cunningham. The last person he'd want to run into, especially in his current state.

Though her hair was shorter and held back with a headband instead of pulled into a ponytail, she still looked exactly as he remembered, as she had in high school, those wide blue eyes, that bright smile showing a hint of her crooked front teeth. Next to her, Eddie felt like a tramp. Probably looked like a tramp too.

"You OK?" she asked, taking in his bedraggled and bloodied appearance.

"Uh, yeah."

"That's a nasty cut right there," she said, pointing to his elbow. It was only then that Eddie felt the searing pain. He must've snatched it on a rock or a broken branch. "You should get that cleaned up, or it'll get infected." Without waiting for an answer, she took his other elbow and guided him up the other side of the slope. "Let me go grab a first-aid kit from school, and I can take care of that for you."

"What school?"

Chrissy stared at him. "Hawkins High, of course."

"Are we that close?"

"Don't you recognize this part of the woods?"

They were up on the opposite side of the slope now, and Eddie saw an old picnic table and bench set, all rusty and weather-beaten, by a tree stump that stood like a sentinel over the place. He immediately recognized it. He must've been too pissed off about his encounter with Andy to realize where he was walking.

"Wait here," Chrissy said. "I'll be back in a minute."

As she jogged off, Eddie thought about running away himself. But that would be ridiculous. She'd already seen him. How embarrassing would it be if she came back and found out he'd ran away like some coward? Besides, the fall had left him too sore to move. He gingerly sat down on one of the benches, afraid it would collapse from his weight, and cast a look around. Back in his schooldays, this had been the hangout for the stoners and the burnouts, and there had always been some empty beer cans and cigarette stubs scattered about. Now add to that some old needles, and he could've sworn he saw a used condom too. Jesus. Even this place had gone to the dogs.

What twist of fate had sent him here, and into the path of Chrissy Cunningham, of all people?

Of all the drug spots in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...

Before he could contemplate that, Chrissy was back, bringing with her a first-aid kit. "So when did you get back?" she asked, lifting Eddie's elbow and cleaning the wound with practiced hands.

"A few weeks ago," Eddie replied, trying not to hiss at the sting of the rubbing alcohol.

"Are you just visiting? You're some big rock star out on the West Coast now, aren't you?"

Eddie was glad that her face was bent over his elbow, so she couldn't see the half-downcast, half-furtive look on his face. But his honesty won out. "Hardly," he mumbled. "Our albums sold like twenty copies each, and I think Jeff's mom—you know Jeff, right?—I think his mom bought most of them." He chuckled to show that he was joking, and Chrissy smiled back.

"I'd love to have a listen," she said. He knew she was just saying that to be polite, but it didn't stop butterflies from fluttering in his stomach. "I know it's not the same as seeing you guys live..." She lifted her eyes briefly to his face, before looking down again. "I always regret not making it to one of your shows at the Hideout, you know."

Eddie stared at her bent head, not knowing what to say. Being here with her and talking about Corroded Coffin and the Hideout brought back memories of another day in March, sixteen years ago. Back then, he'd felt, if not on top of the world, then at least pretty near it.

And that night... if he hadn't felt on top of the world that afternoon when he made Chrissy Cunningham laugh, then he'd certainly felt it that night.

It felt just like yesterday, the two of them driving back to his trailer after the successful conclusion of his Cult of Vecna campaign, trying the Special K, and then just staying up and talking. He couldn't remember what they'd talked about. All he remembered was a sense of... not happiness, exactly, but contentment, and it wasn't because of the Special K. No, it was because Chrissy had been there and she'd felt safe with him, and he with her.

He had never asked why she'd wanted to try the Special K. Later, as he drove her home, she'd asked him to drop her off a little further away so she could walk to her front door, and he'd guessed the reason, but hadn't pressed her about it.

"Sure, no problem," he'd only said, watching the way she twisted her fingers in her lap and fighting the urge to reach out, to put his hand over hers, and tell her everything would be alright. "I'll stay here and keep watch until you're inside."

She'd said thank and leaned over, perhaps to plant a kiss on his cheek, but at the same time, he'd turned his head to tell her "You're welcome", and the kiss had landed on his mouth instead. They'd both jolted back, embarrassed, only to be drawn back toward each other, inexorably, irresistibly, until her lips had found his again, deliberately this time. He still remembered the softness of her mouth, the taste of her lip gloss, the way she'd melted into his arms as he pulled her close...

He should've known it was too good to be true.

Queens of Hawkins High don't go around kissing freaks.

Chrissy had pulled away from him abruptly, ran out of his van, and disappeared into the night. When they got back to school after spring break, she'd actively avoided him.

Looking back, he realized that had been the first in the long string of disappointments that was to be his life for the following sixteen years.

And now here she was, talking as if nothing had happened.

It still stung, but he tried not to let it show.

"I didn't know you were in town," he said, changing the subject.

"Oh, I moved back a couple of years ago."

That surprised him. After leaving Hawkins, he'd tried hard not to think about Chrissy, but when he did, usually after some heavy drinking or after a late gig, when he felt particularly lonely, he'd imagined that she was leading a perfect life somewhere. Moving back to this shithole didn't seem that perfect.

And if she was here and Jason wasn't, that meant...

Eddie found himself glancing at her hand. No ring.

"My dad's passed, and my mom's had a stroke, so I moved back to help out," she explained. Eddie could feel all the years apart stretching out between them like a gulf. Their lives were so separate, so different.

"Shit. That's rough. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Moving back was a relief. I wasn't doing great in Chicago anyway. Divorced, working a dead-end job..."

"Oh. Sorry." Then, because he couldn't help himself: "Jason?"

She actually laughed, but there was no bitterness in it. "No. We broke up right after graduation. Just a few days after you left, in fact. He's married with a couple of kids now, living in Bloomington, I think."

She remembered when he left? Nah, don't be stupid. She only remembered 'cause that was when she broke up with that prick...

"What about you?" Chrissy asked.

"Me?"

"You married?" Was it his imagination, or did her nonchalance seem a little forced?

Eddie smiled ruefully. "Almost did, once."

"What happened?"

"She wised up." After that, it was just a string of fleeting relationships and meaningless hook-ups. More disappointments.

They talked about their classmates for a while—Nancy, Wheeler's sister, Miss Valedictorian, now a journalist in New York, Robin Buckley and Vickie Ryan, who shocked Hawkins when they started dating after graduation and then moved away together, and Billy Hargrove, the bad boy of their class, who was killed in a car accident in '92.

"Shit. Sounds like everybody left Hawkins," he said.

"Some stay. Some even came back," she said, gesturing to him and herself.

"That's only because they have no choice."

"No, I think it's nice to come back to a familiar place. You always know where you are. And if the place's changed... well, you've changed too, so that's even."

He hadn't thought of it like that. Suddenly the whole moving back home thing didn't seem so bad after all.

"You should be a motivational speaker, Cunningham," he said, trying to sound dry. "Have you considered that as a career?"

"I already kind of am, with the cheer squad."

"You're still cheering?"

"No, coaching." She perked up. "Didn't I tell you? I'm the cheer coach at Hawkins High now. Hard to believe, right?"

"No, not at all. You were always good at that." He remembered Chrissy in middle school, how young they'd been, how enthusiastic—how long ago was that, over twenty years? Jesus. No wonder he felt old.

"The only thing I'm good at, you mean."

"No, no," Eddie quickly said. "Well, you're good at this too," he added lamely, indicating the first-aid kit.

"I did study to be an RN." She finished bandaging up the large wound on his elbow and moved on to his other cuts and scrapes.

"So why—"

"Dropped out my third year." There was an awkward silence, but Chrissy didn't seem embarrassed. "I just couldn't cope with the stress, and there was no one to sell me half an ounce of weed at a discount," she said, twinkling at him, and he couldn't help smiling back at her.

That smile disappeared when Chrissy asked, "So, any exciting new project with Corroded Coffin coming soon?" Seeing Eddie's face fall, she sobered up. "I'm sorry, was that—"

"No, it's OK."

Eddie felt like opening up to her. Perhaps they weren't so different after all. Perhaps she'd understand.

"Well"—here Eddie took a deep breath, and the truth he'd been hiding came out in a rush—"there won't be any new stuff. Not for a while anyway. We got dropped by the label. The last album didn't sell that well, so they dropped us."

And there it was. The reason why he had to come home, the reason he felt like a failure. It had taken them years to get signed, and when it was only to an indie label, he and the guys had told themselves it was for the best, it would give them more independence. As it turned out, an indie label was less likely to interfere with their creative process, it was true, but it didn't interfere much with anything else either. They were left floundering, having to do almost everything themselves. Ten years of that would put a strain on anyone.

Without Gareth, they went through a string of replacement drummers, none lasting more than a few years, since they had never been part of Hellfire and didn't share their camaraderie. Then, when the label dropped them, it had been the last straw. They had held on for as long as they could, but eventually, when Grant and Jeff quit, Eddie had no choice but to quit as well. Grant had gone back to Hawkins for a while, then left again, having found a job in Detroit. Jeff, the rock of their group, was the only one who stayed in LA, working as a session musician. He had tried to convince Eddie to stay as well, but Eddie couldn't stand watching some other bands hit it big while he was forced to play someone else's music. To him, it would be a special form of Hell. So he'd gone home, feeling like he'd failed his bandmates, his uncle, and himself.

Chrissy listened to all that in sympathetic silence. No judging, no mocking, no clichéd advice or words of encouragement, just a softening of her eyes and a gentle squeeze of her hand on his arms as she placed Band-Aids on his cuts.

"Do you ever feel like you're a failure?" he asked, by way of a conclusion.

She peered at him for a moment before answering. "Oh just... you know, on a daily basis."

Those words rang a bell in Eddie's mind. He looked up to see Chrissy grinning crookedly at him, but there was some self-deprecation in that grin that made him realize how tactless his question had been.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean—"

"No, it's OK." Her smile got a little brighter. "I don't mind being a failure. Takes a lot of pressure off." When he raised a questioning eyebrow at that, she continued, "When you're already a failure, people don't expect much from you. You're free to live your life how you want, no need to live up to anyone's bullshit standard."

Eddie tilted his head to look at Chrissy more closely and realized his first impression of her had been wrong. She had changed. He could hardly recognize her from the nervous girl who jumped at the mere cracking of a branch when they met at this very bench sixteen years ago. She seemed... not exactly more confident, but rather, she no longer cared what others thought of her. Still, even back then, there had been a wild streak in her, a devil-may-care attitude that had driven her to buy drugs from him and agreed to come back to his trailer with him. Time and experiences had mellowed it, but it was still there. The same wild streak that had drawn him to her in the first place.

Chrissy finished with his arms and stood up so she could clean the cuts on his face.

"Do you remember that night before spring break, back in '86?" she said.

Their eyes met, and he held his breath. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I ran off like that. I'm sorry I ignored you in school afterward. It was—stupid of me. I cared too much about what other people thought."

So she remembered. And understood.

Eddie let out a breath, not just the one he'd been holding, but also the one that had his chest in a tight grip ever since he moved back home. With that breath, he also let go of all the heartache, guilt, and shame of the past. None of it mattered anymore. If he kept clinging to them, he would be no better than Andy.

He reached for Chrissy's hand, which was resting on his cheek. "You're not the only one," he said.

As she looked into his eyes, he would've given anything to be able to stay like that forever, with Chrissy standing over him, her face bent toward his, their hands intertwined, and the sun shining softly through the trees behind her, turning her gold hair into a perfect halo.

A branch snapped somewhere in the woods, breaking the spell.

Eddie cursed under his breath. His only consolation was that Chrissy was looking slightly flustered and disappointed, while she packed up the first-aid kit.

As she turned to leave, Chrissy blurted out, "Why don't you come to the game this Friday night? It'll be a walk down memory lane—oh, sorry." She winced. "I forgot that you don't care about—what did you call it? A game where you—"

"—where you toss balls into laundry baskets," Eddie said with a rueful smile. "I did say a lot of stupid shit back then. No, you don't have to apologize. It's just that—I have to work Friday night."

"Oh."

"But you're welcome at the Hideout anytime," he said, emboldened by her crestfallen look. "Drinks are on me."

Her face brightened. "I'll hold you to that."

"So... guess I'll see you around then?" he asked.

"Looks like it." She flashed him another crooked smile and walked off, while Eddie remained at the bench, feeling like he was fourteen again.

***

Wayne came out of the bedroom to find his nephew sitting on the fold-out bed. When Eddie first came home, Wayne had tried to give the bedroom back, saying the fold-out had served him well for ten years and would serve him well again, but Eddie had vehemently refused. His reason was that he was the one working nights now, and he didn't want to wake Wayne up when he came home early in the morning. In the end, Wayne had relented. He knew Eddie's guilt about having to move back in with him; no need to make the boy feel worse than he already did.

Eddie's face was bruised and bandaged, but he was looking more content than Wayne had ever seen him since he came home. And he had taken his guitar out of its case and was strumming a soft melody, occasionally stopping to jot something down in a battered old notebook in front of him. Wayne took that as a good sign.

"Mornin'," he said, shuffling toward the kitchen, making no comment on Eddie's late return or injuries. "You want some breakfast?"

"Hmm," Eddie replied distractedly, his attention still on the notebook.

It was his first attempt at writing a song in about eight months. He was a little rusty, but it felt good to pick up the guitar.

They say you can never go home again. But what if you can make the place feel like home? By peopling it with those that you know and love, and those that know you and, perhaps, if not love, then at least like you back?

She'd asked him to a game.

She'd said she'd see him around.

Maybe he could get someone to cover his shift...

"Hey Wayne," Eddie said, looking up from his guitar. "You ever watch a basketball game at Hawkins High?"

Wayne turned away from the pan of sizzling bacon to eye Eddie suspiciously. "Since when did you become interested in high school basketball?"

"Since today."

"Why?"

"No reason." Eddie shrugged, then he grinned, that familiar ear-to-ear grin that Wayne hadn't seen in a long, long time. "Just wondering if I could suffer through it this Friday night."

A/N: OK, I meant for this to be a one-shot, but my brain kept screaming at me to add more, so maybe I will expand on it later… not as a full multi-chaptered fic, but as a series of interconnected one-shots. We'll see.