#He's actually really toned down a lot over the years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jburrgf · 3 days ago

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Friends III, The Love Trope Series

EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED, PART III

◦pairing: bengals¡joe! x best friend¡reader!

◦summary: friends to lovers, childhood friendship. slow burn, soulmates.

◦description: it’s been five years since you saw joe for the last time. your life went another way, at the same time joe’s life went too. but everything changes when you find yourself needing somebody, and your best friend it’s the only one that you know it can help you.

◦ playlist: Friends, Ed Sheeran From Eden, Hoozier 21, Gracie Abramns You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift I Couldn't Be More In Love, The 1975

part I/ part Il

FIRST TRIMESTER OF 2019. – LSU & BENGALS.

Y/N

The sound of the door unlocking pulled me from my thoughts as I sat at the kitchen counter, finishing a cup of coffee. Ryan stepped in, his hair slightly disheveled, his scrubs wrinkled from the long hours he’d just endured. He looked tired—exhausted, actually—but his smile still found its way to his face when he saw me.

“Hey, babe,” he said, dropping his bag near the door and walking over to me. He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on my forehead before sighing heavily. “What a day.”

“You look beat,” I said softly, standing up to grab the cup of tea I’d made for him earlier. I handed it to him, and he gave me a grateful smile.

“Yeah, it was a long one. Surgery went well, though. The patient’s stable.” He sank onto one of the bar stools, taking a sip of the tea. “What about you? What’s on your agenda for today? Didn’t see you at the hospital.”

I hesitated for a moment, brushing an invisible crumb off the counter. “I’m actually meeting Lauren for lunch,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained neutral. “Oh yeah? Where are you two headed?”

“Just the café near her office,” I replied, leaning against the counter. “It’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I figured we could spend some time together.”

“That’s nice,” he said, his tone light. “You’ve been working a lot lately. You deserve a break.”

I smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt as I looked at him. He was always so supportive, so steady, even when I knew he was running on fumes.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, finishing the tea and setting the cup down. He stood up and stretched, his muscles stiff from hours in the operating room. “I think I’m going to crash for a bit. Don’t let me sleep too long, though, or I’ll be up all night.”

“Deal,” I said with a small laugh.

He kissed me again, this time on the lips, and headed toward the bedroom. “Have fun with Lauren, babe,” he called over his shoulder.

“Thanks, love.” I replied, watching him disappear down the hallway.

As the door to the bedroom closed, I found myself staring at the empty tea cup on the counter, an inexplicable weight settling in my chest. It wasn’t that anything was wrong—Ryan was kind, caring, and everything I’d ever thought I wanted.

It’s been weeks since I started feeling like this again. I don’t know what triggered me, but some weeks ago, I realized that I was thinking too much for things that I used to do normally.

So why did I feel like something was missing?

[...]

The café was bustling with the usual lunch rush, the hum of conversations and clinking plates filling the air. I sat across from Lauren, sipping on my iced tea as she animatedly recounted a story about her latest work trip. I was listening—really, I was—but my focus wavered every now and then.

My life felt… stable. Almost too stable, like the kind of perfection you don’t question because you’re afraid it’ll crumble the moment you do. Ryan and I had been living together for over a year now, and things were good. He was sweet, dependable, and everything I thought I needed.

“And then he knocked over the entire display!” Lauren exclaimed, her laughter pulling me out of my thoughts.

I smiled, shaking my head. “You always end up with the most chaotic coworkers.”

“Tell me about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “But enough about me. How’s work? How’s Ryan?”

I shrugged, playing with the straw in my drink. “Work’s good. Busy, but good. Ryan’s… Ryan.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “That sounded less enthusiastic than usual.”

“No, it’s not like that,” I said quickly, waving her off. “We’re fine. Really. Working in the same hospital where your boyfriend is an intern? Crazy, but we are working on it. It’s good to know someone from outside over there. But I don’t know, Ren… everything feels too norma to be right. I’m so scared."

She gave me a knowing look but didn’t press further. Instead, her attention shifted to the TV mounted on the café wall, behind me. “Oh, hey, isn’t that—”

My eyes followed hers, and my breath caught in my throat.

There was.

Joe.

My Joe.

Dressed in LSU’s purple and gold, he stood in front of a row of microphones, his helmet tucked under one arm as he answered questions from reporters, still in the middle of the field, after another game. His hair was slightly longer than I remembered, and his face had matured in the years since I’d last seen him. But it was undeniably him.

My heart twisted in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

He was… there. After five years, that was the first time I was seeing his face. Still with the same deep blue eyes, the playful smile, the same face… It almost felt like home.

“Holy crap,” Lauren said, her voice low. “He’s… different.”

My breath got caught on the top of my throat and I couldn't say anything. I missed seeing his face so much that my whole body felt numb. I wanted to cry so bad, that my eyes felt heavier cause of the tears almost running down my face.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. The headline at the bottom read, “Joe Burrow leads LSU to a decisive victory, securing their spot in the NCAA final.”

“He’s at LSU now,” I murmured, more to myself than to Lauren.

“Have you talked to him since… you know? I just remember you saying to me that things fell apart.” she asked carefully.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Not since college. Not since Ohio State.”

Lauren didn’t say anything, but the look on her face said enough. I turned my attention back to my drink, trying to ignore the ache in my chest that seeing him had stirred up.

I missed him so much. I spent almost half of my life putting in my head that I didn’t miss him at all, but everybody knew it was a lie.

Even myself.

JOE BURROW.

The rain battered against the windows of my apartment, the sound almost drowning out the action movie playing on my TV. I leaned back on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, the remnants of a takeout dinner sitting beside me.

It had been a long week, filled with practice, media obligations, and the weight of knowing that the championship game was just weeks away. But for now, I had the rare luxury of a quiet night to myself.

My phone was in my hand. I’ve been chatting with my mom

the whole day, missing the feeling of being by myself at my own house in Ohio. Some messages from my friends,

I was just reaching for the remote to turn up the volume when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, I glanced at the clock. It was almost 10 PM.

I got up, padding to the door in bare feet. When I opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

“Y/N?”

She stood there, drenched from head to toe, her hair plastered to her face and her clothes clinging to her frame. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and she was shivering from the cold.

“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” I said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.

She walked past me, her arms wrapped around herself as she stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom right by the living room and handed it to her.

“Here,” I said. “You’re soaked.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the towel and rubbing it over her hair.

I watched her for a moment, my mind racing with questions. What was she doing here? Why now, after all these years?

“Y/N,” I said carefully, “what’s going on?”

She hesitated, clutching the towel like it was the only thing holding her together. “It’s Ryan,” she said finally, her voice breaking. “He… he cheated on me.”

My chest tightened, anger and disbelief flooding through me. “What?”

“I found out a few hours ago,” she continued, her voice trembling. “He’s been seeing someone else for months. I confronted him about it, and he didn’t even deny it. He just—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, shaking. ‘ I had to see you. I saw you on Tv and found that you were over here, so I just took the first flight. You were right, Joe. He wasn’t good for me.”

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She nodded, taking a shaky breath as she lowered her hands. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she admitted, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“You came to the right place,” I said firmly. “I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”

She let out a small, broken laugh. “You always say that.”

“And I always mean it,” I said, my voice soft but steady.

For a moment, we just stood there, the sound of the rain filling the silence between us. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.

I froze for half a second before wrapping my arms around her, holding her tightly.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmured, resting my chin on the top of her head.

She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her shoulders relax slightly, her grip on me tightening as if she was afraid I might let go.

I didn’t.

Y/N

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. My eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, I forgot where I was. The couch I’d slept on was soft and warm, and I snuggled deeper into the blanket, catching the faint scent of Joe lingering on the fabric.

Then it all came rushing back. I was at Joe’s apartment.

I stretched lazily, my body still heavy with sleep, and glanced down at what I was wearing—a slightly oversized gray T-shirt with LSU printed across the front. It was Joe’s. He had handed it to me last night, insisting I’d be more comfortable in it than my own clothes. I smiled faintly, letting my fingers brush over the soft cotton.

Something about wearing his shirt felt intimate, grounding even. Like I belonged here. Like this was how things were always meant to be.

I pushed the thought away quickly, sitting up and wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. But the idea lingered, unshakable. This felt so natural—waking up in his space, surrounded by pieces of him. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if this wasn’t just a one-time thing.

If this were our routine.

If every night ended with us laughing together on the couch, and every morning began with me wearing his shirts, making breakfast, and waiting for him to wake up.

If I were his.

The thought made my chest ache, a bittersweet longing settling deep inside me. Shaking my head, I tried to push it aside. It was dangerous to let my mind wander there—dangerous and entirely pointless. Joe and I had spent years apart, and so much had changed.

But a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought about it too.

I stood quietly, padding over to the kitchen on bare feet. His apartment was small but cozy, filled with little reminders of who he was. A football sat prominently on a shelf, surrounded by LSU memorabilia. A framed photo of him with his parents and brothers hung near the door, and his signature cleats were neatly tucked under the coffee table.

It all felt so Joe, and it made my heart squeeze painfully.

I busied myself in the kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread from his fridge. The smell of coffee filled the air as I brewed a fresh pot, and I started scrambling the eggs. The motions were easy, comforting. For a few minutes, I let myself sink into the simplicity of it, pretending this was just another day in a life we could’ve had together.

The sound of footsteps behind me broke me out of my thoughts.

“Something smells good,” a familiar, groggy voice mumbled.

I turned to see Joe standing in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck as he yawned. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep. He was wearing sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“Good morning,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

He stepped closer, leaning against the counter with a small grin. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

Without warning, he pulled me into a quick hug, his arms warm and solid around me. His chin brushed against the top of my head, and I froze for a moment, caught off guard.

“Thanks for making breakfast,” he said, pulling back and giving me a sleepy smile.

I nodded, my cheeks warm as I turned back to the stove. “It’s no big deal. Figured you’d need something good to eat after last night.”

He chuckled, grabbing two mugs and filling them with coffee. “You spoil me, Y/N.”

I tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak. I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the thoughts I’d had earlier. The way this all felt so much like a life I wanted but could never have.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked, my voice light as I plated the eggs and toast.

Joe took a sip of his coffee, his expression thoughtful. “Coach gave us the day off,” he said. “A little break before the chaos kicks in again.”

“That’s good,” I said, glancing at him as I slid his plate across the counter. “You deserve it.”

He smiled, taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “I was thinking… Maybe we could spend the day together. Just us. Get out for a bit, catch up. It’s been a while since we’ve had time like this.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly busied myself with my own plate to avoid meeting his gaze. “That sounds nice,” I said quietly.

He nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before he started eating.

As we sat together in the quiet kitchen, sharing a simple breakfast and easy conversation, I couldn’t help but feel like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

JOE BURROW.

The diner was exactly how I remembered it—small, cozy, and buzzing with the sound of clinking dishes and quiet conversation. The familiar scent of coffee and fried food hung in the air, and the bell above the door jingled as Y/N and I stepped inside.

We slid into a booth near the window, and I handed her a menu from the stand. She scanned it quickly, her fingers tracing the laminated surface absentmindedly.

“You come here often?” she asked, her eyes flicking to mine.

“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “It’s nothing fancy, but the food’s good. And the people are nice.”

As if on cue, Patty, the diner’s longtime waitress, approached our table with her usual warm smile. “Joe! Long time no see,” she said, setting two glasses of water down in front of us. Her gaze shifted to Y/N, and her smile widened. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”

“This is Y/N,” I said, glancing at her. “An old friend from Ohio.”

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Patty said, her voice warm, the southern accent hitting hard. “What can I get you two?”

After we placed our orders, I leaned back in the booth, studying Y/N as she gazed out the window. The sunlight caught her features in a way that made her look almost ethereal, and for a moment, I found it hard to look away.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “Tell me everything. What have you been up to these past few years?”

She hesitated, her expression turning thoughtful. “Where do I even start?”

“From the beginning,” I said, my voice gentle. “I want to know it all.”

She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing patterns on the edge of her glass. “Well… after college, I started working as a physical therapist. It wasn’t easy at first, but I loved it. I started working in the same hospital as Ryan right after graduation.”

Her words stung more than I cared to admit, but I kept my expression neutral, nodding as she continued.

“For a while, everything felt perfect. But, I guess, things don’t always stay that way.” Her voice grew softer, and she looked down at her hands.

I wanted to reach across the table and take her hand, to offer some kind of comfort, but I stopped myself. “And now?” I asked instead.

“Now… I’m figuring things out,” she said, meeting my gaze. “One day at a time.”

I nodded, my chest tightening. “You’ve always been good at that,” I said softly.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What about you?”

I hesitated for a moment before answering. “I dated Emily for a while in college,” I admitted. “But it didn’t work out. We were… more fucking around than anything else. She thought she was pregnant right before I transferred to LSU. It was crazy. She wasn’t, by the way. ”

She nodded, her expression unreadable. “ I remember the gossip about her and a football player, I didn't think it was you. At least you realized that.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning forward. “And now, here we are.”

The silence between us was heavy but not uncomfortable. It felt like there were a million things left unsaid, but neither of us knew how to voice them.

“You should come to the game,” I said finally, my voice steady. “The final. I’d love for you to be there.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” I said firmly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

She nodded, her smile growing. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

For the first time in years, it felt like we were finding our way back to each other, like it was supposed to be this whole time.

Y/N

The room smelled faintly of powder and lavender as I stood in front of the mirror, my fingers deftly applying blush to Robin’s cheeks. She sat patiently on the cushioned chair, her eyes twinkling with warmth as she glanced at me every so often. I couldn’t help but smile at her reflection. The soft hum of country music played from Robin’s phone, resting on the vanity. My reflection in the mirror made me laugh—an apron tied over my casual outfit, my hair in bobs, and a few smudges of eyeshadow on my fingers.

Robin smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looked at herself in the mirror. "You’ve got a real talent for this, sweetheart," she said, her voice soft and filled with affection.

"Thank you, Robin," I replied, dabbing lightly on her cheekbone. "I don’t get to do this often, so it’s a nice change of pace."

She chuckled, tilting her head slightly so I could finish blending the blush. "I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. Joe’s been... different lately."

I paused for a moment, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Different? What do you mean?"

Robin’s smile grew, her gaze warm and knowing. "He’s happy. Truly happy. I haven’t seen him like this in months, not since the two of you stopped talking."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, a mix of guilt and warmth spreading through me. I smiled softly, focusing back on her makeup to avoid the lump forming in my throat. "I missed him too," I admitted quietly.

Robin’s hand reached up to pat mine, resting gently on my wrist. "You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.” Robin opened her eyes, meeting mine in the mirror. “I could tell. And let me tell you, sweetheart, he missed you too. I’ve never seen him this happy in years—not even after his biggest wins.”

Her words sent a warm ache through my chest, and I bit my lip to keep the emotion at bay. “Joe and I… we’ve been through a lot,” I said quietly, setting the brush down. “But I’m glad we found our way back. It feels… right.”

“It is right,” Robin said firmly, watching me with an intensity that caught me off guard.

I finished her makeup shortly after, standing to gather my brushes and palettes. As I zipped up my case and turned to leave, Robin’s hand gently caught mine, pulling me back.

"Y/N," she said, her tone soft but firm. “Stay with him.”

I turned to her, surprised by the intensity in her expression.

I blinked, unsure of what was coming. “Of course,” I said softly.

Her hand tightened around mine, her eyes locking onto mine. “Stay with him. Be there for him. You and Joe—you’ve always been meant for each other. Even when you were kids, I could see it. Your parents saw it too.”

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words to respond.

Robin smiled gently, her other hand patting mine. “You’ve always been his anchor, Y/N. And he’s always been yours. Don’t let anything take that away from you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Her words hung heavy in the air, laced with a kind of certainty that shook me to my core.

"I—" I started, then stopped, unsure of what to say. Finally, I gave her a small, shaky smile. "Thank you, Robin. That means... a lot."

She smiled warmly, patting my hand once more before letting go. "I just needed to say it," she said.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I left the room. Her words echoed in my mind as I made my way back to my room to get ready, my heart heavy with emotions I wasn’t quite ready to face.

JOE BURROW.

The locker room was buzzing with energy, the kind that made the air crackle before a big game. I pulled my jersey over my head, adjusting the fit as I glanced around at my teammates. Justin was joking with Chase about his pre-game ritual, and Clyde was busy tying his cleats, muttering something about a lucky pair of socks.

I leaned back against the bench, checking my phone for the time. But instead of closing the screen, my eyes caught the notification at the top—a message from Y/N.

Y/N: Good luck tonight, Joey. I’ll be in the stands, cheering for you like always. You’ve got this.

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it, and the warmth that filled my chest was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the message—it was the fact that it came from her.

“Alright, what’s with the grin, man?” Justin’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to see him smirking at me, his arms crossed.

“Yeah, you’ve got that lovesick puppy look again,” Chase added, chuckling. “What, did Y/N text you or something?”

Clyde raised an eyebrow, joining in. “Bet it’s her. You always get that look when it’s about her.”

I shook my head, trying to play it off, but the heat rising to my cheeks betrayed me. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, sliding my phone back into my bag.I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the locker. "You’re all imagining things."

“Oh, we know exactly what we’re talking about,” Justin teased, nudging Chase. “You’ve been hung up on her forever, dude. It 's obvious. I Don't even know the girl, but you talk about her like we know. I know you, dawg.”

"Are we, though?" Chase added, walking over and clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You’ve been different since she came back into your life. Happier."

Chase nodded. "And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’ve been turning down every girl that’s thrown herself at you lately. We’re not blind, Joe. You’re saving yourself for her."

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. I didn’t know how to respond, because deep down, I knew they were right.

"I’m just... happy she’s here," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended.

Justin grinned, patting my shoulder. "That’s all we’re saying, man. You’re different with her around, and it’s a good thing."

“Yeah,” Clyde chimed in, grinning. “The way you turn down every girl who comes your way? Like, come on, Burrow. We’re not blind.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t deny the truth in their words. They didn’t need to know that Y/N had always been different—that she wasn’t just some girl I liked, but the one person who made everything else feel… right.

“Alright, leave him alone,” Clyde said with a laugh, slapping me on the back. “He’s got a game to focus on.”

I nodded, grateful for the out. But as I laced up my cleats and joined my teammates in the huddle, Y/N’s message lingered in the back of my mind, fueling me in a way nothing else could.

I didn’t say anything, just nodded as they walked away. My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down to see another message from Y/N.

Y/N: See you after the game, okay?

Because no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained the same: she was still the person who mattered most to me.

Y/N

The energy inside the Mercedes-Benz Superdome was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It felt alive—every cheer, every chant reverberating through the walls and into my chest. I stood on the sideline with Robin and the rest of Joe’s family, surrounded by a sea of purple and gold on one side, orange and white on the other. LSU versus Clemson. The 2020 College Football Playoff National Championship.

Robin was gripping her program so tightly that it was starting to wrinkle, and I couldn’t blame her. My nerves mirrored hers, every muscle in my body tense as I watched the game unfold. Joe was out there on the field, his figure distinct even in the chaos of the game. He moved with a calm confidence that I knew all too well, every play he called executed with precision.

"Did you see that pass?" Robin asked, nudging me with her elbow after Joe threw a perfect spiral to Ja'Marr Chase, resulting in yet another touchdown for LSU.

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. "He’s... unbelievable," I finally managed, my chest swelling with pride.

But Joe—Joe was unstoppable. Watching him was like witnessing a maestro conduct a symphony, every throw precise, every play executed with absolute confidence. He’d already thrown for multiple touchdowns, including a jaw-dropping 52-yard pass to Ja'Marr Chase that sent the crowd into a frenzy.

By halftime, LSU was leading 28-17, and the air around us was electric. Robin leaned toward me as the players disappeared into the tunnel. “He’s locked in,” she said with a knowing smile.

I returned her smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “He’s got this.”

The second half was when LSU truly took control. Every time Joe stepped onto the field, it felt like magic. His connection with his receivers was flawless, and the defense held Clemson at bay. The tension that had gripped me earlier started to ease, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride.

By the fourth quarter, LSU was up 42-25, and the reality of what was happening began to sink in. I found myself holding my breath as the clock ticked down. The final moments seemed to stretch on forever, the roar of the crowd growing louder with each passing second.

When the clock finally hit zero, the stadium erupted in chaos. Purple and gold confetti rained down from above, and the sound of the LSU fight song filled the air. Robin threw her arms around me, her laughter mixing with tears as she hugged me tightly.

"He did it!" she exclaimed, her voice almost drowned out by the noise.

I laughed, my own eyes misting over as I hugged her back. “He really did.”

My eyes scanned the field, searching for Joe. He stood in the center, his hands on his hips as he looked around, taking it all in. The confetti swirled around him, and for a moment, he looked almost frozen in time, like something out of a painting.

And that was the moment that I realized that I never stopped loving Joe Burrow.

JOE BURROW.

The confetti was falling, the cheers were deafening, and I stood in the middle of it all, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

We’d won. LSU was the national champion.

We’d worked so hard for this moment, sacrificed so much, and now it was real.

I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. Around me, my teammates were celebrating, their voices blending into a cacophony of joy and triumph. Ja'Marr slapped me on the back, shouting something I couldn’t quite hear over the noise, but I nodded and grinned, my own excitement finally breaking through.

“Let’s go!” Ja'Marr shouted, slapping me on the back, pulling me out of my daze.

We made our way to the stage that had been set up in the middle of the field, the trophy gleaming under the bright stadium lights. I stood at the center, my hands gripping the trophy as I lifted it high above my head. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath my feet.

As I lowered the trophy, my eyes instinctively scanned the sideline, and there she was.

Y/N.

She was clapping and cheering, her smile wide and radiant. Even from this distance, I could see the pride in her eyes, the same pride that had always been there, even when we were kids.

Without thinking, I handed the trophy to Ja'Marr and jogged toward her, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the game.

“Joe!” she called as I reached her, her voice cutting through the noise like a beacon.

I didn’t stop to think. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a circle as she laughed. Her laughter was warm and bright, a sound that made everything else fade into the background.

“You did it,” she whispered, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck as I set her back on the ground. Her voice was soft, but the emotion behind it was palpable. “I’m so proud of you, Joey. So, so proud.”

Her words hit me harder than anything else that night. I rested my forehead against hers, my hands still on her waist. “Thank you,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for being here. For always being here.”

She smiled, her fingers brushing against my jaw. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

For a moment, it was just us. The noise of the stadium, the chaos of the celebration—it all faded away. It was just me and Y/N, standing together in the middle of a championship.

DRAFT NIGHT, 2020.

Y/N

Joe’s childhood bedroom was cozy, almost nostalgic, with its Star Wars-themed decor still intact. The soft glow from the television screen illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the familiar posters of Jedi knights and starships on the walls. It felt surreal to be here, lying beside Joe, knowing that tomorrow his life would change forever.

I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as we watched some random movie he’d picked. Neither of us was really paying attention to it; the sound was more of a background hum to our shared silence. His arm was draped lazily over my shoulders, holding me close. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make my heart ache in the best way.

Turning my head slightly, I looked up at him. His face was calm, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles as he stared at the screen. I knew him well enough to recognize that he wasn’t truly focused. “Hey,” I said softly, my voice cutting through the quiet. “How are you feeling? About tomorrow, I mean.”

He shifted slightly, his gaze lowering to meet mine. “I’m good,” he replied after a beat, his voice steady but tinged with a trace of nervous energy. “Excited, mostly. I'm a little anxious, I guess. It still doesn’t feel real, you know?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “It’s real, Joe. And you’ve worked so hard for this. I always knew you’d be the first pick. You were born for this.”

His eyes softened at my words, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile that made my chest tighten. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “For saying that. For... always believing in me.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off as casual, though my cheeks warmed under his gaze. “It’s easy to believe in someone like you, Joe.”

The conversation fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between us. I felt his breathing slow and deepen as the minutes passed, and when I tilted my head to look at him again, I realized he’d fallen asleep.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He looked so peaceful, so at ease, even with the weight of tomorrow hanging over him. Gently, I reached for the remote and turned off the TV, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds.

“Goodnight, Joe,” I whispered, snuggling closer to him. His arm tightened around me unconsciously, and I closed my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull me to sleep.

JOE BURROW.

The next day felt like a whirlwind. Hours blurred together as we prepared for the moment that had been years in the making. My parents’ living room was full of buzzing energy, with my family and a few close friends gathered around. The NFL Draft was finally here, and I was sitting on the same worn leather couch I’d grown up on, surrounded by people who had supported me every step of the way.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was perched on the armrest beside me. She was calm, her presence grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain. Every time my nerves threatened to creep in, I’d catch her eye, and she’d smile, a quiet reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

The draft began, and the room grew tense with anticipation. The first pick was announced, and hearing my name—"With the first pick in the 2020 NFL Draft, the Cincinnati Bengals select Joe Burrow, quarterback, LSU"—felt like an out-of-body experience.

I shot to my feet, the room erupting into cheers and applause around me. My mom was the first to hug me, her arms wrapping tightly around me as tears filled her eyes. My dad followed, clapping me on the back and grinning proudly.

As the celebrations continued, I noticed Y/N standing off to the side, clapping and smiling so brightly it could’ve lit up the entire room. I crossed the space between us, pulling her into a hug that was equal parts relief and gratitude.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride. “Joe, I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d be number one.”

I pulled back just enough to look at her, my hands still resting on her waist. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. Thank you. For always being there, for... everything.”

Her smile softened, her hand brushing against my arm. “You don’t have to thank me, Joe. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

Her words settled over me, grounding me in a way nothing else could. As I moved toward the computer for the online press conference, I couldn’t help but glance back at her, standing there with that same unwavering smile. She wasn’t just my best friend—she was my constant, my anchor, the person I trusted above all else.

When the conference ended, I didn’t go back to the crowd of family and friends. I went straight to Y/N. She stood as I approached, meeting me halfway, and for a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other.

“Thank you,” I said again, my voice quieter this time, meant just for her.

She reached up, her fingers brushing lightly against my jaw. “You’re going to do amazing things, Joe. I hope you know that.”

I smiled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “Only because I’ve got you in my corner.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away. “Always,” she repeated, her voice soft but certain.

At that moment, with everyone else celebrating in the background, I knew that no matter where this new chapter took me, as long as Y/N was by my side, I’d be okay.

BENGALS, 2023 – WRIST INJURY.

Y/N

I was there when the injury happened.

Not physically, of course—I wasn’t at the stadium. But when Robin called me, her voice trembling with an urgency that sent chills down my spine, it felt as if I was standing right there on the field, watching it unfold in slow motion. My heart felt every second of it.

“He got injured at the game. Come to our house as quickly as possible.” The words echoed in my mind as I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

The phone call from Robin had come in the middle of my shift at the clinic. I had just finished helping a patient with their rehab exercises when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Seeing her name on the screen sent a chill down my spine. She rarely called, and never during the day.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. My knees wobbled, and I leaned against the counter for support, my chest tightening at the thought of what Joe must have been going through. Robin went on to explain that it wasn’t just a sprain or something minor. His wrist was fractured, the damage severe enough to require surgery.

I didn’t think twice. I grabbed my bag, clocked out without explanation, and headed straight for my car. The drive to Joe’s house felt like an eternity, every red light and slow turn taunting me. My thoughts spiraled as I imagined him sitting there, his dreams for the season crushed. Joe never let injuries get to him—he always pushed through—but something about Robin’s tone told me this was different.

When I arrived, the house was unsettlingly quiet. Robin greeted me at the door, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She gave me a small, tight hug, whispering, “He’s in the living room. He hasn’t said much.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to form a response. Walking into the living room felt like stepping into a space that wasn’t meant for me—a room filled with tension, unspoken words, and too much pain. Joe sat on the couch, slouched forward, his injured wrist heavily bandaged. His head was bowed, his eyes fixed on the floor as if it held all the answers he was searching for

I hesitated at the doorway, taking in the scene. Robin, his dad, and a few others from his team stood nearby, their expressions somber. It felt as though the room itself was mourning with him. I swallowed hard, fighting the tears that pricked at the corners of my eyes. He didn’t need my pity. He needed me.

Slowly, I walked over and sat down beside him. The couch dipped under my weight, and for a moment, neither of us said a word.

“Joey...” My voice came out as a whisper, thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

His shoulders trembled, and then, without warning, he broke. His head dropped into his uninjured hand, his entire body shaking as quiet sobs escaped him. I didn’t think—I just acted. I reached out, placed a hand on his back, and gently guided his head to rest on my lap.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, running my fingers through his hair in soothing strokes. “You don’t have to say anything.”

He didn’t resist, letting his head fall into my lap like we’d done countless times before, though this time was different. His shoulders trembled with silent sobs, and I felt his pain as if it were my own.

“They said it’s bad,” he finally croaked, his voice muffled against my leg. “The surgery... it’s tomorrow. They don’t know if…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, and my heart broke for him.

“You will,” I said firmly, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You’re Joe Burrow. If anyone can come back stronger from this, it’s you. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He looked up at me then, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why do you always believe in me so much?”

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Because you’ve never given me a reason not to.”

JOE BURROW.

The hum of the hospital lights was a constant background noise as I lay on the gurney, staring up at the stark white ceiling. My wrist was throbbing under the layers of bandages, a dull reminder of everything that had happened. The thought of the surgery—of what came next—loomed over me like a shadow.

This wasn’t just a game. This wasn’t just a season. This was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d built my life around. And now it all felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

The nurses moved around me, their voices low as they prepared me for surgery. But the only person I cared about—the only person I wanted near me—was Y/N. She hadn’t said much since we arrived, but her presence was enough.

But then I looked to my right, and there she was. Y/N stood just a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, watching over me like she always did. Her presence was steadying, grounding, even in the chaos of the hospital.

“Yes, I’m his Physical Therapist.” She said for the nurse, filing some paperworks that they asked her to do it.

When the nurse left the room, Y/N moved closer, her sneakers squeaking softly against the tile floor. “Hey,” she said gently, her voice breaking through my haze of anxiety. “How are you holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my nerves were shot. “I’m fine,” I lied, though the crack in my voice betrayed me.

She tilted her head, giving me that look—the one that told me she didn’t buy a word of it. “Joe, it’s okay to be scared. This is a big deal.”

I sighed, letting my guard down just a little. “I guess I’m... anxious. I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. “You don’t have to know right now. Just focus on one step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Her words sank in, and for the first time all day, I felt a glimmer of peace. “I chose this hospital because of you, you know,” I admitted, my voice low.

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Joe...”

“You’re the only person I trust with this,” I said, my eyes locking onto hers. “You’ve always been the one who kept me steady, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.”

Her expression softened, and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll always take care of you, Joe. You know that, right?”

Before I could respond, the nurse returned, signaling it was time. Y/N walked beside me as they wheeled me to the operating room, her hand never leaving mine until the last possible moment.

“I’m going to be with you the whole time, ok?” She told me, as they walked me down to the surgery room.

I layed on the bed, seeing Y/N on the top of my head, backwards. She put her hands on my face, tracing my figure. She was the last thing that I remember before vanishing.

[...]

When I woke up, the world felt hazy, my thoughts swimming in and out of focus. The first thing I noticed was the absence of pain. My wrist was heavy, wrapped in layers of bandages, but the sharp ache was gone.

As my vision cleared, I saw her. Y/N was curled up in the recliner by my bed, her head resting against the armrest, her arms wrapped around herself. Her hair was slightly messy, and there were faint shadows under her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She looked exhausted, but even asleep, she was beautiful.

“Y/N,” I croaked, my voice hoarse.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw me awake, her face lit up. “Joe! You’re awake.” She quickly got up and came to my side, her hand instinctively reaching for mine. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice soft and full of concern.

“Better,” I said, managing a small smile.

Her lips curved into a small smile, but I could see the worry lingering in her eyes. “I’ve been here the whole time, Joe.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I’m okay.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened settling between us.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the silence between us filled with unspoken words. Finally, I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I decided to say what I’d been holding back for years.

I needed to do it. I couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Y/N,” I began, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

“I love you,” I said simply, the words tumbling out before I could overthink them. She looked at me like I was saying I love you, you are my best friend “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at me. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across her face. “Joe... I love you too. I always have. You are my best friend.”

“No, Y/N, not like that. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” I continued, the words pouring out of me. “And I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared. Scared of losing you. But I can’t keep it in anymore.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and I braced myself for the worst. Then, she smiled—a soft, radiant smile that made my chest ache.

“I love you since you showed up at my house wanting to play with your new neighbor. I love you since the time that you made me work with you to prom, or since the days you started cooking my after-game meals. God, I’ve been in love with you for ages. Since I can remember.”

Relief flooded through me, and I reached for her hand, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You are my first love, and you’ll always be, Joey. Every person that came to me was making me ready for you.”

“I don’t know how my life was supposed to be without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she whispered, her voice full of certainty.

She got close to me, her lips touching mine in the most perfect kiss ever. Her mouth, all the memories, all the awake nights, all the jealousy and all the fights, it just faded away. I held her through her neck, making her get closer to me every second that was going by.

“We kissed each other at prom.” I told her, giving her another quick kiss. “I spent years of my life thinking it was just a dream, but one of my friends kinda told me it was true, last year. And I just kept it a secret waiting for the perfect moment to tell you.

‘You’re such a douchebag.” She laughed, “And that’s why I love you.”

“I’m never going to leave you anymore. Y/n, you are the best part of my life. It was always you.”

At that moment, I knew that no matter what the future held, as long as she was by my side, I’d be okay.

I finally had my girl in my arms.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #bengals

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lvrrgirlll · 12 hours ago

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Currently thinking about semi-arranged marriage!patrick x wedding planner!reader…

Patrick wasn’t ever really keen on the idea of marriage. He always thought it was something that just wasn’t for him. He still thought that, actually. But his parents didn’t.

He had taken some time off the tour to visit his parents after years of struggling to really get where he wanted to go. Both he and his parents knew why he was really there, though. They had frozen his trust fund.

Long story short, they gave him an ultimatum: either get married and settle down or lose access to the trust fund. And if the couple months he’d gone without the trust fund had taught him anything, it was that he only had one skill in life, and he was barely good enough at that to stay afloat. That’s how he ended up meeting you.

His fiancé, a nice yuppie who his parents had set him up with, had hired you, a wedding planner, to plan the most elaborate wedding money could buy for the two of them. Unfortunately, though, (or fortunately —depending on how you look at it) she was far too busy between wedding dress fittings, long days at the office, regular gym sessions, and shopping outings with her friends to ever actually show up for your meetings. She would always just tell Patrick what she wanted, and he would show up.

So over the months of planning the wedding, you two grew a lot closer than he felt with his own fiancé. After all, he was only marrying her for his trust fund and she was only marrying him because she was scared she was getting too old and decided it was time, no matter who it was with.

You had told yourself that whatever you felt, it would never come to the surface, but you couldn’t help all those little moments when it almost felt like you could be playing your wedding with him. Like when you two were at the cake tasting and he got a little frosting on the corner of his lip and you wiped it off. Anyone would do that though, right? Or when you two were touring venues and didn’t even realize you had started holding hands. It was a mindless thing, of course…

The worst one was when you were sampling different brands and types of champagne. His fiancé had told him to make sure he really tried them all because she only wanted the best. And somewhere in all of the tasting, you two both got a little tipsy. And maybe while you were tipsy you two kissed, which turned into making out in your car. You were both too sober to call it some drunk mistake, but you both called it one anyways.

“So what’s it like being a wedding planner,” he’d asked once, when you two were at a florist looking at different sample arrangements.

“Fun. Y’know, you help plan the happiest day of some people’s lives,” you responded simply.

He chuckled dryly. “Happiest day of their lives, huh…” he repeated under his breath, a sort of bitter, contemplative tone lingering. “And it’s not… lonely?” He’d noticed the lack of a ring on your finger long ago, when you two had first met to start planning.

You froze for a moment, trying to brush off whatever feelings his comment stirred up. “Well… yes. Sometimes.” You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with him as you messed with the flowers in front of you. “I mean, of course I hope to plan my own wedding someday, instead of someone else’s.”

When you two leave the florist, onto the next project, Patrick stops you for a moment. He wordlessly fiddles something out of his pocket, a small flower he must’ve taken from inside. He’s tied the stem in a ring. “Here.” Offering a smile, one of pity and longing and a sort of… sorrow, perhaps, he slips the dainty flower ring onto your left hand ring finger. He proceeds walking then.

“C’mon, our wedding’s not gonna plan itself,” he reminds you. But when he says “our wedding” you have to remind yourself he doesn’t mean yours and his. He means his and hers.

#ok this was supposed to be cute and silly and it still is but the end got sad uhh…#idk y’all I’m in a tragic yearning mood ig?#also I know this concept is lowkey evil bc like yes he has a fiancé but…#cordelia makes moodboards #cordelia writes #patrick zweig #challengers #patrick zweig x reader

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nostalgiclittlespace · 1 day ago

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May we see some CG!Blitzø and Little!Stolas please?

This takes place during Sinsmas, and Stolas has regressed super young at Blitzø's apartment after Octavia got angry with him and disowned him (this also takes place before the Sinsmas party).

Boop! Here you go, friend! I had to rewatch the episodes before writing this, but they gave me so many thoughts of hurt/comfort for the two of them. Enjoy! (And yes, Christmasy Sinmasy title despite it being March)

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC. DNI IF NSFW, KINK, PROSHIP, OR SIMILAR. DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER SITES

Title: Have yourself a merry little Sinmas

Pairing: CG!Blitzø & Little!Stolas

Wordcount: 1205

Description: After confronting Andrealphus and getting disowned by Octavia, Stolas is stressed and regressed—a terrible combination already, but even worse on a holiday! Blitzø does his best to cheer him up with lots of kindness and love (Hurt/comfort)

TW: Mention of being disowned, alcohol is implied once, depression, dissociation

Have Yourself a Merry Little Sinmas

Stolas was obviously depressed. Not only that, but also very Little.

And who could blame him? How else were you supposed to react after such traumatizing experiences? When your own daughter disowned you?

As he wandered around his small kitchen preparing a snack of cereal for the prince, Blitzø couldn’t help but feel guilty for all that had happened. Especially considering the role he played in Octavia’s decision to boot her father out of her life…I didn’t deserve such a sacrifice in the first place, let alone one that cost him his daughter, he thought miserably, recalling the fateful day when Stolas came to his rescue, stripped of his status, and consequently ruined his life (well, at least for the next 100 years of it)

Blitzø sighed, shaking the despondent thoughts away. Guilt could wait and it wouldn’t change anything. He would make things right, eventually at least, but for now all he could do was take care of his boyfriend.

The prince’s eyes were glazed over, a blank stare overtaking his usually sharp and observant features. He hadn’t moved from the couch since they returned to the apartment that afternoon. Furthermore, he did not seem willing to discuss or process his feelings; the tears had dried up on the way home, since replaced by an eerie silence and that empty stare. Lack of communication and movement combined most likely meant he was in one of his youngest headspaces.

Blitzø stared at him worriedly, pondering the best course of action. The Sinmas party was only hours away; and while the guests themselves were the least of his worries, leaving Stolas so overwhelmed and surrounded by strangers was concerning.

Should he cancel the party altogether? Technically it had Stolas’s best interests in mind, but the prince would undoubtedly feel guilty and Loona disappointed, so was it really worth it?

He could tell Loona to keep the gathering small, limit it to her closest friends, Millie, and Moxie though. Usually he enjoyed throwing ragers for the holidays, no matter how much he regretted it the next morning thanks to headaches and a trashed apartment, but this seemed like the perfect excuse to tone down the festivities.

With that resolve, Blitzø sent his daughter a quick text, requesting only a small group of friends to be invited. That’s done, he thought as Loona replied with a thumbs up. But what can I do to actually help him feel better?

That answer came a little faster; he had a Sinsmas present already wrapped and hidden in his bedroom. While Stolas had said he didn’t celebrate the holiday, it didn’t stop Blitzø from wanting to share the festivities and traditions with him, and that included having an excuse to give him a gift.

He sent a quick glance towards Stolas’s still frame, where he still sat unmoving on the couch. Creeping quietly to not disturb or distress him, Blitzø tiptoed into his bedroom. He had hidden the little gift box on top of his closet, it’s cheerful paper and sparkling bow promising smiles and happiness to its awaiting recipient.

Blitzø carried it reverently as he returned to the main room of the apartment. Stolas still had not moved, so he took up the bowl of cereal in his other hand and returned to Stolas’ side.

“Hey, handsome, got you a snack,” the imp smiled crookedly, holding out the bowl and setting the present on the floor, out of immediate sight. “You didn’t eat lunch, you must be real hungry by now.”

Stolas didn’t reply; his eyes briefly flickered to Blitzø when he began speaking, but his gaze had since returned to the wall. Not a great sign, but the caregiver was not deterred. He took one of Stolas’s feathered hands into his own, giving it a light squeeze.

“Want to play? Watch some TV?” Blitzø suggested.

Stolas blinked again, slowly processing the options given. A look of overwhelm crossed his already worn, stressed features, before shrugging, lost.

“How about we put on a movie and have some snuggles?” Blitzø offered, seeing that his Little had no interest in making decisions at the moment.

TV and close contact was their go to on bad days; when both could relax without the pressure of talking or straining their energy on crawling around the floor to play.

Agreeing, Stolas nodded. A bit of the tension in his limbs eased, as Blitzø smiled at him encouragingly. With a yawn, he curled up and laid his head on his caregiver’s lap. There he completely deflated, muscles slack and eyelids drooping. Blitzø himself relaxed, glad his Little was cooperating with his attempted comforts.

“Alright, buddy,” he grinned softly, running a hand through his already mussed feathers.

Ordinarily, he might attempt to indoctrinate the Goethals into Spirit or My Little Pony (the magnum opus of the Sinner’s race), but he knew better than introducing something new at such a stressful time. Stolas had his own favorites and comfort shows; the perfect picking for a day marred by turbulent emotions.

So, the imp reached forward to snatch the remote from the coffee table, careful not to jostle Stolas in the process. It only took a minute to scroll through his streaming services and find The Owl House. Unironically, his prince loved it; he would watch it for hours on end, sometimes even choosing it over playtime.

Blitzø selected the episode that left off the last time they binged the series. Stolas cooed softly, already seeming calmed by the familiar scene and characters that unfolded on the TV screen.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Blitzø grinned, picking up the present box from the floor. “Merry Sinsmas.”

Stolas’s eyes widened, a faint glisten returning to them as he took in the sight of his gift. He fingers flexed as he reached up for it, grabby hands. Blitzø breathed a silent sigh of relief as he handed it over; it was another good sign that Stolas was reacting despite his sadness.

With fumbling movements, the prince tore away the wrapping paper and ribbons. A little light returned to his eyes, which brightened further after he pulled the box open and revealed its contents. Eagerly, he reached in and pulled out an elaborate paci, decorated with gold glitter and a red heart charm on its center. Fittingly, the words “My Heart” were beaded onto the handle.

Stolas cooed, an almost smile on his face as he immediately pushed the pacifier into his mouth. Looking up at Blitzø, seeming so sweet and innocent and cute, the imp couldn’t help smile adoringly down at him.

Stolas didn’t say anything, not that Blitzø expected him to, but his nuzzle against the imp’s stomach, pure enthusiasm, and soft coos showed his gratitude well enough.

“You’re welcome, love,” his caregiver laughed lightly.

Considering everything that had transpired that day, their position was far from perfect. Already it has been a rough month, and Blitzø was expecting the next one to be even harder. But for now, he counted his blessings. He and Stolas were safe and secure, sheltered by each other’s company. They couldn’t predict the future, but they could make the present as comfortable as possible and enjoy a merry little Sinsmas together.

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rebelfell · 16 hours ago

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please I've gotta ask about Never Have I Ever skinny dipping with Steve! Any crumbs you're willing to share I'll gladly eat up!!!

Hi, darling! You get a lot because I actually have quite a bit of this one written 🤭 Enjoy!

“Steve, seriously?!”

Everyone else’s heads turned, whirling around onthe host of your gathering who was still holding up the same number of fingers and looking none too pleased about being called out for it.

The tips of his ears burned bright pink, standing out against the chestnut locks of hair that curled around them in messy disarray as he looked down at his lap. You slapped a hand over your mouth trying (and failing) to stop your own laughter.

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t mean to…” you giggled, swaying in your toasted state. “I just meant, you have that beautiful pool and you’ve never—”

“Why’s that weird?” Steve snapped, his harsh glare turning on you. “Just because I have a pool, I automatically have to float around in it with my junk hanging out?”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, hardly phased by his outburst. For someone who’d been so eager to play at the start, the sour look he was sporting indicated the game wasn’t going quite the way he must have envisioned.

It seemed the former king of Hawkins High wasn’t quite as experienced as his reputation might have lead one to believe. He was practically a prude.

Really, things had been going downhill ever since Argyle’s turn when he admitted never had he ever ‘wined, dined and 69-ed’ and Steve had to watch Nancy and Jonathan both drink while his own beer remained untouched in front of him.

Even Barb had lost more fingers than Steve.

Only one, but still.

“It’s not weird, it’s surprising is all,” you amended, a pacifying tone only making his hazel eyes flash with more indignation as he licked his lips and parted them to argue back.

“We used to do it all the time,” Heather suddenly chimed in from her spot in the circle.

“All the time?” Steve scoffed in disbelief, his head whipping in her direction. “Really?”

“Fucking Billy always scheduled us to close down the pool,” Chrissy explained with a grimace. Her pillowy pink lips curved into a wily smile, seaglass eyes twinkling with mischief as she raised her cup again. “So we tried to make the most of it.”

The group erupted in a mix of woos and chuckles as Chrissy and Heather bent their heads together, strawberry blonde waves brushing against tight, brunette coils as their noses nuzzled.

Steve’s eyes almost rolled to the ceiling. “Okay, but you guys work at the pool—”

“And you have one in your backyard!”

Eddie jumped in next, his voice booming and beer sloshing as he gestured wildly. The grin on his face made you smile, but the look on Steve’s had your chest twinging with regret. You hadn’t meant for everyone to start dogpiling on him.

“Yeah, but—”

“Forget about it! Nobody cares!” you groaned. “Just go already, it’s your turn.”

Steve’s eyes rolled again and he huffed slightly, but abandoned his attempt to defend himself.

“Fine,” he said, zeroing in on your lone finger.

You cringed inwardly at how vulnerable the last round had left you, but remained cavalier as ever on the outside, shooting him back a challenging smirk. Steve’s eyes narrowed as he thought and then lit up as a shockingly evil smile spread across his annoyingly handsome face.

“Never have I ever…kissed someone over ten years older than me.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

wander through my wips

#wip walkthrough #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader

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angstandhappiness · 8 days ago

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BAH HAH MAYBE

#European football player with potential that suffered a career ending injury and went into hospitality management instead #Then he went into cooking and found a real talent there #He's actually really toned down a lot over the years #<- prev tags #heh

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sophiamcdougall · 1 year ago

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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

15K notes · View notes

11keu · 1 month ago

Text

SHOULD’VE | S.JY

SYNOPSIS. From high school into college, you had your heart set on Jake. Frustratingly hot, popular with the ladies, potentially the love of your life… And not willing to sleep with you. At least, it seemed that way. In actuality, he was desperate for you.

PAIRING. Sim Jaeyun x Fem! Reader (Park Sunghoon x Fem! Reader)

GENRE. Smut. Mostly p with a little bit of plot, kinda abrupt ending. Weird dynamic of mutual hating and mutual pining. Sunghoon is not a full feature. Reader is a little bit (healthily) obsessed with Jake. Jake feigning nonchalance. University au. Miscommunication trope.

WORD COUNT. 7.1k

WARNING. Smut under cut, minors do not interact.

CONTENT. Alcohol, talk of virginity and loss of virginity, profanity, dry humping, fingering, spitting / saliva, reader calls Jake a slut, big dick Jake, oral (m and f rec.), cum eating, vocal Jake, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), praising, choking, corruption but not really, kinda jealous sex, creampie, hint of aftercare.

First Year

Your heart was beating so fast, you were sure Jake could hear it. Feel it, even. Against his chest, as he pressed you down into the shitty mattress already used by your university's past first-years. You could taste the whisky on his tongue, the lime on his lips from tequila shots. And yet, he tasted incredible. Sweet, and clean. Just as you had imagined.

Your hand was cupping the back of his neck, your fingertips scratching delightfully against his freshly shaven fade. It made shivers run down his spine.

One of his large hands gripped the back of your thigh, his short nails pressing into your skin. He pulled you closer, bringing your hips and chest flush against his own. He groaned softly against your mouth as his other hand slid up the slope of your back, pressing you more firmly against him. His lips moved against yours hungrily, his tongue brushing against your own and tasting every part of your mouth. His teeth lightly nipped at your lower lip, earning a gasp from you.

‘Tight little thing, aren’t you?’ He whispered against your mouth, his tone low. He pulled your hips up against his own, letting you feel just how hard he’d gotten for you. He leaned back far enough to look down at you, his eyes taking in the way you looked beneath him. Your hair a messy halo against his pillows, lips kiss-swollen and parted, chest heaving.

Tight? He could feel how nervous you were under his touch?

‘Why’d you stop?’ Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked up at him. He smirked back down at you, appreciating your desperation to have his lips on yours.

‘’Cause,’ he started, his hand sliding further up your thigh before coming down to grip the underside of your knee. ‘You’re acting like a little virgin.’ His voice was low and teasing, a hint of a laugh on his lips, only helping to turn you on further.

You felt like an idiot. A transparent idiot.

You avoided his gaze, glancing around his room. It was still pretty bare, like he'd given up on decorating, or hadn't yet finished. Very likely. After all, classes hadn’t even began yet. You looked back up into his eyes, feeling a lot smaller than you would have liked under his dark gaze.

Jake studied your face silently, watching every little change in your expression. He could feel the nerves and anxiety coming off of you in waves, and seeing you look away only confirmed his suspicion of just how inexperienced you were.

‘You've never done this before,’ he stated matter-of-factly. It wasn't a question, more of an observation said with absolute certainty.

Confusion washed over you as he dropped his hold on your thigh and placed his hand beside your head instead. His other hand grabbed your arm, unwrapping it from around his neck and watching it fall back against his bed. Your eyes narrowed further as he sat back on his knees, running a hand through his hair and wetting his lips.

‘What are you doing?’ You raised a brow, sitting up on your hands.

‘You're a virgin,’ he said bluntly. ‘I don't fuck virgins.’

‘What?’ You spat. ‘What do you mean you don’t fuck virgins? I never said I was a virgin.’

He hummed, his smirk widening. ‘Yeah, but I can tell you are one,’ he let his eyes glance over you once again, unabashedly, his gaze taking in the sight of you with your hair all tousled and your top hanging off of one shoulder. ‘I don’t do virgins. Too many expectations, too much commitment.’

You rolled your eyes and got up off his bed, picking your reddish-brown leather jacket up from the floor. You slid it on, untucking your hair and then putting on your boots, zipping them up quickly. The ones that Jake had slowly unzipped as you’d kissed him, before tossing them onto the floor. With your bag on your shoulder, you left his bedroom with a slam of his door.

He sat there in stunned silence, the door slamming making him cringe. It was at least three in the morning. He was sure his housemates would hate him for that one.

He didn't expect you to react the way you did. He figured at most, you’d be shocked and a little embarrassed, maybe annoyed. But that you’d still ask — beg, even — to be an exception to his stupid rule. A rule he’d made up on the spot just to make sure you were still comfortable with him taking your virginity. He hadn't thought you’d just leave like that.

You’d known Jake since high school. You were well aware of his reputation, that he’d raked in quite a high body count. But none of that mattered to you, because as your naive teenage self believed, he was going to fall in love with you one day. He wouldn’t care that he would be your first, because you intended for him to be your last. Safe to say, you were a little delusional and maybe a little too obsessed with Jake Sim.

It was a cold September night as you walked back to your own accommodation, hugging yourself for warmth. The walk of shame, for sure. An embarrassing story that was going to stick with you for the rest of your life.

Second Year

Luckily for you, not everybody was as stupid as Jake.

No, Park Sunghoon would never turn you down. Within weeks of your sad excuse of a hook-up with Jake, you lost your virginity to one of his friends. Albeit, they weren’t that close anymore.

He was a sweet guy on the university’s ice hockey team, and you’d fallen for his pretty smile and shy personality at another fresher’s party. A selfie of yourself wearing his ‘23’ jersey sat deep in your camera roll, taken as he was grabbing you a glass of water from his communal kitchen. Although you never really talked to him again, you weren’t regretful. He was just your key to the flood gates. And soon, the stereotypical college experience of drunken hook-ups and short-term relationships became your reality.

As for Jake, you positively hated his guts.

Somehow, you ended up taking one of the same classes in both semesters last year. He was so nonchalant about the fact that you’d almost slept together that it majorly pissed you off. And you were always arguing with him in class, two pairs of eyes narrowed as you debated over whatever the professor had just been talking about.

Maybe it was more on your side than his, but he still bit every time and retaliated. Really, he couldn’t fully understand your temper towards him. So what that he didn’t sleep with you? He was trying to be respectful, as terribly as that came across. But for you, the guy whose name you used to scribble into your notebooks had turned you down rather harshly. It should’ve been him. You wanted it to be him, and you hated that it hadn’t been. Not because you regretted sleeping with Sunghoon, but because things not turning out your way just never sat right with you. The anger you felt towards your delusional timeline being messed up manifested itself as snapping at a clueless classmate who could barely recall that drunken night.

Well, maybe that was just what he told himself to help him sleep better at night. Because here he was, cupping your jaw and kissing you sensually atop a stranger’s mattress.

‘I hate you,’ you hissed against his lips, and he just moaned into your mouth, pressing his hardened cock against your thigh.

‘Feeling’s mutual,’ he murmured, sliding his knee between your thighs. He smirked as your hips jerked against his knee, seeking out some sort of friction.

You gripped at his t-shirt, holding him impossibly closer as he began to rock his knee against your bare core. Panties would be a stretch, considering your thong was too tiny to be covering up anything. Your hips rolled in time with the movement of his knee, breathless moans tumbling from your lips, each one swallowed by his perfect kisses. God, he was just pissing you off even more.

His hands moved to grip your thighs, parting them so that he could slot himself between them. You moaned as you felt his hard-on through his jeans, your clit bumping against his bulge every time either of you rocked your hips. Soft groans formed in the back of his throat, gently slipping into your mouth as you sucked on his tongue.

He wanted to hate you, he really did. But right now he was finding it difficult, with your body quivering underneath him, your thighs clenching around his hips every time he rutted against you. He wanted to hate you for ruining his classes with your incessant arguing last year. He wanted to hate you for making his heart ache in an odd sort of way, but he couldn’t. Not in the midst of your sweet, addictive taste and the feel of your hips grinding against his.

His teeth sunk into your bottom lip before he pulled away breathlessly. His hand on your thigh moved to grip at your tiny skirt, bunching the fabric up around your waist just so he could get a look at you. An audible groan followed as he looked at you. The way your thong was soaked through and barely covering you, the way your hole clenched around nothing just because he was looking at you.

‘Fuck, I wanna fuck you so bad,’ he gasped out, almost desperately. He gripped your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. You gasped as his nails dug into your hips, pulling your ass flush against him. He rubbed his clothed erection against your ass, smirking as you pressed back against him. ‘Yeah? You want me to?’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ you groaned.

‘No need to snap at me,’ he chuckled darkly, sliding a finger along your soaked thong. ‘So fucking wet. Thought you hated me, hm?’

You nodded weakly against the pillows.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and let them snap against your skin. And then he yanked them down your thighs, forcing you further forward on the bed. He tested the waters by pushing his middle finger into your dripping hole, pleased that you sucked him right in. You moaned, clenching around his finger.

His finger moved slowly at first, bottom lip between his teeth as he watched your slick coat his finger. And then he began to pump it in and out of you, adding a second when he was sure you could take it. He took pride in the way you shuddered and clawed at the bedsheet, moans and whimpers muffled against this stranger’s pillows. Whose apartment even was this? He had no idea, he just hoped that he’d remembered to lock the door before he had you pressed up against it.

‘No oh-so-witty comebacks now, hm?’ He smirked, watching your hips rock back in time with the way he was thrusting his fingers into you. ‘Only way to shut you up is to make you moan, huh?’

You grabbed a pillow from beside your head and tossed it behind you, attempting to take him out. Of course, it completely missed. ‘I still hate you,’ you breathed out shakily.

‘Stop fucking yourself on my fingers then,’ he chuckled. ‘Go on, tell me you hate me again.’

He dipped his head down, letting saliva drip from his tongue and onto his fingers so that he could add a third. You cried out softly, clenching around his fingers once more.

‘I hate you,’ you whined. He groaned at the sound of you, his free hand cupping his rock hard cock through his jeans.

‘Shit, baby, cry like that again for me,’ he teased, squeezing himself harder.

He stopped touching himself in favour of wanting to make you cum. He spread your legs wider, making you fall flat against the bed. But he was quick to pull you back up and pull his fingers out of you, using your slick and his saliva to rub at your clit. You jerked forward, the sound leaving your lips so pornographic that Jake swore he could cum hands-free in his pants if you made that sound for him again. He rubbed your clit until your thighs tensed and shook, and then his fingers were back, buried deep in your hole and curling against your sweet spot.

‘Oh fuck, oh shit—’ You moaned out against the pillows, his other hand gently rubbing your clit to help you through your orgasm. Your hand came behind you and yanked his wrist away when it became too much, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you slumped fully forward against the bed. ‘Asshole.’

‘Can make a girl cum so good, and she’ll still call you an asshole,’ he spoke, gripping your thigh to pull you back against his hips. ‘Maybe she’ll forgive me if I fuck her like she wanted me to last year.’

‘Stop fucking talking like that,’ you moved your hips away from him. ‘And no, you’re not fucking me here.’

‘Why not?’ He reached out for you, but you were already dodging him in an attempt to find your underwear. ‘No way you’re going to leave after I just made you cum all over my fingers.’

‘Yeah, well, thanks for the orgasm,’ your feet planted against the floor, and your shaky legs carried you over to the door. ‘Good luck fucking your fist.’

Unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable. He collapsed onto his back with a frustrated groan, light seeping into the room through where you’d left the door slightly ajar.

You swatted Jake’s hand away as he reached for the mouse. His own mouse, in all fairness. It was his computer, in his dorm. But this was your project.

‘Seriously, Y/N?’ He glared at you. ‘Didn’t realise you were so anal about all of this.’

‘Oh, funny word from the funny man,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘Seriously, do you think this is all some big joke?’

‘What, university?’ He snorted.

‘Hah, university,’ you mocked. ‘I mean, the fact that you keep taking the same class as me.’

‘Complete coincidence,’ he shot back. ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

‘Just let me do it, and I’ll stick your name on it at the end,’ you huffed as you swatted at his hand again.

‘Relax, I was just going to correct your spelling,’ he gently nudged you away. ‘Idiot. How’d you even spell ‘because’ wrong?’

‘Your keyboard is slippery,’ you glared, burning a hole into his side profile. His perfect side profile.

He laughed at that, almost as if he knew something you didn’t, and took his chance to take over the keyboard and mouse. You shoved him away, almost making him fall off the chair he’d borrowed from his communal kitchen.

‘I’m still mad at you, by the way,’ he spoke, watching as you typed away.

‘Mad at me?’ You repeated back to him. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Come on, don’t be dense,’ he was smiling as he looked at you. Your grip on his mouse tightened. ‘Leaving me all high and dry at that party.’

‘You do have a hand,’ you shrugged.

‘Yeah, but you have a perfect pussy,’ he smirked. You almost choked as you inhaled, coughing lightly.

‘Jake,’ you warned. ‘Focus.’

‘On what? You’re not letting me do anything!’ He threw his hands up in the air to get his point across, leaning back in his seat. His thighs were spread, and you had to avert your gaze to stop yourself from salivating. ‘Wanna take a break?’

‘No,’ you spoke firmly. ‘Go sit on your bed or something, you’re bothering me.’ Your hand shooed him away, and he forced a mocking pout up at you.

‘I was gonna order takeout or something later, you wanna get it now?’

‘No,’

‘Come on, Y/N. Play with me, I’m bored.’

‘Play with yourself,’

‘Oh, you wanna watch?’

‘Sim fucking Jaeyun!’

‘Hey, you owe me,’ he grabbed your face in one hand, turning you to face him. He squished your cheeks further together, finding you adorable. ‘Suck me off or something in return for me making you cum.’

You grimaced, pulling your face away from him. ‘Gross, Jake,’ you huffed.

‘Mm, okay, so you’ll be fine if I play with myself instead,’ he smirked. You immediately shot him a glare. ‘Oh, come on. This is my bedroom.’

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see that. Badly. ‘Okay, I’ll leave,’ you stood, pushing his desk chair back as you did so. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could move.

‘Stay, I’m just messing with you,’ he rolled his eyes.

‘I’m tired, and my brain hurts from doing all of the work,’ you huffed.

‘Then, let’s take a break,’ he pressed. ‘No funny business, I swear.’

How did Jake convince you to get up on his bed and lie down beside him? Your totally normal need to be close to him at this very moment, of course. Even if he did constantly piss you off.

‘Scoot over,’ you sighed, eyes drifting away from his laptop screen to see him already looking at you. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You’re pretty,’ he shrugged, his hand moving to land atop your thigh. He gently rubbed at your bare skin with a smirk on his lips. ‘Have I ever told you that?’

‘No, and I don’t wanna hear that bullshit again,’ you swatted his hand away.

‘Come on,’ he grabbed your thigh again, pulling you closer. ‘Stop pretending you’re not into me.’

‘You’re insufferable,’ your brows furrowed together in disdain.

‘Mm, yeah, but you like it,’ he smirked, his head propped up by his elbow. ‘Come on, kiss me. I know you want to. You’re a good kisser, I won’t mind.’

Your eyes rolled almost automatically. But still, your hand cupped the back of his neck before you pulled him down into a kiss. And he groaned into your mouth. God, did he turn you on.

He wasn’t letting you get away this time. He looped his arm around your thigh and pulled you flush against him. Was he ever not hard? The thought crossed your mind as he licked into your mouth, making you moan at the taste of the gum he’d been chewing earlier that night. The answer was simple. No, not when you were around.

You gripped the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it upwards to get a feel of his bare torso. He smiled against your lips, his own hand coming up to help you peel it off him. The kiss broke for mere seconds before his lips were back on you, not even giving you the satisfaction of seeing his bare chest and abdomen in all their glory.

Thanks to him, your leg was hooked over his hip in the perfect position for you to straddle him. So you did, knocking the wind out of his lungs as his back met the mattress. Much more comfortable than last year’s, you noted. He groaned as you placed hurried kisses along his jawline, neck and down to his bare torso, his hands slipping from your body as you made your way down to the buckle of his belt.

‘You want me bad, huh?’ He teased.

It took everything in you not to scream.

‘You want your dick sucked or not?’ You glared down at him. ‘Because I could just go home.’

‘You’re so cute when you’re mad,’ he leaned up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘But yeah, I want it. Badly.’

‘Slut,’ you joked.

You moved quickly to unbuckle his belt. He groaned every time your hand brushed against his clothed erection, as if he was some touch-deprived singleton incapable of finding some regular pussy. Which was untrue, as far as you knew. You unclasped the button on his jeans and unzipped them, eyes landing on his bulge beneath his boxers.

‘Don’t tell me you’re backing out now,’ he groaned with frustration at your pause, hands coming up to rub down his face.

‘Shut up, will you?’ You gritted out, tugging down the waistband of his boxers. His hips shifted in an attempt to help you, and then his cock came springing up, rock hard against his abdomen. Tip perfectly red and aching, leaking precum onto his skin. ‘Oh.’

‘Oh?’ He mocked. ‘First time you see my dick and you say ‘oh’?’

‘You make it so fucking easy to hate you,’ you breathed out.

‘Fine, whatever, I’ll shut up,’ he relaxed back against his bed. ‘Leave you to do your thing.’

You thought back to the party. How good it had felt when he touched you, how quickly he’d made you cum. Unsurprisingly, that fact got under your skin. It was almost like a challenge now. You wanted to do even better than he had.

Your hand wrapped around his length without hesitation, his body tensing at the contact. His tip was dripping precum, and you just had to taste it. Your lips met his leaking tip in a kiss, and then wrapped around it, your tongue chasing every drop of his precum.

‘Mm, fuck,’ he moaned.

Your mouth pulled away and you spat into your hand before jerking him off with a tight grip. Did he just whine? His head tilted back against the pillows, and you felt arousal pool in your panties. Cocky, confident Jake taken down by the mere touch of a woman. Well, not just any woman — you.

When you knew he was looking, you spat onto his tip, using more of your saliva to lube him up. He felt dizzy with delight. And then your lips returned to him, sucking him into your mouth.

‘Shit,’ his fingers wove their way into your hair. ‘Shit, your mouth feels so fucking good.’

Whether that was true or not, you didn’t care.

You took him all the way, gagging before he could even hit the back of your throat. He was big, but you weren’t going to make a deal out of it. His ego was in no need of inflation, and you didn’t want to be teased for not being able to take it. So you pushed further, nose pressing against his pelvis before you pulled off of him, breathless and eyes watery.

‘You good?’ Your eyes shot up to meet his gaze, a look of genuine concern on his face.

‘What, like I’m weak or something?’ You scoffed.

He quickly shut up when you went back to sucking him off. Cheeks hollowed, tongue against the underside of his shaft. Your hand wrapped around the rest of him, moving in tandem with your mouth as you really got into it.

Jake was a writhing, moaning mess under your touch. His hand was still in your hair, but he didn’t make a move to push your head. He was on thin ice around you, all of the time. Pushing your head would just be pushing his luck.

The way he moaned and cursed was doing a real good job of getting you wet. You wondered if it was for show, if he moaned like that because he knew women were into it. Curse him for apparently being some sort of sex god. But that wasn’t important. What was important was that sucking him off was getting you wet.

You’d given hook-ups and exes head for them. It was a way to make them feel good. Not once did you ever imagine soaking through your panties at the way you were making a man feel with your mouth. But here you were, shifting uncomfortably as you bobbed your head up and down on Jake Sim’s perfect cock.

His fingers tightened in your hair as you doubled your efforts. Your pace picked up, the sound filthy and lewd as you sucked him. The sound so wet that it made him moan even louder. You hummed and moaned around him, gripping him tight with the hand that was jerking off his base.

‘Holy fucking shit, Y/N,’ he whimpered, bucking up into your mouth. ‘You’re so good at sucking me.’

He twitched in your mouth as you moved to suck at his tip, your tongue gently swiping over his slit. A weak groan left his lips and he pushed you back down on him, his hot cum immediately shooting down the back of your throat. You tried not to gag. His moans were whiny and breathy as you swallowed around him, letting him hold you there until he went limp. So this is what he sounds like when he cums.

You pulled your mouth off him and caught your breath. Well, only for a moment before he was grabbing your face and bruising your lips in a kiss. The force of it pulled your body forward, making you stumble on your hands and knees up towards him. A sound of surprise left your lips as your hips landed flush against his own, his softening cock rubbing against your now-damp mini shorts.

Like a man possessed, he lifted your shirt up over your tits and hooked his fingers in the cups of your bra, tugging it down. You gasped into the kiss and his fingers moved to pinch your nipples. Your hips jerked forward and he whimpered, sensitive from the orgasm that was still thrumming through him in all honesty.

Both breasts exposed, he broke the kiss roughly to attach his lips to your nipple. Your back arched and you almost fell on top of him, needy moans falling from your lips.

‘Jake, what are you—?’ You gasped, hips jerking forward again.

He pulled away with a pop. ‘M’sorry,’ he breathed out. ‘Been thinking about your tits all week.’

Third Year

In your ideal world, it wouldn’t happen this way. But in the real world, it was going to.

‘Oh, fuck, don’t stop,’ you whimpered, two of Jake’s fingers pumping in and out of you as he licked at your clit. Side to side, every swipe pushing you closer and closer to the edge. ‘Jake, m’so—’

His fingers curled against your sweet spot and you moaned mindlessly, thighs tightening around his head. He didn’t let up, needing to make you cum at least once before he would let himself have you.

You never imagined your first time with Jake being at a time when you were both intoxicated, but then again, this was the third time you’d been drunk and involved in the motions of foreplay with him. Considering that was three out of four times… It was almost written in the stars that you’d be drunk when you and Jake finally hooked up.

After the incident in his bedroom last year, with the forced proximity of working on an assignment together, things just… Died off again. A phone call from a friend cut your time short and you left despite his weak protests. The assignment was completed via back-and-forth emails and when the semester was up, you had no more classes with Jake. You were disappointed, kind of hoping he’d switch a class out in search for one with you, but he didn’t. So things ended there.

And even though you were sure you had to have him, as the time went by, you realised he was literally just a guy. Even your high school self couldn’t bring you back into that obsessive need you had been feeling before he turned you down in your first year of university. You did want to sleep with him, but you weren’t the type to chase and beg. If the universe was against it, then so were you.

Right until he bumped right into you at the bar, knocking your drink over before you could even reach for it. He bought you another one, and then continued to eye-fuck you from across the room after you parted ways.

You were still you. A girl he knew in high school that seemed way too far out of his league. The girl he didn’t want to take the virginity of without her being completely sure. (Look how well that turned out.) The girl that made his heart incredibly weak, and his dick incredibly hard, but one of those facts would be taken with him to the grave. Jake decided on the spot, under flashing lights and booming music as he was nursing a whisky cola, that there would be no more waiting. No more bullshit, no more chances for you to physically shove him away. You were coming home with him.

‘Hey,’ he’d practically yelled over the music as he’d stopped in front of you. When your face fell into a disappointed frown, he’d felt a little bit nauseous with worry that you’d say no. He’d leaned in closer, talking directly into your ear. ‘Wanna come back to my place?’

The question was straight-forward and you were a simple girl. Yes, of course. When you’d taken his hand and followed him out of the club, you’d had the expectation that this would be it. One and done, once and for all. But your high school self bolted to the forefront of your mind and began to warm you up in a sing-song voice, about how this was it. The beginning of your love story.

‘So, what’ll it be?’ You spoke, as Jake hovered just inches above you now. His eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he looked down at you. His lips glistened with a mixture of his saliva and your juices.

‘What?’ He breathed out, diving in to press kisses along your chest. His hands cupped your tits through your dress, thumbs swiping over your clothed nipples and making your hips jerk up into his own.

‘What position do you want to feel me in for the first time?’ You rolled your eyes, as if it had been the most obvious question in the world.

‘Can’t we do all of them?’ He whined into your neck, his clothed dick humping against your inner thigh.

‘Did you even listen to me?’ If he wasn’t so cute, you would have already been out the door at his stupidity. ‘I said first.’

‘Oh, um,’ he pulled back to look down at you. ‘Would you get on top?’ For him? Anything.

Jake laid back and shuffled himself out of his jeans and boxers, then helping you out of your dress as your hips hovered just above his. Your hips landed flush with his own and you began to roll them, your slick coating his cock as you rocked back and forth. He couldn’t help but moan, having a death grip on your hips as he pulled you along.

But then he gently coaxed you back and spat into the palm of his hand, before jerking himself off for a few seconds. Your gaze was dark and hungry as you watched him, your hole clenching around nothing in anticipation. He asked you to lift your hips and then rubbed his head back and forth between your slit, the two of you gasping in unison as he did so. You looked down at him, and he was already looking back up at you. Silently asking for confirmation. A short nod was all it took.

‘Oh shit,’ he groaned, after pushing his tip into you. A shaky breath left your lips. He used a soft thrusting motion to push all the way into you, hand on your hip to keep you upright, or maybe grounded.

‘Mmph— Fuck—’ You slumped forward against his chest when he bottomed out, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck.

Maybe it had been a while since you last had sex, maybe Jake was just big and you had to come to terms with that. Either way, he was groaning in your ear every time you squeezed him, and it was impossible not to when he left you feeling so full.

‘You okay?’ His voice was strained with the effort of holding back.

‘Just give me a second,’ you nodded.

‘Alright,’ he gently squeezed your hip.

A year or two ago, Jake may have laughed in your face and felt his ego inflate in this very moment. But he wanted you. No, he needed you at this point. He wasn’t going to fuck it up by acting like an asshole just using you for the sex. Well, he sure was happy to be getting laid, but this was you. Infuriating, frustrating you. The girl who slammed his door on the way out without even questioning him when he rejected you. The girl who bit his head off for the first two semesters of his university career every time he was in the same classroom as you. Who snuck away with him at a party only to deny him and leave him embarrassingly hard in a stranger’s bedroom, who gave him the best head of his life and then hurried off to play saviour for a close friend. Who also got him a high grade in that assignment you did ‘together’. And who he hadn’t seen up close in almost a year, even though he’d desperately wanted to be around you.

But most importantly, the girl who he caught scribbling his name into the freshly opened the notebook one time. Who’d watched him play soccer without ever speaking to him, who’d blushed when he asked to sit next to you in math.

He’d seen you there at some party when university first started up, looking way more carefree and less tense than you did in high school. You were laughing with your friends and holding a red solo cup, and he smiled to himself when he recognised you. He didn’t even know you were going to attend the same university. You seemed to forget about how he approached you at the party, catching up with you briefly before telling you just how gorgeous you were. Like something out of a movie, the supposed love of your life leaned in to kiss you.

But what scared him was that he didn’t really know you. He knew you liked him, and he knew you were willing to sleep with him, but that was as far as his knowledge went. And taking advantage of your lingering high school crush felt wrong. He wanted to know you. Maybe he should have been nicer, told you he’d like your number before he told you he wouldn’t fuck you. Did first year Jake even have that in him?

But hey, good things come to those who wait.

You sat back, his glossy eyes following your movements. You attempted to move your hips, gripping at his shoulder at the sensitivity. With a huff, you buried your face in his bare chest in defeat.

‘Don’t think I can ride you,’ you mumbled.

‘Okay, uh… Missionary?’ His voice was slightly panicked. He did not want to let you go. Again.

‘Yeah,’ your voice was still muffled against his chest.

He prompted you to lift up and lie down, him hovering over you once more as he grabbed your thigh and tugged you closer. He rubbed your clit with his tip, smiling as he heard you moan weakly. You wanted to whack him and tell him to stop teasing, but you felt too relaxed from the alcohol and your own arousal to do so.

He pushed back into you slowly, watching your expression for any sign of discomfort.

‘You feel so fucking good,’ he praised as he hooked your thigh over his hip. ‘So tight, squeezing me so good.’

You clenched around him, and that he smirked at.

‘Oh, you like that?’ He teased, sliding his hips back. You moaned out as he thrusted back into you nice and slow. ‘Like hearing how good your pussy sucks me in?’

You threw your arm over your eyes and laughed softly. The sound of your laughter only served to bring a smile to his face.

‘Don’t get shy on me, baby,’ he pressed a kiss to your neck. ‘I’m literally inside of you.’

Your arms came up to loop around his neck and shoulders to hold him there. He began to move, slowly at first. But when you made no move to stop him, he began to pick up the pace.

He was loud, but not whiny like last time. He groaned in your ear, nails biting into the skin of your thigh. Before long, the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wetness pooling between your legs. Your moans grew in volume as he pounded into you, his breathless gasps and groans getting you impossibly wetter. You knew that cumming from penetration alone was rare, which is why you’d never been disappointed by the fact that you couldn’t. But with Jake, oh boy…

He pulled out and sat back on his knees, tugging you down the bed. He slid a pillow under your hips before he pushed back into you, gripping your thighs tightly.

‘Oh, god, Jake,’ your back arched, hand finding his shoulder to clutch onto. His thrusts hit your G-spot repeatedly, sometimes sliding to knock into your cervix right after. Your body was jolting and jerking, expression twisted with pleasure. ‘Think you’re gonna make me cum—’

‘Shit, really?’ He smirked. He was enjoying this far too much. The way your lips parted, the way you moaned for him, your face scrunching up in pleasure.

You groaned weakly, gently pushing your palm against his chest.

He brought one hand down to toy with your nipple, his other pressing on your lower abdomen. A soft whine left your lips and your hips bucked, the build-up becoming more and more intense. He wanted to kiss you as he made you cum, but it would fuck with the position and potentially ruin your orgasm.

Your thighs squeezed around his waist and you arched up, panting breathlessly. You fisted the bedsheet beneath you, legs trembling as you came. Your walls pulsed around him, squeezing him and making him groan. ‘Fuck, m’cumming—’

‘Fuck, baby, cum all over my cock,’ he gritted out, his thrusts softer as he simply watched you. His hand fell down to your clit, gently patting against it and making you cry out before you jerked away from his touch. ‘Shit, that was so hot.’

He pulled out of you again, making you whine. His gaze burned into the way the creamy fluid of your orgasm dripped out of you and all over his shaft. It was like his wettest dream became a reality.

‘You can keep going, right?’ He was already tossing the pillow aside.

‘Yeah— Jake!’ He flipped you flat onto your stomach, lying atop you. You didn’t get a second to process before he pushed into you from behind, forcing your mouth to drop open at the new angle. ‘Mmm, fuck.’

His hips repeatedly snapped against your ass, the sounds of skin on skin working to become louder as he grunted and groaned in your ear. ‘I would’ve done it, you know,’ he murmured, hand gripping your waist to push you further down into the bed.

‘Hm?’ You turned your head. He was quick to loop an arm around your neck, just barely choking you but forcing your head to remain straight.

His paced picked up, your moans turning into cries and near-screams as he repeatedly abused your hole. You were sure your ass would hurt in the morning from the way his hips were slamming against it.

‘Would’ve fucked that clueless look right off your face,’ he panted beside your ear. ‘But no, you just walked right out. Barely even questioned it.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Your eyes narrowed in confusion, but he tightened his arm around your neck in attempt to shut you up.

‘And Sunghoon, really?’ He groaned. ‘I bet he didn’t fuck you like this.’

Where was all of this coming from?

‘Jake—?’ You gasped as he released his hold on your neck. Instead, his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing harder. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back into your head.

‘Should’ve been me,’ his thrusts slowed. He fucked into you deeper, harder. Your body jerked forward every time he pressed into you. ‘Should’ve made this perfect pussy all mine from the start.’

He must’ve lost his mind. Oh well, you were enjoying him lay out his regrets for you.

His hand released your neck and he moved to hold himself up with one hand. The other gripped your waist again, pushing you down as he picked up his pace. When he started moaning breathlessly, you knew he was getting close. But you couldn’t do anything to help get him there, except lie there and take it. It being his jealousy- or maybe anger-fuelled pounding that had you clawing at the bedsheets and crying out for— Mercy?

‘Fuck, I’m so close,’ he gritted out, nails digging into your waist. ‘Gonna let me pump you full of my cum?’

‘Y-Yes,’ you gasped, noting how his thrusts stuttered and his cock twitched inside of you.

‘Fuck, Y/N,’ he moaned, forehead falling to your shoulder as he came deep inside of you. His thrusts continued, slow and soft as he groaned into your skin. You shuddered, his hot, sticky cum coating your walls. He pulled out then, watching until it began to drip out of you.

He could hardly help himself, stuffing two fingers back into you. You yelped, clenching around his fingers and attempting to scoot away from him. His coated fingers slid out of you and then tapped against your lips, silently ordering you to suck them clean.

‘How do we taste, baby?’ He teased as your lips wrapped around his fingers with a hum.

You grabbed his wrist and pulled his fingers away, gasping for air as you glared up at him. ‘I hate you,’

‘Seriously?’ He huffed, wiping his fingers on his sheets.

‘Yes, seriously,’ you groaned, shoving your face into the mattress.

‘Come on, I just fucked you so good,’ he tried to push you onto your back, but gently as to not provoke you.

‘Yeah, that’s the problem,’ you swatted his hand away.

‘The problem is that I fucked you so good that you hate me even more now?’ He raised a brow as you rolled onto your back.

‘Yes,’ you spat. ‘You’re telling me we could’ve been fucking like this for years now? And what was all that about you wishing it had been you? Ever heard of communication? You acted like it had never even happened in that first class we had together—’

‘C’mere,’ he chuckled softly, smothering you in a hug as he pulled you into his side.

Published by 11keu on Tumblr, 22nd January 2025.

NOTE. first fic on here!! lmk if u liked it or if u hated it and i should just deactivate alr.. kidding but i appreciate feedback good or bad so idk just interact w me :)

NOTE2. also lmk if u want a part 2 bc i like their dynamic so i’d be willing to do a continuation

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun smut #enhypen hard hours #enha hard hours

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wonryllis · 23 days ago

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PREVIEW2 : the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. 1.2k for this preview and around 20k for the whole fic.

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. some hot making out in this one, dad sunghoon tired bothered from work yes it's a warning. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

check out the first preview!

"is ji— " sunghoon stands again at your door, few days later on the weekend. this time more formally dressed than normal, adorning a sleek tight fitted vest and a navy blue blazer with buttons fastened at his waist. hair styled and glasses sitting prettily on his nose bridge. the sweat trickling down his forehead and the heaviness in his breath making you feel things despite knowing it's because he's worried about his daughter with how late he got back.

"she's here don't worry, just fell asleep while waiting for you," you reassure his distraught self. being a single and new father took a much harder toll on him at times like these when he couldn't be with his angel and he honestly didn't know how he'd survive if it weren't for you.

his job asked a lot of him and he couldn't always asks his friends and family to look over her, to have someone like you beside him was a breath of relief.

"i'm sorry, the meeting lasted longer than i thought and then traffic—" he tries explaining, wishing you aren't fed up of him and his daughter yet.

"it's okay sunghoon, everything's fine. do you wanna have some wine before you go?"

in hopes of easing his stress and let his mind have a rest, you offer in a feeble tone of expectation.

sunghoon nods, sighing as he takes off his shoes slow and tired. trudging behind you as you walk over to the fridge to bring out the heavy bottle. you look up to smile at him across the counter while he slips off his blazer and folds up his sleeves, there's no way he does not know what he's doing. but then loser clueless sunghoon really is not aware of the effect his exposed arms have on you. his friends and colleagues have told and he probably remembers it at the back of his mind, but the thing is, he is not really trying at this moment, he's just tired from work.

hot and bothered. and being alone with you in a room like this is just making him feel hotter.

it takes him a second but when he notices you struggle to get the wine glasses from the shelf, he does not think much before walking over and grabbing them for you. his body behind yours, chest touching your back and with his hands stretched out it's like you trapped between him and the counter. the scent of your shampoo hits his nose and that's what makes him realize just how close he is to you.

he stands still for a moment, trying to inhale as much of you as he can, but when he feels you shift, about to turn around, he's immediately snapping out of it; stepping back in an instant.

"i-i'm sorry, just noticed you needed help so," he mumbles apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck in shyness like usual and yet again unaware of how much you did not want him to be sorry.

"yes, thank you sunghoon," you smile at him despite the little tinge of frustration at the back of your subconscious.

leading him to the couch, and sitting awfully close to him on purpose you put the glasses on the tea table, pouring in the wine as you discreetly watch him shift nervously beside you. sunghoon feels distressed and troubled, once again he can smell you the tingles of white musk playing his nostrils. and he can also feel your thigh rubbing against his, albeit obstruct by the fabric of his suit pant, still very much obvious. perhaps the wine will help him calm down.

"so how was your day?" you hand him the glass, taking your own and staring at him as you take a sip, waiting for him to answer.

you listen in patience as he rants about how all that could go wrong went wrong at work. gazing over features, and the way his clothes hugged him right. at some point, his brows furrow and he starts to frown, looking towards the balcony as he speaks.

it bothers you for some reason, you don't want him to be so stressed. with the slight intoxication of the wine in your system, you reach forward to take his glasses off, putting them away on the table alongside your empty wine glass. and tugging him closer by his wrinkled tie leave a little wet kiss, a spilt second of a first move and sunghoon swears he feels all his hesitations disappear.

his breath slows down and his face relaxes for that short moment your lips touch, internally malfunctioning at the situation, short circuiting in stillness, wide eyes and unmoving lips.

however as soon as he sees at the dazed look in your doll eyes when you pull away, all his nervousness flies out, for all he can think of is the way your lips moved on his, and how addicting it felt, like something he wanted to feel every single moment he possibly could.

"fuck," he pulls you back by the back of your head, quite literally engulfing your lips in a sloppy kiss, going berserk over the feel of you. his hands are quick to slip to your thighs carressing up and down a few times before grabbing them to haul you onto his lap. it's a mess. he can't seem to stop, kissing over your lips over and over again in soft nibbles, sometimes dragging a moment to suck on them. hands once again carressing from your thighs to your waist, holding you tight in his arms by there, yanking you closer.

it takes everything in him to pull away but it's only to catch and breath and there's no way he's letting this chance go. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while your sweaty foreheads rest against each other.

just as he's leaning back in, still breathless,"dada?" the sound of jia's voice down the hall has you both immediately pushing away and sitting back down on the couch properly. sunghoon brushes back his wet hair and tugs at his tie before standing up to get his daughter.

"yes baby, dada's back. come on, let's go back," the way he picks her up and walks over to you makes your insides tingle, still not over the kiss.

"we're gonna be going then, thank you for—" sunghoon's eyes linger over the wine glasses and how messed up you look and he gulps before he continues,"having us over," his words sound deeper yet more innocent than the seductive meaning behind them.

you watch them walk out the door, waving jia and sunghoon good night as they unlock their front door and go in.

inside, his blazer still hung over the edge of the couch. a testament to the reality of all things that happened in the room. of it being more than just a dream. you enjoyed having jia over and taking care of her, it was never a nuisance and the fact that if you were to be together with sunghoon she would be your daughter too sounded more of a gift than a burden. you understood his situation, and despite not yet knowing of how and where jia's mom is, you trust him.

it was the start of a something sunghoon never wanted to end. and he could only hope you'd feel the same way. if only he knew how you felt.

#( 🍒 ) 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫!#thdnd #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagines

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smileysuh · 4 months ago

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dumb frat boy

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.”

tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3

Prologue

“I’ve got the best idea ever,” Hyuck says the moment after he’s released his first breath from the bong.

Johnny lets out a sigh, leaning back in his recliner. “This better not be another themed wet tittie car wash fundraiser.”

“Excuse me, that idea was brilliant- pairing up with our sister sorority and being horny on cars while in costumes that somewhat resembled cars from the Disney movie Cars made us more cash for the Humane Society than we’ve ever raised, so dial it down on your tone there, Ghostie.”

The elder frat boy rolls his eyes at the nickname. When word got out about how he wooed his girlfriend last Halloween, the term ‘Ghostie’ ended up sticking, and Johnny’s never been able to let down the sexy stalker angle, even this year's pledges know about it.

“As I was saying,” Hyuck continues, “I figure I’ll take a page out of your book, and do some weird phone call thing to woo my Angel.”

“Oh, so you’re finally gonna admit your feelings to your best friend?” Johnny asks in shock, sitting up to take a better look at the younger frat boy.

“Yes, but after a week of toying with her,” Hyuck announces. “It will be fun. We all know she got her nickname Angel because she’s really more of a demon, she’s going to love this shit.”

“Well, I guess you know her better than I do,” Johnny muses. “So what’s the plan?”

“Basically, you took the best phone call stalker with Ghost Face, but I figure there are other options out there. Have you ever seen Black Christmas?”

“Like… the one from the seventies?” Johnny’s apprehension is clear in his features, and he reaches for the bong to take another hit.

“Yeah, the one where the dude calls the sorority and is a horny fuck on the phone.”

“Isn’t there some weird incest plot and jaundice thing in the second movie though?”

“No one watches the second movie! We don’t claim the way they butchered the story with that!” Hyuck exclaims, feeling agitated already.

“I feel like, if you called her, and did the whole Black Christmas thing, she wouldn’t know what the fuck movie you’re referencing.”

“They did a remake in 2019,” Hyuck insists.

“Did anyone actually watch it though?” Johnny’s an avid horror film lover, and if he hasn’t seen the remakes, it’s not looking good for you to be able to pick up the references, a thought that throws Hyuck off.

However, even though he’s been swayed, Hyuck won’t give up on this idea. “Look, think of it as a Love is Blind sort of thing- I can make her fall in love with me over the phone, and then when I reveal myself as her best friend, she’ll be all ‘woah, we’re soulmates!’”

Johnny looks as skeptical as ever. “Are you sure that’s the way this is going to go?”

Hyuck scrunches his nose up in distaste at the lack of support. “Yes.”

The elder frat boy takes in a deep breath, shaking his head. “If this is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I just… I think your Angel would react better if you were just straight up with her. Maybe there’s a reason the two of you have never gone past the friend stage. I think the good thing about me doing this last year, was I was just acquaintances with Tiny, I made it clear off the bat that I just wanted to know her better. If she didn’t want me, then that would be fine. If you do this with Angel, and she finds out it’s you and doesn’t return your feelings, you’re going to ruin a friendship.”

Hyuck thinks about what Johnny’s just said as he watches the tall resident Ghostie take another bong hit. It’s true- In Hyuck’s heart of hearts, he knows that… there must be a reason the two of you have never hooked up, but it’s a reason he’s never been able to identify.

The cocky side of him refuses to believe it’s because you’re not attracted to him- there’s definitely sexual tension between the two of you, so it must be something else.

He’s so tired of toeing the line, especially since you’ve always been kindred, mischievous, horny little souls.

You were with Hyuck when he pranked Sigma Veta Tau last Christmas and put glitter on their ceiling fans. You were with Hyuck when he put a rotisserie chicken in Alpha Tappa Zeta’s air vents. In fact, you’ve been present at almost all of Hyuck’s master plan shenanigans.

There’s something going on between the two of you and he knows it.

Last year, when Johnny had pulled his little semi-stalker Ghostie stunt, Hyuck had noted that whoever was behind the anonymous calls had some balls to hit on a girl that way, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t live up to that.

“Listen,” Hyuck sighs. “This is between us. Angel is going to try to figure out who’s calling her, and I need you to keep your mouth shut, okay?”

“Fine,” Johnny agrees, shaking his head. “Hyuck, I love you, but sometimes I forget how much of a dumb frat boy you are.”

“You know what?” Hyuck grabs at the bong. “I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.”

Sunday

You’re in the middle of a much-needed nap. Curled up on your fuzzy blankets, your textbook long since discarded while your mood lighting twinkles through the space, it’s the most comfortable you’ve been all term. It’s late October, the nights come early, and you’re starting to not mind the cool air that seeps through the crack in your window.

It’s because you’re dead asleep, that when your phone rings, you don’t even check who’s calling. You simply bolt up, dazed and confused, reaching to pull your cell to your ear.

“Hello?”

At first, all you hear is breathing on the other end of the line, and you roll your eyes. You’re no stranger to dumb calls, spam calls, and the like- but then, “Angel?”

Well, this is definitely not a spam caller, they wouldn’t know your nickname if it was.

“Who’s this?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to look down at your screen. It’s a ‘No Caller ID,’ and you let out another exasperated sound.

“A friend,” the person on the other end of the line tells you.

“A friend I don’t have in my contacts?” you scoff.

“Burner phone, baby.”

“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“Why so serious, Angel?”

“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”

“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”

“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”

“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.”

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff.

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”

“Never even heard of it.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.”

“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.

“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”

“What’s The Black Phone movie?”

“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?”

You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”

“I one hundred percent do!”

“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”

“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?”

“And what does this accomplish? I mean- we all know Johnny’s Ghostie story from last year, he called a girl every day, told her to come to his frat party, and revealed himself there. Is that your game plan?”

“I was thinking about it, but it sounds kind of lackluster now.”

“That’s because it’s not an original idea at all,” you point out.

“Sequels aren’t always original,” the man counters. “Lots of movies have the same plot just different characters, some recurring- look, it doesn’t have to be original. The original angle to this Halloween movie is that I’m going to be way more horny than Johnny probably ever was last year.”

“And I’m just going to allow that?” you grin.

“Yeah, because we both know why you have your nickname, don’t we, Angel? You’re a dirty little minx, and you’re going to love this.”

“Except, what if, Halloween comes, and you’re a frat guy that I think is ugly?” you ask. “If you know me, you know I have very specific tastes. There’s only a handful of guys I’d actually be interested in, what makes you think you’re one of them?”

The line is dead for a few stagnant seconds, then, “I just am, okay?”

“Cocky little fucker,” you giggle.

“Don’t be rude.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure you know who’s on the other end of the line.

There’s been a few tells from your best friend, Donghyuck. For example, he’s the biggest actual horror buff in the NCT frat. He idolizes Johnny, and was always salty that Mark got the Chicago man as a Big and not himself, so he had a close eye on the events that took place last year in NCT’s ‘Ghostie’ Saga. On top of all of this, there’s an extreme familiarity in the way he’s talking to you, a preexisting natural tint to his diction. Lastly, Hyuck’s the cockiest little dumb frat boy of them all, and it’s one of the reasons you’ve always loved him… one of the reasons you’ve also always kept a bit of distance from your best friend whenever situations have had the option of turning romantic.

Well, if this is how he wants to make his move at you, so be it.

Maybe he’ll convince you that he can be more than a good fuck- you’d never risk your friendship for a one-night stand, no, he’ll have to prove that he could go all in, that he deserves you.

And if all else is just extra, you can at least have some fun toying with Hyuck while he thinks he’s the one toying with you.

“Okay,” you sigh, stretching. “Let's do this, but we can start tomorrow, you woke me up from a nap, and I’d very much like to get back to it.”

Monday

“I’m not waking you up from a nap, am I, Angel?”

“Nope,” you grin, mischief working its way through your mind as you think of the best way to throw Hyuck off. “I was just watching some porn, flicking the bean, you know, that sort of thing.”

You hear him choke. “F… Flicking the bean?”

“Come on, you have to have heard of flicking the bean!” you insist. “Buddy, you’re the one who’s supposed to be calling me to be horny, this is your perfect opportunity!”

“Right, I uh…” he coughs. “How’s… how’s the bean flicking going?”

“Dude, do you know anything about seduction?” you scoff. “‘How’s the bean flicking going,’” you imitate. “Lame!”

“Rude!” he counters.

God, he’s so obviously Hyuck and you bet he doesn’t even realize it.

“You know what, if you must ask, the bean flicking is going really well.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” he questions next.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease.

“Tell me,” Hyuck insists.

“Might have to get you to beg if you want to hear those kinds of details.”

“I’m the creepy phone stalker, I call the shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure you do, buddy.”

“Stop calling me buddy.”

“Okay, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude either!”

“Then what am I supposed to call you? It’s not like anyone knows the name of the slasher from Halloween Christmas, or whatever. You’re no Ghost Face, friend.”

“It’s Black Christmas,” he corrects you. “And I’m pretty sure his name is Billy.”

“Wow, how sexy, Billy,” you scoff. “You really didn’t think this one through that well, did you, buddy?”

“Original Ghost Face is who? Stu Matcher and Billy fucking Loomis,” Hyuck points out. “It’s not the worst name in the world.”

“Tell me one person who refers to Ghost Face as Billy Loomis though, one person, and I’ll tell you what porn I watch.”

“The… screenwriter?”

“Jesus Christ, dude. That’s such low-hanging fruit.”

“Now tell me what porn you watch.”

You let out a deep sigh. “All this bickering has me not in the mood anymore.”

“Weird, I’m extra in the mood now.”

“Cuz you’re a weirdo who gets off on play fighting, I bet.”

His voice takes on a whiney pitch when he says, “Tell me what porn you watch!”

“Honestly?” You’re tired of this conversation, but you see one last opportunity to toy with Hyuck before you hang up. “Hentaid on Porn Hub, I’m all about that alien, tentacle shit,” your voice takes on the air of a damsel in distress when you muse, “No mortal man can ever satiate me, I’m afraid.”

“Holy shit,” Hyuck whispers. “Are you for real? Tentacle porn?”

“Uh huh, now, goodnight, buddy.” You hang up on Hyuck with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing you’ve left him something to think about.

Tuesday

“Hey,” you say, sitting down next to your best friend in the on-campus burger joint where you spend your Tuesday two-hour period between classes. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

Hyuck is mid-bite of a burger, and he holds up a hand, covering his obnoxious eating style. “Just a sec,” he mumbles.

You wait patiently, staring at your friend while he finishes up. He’s in a black hoodie, and black t-shirt, and his laptop is open next to where he’s eating his combo meal. He’s usually here before you are, scoping out a booth and food so you two can chill in peace before your shared history course.

History isn’t your major per se, it’s more of a special interest, and the same goes for Hyuck. He’s a film major- another obvious dent in his plan to fly under the radar as your phone stalker who just happens to know everything about horror movies.

“Okay,” Hyuck says, swallowing the last of his large bite of food. “What’s up?”

“So on Sunday, I got a phone call from some dude with a burner phone,” you explain, watching closely as Hyuck’s brows raise just a moment too late to be legitimate surprise.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“He’s trying to recreate Johnny’s whole Ghostie thing from last year, but as is the case with most sequels in the horror genre, he’s kind of missing the mark.”

Hyuck chokes a little on his food, and he reaches for his Coke to wash it down. “What’s he doing wrong?”

“What an odd question, Hyuck,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “But, to answer it, he’s just… not loose enough. He feels too rigid. I gave him an in last night, if you know what I mean, and he just, fumbled it.”

“An in?” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“You know, an opportunity to be horny with me.”

“And you want him to be horny with you?”

“I mean, that’s the whole point isn’t it? He promised me he’d be more horny than Johnny was last year, but I feel like Johnny probably had this whole daddy dom thing down- I don’t know what this new guy is trying to give, but he’s not giving, you feel me?”

“Huh, that’s weird,” Hyuck shrugs, picking up his burger again. “Do you have any guesses who it might be?”

You shrug. “He told me it was someone I think is hot. So that means it could be Jaehyun- God, you know how sexy I think Jaehyun is,” - you’re relishing in the way you get to tease Hyuck like this - “it could be Jeno, or Jaemin- I don’t think I’d even mind if both of them came up to me on Halloween, full original Scream style- Jaemin is definitely the Stu Matcher character, though.”

“Jeeze, Angel,” Hyuck grimaces, putting his burger down and leaning back in the booth. “Do you have to talk about two of my best friends tag teaming you while I’m eating?”

“Sorry, babes,” you snicker. “I just think this week is going to be fun, and I can’t wait for my Billy Halloween Christmas stalker to find his A-game.”

You half expect Hyuck to correct you on the movie title, and you see him bite his tongue, fighting the urge to throw his own cover under the bus in a bid to protect the sanctity of cult films. But alas, Hyuck shuts himself up with another bite of his burger, and with one last look at your friend, you pull out your laptop to actually get some work done.

Wednesday

“Hey, bud,” you answer your call with a grin, twirling your hair around your finger while your eyes skim your textbook. “What happened yesterday? You never called.”

“You looked busy,” comes a curt retort.

“Oh… did you see me with Hyuck?” you stifle a laugh, of course he’s going to play this jealousy angle, when in reality, he was probably just butthurt about you toying with him.

“It was hard not to notice you with him,” he responds.

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“What’s your relationship with him?”

God, Hyuck must be very desperate to be trying to get details out of you about how you feel about him, through his alter ego.

You take a deep breath, closing your book and leaning back in your chair. “We’re close,” you start.

“But just friends.”

“Just friends,” you confirm. “I guess, I mean, obviously he’s cute. There’s no argument about Hyuck being cute. And he’s fun, he’s cocky, he’s mischievous- I guess my one concern with him is if he could do something long term. I may come off as a dirty little demon child, but in reality- I don’t want to put all my eggs in one guys basket if he’s busy collecting eggs, if that makes any sense.”

“You want a guy who just wants you, who puts in the effort.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m putting in effort,” your ‘mystery man’ points out.

“I suppose this could be considered effort.”

“I spent twenty five bucks on this burner phone.”

“Wow, buddy, that must have broke the bank.”

“I have money!” he insists.

Hyuck definitely has money, it’s one of the reasons he’s probably so cocky. He comes from a large line of Lee’s, a family group that owns development all around the country. You’ve tried not to let any gold digging inklings stain your perception of the frat boy though, that wouldn’t be fair to him.

“Hey, friend?” you ask, choosing a base level nickname for this man who is clearly Hyuck.

“Yes, Angel?”

“Were you thinking about it yesterday?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Me, you know… watching alien tentacle porn and flicking my bean.” You try to make your voice sound innocent, but you can’t help the mischievous grin that works it’s way onto your face.

You can hear him swallow thickly. “Hold that thought, I’m going to call you back.”

“Wait-” before you can get an explanation, the line goes dead, and you release an annoyed huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He’s such a little shit, leaving you hanging like this-

Two minutes go by, then five- and just as you’re starting to be really annoyed, Hyuck calls you back.

“Took you long enough,” you snap.

“Listen, Angel, I needed to get in the mood. I’m too rigid talking to a pretty girl like you, had to take some of the load off.” You can tell, even under his modulated voice, that Hyuck has most definitely just gotten into some weed.

This is so classic him- and to be completely fair, you’ve witnessed the effects of Mary-Jane on one mister Lee Donghyuck. He’s much more suave while green, less anxious, more willing to take risks.

“So, to answer your question,” Hyuck continues, letting out a breath. “I have been thinking about you. Been thinking about your cute voice, how it would sound begging, whining, whimpering- what little noises you’d make choking on cock, or tentacle-” Hyuck laughs. “I’ll be honest, I don’t have an octopus dick or anything. If you let me, you’ll have to be okay with a human style back breaking.”

You’re shocked.

Had he really just said all of this to you?

Was weed all it took for him to pull up his big boy panties and lay some actual sin onto you?

You can’t ignore the way your pussy flutters with interest at his words, and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I’m sure we can make it work… what kind of tool are you packing, buddy?”

Hyuck chuckles. “It’s thick, I think it will do the job.”

Hyuck isn’t the tallest frat boy, but in no way is he the smallest either. He’s average, and to think that he has an above average girthy dick- well, you can’t help lick your lips in interest.

“Stalker got your tongue, Angel?” Hyuck asks. “You’ve just gone awfully quiet.”

“I’m just…” you swallow thickly. “Just thinking.”

“About my thick cock splitting you open?”

God, your pussy is throbbing now- “How… our first few calls were so awkward-”

“I promised you dirty, didn’t I? Needed some courage first, but… I can tell you’re not mad about it.”

You’re definitely not mad about it.

You think maybe part of you would be upset if you didn’t know your ‘mystery caller’s’ identity- but the safety of knowing, in your heart of hearts, that this is Hyuck- it changes everything, and you can allow yourself to feel the pleasure already beating through you.

“I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.”

“So…” you find it hard to even speak because he’s so right about his assessment that it hurts. “So… you’re more of a switch?”

“I can be. Generally, I’m not about strict roles in the bedroom, but if you’re into that sort of thing, I can see what it’s about.”

“Tell me more about being a switch?”

“Don’t want to give you too many details about myself, these calls are about you, Angel.”

You let out a groan.

“Be patient,” he reminds you. “And tell me, are you as wet right now as I am hard?”

This time, the sound you release is really more of a moan, and it makes Hyuck chuckle darkly.

“I’ll take that as a yes… are you gonna touch yourself after this? Gonna do all the work I can’t do, not yet, anyway.”

“Maybe…”

“I like the thought of that, two horny people, whacking off together after a phone call, different rooms, but we’ll be on each other’s minds.”

You get the suspicion that Hyuck is going to be on your mind for a whole lot longer than simply your upcoming bean-flicking session.

Thursday

“I’m here, I’m here! What’s the emergency!” Mark asks, out of breath, his cheeks flushed from the cold outside and having just run across campus.

“It’s not an emergency, don’t worry, just sit!” you tell him, pushing out a chair.

“Angel, you texted me, and I quote,” he pulls out his phone, “911, meet me at our spot in the library asap.”

“Well, I wanted you to come,” you shrug.

“God, you’re as much of a drama queen as Hyuck is,” Mark sighs, taking his seat across from you.

“Speaking of Hyuck…” you grin, leaning forward and clasping your hands together, “your roommate decided to go full Ghostie this year.”

“Wait, he’s not doing Ghost Face for Halloween-”

“No, I mean, like, stalker phone call Johnny Ghostie,” you clarify.

“What?” Mark’s expression is blank, and he looks completely unimpressed.

“Basically, he called me on Sunday, did this whole thing about doing a Black Christmas character or some shit- he’s been calling me from a burner phone with a voice modulator-”

“Jesus Christ,” Mark sighs, covering his eyes with his hand.

“The moral of the story is, Halloween night, I’m calling dibs on your room.”

“My room?” Mark peaks out at you through his fingers.

“Your roommate has to get laid. Actually, scratch that, I have to get laid… with your roommate.”

“This is so-” Mark groans. “I thought we were over this stalker Halloween thing to get girls. Don’t any of us have respect or standards anymore?”

“You’re frat boys, Mark, so the answer on that one is going to be a no from me.”

“Why are you even into this?” Mark questions further. “Like- what’s so sexy about any of this?”

“I mean… it shows Hyuck cares?”

“He cares enough to get a burner phone and a voice modulator and call you and be creepy and horny? Wow, what a huge chivalrous act of love.”

You narrow your eyes at Mark Lee. “I’m not enjoying your sarcasm, mister.”

“And I’m not enjoying this,” Mark retorts, pointing between the two of you. “Fuck, fine, have my room on Halloween.”

“Last thing though, Hyuck can’t know that I know that he’s the one calling me.”

“Wait, so this isn’t a bit? He’s committed to trying to trick you?” Mark leans back in his chair, his expression getting even more bleak. “The two of you are crazier than I thought.”

As you open your mouth to respond, your phone rings, and you look down to see Hyuck’s burner ‘No Caller ID.’

“Heya, buddy,” you answer, bringing your finger to your lips to shush Mark.

“Watcha up to?”

“Just in the library with a friend.”

Hyuck’s tone shifts. “Which friend?”

“Mark, you probably know him.”

“Of course I know fucking Mark. Why’s he with you?”

“Just chatting… why? You jealous?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!” You let out a laugh. “Buddy, settle down, we both know I’m not into Mark Lee, we’ve talked about this before.”

“We’ve never talked about Mark,” Hyuck responds, and you realize, you may have just betrayed that you know who he is-

“I mean, he wasn’t on my list with Jaehyun, or Jeno, or Jaemin-” you quickly cover your blunder, and Hyuck releases an annoyed sound.

“I get it, I get it,” he groans. “Fine, finish up your time with fucking Mark, then.”

“Don’t be salty about this,” you warn.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Friday

It’s the final day before Halloween, and if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Hyuck is working. The SVT and NCT frats are the primary workers at the on-campus bar, Skeets, so they have a deal that NCT works the Friday before Halloween, and SVT works the Saturday.

Knowing these details, you’re also aware that it’s possible Hyuck won’t be home till three am, so you’re a little shocked when you get a call at one.

“Hi, Angel.”

“If it isn’t my favorite stalker,” you grin, pausing your horror film- in all truth, you’d decided to watch Black Christmas, and now you can see why Hyuck told you not to bother, he hasn’t nailed the deranged attitude of the main villain at all.

“Watcha doin?”

“Not much, you?”

“Not much,” he responds.

“Are you sure?” you counter. “Cuz something tells me maybe you’re working right now… did you get a break, buddy?”

“I’m not working,” he insists.

“Sure you’re not,” you laugh, dropping the line of questioning. “Hey, tell me again why you chose Billy from Black Christmas?”

“Seriously?” Hyuck lets out a sigh. “I guess I just wanted… an excuse to be horny on the phone for you, even if it’s just for a week.”

He sounds defeated, and you’re not shocked. Halloween is the busiest night of the year at the bar Hyuck works at, if anything, you’re surprised he even had a moment to dip outside and call you.

“You’re cute,” you muse. “You sound tired, so I’ll let you go, but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You will.”

“And how will I know it’s you?”

“You just will, goodnight, Angel.”

Saturday

You’ve just arrived at the frat party, and already, you’re on the hunt for Hyuck.

At this point, you’re tired of the games. You feel closer to Hyuck, in some odd, sinister sort of way- closer than you ever have before. And you’re tired of hiding it, tired of this weird cat and mouse- you just want to have a conversation with him, to get everything out into the open so you can truly discuss your feelings.

You find him by the beer pong table. He’s in a full denim fit, and you can’t put your finger on who he is as you approach.

“Hey, Hyuck,” you greet, tucking into his side so he can hear you over the music. “Nice Canadian Tuxedo.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asks.

“Uh…” You look at him blankly. “Are you talking about your denim costume? Or the way you’ve been calling me all week?”

Hyuck stares at you in shock. “Uh…” he clears his throat. “I’m Ken… you know, from the Barbie movie.”

“Right…” you trail off, wondering if he’s going to touch on the Black Christmas side of things.

“Also… what do you mean? About me calling you all week?”

“Hyuck,” you sigh. “Please don’t try to avoid this. Just be honest. It’s you. I know it’s you.”

He looks at you, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind.

“You told me you’d reveal yourself tonight,” you continue. “I know I kind of just threw you under the bus, maybe I ruined your master plan or something, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t know it’s one of my best friends who’s been calling me all week being horny.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice lowering. His eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to get a read on you.

“Hyuck,” you let out a laugh, “I’m not mad at all, but I think we should go to your room and talk this out a little, don’t you?”

“I guess that’s a good idea,” he acquiesces.

“Then let’s go.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers so you can drag him to the stairs that lead to the second floor. You don’t say anything as you move, you’re on a mission, and what you need to discuss with him is better said alone than in a crowd of horny Halloween partygoers.

You make it to the privacy of his room, and you shut the door behind you. “So?”

“So?” Hyuck moves through the space, and you notice him heading for his bong.

“Hey, don’t do that,” you sigh.

“Don’t do what?” he asks.

“You don’t need to get high to have this conversation.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t want you to be high when we do this.”

Hyuck lets out another deep breath. “This isn’t how I planned things.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” you admit, watching him take a seat on his bed. “How did you see tonight panning out?”

“I suppose I figured I could get some drinks in, liquid courage, that sort of thing. And then, maybe I’d reveal myself at the end of the night or something.”

“Are you really so scared of me that you need to be drinking to confess how you feel?” you ask, melting a little. You approach Hyuck, sitting carefully on the bed next to him while he faces clear inner turmoil.

“I’m not afraid,” he states, but you can tell from the tone of his voice that there’s something else going on. “I just… You told me you only want a man who can commit, a guy who only has eyes for you- and, I do, but… we both know my playboy track record, and I guess… I just worry about hurting you.”

“Do you want to hurt me?” you question, tilting your head as you try to understand him.

“No, never.”

“Do you think you’re at the point where you could settle down a little? I’m not trying to get you to stop partying, I just mean… committing to one girl, is that something you think you’re capable of?”

“If it’s you, then yeah… I think so,” he nods, finally meeting your eyes.

He looks so vulnerable, and it’s very different from how you usually view your mischievous friend.

“Hyuck,” you whisper, unable to help the way your hand raises to cup his cheek. “I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. If there’s something real here, and it’s not just you being a horny, dumb frat boy.”

“Okay, rude,” Hyuck laughs, showing you a glimmer of the him that you know and love, “It’s more than being horny… but… in all honesty, seeing you in this fucking faerie costume has me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” You lean closer, grinning. Your lips ghost over his when you say your next words, “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Hyuck sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating- you’re so close to him, and you can make out all the pretty shades of brown in his irises. Gosh, he really is a pretty frat boy.

His hands find your hips, and he tugs your body closer. You can feel him breathing, his gaze darting between your own and your mouth. You watch his tongue dip out to wet his lips, and he swallows thickly.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, finally smashing his lips to your own.

It’s not gentle by any means, but it’s not necessarily aggressive either- one word to describe this kiss, is: desperate. He’s so eager, and you kind of love it, love the way he tugs you flush to his own body, one hand moving to cup your cheek- his tongue glides against your own and you stifle a moan, shifting in his embrace so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

It feels so good to be pressed against him like this- you’re actually kind of shocked at how good it feels. And his hands, exploring your body, keeping you close, fingers digging into your hips-

Hyuck is everywhere, devouring you like you’re his last meal.

“Oh,” you whisper, when Hyuck’s mouth moves to your neck. “By the way, I called dibs on your room with Mark, he won’t be bothering us.”

Your dumb frat boy pulls away from your throat, a grin on his face. “You really knew it was me all along, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, buddy,” you laugh.

Hyuck shakes his head, reaching to lock the door before his hands ensnare you again. He pushes his body against yours, urging you to move backward until your calves hit the bed. Before pushing you down, he removes your faerie costume wings, and only once the more delicate part of your costume is discarded, does he shove you onto his mattress.

“Hyuck,” you giggle, looking up at him with starry eyes.

“You look so good like this,” Hyuck muses, tugging his denim ‘Ken’ style vest off to reveal a body hardened from Frat mandated work out brother time. He’s not too big, not too built- Hyuck still has some pudge on him, but you kind of love it. You love that it’s not a full six pack and bulging biceps- you can imagine that when this is all done, he’ll be lovely to cuddle with.

In fact, you’re not sure it would matter how muscled Hyuck is. Sure, it helps that he’s physically fit and hot, but- at this point in your friendship, you’re attracted to him for so much more than his body.

No man makes you laugh like him. No man has spent the time that he has to understand you and make you feel comfortable with him knowing you, the true you, the you that you don’t get to show many others.

Hyuck is just… he’s good for you, and he always has been. That goodness has so far been a friend capacity sort of thing, but you’re excited about the new development in your relationship. You think there’s true potential with him, and it makes you dizzy as you stare up at one of your best friends.

“I kind of want to eat you out, Angel,” Hyuck admits, one hand finding your thigh and pushing your short dress even higher up your leg.

“Funny, I kind of want to suck you off,” you grin, lifting one foot out of your shoe to tease your toes across the front of his jeans.

“So… sixty-nine?” Hyuck asks, gently tracing his fingers across your exposed skin, setting tingles of pleasure off to erupt and skitter through your form.

“That would work, but… I guess… I kind of want to lay with my head lolled off the side of the bed, your cock in my mouth, and your fingers pinching at my nipples while I work my own clit at the same time.”

“Jesus,” Hyuck breathes, swallowing thickly as he looks up at you. “How could I say no to that?”

“Then, when I’m close to cumming, you can eat me out, get me there, then fuck me stupid for your own release.”

“It’s funny,” Hyuck chuckles, “Here I thought I was the horny one calling you and trying to be a creep, but you’re the one with the dirty mouth and the great ideas.”

“Yeah, your whole Black Christmas thing really wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever heard,” you tease.

“How many times do I have to admit it was a shitty plan but I just wanted to get close to you?”

“At least once more.”

“Fine. Now flip around, loll your head off my bed, let me put my cock down your throat and pinch your nipples while you toy with your cute pussy.”

“How do you know my pussy is cute?” you ask. “You haven't even seen it yet.”

“I’ve been imagining, baby, and as a film major, my imagination is pretty fucking good.”

You giggle, getting into position for Hyuck. He stands near your head as you loll it off the side of the bed, and you get a good view of his bulge straining in his jeans.

“You’re excited,” you muse, cupping him through the denim.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he laughs, undoing his button, then the zipper. “Fuck, you look so good laid out like this.”

“Yeah?” You pull the top of your dress down, releasing your boobs.

“Fuuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pausing his motions on his jeans to reach down and massage your newly exposed breast. “I knew your tits would be perfect.”

You moan at the feeling of his warm hands. His fingers pinch at your nipple and your moan turns into a whine. “Feels good.”

“You feel good,” he counters.

“Get your cock out,” you instruct, feeling impatient.

“Start rubbing your pussy,” Hyuck retorts with a laugh.

“Yes, sir,” you respond teasingly, reaching one of your hands down to your thighs. You slip it under your dress, deciding on taking your panties off alltogether.

Hyuck continues to massage you as you pull off your thong.

You can’t help yourself, you toss it at him, and Hyuck lets go of your breast in favour of catching it. “Fuck, these are cute,” he says, admiring your panties.

“I knew I’d be getting laid.”

His tone shifts to the darker, more annoyed side of things. “Yeah?”

“And don’t get all angsty, I knew I’d be fucking you tonight.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Hyuck grins, putting your panties in his pocket before he undoes his jeans, shifting them down his thighs.

The fucker isn’t wearing underwear, and you get a good view of his cock for the first time.

“Fuck, dude, you weren’t lying when you said you were thick,” you muse, licking your lips.

“I’d never lie to you about my cock,” he laughs.

You slip one hand between your thighs, stroking your wet core- it’s crazy how turned on you are from this, but part of you thinks this has been building for a while- for a week, actually.

Hyuck strokes his cock, looking down at you. “Ready for this?” he asks.

“Put it in my mouth,” you command, opening wide for him.

“If I’m going to deep, push my thigh,” he tells you as he slips his cock past your lips.

You moan a sound of affirmation around him, immediately beginning to suck on his tip, getting used to his size before you take more.

Hyuck is surprisingly gentle with how much he’s allowing you to take. If you hadn’t been pacing yourself, you’re sure he’d be pacing you of his own accord.

One of his hands finds your breast again, pinching the nipple and sending jitters of pleasure down to your throbbing core.

You groan louder around him, sucking more into your mouth as you increase the pressure on your clit.

“This is so fucking hot,” Hyuck moans, thrusting gently into your mouth so you can lay flat and still, allowing him to do most of the work while you rub your pussy deliciously.

You can only let out a sound of affirmation as he uses your mouth.

With your eyes closed, you can focus fully on the feeling of pleasure that’s building inside of you.

When you’d imagined fucking Hyuck for the first time, this hadn’t necessarily been a position at the forefront of your thoughts- but when he’d suggested eating you out, you’d realized this is exactly what you’d wanted.

You want to give back to him, want to show him how much you’ve appreciated him taking the leap and telling you how he feels- even if it was in some weird, dumb frat boy, phone call kind of way.

The way he’s pinching your thighs is actually delicious- and then, you hear him spit, and you feel the cool liquid hit your chest. This time, when he rubs his thumb over your nipple, he spreads his spit across your skin, making it even more intense.

“Part of me just wants to cum on these perfect tits,” he admits.

You make a very clear sound of disagreement, and Hyuck pulls his cock out of your mouth. You’d been salivating so much that as he moves away, your own saliva drips back down onto your face from his length. You swallow thickly, finding your voice. “Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Fuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pinching your nipple even harder. “You and your creampie kink.”

He slips his cock back into your mouth, and you greedily eat him up.

Then he leans further over your body, his fingers joining yours on your core. “You’re so fucking wet,” he muses, pushing your hand out of your way so he can rub your clit, gently fucking your face as he does so.

It’s a shallow face fucking, as he’s bent over your laid down body to access your core, but you don’t mind.

Your eyes are still closed, and you’re enjoying every sensation, bringing your free hands up to your breasts to massage them and pinch your own nipples.

“You look so sexy, want you to cum so bad so I can fuck you stupid,” he tells you, rubbing your clit even harder.

You rut your hips up toward his hand, a non verbal motion that tells him you’re close.

God, it’s like he’s been in your pants before- he knows exactly how to stroke and massage your clit-

“And you’re still sucking me off so good-” he continues. “And grabbing at your tits too, you’re my insatiable little Angel, aren’t you?”

You moan deeply around his cock, and Hyuck fucks you a little harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, feeling tears in your eyes.

“Shit, sorry, Angel, fuck, that just felt so good- can I do it again? Can I fuck your throat again?”

You make a sound of affirmation, shocked at how your body had reacted to his cock being fully inside of your mouth. A tingle of excitement had run through you, your nipples getting intensely sensitive, your core throbbing-

Hyuck does it again, hitting the back of your throat, and the same sensation happens. You can feel yourself getting desperately close to the edge, and you hardly have to do anything. Other than pinching your own nipples, Hyuck is the one taking care of you, and you kind of love it.

“I can tell you’re close, Angel,” Hyuck chuckles. “Fuck, gonna cum from me fucking your face and rubbing your clit, right?”

You moan desperately, wiggling your hips. Hyuck reads your cue, rubbing your clit even harder.

Now, you can’t help but pull off his cock, pushing his thigh to give you a bit of space.

“You good?” he asks, motions pausing.

“Yeah,” you tell him, swallowing thickly as you grab his cock to stroke him off. “Just keep- fuck, keep rubbing me like that, I’m so close-”

“Fuck this,” Hyuck mutters, and all of the sudden, he’s pulling away.

You let out a whine- only for him to spin you on his bed. He sinks to his knees, drawing your core to the edge where your head had just been, then he dives in, his lips immediately suctioning around your clit.

Two fingers push into your aching core and you whimper desperately, grabbing at his hair to keep him on your pussy as he works you closer and closer-

“Hyuck-” you cry out, muscles clenching-

One more slurp on your clit has you topping over the edge, entire body electrified by the orgasm surging through you.

You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds as he works you through your high. He doesn’t quit, doesn’t pull away- he sucks your clit through your entire high, until your thighs are shaking on his shoulders and you’re on the verge of tears.

“Okay-” you whimper, pushing at his head. “Sensitive-”

Hyuck finally lets up. You open your eyes to watch him stand, pulling his fingers from your core and sliding them into his own mouth.

“You taste just like Halloween candy, baby,” he muses, eyes clouded with lust.

“I wanna taste,” you whisper.

Hyuck pushes his jeans completely off, and then he gets on top of you, smashing his lips to your own. The flavour of your pussy is hot on his tongue, and it invades your senses, driving you wild as you kiss him deeper, threading your fingers through his hair.

His cock nudges between your pussy lips as he grinds down against you, rocking his hips.

“Fuck me,” you tell him, moving your mouth to suck on his ear lobe.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, shivering from the sensation of your tongue on his ear. “Want you naked first.”

He pulls away just long enough to tug your dress up and over your head, then he returns to his spot, his cock rutting against your core once more.

The two of you have been friends forever. Hyuck knows you have an IUD, he’d been there for you when you’d gotten it last year, when you’d just wanted to stay in bed and rot for a few days. There’s no need to discuss birth control or safety- all there’s left to do, is have his thick cock fill you in ways you’ve been wanting all week.

Hyuck adjusts, grabbing his base so he can push his tip into your throbbing hole.

“Fuck,” you whimper in his ear, clutching his shoulders as he pushes an inch into you.

“You good?” he asks, breath hot on your throat.

“So good,” you respond, locking your legs around his hips.

He pushes deeper into your pussy, and your core welcomes him in, walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock.

Hyuck bottoms out, and you both groan deeply. He forces his lips onto your own again, and it’s a clash of teeth and tongues.

It’s animalistic in the best sort of way- like you’ve both been caged up for as long as you’ve known each other, and you’re finally letting your beasts out to do the most primal thing imaginable.

There are no thoughts in your mind as Hyuck begins to fuck you, there’s only you, him, and this intense feeling of pleasure.

You feel so connected to him- missionary isn’t always the most fun position, but with Hyuck, it feels right. It feels like this was meant to be your first time together, face to face, lip locked, breathing each other in, moaning desperately as he takes you as his own.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, gently biting on your lip. “Your pussy is taking me so fucking well- first your mouth, now this- how do you expect me to last long?”

“I don’t,” you giggle. “You made me cum so hard on your tongue, I’m about ready to be filled with your cum and then lay here.”

“I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you after this.”

“You better,” you grin.

Hyuck smiles against your lips, kissing you again as he fucks you even harder.

The stretch of his girthy cock is unlike anything else- and it feels like heaven as he pounds you into his mattress.

“Rub your clit?” he suggests.

“I can’t- I can’t cum again,” you whimper, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“I’ll have to train you to cum more after this,” he promises.

You can only grin, drawing his lips to your own again as he uses you to find the ends of his own pleasure.

His whimpering sounds are like music to your ears- fuck, Hyuck is too hot to even imagine. Had this guy really been one of your best friends for this long without you ever exploiting this?

You’re so fucking happy he’d called you and been weird all week- it was the perfect foreplay, and now, you’re completely enraptured by him.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans.

“You close, baby?” you ask.

“Fuck, call me baby again.”

“Baby,” you whimper, “your cock feels so good in my tight pussy.”

Hyuck moans even louder.

“Just like that,” you encourage him, tightening your legs on his hips. “Keep doing that- right there-” The tip of his cock is hitting the perfect spots inside of you, and you’re gasping from the feeling, burrowing your face in his throat and panting against his skin.

“Shit, Angel-”

“Cum for me, baby, cum in my pussy,” you urge him.

That’s all it takes for him to explode, letting out a deep groan as he releases deep inside your core, coating your walls with him.

His thrusts falter, his breathing laboured, entire body shivering-

You stroke the back of his head, cooing in his ear, helping him through it until he’s finished, coming to a stop ontop of you and breathing heavily.

“Good boy,” you tease.

Hyuck lets out a deep chuckle, and it turns into a sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And you’d love that.”

“I would,” he admits. “Okay, fuck, I’m gonna pull out, gonna grab some tissues and sweat pants- we can head to the bathroom down the hall and hopefully clean up a little, then we’re gonna cuddle.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” you grin, laying there as he groans and gets off of you, following through with his intentions.

Soon, cum is being wiped from your pussy and you’re being helped into sweatpants.

The two of you exit his room, and you’re very pleased to see that most of the party is downstairs, leaving his floor pretty vacant.

You make your way to the bathroom with him, clutching his hand.

Once there, you both clean up, and you listen to Hyuck splash water on his face while you pee, making sure all his cum is out of you.

The two of you make it back to his room, collapsing into bed. He pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close.

“Before I pass out… how did you know it was me on the phone?” he asks.

“Out of everyone in the frat, you idolize Johnny the most. It wasn’t a reach that you’d recreate his Ghostie thing last year. On top of that, you’re a film major, you know horror movies better than anyone else. And, you’re a horny fucker, which is something I’ve always loved about you- I just… I needed you to make a move, which you never really did, until now. It just… made sense that it was you. The way we talk to each other, I could tell it was you from the very first call.”

“Here I was, thinking I was all suave and shit.”

“You were very suave, baby,” you grin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Happy Halloween, Angel.”

You giggle. “Happy Halloween.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! find my other nct frat fics (including Ghostie) HERE. I made this meme for this fic because it's so them.

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🔮 preview. “So, I’m gonna finger fuck you stupid,” he explains, pushing his digits back into you. “And then, I’m going to apply pressure, right here-” Hyuck’s hand smooths across your abdomen, even the slightest push makes you feel his fingers deep in your core, and you release a whine of pleasure. “Yeah, you’re going to love this,” he confirms with a grin.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving), pussy worship, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, squirting, dirty talk, praise, Hyuck holds the reader down by her abdomen, etc… I petnames: (y/n’s) Angel. (his) Baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

You love Hyuck, you do- but sometimes (especially when watching movies) he has this tendency to… well, never shut up.

“Okay so, coming up, when the alien pops out of his body, the director didn’t tell anyone this was going to happen, so when Sigourney Weaver and the others react, it’s genuine shock and surprise-”

You love his facts too, you do… but… sometimes, they get a bit much.

“Baby,” you coo, cuddling closer to your boyfriend, “Can we just… watch the movie?”

“We are watching the movie.”

“I mean… God, I’m going to sound like a bitch, but can we get through like… ten minutes without a fun fact?”

“But… my fun facts are fun.”

“They are, baby, they are,” you assure him, patting his chest, “I just…” you sigh, “ten minutes?”

“I can think of a distraction for my mouth,” Hyuck grins.

Your pussy immediately flutters, picking up on what he’s saying. “Yeah? Don’t you want to watch the movie?”

“I’ve seen it a billion times.” His hand rubs your shoulder and he nuzzles against your cheek, breath hot on your skin. “Come on, let me eat out your pretty pussy. I’ve been wanting to overstim you for a hot minute- I think I could get three or four out of you while you’re watching.”

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#haechan #haechan smut #donghyuck #donghyuck smut #lee haechan #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck smut #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #haechan nct #nct haechan #nct haechan smut #haechan nct smut

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boypied · 25 days ago

Text

Crush

[best friend] clark kent x male reader

summary: you've been crushing on your best friend for a while now, he is the oppitome of perfection so before his date with lois lane he wants to try out his eating out skills and you are in no position to object his offer.

wc: 1.3k

notes: FDNI, MDNI, ass eating (r!receiving), fingering, body worshipping, hand jobs (r!giving&receiving), ass slapping.

You sit on Clark's bed waiting for him to finish up in the shower and actually acknowledge you since he was the one that invited you over. “Clark, can you hurry-” You start to mutter out until he stumbles into his bedroom where you're sitting down on the corner of his bed, your eyes wandering all over his body but completely staring at his extremely low and loose towel. You gulp down some spit that was gathering in your mouth, and if anymore formed, you would've been drooling over him in a more obvious sense. Clark struts into his room, chuckling quietly to himself as he picks up on your obvious gawking over him. “Bro, I am dying for your help... and I wouldn't ask you to help in this way, but it's urgent” he scoffs out, his voice laced with nervousness with an underlying hint of excitement. Your eyes wander over his body as you watch the water droplets drip down his gorgeously muscular body, “whatever you need! You know you can count on me for anything, you know that.” You mumble out in a soft tone as you gulp quietly.

“This is so embarrassing to ask you, but... can I practice my eating out skills?” Clark asks you with his eyes practically closed, and you stare at him in shock, but hearing those words sends a warm tingly feeling down your body heading right towards your growing aching cock. Your mouth gaped open slightly, taking a moment to process what your best friend of many years just asked of you, “it's just that I'm meeting Lois later and I've been getting the feeling that she's been wanting to take things a step further and... I just don't want to embarrass myself to her, cause I like her a lot” Clark says in a slight whiney tone as he begins to ramble on about how much this will help him out and improve, “This can be like when me and you use to practice kissing with each other before you figured out you liked men, except it will be me figuring out how to eat someone out in the most pleasureable way.” Clark walks closer to you as his ramble continues on and on until your hands reach out and pull open his low hanging towel to reveal his girthy, long and monstrous cock to you. Your eyes widen and Clark gasps at the sudden feeling of being so exposed.

Clark's eyes widen as he stares down at you, “I-I'm only suppose to be eating you out!” His voice extremely shaky from nerves however his cock springs up in excitement revealing how he truly feels about the whole situation. “If you're going to be eating out my asshole then I can ATLEAST see you naked, it's only fair!” You say with a small chuckle which causes Clark to burst out laughing and cover his face to hide his embarrassment. You stand up and keep eye contact as you act all flirty as you slowly strip off naked, you laugh throughout this to hide how excited you really are about this but Clark just stares at you, he slowly nibbles at his bottom lip and you notice his cock leaking like a facet. You reach your underwear as you take a deep breath and pull them down in one swift motion leaving you naked, you both stare at eachother and the awkwardness of being naked in front of your bestfriend slowly slips away and this feeling of comfort and safety crosses over both of you. You turn around and crawl onto his bed shoving your ass into the air revealing your tight, pretty pink and hairless asshole to him. You take a deep breath “I'm ready...” You mumble out as you feel Clark's presence come closer to you as his hands grip against your cheeks spreading them open more giving him a better look at your hole, “w-woah...” he scoffs out nervously.

Clark slowly leans in and hesitantly licks a wet strip up your hole. His eyes slowly flutter shut as he relaxes his body, and his hands forcibly shake your asscheeks creating a jiggle. You gently bite down on your lower lip, feeling the warm from his tongue caressing back and forth slowly but surely pushing past your tight muscle ring and into your soft velvet walls that are clamping around his tongue. Your eyes flutter back and your cock hardens against Clark's bed, “Mhm!” He grunts out until he pulls away and he leans upwards to shove his fingers into your mouth “Suck.” Clark commands of you, his tone dominant and rough, his nervous exterior slips away as his hidden fantasy comes to light. You feel his fingers push into your mouth, swirling around to get them all soaked in your spit. Clark pulls them out of your mouth and gently rubs them against your wet asshole, gently pushing them past your loosening muscle ring and into your velvet feeling walls.

Clark fingers curl inside of you as he reaches his knuckles as your muscle ring tightens around it. You lay your head against the duvet as you slowly sink into it, “C-Clark~” You whimper out in agonising pleasure as his fingers curve against your sweet spot, with each curve he milks your sweet spot sending shivers down your spine and causes your body to jolt. Clark pulls away and sits down next to you, “Do you wanna J-Jerk me off?” Clark asks you nervously as you roll over and continues to breathe heavily. “Mhm-hm.” You nod your head with excitement. You lean back up and wrap your hand around his girthy monstrous cock that you've been dreaming of for some time now, and you slowly begin to beat his meat feeling his pre-cum drip down your hand and you lean down to lick it up grazing your tongue against his tip causing his body to jolt upwards into your hand. You gasp in shock as Clark wraps his hand around your cock and he matches the rhythm in which you're beating his meat in a swift motion. “F-Faster!” You both whimper out simultaneously, and you both turn your heads to make eye contact as both of your hands pratcially move on their own.

“C-Clark, is this too mu- ” You begin to talk as you breathe heavily until he leans in and slides his tongue into your mouth and your eyes flutter shut enjoying the feeling and taste of his tongue in your mouth. Both of your hands go up and down in a swift sultry motion, and you whimper as you feel Clark's other muscular arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you both thrust your into each other's hand. “M-MHM!” You whine out into his mouth as you nearer your release “N-Ngh!” Clark grunts out into your mouth as the simultaneous feeling of both your hands moving in a rapid motion beating each other's cocks becomes too much for you both and you shoot your load. The spurts of cum from both of your tips shoot all over each other's bodies, Clark pulls away and breaks the kiss leaving a string of spit from his mouth onto yours.

“Woah” you mumble out as you watch Clark's face redden, and he chuckles nervously. “So did this prepare you for your date with Lois?” You ask him softly with an undertone of jealously, and Clark just stares at you and smirks “There wasn't ever a date with Lois, I just really wanted you.” Your eyes widen in shock, and you jump up from laying on the bed, and you wrap your arms around Clark's neck as his hands travel down your body, and he grips your asscheeks “You should've just said you wanted me... I've liked you for a long, long time.” You whisper in his ear, and he chuckles “I was too embarrassed, but I guess I don't need to be anymore.” You lean back, and Clark smiles softly at you, pulling your naked body closer to his muscular one as he leans into a kiss, passionately feeling his tongue swirl against yours. “I am going to fuck you... extremely hard.” Clark whispers in your ear and you just giggle, you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist ready for a night full of lustfilled pleasure.

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#clark kent #tom welling #tom welling x male reader #clark kent x male reader #gay #x male reader #fanfic #x male y/n #male reader #smut #gay smut #tom welling x male reader smut #clark kent x male reader smut #lgbtqia #boypied #boypied fanfic

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simpingforheros · 5 months ago

Text

Jason’s Girl??

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Wait, Jason had a girlfriend? And he’s whipped for her? And she’s Hot?????

Warning: Fluff, a little bit of SMUT, Miscommunication, Dick being Dick, Established Relationship, Female Pronouns, Ass Harassment (you’ll see what I mean), Groping, Jason being a jackass to Dick. Toxic! Jason towards his own family, Implied Oral (m receiving), Actual Oral (F receiving) , doggy style, Choking, Fingering, face grabbing, dumbification, degergation, pet names, consensual recording, lipstick marks, tattoos.

Author’s Note: I’m back again to harassing @jjenthusee again because they had the nerve to not only inspire me with one diabolical fanart to make me write this, but then they had the audacity to show me this so yea, yall are getting some Jason being a whipped boyfriend. Also my first smut ever so please give me critiques.

AN: Part 2, Part 3

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Oh Jason-" Dick's voice fills the air as he waltzes over to Jason as he sits in front of the Batcomputer with a charismatic smile. Jason swears that he saw the devil in that smile as his older brother asks,

"So, Wally and Roy wanna go out to the bar tonight and I know you are off and have nothing to do, sooooo, would you mind covering for me for patrol?"

Dick was already mentally planning all his pick up lines for all the attractive individuals he wanted to spend the night with before Jason casually bursts his bubble.

"No. Got plans." Jason grumbles, already annoyed with Dick. He was trying to focus on his work so he can leave as fast as he can. The clicks of the mouse emphazies Dick's frustration as he says.

"Brooding and looking at 'Hot Milfs near me with Guns' does not count as plans.' His blank tone becomes a whine as he begs, "Come on, Jay. Ever since my break up with Star-!"

"You mean you cheating on Kori with Barbara again?"

Dick glares at Tim from over his shoulder as he snaps at him.

"Shut up, Timmy Turner."

His eyes become begging pools as he looks to Jason. "Help your older brother get laid and work my patrol for me. I promise to cover for you Monday...."

Jason scoffs as he knows Dick wouldn't return the favor once Monday rolls around. He stands up from his chair as he grabs his helmet. All the reports are done, meaning he was officially done until his patrol route on Monday.

Dick groans and follows Jason to his motorcycle. "Jay, Bro. I'm serious. Please help me out."

Jason smiles at Alfred as he sees the old butler waiting for him by the bike with a gift bag in hand. He takes the bag as he says, "Thanks, Alfred."

The butler smiles as he says, "I hope you two enjoy them. I used Martha Wayne's famous white macadamia nut cookie recipe. I remember you told me they were her favorite."

"Her??" Dick gasps as Jason gets onto his bike. Dick stands in front of the bike while holding the bars. "You're leaving your brother high and dry for some girl? I thought Bro Code overpowers any flings."

That's all Dick remembers Jason having. Every relationship Jason had that Dick was aware of was either flings or toxic messes. Hell, He was dating Slade's daughter a couple years ago and she literally tries to kill him. Why does Jason even refuse the chance to bash evil-doers' skulls in for a random chick?

Jason rolls his eyes as he places his helmet on his head. "Can't really help you if you are too insecure to keep a woman in the first place."

Dick snaps at him as he jumps from the front of the bike as Jason reves it up before darting out of the Batcave.

"I AM NOT INSECURE!!!"

Tim peaks down at the runway as he says, "I mean...it says a lot if you can't pick between two women..."

Tim's words die in this throat as he was met with Dick's glare. Alfred chuckles at the following argument that begins to fill the Batcave as he hopes Mistress (Y/N) enjoys the cookies.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Shitttt...."

He groans as Dick rolls off of Roy's couch with a splitting head ache. The effects of last night filling his senses as he stumbles to stand up . He would have been better off going on patrol instead of paying Duke 50 grand to take his patrol. The very fact that Duke was also rich but still insisted that he paid solely on Principle made Dick respect and loathe Th Signal.

But having that 50k would have been better than the lack of action he got. Apparently women currently preferred exploring the pumpkin patch that is Roy and Wally instead of the Romi Beauty that was Dick.

The socks on both the main and guest bedroom tauts him as he starts to throw on some comfortable clothes before heading out of the door. Maybe he can go for a run before heading back to Bludhaven...

Then a sight catches his eyes as a pretty little thing trotted up the stairs. Her (H/C) hair was in a protective hair style leaving her clean face exposed as her long lashes grazes her cheek bones. Her eyes focusing on the cell phone in her hand as Dick's eyes hungrily scanned her figure. She breathed a certain casually put together woman on her day off as she moved gracefully in her baggy sweat pants concealed by the over sized zip-up that was hanging off her shoulder, exposing her pretty skin. The lack of strapage on her shoulder that made Dick’s mouth water at the possibly that this little minx was just casually out without a proper top or maybe without a bra.

As she reaches what he assumed to be her apartment door, Dick tries to straighten his walk a little bit as he beats her to the door. His hand resting on the door as he was leaning against it, trying to appear as the charming billionaire’s son that he always used to get women.

“Hey there.” Dick says smoothly as the girl cocks an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know I was in heaven until I saw you over here, Angel.”

The girl cringes and covers her mouth as she tries not to burst out laughing in his face. Dick takes it as his flirtation working as she gives him a polite smile.

Maybe he can get laid afterall…

“That was pretty corny, I’ll give you that.” She admits before she starts to turn her door knob to go back into her apartment.

Dick panics as he says, “I’m Dick by the way. Well I mean Richard, but everyone calls me Dick.”

A knowing look on her face appears as she says, “I’m not surprised.”

He gently places his hand on her arm as he says, “I don’t normally do this, but can I get your number?” His charm game up to its maximum potential as he gives her the look all women swoon over. The look that at least lets him get away with the shit he had done to Kori and Barbara at least.

The woman looks at him with the most disinterested look as she says, “Nope.”

“No?” Dick asks as she nods.

“N. o. No.” She says as she pulls away from him. “My boyfriend is inside and unless you want him to kick your ass, I’m gonna go inside and enjoy my anniversary.”

In Dick’s half drunken stupor, he takes the rejection as one of those white lies that women tell strange men so they would leave them alone. Of course she wouldn’t be receptive to some stranger appearing outside of her apartment at whatever fucking time it was in the morning…

“Oh really? What makes you think your ‘boyfriend’ and kick my ass?” He teases. “Is he big and scary?”

Her smirk deepens as a twinkle of mischief and annoyance makes her eyes pop. “He is very big and very very scary…”

Her confidence only egged Dick on as he says, “Baby, I’m from Gotham and I don’t know what counts as scary here in Jump City…”

A diabolical giggle escapes her lips as she says lightly. “Oh you’re from Gotham? So is my boyfriend. I’m actually moving there next weekend. You two probably know each other…”

Before Dick could respond, her fist knocks hard against the wood as she calls out through the door. “Jason Baby, I need you!”

‘Jason?…No it can’t be….’ Dick thoughts before heavy steps came to the door and pulled it open, and to Dick’s horror, there stood Jason Peter Todd in a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight white tee shirt with the bold red letters saying, ‘ I <3 my girlfriend and her phat ass’

Dick probably would have laughed his ass off if he currently didn’t feel like pissing himself under Jason’s glare. With his eyes still glaring at Dick, he asks the woman, “Yeah, Princess? Is my brother bothering you?”

His arms across over his chest, emphasizing the way the shirt make his biceps bulge out as his girlfriend giggles.

“I figured that’s who he was and no he isn’t.” She says softly as she stands up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He just didn’t believe me when I told him about my big scary man.”

Jason’s eyes soften as he flicks over to her. His hand instinctively grabbing the bag from her hand that Dick didn’t even notice, most likely take out from a restaurant. “You got us breakfast? I could have cooked us something.”

“Yea, but you looked too sweet sleeping and I know you’ve been having a hard week.” She says as she takes off the zip up that Dick now realizes was Jason’s. Oh lord did Dick wish she didn’t take it off.

Now the vixen was in a tube top and a pair of black sweat pants with ‘I <3 my boyfriend’ curving deliciously across the seat. Dick’s eyes didn’t linger long as the temptress snaps her fingers in his face.

“Hey, that’s not yours to look at.” She scolds him, which causes Jason to chuckle. Her eyes looked up to Jason with a playful warmth as she says, “I’m gonna head in and plate the food.”

Jason decides to be a tease and cups her ass while she squeals. “You just need to sit on the table to plate mine.” Her lightly swatting him causes him to laugh as she walks into the apartment.

She calls out over her shoulder. “Bye, Dick! I hope you get that insecurity issue looked at!”

Dick gaps at the blatant insult as he looks up to his younger brother for support. Jason’s shoulders shake as he tries to contain his laughter. It was disturbing to Dick to see Jason so happy…

“You really let her speak to your innocent brother like that?…”

Jason’s eyebrow shoots up as he says, “First of all, you’re as innocent as everyone in Arkham, and second, I’m not her handler. She’s a grown woman who obviously can handle herself,”

“Jay~” a purr comes from the inside of the apartment that causes a stir in both of the men. An evil glint passes through Jason’s face as he says to Dick.

“See ya later!” Before Dick could respond, Jason already had the door close as the eruption of laughter fills the hallway.

Shit….

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

It wasn’t until a week later that Dick realizes what Jason had planned for him as revenge for flirting with his girlfriend.

Jason had brought (Y/N) to Wayne manor to meet everyone after it was brought to life that she was not only not a fling, but a serious long term girlfriend. Jason somehow hid the fact that he had been dating for 2 years fucking years.

Alfred knew the couple’s love story before they even walked through the door as he delightfully told them about how Jason, who was brooding about his break up with Rose Wilson, met (Y/N) at Roy’s apartment complex after he witnessed her beat up some loser.

Apparently Jason couldn’t wait to tell Alfred all about it after he managed to get her to go out with him and the rest was history.

Barbara also knew about it after Jason came to her asking advice on certain gifts to give her. The ginger practically fawned over (Y/N) as soon as she came through the door.

Honestly, everyone kinda fawned over the couple as they can see the magnetic connection between them. It was clear to everyone that Jason had finally found his match and the shit eating grin on his face whenever he locked eyes with Dick made him more sure of it.

It was the same grin as he had in those videos he sent Dick moments before he arrived. Dick can still recall the video like he was the one to experience it like a delightful nightmare.

It started simple enough. (Y/N)’s flustered face filled the screen as Jason's hand cups her face. Her light pants and her red-stained lips shined with what Dick assumed to be spit as his brother's thumb swiped at her bottom lip. The already smudged red lipstick stained her skin as Jason began to coo at her.

"Aw, Princess, your lipstick is smudged." He almost sounds like he's mocking her with how sweet he sounded. "I guess it does matter, right? Because you look so fucking pretty."

Her eyes shined at the praise as she pressed her cheek further into his palm. Her voice melted like sugar as she asked him.

"You really think I'm pretty?" Her eyes almost shine mischievously as she asks him. "Does that mean I made your cock pretty too?"

Jason chuckles as he presses his thumb into her mouth, pressing lightly on her tongue as he coos. "I think you're very pretty. Especially when you choke on my cock and paint it red with your sweet lips."

Pulling his thumb out as she whines, he gently pushes her down onto the bed as it shows her in the same exact outfit she had on the day she and Dick met. Her hands go to pull off her clothes when Jason stops her with a single hand.

"Nah, baby. He ain't seeing all of your goods." Revealing that the video was made specifically for Dick to see before the video ends.

While Dick understood Jason's message from the first clip of the video, he couldn't help both the curiosity and the string in his own pants to watch the other video sent right after that one.

“Fuck, Jason!” Her moans filling the speakers as her eyes were screwed shut. Her nose scrunched in the cutest way as Dick made notes of what all looked different on her.

Her skin was shining with sweat and her hair frayed from the friction between it and the sheets. Her exposed skin was now flushed with a soft trail of bite marks blemishing the sea of smoothness. The camera was placed so he can see all of her except for her cunt which was obstructed by the mass of black hair that he assumed was Jason devouring her like a dog.

His movements remaining steady as he eagerly digged his nose into her folds as her manicured hands forced him in deeper. Her breathless moans and high pitched squeals as Jason begins to fill her unseen hole with his fingers while he began to solely suck her clit.

"Baby... Please...." She begged as she tried to grind her hips into his mouth, but the iron grip of his hand on her thigh prevented that as she cried. "Please let me cum...I've been a good girl for you...please let me cum...."

Dick swore he almost came into his own pants at the sweet sound of her begging.

Jason chuckles against her skin as she whines in frustration. He pulls away from her cunny only enough to where his head still blocked the view of it from the camera.

"Aw princess, you forgot the game..." He scolds her as his fingers seemed to go faster inside her. Her moans becoming almost pornographic as the stimulation and her impending orgasm was being played out of her. "Who does this sweet girl belong to?"

"Y-you, Jason" She pants out her answer as makes a noise that sounded like he didn't believe her. His free hand grabbing the propped up camera and bringing it around so only she was in the shot.

The heavy rising and falling of her covered chest filled Dick's vision as the soft squelching of her cunt being finger fucked serenaded him.

"You sure about that? You didn't seem too disinterested in Dick when he was hitting on you earlier...Maybe you were too cock hungry to even care about whose cock would fill you."

Her head shakes in denial as she whines as the squelching quiets down. "No, I only want you, Jay."

"Yeah? You mean it. Princess?"

Her head frantically nods as her eyes glass over. Her hips try to roll into his hand as the camera shifts a little to her hips. A tattoo coming into the frame. A small red heart with the initials 'JPT' written in cursive right beside it.

The video ends there before the final video is switched on by Dick, whose on the edge of his seat now.

The beginning shot shows her now on her knees with her head down to the mattress. Her cheek was presses against the slightly red stained sheets as her plump ass was raised, only being propped by a pillow under her hips to cover any view to the front of her pubic area. Jason held her hands to her back as his hips were pressed against the back her hips. Her whining and incoherent babble as she tries to roll her hips back into him earns a firm slap to her ass as Jason smirks.

The first time Dick saw Jason in the video and he was still wearing that stupid white shirt with the " I <3 my girlfriend and her phat ass" on it. However, red lipstick now stained the collar of the shirt and his neck. His own face was smeared in some red lipstick as he smirks down at her.

"Aw, is my princess ready to be fucked dumb?" He asked down to her as she mewls. Her grinding hips pressing into his pelvis as Jason moves his shirt out of the way. The move seemed intentional as the newly exposed skin showed a matching heart tattoo with what Dick assumed to be her initials just on Jason's Adonis belt.

"Baby?" Jason asks as his voice lowers an octave. His hand reaches around her neck and pulls her up by her neck as she chokes a gasps. His hips now thrusting deep into her as the pillow still hides the sinful union from the camera.

"I asked you a question," Jason whispers as his voice becomes gravelly. His hand flexed as he choked her, but it was obvious that he wasn't grabbing her as hard as he could.

(Y/N) cries as tears roll down her face as her whimpers fill the room. The bottom half of her face was now stained pink with no other evidence of the red lipstick remaining. Her now free hand reached around and cupped Jason's ass, encouraging him to fuck her insides up as she finally answers him.

"Yes, please...I need it, Jason. I need you..."

Jason growls as his pace quickens as the nasty sound of their skin clapping almost overpowered her squeals as she takes it.

"You little minx..." He whispers as he slams her down onto the mattress before pulling her hips back to his. His hips slamming into her jiggling ass as she whimpers. Drool and tears cover her face as she mumbles out praises.

"So full...So big...can't get enough..." She whimpers as Jason smirks from above her. "No one else could match you...I love you, Jason."

"I love you too, Baby." He whispers as his hand slips around her hips and begins to rub circles into her hidden clit. Her squeals became high-pitched pants as her climax began to rise.

Jason's other hand reaches for the camera as he whispers his final message to the camera.

"Maybe Dick can learn how a real man should treat his woman..."

Let's just say that Dick remained silent in his room with a stomach ache as he learned that Jason was both crazy and the luckiest son of a bitch he ever met....

++++++++++++++++++

Author's Note: I will never forgive Dick for the shit he pulled against Babs and Kori so enjoy my revenge. Also, let me know what you thought of my first smut. I didn't commit to a full one because I was scared lol. And thank you @jjenthusee for the inspo again and I promise I'll quit the harassment for now.

+++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfiction. I DO NOT CONDONE MY WRITINGS TO BE COPIED, STOLEN, OR REPOSTED ON OTHER WEBSITES OR ACCOUNTS WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #red hood #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x you #batman arkham series #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #jason todd fluff

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kamaluhkhan · 1 year ago

Text

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.

“what? n-no!”

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.

it just didn't seem fair.

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.

every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.”

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.

“she deserved more.”

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do.

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.”

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.

the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse.

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.”

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?”

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?”

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?”

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.

everything was falling into place.

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”

“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet.

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!

would you hate him, if you knew?

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

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419jhat · 24 days ago

Text

Steve becomes an actor. Eddie reacts to his movies while nursing his crush.

***

That Time He Got Naked

Steve had always been a good performer. Eddie watched him in school, putting on the face of a disaffected cool guy who was above everything around him. And he watched him put on a face of bravery for the kids when the end of the world was at their fingertips. When Steve got his first role, Eddie figured it made sense. He hadn't exactly been trained in acting, but he had a pretty face and the ability to do what he was told on a set.

When he got his second role, Eddie didn't pay much attention. Local art movies by Robin's college friends weren't that interesting to watch, in his opinion. But the third role was when it became a thing. That's when it started turning into a big deal. And before they knew it, a year later, Steve was in a real movie. A movie they could see in theaters and rent at family video. A movie people had actually heard of. The kind of movie everyone sat down to watch in support of their famous friend. Even if it was a just small role.

So, at the first available showing where the entire party could get together, Eddie found himself squished between Dustin and Nancy, watching Steve gasp and moan like it was his first time.

And Eddie's face was on fire.

Dustin had pulled his hoodie over his eyes.

Nancy was sitting straight as a telephone pole.

Jonathan leaned over and asked her, “Was he really like that?” Which made her smack him on the arm and tell him to shut up.

Eddie could barely pay attention. He was too busy wondering, as he stared at Steve's bare ass taking up half the screen, if Steve had been hitting the gym to tone up just for this scene because-

He needed to stop thinking about it before he made it even more awkward for everyone.

When Steve called him a week later, he could barely talk without stuttering like a fool.

“So, what did you think? Maria said I was really convincing but she was in the scene with me. She kind of has to say that,” Steve said.

Eddie thought that the sight of Steve's ass had been imprinted on the back of his eyelids, because it was all he saw when he closed his eyes to sleep at night.

“It was good,” Eddie said awkwardly.

“That sex scene was so embarrassing. People keep asking me if it was hot. There is nothing hot about standing around your coworkers in a flesh colored jockstrap.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie said, trying not to imagine a scenario where Steve was his coworker, and that was his uniform.

That Time He Died

The next time they met up to watch a Steve movie, nobody had warned Eddie about its contents. Or, maybe they did and he'd ignored it because he didn't want to think about the little mole on the small of Steve's back that he'd discovered last time they watched a Steve movie.

Either way, Eddie was completely unprepared to watch Steve gasping for air while being beaten to death in an alley.

“Ugh, I can't watch this,” Robin muttered when it became clear what was happening. She ran out of the theater a few moments later when the scene didn't end quickly enough.

Lucas was on Eddie's other side, cringing with each brutal punch. Steve was letting out pathetic, wet whimpers, his face literally crunching under the main actor's fists.

Eddie knew it was fake. The blood was kind of excessive and there was just no way you could rearrange someone's face like that with your bare hands. But watching Steve's eyes go glassy made Eddie feel sick.

He got up too.

He found Robin standing next to a water fountain, just staring at it.

“Thirsty, Buckley?”

She jumped.

“Oh. No,” she said, stuffing her hands in the pickets of her jacket. “I just dream about that kind of stuff a lot.”

Eddie nodded. “I get it. It's different when we've seen him hurt before.”

Behind them, the theater door swung open. Dustin paused when he saw them, and then propped it open with his foot. The rest of the party followed.

“I guess we're leaving early, huh?” Nancy asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Nobody tells Steve,” Robin warned.

When Steve called him the next day, he kept his mouth shut.

“You were terrifying,” Eddie said.

“You sure? I think I was supposed to be more pathetic than anything else.”

“I mean, that too. But it was super gory, so I think the whole theater was freaked out.”

“Neat,” Steve said. “You know, I'm going to be in Chicago this weekend. We should hang out!”

“I'd love that!” Eddie said too quickly.

Steve laughed and asked, “maybe you can show me around?”

“Yeah, you can stay at my place!” Eddie said.

And then he looked around his apartment and cringed. “On second thought, you can get a hotel if you don't want to deal with the mess.”

“I love the mess. It's you,” Steve said.

Eddie wasn't sure if he was supposed to be offended or not.

That Time He Cried

The next movie wasn't much better. This time, Eddie came prepared. This time, Steve didn't get naked or die. What he hadn't anticipated was that there were other terrible things that could happen, like watching the man he'd held a crush on for years now scream and sob because he lost the will to live after his wife died.

Eddie honestly didn't know that Steve could sound like that. The anguish in his voice at the funeral scene, the pain in his eyes. It was raw, and difficult to face.

There wasn't a dry tear in their row.

“I do not like this one,” El whispered to Eddie.

“Why is he always miserable in these movies?” Max muttered. She had her shoulders up to her ears and her arms crossed, like she could hold the tears back if she wound herself up tight enough.

“Well. He seemed pretty happy in the first one,” Eddie said.

Max punched him in the shoulder.

Steve's phone call came that evening.

“Dude, I think you broke everyone's hearts. I didn't even know you could cry like that,” Eddie said.

Steve huffed a laugh into the receiver. “My agent told me to think of something sad.”

“What did you think of?” Eddie asked. He instantly wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Why would Steve share that with him? To his shock, Steve hummed, like he was thinking.

“I thought about how I felt when we thought Max was dead,” he said quietly. “Obviously, it's not like that between us. She's basically my sister at this point. But…it was the first time I'd ever lost someone but cared about. Someone I was supposed to protect.”

Eddie's heart melted into a million pieces.

“Steve. I think you should invite her to visit you. She loves you too,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Steve said slowly, “the only thing is that Dustin would lose his shit if she visited first.”

“Oh, don't worry, I'll keep him distracted for you,” Eddie said.

“With Dragons and Dickwads?” Steve asked.

“You know it.”

That Time He Proposed

Eventually, Steve broke his curse of misery and managed to get a lead role in a rom com. Eddie hated it more than anything else. Watching him fall in love with the human equivalent of a shallow puddle pissed Eddie off more than anything else had in a long time. Steve's pretty eyes, staring at her. Steve, so visibly in love with someone who didn't deserve him. Steve, doing stupid shit to make her take him back when he hadn't done anything wrong in Eddie’s completely unbiased opinion.

It made Eddie want to tear his hair out.

The real cherry on top was Steve proposing to her at the end, because of-fucking-course the movie ended that way. That kind of heteronormative love at first sight, get married and have kids bullshit the media always pandered to, drove him up the wall. Steve did all the work. He set up a cheesy outdoor surprise at the beach and dropped to one knee while everyone in the background of the scene clapped like a bunch of lemmings.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Eddie said.

“Tell me about it,” Mike said.

“God, I hate romance movies," Eddie said.

“They always suck,” Mike agreed.

“Steve would never do that! He doesn't like big grand gestures!” Eddie said.

“What?” Mike asked.

“He's a very private person!”

“Eddie…that's not Steve. That's Chris. Steve’s character,” Erica said.

“I- I know that. I'm just saying,” Eddie sputtered.

“Can you all shut the fuck up?” Max hissed.

Steve called him a week later, and by then, Eddie had forgotten all about it up until Steve started waxing poetic about how romantic it all was. Ugh.

“Wait, I thought you didn't like that kind of stuff,” Eddie interrupted.

“Oh. No, I don't. But in the context of the movie, it was supposed to be.”

“So…what kind of romance do you like?” Eddie asked casually.

“Gonna surprise me with something, Munson?” Steve asked.

“Wha- no, I just-” Eddie stuttered.

Steve interrupted him with a laugh. Then, he suddenly asked, in a sinfully soft voice, “when are you going to visit me?”

Eddie's heart skipped a beat.

“Uh, I don't know. Tattooing doesn't pay for a California vacation yet,” he said nervously.

“You could move out here,” Steve said. “There's a ton of people wanting tattoos in LA.”

“I don't know if all that sun would agree with me,” Eddie joked.

“Youcouldmoveinwithme,” Steve blurted out.

“Hmm?” Eddie asked, twisting the phone cord around his thumb.

“You could move in with me,” Steve said.

Eddie nearly dropped the phone. He sat up straight and looked at his hands like they couldn't tell him what he'd really heard, because there was no way Steve was being serious.

“Eddie?” Steve asked.

“I'm here. Good one, Steve,” he said with a forced laugh, “like you'd want me messing up your place. Anyway, got anything else going on?”

Steve didn't reply for a moment. When he did, he told him about some party he'd gone to. And Eddie forgot about the offer completely.

That Time He Was a Villain

Thankfully, Steve's next film was wildly different from the others. This time he was the bad guy. Eddie found it kind of thrilling to watch him parade around with the confidence of an unapologetic piece of shit. The way he led the main characters around like he had them on a leash, the way he looked when he was in charge. It made Eddie's pathetic little heart shiver.

Steve made a sexy villain.

Unfortunately for Eddie, nobody else seemed to agree. As they left the theater, all the kids were grumbling under their breath.

“I thought he was cool in that role,” Eddie said.

“He was such an asshole!” Dustin said.

“I can't believe he was so mean to Miranda! He didn't have to be such a bad husband!” Max said.

“It was the look in his eyes. Like he thought it was all fun,” Erica said with disgust.

“Once a douche, always a douche,” Mike muttered.

Nancy lifted an eyebrow. “You guys know that it was just a character, right? Steve didn't actually endorse any of that stuff.”

“He chose the role,” Dustin muttered. “I hope Hollywood isn't ruining him.”

Eddie was pretty sure they just missed him.

Steve called him three days later.

“Do you think I'm turning into an asshole?” he asked without saying hello.

“Dustin’s just being stupid,” Eddie said.

“He says I'm regressing back into my high school days!”

“That's dramatic,” Eddie said with a laugh, “he didn't even know you in high school.”

“Exactly!”

“I thought you were cool in your latest movie,” Eddie said.

“What?”

“I mean, you are a bit of an ass, but it shows your skill.”

“Wait, is that what this is about? I thought I missed his birthday or something!”

“Oh, no. They just don't like seeing you play the bad guy.”

“Oh my God, that is so fucking-”

That Time He Fell In Love With A Man

Eddie didn't know what was coming next. Steve had been in a wide variety of roles at this point, so when he sat down in the theater with a bucket of popcorn, he did not expect to witness the crush of his life, holder of his soul, dream of all dreams, to be making out with another man.

Eddie nearly threw his popcorn at the screen out of sheer shock.

“Buckley, did you know about this!?” he hissed to Robin.

“Yeah, I thought it was really brave,” she said softly.

“What do you mean? Because he's straight?”

Robin slowly turned to look at Eddie with an eyebrow lifted.

“...what?” she asked.

Eddie wasn't paying attention. He turned back to watch. It was beautiful. It was nothing like what he'd expected. Explicit love between two men, on screen for the world to see. He didn't even have it in himself to get jealous. For the first time, Eddie couldn't see Steve. He saw the story. He could see himself in the way Steve's character looked at his lover. The way they hid their feelings for each other in public. The film ended with Steve's character passing away in a car accident. It made Eddie cry. Eddie hadn't cried in a theater in years.

He left the building feeling raw.

The others were raving about the film, talking about how it would push Steve's career to the next level. No comments about it being weird or gross.

“Robin, why would he choose that role?” Eddie asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, did he do it for Will or something?”

Robin turned to Eddie with her hands on her hips, looking very much like Steve with the level of judgement in her eyes.

“Eddie…when you said Steve was straight. Were you being serious?”

Eddie just blinked at her. “Of course I was. He is straight.”

“Are you stupid?” she asked. Eddie opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't let him. “Where have you been the last few years? Has that apartment of yours been lined with lead?”

“What-”

“Eddie, he calls you almost every week!”

“He calls everyone-”

“He stays at your place when he's in town!”

“It's cheaper-”

“He is a successful actor! He has no reason to stay in your apartment, which is always covered in dirty clothes!”

“Hey, I try to keep it-”

“Last time I was there, your underwear was hanging on the bathroom doorknob!”

“Listen, I told you I can explain that-”

“Eddie, he asked if you wanted to move in with him!”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Now that he thought about it, he did recall Steve joking about that. But it had just been a joke. Right?

“I thought he was being nice?” Eddie offered.

“Oh my god, you are so stupid,” Robin said.

“Wait, so let me get this right. Steve isn't straight. And he's interested in me!?”

Robin punched him in the shoulder. “Go call him, you dumbass.”

Eddie turned and ran all the way home without even saying goodbye. By the time he made it to his phone, he was gasping for air after running up three flights of stairs. And for the first time in years, he called Steve after watching his movie.

“Hello?”

Eddie could only gasp for air.

“...listen if this is some kind of prank-”

“No! Wait! It's me!” Eddie gasped.

“Eddie?” Steve asked.

“I saw your new movie,” Eddie said, brushing his hands out of his face with a shaking hand, “why didn't you ever tell me?”

Steve was silent for a moment.

“Tell you what?” he finally asked.

“That you like men!”

“I'm sorry?” Steve asked, sounding shocked.

Eddie's face was on fire. Had he somehow completely misunderstood Robin's point? Should he have stayed beyond to make sure?

“Eddie, did you not know that?” Steve asked.

“What! Of course, I didn't! If I had known that I would have-” Eddie cut himself off, too embarrassed to even say it.

“You would have what?” Steve goaded.

“It doesn't matter,” Eddie mumbled.

“No, I think it does,” Steve said.

“It's not a big deal,” Eddie said.

“I think it is,” Steve said.

Eddie bit his bottom lip, letting his feelings fester inside him until they finally exploded in the form of him shouting, “I would have asked you out!”

“And I would have said yes,” Steve said instantly.

“Really?” Eddie asked softly.

“I mean…I've been crazy about you for years,” Steve said.

“Why didn't you say anything!? Do you know how crazy you drove me last time you stayed here? You can't hold a man in bed like that and not expect him to fall in love!”

“I- uh, thought you didn't feel the same,” Steve said, sounding embarrassed. Eddie closed his eyes and sighed. Robin was right. He was so stupid.

“Steve, I feel the same and I want to ask you to be with me for the foreseeable future,” Eddie said boldly.

“The foreseeable future? Not just a date?” Steve asked.

“I am well past wanting a single date, to be honest.”

“Oh wow. Well, I've been looking for a boyfriend,” Steve said.

“I might even surprise you with something romantic,” Eddie said with a smile.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie drabble #check out my ao3

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