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flowercrowngods · 10 months

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who did this to you. part 2

🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie

This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window.

It’s not happening.

Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his.

Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light.

It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening.

“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone.

Who’s hurting you, Steve?

Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.

He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and—

“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.”

“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will.

He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again.

He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so…

So much like Eddie’s fucking problem.

He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe.

It’s just not tight.

“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it.

“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?”

He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm.

But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time.

He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—

“I don’t know what.”

It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again.

Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small.

“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.”

Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks.

Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about.

God, he never did like blood.

“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?”

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.”

“Her.”

Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right?

“What?”

“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”

Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own.

“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.”

That's... really fucking endearing, actually.

And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet.

Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?

He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out.

“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.

Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion.

“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?”

Oh no.

“Why’m I in y—“

“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?”

Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer.

Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too.

Past all of it.

Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house.

But he can’t. So he breathes.

At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people.

But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers.

“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?”

“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.”

And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now.

He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel.

He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view.

The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice.

It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?”

He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.

“Ed?”

“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.”

“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—

Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again.

“Ed. Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“

“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?”

He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.

“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.”

“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?”

Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”

“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.”

It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole.

He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side.

“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door.

It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this.

“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much.

He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on.

Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now.

Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?

“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask.

Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me?

Somehow, Eddie manages a smile.

Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.

“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen.

Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now.

Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away.

Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break.

“Blue, you with me?”

Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.

“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest.

Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder.

“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady.

“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.”

“I know.” But maybe I will.

“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.”

Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.”

Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is.

Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.”

It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home.

This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible.

And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie.

He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.

Why not? You need a doctor—

Monsters. Only monsters there.

It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back.

Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch.

He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear.

“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.”

Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.

Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up.

Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away.

It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not…

He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier.

These things don’t happen. They don’t!

“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.”

Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately.

In. Hold. Out. Hold.

He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void.

He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.

Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad.

Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore.

Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue.

He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.

Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve.

“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.”

“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right.

“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue.

“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds.

“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers.

”I want my mom.“

”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?”

Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away.

He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama.

”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.”

And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”

Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared.

And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted.

And now…

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?”

Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this.

“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…”

“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”

And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment.

He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that?

But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk.

“Thank you.”

Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie.

“For, uh. This.”

“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.”

Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness.

“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation.

He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out.

“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.

He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking.

Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small.

Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again.

Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words.

“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?”

“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“

It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again.

“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don��t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?”

Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is.

“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug.

Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt.

“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest.

Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again.

“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.

More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment.

“Not gonna break, Eddie.”

“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.”

The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them.

“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”

It soothes the urge to scream.

Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car.

Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips.

“Later, Ed.”

And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real.

But it did. And it is.

And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside.

He has a phone call to make.

🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)

addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #this is so long i am SORRY #i hope tagging y'all was okay (and equally i'm hoping i missed nobody but also it is 3am)#who did this to you #most of y'all will know most of the beginning already maybe i should have split it up but i wanted y'all to have Something New too #and then the Something New got out of hand and oh well :(#dio words

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 1 year

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Control (M)

Summary:

Seungcheol is the one mistake you should never make. The one you always do. The relationship that you equally have the most and least control over.

Genre: 8k words, College age but school is not mentioned, big dick!Cheol, simp!cheol, fuck buddies, pining, emotional repressed!y/n, y/n describes her relationship with Seungcheol as a mistake a lot, Cheol's possessive

Smut warnings: light degradation, dubcon, creampie, unprotected sex, public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, blowjobs, praise(?)

“So, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re kind-”

You laughed, smiling at the boy in front of you. He was tall, and handsome. Dark, slicked back hair.

“Stop with the flattery,” you insisted. He laughed.

“I can’t help it,” he cooed. “You deserve all the praise in the world.”

He was such a flatterer, but you didn’t even care. You craved the attention that came from such an attractive man. A man that you could brag to your friends for fucking. A man who you wouldn’t see again after tonight.

You let your hand reach forward, your fingers brushing over his biceps. You gave them a small squeeze. He reveled under your touch. He pulled you close to him by your hips, his fingers brushing over the hem of your skirt.

“You’re dancing with the devil, baby,” he commented, and the little nickname felt completely wrong coming from his mouth. But you didn’t care. You needed to be with this guy. Needed to sleep with him to remind yourself who you were.

You needed to sleep with someone. Needed a stranger’s cock to fuck you open.

You needed a change.

“Come on,” you said, your voice soft. “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter. Yongsun.”

His smile only grew, and you knew that he thought he had hit the jackpot. A thrill of pride ran through your body at the fact that he liked you so much. You had been able to so quickly get him to succumb to your touch.

You guided him up the stairs, dragging him into the first empty bedroom you could find. You closed the door behind the two of you and he made his way over to the bed. When you turned around, he was sitting there at the edge. Comfortable even though it was a room that he had never been in before.

“Come here baby,” Yongsun murmured, and the phrase rolled right over your head. You wanted to hit yourself. Come on, get yourself together. He was gorgeous, you were going to get laid. This was exactly what you should want. This was the dream.

Yongsun pulled you closer so that you were in between his legs. He smiled at you, his eyes flickering down your body. His hands slid around you, rubbing over the curve of your ass.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled. You wrapped your arms loosely around Yongsun’s neck, letting him drag you forward, his lips pressing warm kisses to your neck. You tilted your head up, and his hands slid down to your thighs and up under your skirt. His thumbs trailed over the edge of your panties.

“Let’s see how excited you are to be with me,” he mumbled against your neck. His fingers dipped into your panties and then he pulled away.

“Are you…?”

You groaned, pulling away from Yongsun.

“Sorry. Sorry,” you mumbled. “It’s not you I’m just tired...”

Disappointment flickered across Yongsun’s face, but he nodded.

“Yeah, I get it.”

You bid your farewells to Yongsun and as you did you felt eyes on you from across the room. You didn’t have to look to know who it was. Just his gaze made your body heat up. You closed your eyes briefly, exasperated. Fuck, why did he make you feel this way? No one should ever have this much power of you.

You avoided looking at him, instead making your way through the party and out into the cool summer air. You hesitated at the front steps, knowing full well you shouldn’t wait there but needing to anyways.

The door to the house opened less than a minute after you had closed it. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you instantly let your head loll to the side. This times when lips touched your neck you felt it run straight to your core.

“Seungcheol, please-” You mumbled. “I don’t want to tonight.”

Seungcheol ignored you, continuing to press kisses to your neck.

“Really? Is that why you came back downstairs after only five minutes?” He asked you. His fingers dipped under your shirt and you arched your back into his touch. “Come on, you know that you want this just as badly as I do.”

You couldn’t help the desperate noise that left your lips.

“Seungcheol, someone is going to see us,” you whispered, your voice low. You felt him smile against your neck.

“Good,” he mumbled. “Maybe then you’ll admit how much you like me.”

One of his hands dipped beneath the band of your skirt, his fingers dipping into your underwear. His fingers brushed your clit and then dipped further between your folds. He let out a low groan.

“Is all this just for me?” He asked you. You felt his now wet fingers drag back up to your clit, beginning to rub clumsy, slow circles around it. Your head lolled back against Seungcheol, his lips trailing up your body.

His lips finally came up to yours, pressing softly to the corner of your lips. You turned your face to the side, trying to get his lips more firmly on yours but unfortunately for you he turned away with a smile.

“Why’d you leave that other boy, hm?” Seungcheol asked you as he continued to rub your clit in circles. “I could practically see his cock bulging in his pants. He wanted you so badly.”

His hand that was still on your stomach dragged lightly up your body, pressing your bra to the side and wrapping his hand around your boob. His thumb flicked across your hard nipple. You whined.

“I’m not- I-I wasn’t in the mood,” you mumbled, but Seungcheol knew you well enough that he could tell you were lying through your teeth. He chided you softly.

“Well, you’re clearly in the mood now,” he said. He let your lips brush again, but again when you tried to initiate a kiss, he pulled away from you. You bite down on your lip as he pressed his fingers harder on your clit, but his pace was still slow. He was taking his time, cocky about the fact that you wanted him. He knew that you weren’t going to stop him.

You felt pleasure coiling through your body as Seungcheol’s fingers pinched your tits, and you couldn’t help the way your face turned, desperate for his lips. If not just to kiss him, but also to keep the frankly embarrassing moans from leaving your lips.

It was obvious to anyone around how badly you wanted Seungcheol, no matter how hard you pretended not to.

You thanked God no one was around.

You could feel yourself being dragged closer and closer to the edge.

“You going to cum for me?” Seungcheol asked softly. “I can hear how desperate you are. It’s okay to need me, baby. You know I need you too.”

You whimpered, your eyes fluttering closed.

“F-fuck, Cheol, I-”

You heard the door to the house open and you had never unraveled yourself from Seungcheol faster. Your hands patted down your clothes quickly. The person stumbling out of the party glanced at you and you hoped to God they couldn’t tell by your heavy breathing that they had just ripped an orgasm away from you.

The person who had stumbled out of the door glanced at you, their eyes glazed over from the alcohol. They smiled.

“Such a rad party,” the guy said. He stumbled a little, and another person came through the door. A girl. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the arm of the stumbling guy.

“Sorry about idiot here,” she commented. Her eyes flickered to you.

“Y/n…” She mumbled. Her eyes narrowed a bit when she looked behind you. “Seungcheol.”

You both nodded at her, but she didn’t comment on you two any further. To be fair, at this point you two were practically social distanced from one another.

“I’ll see you two around.”

You nodded and you and Seungcheol echoed awkward expressions of agreement. You waited until the two walked away, and once you had seen the two get into a car you felt your head fall into your hands. Disgust filled your body. God, what were you doing?

“Y/n…” You ignored Seungcheol, and he didn’t move. “Y/n, come here.”

You stayed put, and you heard him sigh.

“It’s okay to need my cock baby, come here so I can make you feel good, huh?”

You groaned but you couldn’t help it, you felt yourself moving back over to him just like he wanted. That smile flickered across his lips again, pride to himself at having been able to get you to do what he wanted all over again.

“So good for me,” Seungcheol breathed, wrapping his arms around your body. He pressed his forehead to yours. “You gonna let me have you today?”

You tilted your head up, arms draped over Seungcheol’s shoulders in a similar way as to how it had been with Yongsun not long ago. Seungcheol kept his lips frustratingly away from yours, as if reminding him of how badly you wanted him. Reminding you that despite the fact you pretended in front of others that you didn’t want him, you would do anything for him when it came down to it.

“Please,” you whispered. Seungcheol’s fingers toyed with the hem of your underwear.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Seungcheol replied, his voice steady but low. “Are you going to let me have you today?”

You bit down on your lip, you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t help it.

“Yes,” you agreed, nodding your head. You leaned forward, trying so hard to get his lips, but he still pulled back. “Seungcheol, please.”

Your frustration was starting to grow.

“Stop teasing me, Cheol,” you mumbled. You lowered one of your hands to Seungcheol’s pants. You dipped your hand into them, wrapping your fingers around Seungcheol’s already hard cock. You tugged at it, pulling a groan from Seungcheol.

“I thought you were worried about getting caught,” he mumbled. You shook your head against him.

“I don’t care anymore, I need you,” you mumbled. You gave Seungcheol’s dick another tug, your thumb flicking over the tip. “Besides, everyone here is too drunk off their asses to notice anyways.”

Seungcheol hummed and let you drag him around the side of the house, to a place where you two were hidden in the shadows of the night. You grabbed his pants, dropping them down to his ankles and crouched down. Your tongue darted to like your lips as you took in the sight of his length.

“You don’t even want me to get you home?” Seungcheol asked, his tone was low and teasing. He knew that you were past that. He knew that now that you needed him, you wouldn’t be able to put it off. So you ignored him in favor of sucking his cock into your mouth.

Besides, it was better this way. If you guys fucked here, if you fucked now, then you wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking out of his apartment… Or getting him to sneak out of yours.

He was so proud that he was fucking you. It was hell keeping him from telling others. Every time that you ended up here with the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat he grew cockier. More insistent that you liked him.

Maybe he was right. After all, anyone who didn’t like him wouldn’t be on their knees in a backyard sucking his cock.

Seungcheol groaned, his fingers lightly burying in your hair. His mouth was letting the most perfect little moans and whines leave his lips. The whines proof of his struggle for self-control. You knew how badly he wanted to grab you by your roots and force his cock deep into your throat. He held back on days like this when your attention seemed fickle. He wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave.

You wouldn’t mind it if he fucked your face like his life depended on it, but that wasn’t something you were ready to tell him.

No… That was something you wanted him to figure out for himself.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol grunted. “I thought you said I could have you today?” His voice was so rough. “Get off your fucking knees and pull your skirt up.”

You popped off of Seungcheol’s cock, giving his shaft a few pumps, eyes looking up at him innocently.

“Someone’s needy,” you mumbled. His fingers tightened in your hair.

“If we were having it my way we wouldn’t be outside right now.”

Your lips pressed together, but your core burned regardless. You got to your feet, pulling your skirt up to bunch around your hips and placing your hands on the house. You looked back over at Seungcheol. You wanted to say something cocky, assert your own control over the situation, but instead you just looked at him with wide pleading eyes.

His lips flickered back into a smile, and his hand came down sharply on your ass. A moan was ripped from your body as Seungcheol rubbed the spot he had just hit. His fingers pushed aside your panties, and he pressed two of his fingers into you.

“F-fuck.”

“You’re such a little slut, y/n,” Seungcheol mumbled. You whined, the words, however derogatory feeling like a compliment from his lips. He pushed his fingers into you slowly. Taking his time even though you wanted his cock right now and fast. “But I’m the one who makes you like this aren’t I?”

A whined tore itself from out of your lips.

“Cheol, please,” you whined.

“Left Yongsun just for me,” Seungcheol said, the praise going straight to your core. “Left that bedroom to get fucked by me in the yard. You’re too pretty to let me fuck you out here.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled. A laugh vibrated Seungcheol’s body.

“Yes ma’am.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, and brushed the tip of his cock between your folds. You mewled, your fingers curling into balls. You let your forehead fall forward.

“You’re so perfect, y/n,” Seungcheol murmured. His lips pressed to your lips as he slid his cock into you. You couldn’t help it. The pleasurable burn that ran through your body as his cock filled your body. He was huge, always so fucking huge. You didn’t think you would ever get used to it. “So perfect for me, take my cock so perfectly.”

“You’re such a tease,” you bit out, but your words met thin air. Seungcheol didn’t care that he was teasing you. He didn’t care that him taking his time was driving you crazy. He never did. You rarely came around to begin with.

“Tell me how much you need me, y/n,” Seungcheol breathed. You shook your head, which made Seungcheol’s teeth nip at your neck. Your body shivered; your gaze shot up.

“Cheol,” you blurted. “You know you can’t leave marks.”

“I’m sorry baby,” he mumbled. “I can’t help it. You know I can’t help it. I want everyone to know your mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you bit back. The comment made his cock slip from your pussy. You cried out in desperation, pushing your ass back towards Seungcheol. “Cheol, fuck I-”

You could hear his free hand wrap around his cock, and he started to pump it. You could hear how wet from your pussy he was.

“Cheol, cheol, cheol,” you panted. “I-I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I want to hear,” Seungcheol replied. His pumps were getting faster.

“B-But-”

“You’re not mine yeah? So why should I fuck you?”

Your heart was pounding. You wanted his cock so badly.

“I was lying, okay?” You blurted. “I’m yours, okay? All yours. Please Cheol, please-”

Seungcheol pushed his cock back into you, setting a faster pace. His hand wrapped around your waist again, his fingers pushing down on your clit.

“That’s right baby, you’re all mine,” he agreed. “We both know how badly you need me. Why don’t you show me? Why don’t you show me how badly you need me.”

Your body began to shake as your walls began to clamp around Seungcheol’s dick, your orgasm being ripped from your body like you really were all Seungcheol’s. He fucked you through your orgasm, his lips pressing those kisses to your neck.

“Where do you want my cum?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“Inside.”

Your name fell off of his lips like a promise, his cum being pumped deep inside of you. Your body burned under his attention, your breath coming in heavy pants as his thrusts slowed. He stopped buried deep inside of you. His lips brushed up against your ear. You turned your head, hoping to finally get his lips but he pulled away from you just like he always did.

That was his biggest grab for control in your relationship. He never let you kiss him. No matter how badly you wanted to. No matter how badly he wanted to.

You two were silent for a minute, dragged out of your sex-haze by the front door to the house being opened and closed. You nudged Seungcheol with your elbow.

“We’ve got to go.”

You could feel how badly he didn’t want to go but regardless he pulled himself out of you. You were too nonchalant when it came to him, maybe. You stood up, fixing your panties and brushing down your skirt. Seungcheol pulled his pants back up, hooking his thumbs into his jeans pockets. He stared at you, as you tried to make yourself look like you hadn’t been fucked. You could feel his cum leaking down your legs.

“Can I take you home?” Seungcheol asked. You didn’t respond to him, you just glanced at him. He knew the answer. He sighed, his eyes flitting away from you.

You walked over to him, against your better judgement. You got up to the tips of your toes and you pressed a kiss to his cheek. You tapped his cheek right after.

“We can’t do this again.”

His lips flickered up into a smile.

“You know we will.”

“There she is.”

Mocking applause filled your apartment living room as you emerged from your bedroom after having gotten home at nearly four in the morning. Your two roommates, Seokmin and Dayoung looked at you with matching wide smiles on their lips. You groaned, burying your face in your hands as you walked.

“Another day, another party that you disappear from,” Dayoung said with a whistle. You gave her a mocking life and walked into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door. “The question that remains… Did you get laid?”

Memories of Seungcheol flickered through your mind. You pressed your lips together, forcing a smile.

“You know I did,” you replied, trying to hide your shame. Your fingers twitched. The worst part being that you wanted Seungcheol to be inside of you right now. You shook the thoughts from your head.

“You do nothing but score,” Seokmin said with a surprised laugh. You shrugged off the statement.

“Can’t help it,” you replied. “I’m too pretty.”

Honestly, it was true. You were always getting the attention of other people. If you really wanted, you could have anyone you wanted.

“Aren’t you tired of it?” Seokmin asked you. You frowned.

“Tired of…?”

“Tired of sleeping with different people all the time?” Seokmin asked. “Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

You pretended to entertain what Seokmin had said.

“I’m not interested in just being with one person,” you replied pointedly. “There’s something exciting about fucking someone else every week.” You let a teasing smile cross your lips. “I don’t think just one dick could ever satisfy me.”

You slammed Seungcheol against the wall of his bedroom, desperately pushing his shirt up over his head.

“Come on Cheol,” you insisted. Seungcheol hummed, allowing you to pull his shirt off, watching you as you got down on your knees and began to undo his belt buckle. “Wearing too much. Work with me.”

You threw Seungcheol’s belt to the side and unbuttoned his pants. You pushed his pants down his legs, tearing his underwear down. He wasn’t helping you at all, just watching you in amusement. You didn’t even care, you whined when you saw his cock was out.

“Fuck, I love your cock so much,” you mumbled. You wrapped your fingers around him and gave him a tug.

“Aren’t you worried?” Seungcheol asked, his voice light and airy. “Wonwoo and Mingyu are just through the door.”

“They don’t know it’s me,” you replied pointedly.

Seungcheol chuckled.

“Right, I forgot. You climbed in through the window,” he teased. “All for what? For me?”

“You’re not special,” you mumbled, hoping to knock him down a peg. It probably didn’t help that as soon as you said it you sucked the tip of Seungcheol’s cock into your mouth. He let out an airy moan, and his fingers threaded into your hair.

“I’m feeling pretty special right now,” he breathed. “After all, I’m the one that you’re on your knees for.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled around Seungcheol’s dick. You sucked him deep into your mouth but before you could start setting your own pace Seungcheol’s hands began to guide you over his length. He moved your head slowly up and down, little moans tumbling from his lips as he did.

You placed your hands on his thighs, fingers tightening against him.

“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol whispered, his voice so quiet you almost felt like you weren’t meant to hear it. “So, fucking beautiful.”

He tugged your head up a little, so that your eyes were on his.

“I wish you could see yourself. Mouth stretched out over my cock, eyes wide and perfect for me,” he mumbled. Your gaze flickered down, embarrassed. You tapped his thigh, and his fingers released your hair.

You pulled off of his cock.

“Shut up,” you emphasized again. “Fuck me, Cheol.”

“I’ll always do what you want,” Seungcheol promised. He reached down, his hands grabbing your cheeks. He pulled you up by them, the brief thought flickering through your mind that maybe he was going to kiss you. Of course, once you were up his hands lowered to your chest. His fingers hooked between the buttons of your shirt and then suddenly he pulled. Button’s scattered across Seungcheol’s floor, but before you could complain, he had one hand on your shoulder, the other one pushing your breasts up and out of your bra.

Then, with a solid push you were pushed back onto his bed. You let out a soft whimper before his hands were on your hips. He pulled your pants down your ankles, and then your panties, before falling to his knees in front of you. He hiked your hips closer to him, his tongue darting across his lips.

“I think I’m the luckiest guy alive,” Seungcheol mumbled. “I thought surely… I heard you were on some date with a guy tonight.”

Memories flickered through your mind of your date that night. Dinner at Applebee’s wasn’t exactly your idea of a date. You didn’t know why you always told Seokmin you would go on these dates.

“I was,” you agreed softly. “Not that it’s your business.”

Seungcheol dipped his head forward, his tongue darting between your folds. He licked up to your clit and then sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it. You cried out, arching your back.

“But you’re here with me now,” he mumbled against you. You rolled your eyes.

“You aren’t special, Cheol,” you replied, a breathy moan leaving your lips.

“Right. Cheol.” There was that mocking tone. “Not special at all.” He smiled against you, focusing on eating you out for a few moments. As he sucked on your clit, he slipped his middle finger into you. “But I’m more special than that boy you were with.”

He looked up at you, and your eyes flickered away from him.

“Look at me baby,” he said. You looked back down at him. “What was his name?”

His teeth nipped at your clit as he pushed a second finger into you. You whined.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He pressed his fingers hard into you, making you cry out.

“No, it matters,” he insisted. “Want to know who I am better than.”

“Seungcheol-”

“Shh,” Seungcheol said. He slid up your body, grabbing your hands and dragging you closer to him by his hips again. “I don’t want to hear anything from you until you tell me his name.”

Seungcheol’s dick brushed against your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Cheol you idi-” Seungcheol pushed his tip into you and then pulled it right back out. “Kevin, okay? His name was Kevin.”

Seungcheol pushed himself deep into you, making your entire body arch into his touch. Seungcheol’s lips trailed down to your collarbone, and he smiled against your skin.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget Kevin’s name,” he promised.

Every time you went back to Seungcheol it was stupider. Every time it made him just that much more cocky. You remembered when you were talking to a guy, and your phone vibrated.

Don’t text him: Upstairs. Now.

You had looked at him from across the room, a frustrated expression crossing over your lips.

No, you mouthed.

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows dragging his lips into a downwards smile. He shrugged and made his way up the stairs.

You were up there within five minutes.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you whispered against his neck. He hummed.

“What was his name?”

“Sunwoo,” you breathed. Seungcheol clicked his tongue, pulling your head back by your ponytail.

“Let’s see how long you remember that.”

“Hey bitch,” Sujun exclaimed excitedly. She wrapped her arms around you in a hug, and then pulled away after placing a kiss to your cheek. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” you said with a laugh. “I hate bars but for you? Always worth it.”

She let out part of a whoop, evidence of having pregamed even though it was only five.

“You don’t even know how fun tonight is going to be.”

“Oh, I think she has some idea.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. You turned over your shoulder, shooting Seungcheol a glare that his sister wouldn’t be able to see.

“Seungcheol!” Sujun said excitedly. “You are the perfect person to help me with this! You know what my favorite game to play with y/n is?”

You groaned, burying your face into your hands.

“Sujun-”

“Let’s get y/n laid!”

“Oh.”

Amusement twinkled through Seungcheol’s eyes.

“Well, that sounds hard. I wouldn’t know what y/n’s type is.”

You glared daggers at him while Sujun wasn’t looking.

“Long hair, bright eyes, long face… Not too many muscles…” You trailed off. “The exact opposite of you really.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows danced.

“Hm, sure,” he agreed.

He played that game with Sujun, and she didn’t even realize the underlying jealous tones in Seungcheol’s voice as he spoke about what guys you should go home with. She didn’t notice the look in his eyes when you started talking to the guy they had all decided on.

She didn’t hear you sneaking him into your apartment.

“What was his name?”

“I didn’t even fucking ask.”

Kicking Seungcheol out was the hardest. You almost never invited him over because of it. It was hard enough to leave his place every morning. He always looked at you with big puppy eyes begging you to come back. Promising you that you would be so much happier if you spent the day with him.

When he stayed over you were always quite literally pushing him out.

“You have exactly five minutes before Dayoung gets out of the shower, Seungcheol come on.”

“I’ll be in your bed tonight anyways, why don’t I just stay and wait?” There was a smile on his face even though there was a heavy look in his eyes. “I can stay around like a stay-at-home boyfriend.”

If you were being honest, you had known right away that he had fallen for you and you were just trying to pretend like he hadn’t. It was in his touch, the way he spoke to you. You knew that from the start he had seen you as his and you were holding him at a distance. You were quite literally using him, but he was letting you because you were leading him on and that made you think it was okay.

“I think I’m a bad person,” you admitted. There was too much alcohol in your system for you to be talking about this. You turned your head to look over at Seokmin, as your eyes flitted away from your phone with the singular message of: You’re not out tonight, right? Come over.

“You’re not a bad person,” Seokmin negated with a roll of his eyes. Your lips flickered into a smile.

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what I’m doing.”

Your phone vibrated.

Or are you pretending to be someone else’s tonight?

You groaned and threw your phone at Seokmin.

“Jesus christ, Seokmin I’m such a bad person,” you blurted. He glanced at your phone screen.

“Who is Don’t Text Him?” He asked. You raised your beer to your lips, finishing it off and tossing the can across the room.

“I can’t tell you,” you replied. “But he’s a good guy. And I’m leading him on like a fucking dog.”

“Well, if he’s letting you lead him on-”

You groaned loudly, turning your gaze back over to Seokmin.

“What do I do?” You blurted. “What do I do? He practically thinks we’re together.”

“Just cut it off,” Seokmin replied pointedly. “You can’t lead him on if you aren’t fucking him.”

Easier said than done.

“I fucking can’t stand you,” you whispered as you shut the closet door behind you. “You played it too risky, you can’t be that close to me.”

“You didn’t really seem like you disliked it that much,” Seungcheol teased. His lips were turned up as you pulled his cock from out of his pants. You didn’t even bother to drag them down. You slid your hand up and down his hard cock.

“You aren’t some sex god Seungcheol-”

He grabbed you by your hips and turned you around suddenly. He pushed up your skirt, and aside your panties- Something you were much too accustomed to. His hand came down on your ass, before his fingers slid into your wet heat.

“Come on baby, you need to be honest,” he said softly. “Do you think that your pussy gets this wet for just any man? You’re so perfect for me that you’re already ready for my cock.”

He placed his hands to either side of your body and pressed his cock into you. You felt your head dip a little, pressing your ass back against him. Just proving him right. Just pushing him deeper.

“Fuck baby,” Seungcheol said, his voice close to that of a whine. “You really are so perfect for me, aren’t you?”

“It’s not all for you,” you protested, but even as you spoke you were pushing back against him, silently begging him to go faster.

“No?” He asked softly. “Then who’s it for? Kevin…? Sunwoo…?”

You bite down hard on your bottom lip.

“Seungcheol-”

“No, that’s not what you call me is it?” He asked. His pace was slow. Stupid, Seungcheol and his stupid slow thrusts. He was always taking his time.

“I don’t have time for this,” you grunted. “Faster.”

“Ask me nicer,” Seungcheol replied.

“No-”

“Then I can stop,” Seungcheol agreed. His cock slipped out of you, but it was so brief it practically never happened. You pressed back against him quickly, forcing his cock back into you.

“Don’t stop,” you blurted. “Please, Cheol, I need you so fucking badly. Faster. Please.”

He laughed.

“Of course, I will,” he agreed. “Since you sound so sweet for me.”

He picked up his pace, to the one that you wanted. Nothing being able to be heard from within the closet other than your own moans and the sound of skin on skin. You felt Seungcheol’s lips on your skin and you wished that he would bite down on you. No matter how much you said you didn’t, you wanted people to know.

You were just so scared.

Seungcheol brought you to your orgasm fast, just the way that you were used to from him and his lips brushed your ear as he whispered: “Where?”

And you fought it in yourself not to scream in desperation with your response.

“Inside.” A beat, and honestly more didn’t need to be said but you said it anyways. “Always, inside.”

You let your head bump against the wall in front of you and your fingers curled into balls as Seungcheol’s warm cum started to fill you. You felt an orgasm rip through your body as he fucked his cum into you, and he fucked you through it until you were both panting and coming down from your highs.

After a few minutes he slipped his cock out of you and you felt his cum drip down your thighs a little. You were so annoyed at yourself for letting him fuck you here because now you were going to have to deal with this situation the best you could in a public bathroom, but it was your own fault really.

Aggravation flooded your body at the situation as you pulled your clothes on, and Seungcheol just stood there watching you as you got dressed with that cocky expression on his face. You wanted to hit him.

“This can’t keep happening,” you hissed. As you spoke you heard footsteps from outside of the door. You threw your hands over Seungcheol’s mouth, suddenly finding yourself unable to breathe. Seungcheol’s tongue darted out to your hand, and you pulled away from him. He gave you an amused expression.

“That’s what you say every time,” he said. “You don’t mean it. You’ll be back.”

“I’m serious this time,” you insisted. Seungcheol just smiled, leaning forward. He teased you, his lips hovering just above yours. You fell for his trap of course, tilting your head up to catch his lips. He pulled away.

“Yeah, I can see how serious you are,” he agreed. Frustration bubbled in your stomach, and you pushed open the closet door. You stumbled out and looked around the hallway. Luckily, no one was around.

“What if someone caught us?” You asked him. “What if your sister found out?”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Who cares?” He asked. You shot him a glare.

“I care. She’ll have my head.”

“She’ll get over it,” he replied. The topic of his sister was bothering him, but you didn’t think it was for the reasons most people would be annoyed. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed with keeping this secret from her.”

“It’s not just keeping this secret from her,” you shot back at him. You started to walk away from him, but he was following you. You were betting on him following you, honestly. “This isn’t something that should be happening. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

��We have,” Seungcheol agreed.

“Which is exactly the point. This is a mistake Seungcheol. Every time we have done this, it’s been a mistake.”

Seungcheol grabbed you by your wrist.

“A mistake, huh?” He asked. “Was it a mistake every time you said you were mine? Whenever you begged me for my cum? Every time you sabotaged whatever connection with whatever guy you were with that night just to end up fucking me?”

“God, you’re so cocky,” you blurted. You ripped your wrist out of Seungcheol’s grasp and pushed hard at his chest. “It meant nothing. It means nothing. You just have a good cock, Seungcheol. That’s it.”

Hurt shot through Seungcheol’s eyes but you didn’t back down. You stood your ground, crossing your arms over your chest. You glared at him as he waited for you to take back your words.

You two stared at each other and then you heard someone from beside you say something. Your eyes widened and you put some space between you and Seungcheol. Real fear of being recognized, and having your dispute being acknowledged as just that: a dispute running through your body.

Once the person had passed your eyes flickered back to Seungcheol. He scoffed at you.

“Got it,” he bit out. “This really is the last time.”

Seungcheol walked away before you could say another word.

Honestly? There was something in the back of your throat as you watched Seungcheol walk away. You tried to remind yourself that Seungcheol didn’t matter. Tried to remind yourself about what you had just been saying. That Seungcheol was a mistake. Something that should have never happened.

But still, you felt something achy in your stomach as you looked at him.

In the weeks that followed Seungcheol didn’t reach out to you, and you didn’t reach out to him. You went to parties just as usual, but his eyes weren’t on you anymore.

And when you went upstairs with someone, and they turned up dry… You just ended up going home and having to take a cold shower.

“Your nights have been short recently,” Seokmin commented one morning. You glared at him as you chugged a cup of orange juice, frankly desperate to get your raging headache to calm down.

“There’s not a lot of fish in the sea.”

Seokmin chuckled.

“You should go on a date.”

You didn’t want to go on a date. You were feeling empty inside for a reason that you could not understand. Every single person that you tried to fuck was a disappointment, someone that you just couldn’t imagine being inside you.

Still, you ended up agreeing to go. Maybe it would snap you out of this… Whatever this was.

You wanted to scream when you saw Seungcheol sitting at a table with some girl. You didn’t know who it was and you were literally on a date with someone else but you didn’t care.

“Can we sit…” You pointed to the table across from where Seungcheol was on his date. The waitress had a look of confusion flicker across her brows, but she nodded.

“Yes, that’s perfectly fine,” she replied. Han shot you a confused look, but you shot him back a distracting smile.

“It’s a nice table, yeah?”

You spent the whole night ignoring Han. Spent it staring at Seungcheol like your life depended on it. Your eyes flickered from between Han and Seungcheol. Each smile from Seungcheol to that girl set your chest a flame.

Fuck, this date couldn’t go well. It couldn’t because if it did it was really over between the two of you and you weren’t ready for that. It hadn’t been over yet. Not really, but this. This made it feel real.

“So, then he-”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you blurted. Han gave you another confused look but you didn’t care. You briskly got up from the table, bumping into Seungcheol as you passed him. Your eyes caught his and an apologetic smile spread over your lips, an attempt at hiding your desperation.

“Sorry,” you blurted. “I was just on my way to the bathroom.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth you were walking back to the bathroom. You had barely made it through the door before Seungcheol was pushing through it too.

“Y/n, fuck,” Seungcheol blurted. “What are you-”

“Mine,” you mumbled. You wrapped your arms around Seungcheol’s body. “You’re mine. Not hers, mine.”

Your fingers fumbled at Seungcheol’s belt, unbuckling it and pulling out Seungcheol’s dick. You could feel it hardening under your touch. You hopped up onto the bathroom counter, hiking up your dress.

“Come on,” you insisted. You didn’t care that you hadn’t eased yourself open yet, you needed to remind Seungcheol that he was obsessed with you. You tugged Seungcheol closer, wrapping your legs around his hips and rubbing his tip through your folds. “Cheol, please. I need you.”

“You’re on a date too,” Seungcheol said, his voice strained. His hands came to your hips, tightening on the fabric bunched there. He pulled it up a bit.

“So, you did see me,” you mumbled. He had just been pretending all night not to see you. You wondered, selfishly, if all those laughs had been real. The flirty smile on his lips had been undeniable.

“Of course, I saw you,” Seungcheol replied. “You’re mine. When I heard you were going on this stupid date, I nearly lost my mind.”

Seungcheol pushed his cock deep inside of you, making you cry out. You wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck. You pressed a few kisses to his neck, trying to hide moans there.

“Your pussy was made for my cock,” Seungcheol mumbled. “Your body was made to be mine.”

You nodded against Seungcheol’s skin.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “You’re right. I don’t know why I pretended for so long.”

Your teeth nipped down on Seungcheol’s neck, making him hiss, his hips stuttering against you.

“You’re breaking your own rules baby,” he mumbled. You mewled, tilting your own head up.

“Fuck my rules.”

Seungcheol had been looking for permission to mark you since this had started. His teeth immediately bit down on your neck, and he smoothed over the mark as soon as he left it. Normally when Seungcheol fucked you he was slow and agonizing but not tonight.

“What finally triggered it?” Seungcheol asked you, his lips still against your neck.

“Can’t stand you smiling at that girl,” you admitted breathlessly. “Can’t stand you on a date with anyone else.”

“We’re not dating, y/n,” Seungcheol reminded you. “We’re not dating because you don’t want to.”

His words were rough, but his lips curved into a smile.

“Seungcheol I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know why I pretended I didn’t want you.”

Seungcheol grunted his agreement to your words.

“I should leave you here. Soak you with my cum and not let you cum. Make you sit in here thinking about the fact that I’m on a date with someone else. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone who appreciates me.”

You wrapped your arms even tighter around Seungcheol’s body terrified that he was going to honor his words.

“But she’s not yours Seungcheol,” you insisted. “I’m yours.”

Seungcheol nodded.

“That you are baby,” he agreed softly. “All mine. My jealous little girl.”

“I’m not-” Why were you trying to lie right now? You were the one who had dragged Seungcheol here. Made him come into this bathroom. Practically begged him to fuck you.

“It’s okay that you’re a little jealous,” Seungcheol cooed. “I’m jealous too. Hate it when I see other men draped all over you. Hate it when they look at you and think that they have a fucking chance.”

“They don’t,” you breathed. “Not really Cheol. No one has really had a chance with me since I started fucking you.”

Seungcheol hummed and it sounded unconvinced, but his grip tightened on you. He was getting closer.

“Seungcheol, I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Seungcheol shook his head.

“Y/n-”

“I mean it, I really do,” you insisted, knowing he was going to negate your words. “It’s not just because you’re fucking me. I love you.”

Seungcheol raised his lips to yours. His thrusts slowed for a moment and one of his hands raised to your cheek. His lips flickered back into a smile, and his lips brushed yours teasingly.

“Say it again,” he said softly. Your eyes fluttered shut and you began to roll your hips down to meet Seungcheol’s thrusts.

“I love you Seungcheol,” you repeated, sounding wrecked.

“Good girl,” he breathed. His lips pressed to yours. Chastely, at first, and then more heated as time went by. It was like he was starving, desperate for your lips and honestly? That’s how you felt. All these months you had wanted to kiss him. All this time you had needed to feel his lips on yours.

To finally feel his lips? You were so fucking relieved.

All this time you had been afraid to admit how much you needed him. All this time you had been scared of your own feelings. Because it was Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol. You weren’t supposed to be in love with him. You weren’t allowed to be in love with him.

If he had kissed you before, you thought that this would have been so much easier.

“I love you too, y/n,” he admitted softly. His fingers came down between you two, rubbing slow circles on your clit. “You going to cum for me?”

You whined against his lips, nodding, desperate, needing him to kiss you more. You chased the connection, but he kept his lips just slightly away from you.

“That’s my good girl,” he mumbled. “Be good and cum for me baby.”

“K-Kiss me, Cheol,” you whined back. He nodded.

“Anything for you,” he said. “Anything for my perfect little girl.”

His lips pressed back to yours and as soon as he did you began to come around his cock. You dragged him right over the edge with you. He didn’t even ask if it was okay to cum inside of you but that only filled you with comfort. He knew you were his. He knew that your pussy was all for him to cum inside.

Seungcheol’s thrusts progressively came to a stop, and his body collapsed against yours. Completely spent, but he didn’t stop kissing you regardless. You found yourself gasping against his lips, so fucking desperate and needy and you didn’t even care.

Seungcheol pulled back, always the one pulling back, always stronger than you were when it came down to it.

“You have to go back to your date baby,” Seungcheol said. He slipped himself out of you, and you let your head fall back against the mirror. You shook your head in exhaustion. “I don’t want-”

“Shh,” Seungcheol whispered back. “I’ll see you again soon now, won’t I?”

You nodded your agreement. Seungcheol grabbed you by your hips, dragging you off the counter. He pulled your panties back into place and pulled your dress down. You stared at him, chest heaving as he tried to make you look presentable. His lips flickered into a smile.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours briefly.

“Okay.”

He pulled away from you and just as he did you grabbed his wrist.

“Come over tonight,” you whispered. His lips flickered up.

“Yeah?” He was silent for just a second, but his excitement was obvious. “Can I stay over?”

You nodded once, and his smile grew larger.

“And we can get breakfast together?”

Another nod, and it looked like his smile was going to break his face in half.

“You promise?” He asked.

“You’re the one who said that we have to get back to our dates,” you insisted. You pushed at his back, trying to get him out of the bathroom. “I promise, okay?”

Seungcheol turned around again quickly and pressed his lips to yours in another fast kiss. He smiled at you and then took a deep breath.

“Okay. But don’t go back on it.”

Before you could assure Seungcheol that you wouldn’t go back on the promise he was finally leaving the bathroom.

Han knew you were lying when you came back to him and told him that you weren’t feeling well but despite knowing it was a lie he didn’t know exactly why you were lying. He gave you a smile, saying he understood and also insisting that you get some rest.

You were honest when you told him that you were sorry about the date going bad and that you didn’t think you two should go on a second one. Honest when you told him you thought you liked someone else.

And the embarrassment of having to end the date in that way completely vanished when you kept your promise to let Seungcheol stay the night. And that wasn’t the last time that you kept that promise to him.

Taglist: ... @vintageot5, @woo8hao, @toruro, @wonudazed

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