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nnight-dances · 7 months ago

Text

CASUAL

PAIRING: karina x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut (explicit, but not too much?)

TROPES: fwb to lovers except you're roommates and best friends, unrequited love but not really.

LISTEN TO: casual by chappell roan

NOTE: i may be having a bit of a military wife moment rn but i'm still a sapphic at heart yearning for something more... my first gay fic i've posted on this account yay! cannot reveal if ive been in a similar situation but you could say this is based on real life! whose life, i will not say. hope u enjoy and stay safe everyone <3

knee-deep in the [twin bed] and you're eating me out

you want to say you're in control when it happens, but you'd be a big fat liar if you did. truth be told, karina had you wrapped around her finger since she moved in. (in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.)

you met her late freshman year in college when you shared a gender studies course with her – which alone would've been enough of a clue to which ways she swings, if not for the black leather jacket and unnecessary amount of rings she wore to class. she'd sat next to you the first week in and approached you after class. "this class is a bore," she said as a matter-of-factly, "wanna get coffee with me?"

you'd agreed because you were mesmerized (even though secretly, that was the favorite course you took that year) and followed her into a cafe, letting her sweet talk you into all kinds of things from there. she had a big friend group which welcomed you generously when they found out you were friends with karina and eventually, that became your everyday life.

you worked on papers sincerely while karina watched you with an unreadable glint (maybe it was unreadable, maybe you didn't want to read too much into it), swirling her untouched coffee. eventually one day, she asked you, "wanna be roommates next year?"

that was karina. easy-going and confident. she didn't hesitate to ask you to do things with her, even if they were often bending the boundaries of what friends could do. exhibit a: she'd asked you to make out with her at a party just so she could shake off a creep. in general, she was touchier than the normal person, finding a way to cup your stomach under your shirt when you weren't looking. you get the idea.

that's how when she moves into the same room as you sophomore year, you lost all sense of self and reality. you have to thank your mom who convinced you to arrive on campus a day earlier than most, so you could settle in without the bothersome crowd.

you're in the middle of fixing a poster of your favorite band, the strokes, in the wall when she lets herself in with a, "you're already here, jagiya!" you almost lose your footing on your chair in order to face her, heart already a fluttering mess thanks to her shameless flirting.

"karina!" you call out, thrilled to see your friends, complications aside. you step down carefully before throwing yourself in her waiting arms. "you're here earlier than i thought."

she pulls away with a devilish grin, "missed you too much so i came early." she looks around the room, "i see you've already made this place home."

you smile, unsettled by the way she's still holding you in her arms, your bodies attached at the hip as she takes in her home for the next year. she smells like she always does: like grapefruit and spicy cedar. you feel relaxed in her embrace, taking in her appearance. she's wearing a cropped tank with a large flannel that slips off her shoulder thanks to the heavy tote she carries.

with a sigh, you take the tote off her. "your hair grew longer," you comment as you place the bag on her desk. karina does a little spin for you, giving a full view of the wavy locks that came all the way to her navel. it only made her that much more charming (you couldn't resist wanting to know what it would feel like to run your fingers through them).

you watch as karina lugs all her stuff into the room, refusing your help with a strict look. "can't have you spraining something already, jagiya," she quips and that's all it takes for you to sit back obediently. she takes off her flannel, letting you take in her arms. was it just you or did her biceps get bigger? (it wasn't just you. karina spent her summer the gym rat way.)

"you barely have any stuff…" you murmur mindlessly when she's nearly done in half an hour. for reference, it took you three whole hours for two days to set your stuff in place.

"you just have a lot of stuff," karina laughs, closing her closet with a satisfied clap. "thoughts on ordering in for din'?"

you raise a brow, "shouldn't we at least go see if everyone's back?"

she shrugs, "we can just go after we eat." she approaches your bed, resting her forearms next to you. "come on, i don't feel like eating that prison food just yet."

despite karina's exaggeration (your dining hall makes perfectly edible food), you let karina order for you. who are you kidding? the thought of sharing a meal with your newly established roommate in your new room on your first day together… it was sweet, you had to admit. so you give in and tell karina exactly what toppings you want on your bowl.

but where you had expected to bond in all kinds of cozy ways with karina, the night quickly an unexpected turn. you're not sure how it happens but you end up caged under karina's body on your bed. her hot breath is hitting your face, "you got even prettier over the summer, huh?"

her words make it harder to think. to think about how this your best friend slash roommate slash the person you would do anything for. fuck, it's too late and you're too helpless when it comes to her. karina's already sliding her hand down your stomach, eliciting a mewl of her name from your throat.

she looks pleased, chesire grin lighting up her face when she reaches your panties. "mhm, karina–" you claw at her shoulder when a cold finger meets your slick folds. she kisses your cheek and then your mouth, so strong that you can't do anything but hold her closer to your chest till she's ripping a scream from you.

"karina, what are we doing?" you cry out, still coming down from your orgasm. what the fuck, this not a situation to be with your roommate.

"what?" she whispers, lips attached to your neck without a care in the world, "i'm just doing what i've been wanting to all summer."

"okay, that's enough," you push her off until you're both sat. you're breathless so it doesn't help the gravity of the glare you hold karina captive under. she sits back on her palms, eyes hooded.

"we're friends," you start and sensing the protest rising in her, you hold up a hand, "and roommates. you know what they say about that, don't you?"

"don't shit where you eat," she deadpans, "but i don't care. i'm not shitting anywhere. i like you, you like me. that's why we're friends. if we want to fuck around a little, what's the big deal?"

you contain a scoff at how unbothered she is. at the same time, her words stab you in the heart, the subtle friendzoning nature of them not going unnoticed (that's why we're friends? what if you wanted to be more?)

"listen, jagiya," karina shifts dangerously closer, a thumb wiping away the sweat on your lip. "it's chill. we don't have to if you don't want to. but i'll tell you right now; i want to do things with you."

"things?" you breathe even though you know you shouldn't fall into her trap.

"yeah," she caresses your cheek, licking her lips, "want to kiss you. make you come. that sort of thing."

you fall against her weakly, feeling the soft strands of her hair envelope you like a dream. with your eyes closed, all you can feel is warmth of her body and none of the cold of her words (kiss, fuck, chill. no love.)

"only if you let me eat you out, too," you finally murmur against her skin. feel her shake with laughter.

"thought you'd never ask."

you wake up in karina's arms. she'd dozed off in your bed as if hers wasn't two hops away. the thoughts makes you flushed (despite everything) and you turn around to face her. she's still asleep, peaceful as ever. you trace the mole below her lips, envious of how little she was attached to you.

not to drown yourself in self-pity, you had always been too attached to karina for your own good. a week into being friends with her, you would jump at a text from her, dropping everything to meet at her the cafe she had wanted to try or to help her get ready for a party.

but it wasn't without reason. she was sweet to you, genuinely. karina sensed your moods smoothly, knowing when your silence was more than comfortable and when your drunk crying meant you were actually upset over something. she listened to you, no matter how little you claimed the problem to be, her reliable shoulder always yours when you were in trouble.

so you couldn't blame the butterflies in your stomach at waking up with her. right?

"we never made it to meeting our friends," karina mumbles through a yawn later. you're both in the middle of getting ready for the day, thankfully still a grace day before classes start.

"you clearly had other plans," you purse your lips in the mirror, working on fixing a bump in your hair. stupid karina and her arm under your head all night.

she comes up behind you with a playful smile, taking the brush from your hands to rake it through your hair herself. "you say that like you didn't have fun," she says. she brings your hair into a bun, taking a hairtie off her wrist to secure it in place. patting your head with eyes on you in the mirror, "there. you look cute."

you heave a deep sigh at the motions that stir up at her actions, sliding away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. "we should go meet them today," you say, "or they might declare us dead."

"definitely," karina laughs.

meeting your friends helps you a little. maybe it's because you're seeing them after so long or maybe it's just the fact that you have normal friend feelings for them. but it's nice, you can lose yourself in a nonsense conversation with seungkwan about your recently acquired obsessions with various mobile games.

he's in the middle of offering to show you his brand-new coffee machine when karina shouts, "guys! gather up! minjeongie is driving us to get ice-cream! on her!"

you spot the short blonde attacks on karina at the presumably false declaration. your rommate dodges well, bent in a fit of laughter at minjeong's tantrum. "okay, i lied! everyone buy your own ice-cream."

as it turns out, minjeong's car is definitely not big enough to fit all 8 of your friends. "looks like we're fighting it out the fairest way," seowon declares, readying her fist for rock paper scissors.

"since only five of us can go," karina starts, somehow finding her way next to your side. you shiver when her hands clasps yours. "minjeong, y/n, and i are definitely going."

you watch in shock as everyone wreaks havoc at her words. "now why would we allow that–"

"see, it's technically just two seats taken," she explains calmly, "y/n's sitting on my lap anyway." you gape at her audacity as she holds up your intertwined hands, like a wedding announcement.

you try to weasel out of her grip, mumbling, "that's fine. i don't really want to go–"

"what? of course you do," karina's hand tightens and you curse her strength, "you love ice-cream, jagiya. come on. let's go."

your friends seem dubious of the interaction but with a few statements along the lines of they're in their honeymoon phase as roomies, they return to the rock-paper-scissors battle at hand, now the stakes reduced to four seats now.

"calling shotgun by the way!" karina calls as she pulls you after. you don't know what to say honestly, overwhelmed by her hand in yours. you had expected her to pretend things were the same as always but clearly not: you had never gone as far to sit in her lap with your friends around (alone was a different story. but you swear you'd only ended up in her lap because she'd wanted to hug you through your breakup with your ex.)

"karina, you're crazy," you tell her, finally shaking your hand free. you cross your arms and karina simply takes a chug of water from the brita in geum's minifridge.

"why? because i volunteered my lap so we'd get to go?"

before you can really give her a piece of your mind, minjeong interrupts. "looks like they figured out the winners. we're leaving in the next five minutes or the offer's off the table."

–

two weeks and your mom invites me to [lunch]

"y/n, it's so nice to see you again," karina's mom is saying, sliding a menu toward you. thanksgiving week was around which meant parents were abundant on campus these days. it also meant your own mom couldn't make it because she was swamped with work, no thanks to her job as an on-field reporter.

"of course, you've lost so much weight since we last met, eommeoni," you smile.

this is fine for the most part of it. you genuinely enjoy karina's mom's company. she's kind and sincere, always bringing a gift for you along with karina and treating you like her own. but this time around it's different because it's the first time you've been sleeping with her daughter.

in fact, just that morning, karina had kept you in bed longer than usual, complaining because you had gone to bed earlier than usual. it had been part of your plan to keep your conscience clean for when you met her mother, to make sure you didn't lose her respect. but being the nefarious idiot she was, karina had crawled up your torso, eyes going sweet at you, "please, just once?"

so now you had a dirtier conscience than usual, having been panting in karina's lap just hours before this lunch.

but even if you tried to maintain composure in front of her mom, karina made it impossible. she slid close to your shoulder, hand splayed across your bare thigh (curse you and your decision to wear your sundress out today). it's honestly harmless and even excusable as a friendly gesture, but ever so occassionally, her hand climbs up, reaching closer and closer to a position that was far from appropriate.

"so tell me, do you two have any classes together this semester?" karina's mom asks you between mouthfuls of rice. you take the chance to peel karina's hand off but it ends up at your knee like a magnet.

"not really," karina answers easily as if unaware of the power struggle going under the table. probably because she was winning by a mile.

"i told karina she should take an elective with me but she refused," you complain, deciding if this was the way you could hit back then so be it.

"i think you forgot to mention it was an economics elective," she corrects you, hand basically clawing at your inner thight by now. you shift uneasily and karina's mom laughs.

"you know jimin," she shakes her head, "she doesn't take the serious courses. only painting all day long."

"eomma," karina groans, "how many times do i have to tell you? it's not just painting. i'm an arts major. that's like the second hardest major at this school."

"really? what's the hardest major?" (the only right question for a mother to ask.)

the rest of the lunch goes by quickly, fortunately for you. you're the first out the door, eager to put some distance between you and karina. you pretend to fan yourself out of the hot mess she's made of you.

"i have to say," karina's mom says as she gets ready to leave, "you two seem to have gotten closer since you started rooming together."

"really?" karina wonders as if clueless to the arm around your shoulder, where it had been the whole walk back to campus from the restaurant. (insufferable, you whisper to her. cute, she accuses you.)

"thanks for sticking next to her, y/n. who knows where my little girl would be without you?"

you brush of karina's mom's words of flattery, not voicing the thoughts that arise. where would i be without your daughter?

–

i know what you tell [our] friends

imagining a life without karina becomes terribly real when it becomes clear to you that karina truly has no intentions of treating as anything more than a friend who she sleeps with and not just as roommates.

it's a cold slap of reality that you finally feel one day when you're eating with minjeong and seungkwan. karina's next to you, like she so often is, hand on your elbow for no good reason.

"so everyone's been wondering…" minjeong starts to say and seungkwan shoots her a glare, realizing where this was going.

"...are you two a thing?" she points to the point of contact between you and karina.

"what?" you squeak, pulling away at the call-out. but your mind goes blank, all the excuses you had practiced in your head deserting you. you had expected someone to catch on sooner or later, but somehow right now all you can think of is how you already miss karina's touch. i'm in love with her, it occurs to you to say. (wait, you love her? you wonder distantly as if the answer hadn't been crystal clear the minute she crossed lines with you.)

karina shrugs, "we're fucking. but it's casual. no attachment or anything." she adds with an arm around you, "just girls being girls, right?"

you muster out a laugh to agree with her, ignoring the concerned look seungkwan pins you with. minjeong seems convinced though, "no way! you're sleeping together? i guess it must be convenient… you live together."

"yeah, you could say that," this time it's you responding, swallowing the tremble in your throat. you'd rather die than let karina get a whiff of your true feelings. you stand up.

"it's easy." it's the hardest. "not a big deal." you thought about it every waking second. "i have class now though. see you guys later."

you did not have class. you ran to the nearest bathroom stall to lock yourself in and let out the sobs that had been threatening your system for the past three weeks. you make sure nobody can hear you and then wipe your tears with the spare tissues you carry in your bag.

you leave, hoping nobody notices your red eyes.

that night, you go to your room later than usual, counting on karina to be asleep. you should know better though because she's up, in nothing but her night shorts, sitting on your bed.

it almost frustrates you for a moment, the sight of her curled up so comfortably on your bed like you were lovers. but you weren't. you weren't even close. but she perks up like maybe you are, calling out your name sweetly, "you're so late today. is everything okay?"

"yeah," you say, not making eye-contact for too long as you rest your bag on your desk. you contemplate leaving the room just so you didn't have to feel this hot volcano erupt in your chest. but instead, you undress, aware of karina's unwavering gaze. you make sure to slip off your pants and put on a baggy shirt. no shorts, like karina liked.

"we're a fully dressed person put together," she liked to joke when she'd bring your bodies close. you laughed along but all you wanted was to actually be one person with her. maybe that would justify why you were so attracted to her.

"come on,," she coos when you jump into bed. "i know something's wrong. your eyes are red. your shoulders heavy."

"can't lie for one second with you, can i?" you sigh into her skin when she hugs you.

"sorry, jagiya. maybe if i was a man, you could get away with it."

maybe that would make it easier. if one of you was a man. at least then someone would bat an eye at the concept of a no strings attached situationship between best friends. you were practically begging for someone to object to its apparently platonic nature. (you were begging yourself.)

"i didn't even shower," you complain when she explores your bare stomach with her fingers.

"it's fine. we'll just take one in the morning."

she holds you to the promise, waking you up half an hour earlier than usual just so she could drag you into the shower. two girls showering together, a sight nobody would see because it was dead quiet until an hour from now.

–

i try to be the chill girl

you knew it was too good to be true, your friends-with-benefit situation with karina. but now that your feelings are actually catching up to you, you can barely hold in the tears that overwhelm you when you look at her.

then, when you finally decide to suck it up and show up to dinner with your friends, it all goes south. thanks to some dumb group project karina's doing, a guy named taeyong was at your table. you knew him by name from college gossip. he was fit to be the protagonist of a rom-com, nice guy with the looks to go with it and he was friendly, fitting right in with the group of friends.

bitterly, you reflect on how long it had taken you, in comparison, to warm up to everyone. a month, maybe? plus, he looked perfect next to karina, their unusually good looks matching each other's quality.

you're not the only thinking that because geum pipes up, "you two look good together! when's the wedding?"

seowon hits his arm though most of the people on the table join in laughter. (you don't.) "come on, you can't force it, geum," she says, "they're clearly still getting to know each other."

"so it'll be official in say, a week from now?" minjeong teases, earning herself a blush from taeyong. karina is unruffled but she does smile a little at the teasing comments, side-eyeing the boy next to her.

right. they did look good together.

much to your discomfort, karina and taeyong only seem to become closer, with the latter frequenting your table at every meal. he assimilated easily with the group, already circulating inside jokes that you were conveniently not a part of.

speaking of which you were circulating a word tornado yourself: casual, no attachement, chill, convenient, easy… not a big deal. as taeyong became a regular with your friends, you became increasingly absent, coming up with excuses to take your meals at much earlier or later hours.

you're officially spiraling, doing your best to avoid karina. but avoiding karina meant avoiding your friends. it was a harsh truth but you came to realize you were only friends with them because of her and if you decided to break things off with her, you'd also end up a loner.

it was a cold, miserable place to be in, your mind. you left your room early and came back late to karina asleep. she'd tried to stay up for your sake a few times but you'd made your arrivals later and later, until she gave up and went to sleep.

you know you can only avoid her for so long before she caught you and grilled you but for now, you just had to come up with a way to keep yourself occupied. that afternoon, you get a text from her, asking to talk to you after dinner. you leave her on read for hours before texting back a quick "sure," afraid to go too far. you may be mad at karina for treating you in ways that left you confused, but you didn't actualy want to hurt her.

but come the time when finally face her and you realize it may be too late.

"so… why exactly have you been avoiding me?" more than anything, karina's voice is weary. she appears worried when you first take a seat across from her but when you don't look like you're in actual physical pain, her expression morphs into one of frustration.

"i'm not," you sigh, "i'm just busy."

"busy during every single meal? busy enough to leave before i wake up?"

"i'm taking more classes than usual," you say and though it's the truth, it's far from being the reason why you were acting this way. karina seems to know this.

"i'm taking an art class that has me staying back in the studio till 11," she tells you. only then, you notice the black charcoal marking her cheek. "but i still come home."

"sorry," you mumble, averting your gaze. "i'm not– you didn't do anything. i'm just… thinking through some things. i'll come back to the room earlier today."

"great, so now we're not close enough for you to share your thoughts with me?" this time karina actually sounds hurt. it was the indication of your friendship finally falling apart that has her sitting forward, eyes blinking in panic. "y/n, what the fuck?"

what the fuck, indeed. you try your best to reassure karina but it seems like she's done talking to you after that point so you see yourself out. a small part of you manages to wonder whose jacket was laid across the chair next to her. taeyong?

you find the answer the hard way when you come back to your room at a reasonable hour for the first time in a week. only to run into taeyong himself.

he seems like he's in a hurry when you step in, rushing to put his jacket on (yes, the jacket that you saw next to karina earlier today) and avoiding your gaze. you don't even pretend to seem pleased encounter him there.

you fix your glare on karina, kneeling on her bed. she lets out a sigh when she sees you. "you're finally back."

you watch as taeyong leaves without a goodbye and you scoff, "i feel like i interrupted something. maybe i shouldn't have come back." you feel the blood rush to your head, all your convictions to lay out your unreciprocated feelings out to karina because she deserved an explanation.

right now, you just feel empty. and mad. so as soon as you rest your bag, you get to changing. but not into your night clothes.

"are you going somewhere?"

"...maybe."

"and what happened to our talk earlier?"

with a huff of disbelief, you throw your sweaty shirt on your bedroom floor. "well, i decided it meant nothing when i saw that guy leaving our room."

"taeyong?" karina looks baffled and you want to shake some sense into her so bad.

"yeah, i don't know, karina, the thought of you already replacing me with some dude–" you cut yourself off when your voice breaks. "it's not a great feeling. so i'm just gonna leave."

"wait, what?" karina jumps out of her bed. "is this what you've been mad about all week?"

you pause your angry movements about your space when she comes close to you, touching your arm, first contact in days. you breathe unevenly, "karina, i just need some time–"

"are you crying, jagiya?"

you want to say it's stupid nickname that gets to your nerves finally breaking your walls down. but really, it's the warmth in her tone, the sound of her breath hitting your ear so close. you'd missed karina. that's why you end up sobbing, arms finding her neck to support you.

"karina, i'm–" she rubs your back calmly through your sobs. "i'm sorry."

"what's wrong, baby? why are you crying? please, talk to me."

"i think… i'm in love with you."

your confession is quiet, just like your love for karina has always been. actually no, that's what you want to think but no, your love is loud: you look for her in every room you enter, hands already welcoming hers when she runs over to you. you're the first to laugh at her jokes, no matter how nonsensical or how many times she's told them to you. you may be a flustered mess when things got intimate, but you always made sure karina felt good, too – going far beyond your comfort zone to please her.

karina pulls away with a soft gasp. "that's not what i expected you to say."

"i know," you sniffle. "but it's been killing me. i know you wanted to keep things casual. and i know you and taeyong are–"

"okay, just so we're clear for once and for all– there is nothing between me and taeyong."

you freeze in shock, having been rock-solid in your assumption of their relationship. "what?"

"come on, i barely know the guy. but apparently, everyone's teasing got to his head," karina sighs, "he came here to confess to me earlier today. and i rejected him."

now his urgency to leave the room makes even more sense, you realize slowly. but you realize another thing: karina had looked cold when you'd entered, ending things with him clearly. yet, here you were, standing with her arms around your waist as if you hadn't declared your love for her.

"...and?" you prod her, biting your lip hopefully.

"and?" karina echoes you, eyes locking in yours to understand your hint. "oh, you wanna know how i feel?"

you nod coyly, a stray tear falling down your cheek as if on cue.

"well, let's start with a recap of this week. you ignored me so i felt like shit for most of it. and then you ignored me some more and i had to go to sleep lonely and sad. then, you stopped showing for meals so i didn't even want to eat anymore. what happened next? oh right, this evening. i had to practically beg you to talk to me–"

"okay, i get the idea!" you stop her with a groan, "i'm sorry, but i clearly had good reason to act the way i did."

"did you?" karina is suddenly holding your face, smiling turning bittersweet. "you idiot."

"huh?"

"i wanted to keep things casual because i wasn't sure how you felt about me. i wanted you to keep your options open till someone who you actually liked came along–"

"but–"

"this was long before i knew you were into me like that. you're really hard to read, you know? but yeah, i kept things casual because i'm selfish. i wanted to sleep with the girl i love without losing her friendship. i was obviously an–"

"idiot!" you hit karina's arm repeatedly at her revelation, tears filling up your vision yet again. "you love me?! why would you do that to me, then? are you–"

karina catches your fists in her with a heave, "i know, i know. i'm sorry, jagiya. but–" she brings your first to her chest, exposed by the deep neck of the tank she wore to sleep. "i'm serious about you, okay? i didn't want to gamble someone i cherished over some fucking around."

your body feels weak now that the truth is out in the open. you lean into karina. "you're so mean," you say into her neck, "i thought… you were chill."

she laughs at your complaint, "sorry. i'm dumb. dumb in love?"

you let karina coax you into her bed that night, kissing your body free of the tension you'd carried all that week like she was nursing you back to health. you can't help the tears that escape at her sweet touch, not new for her by any means – but different for you nevertheless, now that you knew how she felt. later that night, when you're falling asleep in her arms, in her twin bed this time, you feel her snuggle closer. warm nose against your cold cheek, she kisses you goodnight. (and a soft love you that you can barely distinguish from a dream.)

#karina x y/n #karina x you #karina x reader #karina aespa #aespa fics #aespa x reader #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #karina fics #aespa imagine #karina imagines #karina fluff #aespa fluff #aespa scenarios #karina angst #kpop fic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

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kickbackkanzaki · 1 month ago

Text

The Dungeon Master and Chess Queen

You're the new student and chess captain at Hawkins High. When Eddie Munson asks you for tutoring you're certain you have him handled but you may have underestimated his strategy.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

"Eddie! Hey Eddie!" Dustin call and waved his had in front of Eddie's fixed eyes.

"Forget it, he's watching his girlfriend again," Gareth said between bites of his sandwich.

"Huh what?" Eddie jolted out of his trance and blinked at the Hellfire Club who were all staring at him.

"We were asking about the next campaign but you were too busy staring at Max's pretty friend," Mike explained in an annoyed tone.

You were sitting at a table across the cafeteria occupied by a motley mix of Robin, some of her band friends, a few chess club members and Max who was having her fire red hair tamed into a braid by your practised fingers.

"His girlfriend," Dustin repeated with a giggle.

"She's not my girlfriend," Eddie shot his young follower down, "I've never even spoken to her."

"You've been staring at her for weeks and you haven't talked once? Since when are you shy?" Dustin batted back and the whole table waited for an answer.

"It's not what you think," Eddie answered boredly.

"Sure dude."

"No really, she's up to something," the club leader came clean because there was no way Dustin would drop the subject otherwise. "People are always whispering to her and she hands out lunch bags randomly. It's weird."

"Maybe they're just hungry?"

"Think bigger Henderson. She's got a business going on."

"Why do you care?" Mike asked.

He didn't really care much for anyone's relationships since his own girlfriend had moved to California.

"Because Wheeler," Eddie answered impatiently. "I've spent six years building my cliental at this school and I'm not about to lose it to some new chick with a chess fetish."

"Dude," Jeff had just demolished his lunch and could finally talk. "Your balls are heavy and it's making you crazy. Just go ask her out before one of the basketball douchbags do."

The Hellfire Club's laughter was cut short when their leader's fist slammed the table.

"See! See!" Eddie half stood out of his seat and pointed across the cafeteria at you. "It's happening now."

A girl had approached you and said something that made you stop braiding and pull an item from your shoulder bag wrapped in brown paper.

Only because they were watching so intensely did the Hellfire Club see the crumpled note passed discretely between you two.

"That is it!" Eddie bellowed and shook the table so hard all the cafeteria plates jumped. "I'm putting an end to this now!"

The attention the Dungeon and Dragons players were giving you went totally unnoticed by yourself. Most of the time at school you dissociated mentally, preferring to solve puzzles in silence than listen to the state certified lessons.

But you enjoyed the company of your patchwork friends so you put up with the classes and cafeteria babble.

The first thing you'd done when you enrolled in Hawkins High was locate the chess club and challenge the reigning president for his position. He had demanded you win a simultaneous exhibit which you did by nailing all dozen club members in an hour.

Robin had been paired with you for chemistry and she'd won you over with her natural spunk and charm. Musical talent wasn't something you possessed but her band friends were nice and helped you navigate the school hierarchy.

You'd noticed Max pretty quickly as it was hard to miss that flaming hair. You sensed she was struggling with more than just the adjustment to freshman year and had taken her under your wing.

She'd pushed back at first, not wanting anyone to interfere with her problems but you persisted and she realised you wanted to support her, not fix her.

Max had booed braids as girly and dumb when you first offered to style her hair but after she read the books you loaned her on Viking women she'd relented.

You were so focused on keeping Max's hair threads even you didn't notice Eddie Munson sideling up to you holding his lunchbox.

"Have you got a moment?" he asked as everyone at the table stopped to stare at "The Freak" in his regular outfit of denim and leather.

"Sorry comrade," you said without looking up. "I am currently tackling a very complicated reverse braid and I have my friend Owen in check. So unless you can speed one of these along you'll have to come back later."

Eddie watched your fast hands weaving Max's hair for a few moments and decided to try the chess board instead. You had lost more pieces than Owen but your remaining ones were stronger. At the moment your queen and rook had Owen's king pinned and his other pieces were no support.

Eddie reached over and moved the trapped king in a direction Owen hadn't considered. You looked over for a second then knocked the king flat with a bishop you had been hiding in the back flank.

"Aww screw you man!" Owen whined and slumped back in his chair.

You and Max laughed and the final touches were added to Max's hairdo.

"There," you said handing her a mirror from your bag. "A true Valkyrie."

"So can we talk now?" Eddie asked naggingly.

"Alright," you said with a shrug and put the mirror back in your bag. "I'll see you in the carpark after school Max."

You gathered your things and followed Eddie out of the cafeteria and through the corridors to an out of order bathroom.

Without inhibitions you passed the door he held open for you and lent against a sink while Eddie made sure the cubicles were empty.

You only knew Eddie Munson by reputation and you were doubtful anything about that reputation was factual. Some had said he was into the occult and dangerous but you were yet to believe it.

So far he just seemed like a board game nerd who blew his eardrums out to metal music.

Satisfied you were alone Eddie kept a polite distance by a cubicle door and put on an professional expression.

"I'm all for empowering women in business but you need to stop," he began. "I've built a trusting relationship with the buyers here and I can't allow an interloper to come in and ruin it. So please, stay out of my territory."

For a moment you were both dead still and only a dripping tap could be heard.

"I think we have a misunderstanding," you said slowly breaking the silence and tried not to smile at his seriousness.

"I've seen your hustle lady," Eddie changed tactics and tried to sound suave. "Sneaking around handing out lunch bags like a suburban mummy. Only difference between us is I have more style."

You had a laugh a bit then. He was so serious it was adorable. The bell rang and you knew you had to resolve this misunderstanding quick.

"Come and see what I'm dealing and you'll understand I am no threat to your enterprise," you said with a smirk.

"Now?" Eddie asked uncertainly as a mass of students moved passed the door. "We'll be tardy."

"Come on, live dangerously," you teased with a wink.

You waited until the halls emptied and classroom doors closed then motioned for Eddie to follow. Both of you kept your footsteps light and peeked around each corner before scurrying towards the janitor's closet.

Eddie kept an eye out as you unfolded two hairpins from your pocket and worked the lock. After a bit of delicate maneuvering the lock popped and you both slipped inside, hitting the light switch as you went.

Eddie stood back as you dropped your bag and went over to a heating vent in the floor. The cover came loose with little effort and you pulled out a cardboard box.

Intrigued, Eddie stepped closer to take a cautious look at the contents.

"I deal in the most dangerous of contraband," you whispered seductively then theatrically opened the box.

"Books?"

"Brilliant books," you corrected and handed him a stack.

Eddie fumbled with the load then flipped through the pile reading each title aloud.

"Catcher in the Rye, The Colour Purple, The Bluest Eye, hang on why do I know these?" Eddie rarely read anything outside of fantasy but these were familiar to him.

He spied a bright red book in the box and the penny dropped.

"Holy shit!" he jumped on the spot and snatched the novel up. "This is the one they were picketing on the news!"

"The Handmaid's Tale," you said with a sagacious nod. "A frighteningly believable premonition of women's future. I've got a waiting list as long as my arm for that one."

"These are all banned aren't they? Is that what you've been dealing in? Illegal literature?"

"Ten dollars to loan, twenty to buy," you said and took the novels back to carefully replaced them in their box.

"I guess I owe you an apology," Eddie confessed and started smiling.

He was embarrassed to admit his spying and conspiracy theories had been paranoia but he could see the funny side to it. Eddie was man enough to admit when he'd made a fool of himself.

It was a nice smile you thought. Eddie's brown eyes warmed and you could feel your defensive shield melting a little. His leather jacket and demonic jewellery was just a facade too fool simple minds. Which accounted for most of the student body.

'Stop that,' you warned yourself when you started looking at his soft lips. 'It's a trap.'

"I thought you were dealing drugs but this is way more dangerous. Like state crime dangerous."

"Don't get turned on," you warned and tried to stop thinking of that smile. "In a small town there is no greater crime than new ideas."

"Baby you're speaking my language."

You were about to cuss him out for that moniker when there was a pounding on the door.

"Mr Munson!" came a shout. "I know you're in there! Unlock this door immediately!"

"What the fuck?" you gasped and quickly returned the contraband to its hiding place.

"Principal Higgins," Eddie blanched and his eyes rounded like a frightened deer. "He's been watching me all week. I think someone snitched on me."

Another bang rattled the door frame and you both backed into the tool shelf.

"Mr Munson! Open this door!"

Eddie looked down anxiously at his lunchbox with its hidden compartment full of weed. Higgins had searched his bag and locker heaps of times but he'd never suspected the unstylish lunch pail. If Higgins was to catch him holding it now...

He could see his underwhelming future flashing before his eyes. Expulsion, community service sentence, Wayne shaking his head in disappointment, a job cleaning septic tanks, alone on the couch every Friday feeding his beer gut, a funeral with three mourners.

"Final warning!" Higgins yelled then speaking to someone outside said in a quieter voice, "Unlock it."

"Drop your pants," you ordered as you snatched the lunch pail from Eddie's hand and dropped it on the tool shelf behind you.

"What?" Eddie asked frantically.

"Just do it!" you barked and grabbed his denim vest with both hands.

A second later maintenance man Sergio and Principal Higgins opened the door to see you kissing Eddie Munson madly. Your legs were wrapped tight around his waist as his hands gripped your arse tight under your skirt.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair which smelt fresh and clean to your surprise. You had expected the brown triffid to be knotty and full of crumbs but it was fabulous like a lion's mane.

Eddie's breathing was laboured as he strained holding you and tried not to trip on the jeans around his ankles. Your intimate proximity was overwhelming him and he was struggling to balance the conflicting feelings of fear and arousal.

The skin around your underwear was cool and firm in his hands but your lips were warm and soft. Only millimeters of fabric separated your privates and he could feel your heat warming his sensitive area.

"My office now!" Principal Higgins yelled and Sergio made his escape muttering about needing to be somewhere else.

With the mood instantly killed you dropped out of Eddie's hold and he rushed to pull his pants up. He had the decency to look embarrassed by the compromising situation but you were struggling not to smile at the principal's disapproving glare.

You enjoyed the childish thrill of upsetting authority figures, a fault you should grow out of but probably wouldn't.

You and Eddie were marched into the principal's office where you were subjected to a scolding about playing hooky, inappropriate behaviour and worst of all, not showing the proper school spirit.

Eddie took your hand as you sat side by side opposite Principal Higgins. You went to pull away but he winked and you realised he was trying to maintain the lovers charade.

The heat of your palm warmed the metal rings and his long fingers nearly enclosed your whole hand they were so long.

You zoned out for most of what Principal Higgins said, these speeches were liked cracked records to you now. Not that you incited trouble, it's just that you stood up for yourself - something an institution that demands blind obedience disliked.

"-don't let him influence you with his underachieving behaviour."

"Hang on what?" you were suddenly reengaged in the conversation. "Did you just take a swipe at Eddie?"

"Leave it darlin'," you hear Eddie mumble behind a pensive hand gesture.

"No, no," your irritation was up. "What do you mean underachieving? Eddie is in three of my classes and he shows up to every one on time. He shuts up, does his work and answers questions. Underachieving is how I'd describe those basketball Neanderthals who stumble in late and butcher Shakespeare."

Last week you had to sit through a double period of English where the basketball goons has sniggered as every mention of "ass" in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"You're still new to this school," Higgins had changed his tone to one for a simpleton. "You may not know this is Mr Munson's third attempt at graduation."

"Which is brilliant," you said imitating his tone. "Most people would just give up."

Eddie squeezed your hand warningly but you were on a roll. Everything the principal said now was lubricant for your bulldozer.

Principal Higgins pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He had heard about this in the staff room. How you took to an argument with the ferocity of a bulldog and pulled a verbal knife on any bully who crossed your path.

"You are one of our best students," he began.

"Oh piss off," you shot him down before he could continue. "I get the best grades but I'm an awful student. Which is why I never get approached for extra advancement or early college admission. You give all that to the 'best' students who are spoon fed conformists while the students who put in twice the work just to keep up get ignored."

"We accommodate every student," Higgins puffed his chest up defensively.

"No you don't!" you said louder and now you were the one squeezing Eddie's hand.

"The only college scouts who come here are after athletes. Art subjects are undersupplied, the library hasn't a single book published this decade and our history textbooks are written from a very biased, white, male view. Less than half of graduates go to college, most stay in Hawkins and find blue collar work. These kids are falling into apathy because you're putting all your attention on the golden children."

"You're suspended for the rest of the week," Higgins couldn't argue with you so he resorted to punishment. "I'll be calling your father."

"You'll wish you hadn't," you chuckled and grabbed your bag.

"You need to wait while I do the paperwork!" Higgins called as you walked to the door.

"Send me a fax," you replied nonchalantly and after a second remembered you were supposed to be madly in love with Eddie Munson.

"Farewell my darling," you said with longing and blew him a kiss.

Eddie caught it and held it over heart. He smiled again triggering a tingling sensation on your skin and you had a flashback to your tongue tickling his.

'Don't,' you warned yourself. 'You don't need the trouble.'

But you were going to get into a lot of trouble.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson au #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie x you #stranger things #eddie munson x afab!reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month ago

Text

you and all of your new perspective

for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan

also on ao3

rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.

In Hawkins.

Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.

“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”

“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”

Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.

“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”

“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”

Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.

“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”

Steve lifts his head. “They what?”

“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”

“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”

“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”

“Who said anything about suffering?”

“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”

“How’s that?”

“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”

Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.

“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”

“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”

Steve groans.

He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.

That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.

“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.

“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”

Steve breathes in. He breathes out.

“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”

“That’s my boy!”

++++

The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.

He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.

He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.

Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.

He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.

“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.

“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.

He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.

“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”

Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” He asks.

“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”

Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.

“Enjoy the visit!”

Steve doesn’t respond.

He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.

He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.

Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.

****

Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.

He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.

“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.

Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.

Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.

Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?

Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.

“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”

Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.

“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”

He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”

“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”

“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”

Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”

Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.

“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”

It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.

“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.

“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”

This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.

“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”

“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.

“Then…why were you scared?”

“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.

So is Eddie.

Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.

Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.

“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”

“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.

Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.

“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”

“What does that mean? Read what?”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.

“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.

“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”

“You made apple pie for me?”

Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.

He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.

“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.

He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.

Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.

His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.

It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.

“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.

“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”

“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.

“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”

“Who said you forced anything on me?”

“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”

Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.

“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”

Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”

It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.

The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.

He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.

Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.

The same one Eddie’s giving him now.

Steve can’t help it; He laughs.

“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”

“Steve-”

“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”

“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.

“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.

“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”

“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”

“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.

“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”

“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”

Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”

“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”

“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.

“So I can take your clothes off?”

“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”

“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”

“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.

“Four days.”

Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.

In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.

But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.

He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.

Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie events #steddie song fics #steve harrington x eddie munson #wayne munson #rock star eddie munson #getting together #pining #idiots in love

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hcneymooners · 2 months ago

Text

⋆ heart on a sleeve.

(lowkey toxic!)bsf!vi x bsf!reader. men & minors dni.

pt. i ( you are here. ) / pt. ii.

synopsis: vi is handling her breakup badly, but you refuse to give up on her. it's part of the deal when you're irrevocably in love with your best friend.

cw: vi exhibits toxic behavior but is more complex than toxic, this part is sfw but part ii is going to be explicit, pit fighter!vi, implied alcoholism, emotional hurt/comfort, second chances, implied friend breakups, not actually unrequited love, vi is trying her best and so are you, blk-coded reader but all are welcome to read.

notes: inspired by the beautiful @avonnimimi. adore her. also the raccoon thing actually happened to me, lol. love you.

you've always loved winter in the city. winter is your season. the world grows unnaturally quiet underneath the suffocation of snowfall; you can finally hear yourself think. the heat is cranked up as high as it can go without bothering you and you sit on the floor, hips groaning as you stretch them out.

tonight, the snow falls soft and quiet, less fervent than the day before, catching in the glow of streetlights. you’re in a navy blue sleep set, your silk shorts clinging to your cocoa-buttered thighs. the fabric is covered with detailed illustrations of eopards, their mouths open and demanding. despite it not being your preference, you have your best friend on the phone as you contort yourself into different shapes. she keeps shooting you looks as your joints pop, your bones waking up from their slumber.

“baby, i don’t think you’re supposed to be sounding like this at twenty-one.”

“don’t worry about it, lia. that’s why we stretch.”

dalia rolls her eyes from where she looms across the screen, her skin dark and gleaming post-shower.

eventually, you settle, loose and limber, and begin scrolling through old photos on your phone. your gold rings catch the light as you swipe past memories – vi teaching you to throw a proper punch, both of you sprawled on the quad during finals week, the night she got that bartending job. you’d celebrated with cheap champagne and a close call (read: climbed right into her lap and almost kissed her.)

your shared apartment feels hollow tonight. vi's combat boots aren’t kicked off by the door, her jacket isn’t thrown over the kitchen chair. her location is turned off and it eats at your stomach, but you try to self-soothe.

traces of her are everywhere – the worn boxing gloves hanging by the entry, the pile of mechanics textbooks on the coffee table, the polaroids magnetted to the fridge. your favorite was from last summer: vi half-asleep on the couch, head in your lap, while you read your sociology textbook.

dalia took that one, said something about capturing moments that matter.

you remember the night vi moved in, both of you drunk on cheap wine and possibility, sprawled on the empty living room floor.

"mama," she'd said, grinning up at the ceiling, "we're gonna make this place ours." and you did – vi's fight posters next to your framed family photos, her protein shakes beside your san pellegrino, your shared vinyl collection taking over the windowsill.

it was your most desired dream: to have a beautiful life. with her, if you could have everything you truly wanted.

your mom's daily check-in text slides gently over your screen: how's my baby doing? vi still being stubborn?

before you can reply, your phone buzzes with another call.

( three months ago )

vi's sitting on your bathroom floor, knuckles bloody from another underground fight. she's been taking more of those since caitlyn left, each one more reckless than the last. you don't say anything, just kneel beside her with the first aid kit you've kept stocked since freshman year.

"you don't have to keep doing this," she mumbles as you clean her wounds.

"i know." you focus on wrapping her hand, trying not to let your fingers shake. "i want to."

she watches you work, something unreadable on her face. "why?"

you don't answer at first. just keep wrapping, gentle as you can. some questions are too dangerous to answer honestly. still, you try.

“you’re never going to stop doing this to yourself,” you say finally. “this ache, this punishment—it’s going to live inside you for a while.”

you can feel her looking at you, blue eyes following the bend of your neck as you slick the splits of her skin with paste. her gaze is heavy. you refuse to look up.

“when i was younger, i found a racoon in my backyard. it was so sick, but i was so little and tried to save it. i called animal control, because i didn’t understand how they “handled” situations.” you flip her hand over, thumb grazing her palm. “i asked them to come pick it up, to rehabilitate it. he told me to look away, but i still held out hope. he shot it right in front of me. i cried, i think. still think about it.”

you’re still holding her hand, and she takes over the grip. she exerts pressure and tilts your chin up, bringing you back to her. your eyes are wide and luminous, two planets.

“when i see you, it’s like that,” you tell her. “except i know better now. i take care of it, of you, myself. it makes me feel like there’s a better chance at survival.”

you shuffle onto your knees, body tensing as you push yourself up. vi catches you by the ankle, tugs until you stumble against her bandaged chest. she presses a weak kiss to your calf.

“thank you.”

“mmhmm,” is all you answer, thumbing at her brow before leaving.

(one month ago)

the party's too loud, too crowded. bass thrums through the floor like a second heartbeat. you're watching vi across the room, watching her drink too much, watching her laugh too sharp when someone mentions caitlyn's name.

when she starts another fight – with who? does it even matter anymore? – and ends it with kissing someone else, something in you breaks. you slip away to the bathroom, sink to the floor in your party dress, press your hands against cool tile. you hate crying. hates how it makes you feel exposed, vulnerable. but the tears come anyway.

the door opens. dalia's there, sinking down beside you. she doesn't say anything, just pulls you close, lets you hide your face in her shoulder.

"baby girl," she whispers, but you cut her off.

“lia, later. please,” you rasp.

the bass keeps thumping outside. you can’t hear your heart, but you can feel it. you’re always fucking feeling it. you keep crying.

( now )

for years to come, you will always remember this moment. how you paused before hanging up on dalia and picking up for vi.

“violet?” your voice is low, tired.

across the line, somewhere cold and devoid of you, vi shivers. she loves when you say her full name, wants to eat you whole when you let it rasp across your tongue and teeth until it falls free.

“hey, angel. look, i swear m'fine to drive," she slurs before you can continue asking after her. your heart drops. “i just wanted to tell you ‘m on my way home.”

"violet, where are you?" you're already grabbing your keys, oversized park half-falling off of you.

"just... just leaving jinx's. cait was there with her new fucking—“ her voice cracks. "doesn't matter. i got this."

"stay put. i'm coming to get you."

“what? no—“ there’s a sound suspiciously like her dropping her keys. “fuck, ‘m dizzy.”

“violet,” you’re beginning to panic, your voice rising. “vi, listen to me. are you in the car?”

the door slams across the line. you have your answer.

“vi, please listen to me. i’m coming, okay? i’ll be right there. please don’t start the fucking car.” nothing. “violet! i know you can fucking hear me.”

it’s about five minutes of silence, before she speaks again. you’re borderline hyperventilating, hands shaking as you try to locate jinx’s number to get her to go outside and stop her sister.

"nah, you don't gotta—"

the sound of screeching metal cuts her off. then it’s dead air. you're running to your car before the call ends.

ᥫ᭡.

the accident scene is a nightmare made real. you find her car wrapped around a lamppost, driver's side crumpled like paper. your heart nearly stops until you see her stumbling away from the wreck, that familiar shock of pink hair catching the streetlight. she's swaying dangerously on the icy sidewalk. your hands shake as you guide her into your passenger seat, trying not to think about how close—

she reeks of whiskey and wears that same leather jacket she's had since her fighting days. The one with the worn elbows and faded patches. the one you helped pick out years ago, before university, before caitlyn, before everything got so complicated.

"you should've minded your own business," vi mutters, breaking the tense silence. her words have edges, sharp ones meant to cut.

you grip the wheel tighter. "you could have died tonight."

"yeah? maybe that would've been better than—" she cuts herself off, but you both know what she means. better than feeling like this. better than watching caitlyn walk away.

"don't." your voice cracks. "don't you dare. what the actual fuck is wrong with you, violet? why do you say shit like that? you have to stop.”

vi turns to you, eyes blazing with that familiar fight-night fury. "or what? you'll lecture me again? tell me how i'm throwing my life away? save it. i don't need another person telling me how to live my life."

the car comes to a stop at a red light. your layered necklaces catch the glow, throwing golden shadows across the dashboard.

"you think this is about lectures?" the words come out quieter than you meant them to. "vi, i found you in a crashed car. do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"oh, here we go. make it all about you, why don't—"

"yes! for once, let me make it about how i feel!" your voice rises, surprising both of you. you never yell. never let the mask slip. but tonight is different. tonight you almost lost her. "because i love you too much to watch you destroy yourself!"

“you don’t even fucking know me, [name].”

you can feel the heat rising. your throat is growing tight, and you know how this will end.

“we’re best friends, vi.”

her eyes flicker over the side of your face, and you’re just such an easy target and her mouth is opening and—

“i’m only yours.”

the light turns green. neither of you moves. no one’s behind you, both on the road and in real life.

“you,” you whisper, “are so fucking mean to me sometimes.”

embarrassment rushes through you. your face feels hot, and the ball in your throat is so large you’re struggling to breathe. you’re going to cry. maybe she can tell, because she lurches upward and jerks toward you. you jerk back, staring a hole through your windshield.

“[name]—“

you run the red light.

ᥫ᭡.

a week later, dalia corners vi outside the campus coffee shop. you're not there to see it, but the story spreads fast. the city feeds on scandal and t thrives on the misguided.

"you know what?" dalia gets right in vi's face, fury radiating off her small frame. she looks like a wind-up doll, braids freshly done and her hands balled into fists. “i’m sick of watching you treat her like this. she's been there for every fight, every breakdown, every time you needed someone. and what does she get? you taking her for granted, acting like she's disposable."

vi's jaw tightens. "you don't know what you're talking about."

dalia is yelling now, drawing attention. vi’s pretty sure jinx is observing, bright blue teetering in her peripheral vision. her sister had ripped her a new one after receiving your belated messages.

"don't i? because while you're out here playing self-destruct, she's at home crying over you. she'll never say anything because that's just who she is – she loves too damn much and asks for too damn little. she ain’t one of those weak-ass little bitches you keep messing with, but she was never good at establishing boundaries with you. i don’t know what the fuck she's on, but i'm off it. i'll say it."

something in vi's expression shifts, breaks open.

"she... she cries over me?"

"god, you're dense," dalia spits. "she's been in love with you since sophomore year."

vi stumbles into your empty apartment at 1 am—early for her—, still reeling from dalia's words.

“hey, angel?” she calls out, more habit than hope. only ghosts answer.

she finds your room too neat, closet half-empty. your parka's gone. your heavy jewelry box has left a perfect dust-free silhouette on the top of your vanity. she rummages through your desk and finds your monogrammed passport holder gone. she sinks onto your bed, head in her hands.

her phone's in her hand before she realizes, your number dialing. voicemail. again.

“[name], i... i fucked up. i know i fucked up. i’m sorry. please... please pick up. please." her voice breaks. “please, mama.”

seventeen calls. seventeen voicemails. silence.

finally, desperate, she calls dalia.

“look,” she begs, voice raw. "i need to fix this."

dalia's quiet for a long moment. "you're lucky i love that girl so much," she says finally. “she’s going to see her parents. her flight leaves at 4. terminal c. don't fuck this up again."

ᥫ᭡.

vi misses the flight.

ᥫ᭡.

your parents' house hasn't changed. same bright warm kitchen, same family photos lining the walls, same smell of your mom's cooking. it’s been two weeks post-fight. you’re recentering, need space to breathe, to remember who you are without vi's gravity pulling at you.

your dad keeps giving you those knowing looks over breakfast. you’re his daughter emotionally, your mom’s physically. they always joke that your mama said copy-paste, that you stole her entire face.

"sometimes," your dad says one night, his voice carefully light, "loving someone means letting them figure things out on their own."

you re-adjust one of your rings, a nervous habit. it was a gift from vi—two angel wings set on a thin diamond-speckled bar spread across two of your fingers. she’d fought for it. you were pissed. you never took it off, even though you rarely mixed metals.

“mmm. yeah, i know, daddy."

your dad finds you again in the kitchen at midnight, making tea you won't drink. you look so small in your grief, eyes blinking owlishly at the draft of your introduction to ethics paper. you’re wearing your glasses, the frames thick, and he smiles at the sight. you only used them when your eyes became too dry for contacts.

"you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head, then nod, then laugh wetly. your screen blurs into a smear of white and blue.

“i don't know how to stop loving her, daddy." your head drops. “why is this shit always happening to me?”

he pulls you close, kisses your forehead like when you were small. he chooses to let the language slide this one time.

"maybe you're not supposed to, baby. maybe it's not about stopping."

“i know,” you sniff, wiping your face. “i just wish i could pause it when things get bad, take a minute.”

“and that’s fair, baby. nothing wrong with that.”

“love is hard, baby girl.” your head whips up, finds your mother sitting in front of your computer. “you don’t have to pretend otherwise. no one here is going to shame you.”

your heart quakes with so much love that you start blubbering again. your parents only smile, pressing twin kisses to your oil-wet scalp.

“i’ll finish the draft for you, honey. get some sleep,” your mom says and you try to protest, only to get served with her “keep talking” look.

“‘kay,” you tell her. “thank you.”“mmhmm,” she tugs you into another hug. “finish your tea, baby.”

ᥫ᭡.

at the airport, you're going through security when your phone buzzes again. this time it's dalia.

d. <3: girl, you're not gonna believe this.

you hear her before you see her. vi's voice cuts through the airport chaos: "[name!] wait!"

you turn, lower the volume on your playlist. she's there, pink hair wild, still wearing her leather jacket despite the cold. she's holding a ticket.

“i missed the first flight, so i was gonna go to your parents. i couldn’t get a plane out ’til yesterday but then,” she says, breathless. "dalia told me when you were leaving. i... i couldn't let you go without—" she runs a hand through her hair, frustrated.

"i'm shit at this. but mama, please listen to me. i need you to know i'm sorry. not just for that night. for everything. for not seeing what was right in front of me."

you hold yourself very still, careful. hope is a dangerous thing, and she’s starting to rumble within you.

"violet…”

her eyes light up at the sound of her full name, and she rocks onto the balls of her feet.

"i miss you," she says simply. "and not just as my best friend.”

your eyes widen, and vi steps closer. her face is soft and open. somehow, you know she’s aware of your biggest secret. you’re gonna whip dalia’s ass.

“ i think... i think maybe i've been missing you for a long time without knowing it."

the airport bustles around you, but all you can hear is your heart beating too fast. vi takes another step, careful, like you might spook.

you look so beautiful to her, face bare and glazed with what she knows is a mixture of skincare and vaseline to combat the dry air of the plane. you’re being swallowed by your oversized sweatsuit, the hoodie absolutely massive and bubblegum pink. she focuses on your hands, finds the ring she gifted you. you flex your fingers, and her eyes fall on the small “vi” inked between your thumb and pointer. it’s stylized to look like roman numerals but it’s her name.

yours is tatted on her too, just behind her ear.

“look, vi. i—“ your top teeth worry at your bottom lip, plush and pink like a tulip.

"i know i don't deserve another chance," she says softly. "but if you're willing to give me one i swear to god, i’ll take what i can fucking get.”

you look at her – really look at her. she's a mess, clearly hasn't slept, probably bought the first ticket she could find which meant the airlines had robbed her blind. but her eyes are clear. present. seeing you maybe for the first time.

“i think you still have some things to deal with. like cait.”

“who?” she says, and you know she’s posturing, but it makes you laugh. vi grins, pleased with herself.

“don’t piss me off, violet,” you tell her and she closes the distance, threads her hands along your hips.

your body conforms to the comfort, to the familiarity. you close your eyes, lean your forehead against her chest. she’s so thick, so broad, that she shelters you. the world is so quiet here.

"slow," you say finally. "we’re taking this slow."

her smile breaks like sunrise. "slow," she agrees. "i can do slow."

above, your gate is called over the speaker. vi adjusts your necklace, takes your suitcase and bag. her fingers linger as you transfer them to her hands, sending a pulse down to your stomach. it’ll be hard to be careful. gentle. new.

“c’mon, mama,” she murmurs.

her hand is held out. you take a minute, maybe two, but you still hold it.

bonus:

d <3: so y’all kiss yet, or what?

you: you got one more time.

#vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi fluff #vi arcane #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #female!reader #fem!reader #black!reader #blktumblr #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #vi x fem reader #vi league of legends #mine ; 🐎.

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sweetbans29 · 8 months ago

Text

Varsity Jacket - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin keep it light and playful at a game (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Is this not everyones dream?

It's the first time in the state's history of WBB that they decided to play basketball in a football stadium. A piece of history that has been led by one girl allowing thousands to benefit.

The game was chosen to be an exhibition game, a kick-off to the season, naming it the Crossover at Kinnick. They laid the Iowa WBB court within the confines of the outdoor football stadium, drawing a near 55,000 fans to be a part of the first game in Caitlin Clark's senior year. A NCAA record-breaking 55,000 fans. The first of many records Clark would break this upcoming season.

The game followed a lot of football Saturday traditions. The way the team was called out, a stadium flyover, and your favorite part - the Hawkeye Wave over to the kids in the UI Stead Family Children’s Hospital. You had done it before when your team had danced at football games and were excited to be a part of it today.

You are proud to be part of the Iowa Hawkeye dance team - have been for the past three years now. It is what brought you to IU in the first place.

Growing up dance had always been something you enjoyed. Unlike most of the other girls on the dance team, you didn't start taking dance classes until halfway through middle school. When you learned you had a natural talent for it, you started taking it more seriously. You joined your high school's dance team and decided it was something you wanted to try your hand at in college. When you auditioned going into your freshman year, you were one of two freshmen to make the team.

Since then you have captained the team for two football seasons, going into your third. Yet here you are, freezing your azz off because you forgot your damn coat.

Upon arriving at the stadium, you should have been prepared. You should have thought through how it is November in Iowa and how it is about to be winter but that doesn't cross your mind until you are shaking courtside.

"Didn't you bring a coat?" One of your teammates asks. She is currently bundled up in two jackets, ear muffs, and hand warmers.

"If I did, don't you think I would be wearing it?" You snap and immediately realize. "I'm sorry babe, I am just freezing."

You are trying to hide your shaking body and keep moving around to generate any sort of heat that you can.

A part of being on the dance team was being visible during the whole game. You weren't the cheer squad but your team had to be posted up next to them every game. It wasn't bad, it was just cold.

As halftime approached you directed your team to stretch out again, not wanting them to pull anything while dancing. You did the same, as you watched your basketball continue to do what they do best.

Once everyone was stretched, you all bunched together ready to take the court.

"I am still freezing my ass off," you say rubbing your hands together and huddle close to your friend. "I can't believe I didn't bring my freaking overcoat."

The team was coming off when someone bumped your shoulder causing you to take a few steps back.

"Hey! Watch it," you tell the 6-foot frame.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," the girl says. You pull down your skirt and smooth it over. Once you are satisfied with your outfit adjustment you look up.

'Of-freaking-course', you think to yourself as you make eye contact with none other than Caitlin Clark.

"I didn't see you there," she says, the slightest smirk peaking out.

"Very funny Clark," you say trying to hide your own smile and keep it serious.

"Oh, keeping it professional now are we?" She says. "It's cute, but you can call me Caitlin."

"That is so kind of you," you say, kind of surprised she is still there talking to you. You finish your sentence with, "Clark."

She just smiles and shakes her head. You hear the music come on and you know it's your cue. Caitlin doesn't follow the rest of the team back through the tunnel, rather stands to the side and watches you and your team take the court.

Caitlin knows she should be back with her team. More so to warm up but she couldn't nor wanted to take her eyes off you. She stood there watching you and your team keep everyone entertained during halftime. A smile resting on her lips the entire time.

She has seen you around before. How could she not, you were at practically every sports game. Caitlin would frequent the Hawkeye's football games but never really got close enough to see you perform (something she will probably never admit to you). If it wasn't seeing you in passing there, she noticed you would go and watch other sports just for fun. She has to think about it but if she remembers correctly she has seen you at both the men's and women's volleyball matches, women's soccer, and even some track and even the women's swim and dive meets.

Caitlin cheers on your team as you finish your routine and runoff, making way for the cheer squad to perform their routine next. As you make your way back you see Cait standing in the same spot she bumped you in. She is smiling at you and clapping as you make your way over. You walk up to her despite the murmurs you hear from your team, only making out your name and Caitlin's in their muffled conversations.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere, Clark?" You ask as you cross your arms over your chest. You may have just performed a 6-minute dance routine but the chilled air was unforgiving.

"Wanted to stay out here and watch - making sure your little frozen ass doesn't fall off," she says, her eyes never leaving yours.

"The team is great," you say with a smile choosing to ignore the second part of her statement and refusing to be the first one to break eye contact.

"I wasn't watching the team," she says, that stupid smirk playing on her lips again. You could feel yourself losing this battle.

"That's a shame, they are great," you say trying to regain any part of this conversation.

"Maybe, but not as great as who I had my eyes on," she says. You blush and look away. You felt like you were being interrogated by the freaking CIA not flirting with your school's superstar.

"Okay, Clark, you win," you say as you crumble under her gaze.

She rubs the back of your arm, letting her hand linger on you. You look back up at her.

"I should get back," she says not wanting to leave you but knowing her job isn't done.

"You should," you say, agreeing for her - the first time since this conversation has started.

"Thanks for umm, thanks for watching," you say, your nerves peaking out. She nods and heads in the direction of her team.

What the hell was that? You make your way over to your team and they are all chattering about the interaction. You take your seat next to your co-captain who is just looking at you.

You keep your head forward still processing it all. Caitlin Clark was just talking to you. Not only that, but she waited and watched you perform then proceeded to flirt with you about it. Her hand was on your arm. You were thankful it wasn't skin-to-skin contact because you probably would have never let her walk away. She was teasing you.

You are too caught up in your own thoughts to see when someone had walked up to you. Your co-cap tapping your leg and nodding at the woman who was standing in front of you.

"Oh hi," you say and stand.

"I was told to bring this over to you," she says holding something, you look down and it's a jacket.

"Oh thank you," you say grabbing it.

"She wanted me to say it is from Caitlin," she says, emphasizing the name. "Told me I had to emphasize the name."

The woman walks away and you unfold the jacket to see 'CLARK' on the back right above the number 22. This girl is not serious right now. If you were under any other circumstance, you would not be putting it on but since the only time you have stopped shaking was while you were performing you decide to put the jacket on.

If your team was whispering about your interaction with Caitlin before, they are shouting from the rooftops now.

The basketball team comes back out and you find yourself looking for a particular someone. To your delight, she is making her way over to you.

"You got it, good," she says, wrapped in an Iowa jacket of her own.

"You didn't need to do this," you say but make no move to try and hand it back to her. It has been the warmest you have been the whole game. She lets out a little laugh.

"Sure, says the one who was shaking like a chihuahua," she says taking in the sight of you in her clothing. She could get used to this.

"I appreciate it, Clark," you say and she groans.

"Caitlin," she says.

"Clark," you retort.

"Cait," she responds.

"Clark," you are not giving in.

"CC, Caity, C - anything but Clark," she says frustrated.

"Why does it bother you so much that I call you by your last name?" You ask now the one who has the slight edge in the conversation.

"Clark, get your butt over here," one of her coaches yells at her.

"That's why," she mumbles and gives you one last look before running back over to the team.

"Get it Clark!" You yell after her, earning some whistles and shouts from your team.

You're thankful it is still cold out because the redness on your cheeks can easily be taken as cold, hiding your blush.

Your team doesn't shut up about the fact that you had talked to Caitlin but she gave her varsity jacket to you to wear. All the girls were staring at you and taking in the sight of the player's jacket.

A ball gets swatted out of bounds and you catch it before it can hit anyone on your team. Caitlin sees where it goes and books it to grab it from you.

Here is the thing about Caitlin, she is the last person to go and catch a ball that has been hit out of bounds. Her whole team was aware of this. So it is to everyone's surprise when she is the first one to hustle after the ball when the whistle is blown.

You hold up the ball for her.

"Careful there Clark, could have hurt someone," you say.

She laughs, "Ya right."

"Since when are you the first one to run after a loose ball," you say exposing that you may have watched her more than a few times. Could anyone blame you? Caitlin has been drawing the attention of the whole nation.

"Didn't want to miss the opportunity to come talk to the pretty girl," she says with that damn smirk.

"You are too kind Clark," you say faking flattery.

"Oh, I was talking about the girl next to you," she says teasing you.

You sit there speechless as Caitlin finally takes the ball.

"I'm kidding, but you should see the look on your face. It's priceless," she says winking at you before heading back over to inbound the ball.

'Oh it is on Clark' you think as you watch them finish up the last quarter.

Caitlin, of course, plays amazing. She finishes the game off with her first triple-double of the season. You watch as she celebrates with her team - all of who were excited to start the season on a high note. You are celebrating with your team when they all go quite in front of you and stare at something behind you. You turn around before Caitlin can tap your shoulder.

"Ahh, so we meet again," you say with a smile. "Well done Clark."

"Okay, enough with the Clark. You are wearing my jacket for goodness sake," she says and shakes her head.

"Oh, ya, thank you for this," you say and begin to take it off. She stops you by putting her hand on your arm - the second time today you note.

"Hold on to it, if you take it off now you will start shaking again and I don't really care to see you looking like a little chihuahua," she says and scratches the back of her neck. You raise your eyebrow at her. If you don't give her the jacket back now, that means you will need to see her again to return it.

"And who exactly am I supposed to get this back to you?" You ask.

"Well that is actually why I came over here," she says and you can tell she is a little more nervous than she had been before. You don't notice but both of your teams are watching the interaction between you.

"Okay," you say encouraging her to continue.

"How would you feel about going out with me this weekend?" Caitlin says as she has to mentally remind herself to keep her breathing steady and to not rush her words.

"I don't know..." you start. "I was thinking I could just have someone swing the jacket by one of your practices."

Caitlin's face looks mortified and you immediately bring your hand up to hers to ease her, your joke being taken a little too serious.

"I'm kidding Clark," you say and give her hand a squeeze. "I would love to go out with you this weekend."

She smiles widely.

"Great," she says. "I'll text you details," she begins walking backward.

"And how are you going to do that without my number?" You say as she is now just out of reach.

"You're cute," she says, now back in control of the conversation. "I've had your number for a while, now I just get to use it."

You stare at her, mouth agape. You don't know how to get the last word in so she does.

"Talk to you soon babe!" Caitlin says and runs back towards her team.

AN: This was a cutie. Hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark masterlist #caitlin clark x reader #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb

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alyssawritcs · 1 month ago

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JUST LUNCH ( a kelvin harrison jr. fanfic ) one - shot .

love interest : kelvin harrison jr. rating : m as shit . ( smut , unprotected sex ( wrap it up ) , plain ol' p in v sex ) wc : 4.3k author's note : i have no idea where this came from y'all, just wanted to show love to my little leo short king 🤷🏽‍♀️

As much as Nevaeh sometimes missed her hometown, the beautiful and incomparable New Orleans, she had long since felt right at home in New York City. The move there had been almost on a whim, a decision made after her LSU graduation once the “far fetched” application she’d sent in to her dream gallery in Brooklyn was returned to her inbox with a link for a Zoom interview. Six weeks later, she was settled into a teeny tiny apartment in Bedstuy and working long hours at the gallery she’d grown to call her second home. However, it was while she was out with her newfound friends that she had spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Kelvin and her had been good friends in high school, nerdy kids and often the only black ones in the room. They had a love for the arts, though, and often paired off to work on projects. But the shy girl that he’d met in freshman year biology was not the one he’d run into that night at the bar. Now, little Nana had been ... blessed in high school and of course he’d noticed back then, he wasn’t blind but she was always hiding whatever she had going on under uniform, with big ol’ crewnecks or just the polos when the sweltering heat didn’t make sense for the former.

As he’d seen her there that day, head thrown back in laughter, that same pretty smile she’d always had, sitting on that - yeah, he’d have been a fool to not have approached her then and there.

The little reunion had gone better than even he had expected, with the two of them separating from their respective groups to catch up in some corner booth, where they had talked for hours. He told her about the roles he’d gotten and she talked about the exhibits she was helping to curate. Before they had known it, it was closing time and Kelvin, ever the southern gentleman, had offered to walk her home. She had thanked him on her doorstep with a soft kiss to his cheek.

That had been 2017 and they went to date just until January of 2022. In that time, he’d gotten the roles of his lifetime. She’d been promoted to full time co-head curator at the gallery. Their schedules, which used to align perfectly, weren’t even in the same timezone most days. He needed to move to LA for his career’s sake and she surely wasn’t leaving New York because of hers. Though they had started the process of separating at each other’s throats, knowing exactly what buttons to push that only came with being together for half a decade, they’d both seemed to realize that it couldn’t end like that. So he got a little place in Venice Beach, she took over the lease on their shared loft in Brooklyn, and they amicably went their separate ways.

Well, after one more incredible night that plagued Nevaeh’s every thought at that moment while she walked to Bredren, their old favorite Jamaican and soul food fusion spot not that far from the gallery. She tried to focus on the cute memories of them there, having little dates after he picked her up from work and he’d trek from his set in Harlem. That was cute, that was fun, that was appropriate. Thinking of the last time they’d slept together, when he’d made her cum four times in a row and then twice more the next morning before he left ... yeah, that was not very “let’s stay friends” of her, now was it?

Honestly, it had taken her months before she could even look at another picture of Kel, let alone even entertain the thought of being any type of friend to him. But of course, Chevalier had released in 2023 and she figured she needed to face the music, no pun intended. It was when she got through the whole film that she thought, ‘let me text this boy and tell him that shit was phenomenal’.

That had started a chain of sweet, light, and cutesy little exchanges between the both of them through texts and DMs. Swapping funny videos or tweets, him talking to her about filming for Mufasa or Genius, her talking about a new artist she was sourcing from all throughout the country. It felt like they were really friends, for real! That is until, the thirst edits had started popping up on her For You page and she found herself watching a couple of them a few too many times. She never liked or saved any of them, of course, but that didn’t stop her from occasionally typing his name into the little search bar.

Now, as she rounded the corner and saw the back of his head sitting outside of the restaurant, she wanted nothing more than to run up on him and whoop his ass. How dare he bring these feelings back to her?! Matter of fact -

“Ow! What the he - girl, what is wrong with you?” He exclaimed as he turned, drawing the attention of the other patrons, rubbing the back of his head where she’d hit him lightly. God, he was such a drama king. “You ain’t got no couth?”

“Boy, shut up. Spell couth.” Nevaeh dropped her bright pink purse onto the table in front of him and walked over to the entrance, as the outside seating area was blocked off by a little fence.

“C-o-u-t-h, you can’t spell it either.” He rapped once she slid into the seat opposite him, clicking his tongue at her while she rolled her eyes. “Nice purse.”

“Thanks, my annoying ass ex bought it for me.”

His jaw fake-dropped and he placed a hand over his chest. “Annoying ass ex? You sure you didn’t mean handsome, talented, hilariously charming ex?”

“What I say?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and it was now his turn to roll his eyes, her favorite response sounding nice and familiar in his ears. She used to say that shit to him all the time, especially when he wanted to do something he found fun and that she kept saying no to. At the time, it’d been irksome but now, it felt like home. God, he was so fuckin’ corny.

She looked around on the table in front of them and then for the waiter. “Where are the menus?”

“Oh, I ordered already.”

“Little presumptuous, no?”

“No. I know what you’re gonna get.” Kelvin watched as she tilted her head and stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth, a sign that she was trying to not cuss him out. He hid his smirk behind his glass of water as he took a sip from it.

“What if I changed my order?” She crossed her arms under chest. It was at this moment that he took in her outfit, a black summer dress that came down to her calves and pushed her boobs all the way up. Her wrists held her usual assortment of bracelets, clinking together as she moved. And she’d been wearing heels to match the purse, the pink sandals she knew he loved. Had she gotten dressed for him?

“You didn’t. Jerk chicken and waffles, pepper shrimp & grits on the side, a little plate of mac & cheese, and two beef patties to take home.” He sat back and crossed his arms to match her, even tilting his head too. Ooh, he pissed her off and even more now that he was right. “Plus a ginger beer and some sorrel, also for home. You look nice by the way.”

She didn’t respond at first, still eyeing him up and down. She never remembered to order the sorrel to take home, so he used to do it for her. In the two years since their breakup, every time she ordered from the restaurant, she still forgot. Fuck this nigga.

“Thanks, I was giving a tour to an investor.”

“Investor to help purchase the spot next door?”

“Fingers crossed.” To his credit, Kelvin had always been interested in her work. It was a museum that specifically highlighted pieces by all members of the African diaspora and every year, a new region became the focus. This year was Central African focused, with artists featured from Angola, Congo, Chad and many others. It was only halfway through the year at this point but they were already prepping for next year, when the focus would be on black artists from the Southern United States, of which she was extremely excited to 100% biasedly center folks from NOLA.

“I gotta pop in, see what y’all working with.” He was saying, just as the waiter arrived with their drinks as well as their plates, filled to the brim. He was the brother of the owner and they’d known him for years at that point so it should’ve come as no surprise when, after the plates were set before them, he wiggled his wrinkled finger at them.

“I like to see you two back together. Better this way.” He offered them no chance to respond, walking away briskly as they stared dumbly after him. Once their eyes met again, they both let out a little laugh and shook their heads, digging into the food.

It was quiet for a minute, and then, “You too.” She mumbled, around bites.

“Me too, what?” Kelvin asked, cutting into his oxtail and cornbread.

“You look good too.” Nevaeh smiled, because she knew his face was getting a bit hot even if she couldn’t see the blush. For a Leo, he was always quite shy when it came to her giving him compliments. She liked it though. She liked having that effect on him because he more than had it on her. “How long you in the city for?”

“Couple of weeks. I got a little place in Soho that I’m leasing for a month, just to do some auditions and shit.” He shrugged like it was nothing but to her, it felt like everything. He was going to be that close for a whole month? In the past, when he came to New York, they’d meet up almost by accident but not really. They would attend events knowing (hoping?) that the other would too, never ask, and then act surprised to run into each other at the bar or something. They’d spend damn near the whole night catching each other’s eye from across the room, maybe even attend the after party together, and then have a lot of lingering stares while she waited for her Uber. Because he always waited for her Uber with her. He’d stand damn near in the middle of the street watching it drive away. She never had to look back to know that he was doing it either.

This lunch, as it carried on and they chatted away, was the longest conversation they’d had in nearly two years. She had gotten a cat in his absence, a little black one that she had named Salem and he laughed because he knew she grew up obsessed with Sabrina the Teenage Witch. He talked about meeting Beyoncé, teasing her a little because he knew she was jealous as hell (hello, she’d been in Club Renaissance at MSG!), and showed her pictures he’d semi-creepily taken on his phone, which made her laugh. Which made him laugh. Then they were talking about their parents, their friends, the great movies he still wanted to do, the artists she still wanted to have a piece in the gallery.

It was reaching nearly six pm when they finally looked at the clock on their phones. Three hours they had sat there, like nothing had changed. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and she stared off into the distance, watching a couple walk down the street in each other’s arms and blinking back tears of the memories of them doing the same thing, on the same sidewalk, seemingly forever ago.

“Thanks for paying.” She smirked up at him once he returned. His eyes widened.

“How -”

“That’s what you always used to do, go to the bathroom and pay on your way back to the table, so I wouldn’t even offer.” He looked down at her for a beat and then smiled.

“Of course, both our mommas would beat my ass if I didn’t pay.” Kelvin put his phone into his pocket, grabbed the to-go back with her items in it, and had to shove his other hand into his other pocket to keep from offering it to her. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back.”

She got up from the table and his hand hovered over the small of her back as he led her through the dinner crowd and to the sidewalk. They walked close, feeling the heat from each other’s bodies, her gifted purse held in both hands in front of her to keep from reaching for his too. Their laughter followed them down the streets.

“I got a new painting for above the couch. It looks gorgeous when the sun hits it as it’s setting.” She didn’t have to explicitly invite him up as they approached the door to the familiar building. He just followed her in, entering the elevator and pressing the button, like second nature.

The apartment had not changed much since he had moved out. He’d been so in love with the loft when they’d moved in together, the floor to ceiling windows, the little spare bedroom that had worked as an office for them both, especially during COVID. They would get their work done, cook dinner together and often, sit on the balcony and talk for hours, just as they had done today. Eventually, after they finished eating, Nevaeh would round the table and sit on his lap, so they could watch the sunset together.

Now, he stood in the living room, admiring the gorgeous painting. It was a group black men and women, seemingly in heaven with halos on their heads, walking on the clouds. She’d been right, the sun hit the piece in a way that made the halos shine almost. It damn near brought a tear to his eye. She was standing to his right and that same setting sun gave her her own halo effect. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

She could feel his eyes on her but she was hesitant to turn and look back at him. He was too good at that, looking deep into her eyes and making her weak in the knees. But she almost couldn’t help it, twisting her next so their eyes met. Then he leaned in, his hand coming up to her chin, and their lips connected.

Nevaeh let out a small whimper as the kiss grew. His hands moved to cover the sides of her face and her own landed on his back, her nails lightly digging into his shirt. There was such a sense of familiarity, of knowing how to move their heads and hands and lips. One of his hands slipped down her face and down the front of her throat, fingers ghosting over her cleavage and coming to wrap around her waist. Kelvin felt her shiver at his touch and smiled into the kiss, pulling away for a minute.

“Did you bring me up here to seduce me? Hmm?” He bent at the knees a bit to trail kisses along her jaw and down her neck, taking his time to suck at the skin along the side. She rolled her eyes, at first at his question and then in pleasure. She worked to speak without moaning.

“I barely had to even say or do anything to get you up here, sweetheart. It seems like you wanted to be seduced.” She brought her arms up to wrap them around his neck and sighed contentedly at the work he was doing on her neck.

He chuckled before running both of his hands down to her ass, massaging it for a couple of seconds. Oh, he missed this shit bad. “You are absolutely correct, babe, as per usual. I needed this shit.” Kelvin slipped his hands underneath both cheeks, onto her thighs, and lifted Nevaeh up which elicited a squeal from her. He walked them over to the couch, sitting himself down so she was sitting on his lap and could feel the bulge in his pants. He kept one hand on her ass as he slid the other up her dress, feeling the smooth skin of her thigh and tracing the line of the thong sitting on her hips.

When he brought his hand over to her pelvis, he kept his eyes on her face as he gently felt the wet fabric. Nevaeh’s eyes glazed over and she closed them, moaning while biting her lip. He kept two of his fingers over her covered clit and let her rock her hips against them, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine.

“That feel good, baby?” Kelvin asked. She nodded and made a breathy ‘mhm’ sound, beginning to breathe heavily. He did too, matching her and letting his mouth fall open, taking in every minute way her face changed. After another minute, he pushed the fabric to the side and used his thumb rub over her clit while his thick digits slid down her soaked slit to its entrance. There, he slipped them in and her moan this time was music to his ears. She let her head fall back, a hand gripping his shoulder tightly as she grinded down more on his hand, her chest heaving. Kelvin took his eyes off her face to watch her breasts straining against the cups of her dress. His other hand was on her hip now, helping her to rock down on his fingers so he had to make do.

His teeth pulled on one cup and then the other, watching her spill out of the dress and he pulled one of her nipples in his mouth. Sucking, nibbling, on the peak while still using his hands to guide her toward her climax, which he could feel was around the corner at this point. He knew her, knew that her thighs trying to close up on him, her fingers digging into his shoulder, her head tilting slightly to the right - she was minutes, if not seconds, away from cumming on his fingers. He picked up the pace.

“Kelvin, Kel - oh my God, Kel, please!” Nevaeh rolled her hips down, feeling the oh so familiar tightening in her stomach. She hadn’t cum like this in a long time, not without the help of a little toy in her bedside table. She began chanting, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Kelvin!”

“I ain’t stoppin’, don’t worry baby.” He moved his mouth over to her other nipple, using his thumb to alternate between rubbing her clit and pressing down on it. Then, he inserted a third finger into her and he knew he’d done it. She stopped bouncing and dug her nails in so hard he just knew he was gonna have marks in his skin. Her mouth dropped open as she rode out her orgasm, looking him in the eye as he continued to move his hand inside of her.

After she had finished twitching on top of him, he removed his hand from beneath her dress, the loss of contact making her whimper. He sucked his fingers into his mouth and she felt her clit jump. Kelvin carefully pulled her off of him and then stood up, pulling his shirt off while she unzipped her dress and threw on to the other side of the couch, along with her soaked panties.

“Unbuckle my pants, baby.” He commanded and Nevaeh immediately reached up to do as she was told. Once the belt was undone, she popped open the button and unzipped him, his hard member stretching at the fabric of his briefs underneath. “Pull them down, both of ‘em.” And she did, letting his dick jump out of his underwear and hang heavy in front of her face. She could literally feel her mouth watering, for the love of all that is good in this world, this shit was ridiculous.

Taking back a bit of control, she gazed up at him, making direct eye contact as she wrapped her fingers around his thick base and guided him into her mouth. His mouth dropped open again, in pleasure, watching her take him all the way to the back of her throat and then back out again. She repeated this one, two, three times before she began to move faster on him, sucking him loudly like she knew he liked it. He was genuinely surprised his knees hadn’t buckled underneath him, her eyes still on his face as he moaned and groaned, watching his dick become covered in her spit. His hand had come to rest on her head and, eventually, when he felt his balls begin to tighten, he pulled on her ponytail to get her off of him.

“How do you want me, baby?” She asked, breathing heavy as her hand slipped up and down his length. He bit down on his lip before gently pushing her back on the couch, which was low enough to the ground that he could get on one knee and be able to line himself up with her sopping center.

Kelvin held his dick at the base, as she had done, and tapped it against her clit a couple times, listening as she moaned quietly. “You need me baby?” He looked back up at her, watching her bite her lip, nod, and ‘mhm’ again. He shook his head. “Ask me nice.”

“Please, Kel, please fuck me.” She whimpered with no hesitation, bringing her hand to rest on his stomach, tracing the abs there. “Fuck me, baby, you the only one that can make me cum right?”

“Yeah?” His voice was low and gravely as he slid into her, both of them moaning immediately. She had forgotten how much he could fill her up, especially now as he slid in all the way so her clit was touching his pelvis. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation. “None of them other niggas filling you up like this, baby?” Hmm?”

She would’ve answered but he began to rock in and out of her, his hips taking on a rhythm that had her eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. His arm stretched out above her head to get a grip on the back of the couch and Nevaeh wrapped her legs around his hips. Her hands settled on his hips, feeling him push into her over and over again.

His name fell from her lips over and over and over again. He was groaning quietly, muttering about how tight she was, how wet she was, “fuck I missed this shit” and “I still fuckin’ love you baby”.

“I love you too, yes, please, faster.” She answered back and he picked up his pace, letting his arm fall as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“You still love me, baby? Huh?” He pressed a long kiss to her lips, their tongues dancing for a moment before she let out another moan when his fingers reached down to rub her clit once more. “Say it again.”

“Yesss, I love you baby. I love you Kelvin, I love you so much.” There were tears in her eyes, both from pleasure and from whatever emotion he was drawing out of her with his words. This was not how she thought lunch was going to go today.

“I love you too.” He groaned out, kissing his way back down her neck as he began to rub her faster, piston his hips into her with more roughness. “Cum for me, baby, come on.”

She didn’t need much more encouragement, tightening her legs around him as she wailed out during her orgasm. She stars behind her closed eyes, pressing her hands tightly against his back. Kelvin followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he came in her, her name whispered from his lips into her neck.

He still moved inside of her, slowly, until he finally pulled out of her. They both moaned together again and Kelvin rolled over to lay half on the couch as she did, both of their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. He eventually lifted himself up, picking up her still trembling legs and putting them on the couch as he walked over to the bathroom. Nevaeh listened as the water ran and then he walked over with a warm rag, wiping her down gently, something he had done hundreds of times before, just not in a very long time. She got up after he sat down and rushed to the bathroom while he waited for her, smirking at the wet spot on the cushion where they’d both been minutes ago.

“I just got this shit too.” He looked up at her as she sauntered over to him, bending over to pick up his discard shirt and slip it over her head.

“My bad. I’ll get you a new one.” His hand settled on her thigh as she stood between his bare legs, looking down at him with a small smile.

“We should talk about this.” She muttered. Kelvin nodded, standing up as he did so, before picking her up bridal style.

“Oh definitely. We can do exactly that ... over breakfast. Tomorrow.” He carried them toward the stairs leading to the bedroom upstairs. “For now? I got some shit I gotta take care of. Make up for time lost. I’m thinking I gotta make you cum for every month we spent apart?”

Nevaeh’s jaw dropped. “Thirty orgasms, oh my God, are you trying to kill me?”

“Well twenty-eight now.” He laughed and through her shock, she couldn’t help but to laugh too. “What can I say, I missed you baby. I missed you bad.”

#kelvin harrison jr smut #kelvin harrison jr fanfic #kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr x reader #kelvin harrison jr x oc #kelvin harrison jr x black oc #black reader #black!oc #black!reader #black!writer #❥ 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 、one shots .

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lani-heart · 11 months ago

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|| ENHYPEN SERIES – 7 TALES MASTERLIST ||

genre(s) -> hybrid au, non-idol au, university au paring(s) -> ehyphen ( individually ) x reader(s) warning(s) -> angst, violence, crimes, bullying, drinking, etc.

abstract -> what can go wrong in a world of hybrids?

-> uploading will start May 18 //Schedule tbd -> taglist open !!

RIKI NISHIMURA || SPOILED & MISBEHAVED

abstract -> Freshman in college and put to socialize with the other kids from wealthy families. y/n and Riki Nishimura being childhood friends and hybrid / master weren’t anything like other owners. Instead, Riki misbehaves and is rude when around others wanting his owner for himself. Getting her in trouble a few too many times had got him worried that he’d be replaced like her father had warned him. So instead of waiting to be replaced… There's a new etiquette class available at the same school as his owner. How convenient… now was that gonna guarantee him a spot by her side forever?

COMPLETE -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || “perfect hybrid” CHAPTER TWO || etiquette CHAPTER THREE || misunderstandings CHAPTER FOUR || fake relationship CHAPTER FIVE || for you

JAEYUN SIM || EVERYTHING FORBIDDEN

abstract -> Seeing how Riki is treated, Jake, jealous and tired, runs away from the adoption center. Only to save a girl from the predatory men on the streets of Seoul. Not knowing he’s a hybrid, they both have the time of their lives… while he pretends to be human. How scandalous… the daughter of a wealthy known CEO to be caught with a stray hybrid?

COMPLETE -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || outcasts CHAPTER TWO || luxury CHAPTER THREE || abandonment CHAPTER FOUR || forbidden CHAPTER FIVE || anything

PARK JONG-SEONG || NEVER ENOUGH

abstract -> Haechan always liked to interfere where he didn’t belong. Making a scholarship student take a hybrid and making a bet she’ll regret wasn’t on this year's calendar. Especially with how mean and rude he was… no way he was the well-behaved and sought-after hybrid the rich kids wanted. But… was sweet and caring, at the end of the day, however, he wouldn’t turn his life from riches to rags… right?

COMPLETE -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || temporary CHAPTER TWO || scholarship CHAPTER THREE || mean CHAPTER FOUR || insecurities CHAPTER FIVE || forever

KIM SUNOO || WON'T YOU BE MY MUSE ?

abstract -> The principal's spoiled daughter returns from her trip to China only to find that her artist's block hasn't gotten any better. Who knew a cute and innocent fox would fix that? However… she swore never to own a hybrid so she could only admire him from afar as his owner turned out to be everything Sunoo hated. Even through that hatred and pain… she still saw him worthy enough to be her muse.

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || artist block CHAPTER TWO || exhibition CHAPTER THREE || envy CHAPTER FOUR || disappointed CHAPTER FIVE || muse

LEE HEESEUNG || DYSPHORIC BEAUTY

abstract -> Never adopted… I mean who would want to adopt a hybrid with big antlers on his head? It was a shame that such a pretty face had such an ugly thing growing out of his head. Would you want to adopt him? Even after he tried to cut them off risking his life in the process? Even after your parent's threats?

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || ugly CHAPTER TWO || doe eyes CHAPTER THREE || antlers CHAPTER FOUR || empty CHAPTER FIVE || pretty

PARK SUNGHOON || GRACE OF AN AMNESIAC

abstract -> The figure skater hybrid was sought after being sold for millions… but he met his match to take care of a clumsy woman. He was famous after all why should he have to take care of an idiotic woman like you who forgets to look both ways when crossing the street? Especially when you’ll end up forgetting him… all over again?

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || spring CHAPTER TWO || lies CHAPTER THREE || hate CHAPTER FOUR || truth CHAPTER FIVE || winter

YANG JUGWON || ESCAPE ARTIST

abstract -> Daughter of two renowned lawyers who just busted a case on the black mart hybrid traffickers damned their daughter with a hybrid. They thought it was a good thing to have someone to go home to after a long day… well that wasn’t true when he tried to run away every day. Until… one day she decided to not go find him.

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || service CHAPTER TWO || escape CHAPTER THREE || law CHAPTER FOUR || riot CHAPTER FIVE || liberty

if you would like to be on the taglist please send an ask or comment under this post. If you message me there might be a chance I don't see if and if you ask on another post such as in one of the chapters it'll be hard to keep up with.

taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc @nikisvanillaccola @blossominghunnie @mheretoreadff @k1ttylvr @starzniiky @kibs-and-bits @b3tt7boop @in-somnias-world @lol6posts @xiaodrrrr @jihyogfremade @b-a-nshee-blog @mimisamisasa @katsukis1wife @eggomi @thunderous-wolf @tinyteezer @lilactangerine @starfallia @sousydive @bearseulgs @rooomeo @challien @sukisvr @engeneheree

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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strawberriesoup · 4 months ago

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lollipop٠࣪⭑

── .✦ You make a deal with Jisung.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, skater!jisung x female reader, friends to lovers, neighbor au

warnings: cursing, reader is kind of a brat, kissing, borderline making out, much fluff

taglist: @jisunggy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Maybe this deal wasn’t such a good idea.

Your most recent obsession, Stardew Valley, had you begging Jisung to play just one game with you. planning to bug him into submission, you would bring up the game every chance you got. After about a week, he finally relented and agreed to play with you. On one condition. You had to let him teach you a trick on that goddamn skateboard of yours.

You from this morning had agreed. You from this morning was an idiot.

Now, you’re sweating your ass off on a dingy green park bench in the middle of July, chugging what little water you have left out of your regrettably small bottle. It had been what, three hours now? And you just couldn’t get the damned trick down. If you have to hear the words, “One more time! You were so close!” again, you might commit a war crime. The plastic of the bottle crinkles as you crush it and toss it towards the nearest trash can. You miss.

In an attempt to get Jisung’s attention, you sprawl your limbs obnoxiously over the length of the bench.

“You’re trying to kill me.” You groan, theatrically draping an arm over your face, “Your sick games won’t work forever.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a whiner you would get the hang of it faster.” Jisung suggests helpfully as he successfully throws your bottle in the trash and takes a seat next to you, shoving your leg out of the way to make room. He’s sweaty as well, and proceeds to take over any space that is left on bench.

You are most definitely not thinking about how you would love to devour him whole right now. No, that would be silly.

Five years ago, Jisung moved into the neighborhood. Both of you being in freshman year of high school, it started with you two carpooling to school. Which turned into doing homework on the weekends. Which resulted in the two of you being permanently attached at the hip.

And the whole time, you’ve had the biggest, juiciest crush on him.

That little smirk when you’re teasing him? Smitten. When he raises his arms and you can see a sliver of that waist beneath the folds of his hoodie? Good lord. And don’t even get you started on his habit of running his hand through his hair.

But of course, you’re too much of a chicken to actually tell him about it. Besides, he probably doesn’t even like you like that, and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself to find out.

“Well excuse me for not particularly enjoying having heatstroke. I’m done.”

Arms crossed, you challenge him to say something. Unfortunately, he’s gotten pretty good at dealing with your shit over the years.

In favor of a response, a pointed look is sent by Jisung, one eyebrow raised along with a just barely suppressed smile coloring his features. A bead of sweat rolls down the left side of his flushed face, suggesting that he’s probably just as warm and uncomfortable as you and he’s not complaining. Whatever. You’re still going to bitch about it.

“But you were almost there, I swear! Just one more time, pleasee?” Jisung pleads, widening his eyes and sticking out his lower lip. Not this tactic again. You hate it when he does that. He knows you can’t say no. It’s an unfair advantage.

Skateboarding with Jisung had been a nearly daily exhibition for around a year and a half now. Well, you say “skateboarding” but it really just consists of you riding to and from the convenience store at the end of the block every couple of days. Which you manage to do without falling over, thank you very much. Jisung was just a natural at it, always had been. You were, quite frankly, not.

You had never attempted a trick, content with simply watching Jisung in his element. There’s something theraputic about watching a master of their craft in action. Also you were scared of falling and breaking an arm again.

Fine. Fine. You’ll try one more time.

“Okay, one more time. But this is the last try, or I swear to God I’m going to feed your hamster to Bagel.”

Jisung grips the front of his shirt in mock offense at the threat, his gasps of, “You monster!” trailing you as you stomp off with your skateboard onto the open pavement.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Now remember, left foot on the back edge…”

A small breeze had started to pick up, alleviating some of your discomfort. The surrounding air was less stifling now, the wind bringing the scent of freshly cut grass to your senses.

What was this trick called again? A strawberry milkshake? It was one of the “easier” tricks, according to Jisung. If by “easy” he meant that it’s the mental equivalent to stepping on a lego, he was right on. This shit is hard.

The firm hold that Jisung’s hand currently has on your waist makes it even harder. He’s really not helping you focus on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, both in preparation for the trick and to quiet down the rushing of blood in your ears, you repeat the same motion you had been working on for the better portion of the afternoon.

Front foot off. Wrap around. Land.

By Jisung’s reaction, you would think you had won the lottery. He’s pumping both fists in the air and shouting, completely beside himself. You landed it! You really did!

You then proceed to wipe out on the pavement.

Yeah, that checks out.

As you’re brushing the fall from your pants, you are nearly bowled over by Jisung, who sweeps you up and spins you around in a tight hug. The rush of the breeze around you has you laughing breathlessly, holding on to him for dear life.

“Yes! Holy shit, see? I knew you could do it! That was awesome!” He sets you down, looking at you with beams of pride spilling from his crinkled eyes and heart-shaped smile.

“I did it! I finally did it!” You squeal, the adrenaline and genuine excitement of the moment taking control of your body as you bounce up and down, gripping his fingers as you do so.

The grin Jisung gives you is bright enough to light up even the darkest corners of the world, you’re sure of it. You want to keep him in your hands forever and never let go.

But, you do. After a minute of joint celebration, you inform him that you’re going to sit down for a minute to catch your breath.

Finding a nearby tree, you settle beneath its branches, eyes adjusting to the newfound shade. The grass is cool beneath your palms, calming your sun-kissed skin.

As you watch Jisung continue to skate you’re reminded of just how good at this he is. He navigates his skateboard like it’s as simple as walking, every one of his tricks are landed with precision and ease. His habit of biting his lower lip in concentration anytime he performs an air is doing nothing for your sanity though.

Your crippling sweet tooth prods at you, so you decide to reward yourself. Rustling through your bag, you pull out a lollipop, popping it into your mouth. Its tart sweetness bathes your tongue, and you cross your legs, humming contentedly as you resume your attention on Jisung.

After about ten more minutes, he’s jogging over to you with his skateboard in hand. Your heart noticeably picks up its pace. Stop that. Calm down.

Taking a seat next to you, Jisung runs his hand through his sweat-damp hair, one arm supporting his weight and the other coming to rest on his knee. He looks ethereal, skin glowing with the gentle brush of light falling from the tree above.

Then, without so much as a “hello”, the lollipop is yanked from your hand and held out of your grasp.

“Jisung, are you serious? Give it back!” You shout in exasperation at the loss of your sugar source. Is he seven years old? Who does that?

“Nuh-uh, what’s the magic word?” He stretches his arm away as you basically tackle him, reaching vainly for the candy.

“I’m not the one who should be saying please here!”

You have an idea. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you pull him towards you. This is definitely the dumbest thing you’ve done all week. But it’s too late now. You can see his eyes fly wide, trying to process the situation as you plant a kiss right on his lips. He’s soft. And warm.

When you pull away, you take the opportunity to snatch the candy back from Jisung’s now limp hand. Popping the sucker back into your mouth, you grin at him smugly. It worked.

Jisung sits there, unmoving. Lips slightly parted, he stares at you, his gaze shifting from your eyes, fluttering down to your lips, and back again. Shit, was that a bad idea? That was a bad idea. You probably should have asked first. What the fuck were you thinking?

Before you could blurt out any sort of apology, he’s grabbing your hand and the candy is pulled from your lips with a pop. It falls onto the cool grass below.

A shaking hand slots underneath your chin with barely suppressed eagerness and he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a proper kiss. The heat from his body and the sweep of his breath over you are all-consuming. blocking out the world, save for him.

This. Him. Everything about it just feels… easy. Natural. The way he cradles your jaw firmly, but with a careful gentleness that is entirely and solely Jisung. The way his free hand drapes down your side, coming to rest on top of your hip. The way his lips move in perfect harmony with yours.

The tree’s rough bark presses against your back as he leads you backwards, the sweetness of the lollipop being traded between your mouths. A flame starts to burn in your chest, spreading like wildfire until your whole body is alight with the flicker of butterfly wings.

Drawing away to look at you, Jisung runs his tongue over his glistening lips.

He’s holding himself back. He wants nothing more than to consume you, your essence, everything. He wants to show you how much he cares. He also wants to suck every last drop of sweetness from your lips. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he knows you want it as much as he does. But, God, you drive him crazy. His eyebrows pinch and he shakes his head, trying to clear it.

You feel the loss of his ministrations on you like a load of bricks. Wrapping a hand around the back of his head, you pull him onto you once more, wanting -no- needing more of him. He needs more of you too, as is evident by the way his hands tighten and by his quiet gasp of breath when you oh-so gently nip his lower lip, teasing him.

This time, you’re the one to pull away, giggling awkwardly as he squeezes his eyes shut, clearly attempting to pull himself together.

Peeking at you, he finally makes eyes contact, feeling the need to say something, anything.

“Wow…” Is all he manages out, and your giggles morph into full on laughter. You make a kissy face at him which earns you a shove to your shoulder, and Jisungs ears turning a bright red.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me!” he complains, bringing out that pout of his again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, patting his shoulder, “you’re just such a dork.”

With your side of the deal completed, it’s his turn to pay up. With the steadily setting sun lighting your way, Jisung accompanies you to your house after the silent agreement to play games now, sort out weird feelings later.

epilogue ─☆

As your game loads up, Jisung decides to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible, curling up and hunching over his respective screen. Occasionally, he glances up at you, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Okay. What is he hiding.

You (with grace) crawl across the couch to him, taking a page from his book and snatching the switch from his hands. He yells and kicks you in protest, but not before you had seen his screen.

J.one J.one’s Farm

Day 9 of Winter, Year 3 124,196g

Hours Spent: 106

One hundred and six hours. Jisung had told you that he’d never heard of the game before, let alone played it, and had very begrudgingly agreed to humor you. This whole time he’d been playing it? Why didn’t he- oh.

Jisung looks up at you with a sheepish grin, having been caught in his little scheme.

“I just wanted you to skate with me- ow!” he exclaims, bringing up his hands in defense as you bonk him with the switch.

“Next time maybe just ask?”

“How would I have gotten my kiss then?”

#fanfic #stray kids #writing #skz fanfic #cute #fluff #oneshot #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #jisung x reader #han jisung x you #jisung fluff #han jisung fic #han stray kids #hallofskz #han jisung fluff #lollipop

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linopls · 1 year ago

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birthday boys

jisung x fem!reader x felix, college!au

summary: to celebrate your boyfriend and roommates birthday, you all play a fun drinking game which reveals something about your boyfriend. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, alcohol, threesome, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it pls), voyeurism/exhibitism, cuckolding (kinda?), oral (male receiving 2x), a little degradation, a lot of praising 2.9k words (i got a little carried away.)

you started dating jisung about a year ago, you met in your anatomy class freshman year of college. while jisung needed it for his major, you were taking it as one of your science electives which meant you had no idea what you were doing. while paired together for a lab, jisung saw your struggles and offered to help you study. once the semester ended, you and jisung continued to hang out and started dating.

jisung met felix shortly after you, the two became inseparable very quickly. after freshman year, felix decided he no longer wanted to dorm on campus and found an apartment and asked if you and jisung would like to take the second bedroom.

you never had any complaints about rooming with jisung and felix. they were the nicest roommates you could ever ask for. they always did their laundry, never left dirty dishes in the sink, and always kept the fridge stocked with plenty of food.

however you have found one issue about being friends with them, their birthdays followed each other. this meant that one week every year you would spend a fortune making sure to spoil your amazing and kind friends.

remembering an article you read, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, this year you decided to recruit the help of jisung’s freshman roommate, minho, in preparing them the most amazing home cooked meal they could imagine. buying the most expensive ribs you could find, splurging on an expensive custom cake that was half each of their favorite flavors, and spending more on alcohol than you do your utilities.

you also invited some of their other friends, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin, but they know nothing about cooking and they brought board games and more alcohol for the nine of you to enjoy.

“its 6:15, where are they?” you wonder aloud.

“when have any of them ever been on time,” minho says, taking his apron off and setting it on the island.

you check your phone again for any missed texts from any of the boys and check the clock again to make sure your phone clock isn’t wrong.

“they’re nursing students doing clinicals, they will never be off on time,” minho says, pulling up one of the island chairs to sit in.

you sigh and set your head on his shoulder. “i should know that.”

“you should,” minho says, patting your back softly. “but me and you will never understand the life of not clocking out exactly at-”

the sound of the door opening interrupts minho’s thoughts and the familiar sound of jisung and felix’s laugh relaxes yours. jisung, felix, chan, and jeongin come in through the front door.

“something smells amazing!” felix says trying to catch a glimpse of the feast behind you and minho.

“you don’t get to eat until you open all your gifts!” you exclaim running to grab their presents from the living room.

with everyone’s gifts in their hands, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin follow behind you. the present piles are dropped in front of the two boys and they rip through their gifts, skim the cards, and say their thank you's before grabbing plates and filling them like they hadn’t been fed in years.

after the feast, the crowd gathers in the living room with their bottles and glasses of alcohol. while you try to sit down after doing a little head count, you notice jisung is missing. that’s when you hear a small whisper:

“y/n, y/n!” jisung calls from down the hall. “come here.”

you set down your wine glass on the coffee table, before saying a quick ‘i’ll be back’ to the boys.

before you can even ask what jisung wants, he pulls you into a warm hug and a deep kiss. his arms wrap around your lower back and his soft lips push against yours. one of your favorite quirks about jisung is that you can always feel is slight smile whenever he kisses you. you’ve never told him, he would probably die of embarrassment.

you pull away first and set your forehead against his, “happy birthday, baby.”

“you are literally the best girlfriend i could ever ask for, do you know that?”

“i’ve been told a couple times,” you giggle. “come on, let's go celebrate with all your friends!”

“can we celebrate, the two of us, later maybe?” jisung asks, wiggling his eyebrows and grabbing your hands.

“of course,” you blush. “i have a special surprise for you later.”

after watching half a movie, the group decides to play one of the board games that was brought.

“i found this game wandering through target and thought it would be fun,” seungmin says, pulling out a card game labeled ‘truth or drink’.

after explaining the rules and everyone refilling their drinks, we begin. a couple rounds go through, people are spilling their biggest secrets or slowly working their drinks to be empty again.

“y/n, its your turn,” hyunjin reminds you.

you pull a card and read it aloud. “if you had a threesome with three people in the room, who would it be and why?”

the room is silent for a second as you think if you want to answer it or drink. jisung interrupts the silence by adjusting the way he is sitting and clearing his throat.

“what will be be, y/nnie?” minho asks, trying to hold back laughter.

“well i think i have to pick jisung as one.”

“you’d HAVE to?” jisung gasps, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.

“oh zip it,” you snap. “and i guess, felix? it would be easiest to arrange our schedules that way.”

felix’s eyes go wide and cheeks flush red.

“you think too logically,” jeongin laughs before drawing a card for his turn.

the rest of the night finishes without any issues, except changbin spilling his drink once. the rest of the boys uber or walk home around 3AM and you, jisung, and felix head into your bedrooms for a good night’s rest.

before you can even shut your door, jisung is kissing at your neck like a ravished vampire. you melt into his touch and turn to face him. he pushes his body against yours and gently snakes his hand behind your head before pushing you back into the door. you slide your hands underneath his shirt and he separates your kiss only to discard it and throw it to the floor.

with jisung’s open chest on display, you start to kiss down his jawline and onto his collarbone leaving small marks along the way. jisung gasps softly at everytime you bite down on his soft skin.

“baby,” he says between small moans. “i have a question.”

“mhm,” you reply, still working on leaving marks on his chest.

“that threesome question.” he says and you stop and look up at him. his eyes shiny and filled with lust and his face flushed pink. “i know we never talked about it before, but would you want to?” he asks shyly.

you fully stand and cup your hands around his round cheek and think. “i’ve never thought about it before,” you say, pressing a kiss to his nose. “maybe, yeah sure, why not? it sounds intriguing .”

jisung makes a noise you could only describe as a small whimper. “would you want to…” he trails off.

“what baby? talk to me.”

“would you want to right now? like with felix? like you said?”

you’re stunned and jisung realizes. “i’m sorry for saying anything, we don’t have to, it was just an idea. we can go back-”

“yeah get him in here.”

“what?”

it’s not like you never noticed how attractive felix was. when he stretches his arms above his head and you catch a glimpse at his abs. when he’s concentrated on his games and his tongue peaks out between his beautiful and plush lips. when you talk to him early in the mornings and his voice is raspy and deeper than usual.

“what do you want to do with him?”

“y/n, are you serious?” jisung asks, snapping out of whatever whimpering-lust-haze he was in.

“yes, i am serious, jisung. what do you want to do with him?”

“i don’t want to do anything with him.”

“what do-”

“i want to watch.”

heat rushes to your core, butterflies fill your stomach, and you might have started to drool. the idea of being watched while having sex wasn’t something you ever thought you’d enjoy. but something about your boyfriend wanting to watch you have sex with another man, in front of him, felt so bad that it felt right.

after kissing you one last time, jisung leaves the room. you start to panic and wonder if this was a bad idea. you turn to look in your vanity mirror and remember your special surprise you had for jisung and think about how it can be used for the two boys.

felix and jisung come into the room and you can feel the atmosphere become more tense.

jisung speaks first. “i explained it to him, he’s okay with it. we’ve already agreed if anyone is uncomfortable at any point, we stop and this never happened.”

“okay.” is all your able to say, you can feel your body being filled with nerves.

“y/n?” felix says. his voice is soothing, and knowing what is about to happen between you both makes him saying your name almost, sexy.

“i’m ready.” you say.

jisung walks over to you first and begins to kiss you with a level of passion you never knew he had. he kisses up your jawline and whispers into your ear. “i love you baby.”

this gives you the confidence you did not know you had, or maybe its the alcohol. “both of you sit on the bed, please.” you ask softly. they both comply, looking at each other with excitement in their eyes.

you very slowly, and very seductively, slide your pants down your legs. you look up to jisung for approval and he just smiles like a child about to indulge in his favorite candy. you then look over at felix who has his tongue poking through his luscious lips, staring at your legs.

your surprise is still hidden, until you slide your (jisung’s) oversized shirt off and over your head. jisung’s eyes widen and felix covers his crotch with his hands. you had never worn lingerie in your life, but decided to treat jisung, and now felix, for their birthdays. you picked out jisung’s favorite color, red, and made sure to get something that would accentuate your curves.

“jesus baby,” jisung sighs. “you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“thank you. but tonights not about me, it's about you two.”

you walk over to felix and place a hand on his cheek. “can i kiss you?” you ask, leaning down to be eye level with him.

he nods and you kiss those soft plush lips you’ve wanted to kiss for months. you hear jisung moan slightly in the background, watching you makeout with his best friend in front of him is like porn he could never imagine. felix hesitantly kisses you back.

his lips are soft, softer than they look. after kissing him for a minute you can feel him gain more confidence in this whole scene but he doesn’t move his hands. you pull away slowly and look him in his eyes. they have the same shiny and lust filled look that jisung’s get, which reassures you slightly.

“can i sit on your lap?” you ask.

felix nods quickly and moves his hands from covering his crotch to being placed softly on your hips. when you fully sit down, you feel the bulge in his pants pressed up against your clothed core. the sensation of straddling another man while your boyfriend watches sends a shiver down your spine.

as you begin to kiss felix again, you feel the weight of the mattress shift and jisung’s body behind yours. he starts to kiss at your shoulder and up your neck. this causes you to moan loudly. jisung laughs slightly before his presences disappears from behind you and you hear your vanity chair being moved. you can only assume that jisung has moved it and sat in it to watch the show going on in his bed.

you start to kiss felix more passionately, slipping your tongue into his mouth and sliding your hands up and down his chest. you bite down on his bottom lip, releasing a low groan from him, before pulling away and start to pull his shirt off his body. you must stare at his abs a little too long before he grabs your chin and pulls you back into a kiss.

you gently push felix back onto the bed, and start to kiss down his chest and stomach, leaving red marks and bruises on his perfectly soft skin. you hear his breath hitch in his throat as you make it to the waistband of his pajama pants. you stop kissing his skin to look up at him.

“can i?” you ask.

“please, y/n.” he groans while lifting his hips to help you remove his pants.

you’re mouth waters at the sight of felix’s cock springing free from the confines of his pants. felix sighs of relief as slowly wrap one of your hands around the base. you slowly lick a stripe following the pulsing vein on the bottom of his cock to the head and pull off. you look up to see he’s propped himself up on his elbows and eyes are closed in pleasure. you take another long lick and stop at his red and angry tip, you place a kiss on the tip and start to go back down to the base.

before you can reach the base, felix slides his hand into your hair and pulls your head back to the top of his cock. “please don’t tease, y/n.”

you smile and readjust your position to take his cock down your throat. you take every inch painfully slow, you hear felix’s breathing start to get heavier and hear movement from jisung behind you. you feel tears swelling up in your eyes as you start to fully take him in your mouth and you have to stop and pull off before you reach the base.

felix moves his hand from your hair and wipes the spit off your mouth. “it’s okay baby, i know i’m a little bigger than sungie,” he laughs.

“shut up or your out!” jisung says throwing your shirt (you think) at felix.

“my fault, my fault.” felix looks down at you again. “are you okay, love? do you want to do something else?”

you could cum on the spot. the way he’s so kind and gentle while doing something so extremely erotic sends new feelings to your core.

“i’m okay, you can be a little rougher if you want,” you say, placing your mouth back on the tip of his cock.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly gathering your hair into a ponytail with his hand.

“mhm,” you say, mouth full of his cock.

felix slowly pushes you down on his cock, stopping when he feels your throat close and pulling back out again. he does the same thing a little quicker before asking again if you're ready. when you give him the go ahead, he starts again, slowly but accelerates his pace quickly. as he begins to fuck your face, you can feel your mind start to go blank. you move your hands to rest on his hips and out of the corner of your eye you can see jisung move to sit next to him.

jisung’s shirt is off and he’s palming himself through his pants with his left hand and with his right he moves a strand of hair that fell out of felix’s makeshift ponytail behind your ear.

“look at our pretty little slut letting you use her mouth like that,” jisung says as he starts to undo his belt. the comment makes both you and felix moan and felix starts to fuck your mouth even faster.

tears are streaming down your face and you're digging your nails so hard into felix’s thighs you might draw blood. you look over at your boyfriend to see his slowly jerking himself off to the erotic sight of his girlfriend being face-fucked by his best friend.

felix’s thrust slowly start to become more erratic and you can tell he’s about to finish soon. you start to moan and hum around his cock to bring him to the feeling quicker.

“i’m g-gonna cum, where? where?” felix groans.

“in her mouth, she’ll swallow it all,” jisung says matter-of-factly and he begins to fuck into his hand faster.

“jesus christ, fuck,” felix moans loudly as his hips sputter out of control. “i’m cumming.” felix thrusts one more time, deep and hard, down your throat before finishing with a guttural groan.

“don’t swallow,” jisung commands as felix slowly pulls his softening cock out of your mouth. jisung slowly stands up and pulls your head to be face to face with his cock.

“open,” he says, grabbing your mouth. the sight of felix’s cum sitting on your tongue is enough to make jisung finish all over your tongue. “now swallow.”

you swallow their mixed seed with a moan and without jisung having to ask, you open your mouth to show them both. felix groans and lets himself fall back onto the bed and jisung cups your face in his hands.

“good girl.” he smiles. “will you let felix and me take care of you now?"

got highkey carried away so if you want a pt 2 lmk!!

UPDATE PT 2 IS HERE

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queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months ago

Text

Final Piece of the Puzzle

Pairing: College!Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: mostly fluff

Summary: Peter has been trying to find his way after Dr. Strange erased him from everyone on the planet. He goes to college, does his work, and tries to get by without the people from his old life. That is, until he meets you. No matter what kind of spell was done, you can’t forget Peter Parker.

Squares Filled: lost for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

All you need for this weekend is a lot of caffeine and a ton of silence. You have this term paper that is due next week and you haven’t started on it. This weekend will be free of distractions, friends, and everything else in your life. In order to get in the zone, you need coffee and lots of it. There is a coffee shop right next to your dorm that has your favorite iced coffee that only they seemingly know how to make. If you go anywhere else, someone manages to fuck it up. Not them. They know how to do it right.

You walk into the coffee shop that’s not busy and put your order in for two iced coffees, one of which you’ll keep in the fridge. Today is Friday which means you just have to get through two classes and you can start on your paper afterward. After acquiring your coffee, you head for the front door with your head down. You’re not watching where you’re going and almost run into someone, causing your coffee to almost spill all over him.

“I am so sorry,” the man says.

You look up and see chocolate brown eyes and curly outgrown hair. The man has a sort of baby face that makes him look a lot younger than he is, but based on his university sweatshirt, he attends this college like you do. There’s something familiar about this man but you can’t quite place it. Maybe you don’t know him and he has one of those faces.

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Nothing spilled so you’re okay.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You nod once before stepping aside and walking out of the coffee shop. He turns and watches you walk off with a longing look on his face. Your first class goes by without a hitch, and you’re inside your second class before you know it. Your first class got out later than usual so the only open seats were located in the back. You look to the person to your right and pause when you see it’s the same man as the one you ran into.

“Hi again.” You sit down and look at his surprised look on his face. “What?”

“You remember me?”

“Yeah, I ran into you and almost spilled my coffee.”

“Oh, right,” he chuckles in embarrassment. “My name is Peter. Peter Parker.” You stare at him in a way that makes him start to sweat. “What?”

“Have we met before?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he mumbles.

“Are you sure? You look familiar.” He shrugs shyly and you decide not to make the man more uncomfortable. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles.

You try to focus on the class but you keep feeling his eyes on you. You don’t entertain him by confronting him but you know he’s watching you. After class, you quickly leave and meet up with your friends while Peter follows closely behind you. Whatever weird behavior he exhibited during class is out of your mind by the time you meet with your friends. Peter pretends to be busy on his phone, but he’s watching you laugh with your friends.

You look like nothing bad has ever happened to you. You look so happy. How can he ever think to bring you back into his life now that he knows what you look like without him in it? You feel eyes on you and look over at Peter. He quickly turns and walks away from you.

Remember that no distraction rule? Yeah, that went right out the window. You tried to focus on your paper all weekend and got it done, but you kept thinking about Peter. Why is he refusing to leave your mind? You’ve met a lot of people and dated your share of men but none of them has ever stuck to you like Peter has. Have you met him before? If so, where? You’re a freshman in college so high school wasn’t that long ago. You’d remember Peter if he went to your high school.

To celebrate the completion of your paper, you decide to go to the local flower store and splurge on some flowers to liven up your apartment while your roommate is gone. She apprecioates splashes of color in the white apartment, and you both love the smell of the flowers on campus. The only one on campus sells the most beautiful flowers and they’re the only ones who carry your favorite kind of flower, the Franklin Tree Flower. It’s said to only grow on a specific set of trees that are nearly extinct, but this shop has direct access to those flowers.

“Hi, welcome in,” the store owner smiles when you walk in.

“Hi. Do you have the Franklin Tree Flower in stock?”

“Whatever we have out there is what we have. I’m not sure if it’s there or not.”

“Okay, thanks.” You walk around the small store and at every single flower they have but you can’t see the one you want. You’ll take any of these but that happens to be one of your favorites around. Not only is it rare, but it has a super sweet scent to them that you love. You turn the corner and see Peter with some flowers in hand. “Hi, Peter.”

“Oh, hi, Y/N. Pretty flowers, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you looking for in here?”

“It’s a really rare flower; one of my favorites. Not many people have heard of it, but--”

“Franklin Tree Flower?”

You’re stunned into silence. You’ve never met anyone who has loved that flower much less know about it.

“Yeah, actually. How did you know?”

“It’s my favorite, too. I found the last bunch.”

You look down at the flowers in his hands to see four Franklin Tree Flowers.

“Lucky you.”

“I want you to have them,” he says and holds them out for you.

“Oh, I couldn’t. Those are yours.”

“They’re meant for someone special.”

“Why don’t we split them? You take two and I take two?”

“Deal,” he smiles.

He hands over two of the flowers and you inhale their sweet scent.

“Thank you,” you grin.

If you couldn’t get Peter out of your head before, you certainly can’t now. There is no way you don’t know who he is. You feel a sense of safety when you’re near him. There’s something about him that tugs at your heartstrings as if you two have known each other for a long time. No matter how hard you think or how close you are to figuring it out, you can’t seem to get over that hill.

Maybe if you talk to him about this, you might be able to figure out how to cross that hill in your mind. Peter doesn’t live on campus but you two just had a class together so you know he’s around here somewhere. You walk from your last class past the cafeteria and over to where the parking lot is. Peter doesn’t drive but the bike rack is there, and your shoulders sag in relief when you find him there trying to untangle his bike from the others.

He has extra things to carry so he’s trying to tie everything to the back of his bike but as soon as he fits everything together, something falls out and he has to start over.

“You piece of hubble bubble. Come on,” Peter complains.

You halt right there on the sidewalk when you hear his choice of words. You’ve heard that before. There was only one person who would use that instead of cussing. He didn’t like to cuss even though everyone around him did. He liked having friends but only his small circle because he felt safe with them. He trusted them above anyone else. He made new friends in the search to defeat Thanos. After coming back from the snap, he leaned on his friends for support at the loss of Tony Stark and his Aunt May. He tore a hole right into the multiverse and had Dr. Strange erase him from everyone’s mind.

How the hell are you remembering him now? You stumble back from shock and Peter looks up when he hears your outcry.

“Y/N!”

“Peter…”

“Yeah?”

“No, you’re Peter Parker. You helped save the world from Thanos. You brought those other Peter’s to our world. You made everyone forget who you are.” Peter drops everything in his hands and rushes over to you immediately. You fall into his arms and look into his eyes with tears streaming down your cheeks. “You were my boyfriend.”

“How do you remember that? Dr. Strange made it so everyone forgot me.”

“How could I forget you? You’re the love of my life.”

“I can’t believe you remember me. I can’t believe this is happening.”

Peter, with all excitement in his body, pulls you close and kisses you passionately. You keep him close with your arms around his neck and kiss him back with just as much passion.

“I told you I’d come find you,” he whispers.

“I missed you so much,” you giggle through the tears. You pull away from him completely and wipe your tears. “I knew something was missing from my life.”

Peter pulls you in again and kisses you, and everything seems right with the world. It doesn’t matter if everyone else forgets him, you remember and that’s all that matters.

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