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frannyzooey · 28 days

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Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E (age gap)

Summary: Best friends with younger one, you’ve known the Miller brothers since forever — you’ve wanted the older one for just as long.

a/n: it’s been a while! I’ve been writing over on Ao3, but thought I would pop in and say hi and happy summer ❤️ enjoy! —

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you wonder how much longer you need to stay before it’s appropriate to leave.

You can’t even remember the name of the person who's talking at you – someone who said they took calc with you or something, back in high school. Brian, maybe? Ben? Picking at the label on the bottle in your hand, you tip the last swallow of warm beer into your mouth, grimacing at the taste.

“Gimme a second,” you interrupt him. “I’ll be right back.”

Not a fuckin’ chance , you think to yourself.

Navigating through the crowd of people packed into the Miller’s living room, you make your way towards the kitchen. Needing another beer to get through it all, you head straight for the fridge – only to see someone already there, their broad back facing you. When they straighten and shut the door, you reach out and pluck the beer from their hand.

“Thanks for the beer, Miller.”

Joel huffs, grabbing another one from the fridge. Turning to face you, he leans his hip against the counter.

“You even old enough to drink?” Twisting the cap off, he takes a long, slow drink, his throat working with the motion.

You roll your eyes, and his eyes drift down your body and back up again.

Playing it cool, you clink your bottle against his.

“Cheers, old man.”

His eyes narrow, and he waits a beat before tipping the bottle against his lips.

His face has been a fixture in your life for as long as you’ve known Tommy – a kid you met back in elementary school. Tommy was a few years older than you, Joel even older than him. The fact that you were younger never bothered Tommy – you were just as daring as any boy his age, and he was more fun than any girl your own. A fixture by his side more often than not, you’d stuck together through middle school and then high school, through boyfriends and girlfriends, through Tommy’s enlistment after senior year.

The entire time, Joel was there.

In the beginning, you never paid him any attention. Busy working since he could, you barely saw him. The couple times you did see him at parties, it was only as Tommy’s ride, or showing up when Tommy got in trouble with his mouth. Like he never had any patience for parties or stuff like that; an aged man since forever. Even at their house, Joel had been…around, but he never stuck around for long. Always drifting away to go hang out in the garage, or in his room.

It was during high school when you started looking at him differently. Started paying attention to him in a way you never did before. Starting noticing things like he never had a girl around – or at least one that stuck , though you knew he knew his way around them, because you saw him in town sometimes.

Walking out of a liquor store with a brown bag, a girl sitting in the passenger seat of his truck.

Pulling open the door of the bar, his hand on the small of another girl’s back.

Once, you saw him at the movie theater you worked at senior year. You still remember the heat that flooded your face when he strolled up to the ticket booth where you were standing, the broad smile he had on his face for his date, one that turned your insides warm. His arm was looped around her back, his hand resting on her ass with casual confidence.

You’d never been so jealous of someone in your life.

You left him behind (not that he ever knew it) when you went away to college. A visit back home after your first year timed with a visit home from Tommy, Joel is right where you left him, still on the fringes. Only at the party to keep an eye on things, to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand, still keeping to himself. He’s been upstairs all night, only coming down every so often for another beer.

The mystery of how he spent his time used to consume you back in your school-kid crush days…and it comes back full force, when he leaves you in the kitchen to go back up to his room.

Leaving the noise of the party behind you, you climb the worn carpeted stairs. The second floor of their house is off limits to party guests, but you also know that doesn’t apply to you. Having been to this house more times than you can count, you know right where Joel’s bedroom is. You’ve never been in it though, which is part of the pull that drives you towards it – along with a slice of light that breaks through where he’s left the door cracked.

You nudge it open with your knuckle, to find him sitting inside.

At a desk chair, his legs spread wide in his slouch. A beer rests in his hand, the other one holding a book and at your presence, he puts the book face down in his lap.

He frowns. “Everything okay down there?”

“Yea. Just thought I’d come up and say hi. See what you’re doing.”

“Said hi in the kitchen,” he teases. He lifts the book with one hand. “And I was readin’.”

Used to his gruff sarcasm, you ignore it. “Any good?”

His eyes follow you as you walk further into the room, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“Not really,” he answers. “Just waitin’ for everyone to leave.”

You know that’s not going to happen any time soon; another large group of people had walked in just as you made your way upstairs.

A golden hue washes over everything, a single lamp burning on the desk, the colors of everything else dulled in the dim light. Shadows pool in the corners of the room, but he is lit, though only parts of him: the chestnut ends of his curls, his tanned skin, the stretch of his jeans across his thighs. The bed you sit on has a rumpled comforter, clearly having been slept in.

Arousal pools low and heady between your hips.

Has he ever brought another girl up here? Has he fucked anyone in this bed?

You imagine it briefly: his flushed cheeks, his heavy breathing, his muscles shifting under his skin. Your hand trembles, and you grip your beer tighter.

“Already sick of bein’ downstairs?” he asks.

You thumb at the condensation gathered on the bottle, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Yea. Sort of. It’s always a little awkward when you come back, you know?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. Never been anywhere but here.”

Your shoulders slump, and you let out a sigh. “Right. But you know what I mean.”

Suddenly, the weight of exhaustion pulls at you: the smiles you had to force downstairs, the names you tried to recall, the crush of people and the fake enthusiasm. You came here for Tommy, and you’ve barely seen him tonight. Forgetting for a second that you’re not in Tommy’s bedroom, you relax and let yourself fall backwards on Joel’s bed. The second you do it, you freeze – but don’t correct it.

You’re in Joel Miller’s bed. Lying down.

You feel the hem of your shirt ride up, but don’t fix it. The sheets smell like him, and you hear him huff.

You also feel the weight of his eyes on you.

–

He should be more annoyed that you’re in his bedroom, but he can’t take his eyes off your legs: a mile long in your cutoffs, the slight peek at the curve of your ass in their ride high. The slice of soft skin he can see, between your waistband and your shirt.

He watches you roll over and prop your head up on your hand, not liking at all how good you look in his bed.

He’s been watching you since you came back. Watched you even before that, though he’d never admit it. Walking around their backyard in a tiny bikini when you lounge with Tommy by the pool, looking gorgeous as hell all windblown and carefree sitting in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck, looking so fucking innocent and beautiful swamped in one of Tommy’s sweaters by the bonfires he’s been having at night since he came back.

The sight of your ass in those shorts as you walk around their house has been imprinted on his mind all week.

He sits up, clearing his throat. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he lets his head hang down between his shoulders. If he can avoid looking at you, maybe his cock will stop hardening with interest.

“I think you better get back downstairs.”

“I just wanna catch up,” you reply innocently, looking anything but.

He looks up, giving you a knowing look in reprimand. “That ain’t all you wanna do.”

He doesn’t know what compelled him to say that to you , but he does know it to be true. He’s seen the look on your face on plenty of women before – women . You’re a girl . One he’s known since forever. One he never thought about until he did, and one he tried not to think about once he started.

One who is way too fucking young for the things he’s thought about doing to you.

“No?” you ask. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I wanna do?”

He shakes his head instead.

The edges of your mouth curl up in a soft, teasing smile. “Joel Miller, a secret prude.”

His head snaps up, “I ain’t no prude, honey, you’re just –”

“Honey?” Your eyebrows lift, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just what?”

“ Young. Too young.”

“I’m twenty.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes and you cave.

“Almost. In a few months.”

He huffs in disgust, dropping his head back down. “Jesus Christ. A baby.”

He feels you study him for a moment.

“I missed you while I was gone, you know.”

The confession surprises him, and he looks up to find your face completely sober, truthful.

“Did you miss me?” you ask quietly.

The vulnerability on your face pulls at him, and even though he knows what will happen if he gets on that bed, he wants to. If only to tuck you against his chest and reassure you that he did. He really did. He knows you think he never noticed you, but that’s only because he made you feel that way. He couldn’t notice you, for both your sakes.

“Just come…sit with me, okay?” you ask. “I’m not gonna bite.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, keeping his eyes on the floor. He feels you wait with bated breath, knowing full well that he should stand up and walk you out of his bedroom…but he can’t bring himself to leave you hanging like that.

Instead, he stands, and walks over to the bed.

Your face flashes with surprise that you try to hide, and he smirks.

There is a look on your face he’s seen a million times — a bolstering sort of lift to your chin, the look of a tough girl that would follow his brother anywhere. A girl who never backed down, even when he could tell she was nervous.

A girl he knows he shouldn’t want, but does anyway.

He tests the waters, crawling onto his bed. Stretching out next to you, he sprawls across the mattress, his broad form partially covering yours in shadow. He can feel the heat gather between your bodies. You look even younger close up, and he leans closer, unable to stop himself from pushing to see how far you’ll go.

He recognizes that same determined look on your face now, only this one is slightly different. This one is laced with lust, and want. So much fucking want it makes him ache.

“Okay, big girl,” he drawls. “Now what?”

–

It’s his turn to be surprised when you lean in and press your mouth to his.

You can tell because he momentarily freezes when your lips meet, his stubble brushing against your skin, your lips fitting neatly along the seam of his own. You kiss him again, this time opening your mouth just enough to let him in and he takes your invitation, the taste of beer thick on his tongue when he slides it against yours. His hand comes up, cradling the curve of your jaw as you tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss and a soft sound that catches in the back of your throat has his fingers flexing, pulling you closer.

The sheets rustle beneath you when he takes over, his hold guiding you beneath him on the bed. He kisses you harder, longer, a deep groan rumbling from his chest, the light of the room blocked out behind him. His solid body weighs heavy on top of you, his denim clad hips pushing between your thighs with a grind and you open your legs wider, his hand sliding up the outside of your leg to hitch your knee around his hip.

It’s sensory overload after wanting him for so long. You’ve daydreamed about this a million times, imagined it happening a million different ways, but you never thought it would be anything like this. Lost in the weighted haze of lust, drunk on the way he feels against you, head swimming with arousal, the crotch of your panties already so fucking wet that they slide over your achingly empty core with every rock of his hips into yours. Meeting the rolling grind of his hips with your own, you feel the weight of his cock press against you, his calloused hand covering your breast with a squeeze. His hips rock forward again, the grinding promise of what he’s capable of against the damp seam of your shorts and you are just about to beg him for more when he pulls back, standing.

In one long stride, he shoves the door shut and locks it.

Tugging his shirt off with a one handed grip over his head, you take in the sight of his broad, solid chest and the dusting of hair that scatters sparsely just under his collarbones. It’s thicker along his sternum, even thicker still just under his navel, where it leads into the waistband of his jeans. He looks so…big, from where you lay on the bed. Older, masculine in a way you’ve never seen on a boy your age. Your eyes run the length of his body and back up again, the outline of his thick cock pushing against the fly of his jeans making your cunt flutter.

He opens the drawer next to his bed, tossing a condom down and there is something so arousing about the matter of fact action, the implied sight of it just sitting there, waiting for him. Black, with gold letters. When his hands drop to work open his belt buckle with single minded intent, you reach down to slide your shorts off.

“Don’t.”

Your hands pause.

“I wanna do that.”

You don’t even know what to say in response before he’s bending to grab you behind your knees, hauling you to the edge of the bed. Your shirt rides up your back, and sit up enough to tear it over your head, your bra following shortly after as his greedy eyes track every movement. His thick fingers pop open the button on your shorts, hooking under the fabric and he drags them down and off, bringing your panties along with them.

Then he stands there, his hands on your knees. He pushes them apart, and you try not to squirm as he spreads you for him.

“Goddamn.” The word pours out of his mouth, saturated with awe, low with lust.

Your thighs flinch, your knees trying to pull together to hide yourself from the heat of his gaze, but he keeps a firm grasp on them, holding you open.

“Don’t try to hide it from me now, honey.”

His eyes drop from your face to the gleaming spread of your cunt. He reaches down, his thumb brushing over your opening, and it’s so fucking filthy the way he drags it through the mess you’ve made for him.

“Especially not when it’s this pretty,” he murmurs.

He drops to his knees, your breath hitching when he tugs you closer to his mouth and guiding your legs over his bare shoulders, his mouth immediately seeks you out.

“ Fuck .”

The word slides into a moan when your body bows off the bed to chase the slick heat of his tongue. It smears wetness over everything, dipping inside you to drag upwards to your clit and then he’s fitting the bottom half of his face along your cunt with a messy, open mouthed kiss.

He devours you there the same way he devoured your mouth earlier, and the sensation is simultaneously too much but not enough, your hands finding purchase in his sheets. You fist them, twisting them in your grip as you start to rock your hips and you have never - never - had this done to you before, a tremble pouring sweet and thick down your spine to pool right under his mouth.

His hands keep your thighs forced open, his shoulders spreading you wider and when his tongue starts to swirl firm, tight circles over your clit, it drags a hoarse moan out of your throat.

Too consumed to care if you’re being too loud, every thought leaves your head when two thick fingers stroke delicately along the dip of your opening, before sliding inside you with a filling stretch just as he starts to suck . His whiskered cheeks hollow with it, your words breathless and pleading. A stretch just to take his fingers , you close your eyes and feel your stomach drop when you think about taking his cock.

The thought alone sends you flying over the edge.

When it happens, he groans into you just as loud as if he’s the one who’s come, and a second wave washes hot over your limbs when you peek down to see the upper half of his face between your spread thighs. His brows pinched together, his eyes closed tight, his white knuckled hold on your thighs.

The music turns up louder downstairs, a shout of a crowd greeting new arrivals – but it’s lost in the intimacy of the bedroom. His satisfied low groans, your trembling thighs, his damp beard against your skin.

Pulling back, he wipes your slick from his face with his hand – and then gives your cunt a sharp, flat swat.

The action shocks you, your eyes widening and the grin on his face is charmingly boyish. Or would be, if he didn’t follow it with a filthy suck of the fingers that were just inside you. He stands, shucking his jeans and briefs off in one movement, and puts a knee on the bed between your legs, reaching for the condom. His large hands rip it open, and though you can feel his gaze rest heavily on you as he puts it on, your eyes are fixed firmly on his cock.

It’s – big. Much bigger than you’ve ever seen, a grown man’s dick. He fists it lazily for a moment, the weight of it evident in his grip and when he places the condom over the tip and rolls it down to the base, you openly stare. The translucent rubber fits snug and tight, down to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

When you finally drag your eyes up to his face, he looks smug.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. It’ll fit.”

The amount of times you’ve thought about this moment is nothing compared to the real thing. The man standing in front of you has always been off limits, a complete mystery to you all these years, even as the subject of most of your debased fantasies. The realness of him — the solid width of his frame, the flush to his skin, the amount of bare, firm skin on display. You swallow hard, a bundle of nervous anticipation even though he just fucked you with his mouth.

He settles his body on top of you, caging you underneath him and the press of his hot skin has all of your nerves scattering, evaporating into need .

His mouth rests right next to your ear, a kiss brushed against the divot below it.

“We’ll make it,” he whispers.

If you thought his fingers were a snug fit, it’s nothingcompared to how full you feel as he slides in. The stretch almost to the point of pain save for how wet he got you beforehand, it still steals the air from your lungs as he pushes inside. You squirm underneath him, shifting to accommodate every single inch and his hand curls around your waist, his hips pushing forward with a final, hard thrust.

His mouth brushes tenderly along your clenched jaw, letting you get used to it before his hips find a rolling rhythm. Every downstroke shoving you up underneath his hold, you hold on tight, hitching your knees up along his ribs and your feet slide over his tailbone, a whine crawling out of your outstretched throat.

“This little pussy is so tight ,” he groans, his hot breath gusting over your skin. “So fucking tight.”

His hand shoves itself under your tailbone, angling your hips to take him deeper and his own groan sounds deep over your softer, higher one.

“Do you have any idea how much I thought about fuckin’ you? How many different ways I’ve wanted to?”

Hearing him utter those words makes your chest crack open, your heart thundering underneath your rib cage. Everything you’ve ever wanted to hear, paired with more than you ever thought you would.

He picks up pace, his hips a relentless, heavy pound into the cradle of your own, each thrust punching the air out of you – and your fingers claw into his forearms when he sits back on his heels, pushing your knees to your chest to fuck you harder.

The bed pounds lewdly against the wall, the music from the party covering it up.

“Joel,” you whine, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. It feels like you’re being used by him, your body a tool for his own pleasure, your pliant, moldable body being positioned just for his use. It sends you higher, thinking about him doing the same for others, right here in this bed.

You start to tense underneath him, the wave of slick, brutal pleasure pulling you under and when you come, it’s a wordless, breathless thing – your body pulling taut, your cunt squeezing him tight. He groans, dropping forward to cover your mouth with his, his hand sliding up to wrap around the nape of your neck with a grip and he forces himself deeper, his strokes urgent in their snap against you.

He rests his forehead against yours, and through the haze of your freshly fucked gaze, he recognizes the same look from before. A girl who never backs down, a girl who knows how to hold her own.

“I already want it again, Joel,” you breathe against his mouth, his heavy pants washing over your lips. “Next time, I’m gonna ride you. I’m gonna sit on your lap and you can watch me take it, okay?”

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips stuttering. They chase the slick warmth of your cunt, his eyes closing tight.

“You’re fuckin’ trouble, you know that?” he rasps, his fingers threading into the hair at your nape, fisting it with a tug. The motion tips your head back for him, a victorious grin stretching across your face.

“A pain in my ass since I met you,” he pants, letting out a deep groan. “A sweet piece of ass in my bed.”

You nod, the smile on your face melting into something pleasure soaked when he shifts the angle of his hips.

“I’m gonna come inside this little cunt, okay? And then I’m gonna do it all over again. You ready, honey?”

“God yes.”

He buries his face in the damp crook of your neck when he comes, he back rounding as his hips still in their push against yours. He’s so deep you know you’re going to feel it tomorrow – more than you’ve ever taken, a stretch you know will make you ache every time you sit down. He holds onto you so tight that you can barely breathe, and it’s a special sort of heaven to be buried underneath the bulk of his body. Your cheek pressed against his curls, your chest compressed under his. Your hips sore from being spread so wide, your cunt still snug around him.

He lifts just enough to see you, and opens his mouth – right when something crashes beneath his room.

“What the fuck , Tommy,” he grumbles, and you laugh at his instant change of expression. He slips out from inside you with a groan, his hips imperceptibly shifting forward to chase the heat between your thighs. He presses a quick, hard kiss against your lips and then he’s dragging himself from the bed, tugging the condom off and tying it in a neat knot.

Tossing it in the trash next to his bed, he grabs his jeans off the floor.

“I’m gonna go downstairs and see what the hell that was,” he says, sliding them up over his bare ass. Buttoning them, he shoots you a look. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ get dressed.”

You gesture a wordless salute, and he shakes his head, smiling.

“Smartass,” he grumbles, picking a shirt up off the floor. Sliding it over his head, he opens the door and disappears.

“Tommy!”

You hear him shout and a laugh bubbles up from your chest.

“What the fuck was that?”

Stretching out, you slide against the warm, rumpled sheets and listen to the familiar sound of their deep voices. For the first time since you’ve been back, you feel like you’re home.

Pressing your face into his pillow, you take a deep breath – and grin.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction

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nevernonline · 21 days

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✧.* heartbreak girl; csc one shot.

synopsis: Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.

paring: seungcheol x fem! reader.

genre:friends2lovers

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.

word count: 8.6k

content: . non-idol idolings, big brother Joshua. asshole boyfriends yk. Cheol is painfully in love.

note: non edited prob weird typos, xo.

Seungcheol stood outside the bustling café, the familiar sound of laughter and chatter spilling through the door like an intoxicating aroma. He had been meaning to meet his friends here for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Instead, it felt heavy, aching at the thought of her—Y/n, his best friend and the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

They had grown up together, their lives intertwined like the branches of the old oak tree that sat as the bridge between their childhood bedrooms. Seungcheol had always been protective of y/n, watching from the sidelines as she navigated the ups and downs of her life. But just recently, something had shifted between them, a current of unspoken words and emotions that neither dared to acknowledge.

He pushed open the door and made his way through the crowd, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. Y/n sat at a corner table, her hair cascading over her shoulders, lost in conversation with another friend. But Seungcheol could see it in her eyes—the flicker of worry, the slight downturn of her lips. He knew her better than anyone, and lately, she had seemed off.

His heart raced as he approached the table, steeling himself for the inevitable conversation. “Hey, Soojin, Y/n.” he greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“Seungcheol! You made it!” Y/n exclaimed, the warmth of her voice wrapping around him like a comfort blanket. But as her expression shifted to one of concern, he could see the cracks behind her cheerful facade.

“You okay?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his own voice.

“Yeah, just... a lot going on,” she said, brushing it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Seungcheol glanced at her friend, who seemed to sense the underlying tension and quickly excused herself. The moment of solitude felt charged, and Seungcheol knew they needed to talk.

“Listen, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he urged, leaning forward. “I’m your friend, Bunny. I want to help.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just... Alex, dating has been, and it’s... complicated. I think he might be seeing someone else.”

Seungcheol remembered when Y/n first started dating her current partner, he was alright, nothing special compared to the girl who was standing in front of him.

past

When he first met y/n boyfriend she had just gotten back from college for the weekend as Seungcheol stepped onto her front lawn waiting inside patiently next to y/n’s brother Joshua, he was considering running down the sidewalk to her when a guy appeared out of the front seat to hug her mother. It was in a flash of a moment he knew this guy was her boyfriend.

Seungcheol's heart sank, but he tried impossible hard to maintain a composed exterior. He forced a smile and greeted y/n with a wave as she approached, her boyfriend trailing beside her. Joshua nudged Seungcheol gently, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Hey, Seungcheol!" y/n called out, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Bunny," Seungcheol replied, his voice steady. "How is school, my little scholar?"

"It’s been great, but I’ve missed home, especially your mom’s cooking," she said, glancing at her boyfriend. "Oh, Shit. I should introduce you! This is Alex."

Alex extended a hand towards Seungcheol. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Nice to meet you too," Seungcheol said, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed how Alex's grip was strong but not overbearing, a sign of confidence and respect.

The four of them stood there for a moment, the air filled with unspoken words. Joshua, sensing the tension, quickly suggested, "Why don't we all head inside? Mom made us some lemonade. Feel free to spike it yourself."

Of course they all agreed, and as they walked towards the house, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. She seemed happy, and that was what mattered most to him, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly squeezed lemon, probably just a room spray her mom thought would make her lemonade pop more, which helped make Cheol smile even more. y/n's mother greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with joy at having her two kids home. The group settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere gradually easing into one of laughter and shared stories.

Seungcheol listened intently, contributing when he could, but mostly observing the dynamics between y/n and Alex. He noticed the small gestures of affection, the way they seemed to understand each other with just a glance. It was clear they shared a deep connection.

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol felt a mix of emotions. There was an undeniable pang of that little green monster creeping in, but also a sense of acceptance. He realized that y/n's happiness was the most important thing, and if Alex was the one who brought that to her, then he would do his best to support her wholeheartedly.

Later, after many sneaks to Joshua’s hidden liquor, too many slices of pizza, and card games, they all stood on the porch saying their goodbyes, y/n gave Seungcheol a tight hug. "It really is good to see you, Seungcheol. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," he promised, his voice sincere. "Take care of yourself, y/n."

“You know I always do,” she gripped onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and flashed her award winning smile his way, “And if I find myself in need of a body guard I’ll be sure to call you.”

With one last wave, Seungcheol watched as she and Alex walked down the driveway, hand in hand. He sighed softly, turning to Joshua who gave him a sympathetic look.

"Come on," Joshua said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get a beer, bro. My treat."

Seungcheol nodded, grateful for Joshua's friendship. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Life had a way of surprising you, and he knew that his story was far from over.

A few months had passed now and finally the sun was shining brightly as their friend group gathered around the picnic table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Plates of food were being passed around, and the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the garden. Which sure, sounded a little gross, but it was just another sign of the changing of seasons, but not the changing of where his heart was gravitating. Y/N was in her element, flitting from one group to another, her energy infectious.

Seungcheol watched her from a distance, like he usually would, holding a fond smile on his lips. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she brought people together, how her presence seemed to light up even the most simple of places.

"Hey, earth to Idiot!" Y/N's voice broke through his daydream. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?"

He grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I knew you’d never disappoint me!" she exclaimed, her smile widening. "It's going to be the best one yet, I can feel it. Something about the smell of the rain this year tells my heart the flowers will be perfect.”

Seungcheol chuckled, captivated by her excitement. "You and your weird as fuck sixth sense about flowers," he teased gently.

She punched him playfully. "Hey, don't underestimate my flower intuition. It's never wrong. It’s like how you always can for some reason tell how many people got a draft beer before you based on some fucked up freshness level you created. I mean we could always take a bet and see who everyone thinks is more insane.”

As the evening wore on, they continued to chat and laugh, the anticipation for their trip growing with each passing moment. The backyard was now filled with the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. And Seuncheol was still sitting with Y/n listening to her talk on and on about her new weird interests.

"Remember the first time we went on this trip?" Y/N asked, her gaze distant as she reminisced. "We got lost for hours, and you were so convinced that we were going to get mauled by a bear or a cougar or something?”

“We didn’t have gas or cell service. I feel like it was a fair assumption to make.” Seungcheol smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed remembering how he embarrassed himself around her even though he’s sure there were worse incidents.

“But, we were at a reststop.”

“But it was pouring rain, y/n. Come on.”

“Fine, I’ll let you have it,” she ruffled her pretty hands through his hair “I still think you’re silly.”

“You’re always so mean to me, when I do everything for you.”

“It’s just so easy.”

“By the way,” Seungcheol rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, “Where’s Alex this weekend?”

“Uh,” Y/n gave him a soft smile that he wasn’t so convinced was real, “With his parents in Antigua I think? Not sure, some weird beach vacation. Sounds boring.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tension in Y/n's tone. “Antigua, huh? Must be nice,” he replied, his voice deliberately casual, though he couldn't help the hint of envy creeping in.

Y/n shrugged, her smile flickering momentarily. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’d much rather be here, hanging out with you guys. This is way more fun. And don’t tell Josh, but I miss seeing him every day.”

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “I mean, it’s a tropical paradise, and you’d choose me and your brother over that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze meeting him with sincerity. “Why would I want to be stuck on a beach when I could be here, laughing and just… being ourselves? This is way more my style.”

Her words warmed him, but a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “So, no Alex for the weekend, then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Y/n bit her lip, a flicker of thought crossing her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s a bit of both? It’s nice to have some time to myself. But… you know how it is.” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away as if contemplating something deeper.

“Yeah, I do. Relationships can be complicated,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the opportunity. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Thanks, Seungcheol. That means a lot.”

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol found himself lost in conversations with old friends and making new ones. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a perfect reflection of Y/N's spirit.

Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves talking through their open childhood bedroom windows.

"Thanks for always being there, Seungcheol," Y/N said softly, her gaze fixed on picking at her nails..

He watched her, his heart swelling with affection. "Always, Y/N. That's what friends are for."

She leaned her head on her hand, and they stared at each other, both hoping that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

At that moment, Seungcheol realized that sometimes, the most beautiful places were the ones you were at with the people you cared about the most.

As Seungcheol sat in his dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the y/n’s Scooby-Doo night light shone in his window, transporting him back to the warmth of Y/n’s presence. He could picture her room perfectly: the walls adorned with posters of their favorite shows, remnants of their laughter still hanging in the air. It had always been a haven for her—a place where her dreams intertwined and her deepest secrets were shared.

Years passed quickly, and that cherished tradition of celebrating their friendship had drifted away like fall leaves caught in a breeze. Life took them in separate directions, and despite the countless apologies Y/n sent his way, Seungcheol could never quite shake the feeling of loss. He always believed that she knew how much those moments meant to him; her absence felt like a missing piece of his heart that was waiting to be filled.

While he tried to move on, dating a variety of girls who were kind and entertaining, none of them were Y/n. He often found himself comparing their laughter to hers, their quirks to the little things he cherished about her. It felt like an act of treason against the relationships he pursued, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the old feelings from creeping back into his heart.

As he reflected on it all, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn't he just let go? It was foolish to cling to a childhood crush on your best friend's little sister that seemed to grow more distant by the day. But deep down, he sensed that what he felt for Y/n was something more profound than a simple infatuation. She was his first crush, someone he confided in, and the keeper of so many memories that covered his soul with nostalgia and warmth.

It was during one of those restless nights, when the weight of her absence pressed heavily on his chest, that he made a decision. Seungcheol had to reach out to Y/n. No more waiting for the right moment or hoping for a chance meeting. He needed to tell her how he felt, how much he still cared, and how he longed for the connection they once shared.

Building up his courage the moment turned into an eternity as he waited, and just as doubt began to creep in, his phone buzzed, it was her calling him as if he had manifested catching up with her.

Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw Y/n's name flash across the screen. Just the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through him, he pushed it down and tried to take it as a reminder of all the times they had spent together, laughing until their sides hurt or sharing secrets late into the night, almost like excitement. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the accept button, uncertainty warring with excitement.

But before he could overthink it any longer, he pressed "accept" and set his phone to the speaker. “Y/n?”

“Cheol!” Her voice was bright, and it ignited something deep within him—an undeniable longing. “I can’t believe I finally caught you. I’ve missed you so much, sorry for the phone tag, I have been so fucking busy.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. “It’s been way too long. I was just thinking about texting you when you called.”

“I feel bad for not making it home to see you lately,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her tone. “But.. uh, I’d love to fix that. How about we get together this weekend, like we used to? Maybe invite Soojin? Joshua?”

“Let’s do it.” A smile spread across his face. “We can go to that bar we used to sneak into and catch a show legally now?”

“Sounds perfect. Do me a favor?” she said, genuine enthusiasm shining through her words.

“Yes?” he waiting on the other end of the line hearing her giggling slightly to herself.

“Wear that old Sonic Youth t-shirt you have?”

“Why would I wear that?”

“Not sure. I just like that t-shirt. Please?”

Seungcheol’s heart swelled at the thought of being with her again, but he also felt the weight of unresolved feelings pressing on him. They’d both changed, but would the bond they shared still resonate the same way? Would she see him as just her brother’s friend or as something more?

As they continued to chat, Seungcheol tried to gauge her tone, the way she spoke about her life, the little nuances that indicated where she stood. Y/n spoke about college, her friends, and of course Alex.Her enthusiasm was infectious. But every laugh pulled him further back into the past, to the innocent moments when everything had felt so uncomplicated.

“Hey, Y/n,” he ventured, his heart beating a little faster as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask… How are you handling everything? I know things have changed for both of us.”

Y/n paused, and he could almost hear her brain processing the question. “Honestly? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. I’m still figuring things out, but having people around who care makes it easier.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, wishing he could just lay bare his feelings, let his heart spill out the way they used to share their secrets. “You know, I’ve always been here if you need someone to talk to.”

Her voice softened, and he could sense the shift in the conversation. “I know, and I appreciate that, Cheol. You’ve always been there for me, just like… well, I cant think of something always there for something else, but you get it..”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm again, but as the call slowly wound down, Seungcheol felt a flicker of resolve.

As they said their goodbyes, he heard Y/n’s voice resonate with warmth, and for a moment, the distance between them felt almost non-existent. “See you this weekend, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the endless possibilities that lay ahead.

Closing his phone, he let out a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. The connection he had yearned for was just around the corner, and as he lay back on his bed, he knew that this time, he wouldn’t hold back.

present:

His heart sank at the words, a wave of frustration washing over him. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t let anyone treat you like you’re not worth it. How do you know he’s cheating on you?

Y/n took a shaky breath, the anguish evident in her expression. “I’ve seen the signs—the late nights, the changing passwords, the way he ducks away when I try to talk about us.” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I just feel it deep inside, like this gnawing instinct that something isn’t right.”

Seungcheol felt his protectiveness swell within him. The thought of anyone treating her poorly made his blood boil. “Those signs aren’t just coincidence, Y/n. People shouldn’t make you second-guess yourself like that.”

She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her jeans. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I try to brush it aside, the more it eats away at me. I just wish I had the strength to confront him.”

“You do have that strength,” he urged, leaning closer, wanting to make eye contact to convey just how serious he was. “You’re stronger than you think. No one should keep you in the dark or make you feel like you have to doubt yourself. But if you need my help or anyone elses you know you can ask us right? You don’t have to fight it alone. Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately?”

“Yeah and I’m sorry I’m embarrassed. But what if I’m wrong? What if I confront him and it turns out I’m just being paranoid?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away in frustration, the vulnerability on display pulling sharply at Seungcheol’s heart.

“Y/n, you’re not paranoid; you’re being cautious. People should earn your trust, not break it. If he really cared about you, he’d be open and honest, not leave you guessing.” Seungcheol felt a surge of emotion, desperately wanting to help her see the truth. “You have every right to bring up your concerns. If he reacts poorly, that’s a huge huge fucking red flag.”

She nodded slowly, another tear escaping despite her efforts to contain them. “I just don’t want to lose more than what I already feel like I’ve lost.. I just don’t know what to do, I guess. I’m sorry I’m ruining our fun.”

At that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but reach out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers so she would look up at him. “You are never ruining our fun, by telling us how you feel. Remember, you’re the one who deserves to be valued, not just by him, but by everyone in your life, especially those who say they love you.”

Their eyes locked, and he felt a change in the air around them—a connection that transcended the conversation that was sinking like a stone. “You deserve love that lifts you up, that makes you feel secure. Not a relationship that makes you doubt your worth and changes your life poorly.”

“Cheol…” she started, but he could see the struggle in her eyes, the facade of strength crumbling as the truth sunk in. She was scared, scared of the possibilities, but perhaps also scared of how much this all mattered to her.

“I’ll be right here with you, no matter what happens,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him. “We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face any of it alone.”

Y/n's expression softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. “Thank you. It just helps to know someone cares I guess.”

Seungcheol nodded, yearning to break through the last barriers between them. “I’ve always cared for you, Y/n. Always. And I’ll keep caring, no matter what.” Even as those words left his mouth, he felt a weight in his chest—he wanted her to see just how much more she meant to him than mere friendship, but the time for that would come later. Right now, she needed a friend in her corner, and he would be that friend, no matter what. “Should we have a drink now?”

She smiled at him again, giving him a side hug. “Yes, maybe some shots too?”

Seungcheol immediately got to his feet and winked as he bee-lined for the bar standing next to Joshua and Soojin, filling them in on his conversation with y/n. The three of them didn’t mention it the rest of the night, but just made sure to give her the best time dancing and forgetting about her shitty relationship issues before the alcohol settled in her system too much and Cheol had to carry her home.

Joshua unlocked their front door and slid into the house quietly rushing in the three other party goers in hopes not to wake his mom up considering it was a work night.

Y/n brother pulled her shoes off and rested them at the front door, basically begging Seungcheol to carry her up to her bedroom so he could go get Soojin some pajamas and change his sheets for her in his room which Cheol obliged being the most sober.

As he was carrying his friend to bed she looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know I’m drunk, but I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. I just... feel so lost.”

Seungcheol felt a pang of concern as he adjusted his grip on her, his heart aching at the vulnerability etched across Y/n's face. He knew the night had been a whirlwind—filled with laughter, dancing, and fleeting moments of joy—but now, as he carried her up the stairs, her honesty pierced through the haze of alcohol.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. You’ve been through a lot. But just remember, you have lots of people riding for you.

Y/n blinked slowly, her features wavering as she processed his words. “I don’t want to burden you,” she admitted, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to be sad because of me.

Seungcheol paused just outside her bedroom door, carefully shifting her weight so she wasn't too uncomfortable. “You’re not a burden, Y/n. Friends support each other. That’s what we do.”

Her lips trembled slightly, and she looked down, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just... I wish I could see things clearly. I want to believe it’ll get better, but I’m scared it won’t.”

He took a deep breath, choosing his buzzed words carefully. “It’s natural to feel scared. Change is intimidating, especially when it comes to relationships that have been so significant in your life. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start taking the steps to find what you really deserve. Like we talked about earlier. You’re worth that big true love, Y/n, even if you can’t see it just yet.”

Looking into her eyes, he noticed the flicker of hope battling against the weight of her sorrow. “You deserve to feel loved, celebrated and so fucking cherished, not just tolerated. And trust me,” he added, trying to inject a touch of warmth into his words, “the right person will come along, maybe they already have. You’re incredible.”

Y/n’s gaze held onto his, searching for truth in his words. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, loser,” he affirmed, nodding. “I’ve been singing your praises for years, remember I did write a letter to Harry Styles trying to get him to go out with you when he was still on X-Factor so until that person comes along, I’m right here.” He started moving again, gently pushing the door open with his knee.

As he stepped inside, he carefully laid her onto the bed, her comfort a priority in the quiet space. “Just rest for now. Tomorrow is a new day. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. Just let it go.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening as the corners of her mouth edged toward a small smile. “Thanks, CheolieI don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he assured her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’re stuck with me now.” He grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wash over them, dispelling some of the heavy emotions lingering in the air.

She laughed softly, a sound that melted some of the tension from his chest. “Okay, but just for tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll have to start figuring things out. And can you do me one more incredibly annoying awkward favor that we never have to speak of again?”

“Deal,” he replied playfully. “Depending on how embarrassing it is?”

“Can you help me put on my pajamas? Or at least unbutton my shirt for me, I’m so warm and too drunk to care right now.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked his shock with a teasing grin. “Wow, is y/n too drunk to get undressed herself, it’s bringing me back to when you had your senior party.”

Y/n shrugged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the sudden vulnerability of the moment. “I’m serious! I can’t get the buttons right now,” she grumbled, a laugh escaping her lips as she realized just how ridiculous the request was.

“Shut up, it’s fine.” he said, trying to maintain the playful spirit of the moment while also respecting her boundaries. “But you have to promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“How could anyone regret that the night star football player and homecoming king four years running Choi Seungcheol took their clothes off?” she replied with a slight smirk. “Can we actually stop fucking around though and focus on getting me comfy so I can pass out without feeling like I’m wearing a fucking straightjacket.”

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me,” he smirked back, trying to suppress his nervousness. Carefully, he shifted to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, ensuring he kept the atmosphere light and respectful. “I’ll work my special magic.”

He helped her sit up and, taking a deep breath, gently began unbuttoning her shirt. With each button he opened, he focused on keeping his movements steady and casual,trying not to touch inappropriately whatsoever, stealing glances at her face rather than her torso. “See, I’m not so bad at this, right? Even being out of practice.” he joked, trying to ease any tension in the air.

Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter lightening the mood. “Yeah, you’re doing great. Just stop making it weird.”

“Me? Make it weird? Psh.” he teased back, his heart racing slightly as he continued, relieved that her demeanor was playful. As the last button came undone, he carefully helped her shrug the shirt off, revealing a soft bra top underneath.

“You literally just confessed to not getting laid in a long time, weirdo. Too much information.”

“God, shut up, I did not” he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the shirt aside. “Mission accomplished.. But it’s a good look, just so you know.”

“You’re just buttering me up to make me forget this moment, Cheol,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes despite her slightly vulnerable state.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! This moment is going straight into the archives as ‘That Time I Helped Y/n Get Ready for Bed,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

Y/n giggled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.

Seungcheol felt warmth radiate in his chest at her words. “And you’re worse,” he said genuinely, his smile softening. “Now get some rest, cutie. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything else.”

“You can stay here if you want? Joshua is sleeping on the couch because Soojin’s in his room.”

“Oh, uh. I’ll be alright on the floor downstairs. You get some sleep okay?”

“Goodnight, Cheolie,” she whispered, nearly missing him calling her an affectionate name, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of sleep began to envelop her.

“Goodnight, Bunny.” He watched her peaceful expression for a moment, then stood up from the edge of her bed and made his way to the door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt pride in being there for her, but a flicker of longing stirred inside him, reminding him of how much he truly fell in love with her.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he leaned against the wall, contemplating going back in there and comforting her for the night but also how it could affect their friendship and the feelings that lingered just below the surface. Tonight wasn't just another night; it felt like a turning point. Seungcheol had no idea where it would ultimately lead, but for now, he was grateful to be her anchor, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The next morning rolled in like a thunder cloud for y/n, she remembered walking home, but not much after that. She sat up under her pink fuzzy blanket in nothing other than her bra and skirt she had on the night before, her hair smooshed up on the back of her head like a pancake.

She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there but whoever took her upstairs left a glass of water on the nightstand and two tylenol. She smiled, grateful people have always looked out for her like this. Downing the two white pills and the entire glass of water she shot up and headed for the bathroom, walking in non- chalantly thinking nobody was behind the white door. As she turned the knob a voice came ringing in her ears.

“Josh I told you- Oh,” Seungcheol was shirtless with nothing but his wet hair cascading down his face and his towel wrapped around his body parts.” Y/n sorry.. I was just uh.. Finished.”

She slapped her hands over her eyes whispering a sorry and running back into her room, feeling a blush hit her cheeks.

Y/n's heart raced as she slammed the bathroom door shut and ran down the hall slamming her bedroom door shut her back against it, her mind swirling with embarrassment. She could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she replayed the scene in her head. How had she not realized Seungcheol was right there?

After taking a moment to collect herself, she peeked out through her fingers, her heart still pounding. “No, no, no. Why did I have to walk in like that?” she muttered under her breath, doing her best to calm the embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She could still picture Seungcheol’s surprised expression,

With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take it easy. “You’re both adults.And your friends like it, it's fine. Mistakes happen,” she whispered, trying to rationalize the embarrassment.

Y/n slowly shuffled back to her bed and flopped down face-first into her pillow, groaning. “Why is this my life?” she lamented silently, wanting to sink into the depths of her blankets and hide from the world altogether.

After a couple of minutes spent wallowing in her own pity, she finally sat up and took stock of the situation. She had to laugh at herself; if anyone could handle a little awkwardness, it was definitely Seungcheol.

With newfound resolve, she decided to brush off the incident. After all, she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room forever, and eventually, she would have to interact with him.

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, her body still feeling a bit wobbly from the residual effects of last night. She padded over to her wardrobe and found a comfy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. Just as she was finishing zipping up the sweatshirt, her door creaked open, and she heard Seungcheol’s voice.

“Uh... hey, Y/n?”

She froze, heart racing at the thought of confronting him after their embarrassing encounter. “Y-yeah?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I heard you might have had a bit too much fun last night,” he said, his tone laced with gentle teasing but lacking the usual bravado.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm again, but she twisted the moment into playful sarcasm. “Yeah, I clearly have my life together. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a bathroom with a half-naked guy?”

His laughter echoed, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a guest, either.”

“So, uh, thanks for... you know, taking care of me last night.”

“Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll help you with whatever.”

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Yeah, but still! I really appreciate it.”

Seungcheol’s smile faded slightly, replaced with an earnest expression as he leaned against the doorframe. “Y/n,It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years, I don’t mind.”

She bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach at the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity behind it. “For real, Cheol. Thanks. I mean it. Just accept the sincerity.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, breaking the moment by giving her a grin, “Want to get some breakfast or something? I’ll whip us up something..”

“That sounds great,” she agreed, “But, I actually have something I need to go do today. How about I see you later? A movie or something maybe?”

“Yeah, you know where to find me.”

“Of course.”

If today was going to be the most awkward day of her life, fine. She could handle it. Now arming herself with coffee, she had the feeling it was going to turn out just fine.What started with a flustered memory could lead to deeper conversations, and maybe even something more. First she had to confront Alex about his infidelity and then she can go back to these thoughts. Still, she giggled to herself as she thought about it—this was definitely going to be a morning they’d both remember.

Y/n parked her car in front of Alex’s apartment complex, her whole drive here she made up fake conversations to have with him in her head some of her intrusive thoughts started to get to her as she imagined much more crazy ways of how to confront him, but she knew she’d cry. She knew how hard it would be for her no matter what his answer was, yes or no, but she had to do it.

Somehow she knew either way that she may be grateful it gave her the courage to break up with him in general.

Getting out of the car, Y/n felt a mix of determination and fear. The weight of unresolved emotions pressed down on her chest as her shoes tapped against the pavement. She took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to steal a bit of calm before walking through the threshold that would dictate the direction of her life. She climbed the few steps to Alex’s building and pressed the intercom buzzer.

After a few moments, a crackling voice came through. “Who is it?”

“It’s Y/n,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Y/n? Oh, hey babe.! Come on up!” The excitement in his tone gave her a strange mix of hope and dread. Would he be as cheerful when they talked about the mess that had unfolded?

When she reached his door, she hesitated, heart racing. Did she really want to do this? But even as the question surfaced, she felt the guilt gnawing at her. She owed it to herself.

Gathering her courage, she knocked. After a moment, the door swung open, and Alex stood there, looking casually handsome in a simple tee and jeans, a wide smile on his face. “Hey baby, It’s so good to see you. I thought you were hanging with your brother this weekend?”

“Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile, even as her stomach churned. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through. As she entered, a rush of familiarity enveloped her—his scent, the slight clutter that was reminiscent of their time together. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it ignited a sense of dread.

She followed him into the living room, where the remnants of his gaming session littered the floor. The sight pulled at her heartstrings—how many times had they shared moments in this space? But those memories felt crushed by the deceit that loomed over them now.

“Wanna drink something? I just made coffee.” he offered, heading toward the kitchen.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Y/n tucked her hair into the back of her sweatshirt, feeling uncharacteristically fidgety. “Alex, I really just need to talk.”

“What’s on your mind?” He settled onto the couch, beaming with an eagerness that pitted her stomach against her better instincts.

She took a breath, the words sticking in her throat. “I... um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?” His expression shifted to curiosity, and she suspected he had no inkling of the storm about to descend.

“About us, about everything that’s happened,” she started, trying to gauge his reaction. His smile faltered just a bit, and her heart sank. “I found out about the other girl.”

His demeanor changed instantly. The confident glimmer in his eyes vanished, replaced by confusion. “Y/n, I—”

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than she anticipated. She crossed her arms, drawing strength from her resolve. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just need to know if you even care at all about what this does to our relationship.”

“I do care! I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked defensive, yet Y/n couldn't muster sympathy at this moment.

“Didn’t mean for what to happen? To hurt me? To also keep her a secret?” Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened as emotions swelled within. “How many times did you lie to me? How can I trust anything you say now?”

“Y/n, please. It was a mistake. I never wanted to hurt you,” he pleaded, his expression shifting from confusion to desperation.

“And yet, here we are!” she raised her voice,, feeling the anger rise, mixed with a sorrow that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know if you understand how this makes me feel. I didn’t deserve to be anything less than faithful.”

“Oh and your brothers friend is jus-”

“Shut up for one goddamn second.”

Alex opened his mouth in surprise, as if he was about to argue, but Y/n pressed on, the truth spilling out. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we could make it work, that you’d change. But the more I think about it, the more I realize—it’s not just a mistake. It’s a choice you made. You don’t actually love me enough to just be with me.”

“Y/n...” he started, but she cut him off again, her gaze unwavering.

“It made me realize I deserve better than what you’ve given me. I need to take care of myself.”

An overwhelming silence consumed the room. Alex’s face hardened as he processed her words, the reality of what was happening sinking in.

“I just... I thought we had something special,” he muttered, hurt flickering in his eyes.

“We did,” she whispered, a pang of regret cutting through her. “But that’s the thing, Alex. You fucking ruined it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “We have to break up.”

“Y/n, wait. I can change. I swear! Just give me another chance! I’ll do better!” His plea hung in the air, desperately.

But she knew better now. “I don’t think I can forgive you for this. And I don’t think I want to try. I need to move on and find myself again.”

She turned to leave, heart racing in her chest. As she reached for the doorknob, Alex’s voice caught her once more. “I wish you’d let me explain...”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing left to say, Alex.”

With a shaky breath, she stepped outside, the cool air hitting her like a wave of clarity. Y/n stood for a moment on the threshold, allowing herself to breathe freely for the first time in weeks.

As she walked down the stairs and toward her car, the weight of the conversation pressed upon her, but in a different way. It was a weight lifted.

She took out her phone and texted Seungcheol. “IT'S OVER, lol. Can we still do that movie later? I could really use a friend.”

Seconds later, her phone buzzed with his response. “What’s over? Did you break up with that fucker? Thank god. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

A smile broke through her earlier sorrow, and she felt the corners of her heart begin to heal just a little. She hadn’t expected this day to lead her in a new direction, but she was ready for whatever came next. One awkward day down, and the next chapter was waiting.

On her drive back y/n knew she shouldn’t be thinking about jumping into her relationship with Seuncheol now, but she also knew she wasted so much time with other jerks never giving him a chance, but it’s what she wanted she just had to figure out how to make it happen.

She pulled into Seuncheol’s driveway, bag of snacks in hand. Shutting her car door with her backside, nearly skipping up to his front door where he stood waiting for her with open arms dressed in his pajamas.

The sight of him, all cozy and relaxed, made her heart flutter. Seuncheol's smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but return it as she stepped into his warm embrace. The delicious scent of something cooking wafted through the door behind him, complementing the warmth and comfort he radiated.

“Well, well, well, Miss. Bad Bitch,” he exclaimed, pulling away and taking her bag of snacks. “I hope you brought my favorites.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, her heart dancing at how effortlessly they fell into this easy banter. “How could I come empty-handed to thank my therapist?”

Seuncheol chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good point. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Together they sorted through the assortment of chips, candies, and cookies, playfully debating over which treats deserved a spot on their makeshift movie night platter. As they settled onto the couch, their bodies nearly touching, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The earlier unease faded, replaced by a sense of belonging as she sank deeper next to him resting her head on his shoulder swinging around a piece of licorice.

“Alright, so what are we watching?” he asked, remote in hand.

She bit her lip thoughtfully, her heart racing at the idea of sharing this moment with him. “How about something fun? A rom-com?”

“Only if you promise to laugh at all the cheesy parts,” he teased, nudging her playfully.

“How about a bet that whoever cries has to jump in your pool… naked,” she shot back with a smile, feeling a thrill in their playful exchange. The movie began, their laughter filling the space as they munched on snacks, but she felt the real chemistry sparking between them, the edges of her heart warming with every shared glance and gentle touch.

As the story unfolded on the screen, she caught herself stealing glances at him, his focus entirely on the film yet his presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Somewhere between the jokes and the popcorn fights, the realization struck—this was the moment she had been waiting for, the feeling she had longed to explore.

“Seuncheol,” she said softly, causing him to look over, pausing the movie.

“Yeah?”

“Are you crying?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow. I win!”

Seungcheol punched the air, getting up faster than he ever has, stripping off his hoodie and running out the patio door, y/n chasing behind him, knocking over the entire bowl of popcorn on her way out.

As she turned the corner to go towards his pool he snatched her up, jumping in with her in his arms.

The splash echoed through the night as the cool water enveloped them both. Seungcheol erupted in laughter, the sound bright and full of joy, while Y/N squealed in surprise, her heart racing from the sudden plunge.

As they surfaced, water cascading off their faces, Y/N couldn't help but scold him playfully, “What the Fuck. You could have warned me!” Her hair clung to her face, and she was momentarily blinded, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed any annoyance.

Seungcheol flashed her a cheeky grin, droplets sparkling on his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes mischievous, reflecting the moonlight.

Y/N glared, though her heart was still light. “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed, splashing water back at him, her instincts taking over as they devolved into a playful water fight. He countered with playful throws of water, their laughter mingling in the cool night air—full of energy, warmth, and the promise of summer.

He was talking her through the water, pinning her against his bare chest, they both paused, breathless and giggling their legs brushing against each other as she caught her breath. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she said softly, her voice playful yet carrying an underlying affection.

Seungcheol tilted his head, his smile softening. “Maybe. But this is way more fun than sitting inside watching movies.” He reached for her hair, swiping it out of her face, and for a moment, the world faded around them, he took a deep breath and kissed her, rummaging his hands under her sweatshirt which she reciprocated back, tugging at his waist band, dipping her cold fingers underneath to graze him slightly in an area they’ve never explored.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” she confessed, the words tumbling out between their passionate kisses she couldn’t second-guess them. “I know this is sudden.. But, I.. uh.” she left a small whispering moan out of her lips,

Kissing her deeply again smiling into it he just whispered, “But?” and then moved his lips to her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. “But I want to give us a chance. I want to see where this could go. I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.”

A huge smile broke over his face, as he pulled away for just a moment, as if her words were a key that unlocked something deep within him. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her nerves calming under the intensity of his stare. “I do. I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

His eyes widened with surprise “You… you’ve loved me?” The words slipped from his lips, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice steady yet soft, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a fragile thread. “I never thought we’d get to this point, but here we are.”

He leaned in closer again, his forehead resting against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. “I never wanted to rush you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. It’s like… you’ve always been the only person I’ve ever wanted.”

Her heart swelled at his words, a sense of relief enveloping her like a warm blanket. “So what now?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with sincerity.

“Now? We figure it out together.” His voice was low and confident, reassurance flooding her senses. He kissed her forehead gently before pulling back slightly, his hands still locking around her waist. “I want to take our time, get to know each other in this way. There’s no rush.”

“Okay,” she murmured, the smile returning to her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his patient approach, how refreshing it felt to not be hurried into something that had the potential to change everything.

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Just know that I’m all in.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

“And now that you have, what do you want to do first?” he asked, a twinkle of mischief sparking in his eyes.

She grinned, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her. “How about we start with dinner? A proper date, just the two of us, to celebrate this… us. Build up even more sexual tension between us just to make it fun”

“Dinner it is,” he said, already beaming. “And knowing you a bet to who would break first.”

“My bets on you, Cheol. You’re a man.”

“Sure, Bunny. But you did already have your hands down my pants, I’m thinking you’re already a failure. But, I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Well I’ll try to control myself,” she replied, feeling a thrill of possibility unfolding before them. With newfound hope in her heart, she knew this was only the beginning.

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kyra-cooneyx · 3 months

Text

antisocial — a.putellas x reader

summary: your social battery runs out during a team bonding night

we back baby

after a long media day, you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in alexia’s arms once you got home. but just as you prepared yourself to face plant the sofa, the spaniard caught you effortlessly and the whine you let out was pitiful.

“lo siento amor but we have team bonding.” alexia whispered, laughing quietly when your body grew limp.

“do we really?”

“si,” alexia said, running her hand through your hair as you groaned. “it is not the end of the world you know?”

“sure feels like it.” you mumbled, forcing yourself out of her arms and into your bedroom to change into something comfier that just so happened to belong to your girlfriend.

you didn’t look any happier when you returned and alexia found the slight jut of your lip adorable. “a few hours cariño then we will leave.”

you relaxed a little at her words. you could survive a few hours. the drive to mapi and ingrid’s place seemed to take forever and you had a feeling that that was going to be the precedent for how the rest of the night was going to go. the moment ingrid swung open the front door, you winced at the noise. alexia gently tugged you in upon sensing your hesitation.

your feet dragged behind you and it was clear to alexia that your body was reacting to each little stimuli with the way it tensed and relaxed interchangeably.

when alexia made her way over to where mapi and frido sat with marta and caro, you forced yourself to head over to esmee, bruna, and jana.

you weren’t sure how they’d managed to convince ingrid to let them open up a mini nail salon in her living room but the question fell dry on your lips when esmee gently took your hands in hers.

“i think you should have this one.” jana said, handing esmee a powder blue coloured nail varnish and your face flushed when you realised that the dutch girl had asked you a question.

“uh yeah, that’s pretty, thanks jana.” you nodded slightly, offering both girls a smile.

alexia watched with a smile of her own as your shoulders sagged and you laughed softly at something jana had said. her shoulders relaxed too when you eased your way into whatever debate keira and lucy were having, something about the last england camp and whether keira had spent a little too much time with leah and not enough with georgia.

it was clear to your girlfriend that whatever negative feelings you had earlier had fizzled out and thankfully, you were starting to enjoy yourself. and your face lit up when mapi turned on the xbox, ona handing you a controller.

after a few games of fifa, you were forced to hand it over to frido and grumbled under your breath as you sank back into the sofa.

more of the girls joined in and with every one, you could feel yourself slipping into a more irritable state and you forced yourself to smile and laugh when you felt like you needed to.

alexia eventually found her seat next to you and was taken back at how quickly you moved onto her lap, curling into her.

your hands played with the strings on her hoodie, nose lightly nudging at the column of her throat. and since alexia was expecting this, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small fidget toy, one of the many you left scattered around your house.

you hummed in appreciation, taking it from her. she pressed a kiss to your head, also having both of your phones at hand in case you changed your mind about the toy.

at some point, the repetitive motion and the social exhaustion had you dozing off and when you woke up, ingrid was saying goodbye to the last of the girls. and as you lifted your head, you caught mapi’s eye and she smiled at you. you huffed in response, quickly hiding your face in alexia’s neck.

“gruñona.” mapi teased, digging her fingers into your side.

you squirmed, whining as you pushed her hand away, peeking out to glare at her.

“go wait with ingrid,” alexia whispered and your grip on her hoodie tightened. “i will be two minutes, i promise.”

your body felt heavy as you slowly lifted yourself off your girlfriend and it took everything in you to not fall straight back onto her.

with a soft sigh, you headed towards the front of the apartment where you knew the norwegian was, giving her the smallest of smiles.

“tired?” she asked and you nodded. “i can tell, you look it.”

if anyone else had said it, you would’ve lost your mind. but it was ingrid and you knew she meant no harm. that still didn’t stop you from going back to alexia and throwing your arms around her neck from behind.

“casa ara,” you whispered, whining when you got no response. “ale, please.”

“vale, vale.” alexia rolled her eyes fondly, quickly saying goodbye to mapi and ingrid before practically carrying you to the car.

the ride home seemed a lot quicker than before and the relaxation that flowed through your body once you’d gotten through the front door was magical.

you went straight to the bedroom, falling onto the bed without a care in the world and cuddling into the sheets.

it didn’t take long for alexia to join you but you were long gone by then, murmuring softly in your sleep as the blonde gently moved your body into a more comfortable position. your eyes fluttered open momentarily, a dreamy smile on your lips.

“te quiero mucho.”

#woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

revelations

alexia + león!r's secret relationship comes to light no warnings! enjoy 🫶🏻

-------

“Ale!” You shouted, scrolling frantically through your phone, through photo after photo of you and Alexia at the beach the other day. They all bordered on too friendly, or at least they seemed that way to you. The panic in your tone was clear, and Alexia felt her stomach drop in the bedroom. She’d been putting away some laundry when you’d shouted for her, but she was running towards you without a second thought.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked, sliding in her socks on the hardwood floor slightly as she made it into the living room. You looked okay, physically, although your face was contorted with anxiety and fear.

Wordlessly, you held your phone out towards her. Alexia crossed the room in two long strides, grabbing the phone and beginning to scroll. “Oh.” She said.

And if you had been anxious before, it was nothing compared to how you felt now. Was she upset with you? The beach had been your idea, your terrible, terrible idea. Alexia looked upset, and your thoughts began to spiral further. Did she not want anyone to know about your relationship for more reasons than just being afraid of your sister? Was she really not as into you as you thought and going public would be a mess that wasn’t worth it? Did she really even love you?

“Amor?” Alexia said. You looked up at her, seeing her brows furrowed as she gazed down at you. You realized she had said your name a few times, but you’d been too lost in your own head to notice. “Talk to me.” Her voice was gentle as she took a seat next to you, dropping your phone onto the sofa and taking your hand in hers.

Alexia knew how you could be, and the best thing she could do for you when you got anxious was just listen. Sometimes you could talk yourself down, and other times she’d do it for you, but having her listen without judgment always seemed to help, at least a little bit.

“Are you upset about the photos?” You asked, instead of listing out every insecurity that had just popped into your head. Alexia did not know how deeply unworthy of her you felt, and she never would if you could help it.

Your girlfriend thought for a minute. “Not upset about the photos. I am… upset because you are upset.”

“You aren’t mad that I made us go to the beach?”

“Amor, you did not make us do anything. We just went to the beach. We are allowed to do that. I am upset that you are so anxious, I am not upset with you.”

“People are going to see these, Alexia.”

“I know that. We’ll deal with it, however you want.”

You chewed on your lip for a minute. “And if I wanted to tell people? About us?” You asked, voice small and hesitant. Alexia felt her heart melt as she gently cupped your cheek, tilting your face to look at her.

“Then we’d tell people. If that is what you want, that is what we will do. I understand why we are keeping it to ourselves, but I would also be very happy for everyone to know that you are mine.”

“Really?”

“Really. I just want you to be happy. That is all I want, and all I need. You, with a beautiful smile on your face.” Alexia whispered, leaning in and very softly pressing a kiss to your lips.

You were a puddle of mush on the sofa at this point, tucking your face into Alexia’s neck and taking a few calming breaths. She held you carefully, as she always did incredibly content to sit with you until you felt better. If Mapi killed her when she found out, oh well. At least she’d gotten a whole year with you first.

-------

“Hermanita, I am just saying, I can find you a date. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with anyone.” Mapi was practically shouting, even though the volume in the club wasn’t very loud. She was excited, though, as she always was when she talked about your love life. Your sister was very famous for setting you up with girls, and once you got to know them more, decided they weren’t good enough for you. Which was part of the reason, you and Alexia had yet to tell your sister this was going on.

“No, Mapi.” You said for what felt like the hundredth time, rolling your eyes good naturedly, even as you felt Alexia’s hand grip onto your upper thigh under the table. You peeked at her out of the corner of your eye. Her jaw was set tightly, and you could feel the jealousy coming off her in waves at even the mention of you going on a date with someone else. Mapi was too caught up in listing off people she could set you up with to notice.

Alexia and you were both very tense. Ever since the pictures of you both at the beach had been released, you’d been walking on eggshells around your teammates, wanting to give them nothing that could lead them to believe you were anything more than friends. You’d decided to tell, yes. But you didn’t want people finding out through the pictures, or through walking in on you and Alexia making out in the showers after training. You’d been lucky, so far. No one had brought them up. And so, you hadn’t really thought anyone had taken the leaked pictures seriously. Your teammates definitely hadn’t, but it appeared that some of the fans had. Some of Alexia’s fans, specifically.

This became clear when one of the girls who had been practically glaring at you across the bar all night finally made her approach. Alexia had left your side for just a minute to get you water, always one to push hydration. Your teammates were scattered throughout the bar, and Ingrid and Mapi were only a couple feet away, talking quietly to each other, small smiles on both of their faces.

The girl was by your side very suddenly, almost startling you. She was clearly drunk, but the boldness and anger with which she spoke still shocked you.

“I can’t believe Alexia Putellas would date you. You are not good enough for her. She should be with Jenni, or someone prettier than you. You’re wasting her time.” She slurred, each word feeling like a stab to your already very insecure heart.

You stepped away from her, hearing Pina come to your defense from somewhere next to you, telling the girl to fuck off. Turning around, you almost ran directly into your sister, who had risen along with her girlfriend at the strange girl’s outburst. Her face was contorted with confusion, clearly having heard what the fan had to say. Your reaction spoke volumes, the way your eyes were flooded with tears, and your chest was already beginning to rise and fall rapidly.

It was true, Mapi realized. In the time it took her to come to that conclusion, you were off, sprinting towards the bathroom. They were single bathrooms, thank god, and you made it inside quickly, not bothering to lock the door behind you.

She was right. That girl was right. How could you ever think you were good enough for Alexia. Sweet, beautiful, perfect Alexia. The best person you’d ever known.

It was one of the worst panic attacks you’d had in years, and by the time Mapi slipped in through the bathroom door, you were pretty far gone, only able to hear a faint ringing sound, only able to claw desperately at your chest.

“Hermana, hermana, breathe, you are okay,” Mapi tried, reaching to grab your hand. You only wheezed in response, and Mapi realized you weren’t hearing her. Your sister looked around rather helplessly, her unspoken plea for help being answered almost instantly.

The door opened and in came Ingrid, closely followed by a very frantic Alexia. As soon as the captain spotted you, though, her attention was stolen, no longer thinking about the implications of everyone finding out about your relationship. She was at your side on the filthy floor of the bathroom within a second, carefully grabbing your face in between her hands, and tilting it up towards her.

“I am here, mi amor, I am right here. You have to breathe, cariño, let yourself breathe.”

Alexia, too, realized you weren’t really hearing anything she had to say, so she switched tactics, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in until your head was resting against her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ingrid tugging a resistant Mapi out the door of the bathroom, but Alexia only cared for you in that moment.

“I have you, my beautiful girl. I love you, more than anything. Everything is okay. You are safe.”

You managed to come back into yourself, your girlfriend’s voice in your ear the most comforting thing you’d ever heard. You looked up at her, tugging her as close to you as possible, needing to feel more of her. “Ale” you whimpered, watching her face crumble at the sound of her name.

Alexia hated seeing you like this. “Mi preciosa.” She soothed. “I love you, my girl, I love you so much. You are okay.”

Your insecurities quieted for a moment, in favor of something else flooding your mind. Mapi knew. Mapi knew. That her little sister was dating her best friend. You’d seen it on her face, when you turned around to flee the scene. She’d known.

You’d talked about telling Mapi, yes, but now that she knew… you were terrified. What if she was upset? What if it ruined your relationship with your sister, or her relationship with her best friend? What if she made Alexia break up with you?

Your girlfriend could tell very easily that you were spiraling, barely having calmed down in the first place.

“Hey, come back to me. I’m right here, mi amor. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Alexia whispered, her face so close to yours that all you could really see were her eyes, squinted with worry.

You gripped onto her shirt tightly with both your hands. “Mapi knows,” you told her, ridiculously afraid of her reaction.

Alexia nodded slowly. “Ingrid told me when she came and got me. It’s okay, mi amor. We will deal with it.”

“But what if-”

“No what if’s. Tell the what ifs to go away. Just focus on calming down.” Alexia insisted, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded shakily. “Yeah. Just… stay here?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She promised, tightening her arms around you. “I’m staying right here, with you.”

-------

Alexia got you up once you’d calmed down further, protectively wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and headed for the exit. As soon as you were both out of the bathroom, though, you were met with the sight of your sister pacing very aggressively around the little hallway just outside the door. Her head snapped up when the door opened, and Ingrid had to hold on to the back of her shirt to stop her from lunging at you, and pulling you into a hug.

She squirmed in Ingrid’s grasp, huffing impatiently, all the while staring daggers at you. You searched her gaze for anger, but you only saw worry.

“María,” Alexia began, pulling you in closer to her side. Mapi didn’t appreciate that, Alexia acting like you needed to be protected from her, and her face turned cloudy.

“No. Alexia. No. How long has this been going on?” Mapi asked, her teeth gritted in a sudden flare of anger. You didn’t deserve to be kept a secret, and that’s exactly what Alexia had done to you.

“María, amiga, I understand you have questions, I do, but your sister is really shaken up, and I’d like to take her home. She gets overstimulated after panic attacks, she shouldn’t be in here.”

Mapi floundered for a minute, filled only with concern for you, tucked away against Alexia’s side.

“María, I just want to go home. We can talk tomorrow.” You said, your voice stuttering over your words. You were still anxious, still shaking, and all you wanted was to go home with your girlfriend, where it was quiet and safe and you could be entirely surrounded by Alexia.

Ingrid squeezed your sister’s hand, and Mapi nodded to herself. “Okay, yeah. Okay hermana. I love you. Take care of her, please, Ale.”

“Of course. I love her, María. I’ve got her.”

Mapi watched as Alexia looked down at you, the softest expression she’d ever seen on her captain’s face.

“Home, mi amor?”

“Yes please.” You whispered. “Your apartment.”

“Whatever you want, my girl.” She promised, before leading you in the direction of the exit.

Mapi had never seen either of you like this. So evidently in love. So happy. And she felt stupid for missing it, and even worse that you’d both felt the need to hide it from her. She turned to Ingrid with tears in her eyes, to which her girlfriend sighed softly.

“Come here.” Ingrid whispered, drawing her girlfriend close to her chest.

“Am I a bad sister? A bad friend? Why wouldn’t they tell me?” Mapi mumbled. Ingrid shook her head.

“No, you are a good sister and a good friend. You have an overprotective streak, María, they probably just wanted to give themselves time together before they told you.” Ingrid assured her.

“I don’t like not knowing things.” Mapi complained quietly.

Ingrid chuckled. “I know you don’t, María min. Now you know, though. And you can talk to them about it tomorrow. We can go to Ale’s and have a conversation.”

“Yeah. Oh god. EW.” Mapi said, quickly growing very disgusted.

“What?” Ingrid wondered, pulling back in concern.

Mapi looked nauseous. “They are sleeping at Alexia’s house together.”

“Maybe your sister is sleeping on the couch.” Ingrid suggested helpfully.

Mapi grinned up at her. “I love you.”

-------

Alexia barely let you out of her grasp the whole way to the car, and the whole drive home. She kept your hand held tightly in hers. Somewhere in your head, you knew very well that when you were anxious, it made Alexia anxious, but you didn’t have it in you to say anything that would let her know you were okay. You weren’t okay, and you weren’t even really sure you could speak at all. You were much calmer now, physically, but your mind was still a mess. You were shaking, and you did your best to focus on Alexia’s thumb running soothingly over the back of your hand.

Before you knew it, Alexia’s free hand was lightly stroking your cheek, and you looked over at her to realize you had arrived at her home.

“Hi.” She said softly, her hazel eyes earnestly looking into yours. Alexia really did love to watch out for you, even before you were together. She’d always kept an eye on you, at first because you were her best friends’ sister. Eventually, though, she found herself watching you when she didn't have a reason to. And you’d gaze at her right back.

“Hey.” You replied, giving her the best smile you could manage, although it was sure to be very weak and unconvincing.

“Feeling better?”

You shrugged. “A bit.”

Alexia sighed, seeing through your lie, but she smiled at you anyway, kissing your cheek and getting out of the car. She was around the car in a flash, opening the door and offering you a hand.

Once you were in the house, Alexia instructed you to sit on the couch and wait for her to return. You tried to relax into the couch, tried to get your mind off what the girl in the bar had said to you. You don’t think you were very successful, because Alexia was back in what felt like 3 seconds, though she had her hands full.

“Okay. Water, crackers, your medicine and a sweatshirt. And that fun pokey ring.” She said, dumping everything onto the table in front of you, handing the sweatshirt to you first. It was one of hers, one of your favorites, and you pulled it on quickly, trying to covertly inhale the scent of her all over the fabric. Alexia very dutifully handed you the water next. You smiled at her gratefully, eating a few crackers and taking your anxiety medicine. You turned to her, prepared to tell her what had happened as you knew she was probably dying to know, but she turned back to the table, grabbing the acupressure ring. She gently took your hand, sliping the ring onto your finger, smiling to herself when your skin erupted in goosebumps at the sensation.

“Better now?” She asked, lacing her fingers with yours. You nodded, this time telling the truth. “Can you tell me what happened please?”

You nodded again, this time a bit more hesitantly. You didn’t really want to tell her what the girl had said, but you knew you had no choice. “What did Ingrid tell you?”

“She said someone said something to you about me. And that Mapi heard, and knew we were together.”

You thought for a moment. You were a bit torn on how to feel now. On one hand, Alexia had been so entirely perfect, the whole night. She’d gone out of her way to make you feel safe and help you calm down. Your insecurities really didn’t know any bounds, though, and you were still half convinced that the girl had been right.

“What did she say to you?” Alexia wondered, after it was clear you were having a hard time finding the words.

You took a deep breath, tearing your eyes away from your girlfriends as you responded. “She said that she couldn’t believe you were with me. That you should be with someone better, someone prettier. And that I’m wasting your time.”

Alexia was silent for almost an entire minute, long enough for you to look up at her and try to gauge her reaction. She finally spoke when she made eye contact with you. “And you… you believed her? You think she was right?” She asked.

“Do you?” You countered, trying to sound stronger and more confident in her answer than you felt.

“No.” Alexia said, exasperation clear in her voice. “I do not. You are perfect for me. I do not need anyone else, and I do not want anyone else.”

“Right.” You whispered, blinking hard. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have believed her I just-”

“You do not need to apologize for feeling bad that someone said something horrible to you.” Alexia replied, resting her hand under your chin and tilting it up towards her face when you wouldn’t look at her yourself. “I would never be mad at you for being insecure, mi amor. I understand. It just means I do not tell you enough how much I love you.”

“You tell me so often.” You laughed, and Alexia smiled sadly down at you.

“Well, I need to tell you more.” She reiterated, leaning down to brush her lips to yours. “I love you.” She moved her lips to your cheek. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” She continued, pressing kisses to every inch of your face, repeating the words in between every kiss. When she pulled away, whispering a final I love you against your lips, you were quite sure that you believed her. And that you’d never felt more loved in your life.

-------

“Please come with me.” Mapi begged from the passenger seat.

Ingrid smiled sympathetically. “No, this is something you need to do yourself.”

“My sister gets to have her girlfriend there.” Mapi said grumpily.

“Your sister’s girlfriend is part of the conversation.”

Mapi sighed, turning slightly more serious. “Ingrid, I don’t know what to say.”

“You aren’t the one doing the talking yet, elskling. Hear them out. And then tell them what you think.”

“Right. Okay. I can do this.”

“You can do this.” Ingrid agreed, before unbuckling her girlfriend’s seatbelt for her, as it seemed she wasn’t quite going to take the first step. It was almost entertaining, watching Mapi move like a snail as she grabbed her phone and slowly, slowly, got out of the car.

-------

“They’ve been in the driveway for like 7 minutes.” You noted, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.

She sipped her coffee, smiling slightly as she gazed out the window with you. “Maybe she is picking out the weapon she is going to kill me with.”

“Don’t say that.” you groaned, wacking your girlfriend on the arm.

“I am just kidding, amor. She isn't going to kill me, or you. It’s all going to be fine.”

You didn’t say anything in response. All you could think was that you hoped to god she was right.

------

You’d never seen Mapi so reserved, as she walked through Alexia’s door, and took a seat in the big armchair. You sat on the couch next to Alexia, much farther away than you would have normally sat next to her, but you were trying to ease your sister into this whole thing.

It was awkwardly silent as you all sat looking at each other for a minute, none of you really knowing where to start or what to say.

“How long?” Mapi asked eventually, fixing her gaze on Alexia.

“A year.” You said quietly, the significant amount of time not making you feel any less guilty.

“A year?” Mapi breathed, looking between the two of you incredulously.

“A year last week.” Alexia confirmed. She shifted slightly, sliding her foot across the floor so that her sock squished against yours. Your girlfriend was nervous, you realized.

“Why… why didn’t you tell me? I mean, I understand if this was new and you weren’t telling anyone, but it’s been a year. You’ve never dated anyone for longer than a month, hermanita, why would you keep this from me?”

Alexia opened her mouth to reply, but you recognized the question was directed at you and your sister would not appreciate your girlfriend speaking for you.

“At first, we just wanted to see where things were going. And then… I don’t know. It was just easier not to tell. We didn’t have to deal with anyone’s reactions or opinions that didn’t matter-”

“My opinion does not matter?” Mapi interjected, frowning sadly at you.

“Of course it does, María, I just… I wanted to decide this for myself. Without you being for it or against it, I wanted to decide how I felt about Alexia before anyone told me how I should feel.” You explained, relieved when your sister nodded slightly.

“Me too.” Alexia tacked on, wincing slightly when you stomped on her foot a bit, though her face fell further when Mapi turned to her with a cold glare.

“You have been keeping my sister a secret from everyone. Are you ashamed of her?”

“María!” You yelped, looking horrified at her.

Alexia remained calm, though, keeping steady eye contact with your sister. “No. She is the most important thing to me. We decided to keep it a secret together. I would have told the whole world that I loved her the minute I knew, if it would have made sense. People are still insane about me and Jenni, though, and I did not want her to get caught in the crossfire. It was just easier for both of us if no one knew.”

Mapi looked slightly less angry now.

“We were going to tell you. Next week at brunch, we were going to tell you, Mapi, I promise, this just happened first, and…”

“What that girl said to her,” Mapi began, again looking at your girlfriend with a slightly accusatory expression.

“Is false. Completely and entirely false. I want your sister, and her only. No one else.” Alexia spoke with conviction, and you felt a small smile on your face before you could stop it.

Mapi nodded thoughtfully, then fixed her attention on you. “And you are happy?”

“Yeah. I’m really happy, Mapi.”

“And you? You are happy?” She asked, again looking at Alexia.

“Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.” Your girlfriend said honestly, though you could see the tips of her ears turning slightly red; Alexia never had been good at expressing her feelings.

“Okay then.” Mapi said. “If you are both happy, then I am happy.”

“Really?” You asked, looking skeptically at your sister. She normally made things much more difficult than this.

Mapi just rolled her eyes. “Of course. You are both adults, and I trust you. I don’t think many people are good enough for you, hermanita, but if anyone is… it’s Ale. I guess.” She added the last part when Alexia looked close to tears. They weren’t expressive friends, normally showing their appreciation for each other through actions rather than words.

You stood, walking over to your sister and pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, María, but I’m really really glad you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you.” Mapi said gruffly, ruffling your hair like she used to do when you were much younger. As you flattened it back down with an annoyed look thrown at your sister, Alexia moved forward, pulling her best friend into a hug.

When Mapi whispered in her ear, Alexia wasn’t surprised at all. “If you hurt her, I will tear you limb from limb, Putellas. I mean it.”

Alexia knew she did.

And she had every intention of never hurting you, for as long as she lived. The ring she’d brought way too soon that sat in her sock drawer was evidence of that. The baby names she sometimes thought of when she lay awake at night were evidence. The way she looked at you, though, like you lit up every corner of her life, was the best evidence.

When Alexia tugged you into a hug next, Mapi knew from the way that her friend looked at you, that this was different. This was going to be forever. You were happy, and you were with her best friend, and there wasn’t much of a problem your sister could have with that. If you got married and changed your name to Putellas, though. That’s where she’d draw the line.

------

hope you enjoyed 🙂

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #león!reader #barcelona femeni x reader

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bratscave · 24 days

Text

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — MY LITTLE PRINCESS !

includes. dilf! logan x 23! shy? reader, very lightly implied daddy issues, sexual content! (car pussy eating lol)

You’ve seen Logan here before, countless times, always in that same corner, nursing his drink in solitude. His age should turn you off, it really should but somehow that just got you more intrested, you had been stern on doing something about said-intrest but your fear of talking and interacting with men, held you back.

Tonight, tonight you were going to do it. You were sure of it. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slide off the barstool, your legs feeling a little shaky as you make your way across the room. Each step feels like it takes you all your power, and by the time you reach his table, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.

You pause for a moment, hesitating, before you finally force yourself to speak, "is the seat taken?" your voice was quiet, shaky even, you silently cursed yourself — you had wanted yourself to sound confident, god damn it.

He turns around with a gaze that was so intense, you were sure he was about to fuck you off to go somewhere else, yet he quietly gestured to the seat next to him. You slide into the seat opposite him, your knees brushing logans under the table.

"You're a bit young to be in a place like this," he murmurs, his voice deep and gravelly, carrying the weight of all the years he’s lived. There’s a teasing edge to his tone, but also a hint of concern, like he’s trying to figure out what a girl like you is doing in a place like this, with a man like him.

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. "Maybe I like being around… older men." Well not the older men around you, him though, very much so. "I'm not that young." you add on, it was true - since when were people in their mid twenties considered, young?

A scoff slips past his lips at your response, though it did pique his intrest. His thumb circled around the glass of his whiskey, you were sure that was at least the fourth one he had, "Not that young, huh? Then how old are you, princess?"

You practically feel yourself grow hotter at the nickname, on it's own 'princess' sounds so endearing, so loving — but with his rough tone, it got this different edge to it. "23," you mumble, obediently at his question.

Logan repeats your age, let's it slip from his tongue losely, makes it hang around the dimly light bar and between you.

"I wonder what your parents would think, princess. If only they knew where their little girl was right now, and who she was with."

You'd actually think he was somewhat concearned if it wasn't for the almost mocking tone in his voice, not like he was making fun of you moreover like he just found this situation and how you were behaving amusing.

The blush intensifies at his comment, you hated how you reacted to him, how your body did too; you didn't want to come of as to shy or inexperienced. that was not the case, well somewhat. Your absent father, certaintly wouldn't care - your mother, maybe but who'd tell her? "I'm not a little girl," you're grown god damn it.

His smirk only grew as you got increasingly red. It was cute.

"Oh, really? You look like a little girl to me, princess. All shy and flustered just from sitting at the same table as me. Can't even look me in my eyes."

Logan leaned a little closer to you, his tone almost advising, "You look like you need someone to take care of you, princess. Someone older. More experienced. Do your little boytoys not take care of you right, hm?"

It takes all your will power to not run off into the sunset, burry yourself a hole and think about what he said for the rest of your life. You manage to answer quietly, "you sound like you want to be that 'someone'"

"smart girl," he snickered, satisfied with your reply.

"I'll admit, I've been watching you for a while. You come here all the time and drink all by yourself. All alone. Always sitting at the same spot, watching others."

You can feel yourself get wetter at just his words, he had been observing you? The you, who looked at him countless times, sure he was not looking back or cared at that either.

Sooner then your mother would be proud of, you were in his car. Well- you and him were in his backseat. The car smelled old, looked old too but you didn't have time to make details out as he kept your legs spread for him, rough big hands patting the skin every now and then, to quietly tell you how good you were.

His tongue was way to busy to talk, licking and sucking with a precision that was applaudible. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just hours ago, you were too shy to even speak to him, and now here you were, half-naked in the backseat of his car, your body squirming around.

He wasn’t gentle — Logan was thorough, relentless, like he had something to prove. And maybe he did, maybe he wanted to show you exactly what you’d been missing, what it was like to be with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His stubble scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the rawness of the experience, making it feel more real.

He was so broad, taking up most of the space in that damn backseat and he was hungry. starved, or at least he ate you out like he was.

Logan would make sure that, for the next few days, you’d feel him in every corner of your body. You would ache, throb in all the right places — all because of him.

#.🎀⋆ logan! thoughts #logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fic #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett drabble #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction

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smileysuh · 1 year

Text

forget him

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “What if… what if I helped you out a little?” His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs. “Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

tw/cw. recent breakup, fingering, Hyuck walks in while y/n is masturbating, masturbation, assisted masturbation, toy/dildo use, overstimulation, dacryphilia, reader has multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, big dick Hyuck, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, talking about y/n's ex while they fuck, marking/claim kink, full/breeding kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.1k

🍭 aus. friends to lovers, roommates au, recent breakup, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. When I tell you I need to be demolished by this Hyuck-

Hyuck absolutely hates seeing you like this.

He’d thought it had been hard seeing you in love with his best friend Mark Lee, but seeing you in the throws of depression after your recent breakup takes the cake for Hyuck when it comes to him having a straight up horrible time.

Obviously, you have it worse, and he’s not trying to contest that fact- he just hadn’t realized that when the thing he’d been hoping for actually came to pass- it would feel this bad.

In the dark reaches of his mind, he wonders if he’d had something to do with the separation, although, in truth, he knows that’s ridiculous. He’d been as supportive as a friend and roommate could be about you and Mark. He’d forced smiles and words of encouragement when you’d gushed through the talking phase. He’d found ways to ditch the apartment when you and Mark started to get physical, doing his best to give you privacy while getting high as a kite at Lee Jeno’s place to distract himself from the fact that you were getting railed by someone other than him. And now, he supposes, he’s doing his due diligence in making you feel better when you’re at your worst.

Hyuck’s doing the best he can to make things easy for you. He’s set up movie days, and he’s made you ramen. He’s allowed you to shuffle closer to him on the couch, even resting your head on his shoulder any time you start to tear up. He’s paused films to listen to you explain things like “When Mark and I watched this, he would always get so excited when Totoro would show up” or “Mark hated No Face.”

He wonders if doing a Ghibli marathon is the best idea, given how much you associate it with Mark, but when he’d asked you about it and you insisted you would feel better watching the films, he’d left it at that.

You’re your own person, and Hyuck’s always trusted you to make the best decisions for yourself… even when he doesn’t agree with them.

Cuddled next to you on your living room couch, Hyuck does his best just to be there for you. He ignores the boys’ group chat messages, where other friends are taking care of Mark. As far as Hyuck’s concerned, he’s team you, all the way, and he always has been.

He notices the way you start to shift next to him, pulling away from his shoulder to stretch your arms over your head.

“You good?” Hyuck asks, looking away from the movie to give you his complete and undivided attention.

“Yeah,” you sigh, frowning slightly. “Just tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” He studies your face, noticing all the signs of exhaustion- although, to be fair, you’ve been a sleepy wreck of a thing since your breakup two weeks ago.

“I probably should,” you concede, taking another deep breath. “Thanks for making me dinner and watching movies with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyuck says, flashing you a small smile as he straightens in his seat, reaching for the remote to stop the movie.

“You’ve been so nice since… since the whole Mark thing.” He can see you swallowing back tears, and you reach up to wipe your eye with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“That’s what friends are for,” Hyuck assures you, although, his attention toward you has always far surpassed that of a friend. It’s a shame you’ve never realized that fact.

“Just… thanks,” you say again, holding open your arms for a hug that Hyuck is more than happy to give you.

He adjusts on the couch, leaning forward to scoop you into his arms. Your cheek presses to his shoulder and he breathes in the smell of your fruity body wash. He tries his best not to hug you too hard- because if he did, you might actually realize that every time you hug him, he has no true intention of ever letting you go.

“Sleep well, okay, gorgeous?” he prompts, stroking your hair and using the petname he’d given you far before you’d ever met Mark. “You really need your rest.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him, giving one last gentle squeeze before you pull away.

Hyuck watches you stand up, your hoodie skimming your mid thigh. He knows you’re wearing sleeping shorts under the oversized fabric, but he can’t help but swallow thickly, imagining what it would be like if you were just in panties.

He really has to get his mind out of the gutter, and Hyuck knows that- he’s been trying to, in all honesty he has- but it’s been four years of knowing you, one of living together, and he still can’t manage to keep his thoughts PG.

With one last small smile, you turn and begin to shuffle to your room.

He misses your lively movements. The first night you’d moved in together, you’d had a small dance party together, and Hyuck’s always been adamant that no one’s hips move like yours do.

He misses your joy. The way you sparkle when you’re happy. You used to smile like a kid in a candy shop anytime you watched your favourite movies or ate the ramen he’d made for you, but these days, the most you can muster is a small upquirk of the sides of your lips.

Hyuck wants to make you smile again. He’s just not sure how to do it.

He knows you need time. Time heals all wounds, or so they say. He just wishes he could fast track your recovery.

Your bedroom door shuts and the spell of watching you is broken. Hyuck takes a deep breath, looking around the messy living room. There are blankets and pillows strewn all over, take out boxes from your day inside, tissues from when you’d cried.

He’s not generally known to be the cleanest man around town, but Hyuck feels that in times like these, the least he can do is keep things tidy. He’s sure you’ll feel better to come out of your room every morning to a nice apartment, so he begins his work of collecting water cups and take away boxes.

You’ve definitely lost your spark, and Hyuck thinks maybe he has too. He’s used to playing music loudly, using it as energy at all hours of the day, but tonight, while he cleans, he keeps things quiet. His head is full, and his ears are on edge, paying attention to the sounds coming from your room.

In those first days after the breakup, he’d heard you crying a lot, and he’s sure that barging into your room to give you a hug had cheered you up. He’s hoping it won’t be necessary today.

As much as he loves hugging you, seeing you cry always makes him feel like someone is trying to tear open his chest and clench his heart. It’s an ache he doesn’t enjoy.

When you’d moved in together, he’d decided that as a girl - with monthly girl issues - you should have the bigger room with the connected bathroom, and he listens to the sound of you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed.

You begin to hum something, and Hyuck realizes it’s the first time he’s heard you sing since your breakup.

Maybe tonight will be a good night.

Hyuck has moved all the clutter to the kitchen, and he begins to put stuff in the garbage and dishwasher while he listens to you hum. He thinks about the day you met, at uni orientation. He’d never become friends with someone so fast in his life, and when you’d discovered you had three of five classes together- well, he’s never looked back, not for one second.

He wonders how things would be different if he’d ever manned up and told you how he felt- how he feels- how his affection for you has only been growing and growing-

Hyuck finds himself heading to the fridge and taking out a beer. He hasn’t been drinking much since you and Mark broke up, hasn’t needed the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, so when he takes a large swig, he finds that it immediately takes the edge off.

He can’t be thinking about wifing you up right now- no matter how much he might wish to.

Although… as he leans against the sink and downs the can, grabbing another, he begins to wonder if offering himself up to you as a distraction really would be the worst thing in the world.

Sure, it wouldn’t be the way he’d want to start things with you- but maybe he could make you fall in love with him and forget all about Mark Lee. However, in all honesty, he’d probably be risking your friendship.

He’s played this mind game with himself too many times before, and Hyuck always finds himself at a stalemate. Frustration bubbles up inside and he looks out at the living room, determined to set himself back on the task of cleaning.

Hyuck throws the pillows onto the couch, and he even begins to fold up a blanket, and that’s when he hears a familiar sound.

You’ve never been the type to seek much affection, especially when you’re in your room, so whenever he’s caught you crying, it’s always started with a whimper.

What Hyuck’s just heard was definitely a whimper, and his whole body surges with white-hot, electric energy, his eyes darting to your door. His breath catches, and he tosses the blanket down to the ground, frozen as he waits for another sound of distress.

A small gasp can be heard under the crack of your door, and Hyuck’s body bolts into action. He’s moving so fast he stumbles a little over his own feet just as he reaches your room, and he wonders if drinking two beers was a good idea. His hand lands on your door, and he knocks aggressively.

“You okay in there, gorgeous?” he calls.

“I’m fine!” you respond, but there’s definitely an edge to your voice.

He can tell something is wrong- can tell you’re lying to him, and in a split second, Hyuck is making a decision.

“I’m coming in.”

You let out a small squeak of surprise, tearing your hand away from the toy still lodged inside of you so you can pull the blankets up around your shoulders, jaw dropping as your roommate barges into your room.

“Hyuck!”

He stands in the doorway, studying you, and you can see a look of confusion cross his face. “I thought I heard you crying.”

“I’m not crying!” you insist, core clenching around the dildo. “Get out!”

Hyuck doesn’t move. “I definitely heard a whimper,” he insists.

Your heart is practically racing in your chest, and you’re very much aware of the pleasurable feeling still thrumming from your core. Cock warming was something you enjoyed doing with Mark, and the fact that you’re cock warming a toy while Hyuck stares at you is having a wholly unexpected effect on your entire body.

“People whimper for all sorts of reasons!” you say dumbly. “Leave!”

Hyuck tilts his head to the side, assessing you again. “You never speak to me like this.”

“You usually don’t just barge in here unannounced!”

“Yes, I do,” Hyuck points out. “Why’s tonight different?”

“What do you mean-”

“Something is different,” he says, more firmly this time. His gaze dips, taking in the blanket still wrapped tightly around your form. “Wait…” you see the exact moment he realizes what you’re up to, and even from a few feet away, you see the way his pupils dilate. “Are you…”

“Hyuck-” you groan, lifting the blankets to hide your face, hoping he can’t see the shame that’s beginning to consume you.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“Are what?” you ask, deciding to play dumb.

You can hear him scoff, and you peak from under the blanket just in time to see his signature eye roll. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, something he does when he’s getting annoyed, and you can feel yourself dripping down your dildo.

He meets your gaze again. “I didn’t hear a vibrator, so let me guess…” You watch him swallow thickly. “The toy’s still inside of you, isn’t it?”

Curse him for knowing you so well.

Curse him for having a dirty mind.

And maybe most of all, curse yourself for being so stupidly turned on that you can’t even deny what he’s just said. All you can do is groan loudly, hiding again.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“Yes!”

You hear him click his tongue. “Come on, gorgeous. We both know I can tell when you lie to me. We’ve been friends for years, you don’t have to be… ashamed about this.”

But shame is exactly what you’re feeling, and his words don’t help at all.

“Please, just leave,” you sigh, so embarrassed you think you might actually die.

“What if… what if I helped you out a little?”

His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs.

“Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

“You’re being crazy.” You peak out at him. “We’re roommates- Mark is one of your best friends-”

“I’ve known you longer and I’m loyal to you,” Hyuck insists firmly. “And besides, stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah? Like what?” you can’t help but laugh a little, and the contraction of your stomach muscles pushes the toy slightly out of your core, making you groan at the loss.

From the look that crosses Hyuck’s face, he obviously notices your sound, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “For one, the fact that you even dated Mark was a little crazy.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“But nice doesn’t fill you up at night. Nice doesn’t make you cum so hard you feel it through your whole body.” Hyuck holds up a hand. “And before you try to tell me Mark was good in bed, remember that I have a room next to yours. Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean he can fuck. Not the way you deserve.”

You shift in your bed, sitting up a little to address your roommate. “Yeah? And how do I deserve to be fucked?”

“You deserve someone who’s going to worship every inch of you. Someone who’s going to make you cum over and over- make you gush so good you’re begging for it, begging to finally get dicked down so hard you can’t even walk after. Someone who makes you cry for all the right reasons.”

You stare at Hyuck.

You’re not even sure what to say.

He’s never talked like this to you, ever- at least, not in your waking hours.

You’ve had dreams about his sharp tongue, his long fingers, and his big cock- but never gave credence to your lustful fantasies. Hyuck’s always just been a friend-

“Why now?” you find yourself asking. “After all this time-”

“I’m tired of watching you hurt over something I might be able to help you fix.”

“So cock is the fix to a broken heart?”

“Gorgeous, I think we both know that what I’m offering you is more than cock.”

“Right, I’m guessing tongue and fingers-”

Hyuck gives you an unimpressed look. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“That I’m super into you? That I’ve been into you since we met? That it killed me to watch you be with Mark when I knew you should have been with me?”

“Hyuck-” you breathe, feeling even more whiplash from these words than his dirty talk.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything about that stupid feels shit, just… just let me take care of you tonight.”

“What if we regret it?” You press your thighs together, keeping the toy just inside of you while you begin to fidget with your blanket. “What if it ruins our friendship?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question for years,” Hyuck admits. “But… after looking at you now- I really don’t think that’s something we have to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m about to make you cum so hard you forget about every other man in your life.”

“Promise?”

He nods. “Promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hyuck lets out a small laugh. “So… you going to lift those covers and let me see what I’m dealing with or…?”

“God,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I call you gorgeous for a reason, don’t I?” Hyuck grins. “Come on, I wanna see.”

You grab at the blankets, taking a deep breath. Then you start to move them off your body.

Your roommate watches your every movement, dipping his head to focus as you lift the fabric covering your feet, then your calves-

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, me neither,” Hyuck admits. “I’ve been waiting so long to see you like this.”

His words make your stomach erupt in butterflies, and you feel the toy still half wedged in your core. “Should I… should I remove the dildo first?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I wanna see that too.” His eyes meet yours. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so fucking hot, I’m already hard.”

He reaches a hand down to cup the front of his sweatpants, and you realize he’s not lying. You can see the impressive print of his cock pressing against the fabric, and it makes your mouth water. It also gives you the confidence to fully reveal yourself to his hungry eyes, and the moment he sees you, Hyuck lets out a deep groan.

“Shit, gorgeous,” Hyuck says, letting out a deep breath. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined.”

His words make you feel shy, and you close your legs, only for Hyuck to press a knee to the bed, both hands reaching out to prompt your thighs back open.

“Don’t hide from me,” he warns, and there’s an edge to his tone. He’s still being soft with you, his touch gentle, but there’s an obvious hunger rising inside of him. “Tell me about this toy.”

“Well, I uh…” you search for your words. “It’s one of the first ones I ever bought-”

“It’s small,” Hyuck notes, which is kind of funny considering it’s Mark sized. “Can I use it on you?”

“You want to fuck me with the toy?” You blink at your long term friend and roommate.

“Gotta stretch you out to take something bigger.” Hyuck smirks devilishly, and your pussy throbs- he’s definitely bigger than Mark and the toy still half lodged inside of you. You can’t wait to find out how much bigger.

“You can-” you bite at your lip, “you can fuck me with it.”

“Good girl,” Hyuck praises you, and you can feel yourself practically dripping around the dildo now.

You hold your breath in anticipation while Hyuck gets settled on the foot of the bed. His warm palms smooth over your thighs, forcing you wider, and then his fingers grab the base of the toy. “Do you like it slow?”

“I think… to start off with?” You feel too hazy to be able to answer questions, and he hasn’t even started with you. “But… when you fuck me, can you go fast, please?”

“Of course, gorgeous. I can do anything you want,” he assures you, applying pressure to the toy so it begins to lodge deeper inside of you. You let out a small sigh and Hyuck looks up at you, grinning. “You’re so wet, babe, making this too fucking easy.”

“It’s not my fault-” you defend yourself, voice shaky.

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” His smile widens. “Talking dirty gets you going, huh, gorgeous?”

You nod, resting your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of him beginning to work the toy in and out of your pussy.

“Bet Mark’s dirty talk game was weak,” Hyuck says under his breath.

You don’t have it in you to agree with him, although… he’s correct. Something tells you he knows it too, because he lets out a small chuckle.

Hyuck’s using his right hand to fuck you with the toy, and his left moves from your thigh. A moment later, his thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your clit and your toes curl from the stimulation. A gentle gasp escapes you and you can practically hear Hyuck smile.

“Feels good?” he prompts.

“So good,” you nod. You need something to hold onto, so you grab at the one piece of clothing on your body, a night shirt, which you lift up your to your abdomen, giving Hyuck more room to work.

He rubs your clit harder and you let out a whine, feeling the familiar build of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Hyuck tells you, and you can feel his breath on your pussy which makes you twitch. “God, I could watch you squirm like this all night.”

“Please-”

“Please what?”

You don’t even know. All you know is listening to the squelching sound of the toy going in and out of you while his thumb rubs your clit is driving you insane.

“I want to kiss you,” you decide, realizing Hyuck’s about to make you cum and you haven’t even really gotten a taste of him.

Hyuck stops what he’s doing immediately, manuevering up the bed so he’s on top of you, one hand pressed to the pillow while he looks down at you.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Your hands explore his shoulders and one snakes into his hair, then you’re tugging his mouth down to your own. Hyuck’s gentle with you at first, but when you go to bite on his lower lip, he groans loudly. His tongue darts out to brush against your own, and the kiss deepens.

You’re done with your toy. You want to feel him, and you reach between your bodies to remove the dildo, pulling it out and tossing it onto the floor next to the bed.

Hyuck breaks your kiss to look at the wet toy on the ground, and he lets out a small laugh, gaze returning to your own. “Why’d you do that?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah?” His hand slips between your forms, and two digits stroke the length of your pussy, making you moan. “Want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, grabbing at the front of his shirt, tugging his mouth back to yours while he buries himself into you knuckle deep.

He strokes your walls, and the feeling is absolutely delightful, especially when he angles his hand, palm pressing to your clit while he seeks out your gspot.

His lips are hot against your own, and they don’t muffle the sound of pleasure escaping you.

Hyuck’s a bit of a gamer, but you never really realized his fingers could feel this good-

“Shit, gorgeous,” he groans, breaking the kiss to move his mouth to your throat, where he lets out deep breaths. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m so close-” you confess, gripping his shoulders tighter while he finger fucks you even harder, chasing your release.

“You’ll be a good girl and cum for me, right?” Hyuck prompts, which makes you mewl. “Yeah, you’ve always been such a good girl, gonna be good and cum all over my fingers-”

His words make you throb, and he applies more pressure to your clit with his palm. His lips press kisses to your neck and he finds your sweetspot, making everything feel all the more intense.

You’re on the edge, and you let out a loud gasp, clenching your eyes shut in anticipation.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Come on, I wanna feel you.”

His words make the cord in your stomach snap, and your body is flooded with the pleasure of your release. You feel it everywhere, and it makes you cry out while holding onto him tighter. His hand continues between your thighs, fingers unrelenting, palm heavy on your clit.

Hyuck works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and pushing at his shoulders, and then he straightens a little, motions stopping while he looks down at you. “Did you enjoy that?”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes a little. “You know I did.”

“Yeah, but you could still stroke my ego a little.”

“Stroke your ego?” You reach for his cock, gripping him through his sweats. “Like this?”

Hyuck lets out a low groan, thrusting forward to meet your hand. “As much as I’d love to watch you jack me off- tonight I’m here to make you feel better, and I’m not anywhere near being done with you yet.”

You’d never realized Hyuck had any self control, and you watch in shock as he gently moves your hand away.

“I’m going to eat you out now,” he tells you, slipping down the bed so he’s on his stomach between your legs. Hyuck spreads you open, gently kissing your inner thigh before looking up at you. “You good with this?”

“Uh huh,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as you prepare yourself for his tongue. “I’m still sensitive though.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Hyuck promises, pressing a very soft kiss to your clit. “I can be gentle, contrary to popular belief.”

You can’t help but let out a giggle, but the sound is cut short when Hyuck unexpectedly buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses into your hole and the feeling has your legs quaking as he adjusts them over his shoulders, trying to dive even deeper.

“Shit, Hyuck-” you whimper, grabbing at his hair.

He’s always been a bit of a liar- maybe you shouldn’t have believed him when he said he’d go easy on you. But… at the same time, the way his nose repeatedly bumps your clit has a fire building in your abdomen again, and you really aren’t even that mad about it.

You can feel Hyuck smile against you, and it’s such a turn on to know he’s enjoying himself while providing you with pleasure. Mark had always been somewhat rigid in your sexual interactions, much more serious than the grinning cheshire cat between your legs now.

Where Mark had been slow and tentative, Hyuck’s eager and passionate. He switches between lapping at your hole, sucking your clit, and pushing his tongue into you as deep as it can go, licking at your walls and working you up way faster than anyone else ever has in your entire life.

Then he begins to groan, and you realize he’s grinding against the bed-

Is eating you out really that sexy for him?

You feel another gush of wetness from the thought and your pussy throbs, warning you both that you’re close again. Hyuck responds by adjusting ever so slightly, lips wrapping around your clit while he pushes a hand to your entrance, slipping two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, back arching off the bed while the cord in your stomach is pulled unbelievably tight.

Hyuck’s fingers twist in and out of your hole, and he licks at your clit in the most sloppy manner- it’s enough to have you exploding, a cry of pleasure escaping you while your core clamps down on your roommate.

He groans loudly, sinfully, and the vibration against your clit has your legs shaking around his head, orgasm pulsing deep through your entire being.

You’re practically crying at this point, and you can feel tears even while you clench your eyes shut, taking everything Hyuck’s giving you while moaning like a whore- you’ve never sounded this way, and there’s something almost addicting about the noises being torn out of you.

You know he feels it too, because Hyuck is completely unrelenting. If anything, he’s even more sloppy with the way he worships your pussy, fingers crooking up expertly-

You’re literally gushing around him, and you can feel it, can feel that your bed is going to be ruined after this. But you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is grab at your sheets, crying to the ceiling while your best friend makes you feel pleasure so intense that you can’t even think.

He’s fulfilled his promise about making you cry for good reasons… and he hasn’t even taken his cock out yet.

You’ve never been this needy in your entire life, and when he pulls away from your core, allowing you to catch your breath, you peak out at him from under wet lashes.

“You’re literally perfect,” he tells you, voice deep. His pupils are completely blown now and he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

You watch him bring glistening fingers up to his lips, slowly sucking them clean and moaning loudly at the taste of you before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck, and you’re already crying-” Hyuck sits up, leaning over you and reaching out to brush some of your tears away. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Hyuck-” you whimper, shocked that you’re choking up.

Your body is still being flooded with emotion and sensations. Your nipples are hard under your shirt and the fabric is becoming uncomfortable, making you more sensitive-

“Going to let me take care of you now, right, gorgeous?” he asks, pinching at your chin and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Please-” You grab at your shirt and Hyuck follows through by helping you take it off.

You’re now fully revealed to him, and your best friend sits back to appreciate you, letting out a deep breath.

“Mark’s so fucking stupid for letting you go,” Hyuck says.

His words are bitter sweet, and in your overstimulated state, you find your lower lip wobbling as you hold back a choked sob.

“Shh,” Hyuck whispers, reaching out to cup your cheek. “It’s better to be with someone who knows your worth, like I do. I’d never fucking treat you the way he did- I promise.”

The look on his face is so intense, and you know he’s telling you the truth.

Your body relaxes a little- Hyuck really is such a good guy, and what he’s doing for you helps more than he’ll probably ever know. He’s making you feel sexy again, making you feel needed and wanted and maybe even loved.

“Besides,” Hyuck clears his throat, taking off his own shirt, “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about that asshole.”

You can’t help but laugh sadly, wiping at your own face to get rid of the last tears while you watch Hyuck move to work on his sweats.

When he pushes the waistband down, revealing his cock, you think you might actually faint.

You’ve always thought Hyuck was a pretty guy, sexy of course, but pretty too- and his cock? It’s as stupidly pretty as the rest of him.

He must be a little over seven inches, and he’s girthy too-

You can feel yourself practically drooling as you look at him, and Hyuck smirks at your reaction. “Sure you’re ready for this, gorgeous?”

“If you don’t fuck me I think I might die.”

He laughs at your words. “Then I guess I better fuck you.”

“Should we…” you bite at your lip. “Do we need condoms?”

“Babe,” Hyuck scoffs. “Babe- we’re both clean, right? And I know you’re on birth control… do you want me to wear a condom? I always kind of imagined you’d be the kind of girl who wants to be full.”

How many times has he imagined this, you wonder.

But he’s right. You want him to fill you up like no one else has.

“Come here,” you say, holding open your arms while he kicks his sweats off.

Hyuck’s hands find the pillows by your head and he slots himself between your legs, lips pressing against your own.

You thread your fingers through his soft brown hair, kissing him eagerly. You want to get lost in him, and it’s easy to do that when he begins to rut his cock against your pussy, bumping your clit and making your thighs shake around his hips.

“Just fuck me,” you groan, already feeling so unbelievably needy.

Hyuck smirks against your lips, pulling away to look down at you with mischief in his eyes. “You’re so fucking hot it’s insane.”

“Then why aren’t you inside me yet?”

He moans a little, dipping his head to look between your bodies while he reaches for the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole. “If it hurts, I’ll stop.”

You’re about to scoff and tell him he’s not that big when he pushes his head into your entrance and a gasp leaves your lips. The stretch is very real, and you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on getting your body to relax.

You can practically feel your pussy struggling to make room for him, and even though you’re as wet as a fucking slip and slide, it’s still a little difficult for him to push in inch after inch-

“Fuck,” you whimper, and Hyuck rewards you by burying his face in your throat, peppering your skin in kisses. The soft feeling of his lips is enough to distract you from the intrusion opening up your pussy, and soon his hips are flush against your own, making you both release groans of pleasure.

“You ready for this?” Hyuck asks.

“God, yes-”

He reaches for your hand, pressing it to the pillow and threading your fingers. Then he kisses you softly-

When he begins to rut into you, it’s anything but soft.

Hyuck’s motions are calculated and rough, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you that has you squeezing his hand. You’d be cussing if it weren’t for his hot lips against your own, lips that have gotten increasingly demanding, his tongue stroking yours while you gasp.

It feels amazing- like, truly. You’ve never been fucked like this, and he’s only just started.

He stops kissing you, breathing heavily while he fucks you even harder. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You’re literally balls deep inside of me,” you nearly laugh. “You can ask me anything.”

“I’m just,” Hyuck groans, squeezing your hand. “Did you ever think about me when you were fucking Mark?”

Your pussy clenches at the question, from shock or hornyness, you’re not sure.

“I-”

“You did, didn’t you?” Hyuck grins. “Don’t think I didn’t just feel you get super fucking tight around me- God, you are dirty like me, aren’t you, gorgeous? I thought… thought that when you started dating soft boy Mark, maybe you were more vanilla, but that’s not you, is it?”

“No-”

“You like to get fucked, properly, don’t you, babe?” Hyuck continues.

“Fuck, yes-”

“And Mark didn’t know how to do that for you, did he? Mark didn’t know how to make you wet like this, didn’t know how to make you cry or scream or beg-”

You can’t bring yourself to verbally slander Mark while Hyuck’s fucking you like a wild man, so instead you just shake your head. Your confirmation makes Hyuck grin, and he fucks you even harder, the whole bed rocking while the sound of skin on skin fills the room.

“You know what? Enough about Mark. Forget him. You don’t need him anymore.” Hyuck’s mouth is hot on your neck and his words make you shiver as he moves to suck your earlobe. “You only need me. You only need me, I promise.”

Hyuck lets go of your hand and you’re about to argue with him about it when he shoves his fingers between your bodies, rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

“Hyuck!” you whimper, writhing beneath him.

“That’s it gorgeous. I wanna ruin you for anyone else. After this, no one’s going to make you cum like I can.” He’s groaning now, voice all breathy and super sexy- “If I make you cum three times the first time I fuck you, that means you’re mine right?”

You moan loudly at the idea, grabbing his shoulders while he works you closer and closer to yet another orgasm that you have no doubt will be as mind blowing as the first two.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Hyuck says, voice gruffer now. “Fuck, gorgeous, I want you so badly- just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp when he applies more pressure to your clit.

“That’s my girl,” Hyuck smiles against your neck. “You’ll let me mark you right? Let me suck some pretty bruises into your skin so every time you look in the mirror you know your roommate fucks you right-”

His tongue darts out, licking a stripe of your throat before his lips press to your sweet spot. He suctions his mouth onto you, teeth grazing your skin and causing you to cry out while you move your hands to tug on his hair.

Hyuck lets out a sinful groan when you pull gently on his soft brown strands, but he doesn’t let up. He’s entirely focused on you and your pleasure, cock continuing to rearrange your insides while his fingers abuse your nearly overstimulated clit-

“I’m so close-” you whimper, eyes closed as your body once again approaches the edge with startling speed.

“Yeah?” Hyuck moves away from your neck and you get the sense that he’s looking down at you. “Gonna cum on this cock and let me fill you up? Gonna let me breed you like the good girl you are? Make you so stupidly full that you’re fucking dripping?”

“Yes, fuck, Hyuck, please-” You’re on the verge of tears again, whole body thrumming with energy-

“Then cum for me. Let me fucking feel you.”

You twitch from his words, and then you’re falling over the edge, gasping and clawing at him while you’re overcome with ecstasy. You’re not sure if it’s because this is your third orgasm, or if it’s because his cock is balls deep inside of you, but this orgasm is the most intense of them all.

You’re reduced to a completely primal side of yourself, brain short circuiting while your body takes over. There are no thoughts, only the attempt to process all the pleasure that’s flowing through you like a river that’s broken through a dam.

The sounds escaping you are unlike anything that has ever come from your vocal cords, and Hyuck is also cumming, groaning loudly as he presses his lips to yours. His tongue is hot as it licks at your bottom lip, and his thrusts are erratic.

He takes his hand away from your clit in favour of finding yours again, fingers locking while he squeezes you. You can feel the passion radiating off of him, can feel that this won’t be a one time thing and you both know it.

Hyuck takes care of you through your orgasms until you’re both finished, and his motions begin to slow until he’s simply half laying on top of you, his kisses much more gentle as you gasp into each others mouths.

His hips are flush against your own, keeping his cum inside of you while you make out. His body is warm and it almost feels like a security blanket draped across your own. Hyuck’s fingers are still tangled with yours, and it feels nice just to be holding someone’s hand again.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” Hyuck groans, pulling away from your lips, “if we keep kissing I might have to fuck you again, and I don’t think you could take another orgasm.”

“Not tonight,” you agree, blinking up at your roommate.

It’s like you’re seeing him in a new light, and you assess the soft details of his features. He really is a beautiful man.

“And we ruined your bed,” Hyuck says with a grin. “You were squirting earlier and your sheets are too wet to sleep in, so I guess that means you’re coming to my room tonight.”

“You want me to sleep with you?” you nearly laugh.

“I’d honestly be offended if you didn’t.” He lets go of your hand, pushing himself off of you. “I didn’t get to touch your tits at all, and I’d like to have something to grab onto when we sleep.”

“God, you’re such a menace,” you giggle, pushing at his chest.

“You love it,” Hyuck insists, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, we should shower.”

“So we’re showering together now too? Weren’t you the guy who said Mark was being clingy by wanting to see me every day when we started dating?”

“It’s clingy when Mark does it,” Hyuck notes. “When I do it, it’s endearing and charming and sexy-”

“Sure it is,” you say sarcastically, shaking your head at him.

“What happened to my good girl?” Hyuck teases. “If you keep talking back, I might be tempted to ruin you in the shower.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, that doesn’t actually sound like the worst thing in the world.

“Fine, let’s go,” you concede, letting out a sigh.

There’s so much you could say about what has just taken place, but one thing you can state with confidence is that you do feel better. Hyuck had made you forget about Mark, if only for a short while before he started shit talking his friend- but, his words of slander hadn’t actually made you mad or sad or upset- they’d actually kind of had the opposite effect.

Life will go on after Mark Lee, and Hyuck’s made you realize that.

In fact, maybe your life after Mark will go on with Hyuck.

Maybe it was always meant to be this way.

You’re too tired to think about these big ideas in detail tonight, not after everything that’s just happened. Instead, you allow yourself to live in the moment, allow your roommate to take care of you the way he always has.

For now, this is more than enough.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm back in my Hyuck feels again

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🔮 preview. “So perfect,” Hyuck tells you, reaching his hands up to cup your breasts. Before he can dive in, however, you press the ice pack to his face again and he winces below you. A scowl forms, and he glares into your eyes. “Maybe I don’t like it when you take care of me.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, thigh riding, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, claim kink, boob worship, big dick Hyuck, sex in on the living room couch, physical altercation between new boy and ex, overstim, holding off an orgasm, cumming together, light spanking, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe .

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

“Dude,” Jeno sighs, staring at the man sitting on his couch. “You did not-”

“Except that I did,” Hyuck smirks. “You should be happy for me.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to Mark after you tell him you fucked his ex?” Renjun asks, narrowing his eyes at their naughtiest friend.

“Actually,” Hyuck sighs, leaning back against the couch, “I think we shouldn’t tell Mark, not yet at least.”

“So now you’re making us all culpable in your bullshit,” Renjun groans loudly, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gaze shifts from the angry aries to Jaemin, who’s yet to say anything since Hyuck’s big reveal. “You’re cool with this, aren’t you?”

“I mean…” Jaemin cocks his head to the side, “you have wanted to be with her for years-”

“See, Jaemin gets it!” Hyuck grins, eyes turning to his part time gym buddy next. “And Jeno? You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

“Mark is not going to be happy about this,” Jeno frowns.

“And I wasn’t happy when he started dating my roommate crush,” Hyuck states, “or when he broke up with her unexpectedly.”

“Don’t lie,” Renjun scoffs, “we all know you probably celebrated when they ended things.”

“Only a little,” Hyuck confesses, grinning again. “Okay but for real,” his expression turns serious, “guys, I think I love her.”

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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months

Text

Babysitting || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: day out babysitting Liliana 🙈 fake social media pics at the end aswell!!

Warnings: NONE! pure fluff

Word count: 1,478

A/n: Baby fever is astronomically high rn and those pics Mackayla posted did NOT help whatsoever

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Babe! They’re here!” Drew calls out from the front door, his voice brimming with excitement. You quickly make your way downstairs, your face lighting up with a broad smile. Today, you and Drew are babysitting his niece, Liliana, while Mackayla and Garrett enjoy a much-needed day together.

“Hi!” you greet Mackayla warmly, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you for letting us look after her,” you say, your voice filled with genuine gratitude. Mackayla giggles, hugging you back. “I know how much you love looking after her. Plus, Drew mentioned you were missing her more than usual these past few weeks.”

You glance at Drew, who’s smiling at himself. “Garrett is just getting her from the car. She fell asleep as soon as we started driving,” Mackayla explains, looking back at the vehicle. Drew steps closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head.

Moments later, Garrett comes into view, carefully walking up the steps with Liliana fast asleep in her capsule. He approaches with a quiet smile, trying not to disturb the sleeping baby. Drew reaches out and gently takes the capsule from Garrett, cradling it with care. “Thanks again for agreeing to do this,” Mackayla says, her smile broadening as she looks at both of you.

“Of course! You know Drew and I are always here if you need someone to look after her,” you reply, your voice warm and reassuring. Mackayla pulls you into another hug, her appreciation clear. “You guys have fun!” you call out as she and Garrett begin to walk back to their car, waving at the two of you.

“She awake yet?” Drew asks as he enters the living room, pulling on his shirt. “Yeah,” you reply, smiling down at Liliana who is standing on your thighs, her tiny hands gripping your fingers for balance. Her wide smile mirrors your own, and her eyes light up at the sight of her uncle.

“Look, who’s that?” you say, pointing to Drew as he approaches. Liliana’s face lights up even more, and she starts squealing with delight, her excitement contagious. “Hi baby,” Drew grins, putting his hands out to her. Liliana leans eagerly into him, her little arms reaching out.

Drew scoops her up effortlessly, bringing her close and planting a kiss on her cheek. She giggles, her small hands patting his face as she snuggles into him. Drew looks at you, his eyes shining with happiness. “She’s so happy to see her uncle,” you say, watching the sweet interaction between them.

“She’s my favorite little girl,” Drew replies, bouncing her gently in his arms. “Did you have a good nap, Liliana?”Liliana babbles happily in response, her bright eyes taking in everything around her. Drew laughs, his heart clearly full as he holds her close.

“I got the bags ready, and her stroller is already in the car,” you say, grabbing the car keys from the kitchen counter. You glance at your phone, where the weather app is open, showing the perfect temperature for Charleston. “The weather is perfect today,” you add, looking up with a smile.

“Let’s go then,” Drew smiles. “You excited, Lili?” he asks, turning his head to look at Liliana in his arms. She grins widely, clapping her hands with glee, making you giggle at her infectious enthusiasm.

“Here, I’ll put her in her car seat,” you offer, taking Liliana gently into your arms. She coos happily, her little hands reaching out to touch your face as you head outside. Drew follows, locking the door behind you and grabbing Liliana’s bag.

You carefully secure Liliana in her car seat, ensuring the straps are snug but comfortable. She looks up at you with wide, curious eyes, her smile never fading. Drew places her bag in the backseat before getting into the drivers seat. He adjusts the rearview mirror to get a better look at his niece, “All good?” He says to you as you put on your seatbelt, “Yep.”

As Drew drives into Charleston, you both glance back a few times, smiling as you watch Liliana’s wide, curious eyes take in every building and tree that passes by. Her excitement is palpable, her little hands occasionally pointing at something that catches her attention.

“You think we need the stroller? I can always just use the baby carrier,” Drew suggests as you carefully lift Liliana out of her capsule. “Whatever feels more comfortable for you, babe,” you reply, glancing at Drew with a reassuring smile as he retrieves the baby carrier from the back and packs it into your bag.

Arriving at your favorite café, you and Drew walk in together, Liliana balanced comfortably on your hip. Drew pauses to chat briefly with one of the staff members, arranging for a table outside.

Liliana squirms with excitement, her eyes wide as she takes in the surroundings. You settle into your seats, Liliana comfortably sat on Drew’s lap as you both look at the menu.

“Want some table water?” Drew asks as he stands up to go place the order. “Yes please,” you grin, feeling Liliana’s little hand wrap around your thumb as you gently bounce your leg up and down to keep her entertained.

While Drew is away, you take a few photos with Liliana, capturing her adorable expressions and joyful demeanor. As you’re admiring the pictures, you notice a group of teenage girls across the street. They clearly recognize you and Liliana, excitedly pointing their phones in your direction.

“Hi y/n!” they call out enthusiastically, prompting you to wave and smile back at them. Liliana lifts her small hand, joining in the wave, which elicits delighted squeals from the girls. Just then, Drew returns with the water. “Who are you waving at-” he begins to ask before he sees the group.

You chuckle as smiles, and he waves back at the girls. Their squeals of excitement make both of you giggle. “Do you wanna go thrifting after this?” You say to Drew as you cut up a small piece of your pancakes and feed it to Liliana. “Yeah, why not,” He smiles, watching you and his niece interact, quickly snapping a pic of the two of you.

With Liliana snug against Drew in her baby carrier, you walked to your favorite vintage thrift store, occasionally stopping for photos with fans along the way. Inside, the elderly lady behind the counter greeted you warmly.

“Well, aren’t you an adorable family,” she smiled. “Oh, she’s-” you began, but Drew interjected with a gracious smile, “Thank you.” You exchanged a glance with Drew, both amused and touched by his charm. Turning back to the lady, you smile.

“Let me know if you guys need a hand with anything!” she called cheerfully as you and Drew looked around at the assortment of vintage items. “Will do, thanks,” you replied, your voice tinged with gratitude.

The day continued with shopping in Charleston—Drew spoiling Liliana as always—and a visit to the beach at sunset. The moment she was strapped into her capsule, she fell asleep and you made sure to snap a photo to send to Mackayla.

When you arrived home, Drew decided to let Liliana continue her sleep on his chest while you prepared dinner. The house was quiet and calm until the doorbell rang and your phone buzzed. You pouted at Drew, saddened that it was time for Liliana to go home. Drew chuckled softly, carefully rising from the couch with his niece still asleep against him.

“Hey,” you greeted as you opened the door to find Mackayla and Garrett standing there. “How was your guys’ day?” you asked, stepping aside to let them in. As you all settled on the couch, Mackayla began sharing the details of their day, and Liliana ended up resting on your chest as you listened.

“Did you guys want some dinner before you leave? I made a lot tonight,” you offered, hoping to extend Liliana’s visit. Drew chuckled, knowing you were making excuses to keep her longer, and Mackayla caught on too.

“Thanks for the offer, but we already ate,” Mackayla giggled as she stood up to retrieve her daughter. You turned away playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across your face while Drew struggled to contain his smile.

After a few moments of playful evasion, you finally gave in and handed Liliana back to her mother. “Promise you’ll come back soon!” you called out as Mackayla placed Liliana in her car seat.

“Promise!” Mackayla replied with a smile. Drew draped his arm around your shoulder, and you both waved as they drove away.

yourusername

Liked by madelyncline, mackayla_davila, drewstarkey, brooke_starkey and 4,974,028 others

Squishy 🥰

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madelyncline: CANT WAIT TO SEE HER AGAIN 😆

↘️ yourusername: me neither!!!

mackayla_davila: thinks it’s about time you have your own @/drewstarkey 🫢

↘️ yourusername: that’s what I’ve been saying :(

↘️ drewstarkey: 👀

↘️ user01: HELLO?! DREWS COMMENT??? WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN

user02: we can all agree that y/n and Drew’s babies would be hella cute 🥹

user03: can’t get enough of Drew and his niece!!

user04: they’re so cute it acc hurts 😭

drewstarkey

Liked by yourusername, garrettdavilla, odessazion, jonathandavissofficial and 6,048,272 others

@/yourusername would be a great mom.

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yourusername: so make me one 😢

↘️ drewstarkey: yes ma’am

↘️ yourusername: come upstairs then!!

↘️ jonathandavissofficial: oh?

↘️ user01: I CAN’T WITH THIS

↘️ user02: YES MA’AM?! R U KIDDING ME

odessazion: ya’ll are cute

user03: how does it feel to live my dream @/yourusername???

user04: living for the Y/n x Drew x Liliana content 🥰

user05: SHES SO CUTE!

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vanteguccir · 6 months

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘

　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a ray of sunshine, and Matt is her dose of grumpness.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @httpsm4tti

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Get out."

Y/N smiled as she heard Matt's short and authoritative voice echo through the walls of their shared room.

"Hi baby, are you okay?"

Matt lifted his head instantly, pulling his attention away from the computer screen in front of him and toward the door, where his girlfriend was standing.

A tray was resting securely in her open palms as a teasing gaze looked back at him.

A sigh escaped his lips, and Y/N knew it wasn't because he was stressed about seeing her but rather completely relieved. His tense posture gradually eased, and his frown dissolved, giving way to a calming stance.

"What are you doing here, petal?" Matt's tone came out soft, his hands leaving the keyboard and resting on his gray sweatpants covered thighs.

"You've been locked in here for hours. I haven't seen you get out to eat or drink anything until now..." Y/N began, starting her quick steps towards the brunette. "And since I know you're on a task to answer every email sent to the channel, I decided to bring you some snacks and drinks." A big smile spread across her face, her hands working on resting the tray on the empty space of his desk.

Matt glanced briefly at the contents on the wooden surface, fighting back a smile as he noticed all of his favorite snacks, plus a handmade sandwich and a can of rootbeer.

"You didn't need to do all this, sweetheart." The boy brought his blue orbs back to his girlfriend, his right hand coming up and resting on her hip lightly, gently stroking the covered skin.

"Anything for you, my love."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sound of the door to his shared room with Y/N opening echoed through Matt's ears. The boy was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for himself and his girlfriend, the sun's rays streaming through the living room's large windows serving as his only source of lighting.

Y/N's muffled and quick footsteps sounded through the small hallway that led to where he was.

The boy didn't need to turn around to know that she was now standing behind him, probably just the large wooden table separating them.

"Good morning, baby!" Y/N's voice was like music to his ears, and Matt found himself wondering how she could be so happy at this time of the day, a small "morning" escaping his lips in response. "You won't believe the dream I had."

A smile almost imperceptibly appeared on the right corner of Matt's lips, the kind of smile that only Y/N was capable of eliciting from him.

The boy turned around with Y/N's favorite mug in one hand and a small plate with flowers drawn on it in the other, both containing coffee with a dash of milk and waffles with honey, just the way his girl liked.

The brunette placed them both on the surface in front of the seat that Y/N had already designated as hers, picking up his own plate and mug before sitting down in front of her.

"Nick and I were at this different theater, and we were going to watch a horror movie, which already started out weird because we know how much he hates horror movies..." Y/N started quickly, pausing momentarily to take a bite of her waffle, a hint of honey smearing the corner of her mouth. "But the weirdest thing was that the movie wasn't horror. It only had two main characters, and they rode horses the whole time. And then, out of nowhere, they adopted a mute dog and a blind cat, which were the cutest little things I've ever seen..."

The girl kept going, her voice changing intonation with each word while her expressions moved quickly, her free hand gesturing while her other hand held her waffle tightly, taking bites from time to time.

Matt remained silent, a serious - but relaxed - expression took over his face, while his mouth slowly chewed the pieces of his own toast, nodding his head every now and then, showing to her that he was paying attention, just like everyday.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

To outsiders, the scene unfolding there seemed to be amusing.

Y/N, with a big smile on her face and yellow flowing dress surrounding her, was quickly pulling a serious-looking Matt with completely black clothes, which covered almost his entire body.

"Come on, baby! There's an ice cream cart right there." The girl repeated the information that had already been given previously, pointing enthusiastically with the index finger of her free hand at the small pastel-colored cart on the other side of the street.

"I can see that." Matt muttered, feigning annoyance, but everyone who knew them knew how much he was loving it.

"Can I get a strawberry one? Please! Oh, and which flavor will you want? I know you love the chocolate one, but it's so nice to change things up sometimes." Y/N rambled, finally approaching the cart, smiling big at the salesperson in greeting. "So?"

"You can order anything you want for me." Matt surrendered, catching the intense gleam in his girl's eyes with his response before averting his own, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, ready to just make the payment and seat on a random wooden bench, looking forward to hearing her ramble about her week.

"Good afternoon! Can I have a strawberry one and a cream one, please?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Baby, can you get me a Diet Coke? Please." Y/N briefly interrupted her conversation with Tara, looking at her boyfriend.

Matt was sitting next to Y/N on one of the couches at Tara's big 1 million party, his arms were crossed and his expression was serious - almost angry -, his eyes carried a steady gaze that circled around the people in the room, ignoring the screams and loud music, only his girl's voice echoing in his ears.

The brunette looked at her momentarily, nodding and leaning down slightly, sealing his lips on the side of her head gently before standing up, walking with firm steps towards the nearest bar.

It didn't take long, and soon the boy was returning to his previous spot, his hands balancing a can of Diet Coke and a can of Rootbeer.

His blue eyes almost instantly found the figure of his girlfriend, who was still talking to Tara, but now Nick was with them as well.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched her speak with so much passion, gesturing too much and changing her expressions too quickly.

But his own smile quickly fell when he saw a strange guy sitting in his previous seat, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch right behind Y/N's head and bringing his body closer to his girlfriend's, too close for his liking.

It was obvious that the guy knew Tara, as he immediately started talking to her, but his body language showed his interest in Y/N.

"Move. Now." Matt's serious and rude voice suddenly sounded as soon as he approached them, startling the small group. His eyes were fixed on the unknown boy, glaring at him.

His action brought small reactions from the others; Nick rolled his eyes, already used to his brother and his way of acting with everyone - except his girl. Tara raised her right eyebrow, her eyes traveling from the boy to Matt and back again.

But Y/N just smiled sincerely, ignoring the rudeness of his tone. Her eyes instantly lit up upon meeting her boyfriend and even more so upon seeing him holding her order.

"I won't repeat myself." Matt demanded, keeping his gaze steady on the guy, who quickly understood the message and got up from the couch, raising his hands in surrender before leaving.

Matt sat back down in the now empty space, handing his girl the Diet Coke before placing his arm right where the other boy's was, his fingertips caressing the exposed skin of her right shoulder.

He took advantage of Tara and Nick starting a new topic and brought his head closer to Y/N's, pressing his lips against her ear.

"You're mine, babe. Only mine."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you ready, honey?" Y/N asked as she finished fastening her necklace around her neck, her eyes fixed on the mirror next to their closet in the room she shared with Matt.

"I just... I don't know which sneakers to wear." Matt's voice sounded tired, his brow furrowed as his eyes traveled over the extensive row of sneakers he owned.

The girl turned around, approaching him while throwing her hair over her shoulders, running her hands over the light pink dress that hugged her body just right.

The two were getting ready to go to the Snapchat event that would take place in a few hours, and as usual Matt always asked his girlfriend for some tips on one of the pieces he would wear for the day.

"Wear the white and blue Jordans. I like how they look on you." Y/N opined, pointing to the indicated pair, caressing his right bicep before turning around, crossing the already open bedroom door to check if Nick and Chris were ready.

The duo was lying on the sofa, both ready and using their respective phones, just waiting for the couple.

"Finally! If I knew how to drive, I would have left you two behind." Chris grumbled, adjusting his posture on the upholstery and putting his cell in his pants pocket.

"You still didn't learn to drive properly because you're lazy and too comfortable with me just driving your ass around." Matt's voice echoed behind Y/N, his figure leaving their room and closing the door behind him, his expression straight and his eyes carrying a serious gaze.

"Oh my God, you look handsome, baby! I knew Jordan would work out just fine." Y/N ignored the small fight between them, her eyes traveling over Matt's body, admiring his clothes despite them being simple and black - as always.

Matt rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but the traces of an almost non-existent smile appearing on the right corner of his lips while his cheeks took on a red hue said otherwise.

"Oh, how handsome you are, Matt." Nick joked, imitating Y/N's voice and fawning his right hand over his face, blinking his eyes repeatedly, earning a loud laugh from Chris and an amused smile from Y/N.

"Shut the fuck up. Get moving. Now!" Matt barked back, glaring at his brothers before finally approaching his girl.

He placed his left hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her to the stairs that led them to the garage, ready to go.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @iammattswife

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repulsiveliquidation · 16 days

Text

Mikrokosmos || Grace Clinton

summary: Grace loved her little world. she didn't know if others would too.

a/n : i don't know what this is but it's fluff! there is insinuation of sex but nothing else.

Grace was a private person. She loved her people with her whole heart but she kept her work and family separate. Don’t get it wrong, she loved her team and adored being the baby but there was a bubble in her home that she didn’t want them in.

Her mikrokosmos.

There were two people in there that mattered more to her than football. She was willing to do anything at all to protect it from the outside world.

You were sitting in a quiet little bookstore one day, your little nephew in your lap. He was munching on a bit of sausage from your sausage roll as you read a little novel in a corner. The smell of coffee mixed in with the books perfectly, you found yourself sitting here every other day to relax and get some peace away from your chaotic life.

“Is this seat taken?” a Liverpool accent asks and it startles you a little. You look up and see the most beautiful pair of eyes looking down at you. The Liverpool accent smiles, pointing to the seat across from you. You stutter and nod, smiling at her awkwardly.

“He’s cute,” the accent tells you, smiling at your nephew Jake. He giggles and the accent giggles back, her hand coming up to tickle his cheek.

“Say hi Jakie,” you tell him, his hand grabbing at the girl tickling him.

“Hi Jakie, I’m Grace,” she says, cooing when his little hand finds her finger.

“He likes you,” you tell her, book and pastry forgotten.

“That makes two of us,” she says with a grin, looking up at you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here with the cutest baby in the world?”

“It’s quiet, plus he likes the strawberry tart Michelle makes.”

She turns to Jake, who’s trying to eat your blouse, to boop his nose. “You, little man,” she begins, booping his nose again; he giggles, “have great taste.”

Grace stands, eyes sparkling in your corner of the quiet bookstore cafe.

“Can I buy you another coffee and a tart for my new favorite person?”

“Only if you promise to sit here a while and share.”

“Deal.”

“Baby! I’m home!”

“Mama!”

A two year old knocks into her knees and she picks him up, heart growing fonder when his little giggle rang through the living room.

“Hi little buddy,” Grace smiles, walking into your office with Jake on her hip. He tucks his face in her neck, calming into her hold when he feels her rub his back.

“Hi baby,” you greet Grace, looking up from your desk in the corner. Your heart melts when you see Jake already falling asleep in her arms; you were struggling to put him down for his nap earlier so he was a little grumpy at tea.

Jake was your nephew but when your sister fell into some bad habits, he was about to go into the foster system. You loved him dearly and couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him so young so you made the decision to adopt him. He had always called you Mommy when he first spoke and didn’t know his mother to be his mother. She abandoned him when she got clean and wanted a new life abroad with her boyfriend so you raised him as your own.

Sure it got your weird stares since you were so young and Jake looked alot like you since his mother looked like you too. But you didn’t care, he was going to be loved and cared for under your roof, who cared about who said what.

When Grace came along, you warned her about the things you had heard people say about you. Her job would have only brought on more stress for you and her so you were prepared for her ‘i can’t do this’ speech on the second date.

But Grace surprised you with her honesty and willingness to work it out because she didn’t want to lose you and she certainly didn’t want to lose her little buddy.

Grace was young and didn’t need to deal with a practical newborn and a girl who was still getting her life in order but she didn’t care. She wanted you both and she was willing to do what it took.

One thing she did the best was protect you both from rude people and weird stares. She wasn’t afraid to call people out and make them feel bad for their behavior. It made you uncomfortable at first but when you saw that more and more people left you alone, you were grateful to her.

“Jakie here needs his nap, I think,” she says, kissing his head.

“I tried to but he refused so you’re welcome to try,” you tell her, watching as she got a cheeky grin on her face before disappearing for a while. You hear her faintly bargaining with a two year old down the hall before the only thing you hear is the traffic below and your rambling thoughts.

Seeing the time and deciding to clock out of work and start on dinner, you walk out of your office after turning everything off.

Grace isn’t in the bedroom or the living room where she usually is so you tiptoe to Jake’s room.

Grace was in his bed with him on top of her, both of them snoring just a little. Her legs stuck out from the end and her hands touched the floor but you never loved her more than you did in this very moment.

“Oh Grace,” you mumble, pulling your phone out to take a picture. You send it to your mum and make it your wallpaper before leaving the door ajar to start on dinner.

Grace walks into Lionesses training grinning at her phone. Millie T sees her and watches as the young striker types fast and doesn’t stop grinning on her phone. She sneaks up on Grace and it startles her, making her drop her phone in surprise.

“Mills!”

“Sorry Gracie, who’s got ya grinnin’ like that eh?”

“Nothin,” Grace provides, checking her phone for cracks. Millie grabs it out of her hands and runs away with it. She dodges through the rest of the girls in the gym, laughing her head off as Grace chases her.

“Mary! Stop her!”

Mary, who’s just walked in, grabs the lanky Millie and holds her tight, before Grace grabs her phone off her.

“Who’s that you’ve got on your screensaver huh? Grace has got herself a little wife, girls!”

“Shh Millie!”

“Who’s got a wife?” Tooney asks, drinking from her water bottle.

“Little Gracie does.”

“I don’t,” Grace defends, “not yet at least,” she mumbles to herself. Grace walks away from the girls who are gathering around her, putting her headphones in in hopes that they’d get the message.

Beth comes and sits beside Grace, stretching as the young United player does. The rest of the girls have gone back to warming up, Millie T standing at the weights looking a little guilty for outing her friend.

“I’m happy for you Gracie,” Beth tells her quietly after they get their boots on, leaving the girl conflicted.

Grace comes home after training exhausted. Sarina had them working hard as they had some important games coming up. The smell of your world-famous lasagna filled her senses when the front door shut behind her.

“Is that Mama I hear at the door?” she hears you tell Jake before the soft patter of feet gets louder and louder.

“Hello, love,” Grace sighs, holding Jake in one arm while snaking the other around your middle. You feel her muscles relax when your warmth blends into hers. Jake wriggles around in her arms after a while and she puts him down, watching as he goes back to his building blocks on his play mat.

“I missed you,” she mumbles, hugging you from behind as you stir the tomato sauce. Grace kisses your nape and you lean back into her a little, realizing you missed her just as much as she did.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” you tell her, both of you looking at Jake who was showing the dog what blocks he had, “we both did.”

Grace pulls out and you turn over, watching her reach for the wipes she kept in her side table.

You drag a finger over her warm skin as she cleans you both up, leaving soft kisses all over the marks she’s left on you.

Her face says something entirely different though, like there was something bothering her.

“Grace?”

“Hm?” she looks up at you and you watch those eyes you fell in love with look troubled.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“You’ve always been able to tell when something’s bothering me.”

“It’s because I know you, darling,” you say softly, sitting up and reaching for her chin to look up at you. “What’s the matter, lovely?”

“Millie saw you today,” Grace sighs, now sitting cross-legged with you. Her fingers trace along the insides of your forearms, beautiful eyes refusing to look at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Millie got my phone and saw you and Jake today.”

“Okay,” you say, taking her hand in yours. “So?”

“So? I’ve never told anyone about you two. Not even the girls.”

“Why not?”

Grace thinks, wondering what her excuse was.

All the other girls never hid their relationships.

Why did she?

“I love having you all to myself, I don’t want to share what we’ve got just yet.”

“Oh honey,” you coo, realizing where all this was coming from. “The girls will understand, Gracie.”

“I don’t want to make you feel like you need to hide who you are with them.”

“You’d never let that happen, Gracie,” you say, leaning in to kiss her soft lips. “Never.”

You stand, walking backwards into the bathroom. You’re taunting Grace, hinting at round two in the shower.

“Besides, I’d love to meet the girls who don’t know the baby has a baby.”

“Who’s that?”

“Who’s who?”

“The girl Gracie’s with,” Maya gasps “and the cutest little boy ever!”

“You wanna say hi little buddy?” Grace coos, taking Jake out of your hands before walking out towards the girls. You follow her and strike up a conversation with Beth, Lotte and Leah, watching Grace out of the corner of your eye.

The girls fawn over Jake and seemingly Sarina joins in, practice for the day delayed by about a half hour.

“This is what you’ve been hiding Grace?” Millie quips, tickling Jake a little as Mary makes faces at him.

“They’re very important to me, Mills.”

“I get that,” she nods, “I’m happy for you Grace. Thank you for sharing them with us.”

You’re sitting in the stands with Jake, watching as his eyes light up when Grace shows off her skills. He becomes a little fussy at nap time and Sarina, to your surprise, takes him from you and holds him the entire hour he naps on her shoulder while you do some work on your laptop.

At the end of training, Grace hops the barriers to get to you. The girls have already come over and taken Jake to the locker room, his giggling makes your heart grow fonder of the girls you’ve watched on tv for years and heard stories about.

“I think that was a successful day in the office, don’t you think?” Grace says tiredly, sitting beside you.

“Mhm, it was,” you turn and face Grace, her perfect smile on her face when your eyes lock with hers. “The girls love Jake and it’s clear they love you. Thank you for letting them into our little world. I’d love to share more of it with them.”

“I think they’d like that.”

“Jake! I am utterly heartbroken that you said she was your favorite!”

“HA! I told you he liked me better!”

“FUCK OFF LOTTE!”

“Leah! Language around the baby!”

“PWUCK!”

“Oh no.”

#grace clinton #grace clinton x reader #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #man utd women #man utd women x reader #woso fluff

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urhoneycombwitch · 9 months

Text

I know what they call you.

You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you. shy!reader

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous. Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

wc: 11k

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

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annwrites · 1 month

Text

a call to arms. part one.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: desperate to provide aid to your starving family due to the blockade, you venture, along with a great many other lowborns, to dragonstone, in hopes of gaining something—anything—which you might bring back to them; something to fill your little sister's belly.

things turn out quite the opposite as planned, as what you now believe to be a mad queen, locks all of you in her dragonpit, and you're forced to run, hide, & fend for your lives against two hungry dragons.

in the end, only two individuals are left standing: hugh hammer, who has now claimed for himself vermithor...and you—chosen by silverwing.

just when you believe things can't possibly get any worse, you then meet prince jacaerys.

— word count: 1,674

— a/n: do i have a fuck-ton of other fics & stuff to work on? idk, bc we are not going to talk about it. ok? <3

— tagging list: @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @emilynissangtr

He grinds his teeth together, filled with utter contempt—disgust—that whatever you are—bastards, lowborns, flea-ridden rats—are now, above all else, dragonriders.

And he is meant to share common spaces with you now? Such as the Great Hall? Meant to pass you in the halls and tolerate the sight of you?

To ride alongside you?

To treat you with...what? Kindness? Generosity for having 'come to his mother's aid'? He will most certainly not be treating, nor addressing you as an equal. Either of you.

To be a dragonrider...it is a sacred bond. And now he is meant to believe that even the lowest scum Flea Bottom has to offer has the same right as he to sail the skies, unleashing fire and blood upon the enemy?

Never.

He will never.

The rest of them got what they deserved for thinking they had any right to claim that which is meant only for those like him.

Queens and kings, princes and princesses, lords and ladies alike.

He is better than both of you.

Even if he is similar in ways he does not want to admit...

Boots echo against stone floors, dark curls falling over dark eyes, a brooding temperament within.

Jacaerys emerges into the Great Hall, Hugh promptly rising from his seat, bowing his head. "My Prince."

Jacaerys studies him for but a moment, briefly judging the plain-colored clothes he dons, before turning his sights across the room to you, who is seated between two stained-glass windows, arms wrapped around your bent knees, while you cast your attentions outward, instead of on him.

Your Prince.

Your superior.

He clenches his jaw at the sight of your long, silver hair that moonlight casts in an ethereal glow, making it appear as if it is sparkling. Cascading down your back like molten silver in soft waves.

"You there—girl—do you know how incredibly rude it is for you not to stand and curtsy when in the presence of royalty?"

You jolt—torn from tormented memories of but a couple days past; of people running, screaming for mercy. Dying choking on their own blood as dragonfire burns them alive.

None of you had anticipated—had imagined—that the very queen you were coming to, under the guise of offering your aid to in the war, would lock you in a room to be eaten by terrifying beasts.

Aegon deserves the throne in comparison to such a monster.

You have made a great mistake, mayhaps. Then again, becoming a dragonrider has already filled your belly, provided you with clean sheets to sleep upon, a guard outside your door, hot baths.

But it is not you who needs these things. You want them for your family.

There is no turning back now, however. You knew as much with certainty when that silver dragon laid her head at your feet before leaning forward, brushing her warm snout against your abdomen while you struggled to contain your bladder and bowels. While you sobbed hysterically, begging for mercy from a being that you do not so much as share a common language with.

You know not a word of High Valyrian, though you will now be expected to learn, you suppose.

Among many other things. Such as how to ride the animal...

Your stomach twists nervously at the thought.

You turn away from the window, slide off the ledge, then grab your skirts in either of your hands before tucking a foot behind your other ankle, bowing. "My Prince."

He scoffs, coming closer. "That was the worst curtsy I've ever seen."

You fold your hands in front of you, keeping your eyes downcast. "Forgive me, My Prince, it is...the first time I've attempted one."

He rolls his eyes, settling his arms behind his back before glancing over his shoulder to Hugh, jerking his head toward the hall he's just come from, and he quickly makes himself scarce.

He looks back to you.

"And what is your name?" He demands.

"Y/N," you state quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You are to look at me while we're speaking. Do you understand?"

You nod, trailing your eyes upwards—over a red-and-black velvet tunic, the three-headed symbol of his house embroidered upon the breast—until they're looking into hues of chocolate-brown.

He clenches his hands into tight fists behind his back.

You've every trademark of a pure Targaryen: silver hair, lilac eyes—with flecks of violet—skin so fair it's near-translucent, delicate features.

He fucking loathes you for every asset which you possess and he does not.

He would never—will never—state it aloud, but you look far more Targaryen than he ever will.

He wishes one of the dragons had taken you down its gullet as well. That way, he would not be forced to suffer the nigh-daily sight of you now.

He looks you over, circling you like a dragon does its prey—desperate to find something he may use to mock you with; some imperfection—before standing tall before you again.

"You think wearing rags before your Queen's court appropriate?"

Your expression quickly settles into a scowl.

Good, he thinks. Give him an excuse to introduce you to the Queen's justice. He is silently begging you for as much within his malice-filled gaze.

Your small hands clench into fists at your slender sides. "My mother made this dress for me."

His jaw ticks. "From now on, you will wear more suitable clothing when outside your private chambers—which means conservative in nature; not whatever men found desirable upon the Street of Silk. You are a representative of our house now. A dragonrider. A soldier to our cause. You will look the part."

Tears sting your eyes as yours bore into his own hatefully.

"I am not a whore," you reply contemptuously.

There is a beat of silence, his brows furrowing slightly. Surely you are lying. You have the look—more than.

And then you continue.

"And with what coin, My Prince?" You sneer.

He takes a step closer, causing you to shuffle backward, catching yourself against the window-ledge, the stone digging into your palms as you grip it to steady yourself.

He leans in close—your faces mere inches apart. "I beg your pardon?"

You do not shrink away from him.

Gods, you already hate him with all that you are.

"I came here for coin. Desperate for—"

"So greed is what sent you? Not to aid us in winning back my mother's throne? Her rightful seat. You come to steal away a dragon, and then what?"

"My family is starving!" You finally shout, at the end of your rope from the last few sleepless nights that've been filled with nightmares instead of rest; your temper having reached its limit. "My mother and little sister both! How would you feel if it were you? If your loved-ones were suffering, while all you could do is sit back and watch them waste away before you? So, yes, I came. I claimed a dragon—even if my intentions had only been merely to host audience with a clement queen who would provide aid to her suffering subjects. Not burn them alive for coming to help her!"

He grits his teeth. "You will watch your tongue, you insolent little wench. My mother sent boat-fulls of food to King's Landing. She has provided—"

You begin to laugh, with a lack of humor behind it all, cutting him off. "Oh, yes, how very kind of her to give aid to the very subjects she is responsible for the suffering of in the first place. The blockade is all your all's fault! People were fighting like dogs in the streets—assaulting—killing each other for a small sack of grain! I risked mine own life for a peck of potatoes! That's it! Even then, I was forced to wrestle a full-grown man off myself to get it. I was fortunate to escape with my life—with any food to speak of for my struggles!"

You step forward, forcing his royal highness to take a step back, and he swallows thickly.

"You've never known hunger a day in your life, have you? Never known what is it to wear 'rags' while you don your silk and velvet, while you sleep on thousand-thread count sheets, while you flout your jewels, and your fancy titles, and your gilded castles while the rest of us bow and scrape before your feet for a mere morsel of respect! You are meant to take care of us!"

Once you've finished, your heart pounds in your ears, your shoulders rapidly rise and fall, and it's then that you notice Prince Jacaerys' hand is tightly gripping the pommel of his sword—his knuckles having now gone white from the force.

Your eyes flit back to his, tears filling your own. "And I am meant to one day call you king, given we are 'successful' in our endeavors to win your mother back her glorified chair," you say, spitting the final word at him.

The two of you stand tall before the other, refusing to be the first one to break—your chins held high, even if your stomach is now twisting painfully into knots while your bowels turn to water.

If he puts you to death for your unimaginable disobedience—your disrespect...who will help your family then?

Your little sister... Your little girl.

She became as much when your mother went away in herself after your father's passing. It did not matter that you were still a mere child yourself when it happened. She became your responsibility to look after and tend to from that day forward.

And now...you feel as if you have failed her.

"Go to your room," he orders lowly, his body shaking from anger, brief pauses between each word.

You curtsy one last time.

"My Prince," you mumble, brushing past him, wanting to break something.

He stalks off in the opposite direction, feeling much the same: wanting to burn something—or, rather, someone—alive.

#fic: hotd (jacaerys velaryon x reader)#jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys fanfiction #hotd x y/n #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction

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b14augrana · 1 month

Text

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Everything is still inconclusive

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 4 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion.

A/N: part 3 is here! i was flat out of ideas for a good week or so but i’m actually really happy with this chapter and how much i managed to write. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

Vicky invited you to her home to talk.

“Just around this corner,” she said, pointing to a street. She was sitting in the passenger seat of your car while your siblings sat in the backseat. Vicky still lived with her parents, as you expected, because she was still too young to buy a place of her own. It was a nice house, situated in a neighbourhood just a few minutes outside the city centre, and once you had parked your car, you hesitated for a moment.

“Are you sure your mum isn’t going to mind? It’s late, we can always talk tomorrow,” you spoke, looking at her for a moment. She shook her head, opening her door and responding as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “She’s fine with it, don’t worry. Let’s go inside.”

You unbuckled your own seatbelt and stepped out of the car, your siblings doing the same. Magdalene clutched your shirt gently while the other two boys walked behind you.

The front door of Vicky’s house had little stained glass details that you admired for the short moment that you stayed outside. The door swung open when Vicky knocked on it gently, and behind it was a woman that bore a striking resemblance to the girl beside you.

“Mamá, this is (Y/N),” Vicky said, gesturing to you. You smiled shyly, and the woman returned it with a much wider smile. “Bona nit! Please, come in, it’s freezing out there,” she replied, ushering you and your siblings inside. She was right, it was chilly outside, and the warmth of the López household was nice.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as she directed you to the living room. You shook your head, but she insisted on making you a cup of tea, and the appeal of a warm beverage was too much to resist. After a few minutes, she brought two cups of tea out to the living room for you and Vicky, then placed them on the coffee table. “Graciés, Mrs. López,” you spoke.

You sat down on the couch, the warm mug of tea in your hand as you faced the girl. “So, what do you need to talk about?” Vicky asked, and you took a deep breath before telling her.

“Something happened, Vicky. My neighbour heard some noises from my house and thought one of us was getting hurt, so she called the police and–”

You paused for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose as prepared to tell the rest of the story. It was like reliving it all over again; the currents of fear that overwhelmed you, the unsettling atmosphere of the interrogation room, all of it.

“They told me that they’re going to place my siblings in a foster home unless I become their legal guardian — which I can’t do in time — or find someone I know to foster them. They suggested my father but…” you shrugged, hoping that Vicky would catch on, and by the understanding look on her face, she did.

“I don’t know what to do– who do I even ask?”

You didn’t want to cry, but you knew it was inevitable. You had spent the day processing probably the worst news of your life, without shedding a tear. You deserved to cry. One tear quivered in your waterline before you blinked, and it was gone.

“Why are they getting taken away?” she asked.

“Social welfare thinks they’re unsafe as long as they’re under my mum’s care because she’s got a drinking problem and my dad is out of the picture. I’m not their legal guardian so I don’t have much of a say. Can’t really afford a lawyer yet either,” you explained.

Vicky paused for a moment, staring at the coffee table as she was deep in thought, and then she spoke.

“(Y/N), I know you two don’t have the best relationship, but I think you should ask Alexia.”

You almost spat out your tea in her face, and it showed in your suddenly very wide eyes. Vicky was quick to place her mug down and raise her hands in defence.

“Wait, wait! Before you say no, just remember that she is your captain,” she explained, justifying herself.

“Dios mío, that’s got to be the stupidest shit I’ve heard all week,” you mumbled, putting your head in your hands.

Vicky frowned, pushing you gently to grab your attention again. “I know she doesn’t treat you very well, but she can help you.”

You tapped your nail against the mug, considering the option. You had a very strained relationship with Alexia, and honestly, you highly doubted that she’d want to foster and risk compromising her career for something as stupid as a few kids that weren’t even hers.

“I don’t think so. She won’t have time,” was your final verdict. You didn't perceive Alexia as the type of person interested in motherhood… but, there was one thing.

All your siblings loved football just as much as you. It'd be easy for Alexia to relate to them, because they were like her; their eyes lit up at every beginning of a conversation relating to football, they were immersed in the world of FC Barcelona and always present for your matches and celebrations. They fought to wear their blaugrana jerseys to school and blaugrana scarves in the summer.

Your hand found itself fumbling with the charm bracelet on your other wrist, the initials ‘M’, ‘D’ and ‘L’ dangling from the delicate chain. Alexia would've loved your siblings, because they were the Barça-loving, unconditionally supportive children that she imagined when she thought of having kids.

“Don’t mention it to anyone, please.” Your voice was quiet, because Magdalene had fallen asleep beside you, curled up into a ball with her head resting on a cushion. The boys were just barely awake on the other side of the couch, closing their eyes for a quick moment before opening them again in an attempt to stay awake.

Vicky nodded, but that was it. Not many words were said afterwards, until her mother asked whether you’d like to stay the night. Too tired to disagree, you mumbled a little ‘please’, and she directed you to the guest bedroom.

The three of them slept on the bed that night. You made yourself a bed on the floor, out of cushions from the living room in which you put your Barça sweater over it as a makeshift pillowcase to ease the rough feeling of the original material on your cheek, and Vicky lent you a few spare blankets.

Magdalene wanted to try sleeping on the floor with you, but after a while you felt her leave your side and get into bed with her brothers.

She was little, they all were, but their presence was bigger than life itself, and laying there with Magda tucked in your arms reminded you of what it used to be like before. When you used to keep the abandoned shopping carts close so you could put all three of them inside at night and ride down the streets to the local restaurant, then you’d treat them to a big serving of their favourite foods and the night would end with you receiving three big hugs from the tiniest humans.

Life was simple before.

You called alcohol ‘big drink’ when you were young, because only big people could drink it. You didn’t know why, but soon your Mami started getting upset more and more, after she had some big drink. It only took a few lash outs for you to get caught in the crossfire and vow to never become like Mami.

You’ve tried it a couple times here and there, and it tasted like shit. You couldn’t understand your mother for choosing that bitter concoction over happiness but soon, you figured out that when all else failed for her, it was her happiness. Her kids were seen as secondary, if you were lucky.

A light suddenly illuminated the room, and that’s when you realised your phone was buzzing. A number flashed across the screen, but you stayed idle, not reaching for it. You watched the contact disappear before a text appeared, and you read it through slightly squinted eyes still trying to adjust to the light.

+34 ### ### #####

→ We’ve gotten a hold of your father and he has agreed to attend a meeting at 9 a.m. Please call or text back immediately if you’re available.

You should’ve responded. Instead, you stared at the message until the screen went black again, and even then you kept staring in the same direction until there was nothing. The next time you opened them, it was morning, and you were facing the bottom of the bed.

Magda, Dani, and Enzo were still asleep. Peering just above the mattress, you could see them piled on top of each other as they slept.

The ‘bed’ you made on the floor felt more comfortable than ever, making you reluctant to move. With a tap on the screen, your phone lit up and revealed the time to be just past 8:30.

Your hand flopped back down and you stared at the ceiling. Everything was perfect for a couple seconds, as you forgot about the need for the day to proceed and only recognised the serenity of being in that room right now, with the people you loved most.

Everything was perfect.

“We’ll wait five more minutes and if she isn’t here by then, you’re free to leave, señor.”

The man only gave a small nod in reply, otherwise his attention was almost entirely fixed on the little sliver of blue sky that was visible from the tiny window.

Five minutes flew by. The talks of getting ready to leave started up, but they were short lived when everyone was stunned back into their seats by the door suddenly swinging open. It clicked shut as a chair scraped across the floor.

“Sorry, traffic was bad,” you mumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

“How nice of you to join us, Miss (Y/L/N),” the social worker said, and it sounded like she was feigning politeness. You acknowledged her words with a quiet hum.

“Señor, since you are the only other legal guardian of Magdalene, Dani, and Lorenzo, we’ve sought you out as a possible option for a full time caregiver of the children,” she spoke, clasping her hands together and placing them on the table.

Your father pursed his lips, nodding along with her words, “I see.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea, and I’m saying this before you waste more of our time,” you interrupted, pointedly refusing to even look at him.

“Why not? I’m their father, (Y/N), and I’m also yours, so–”

“You didn’t want them then, so I doubt you’d want them now. Don’t say you’ll take care of them to make yourself look good and then mistreat them because they’re not on par with your other kids,” you hissed, finally meeting his gaze with a stone cold glare.

The social worker across the table didn’t intervene, though she initially jolted forwards with the intention. She settled back into her chair and observed, looking to discover the true nature of your adamance to not let your father take your siblings.

Regret flashed across his face, and it was obvious; you noticed it in the downwards twitch of his lips and the shameful lowering of his gaze as you spoke.

“They’re still my children. It’s my job as their father to look after them,” he responded.

“So where were you all these years, when Mamá was drinking her body weight in alcohol? You left us! You are not their father and you haven’t been ever since you left us.” Your fist hit the table, the noise echoing through the room. The grimace on your face was only the surface level of the disgust you felt in that very moment.

“‘My job as their father…’ my fucking ass. I was more of a father to them than you, at 16 years old! I did your job better than you before I was even 18, and you have the nerve to come here and say that they’re still your children?”

His head was hung in shame as you chided him, and he still had nothing to say.

“I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it,” you almost yelled, jumping up from your chair. It skidded along the ground with a screech, and your fingers pressed at your temples.

You hated him so much, but standing there and yelling at him made you realise how much you missed him while he was still your father, before the cheating and abandonment. “You ruined Mamá’s life by putting your own needs before us, and I hope you’re proud. Have as many new kids with your new wife as you want, but you only destroy everything you touch.”

You hoped your words reflected the years of pain and torment he had inflicted on your family. You lost not one but two parents, because your mother loved him so much and he only took advantage of it while it benefited him before he decided it wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t a single word or phrase that could convey the inexplicable feelings you felt just then. He’d have to search for it in the flushed apples of your cheeks, your glossy bloodshot scleras, and tightly furled fists tensed up at your sides.

“(Y/N), mi carita…” he started, standing up. You took a big step back, your hand finding the door knob with a steady grip.

“Just leave and don’t come back. I don’t want to see you ever again, never ever!”

With those words, you were 13 again, standing behind the corner and listening to your mum say the exact same thing to your dad.

Back then, when you two argued, you couldn’t hold his gaze without crying, but now you were. He was nothing in your eyes if not the smallest man who’s ever lived. You made sure to give him your most withering glare so he knew that there was no point.

In his eyes, you were probably the furthest you had ever been from his daughter. The loving and energetic girl he watched grow up, was now eye-to-eye with him in a police station, refusing to allow him any entry into his kids’ lives.

“Don’t give them false hope,” you sneered, wrenching the door open before deliberately slamming it behind you.

Maybe, just maybe, Alexia wasn’t such a bad idea. Yes, she was passionate about football and didn’t take it very well when people didn’t display the same amount of passion for the sport as she did, but that only meant that when she loved something, she loved it hard and with all her being. She could love your siblings. She could love them more than anyone, even their own blood.

You sought to get out of the police station and away from it as a whole, so as you stormed out of the building and sunk into the driver’s seat of your car, you had no specific place in mind.

You ended up at the Barceloneta beach. There weren’t many other places you could think to go to; the pitch was out of the question, because wherever there was a ball and a goal, there was Alexia. Your house was a huge memorabilia museum for the past, and you couldn’t show up to Vicky’s house out of the blue.

The beach was pretty, and you always loved going there. Nothing could spoil that for you.

Just the horizon and ebbing tide for company while you watched the sun slowly descend — it was what you needed.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Part of you didn’t want to pull it out in case it turned out to be someone you didn’t like wasting your time, but you pulled it out anyways. Thankfully, it was only Vicky.

She sent you a photo from earlier that morning, and it featured all three of your siblings fast asleep on the guest bed while you slept on the floor in your comfy cluster of blankets. She followed the photo up with two laughing faces, and then two more messages.

Vicky

→ 🤣🤣

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Hermanos y hermanas

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Come sleep over again (Y/N)!!! My Mamá found the Uno cards 😉

You smiled at the photo and saved it to your camera roll before you considered Vicky’s request. You took a moment, but eventually you responded.

(Y/N)

→ vale vale 🥲 i’m picking la hermanos y hermana right now and then i’ll come straight to your house. graciés vicky ❤️

You watched the sun set further during the drive to the schools, and then again while you drove to Vicky’s. This time, you parked in the driveway, and you didn’t feel dreadful entering her house.

You rang the doorbell and the four of you waited patiently. Mrs. López was quick to rush to the door and open it.

“Hi, I hope we’re not bothering y–” you started, but you were cut off.

“(Y/N), mío querido! Come in, come in, you’re not a bother at all. You’re always welcome in our home,” she said, embracing you tightly with a warm smile.

Vicky appeared from the living room, shuffling a deck of cards in her hands. “Who wants to play Uno?” she asked, waving the cards in her hand and immediately receiving a positive reaction from your siblings, who bolted towards her eagerly.

You followed them, because though you knew they were getting taken to their foster home tomorrow and being stripped away from you, you wanted to enjoy the night and play Uno with your siblings.

Nothing’s for sure but right now. You couldn’t waste this moment.

#ad astra per aspera #fc barcelona femeni #fcb femení #woso #woso community #fcb femení x reader #fcbfemeni #woso angst #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #fcb femeni #fc barcelona x reader

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sanesuki · 2 months

Text

Morning Routine

Slightly Aged Up AU | From being childhood friends to being third years in UA High School… she never would’ve expected her life would revolve around waking up next to Katsuki Bakugo. The boy she’s known since she was small. Yet here she is, next to an unexpectedly soft boy whose goal is now, not only to be the number one hero. But to be her hero.

(Additional extra funny scene at the end including Bakusquad + Todoroki)

No Manga Spoilers :)

Katsuki Bakugo X Y/N

Word Count : 1.9k (extra scene is another 1.9k)

Incase you don’t know what this term means :

Y/N = Your Name

————————————————

“What are you smiling at?” He grumbles, turning to face you as you laid on his dorm bed, his fingers brushing your arm. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there with you, he was supposed to be training with the idiots in the ‘Bakusquad’ — instead, he chose to be with you. He often trained alone but now the morons wanted to tag along, mainly just trying to have him buy them ice cream after their jog. He was supposed to meet them an hour ago.

Katsuki Bakugo actually ignored his morning training for some girl. What has the world come to.

Her gentle eyes meet those gorgeous pools of red. Pure red. Like gemstones. Oh how she loved his eyes, “I’m just happy” she says in a mumble followed shortly by a soft hum. She won’t ever get over waking up with him in the mornings. Sneaking into his dorm late at night despite it being against the rules.

His bed was different then hers. Warmer. Inviting. Or maybe it was him. Whenever she tries snuggling against his chest, he sighs and holds her. In the beginning he protested, spouting off about how he’s not the mushy type. As time went on, he never won that argument. So eventually, he gave up and ended up holding her every time she came over and slid into his bed. It developed into a habit.

Now he can’t seem to let her go, his personal pillow. While he’s her personal heater. His quirk makes his body warmer than others.

“Whatever” he sighed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he practically pulled you on top of him. On top of his body as she’s sprawled over him. His fingers tracing along your skin in gentle circles.

“They’re gonna be wondering where I was, y’know..” he mumbled, burying his face into your neck and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. Her scent mixed in with the scent of his body wash. To which she used to shower last night.

“They’ll live… it’s not a crime for you to miss a morning jog” she says as she peppers gentle kisses on his cheeks. If she did this months ago he would be awkwardly stiff as she showered him with physical affection. Now being 3rd years in UA, he’s accepted her gentle touches.

“Mm, maybe not, but it certainly does raise some eyebrows,” he mumbled, his head tilting to catch your lips on his. He leaned up to kiss you properly, his hand gripping your hip to keep you in place. He had a point — the last thing the two of you needed right now was people getting suspicious of whatever was going on between you two.

But she can't help but be a bit selfish, wanting him for herself. How can she help it when he’s so perfect?

Her eyes flutter close as his lips meet hers. He’s such a feisty person, yet his touches are always so gentle. The two started dating at the beginning of their second year at UA.

After the war, everything changed. Y/N and Bakugo have known eachother since they were little yet this romance between them has only ever developed since they entered UA. She got a front row seat at how he slowly changed for the better. How he genuinely tried getting past his own insecurities yet staying true to himself. He was still the little grumpy boy she always knew yet this version of him has learned to accept his shortcomings and evolve from them.

After some time Y/N started developing a small crush on the boy. Though she pushed it down. It seemed his goal of becoming the number one hero was his main priority. No room for any distractions like romance. Despite that, the impending war changed everything. She seeked him out before they left to the frontlines, and told him to be safe. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire as she looked at him. Originally she planned to confess. But him being Bakugo he cut her off unknowingly.

—FLASHBACK—

“Oi, what are you stuttering about? Spit it out dumbass” he huffed out getting slightly annoyed by her sudden nervous expression.

“K-Kacchan I just… um….” her heart thumped loud in her ears as she looked at his eyes. So red and pretty. She took a deep breath and was about to go for it when-

“Everyone go with your groups and get ready! We’re about to start!”

Y/N quickly looks at Bakugo about to say something when he looks down at her and rolls his eyes, “tell me after we win this, stupid. Now cmon we’re on the same team with the nerd.”

Back then he didn’t realize what he felt for her was different from the others. Katsuki Bakugo was never meant to fall in love. He didn’t see the deal of romance. His goal was to be the number one hero. That’s all he dreamed of…. right?

So when he saw Y/N, get hit by one of Shigarakis' attacks. Causing her to fall down on the ground with a loud thud, blood soaking her hero outfit from her abdomen. Best Jeanist quickly tries to stop the bleeding as she struggles to keep her eyes open. He almost felt like everything went into slow motion.

“She’s out of commission! No way she’ll stand up anymore…” Best Jeanist says out loud to those around with sorrow in his voice.

Memories of her and him playing together at the playground flooded his mind. Them two in middle school when she defended Deku from his bullying. The betrayal he left that day. The two had a falling out until they entered UA. Her presence since they were little was always strong. Slowly he accepted her back into his life as time went on in their first year of UA. Still extra harsh to her compared to the others but she seemed to be used to it. Towards the start of winter, his demeanor with her slowly softened. Progressing into occasional headpats and pinching of her cheeks.

As she fell unconscious on the battlefield, that’s when he knew. He cared for her more than the others. That being the number one hero would be for nothing, if he didn’t have her by his side. That’s what fueled him to keep fighting til the end.

After the war ended, Y/N and Katsuki stumbled upon each other in the empty hallway of the hospital. It was late at night, neither able to sleep apparently. They walked together to the hospital gardens under the big Sakura tree surrounded by tall hedges. The moonlight peeking between the shuffling leaves. That’s when she finally confessed to him. Went on about how much she wants to stay by his side. She started nervously babbling nonsense, her fingers fidgety and her eyes darting to the floor. He rolled his eyes and leaned down, hooking a finger under her chin to make her look up at him. Shutting her up with a gentle kiss on the lips. Since that day, they’ve been together ever since.

—END OF FLASHBACK—

She smiles as the blonde barely pulls his lips away from her, giving her a quick final peck then letting his head fall back against the pillow. Still holding her close to his chest. Out of curiosity, she looks at the clock on his nightstand. Seeing the red bright digits read 8:30 AM, displayed on the alarm clock. Realization dawns upon her and she quickly looks down at Bakugo. Whose eyes are still roaming across her facial features.

“Katsuki it’s 8:30!” she states quickly like it’s a life or death situation. “We have to go down and have breakfast!”

“And I should care because….?” he replies back with his usual gruff expression.

“Oh cmon there’s pancakes and if we don’t get down there then Kirishima and the others are bound to finish them!!!!”

Bakugo groaned again, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “God damn it,” he mumbled, still not wanting to move. “M’tired from last night and I wanna stay in bed.”

“Cmon cmon get up! Say do you have any of my clothes from last time I slept over? I would go to my room but Mina might spot me” she smiles looking down at him.

“Yeah, might be in that dresser,” he said, gesturing to the top drawer in the dresser next to the mirror. “You always leave something behind when you stay over so that drawer is where I put all of the stuff you left overtime. I also bought you some stuff you may need if you're ever here and need something. It’s your drawer from now on.”

“Ah I see, my own little space in your room…” she says with a brighter expression. She would be lying if she didn’t say that made her heart clench with joy. She looks in it and spots the organized little sections. Some old clothes she’s left behind that are neatly folded along with occasional jewelry she left here by accident. He even put some of her makeup in here that she forgot to take with her back to her room. Y/N feels a warm sensation fill her body when she sees some hygiene products he must’ve bought. Some tampons and pads. Ibuprofen. A heating pad.

She smiles to herself thinking about him going out of his way to get her menstrual products just in case she ever needed them. Despite his tough exterior, he never judged her for these things.

God she loves him.

Despite not wanting to get out of bed, Bakugo laid there and watched you change with a smile on her face. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you. His eyes traced your figure, even though he’d seen your body plenty of times before. There’s never a day he gets bored from watching you.

She spots him from the mirror and smiles softly “you're staring…” she says in a gentle mumble.

“How can I not, you're my girlfriend” He says straight faced in response with his gruff voice, sitting up and leaning against the pillows. “C’mere for a second.”

She hums in response and finishes changing, “what is it?” she says as she walks over.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer until you were in between his legs. He grabbed the edge of your shirt, pulling you closer and resting his forehead against your chest. “Just let me have a few more minutes, before we have to get up and deal with those idiots.”

She smiles at his words and wraps her arms around him.

He grumbles into your chest. “Hate that we gotta hide this from the others, pisses me off.” He pulled you down to sit in his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Staying in that position for a few minutes til Y/N spoke up, “c'mon we have to go ‘suki.”

“Fine,” he groaned, his hands moving to rest on your hips. “You get going first, I’ll wait five minutes and then follow after you.”

She smiles and nods, unable to stop admiring his face. He’s so pretty. She sighs and pecks his lips, unable to resist, “I love you.”

It took him a moment but… “Love you, too” he hummed, his hand snaking up the back of your neck and into your hair, holding you close for another kiss. “Now get going before I’m tempted to keep you here all day.”

She giggles and is on her feet as she exits his room. Before she decides to stay in bed with him after all.

Y/N is not usually a morning person but maybe she is now.

—ADDITIONAL SCENE BELOW FOR LAUGHS & GIGGLES—

Bakugo let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed. He opened the nightstand drawer, grabbing some fresh boxers and a pair of jeans, along with a clean shirt. After changing into them, he grabbed a brush and ran it through his hair, trying to tame some of the bedhead.

Once he was good enough, he left his dorm and began walking down to the dining hall of the dorms.

“About time you decided to show up,” Sero snickers at Bakugo, as he rolled his eyes already annoyed. “You didn’t show up for the morning jog! And now you're late for breakfast? How long does it take for one person to get ready?”

Kirishima chimed in with a remark of his own. “Maybe he was too busy sleeping in!! Even bakubro has those days it seems” he said, snickering.

“More like too lazy to get out of bed if you ask me!” Kirishima added with a laugh.

“I was not you idiots!” Bakugo grumbled in reply, looking slightly annoyed. He sat down in the seat beside Y/N, his arm brushing against your thigh under the table. To which she just smiles silently eating her pancakes.

As they all ate their breakfast, a couple of the guys continued to take this opportunity to tease Bakugo about being late as he’s always been an early bird.

After some time Y/N stands up intending to go to the kitchen to get some pastries that Sato made last night. “Hey, does anyone want any pastries?” She says out loud as she looks at the group.

The guys all nodded in response, as you walk to the kitchen, Bakugo watches you leave before shifting his gaze to the group. His eyes snap towards Kirishima as it looked like he was going to help you, “it’s so unmanly to have Y/N bring everything over I’ll go help-“

“I’ll go,” Bakugo says as he interrupts kirishima. Already on his feet getting up from his seat.

“Wow, so manly bakubro!” Kirishima says as he sheds fake tears and wipes them away like a proud dad. Sero and Kaminari couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Shut it shitty hair! Only because Y/N is a klutz and will trip before she makes it back to the table with the pastries…” he huffs out, turning away to walk to the kitchen.

Once he was in the kitchen he looked over to you, Y/N grabbed a plate and started thinking about which pastries they'd like. Katsuki stepped closer behind you, his chest pressing against your back. He spoke gruff as always next to your ear, his breath warm against your skin, “They all like dark chocolate so just get them those.”

“Someone will see if you're standing so close,” she warns him softly as she starts putting chocolate pastries on the plate with a smile.

“Let them see…” he mumbled against your skin, moving his head down to the nape of your neck.

Y/N notices some avocado and shrimp on the cutting board, “oh looks like someone was going to make a shrimp mocktail of some sort” she comments as she keeps grabbing pastries. Bakugo hummed in acknowledgment but he was a bit distracted.

He could still smell his body wash on her, making him think of last night's activities. He couldn’t resist and placed a kiss against the side, his hands coming around you to cage you in. His voice was low, in an almost whisper “Oi after school-“

*The door creaks open*

Bakugos eyes narrow a bit, as he glances over at where Todoroki was walking in the kitchen towards them.

“Damn it… why does Icy-hot have such bad timing?” he grumbled, reluctantly slipping his hands off your hips and taking a small step back.

“Good Morning Todoroki!” Y/N says with a gentle smile. To which Todoroki gave a small “morning Y/N”. He looked between the two of you with a hint of curiosity, noticing Bakugo standing a bit too close, his hands shoved in his pockets. Before he could question, however, the other three idiots came into the kitchen.

“Found you guys!!” Kaminari yelled extremely loud, practically bouncing over to the counter.

“Wah-“ Y/N says, jumping a bit and stumbling with the plate at the sudden noise.

“Oi-“ Bakugo immediately moved behind you to catch you, hands grabbing your hips to steady you.

“Careful-“ he huffed, holding you steady. Giving a death glare to Kaminari which almost made him pee his pants right then and there.

“Ah thank you Kat- Kacchan” she quickly corrects herself, reminded that they’re not alone, she looks up at him smiling. Bakugo simply grunts and looks away to not cause suspicion.

Kaminari spoke up as he looked at Bakugo, who still had his hands on your hips. “I see that you’ve… taken an interest in helping Y/N with the desserts, Bakugo..” he coos and teases.

The guys all notice Bakugo being a bit too close to you. Both of you suddenly back away from one another.

“What was that all about..?” Todoroki comments, eyeing you both carefully like he’s studying the two.

“Uh it’s because…” her mind quickly goes into overdrive and she yells out the first thing she thought of before they catch on “Ew do you guys smell that?! Kaminari farted!”

Everyone looks at Kaminari, who looks completely appalled by the accusation. “Wha- hey!! I didn’t fart!!”

Bakugo wants to roll his eyes at her lame excuse but holds back. He lazily points at the wall “Oi what’s that over there?”

The group all looks over at where he’s pointing but sees nothing. “Huh? What do you mean bakugo?” Sero says confused and looking for something that’s not there.

“Right there you idiots! It’s a roach!” Bakugo says, trying to distract them.

Sero and Kirishima screech in disgust and hide behind Todoroki. “A roach?! Where?!” Kirishima says panicked. Sero groans and holds onto Todorokis sleeve “that’s so gross dude!’

Todoroki, being stoic as ever, goes to the wall to investigate, “I’ll check it out..” he says monotone as usual.

“Wow Todoroki is so manly!” Kirishima says looking at Todoroki with sparkles in his eyes like he’s a superhero.

“No kidding!” Sero says as he and Kirishima cheer for Todoroki from afar.

Meanwhile Kaminari stays in place being a scaredy cat, “no way I’m going over there! I hate bugs!”

“There’s no roach Bakugo…. Maybe you're seeing things” Todoroki said calmly, inspecting every nook and cranny.

Y/N sees the shrimp from earlier on the cutting board and takes it suddenly getting an idea, she starts waving it around quickly near kaminaris back. Then quickly draping a nearby towel over the cutting board.

“Hah?! I know what I saw half and half!” Bakugo says grumbling trying to play it cool. As they’re all distracted looking at the corner for the bug, Bakugo uses this opportunity to use his quirk to cause a mini explosion to happen near Kaminaris rear. The sound caught everyone’s attention and they looked at kaminaris direction.

The guys are about to question what that noise was when they gasp, suddenly assaulted by the stench of something odd like smoke and shrimp mixed together.

“Ugh- who the hell let loose in here!?” Kirishima groaned, covering his nose.

Todoroki covers his nose silently, obviously in distress from the scent.

“Ugh what was that!” Y/N adds on trying to act oblivious as she fake gags to play it off.

“It’s coming from Kaminari!” Sero gags and waves his hand around to get rid of the smell.

Bakugo lets out a scoff, trying to hold back a smirk. “Of course it is. Only he would stink up the whole damn kitchen like this!”

“What?! It wasn’t me!” Kaminari yells out, waving his hands around trying to deny the claims.

Everyone was gagging at the stench, looking at Kaminari with disgust. Todoroki tried to look unaffected but he coughed softly, he tried to make Kaminari feel better. In a stoic voice he says “It’s okay kaminari…. it’s normal-“

“What on earth did you eat last night to produce something so foul!!” Sero interjects whining.

“It wasn’t me!” Kaminari tries to defend himself.

“Ugh it’s in the air! C'mon let’s get back to the dining room” Kirishima says, covering his nose.

The guys and Y/N are all quick to agree, not wanting to inhale the stench. All of them hurry away, leaving a sputtering Kaminari behind as he insists that he didn’t pass gas. The group sits back down at the table, still complaining about the bad stench. Bakugo, however, gives you a subtle look as everyone is distracted. He silently mouths “good one”, his voice inaudible, with a smirk on his face. Y/N bites back her tongue to suppress a laugh that wanted to escape her lips so bad.

Kirishima sighs, still trying to get the stench out of his nose. “Seriously, I can’t believe one of us can produce something so bad. It’s like a skunk took up residence at the table.”

As Kaminari returns to the table with a pout, Sero gives him a deadpan look. “Please. Spare us the pouting. That stench was you and you know it.”

Kaminari huffs and slumps down in his chair. “Damnit..! Why are you all pinning this on me!? I already told you that I didn’t fart!!”

Kirishima tries to pat his head in a comforting manner. “C’mon, Kaminari, who else could that possibly be coming from? It smelled like something died inside you…!”

Todoroki looked at Kaminari giving him a genuine concerned look which made Bakugo want to laugh so hard he had to look away. “Kaminari….. I suggest you go see a doctor. It's for your own good. I could give you an appointment with my private doctor” he says in a stoic manner. Kirishima and Sero gave Kaminari an encouraging slap on the back.

“Yeah man…. I think that’s for the best” Sero says, giving Kaminari a loopy grin. Kirishima is still whining, “I can still smell it…..”

Kaminari whines and shoos them all away “it wasn’t me I swear-“

“It was dunce face, end of story. Now all of you eat your pastries, we got class soon," Bakugo says grumbling. He glances at Y/N and gives her a subtle nod of the head. To which Y/N smiles and looks at Kaminari who’s still babbling to defend himself.

Mina comes down all smiles as she waves to the small group and heads to the kitchen “Morning Guys! Sheesh I’m hungry-“

“Don’t go in there!!!!!!” Kirishima and Sero yell out to Mina dramatically.

“What in the world are you two on about this time..” Mina shakes her head thinking their pulling one of their shenanigans again. She goes to open the door but pauses when Todoroki puts his hand on Mina’s shoulder to stop her. Giving her a stoic but concerned look and simply shaking his head no.

Mina looks bewildered and takes a look at everyone at the table. Who all look like they’ve been through a war, “what in the world happened in the kitchen?!”

“Dunce Face farted and if you go in there it’s a death wish” Bakugo grunts out all serious and playing into the lie.

“Dude……” Mina looks at Kaminari and shakes her head in disapproval.

Kaminari whines loudly “IT WASN’T MEEEEEEE!”

Y/N couldn’t hold it in and bursted out laughing, the others started laughing alongside her. All the while Kaminari went all day trying to convince everyone he wasn’t the one guilty.

A typical day at UA……. is certainly something.

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traveler-at-heart · 3 months

Text

Hot To Go

Summary: You're horny and Natasha's teasing you. That's pretty much it!

Also, I've been telling you all to listen to Chappell Roan since last year so if you haven't, DO IT NOW.

Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Hopeless.

That’s how you feel as you walk back to the Compound, hot and bothered. The plan is to go straight to your room, but Wanda’s in the living room reading her book.

“Did you have fu…?” she says as soon as you walk in.

“Nope” you don’t let her finish, plopping next to her on the couch.

“What…”

“Garden gnomes”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific”

“We were having dinner, she invited me over for coffee. And when I went inside her apartment, I was met with at least fifty figures of garden gnomes”

“Like… decoration?”

“Like pets, according to her” you rub your eyes, trying to erase the image from your mind. “I was willing to maybe ignore it… until I went to her room and there were a dozen more”

“So? Just turn off the light” Wanda says, with a neutral expression. As if she’s not hearing the weirdest fucking thing on the planet right now.

“No, she said we should leave it on because they’re scared of the dark”

That finally breaks her and she lets out a loud laugh.

“Not funny” you throw a cushion towards her and she catches it.

It’s been four months since you’ve gotten laid. Not like you can’t handle a dry spell, but for some reason -perhaps the stress of work and missions- you’ve been particularly… needy. But everytime you go on a date, it ends in disaster.

“I should join a convent” you groan, your head resting on the back of the couch as you look at the ceiling.

“Nice, surrounded by other women. Maybe then you’ll get lucky”

“Not funny” you repeat, defeated.

“What about…?”

“Don’t” you stop her before she can even begin. You don’t need to look at Wanda to know what she’s about to say.

“I’m just saying…”

“Not another…”

“Natasha”

“…word. Damn it, Wanda. That has never been an option”

“You’re being stupid” she says and you roll your eyes, getting up from the couch.

“Gotta go and take matters into my own hands”

“Gross”

Wanda makes a face and you laugh, the both of you too distracted to notice someone else on the doorway, listening intently to the conversation.

—

Movie night is the perfect distraction, or so you think.

Since you’re all fidgety and restless, you opt for the couch in the back of the room, holding a bucket of popcorn against your chest.

The boys have settled on Atomic Blonde, with Bucky commenting the inaccuracies of the film portraying the Cold War.

His banter with Sam is enough to distract you for a little while, but then you turn back to the screen and sink in your seat.

There are two women making out, a hand going down the other one’s panties…

“Enjoying the movie?” a sultry voice whispers against your ear.

“N-Nat” you hold the bucket closer against your chest, trying to even your breathing. Where did she come from? You were sure she was skipping movie night today.

“That’s my name” she says, somehow even closer to you. Your eyes are fixed on the screen, but every other sense is registering the redhead’s presence. Her smell, the way her lips are almost touching your ear…

There’s moaning, and panting and the women on screen are kissing.

You’re about to combust, there’s no doubt in your mind.

“Use your words, pretty girl” Natasha whispers and you whimper.

“It’s a good… great movie” you manage to say, gulping.

Natasha’s hand moves forward and you’re hipnotized by those slender fingers, grabbing some popcorn out of the bucket and placing it slowly in her mouth.

“Catch you later?”

All you can do is nod dumbly, feeling the heat rising to your ears.

As soon as she walks out the living room, you stand up, sprinting to your bedroom.

“Pizza just got here” Tony calls after you.

“I’m not hungry” you lie, shutting the door behind you.

Not for food, at least.

—

It’s been two days since movie night and Natasha’s the same. So you figure your horny mind blew the interaction out of proportion.

Which is fine, because right now you can’t be distracted.

“On your knees” Natasha commands and you almost faint.

“I… what?”

As part of your quarterly evaluation, you have to take physical and psychological tests to stay on the team.

The sparring part was usually done by Steve, so you were shocked to find Natasha as soon as you walked in.

“Say you’re wounded and can’t stand up. How are you going to fight back?” Natasha walks in circles around you, and you kneel as she requested. “Ready?”

You don’t have time to answer and in a matter of seconds she’s disarmed you, her hand squeezing your troath and her body on top of yours.

It takes everything in your power not to moan.

Natasha releases you and goes at it again, and again, and again. The fighting stances change, but ultimately, you always end up against the mat, her body close to yours, feeling her hot breath against your skin.

“Tired?” she says, straddling your hips. You don’t trust in your voice, so all you do is nod. “Fine, we’re done”

Natasha lifts herself from you, but you miss the contact immediately.

“Want some help getting up?” she offers when you stay on the ground.

“I just need a minute”

Your muscles are sore, your heart is beating out of your chest and the redness that invades your cheeks and ears won’t disappear.

You’re fucked. And not in the way you’d like to be.

—

Nothing un-sexier than chores.

As you walk down the hallway, you knock on the doors of some of your teammates, asking if they have dirty clothes to add to your load.

The last door is Natasha’s and you pray she’s not in her room.

“Hi, detka” she smiles as soon as she sees you.

“Dirty…” you stutter like a moron.

“What’s that?”

“Dirty clothes. I’m doing laundry but it’s not a lot. I could put some of your clothes if you need it”

“Thank you. Give me a second” Natasha takes your basket inside and comes back a second later. “Oh, I almost forgot this one” she says when you turn to leave.

“Sure, go ahead…”

The last thing you’re expecting is to see her undressing in the doorway, throwing her SHIELD t-shirt and yoga pants your way.

Natasha is standing in black underwear, staring back at you with a smirk.

“I’ll… I better go” you turn around, colliding against the door. You curse under your breath, aware that Natasha hasn’t closed the door, most likely to see if you turn around one last time.

Using other chores to distract you does the trick for a little while, but then you go back and pull the clothes out of the dryer.

Without thinking, you begin to fold them. That is, until your hands lift a lace thong that is most definitely not yours.

“Oh, great heavens” you drop it, feeling like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. People wear lingerie, it’s a normal, beautiful, hot thing to do…

But if you find more like that one, you’re gonna combust. instead, you separate your clothes from hers without paying much attention to what’s in your hands. Once it’s done, you go back and knock on her door.

Thankfully, this time she’s wearing a hoodie and leggings.

“Here” you present the basket with clothes, avoiding her eyes. Natasha thanks you and you sigh with relief, walking back to your room.

“Oh, did you happen to see a red lacy bra?”

Damn it.

“Uh… I didn’t like check each thing you put in there, Nat”

“Red, unclasps on the front, has lace that only covers the nipples”

You actually have to lean against the wall, sure that your knees will buckle any minute now.

“Nope. I would remember”

“Alright then” and as if she hadn’t just melted your brain, she smiles and speaks in the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard. “Thank you”

Thank you. That image is forever imprinted in my brain.

—

How did you end up here?

Milk was all you wanted. When you mentioned you were going to the store, Natasha was quick to offer a ride.

If you had know it was on her motorcycle, you’d have politely declined.

Because, now you have your hands around her midsection, and everytime Natasha lowers her hands at a stop sign, she brushes your thighs delicately.

On the way back, there’s a particularly nasty bump on the road which makes you jump on your seat. As a result, your face sinks in Natasha’s kneck. Not for the first time, you notice the lavender smell and softness of her beautiful red hair. Comforted by her closeness, you practically melt against her. To your horror, a soft moan escapes your lips.

How you wish she hadn’t heard it, but by the way her movements falter, it’s clear she did.

Mortified, you jump the minute she parks, thanking her and disappearing in the elevator.

“Shitshitshit” you mutter, running across the living room, still carrying the bottle of milk. Wanda leans forward, intrigued by the force with which you lock your door. It all makes sense when Natasha comes in, looking for you.

“Again?” the Sokovian says, throwing a pillow towards Natasha.

“What?”

“You’ve been teasing her for weeks. It’s not funny” Wanda glares, making Natasha uncomfortable. If anyone can throw her across the room, it’s Wanda.

“Well, maybe now I will be considered an option” Natasha tries to defend herself, though it comes off as a lame excuse.

Wanda takes a second, trying to understand the meaning behind those words.

Your conversation about that date and the gnomes and Natasha… she was listening.

“That’s what this is about?!” Wanda grabs another cushion and throws it at the redhead, making sure that it hits extra hard with a whisp of red magic. “She didn’t mean you’re not an option. You are her first choice. Because. She. Has. A. Crush. On. You”

Each word is accentuated with a new wave of magic that is harmless, but enough to make Natasha jump.

“Oh” is all she says when Wanda stops.

“Fix it. Every time you tease her those thoughts get very loud, and it’s hard to ignore them”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what she’s thinking” Natasha tries to hide her smirk.

“Who say her thoughts were the loud ones, Romanoff?”

—

As luck would have it, you couldn’t hide from Natasha much longer.

Duty called and you were placed on a mission together. You had to infiltrate the VIP room of a bar/strip club the Russian mafia owned.

The setup was fairly simple. Natasha would go inside the VIP room while you stayed outside to alert her of anything unusual. So, at least you wouldn’t have to be around each other for long. It was hard to keep sinful thought at bay when she was dressed to the nines, hoping to dash the bouncer and get access to the reserved area.

You look around the street where the main entrance is, hoping Ivanov wouldn’t get here before Natasha was granted access.

“I couldn’t get past the bouncer” her voice interrupted your thoughts.

“What do we do now?”

“Maybe there’s a way to break into the room…”

“Apparently the only women allowed in the VIP area are dancers. Pigs” she mutters bitterly.

“I might have an idea” you say, following a girl in high heels that enters through a staff door. You sneak up right behind her and walk down a hallway. At the end of it, you find a room full of makeup, mirrors and girls in skimpy outfits.

Oh, God.

“Y/N?” Natasha presses through the comms.

“Looks like I’m a dancer now”

“Absolutely not. Where are you? I’m calling this mission off now”

“Come on, Nat. I’ll just pick an outfit, and hope they’ll let me in”

As you go around some clothes that you hope are clean, Natasha remains quiet. The least revealing outfit is a black leather mini skirt and a heart shaped top.

You are busy inspecting your reflection on the mirror when she breaks the silence.

“I don’t like this”

You don’t like it either, truth be told.

“I’m walking towards the bar. What’s your location?” there is no answer and for a moment you worry Natasha was caught. “Nat?” you insist, speaking louder as the music makes it hard to listen.

“I see you” is all she says. You look around, until your eyes meet hers. Natasha’s intense glare makes you falter, feeling as if you are naked in the middle of a room full of strangers.

“You look…”

“He’s here” you interrupt, looking behind her. “Ivanov”

The mobster leans on the railway that’s above Natasha and you, inspecting with a satisfied smirk the crowd dancing and drinking.

“Nat, you’re gonna have to trust me” you plead, walking towards her as your eyes meet Ivanov’s.

You approach the woman, swaying your hips to the beat of the music. A group of men move aside, enjoying the show that is most definitely not for them.

Sitting on Natasha’s lap, you pull her closer by the collar of her shirt, hands going down her stomach all the way to the belt loop of her pants.

Ignoring the heat that creeps up your cheeks, you take a shot of tequila from the waiter walking by you, placing the slice of lime on Natasha’s mouth. You down the shot in one swift motion and then connect your lips with hers, taking the slice from her mouth.

“Come to the VIP area” a man appears behind you, pulling you away from Natasha. The woman is quick to stop him, a hand on his arm.

“Don’t” you warn her, because causing a scene won’t do you any good. You walk behind the man, looking around as you’re finally granted access to the VIP area.

To your surprise, there’s a second, more private room where Ivanov and all of his criminals gather around. He laughs when he sees you walk inside, patting the space next to him.

“Nice show out there” he says with a thick Russian accent. “How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough for me” you say, hoping his attention will go back to the conversation happening with the rest of the men.

Sure enough, they begin to argue and you take the opportunity to lean forward and plant the bug on the table.

“For you” a bartender appears out of nowhere, making you flinch. “You’re gonna need it for later”

“That’s definitely spiked” Natasha comments. Her voice brings you back to reality.

“Cheers” is all you say.

You wait around for a while longer, until one of the bodyguards asks you to follow him to another room. To your horror, he locks you inside.

“Natasha, extraction” you plead, looking around the room for a way out. No answer. “Nat, please come in”

You hear a commotion outside, and look around for a weapon or anything that will help you defend yourself.

“I told you I didn’t like this” Natasha says when she opens the door and you sigh with relief. “To be clear, I’m talking about the situation. Not the outfit”

“Nat…” you breathe, happy that she came back for you. The woman approaches you, inspecting your face.

“Are you ok? Did you take the drink?”

“Obviously not”

“Fine. Let’s go” she grabs your hand and as you walk past the VIP room, you find all of Ivanov’s men knocked unconscious.

“Aww, all of this for me?” you joke, your hand going to your chest.

Natasha doesn’t answer, keeping a tight grip on your hand as you escape the strip club. You think she might be upset because you put the both of you at risk.

Until you’re out on the street and she pushes you against the wall, her body trapping you in place.

“I really wanted to do this nicely” her eyes drift to your cleavage and the look of pure lust drives you forward, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. “Go out with me” she says when you break apart.

“Dressed like this or…?” you joke, biting your lip.

“No, I’d like to be the only one enjoying this view”

“Ok” you laugh. She’s about to lean forward again when you hear a couple of men running around, probably looking for you. “We should go” Natasha complains and you kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m definitely gonna need help to take this clothes off”

“Let’s go” she says, looking around the street before pulling you to the car that you parked hours ago.

“Your room or mine?”

“Which one is farthest away from Wanda?” Natasha says, buckling her seatbelt and turning on the car.

“What?”

“Trust me, it’s for everyone’s own good. Your thoughts aren’t the only thing that will get very loud”

You laugh as she speeds back to the Compound.

At last, you were about to get lucky, with the girl of your dreams no less.

#natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x You #Natasha Romanoff x y/n

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