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joelmillergirl · 4 months

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Don’t Hate You- Joel Miller

An enemies to lovers story.

Word count: 3,298

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, one spank, rougher sex, slight degrading, oral (m receiving) hate sex, but they actually don’t hate each other!

Author’s Note: Love a good enemies to lovers. I did not proofread because I was ashamed!! :D

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

He was your neighbour; an interesting concept after 20 odd years of being alone with no sense of community. The apocalypse had torn through the world, separating friends from foe and dividing humanity into crushed pieces.

And then there was Jackson.

Jackson was small when you first showed up, bloody and beaten, tired of fighting. There were about 20 people at that time, all working hard to fix up the old town they had taken residence in. Maria had taken you in without any thought, allowing you to be someone after years of just living as another being, untrusting and rough, a shell of who you once were.

Five years later, you, along with the town, had blossomed. Buildings were now as new as they could be, with the resources the townspeople could find. Jackson had a bar, a laundrette, a clothes and a grocery store; things that had been hard to adjust to because your brain had been hardwired to live a certain way, were now able to just relax.

Slowly but surely, you were able to build yourself up into the personality you had before everything fell apart. A nicer, happier version of yourself. You knew everyone in town, always being greeted when you stepped out your door, they called you Honey.

“Sweet as honey, you are.” Eugene had said to you, an older man who had fought alongside Tommy in the fireflies.

The latter man scoffed, “Not to me, always teasin’ me, makin’ fun of me.”

You smile at him, “Chin up, Tommy. Someone has to keep that ego of yours in check.”

Every face in that town you could put a name to, until one day you couldn’t. Two new faces, one gruff with a frown, and the other smiley with her mouth constantly moving. You learned of their names; Joel, and Ellie. Before you could get the chance to introduce yourself, they had left.

“Where’s your brother? And the girl?” You hesitantly asked Tommy one day, raising the glass of whisky to your lips.

He shook his head once, downing his drink in one go, “Just needs to get something done. He’ll be back.”

Tommy's short reply had irked you more than it should have. Everyone in town was talking about the mystery man with his mystery kid; who were they? How long would they be away? You wish you knew the answer.

A few months later, you awoke to a distinctive voice; Tommy, yelling orders right outside your bedroom window. You tried to endure it for a while, a pillow placed over your head in an attempt to muffle the echo of his voice, but that proved to be a fail.

Thin cardigan around your body, fluffiest socks you could find, and a frown on your face, you move down the stairs in your house, muttering to yourself angrily. "Tommy!" You call out, gently closing your front door.

Tommy looked up with a guilty expression, "I'm sorry, I know-"

"It is the crack of dawn, you better have a good reason why I'm hearing your voice so early!" You finish, standing by the edge of your fence, arms crossed against your chest.

A third voice. A man stepping out of your neighbouring house. "Sorry, Ma'am, Tommy was just helpin' us settle in."

He was unapologetically handsome. Simply wearing jeans and a short sleeved shirt, with one expression plastered across his face at all times. Joel. You hated how at the sight of him, your arms unfolded from your body, hated how you couldn't really find yourself to be angry anymore.

You shift on your feet, cheeks flushing pink, "You're back."

Tommy raised his eyebrow, eyes moving between the two of you, "Honey, this is Joel, my brother, and your new neighbour."

Joel nodded in your direction, looking at you curiously. You shake your head softly, "Keep it down, Tommy." Your eyes move over to his brother, "Welcome to Jackson."

Then you were moving, back into the comfort of your own house where you slapped yourself in the face, embarrassment bubbling its way inside of you.

Two days later, you felt bad. Your bad impression with Joel replayed in your head endlessly, so bad that you had avoided going outside whenever you could hear voices next door. It was later when you knocked on their door, now in more appropriate clothes and with a clearer mind.

If he was shocked you were standing outside his door, he didn't show it, you spoke straight away. "I just wanted to properly introduce myself, I know you mustn't think too fondly of me." You give him your name along with a small smile.

Joel watched silently as you rambled an apology, only offering a small grunt and a nod of his head before closing the door in your face. You stood there for a moment, taking in what had just occurred. The rejection stung slightly, your inability to make amends with him weighing down on your shoulders. You hated how small that made you feel, hated how much you yearned for him to say something, just so you could hear his voice in that low, Southern drawl.

Tommy couldn't understand why your face soured whenever Joel's name was brought up, or why your fists clenched after watching his brother talk with other people. Why Joel seemed to talk to everyone except for you. Tommy sat in front of you in the booth at the bar, waiting for an opportunity to finally figure out what he had been suspecting. His eyes locked onto someone behind you and before you could ask, he was already calling out. “Joel! C'mere."

Your eyes widened slightly as you sat up straighter, kicking Tommy's leg under the table. You heard his boots stop next to you, his presence looming over the table you were leaning on. Tommy nodded his head slightly at you, "How're you guys gettin' along as neighbours? Haven't gotten any complaints yet, so must be goin' well."

Joel stayed quiet for a moment, eyes glancing over to you for a split second, "'S fine. Nice house you put me in."

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head with a smile, "Wasn't asking about the house, brother. You guys good?"

Joel looked down at you, eyes flickering down your face and to your hands that rest on the wooden table. “We’re good. She’s uh…” He paused, seemingly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “She’s a good neighbour.” He confirmed, suddenly looking everywhere but you and his brother.

Tommy smiled triumphantly, looking at you again. “Honey? He a good neighbour?”

You look at him unimpressed, feeling uncomfortable to be put in such a position, and furthermore the sight of Joel tapping his fingers against the table impatiently from the corner of your eye, made you feel angry. Unnecessarily so.

“Actually, Tommy, no. He’s not a good neighbour. He’s a dick. Always… slamming his gate when he gets back from night patrols.” You breathe out deeply, feeling the brothers’ gazes on you as you looked away. “I needa head back, I’ll see you Tommy.”

You hastily make your way out, “Oh god, why did I say that?” You whisper to yourself, embarrassment coursing through your body.

Three days after that incident , you had managed to avoid Joel like he was the plague; more than how you used to ignore him. His little girl, Ellie had approached you a few times, mocking your silence and asking why you didn't get along with the oldest Miller. You couldn't say that it was because how unnecessarily hot his accent was, or how he liked to wear tighter shirts that made your skin crawl with need, so you shrugged.

On the fourth day of ignoring Joel Miller, you had lost your streak.

It was later in the evening, everyone was either crowded in the dining hall, or in the comfort of their own homes, everyone but you. The winter coat you had on was not doing you justice, the freezing wind managing to slip through the small cracks, touching your skin. Although, you could barely call it a coat, material so worn and thin you would've been better in a long-sleeve shirt. You had been walking for a few minutes, nose pink, when you heard your name being called behind you.

"What the hell are you doin, wearing this in the middle of winter?" None other than Joel Miller scolded, grabbing you by the arm when he was close enough to. "You suicidal, woman?"

"Charming." You responded, trying so hard to ignore the warmth he provided by holding your arm. "Just walking, don't see the problem."

Joel scoffed, looking genuinely annoyed, "Don't see the pro-..." He trailed off for a moment, "You're going to freeze. And given our unpleasant history, I'll probably be blamed for your death."

Not waiting for a response, he started to pull you behind him, making a beeline for his house. You stuttered out, trying to object, "Joel, I'm perfectly capable of walking back to my house."

"Don't want you going back to your house. Need to talk with you." He shortly responded, ignoring your tugging. Once he had opened his door and you could feel the heat emitting from his house, you had settled slightly, but still shot Joel a glance as you entered.

"Go sit by the fire." He ordered, walking off into his kitchen, "Fuckin' hell." He mumbled.

You scowl at his back, debating with yourself for a second before deciding to follow his orders, sitting yourself down on the floor in front of the hot embers. You moan out in relief, shuffling a bit closer before turning your head to the side, watching Joel frown as he poured something in two mugs.

"Coffee." He grunted, walking over and placing the mug in your hands before sitting down on the chair next to you, sported with his own cup. "Drink it."

The mug helped you warm up faster, the heat reaching your fingertips and moving up your hands. "Prefer tea." You shortly respond, taking the drink up to your lips.

A moment of silence commenced before either of you talked again. Joel sighed deeply, and you saw from the corner of your eye his hand resting over his face, "Why're you so difficult?"

His words sunk into your brain. You scoffed, "I'm difficult?"

"Yes. You are."

You place the mug down beside you, looking into the flames for a moment. "I tried making amends with you, Joel. Tried being nice."

His silence fuelled your frustration. "Talking and smiling to everyone but me... Because I, what? I scolded your brother for being loud?" You continue, shaking your head.

Joel didn't talk, he didn't move. Only when he was sure you were finished talking did he speak. "You did try bein' nice... And uh... God, I hate this." He paused, taking a deep breath, "Didn't think it was a good idea for us to be nice. To talk."

"What?" You asked, turning to look at him, "You didn't think it was a good idea? That makes no sense, Joel. If you just don't like me, say that, don't try making up all these excuses!"

His eyebrows furrowed, he too had abandoned his mug onto the side table next to him. "Not makin' any excuses."

You laugh shortly, "Okay, Joel. I'll leave you then, get outta your hair... Seeming as this,' You gesture to the both of you, "Is not a good idea."

As you stood, Joel quickly followed, grabbing onto your shoulder to stop you from running. "I knew it would be a bad idea because the second I laid my eyes on you, you had me wrapped around your finger. Fuckin'," He took a breath, looking away from you for a moment, "Can't get you out of my head, you're everywhere."

"I don't..." You frown, looking up at him, your uneven breathing matching his, "I don't understand."

"I can't stay away from you, I can't do it anymore." He confessed, letting go of your shoulder, instead running his hands through his hair. "You don't even know what you do to me."

You watch him for a moment, trying to rationalise your feelings, "So, you... You act like a dick, and ignore me, shut doors in my face, and now I'm finding out it's because you can't stay away from me? That's so stupid!"

His neck was flushed, the pink hue travelling down to his chest, you forced yourself to keep your eyes on his face. He looked borderline desperate now as he stepped closer, "Tell me to stop, I will. If... If you let me have you, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

"How did we go from hating each other to this?" You ask, eyes flickering over his face.

Joel shook his head gently, his hands moving up to touch your neck, fingers ghosting your skin. "Didn't really hate each other. Did we?"

"Hated you. You're arrogant." You whisper, taking off your thin jacket, a shirt on underneath.

"Keep goin'." He nodded, frowning at your choice in clothing.

His fingers moved on his own accord, moving down to the bottom of your shirt, tugging on it. "You slammed your door shut in my face." You continue, pulling the shirt off your body and throwing it on the floor.

"Like an ass." He agreed, his eyes taking in your upper half, hungrily staring at the bra you were wearing.

As if in a trance, you pulled your pants off yourself, "Just wanted to apologise to you for my bad impression." You tell him, now standing in your underwear in front oh his clothed self.

Joel nodded, his breath intaking as he looked at you, "Didn't care what you were sayin' that morning, baby. Comin'. out in that singlet of yours, tiny shorts. You thought that cardigan was gonna help ya? Was hopin' you'd yell at Tommy all day."

Your pussy clenched at his words, a gush of heat travelling upwards. "I was rude to you in the bar the other day... In front of Tommy." You confess, kneeling down in front of him, your face now in line with his growing bulge still restrained in his jeans.

"Yeah, baby." Joel agreed, "Had to listen to him lecture me for an hour." He reached down and moved your hair out of your face, looking deeply into your eyes.

His zipper was down before he could blink, quickly helping you pull down his pants, his boxers following soon after. His cock was big, bigger than you had expected it to be. Its red head was dripping with pre come, falling down the sides of him. Your hand experimentally wrapped around him, seeing how much you'd be able to take, only to find that your hand was not able to close properly.

"It's big, I know." Joel hummed, his cock twitching in your hands, "You can take it."

Your hands began moving after he spoke to you, making sure to squeeze down on him. His head fell back in pleasure, a groan releasing from his throat. After a few minutes of slowly jerking him off, you brought your head closer to his tip, carefully wrapping your lips around him. At the added pleasure, Joel looked down, letting out a whimper.

"Fuck, feel so good." He told you, scrunching his eyebrows together, "Look so good." He added, his hand coming down to hold your cheek.

With new profound confidence, you moved your head faster, making sure to match the speed with your hand. His moans grew louder, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head, fisting some of your hair. "Alright, alright." Joel quickly said, pulling your head off his cock, now topped with the glisten of your saliva.

"Need it." You whisper, using his hand to help yourself up, tugging down your underwear before helping Joel out of his shirt. You look up at him expectedly, legs clenching together.

Joel looked down at the sight, mockingly sighing, "You wet, baby? Need me to take care of ya, huh?" He gently grabbed your hand pulling you behind him as he approached his couch. You watched as he sat down, spreading his legs widely, a sight that was truly sinful.

He gestured to his lap, and you took the hint. Climbing onto him, you didn't break eye contact, your chest pressed against his as you looked into his eyes. "Here." He whispered, reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra, peeling it away from your body. "God, you're..." He sighed, leaning back against the couch as he stared at your breasts, "You're gorgeous."

"Still hate you." You mumble, leaning up with your hands on his shoulders. He gripped his cock from under you, dragging the tip across your clit and down your pussy.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking up at your face as he placed himself up near your entrance, your legs already shaking with need. Your arousal dripped down the side of his dick, fluids mixing together. "Doesn't feel like you hate me."

You shook your head, moving downwards gently, just far enough that the tip of him slipped inside you. You both groan. "I do hate you." You try and convince him, taking him further inside you with every second that passed. When your ass met his thighs, you moaned out loudly, tilting your head backwards. "Feel so deep."

Joel smiled lazily, pressing his hand against your abdomen, "Right up here. Go on, show me how much ya hate me. Fuck it all outta ya." He slurred, his accent becoming more pronounced the further he lost himself inside you. You started with small grinds, getting your body used to the intrusion first, shaky breaths and pants falling from your mouth as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair.

He helped you bounce after, his large hands on your ass, pulling you up and down on his dick, roughly meeting those movements with his own thrusts below. Once he was confident you had found your rhythm, he leant back, watching. "Still hate me?" He shakily asked, his hands moving from your breasts down to your clit, rubbing slow circles there.

"No." You cry out, moving your body forwards so you were laying on him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. "Please." You beg, although you weren't sure of what.

Joel wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as his hips drive faster up into you. The sounds of your skin colliding echoing through his house, aiding in the pleasure you were feeling. Joel grunted in your ear, one of his hands coming down onto your ass, slapping it. "Gonna cum, baby. Come on, need to feel it."

You lean up slightly, chest heaving against his. "So close." You whisper, leaning your forehead against his. The sensation of his hands roaming your body, the feeling of his cock pistoning up into you, and your own need for him fuelled your orgasm. Just as you started clenching around him, Joel moved his head up, catching your lips in a kiss before his own orgasm escaped him. You came together, legs shaking and breaths coming out hot as you kissed.

Somehow, the kiss felt more intense than the mind-blowing sex you had just had, the intimacy of it had your heart clenching. "Don't hate you." You sighed, pulling away from his lips. "Hated how you made me feel. Wanted you so bad."

He nodded. "I know, baby. Me too."

As they dressed themselves and sat with each other by the fire, discovering new emotions and sensations with one another the rest of Jackson had continued moving around them, acting like another day; though your life would now be irrevocably changed.

#joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel smut #joel x reader #tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou smut

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jonnywaistcoat · 7 months

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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

#writing advice #rambling #first drafts #gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster #feel like ive a ways to go yet #horror journeyman maybe

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gisellecnz · 2 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

💌 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Teen!Gojo Satoru x Teen!fem!reader

💌 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The most worst thing Gojo never wanted to happen became true. But after meeting the new transferee, all his problems went away.

💌 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Highschool 2009 jjk, Gojo being sad after the Geto incident, Reader is a transferee from Kyoto Jujutsu high, Reader is a 2nd year and Gojo is a 3rd year, fluff, slight angst

💌 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Might actually consider making this into a series... From Gojo meeting you for the first till you both are married and have children AACKKKK. Also, if you're wondering why it's not 2006, the year where gojo and Geto separated happened during 2009 and they were 3rd years

💌 𝐖𝐂: 1.4k

2009 — 2 days after Gojo and Geto separated.

That sickening feeling of regret gripped Satoru as he sat down on the rough, stoned surface of the stairs outside Jujutsu high. He tried to reminisce the moments he had shared with his one and only, best friend Suguru Geto. He hoped that it would relieve his feeling of remorse after the incident. But instead, it made him feel worse. So worse that it made him feel more empty–an emptiness that was sinking deeper and deeper into the dark. He's the strongest, but why couldn't he save his loved ones? He just wishes that he had the ability to rewind the time.

EVERYONE knew that the two bestfriends were inseperable. Yet, was what so important to Satoru had been taken away from him.

Not until......

"Yo, Satoru, are you okay?" Shoko asked as she was approaching the white-haired man, who seemed depressed. Who did nothing but just stared at the ground while sitting on the stairs. It was rare to see Satoru in this state—His usual joyful and playful attitude replaced by a quiet demeanor now, made Shoko feel bad for him.

"...Yeah, I'm fine, it's just that... " He paused, not knowing what to say afterwards. He couldn't think of any excuse.

"... Don't worry, I understand." Shoko replied as she pulls out another cigarette. Searching for the lighter in her pocket.

"..Oi, Ieri-san, what do you think, am I the strongest because I'm Satoru Gojo? Or am I Satoru Gojo because I am the strongest?" He has been pondering about the same questions over and over, and still couldn't find the answer to it. But just now Shoko was too busy with her cigarette, that she didn't perceive what was Gojo was saying.

"Sorry, we're you talking to me?" Shoko puffed the smoke out of her mouth, and puts the cigarette back in to her lips.

Gojo sighs, "Well, forget it. Let's just go, that old man might start exploding by now if we go back to his class late again. " He finally stood up from the staircase as he walks together with Shoko back to class whilst watching the bright blue sky through his sunglasses.

After a few walks on the way to class, Shoko spots an unfamiliar girl who was wearing the same uniform as her, she had a pretty face. But the girl seemed puzzled of where she is right now.

Shoko taps on Gojo's shoulder, "Hey, is that the new transferee from Kyoto? I heard she's the same year as Nanami."

Gojo looked down from the sky, "Eh? Ha? What transferee? Whe–oh... " The moment he laid his eyes on you, he felt a rush of emotions. He's confused of what he is feeling. Why is his heart beating so fast? Why does his face feel hot? What? What?? You're even prettier than the model that he has as his wallpaper on his phone, just who are you?

(hey!! Waka inoue is very VERY pretty, this is just based on Gojo's perspective in my fic) (Also, think of this as the bg music of this scenario the moment gojo lays his eyes on you)

The way he is feeling right now felt so soothing and comforting, as if that emptiness he felt earlier felt like it was no longer there anymore.

He felt weird—for him, he felt like there was a connection between the two of you. His six eyes tell him that he's just crushing over you, but his soul tells otherwise. You were absolutely WAY more than that.

"Oi! Satoru! Stop daydreaming, that girl seems confused right now. We should ask her." Shoko snaps her fingers in front of Satoru's face, bringing him back to reality. "O-okay...!" His whole body tensed, and Shoko cringed at his reply.

As they approach you, your gaze met Satoru's, he feels even more tense. By now his face turned as red as a tomato.

You quickly ran towards them, feeling relieved that you finally found people that you can ask help with finding your dorm. You may have been to Jujutsu high's sister school, but this school was way different than the one in Kyoto.

"Oh thank goodness. I'm a little lost right now, but you guys must be the 3rd years. I'm [last name, first name]. I'm a transferee from Kyoto Jujutsu high. Nanami-san has told me about what you guys looked like in case I ran into you. " You said shyly.

Shoko smiles at your introduction, she knew you the both would get along well. "I'm Ieri-san, I work with healing a ton of people. And this is–" The moment Shoko points at Satoru, he scratches the back of his head, trying to avoid looking at you. Fuck, he's never acted like this in front of new people before. What were you doing to him? The only thing he could do right now is just to shyly wave his hands at you. "–Gojo. He may look stupid but he's actually really strong, he's a special grader."

Shoko went to take a look at Satoru, thinking why he was so quiet. Usually when he goes to introduce, he'd go boasting. He could even take an hour to introduce himself. The way he looks right now was so awkward–Red face, sweating, the way his eyes were avoiding to look at you, and he ONLY waved at you. Now that she has given a thought to it, mischievous thoughts filled up in her mind. She now found a new way to tease Gojo.

Upon hearing their introduction, your face lit up. They sounded really cool! You were happy to have them as your seniors. At that moment you didn't notice Gojo's awkwardness; you were more concerned about finding your dorm. But you wouldn't mind a little talk with them.

"Oh, I've heard a lot about you and your insane powers! You're really famous. I knew you were in Tokyo Jujutsu high. So when I was gonna transfer, I was looking forward to meet you." You were referring to Gojo.

When you looked up at him, his sunglasses were resting on the bridge of his nose, revealing his ice-blue eyes. His long white lashes framed them perfectly. His eyes we're sparkling like a sunlight above the rim of his glasses. You were slightly taken aback by how breathtaking his eyes looked. And he also had a well sculpted face. Now you understood why you kept hearing girls squeal about this particular guy.

After Gojo heard your comment about him, he felt like he could seriously melt at this moment. He stuttered a short "...T-thanks..." in reply. How long will he stay here talking with you? He can't take it anymore!

And it seemed like the gods heard his prayers, Shoko gave Gojo a teasing look. She pat his shoulders and told you that he wasn't really feeling well today. "Sorry, this guy kinda got a fever today. He'd go bragging about himself if he wasn't. He's gonna have to go back to his dorm right now." Shoko looked at Gojo with raising her one eyebrow up, giving him a teasing smile. It pissed Gojo off that she knew he had an instant crush on you. But anyway, she still helped him. "Gosh darn it you Shoko. "—he mumbled.

You turned to look at Gojo to see he was turning away now, a little disappointed that you guys didn't really get to talk that much.

"...Oh, I see. Get well soon then!" You yelled, but not too loudly as Gojo was about to head back to his dorm. But after all the talking, you remembered why you were here in front of Shoko—"Oh yeah. I forgot to ask something, it says my dorm is **** but I don't know where it is. Please help me find it!"

And after that, she was able to help you find your dorm, but the thing is..

*what happened after*

Satoru: "Shoko, what the fuck do I do. It's like I'm being tested, her dorm is right next to mines!!!??" he panics.

Shoko: "Looks like somebody's whipped..." *she raises both her eyebrows up and down repeatedly*

Satoru: "Oh my gosh shut up, I feel like I could melt any minute. What the heck is that woman doing to me... "

Shoko: "You were all emo and stuff earlier, now you're all giddy? She really did a huge impact on you. Aaaanddd it's the first time you were acting timid."

Satoru: "I know! When I first saw her, it felt so weird. I dont know how to explain it! It's like....weird in a good way.... "

tags: @byakuya61085 @angelsleepinggurl

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #satoru x reader #gojo satoru

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shelbgrey · 5 months

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Hey Pookie so there is this very sexy man named Mark Sloan and I was wondering if you could write some beautiful Fluffy/Smutty dating Headcanons for him PLZ

Dating Mark Sloan headcanons

Paring: Mark Sloan x Shepherd!Reader

Summary: headcanons about Mark Sloan dating Derek's little sister -SMUT warning!

💚MasterList ML2 💚Dating Mood board

You guys started fake dating... That's how it all started. He wanted to make Addison Jelouse and you just want to get back at her for hurting your brother Derek.

You had 10 rules to this plan:

NO Sex - you

Never break rule #1 - you

Be on Mark's services/work in plastics if needed -Mark

Go on dates at least twice a month to make the act look real - Mark

No kissing or touching - if you have to just kiss forehead/cheek and don't touch anything below the waist - you

No sex with nurses, Mark - it'll blow the cover - you

Be nice to my friends(I don't care if you hate interns) - you

Trust each other - mark

Don't play favorites in the hospital - includes not helping with most surgeries/patients - you

Don't fall in love with each other - you

Derek hates it at first, even during the time you guys were faking it all. “stay away from my sister” Derek snapped at mark.

“too late... We're already together”

Derek and Mark got into a fight... That ended with black eyes, bruises, and Mark needing stitches on his face.

“I'm sorry this happened” you mumbled softly as you stitched his jaw for him. He stared at you with those blue eyes you love so much. “don't worry about it”

“maybe we should stop this whole thing” you suggested, Mark shook his head. “no, we got this. Rule #8, remember?” but really he was already falling so hard for you and he wanted to keep you close as long as possible.

Spoil alert you guys broke rule #10 and fell hard for each other. Well he fell first, but you fell harder. “I want this for real... No more fake shit, I love you”

After that ordeal you figured you owed Derek an explanation. Derek never found out about the fake dating, but you need to tell him where your feeling stand. “you love him, don't you?” Derek asks.

“I do... And I trust him” you say.

“if he hurts you... Cheats on you, I'll kill him” simply Derek said and you guys moved on with your lives.

Once you guys start dating for real he faithful and his heart now belongs to you.

Even Derek gave him credit for that. During the few months of you guys actually dating, deek would keep an eye on him. A hot nurse would walk by and Mark wouldn't even look at her.

You see a different side to Mark. He stops looking at any other woman. He just looks at you.

His sweeter, gentler side is only reserved for you.

Callie is your biggest supporter. Always hyping your relationship up. Mark might go to her for relationship advice. Callie might even be a referee during arguments.

Callie is definitely your best friend. You, Mark, and her the hospital's main trio.

Double dates with Callie and Arizona or Derek and Meredith.

He needs physical contact all the time. Rather it be cuddling on bed or on the couch or holding hands in the hospital.

He's a big cuddler. Sometimes he'll just wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest without saying anything.

He's so flirty with you. No matter how many years you've been together, he still thinks you're the sexiest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Like I said, he flirts with you so much. Some times he'll come up behind you while your working and whispere suggestive comment in your ear or grab your ass.

“stop it! We're at work” you quietly scolded him after his gabered your ass. “I can't help it... You have a nice ass”

You steal his leather jacket all the time, even though it looks big on you he thinks it's hot as hell on you. Now and days the only time he sees that jacket is if your wearing it.

Dirty jokes all the time. If you hear something remotely dirty you'll whisper, “that's what she said”

If he's had a hard day, he either needs one of two things. A rough fuck or he needs to curl up beside you and cuddle.

The way he kisses you makes your heart race. He holds your face in his hands and you honestly feel like you and him are the only things that matter in the world.

But he is a rough kisser, but mostly he's a passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

He's soft with you when it comes to holding you and give affection. He's so gentle and delicate and you can tell through the way he brushes your hair from your face or the way he nuzzles his face into your neck that he just absolutely adores you.

Your is Angel and he feels so unworthy of you. He's so lucky to have you in his life and he doesn't want to screw it up.

Mark's not the jelouse type and neither are you. Dispite his man-whore past you both have a lot of trust in your relationship, but if you be-friend Jackson I think Mark would get jelouse.

Mark hates the way Jackson looks at you, Mark knows he likes you. But your completely oblivious to it because all you see is Mark.

Doggie parents at the beginning of your relationship. You brought home a rotwiler puppy home without him knowing one time.

That dog is your protector rather or not Mark is there or not. He also gets jealous of Mark and will nuzzle his way between you too if your hugging or kissing.

Sometimes you guys will get home so late from the hospital you'll just want to set on the couch and watch TV because your both sleep deprived.

You guys really don't know why or how you got into it, but you found a Chanel that shows re-runs of American Ninja Warrior and old WWE matches. You guys just stated watching them all the time.

He calls you Angel

You guys play wrestle all the time. Sometimes he'll just let you win because he loves seeing you being so happy about.

He steals the covers all the time and if you get cold you'll cuddle closer to him to get warm. He's relized this, so he'll intentionally steal the covers just to have extra cuddle time.

You get upset if he makes the interns that are on his service get him coffee or get his dry cleaning. “they aren't your servants, Mark” you say, taking the money back from the intern.

If you want Mark to do that stuff himself, you have to threaten to do it yourself. “I'll get it, I'm going that way anyway” you say and mark will quickly stop you. “no, no, I'll do it... You don't have to do that crap for me”

You guys don't fight often, but if you do it's usually a couple of days of the silent treatment. Both of you are too stubborn to say sorry or admit your wrong too.

Watching old Universal monster movies, your favorite is The Bride of Frankenstein. You even got him to dress up at the two monsters with you on Halloween one time.

If your sick he'll drop everything and take care of you, he doesn't care if he catches whatever you have he wants you comfortable and cared for.

His apartment getting the 'girlfriend touch', everything is just cleaner and more organized when you start living with him. “where's my belt?” Mark asked looking all over the bedroom floor where it used to be.

“in your dresser where it's supposed to be... And if I step on it one more time it's going in the trash”

✨Passenger princess✨

If you have a Stanley or a water bottle, whatever you drink out of, Mark will probably be drinking out of it too. You guys kiss and have sex all the time, so he doesn't care if he drinks after you.

NSFW headcanons:

He’s an expert at foreplay. He’ll spend as much time as he can trying to get you hot and bothered or worked up.

He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.

He has this mischievous kind of charm to him and he uses it to his advantage when it comes to getting your attention. He knows all your ticks and can easily get your riled up.

Mark loves bitting your neck just to hear you moan. When you finally give in to him, he'll lay you down on the couch or bed and start pealing your clothes off to reveal your chest.

He's definitely the dominant person in bed and your not complaining, he'll get rough and pound hard enough were the bed starts rocking.

The sex maybe rough, but Mark isn't not big on insults. He refuses to degrade you and will only use sweet words.

If you’re struggling to take him in or taking long to adjust, he’ll whisper reassurances that you’re doing a good job while rubbing his hands on your back and thighs.

He prefers missionary, growling in your ear while his hands grip yours above your head.

Mark also loves watching your face while you bounce up and down his dick. He loves the expressions you make when he thrusts up into you when you least expect it.

Mark just likes to lay back and just watch you ride him, he loves the feeling of your thighs and ass in his hands.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

He loves the sounds you make. The moaning, the begging, everything.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

Bondeg kink, handcuffs, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

There's also a tone of jealous sex. If he sees Alex shamelessly flirting with you expected to be tied to bed as fucks your brains out. If he sees Jackson touch you in a way thats reserved only for him you’re pinned against the wall.

There has been a couple of times Derek has walked in on you while you both are getting it on in one of the on-call rooms, it's safe to day Derek has lernd to knock.

“Mark, he literally saw it” you gasped from under mark.

He kissed your neck. “I was too busy to notice”

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

#Mark Sloan headcanons #Mark Sloan x reader #Mark Sloan imagines #Greys anatomy #Mark Sloan smut #Smut headcanons #greys anatomy headcanons #For my pookie #Mark Sloan

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lixiektty · 11 months

Text

the range — kinktober day one

word count: 3.5k (i got carried away lol)

warnings/kinks: harddom!heeseung, sexworker!heeseung, sub!reader, language, oral (m. receiving), protected sex, squirting, degradation, a little praise, fingering, spanking, pet names, dirty talk pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!

author's note: long time no see! i'm back for kinktober. i'm really trying to work on being active on here, after kinktober i hope i can accomplish just that. i hope you all enjoy my upcoming works for this month!!

you had heard about this place a few halloween's back— you hadn't expected it to reopen this year, giving you again another chance to go. the reviews were good but there was no way of seeing exactly what you should expect when going in.

all you friends pushed you to go, not that any of them had been before either, but they thought it'd help you let loose a little. you were just questioning yourself nonstop, mind switching between going and not going. you thought, maybe this could be a little fun...

tonight was halloween night, a ticket had to be bought within 24 hours of your arrival, so you rushed to your computer yesterday morning and bought one for yourself. you dressed up in a strapless tight leather dress, fishnets hugging your legs. it was basic, yes, but you looked hot, and your besties thought so too when you sent a picture to the groupchat.

walking into the attraction had your heart racing. the main area to scan your ticket was a small booth right before the entrance to the actual building. a lady sat there, face speaking for itself, saying she's bored and over it. you had to sign a waiver which honestly freaked you the fuck out, what happens in there other than a good fuck?

when entering, it was pretty loud. smoke filled the small hallways; lights were flashing brightly. you didn't know what you were supposed to do or where you were supposed to go.

it was a good two minutes when you finally heard footsteps right behind you. before you could even turn, a hand was placed over your mouth to mumble your screams and you were yanked through this curtain that hid a door right behind it. once you got into the room, it was decorated as if you were in a horror film. the hands on you let you go but still didn't turn you around. you felt shaky, all of this was so new—so unexpected.

"you're a pretty little thing, aren't ya'?" the man spoke, placing his cold hands on the back of your thighs, fingers running between the spaces left from your fishnets. he breathes heavily, almost like he's hungry, as he felt around your body.

you hadn't even gotten a good look at his face, wanting to know the face of the guy who was about to fuck you crazy. for a second you had hesitated to turn, but you finally did and looked up into his eyes. the only thing that had been on his face were two fake smile cuts— blooding dripping from them, he was attractive though, no kidding. you couldn't get enough of the way he looked down at you, still wearing his acting face and trying his best to continue portraying this character while you're still in front of him looking like that.

"did i tell you to turn and look at me?" he asked. no, but you wanted to.

"i— i just wanted to see what you looked like..." you replied, feeling so small with all the dominance he carried.

"does it matter? you're not gonna see it while i'm fucking you, you can barely see with these lights anyways."

"but— i saw enough," heeseung was a nice guy in real life, this character though was the complete opposite— aggressive, rough, overly dominant and so on. having to keep going on with this facade when you said things that had him blushing and instead of treating you like a princess, he'd be treating you like a slut.

"on your knees," he said through gritted teeth.

right away you were kneeling before him, face to face with his bulge and looking up. he held your chin to tilt your head up a little bit further. "what an obedient slut," he chuckled airy and let go of your face.

you watched as his hands trailed down to fiddle with his button and zipper of his black jeans. the feeling of excitement filled you and it caused a pool to form in the lace fabric you wore.

the minute heeseung pulled his cock out you didn't even get to give a reaction before he was forcing himself inside your mouth. you hummed lightly, loving the way he tasted on your tongue. he watched your head move forward without his help, watching the dirty sight and listening to your moans in satisfaction.

heeseung threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck you were so aching to mark, "fuck," he let out softly followed by a few pants.

his hands move to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair and gripping onto it tight. the sting sent to your scalp added a whole new feel of pleasure, nothing was being done to you, yet you were making more noises than heeseung was.

your eyes had closed just a little while ago and once you opened them and look back up, you make eye contact with the man. he squints and tilts his head a bit, that being enough to intimidate you and closing your eyes yet again.

"ah— nope, look at me," heeseung says, demanding voice deep and raspy.

you hesitantly open your eyes again and look up into his eyes. heeseung pushes himself deeper down into your throat, holding you there until your nose was almost kissing his pelvis. tears filled your water line, and you let out very few choking noises before he was pulling out fully removing himself, thank god for your lack of a gag reflex.

his heavy cock hung right in front of your face, your black lipstick leaving one single ring around the base, "look at how good you take it, so messy— just how i like it."

heeseung rubbed his tip between your lips, glossing the precum all over them. the aching between your legs just seemed to grow and it wasn't like you could tell him to hurry up, that'll just piss him off. he didn't like being rushed, plus he was control right now.

everything had happened so quick, one minute you were on the floor and the next you were being thrown onto the bed— fishnets ripped and underwear at your knees. the leather hugging your body had barely moved and heeseung just needed to see more, see how your ass moved against him and your hips rocking back and forth.

"you're so wet darling, who's got you all worked up?" he asked, a evil chuckle following.

you hadn't answered, too afraid to speak if you were being honest and heeseung didn't appreciate that. a sharp slap was sent to your ass, and you jumped, gasping but enjoyed the sting.

"i asked a question, don't start acting up now," he sounded hot every time he spoke, if only you could see his face right now.

hands gripped onto your hips, eyes trailing down your body and falling in love with the view. with the amount of shifts he's worked here and all the people he has fucked he had never been so into a customer like he was into you.

"you, you did—" you finally say.

"good, you speak," he says, "now keep going with that pretty mouth of yours."

two of his long slender fingers plunged into you, curling and sending this new shockwave throughout your body. an exaggerated moan left your mouth, you hadn't remembered the last time you felt someone else's fingers but yours and it feel amazing.

"you're sucking them right in, doll," heeseung comments. his fingers moved steadily, a twist of his wrist every now and then.

his digits were nearly soaked from you, not like he really minded anyways. if anything, he thought it was hot you were this wet for him, dripping from his fingers and making all these noises.

screams, moans, and the faint sound of the spooky music they had playing could be heard— along with the smoke machines and buzzing of lights, yet your moans were all heeseung could focus on.

"shi— more, please more," you begged.

heeseung couldn't resist, making enough space to add another one of his fingers and move faster. each thrust of them became rougher and had you clawing at the sheets. he did so well, and of course he knew what he was doing, he worked here for a reason.

"good god, you're so tight," heeseung bent down to press a kiss to the back of your thigh, licking up the arousal that had dripped down and groaning from the satisfying taste, "and you taste so good."

all he could think about now was how he wanted to go raw on you and feel the way you clench around his cock tight, barely allowing him to move, but it was a requirement that the workers use protection in order not to catch nor spread anything. it made him grow this irritation because he really just wanted to know how you felt— and even filling you up with him cum and watching it leak from you, though he knew he couldn't do that, the thought just didn't go away.

"wish i could fill you up, but i'm afraid i can't doll," he says, disappoint heard in his voice.

you wondered why, then remembered what you had read on the contract about the protection rules. to feel his load was only something you could imagine, now you wondered if you would see him again, run into him and flashback to this night. he'd take you back to his place, or even yours and you could finally see his face clearly, clear of the fake scars and being able to actually see it in the light.

"you'd probably take it so well, huh?" he asked. you hum and wiggle your hips, moving them side to side to add to the pleasure, "what a proud cumslut."

that familiar knot tightened up in your stomach and your bud throbbing, aching for the attention. if you would have reached back what if heeseung slapped your hand away and denied you of any contact? which is exactly what he did when you tried.

you tighten around his fingers and feeling your mind getting fuzzy, heeseung pushing you closer and closer to your high.

"i— i'm close," you moan out.

"so quick?" again, you moan out but in embarrassment.

it just felt so good, how could he blame you? with each thrust of his fingers and jerk of his hand, it was only a matter of time before you soaked the both of you. heeseung watched as you squirted, twisting and turning his fingers roughly inside you as you did.

"didn't know you could do that," he said, smirk plaster on his face.

his fingers were out of you after being trapped in for so long, your hips collapsing trying to get some rest but heeseung wasn't done. and he wasn't giving breaks.

your hips were soon propped back up, heeseung placing your knees on the bed. he needed to fuck you now, feel every part of you. he nearly forgot to get protection due to how distracted he got watching you drench his fingers and clothing like that— your cum running down the back of your thighs, oh was it a sight.

heeseung grabbed the condom that usually was left on the nightstands, grabbing and removing it from the package. he stripped himself from his jacket and his shirt that was wet because of you, rolling the latex slowly onto the head and down his shaft.

"hurry and fuck me," you say, with a wiggle of your hips just barely hitting the head of his cock with your heat.

"you're an impatient little bitch," heeseung rolls your dress up to your waist, sending an aggressive slap on your ass—making you flinch. he held onto your hips tightly before pushing himself in, the sound of him hissing behind you at the feeling made you clench tighter around him, "sucking me right in, how fuckin' pretty?"

heeseung's hips started at a slow pace, a small whimper leaving your lips as he filled you to the brim, so easily controlling you with everything he did and every word he spoke. as his pace started to grow faster, your hands clenched onto the comforter—feeling all of him, inch by inch.

"m'gonna abused this sweet pussy of yours, darling." he smacks your ass harder and began pistoning into you. each stroke went deeper and deeper, splitting you open like no one has before.

you moan loud, all the wet sounds and skin slapping overpowering the loudness of the smoke machines, other women's screams, and anything else that made noise outside of this room, "how are you so fucking big?" you struggled to ask, genuinely wondering how someone could be the size he was but fit so perfectly inside you.

"it's a blessing, i guess," he shrugged, knowing how cocky that sounded but it just played into his character.

he continued to pound into you and letting out the nastiest of groans, getting lost inside you. never in the two years he's been working here as he ever felt like this before. it was always nothing but a fuck, a paycheck, and then going home after fucking girls back-to-back, but you... he could fuck you without your money even being involved. you were a goddess in his eyes, and the slutty costume you wore didn't help him control his thoughts.

heeseung pulls out of you, manhandling you onto your back, yanking your panties down from your knees and discarding them then pulling your dress up more. your legs spread for him instinctively and his cock filled you back up immediately. heeseung watched how your body reacted to him—fucking you with sharper thrusts this time.

"pretty girl, give me another?" he hovered over you, bringing one of your legs up to your chest. you nod in response, heeseung smirking as you let out another moan, "good, i want us drenched."

as time went on, and heeseung's movements only got faster—you felt yourself being pushed further to the edge. ear splitting squeals left your throat and soon you were cumming fast and hard. heeseung pulled out, fingers immediately traveling down to your clit and rubbing harshly throughout your orgasm. heeseung's torso was now dripping, the picture of his state locked in your mind.

"fuck baby, can you do it again for me?" heeseung asked, fingers still toying with you bud gently causing you to jerk up into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut and letting out and mumbled whimper, "please?"

that made something in you snap. you felt so obedient, so needy and it was all for him. you nodded to the best of your ability, heeseung grinned the second you did. something about his sinister makeup made him so incredibly attractive in a way, so much more dominate.

he stood back up straight, positioning himself to slide back into you with ease. your back arched off the bed giving heeseung a chance to slip one of his arms under you and hold you in place. his body was pressed against yours, his hips beginning to move again.

moans spilled out of you, you were just too sensitive and already worn out—anything you did you had no control of in the moment. you felt like a toy for him to use, which wasn't a bad idea at all, infact you were hoping he'd treat you as just that.

heeseung looked at your scrunched up face and open mouth, letting out the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. he plants a kiss on your chin, trailing them down to your neck and your collarbone, leaving a few marks behind.

"i could fuck you all night until you pass out," he mumbled against your skin.

you clenched around him at the thought of him using your body until you were putty in his hands, "i-i think i will s-soon if you make me cum again," you stuttered, your sentence causing him to giggle, "and i-isn't there a ti-time limit-t?"

"am i not the worker?" heeseung asked, looking into your eyes with his dark gaze, "if i'm having a good time i can do whatever the hell i please... meaning if i wanna fuck you for hours on end and make you squirt over and over again, then i will do so." he goes on to explain.

you weren't sure if he was still in character—saying the things he'd say to any of the girls that came to the range, or if he got so lost in the moment that he forgot he was supposed to be acting for the sake of good tips and instead meant every last word he said.

heeseung thrusted up hard into you, getting closer to his orgasm. he felt so pussy drunk, he was feeling dizzy and his hips began having a mind of their own. you felt his free hand coming to toy with your clit again, rubbing like he was trying to get you to cum messy and fast again.

"f-fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum~" you cried out. heeseung chuckles devilishly, leaning down to lick across your jawline and then whisper into your ear.

"be a good slut, make me cum and i'll make you," he whispered.

you whine, clenching down onto him, your eyes snapping shut as you tried to hold on—hoping he was close. his slender fingers slide up and down along your soaked core, pounding into you until he released. you had only wished it was actually inside you. the thought itself made your hips twitch and you were cumming again—this one hitting a lot harder than the previous ones.

both you and heeseung's moans synced with one another, feeling sticky from sweat and cum. you stayed like this for a while as you tried catching your breath. heeseung's body had collapsed onto top of yours, his hips still slowly moving.

once he had finally got up, he wiped his abs clean using a folded towel left on the nightstand—tying his condom and throwing it into the trash.

"made you break character," you comment, chuckling afterwards.

heeseung laughs at you as he got dressed, kneeling down to pat your inner thighs dry. you examined your thighs as he did so, dripping from your many intense orgasms, ripped fishnets and flushed skin from the amount of harsh skin on skin contact.

"you're fucking amazing, my favorite customer by far," heeseung comments, collecting your panties as he was still on the ground and handing them to you.

"yeah?" you asked, leaning back on your hands and spreading your legs a little further, earning a smirk from the man between them, "better than all those other whores you screwed?"

heeseung stood up, throwing the towel into a different bin—an airy chuckle escaping his throat, "you're the best whore i've screwed, baby." he admits.

you hum, leaning forward and looking up at him with big eyes, "you tell all your customers that?"

heeseung upperhalf bends down, your chin ending up between his fingers, "only the pretty ones, and they don't come often," he says, forcing your head up slightly—lips so close to his, "you're different though. i like how your body reacts."

he lets go of you, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. you take it, pulling your dress back down once you did finally get up. your legs felt weak, your entire body felt weak, and your brain was still trying to process what the hell just happened.

"not to mention you know how to suck dick like no other," he adds as you were trying to fix yourself before you walked out that door, "should come back again, can't promise you'll get me next time though."

"what if i don't want anyone else next time?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

all he does is smirk before placing his hand on the doorknob, "i'll just tell my coworkers to keep their hands off of you until i find you." he says as he opens the door for you, "you have a goodnight now...i need to get back into character. you fucked me up."

you smile before saying goodbye, walking out of the door and through the curtain. you walk down the hallway you originally entered the room from and went back to the front to collect your belongings.

"how much would you like to tip?" the lady behind the booth asked.

once you got your purse back, you pulled out a 50 and gave it to her. her eyes widened when she took it into her hands, looking back up at you, "good time huh?"

you nod, giving her a soft smile before grabbing your things and walking away from the building. it was almost an internal instinct to grab your phone and call your best friend.

the phone only rung twice before yunjin answered, "hello?" she spoke.

"hey..." you said lowly. she didn't know what to make of it. either you hadn't gone, or you did, and it was a disappointment.

"oh my god, did you not go through with it?" yunjin asked, you could hear shuffling on the other side of the line.

you chuckle, still walking to the parking lot, "no...no i went through with it alright."

"well, what are you waiting for? spill!" yunjin said, urging you to share your experience.

you thought back to what had just taken place in that building behind you five minutes ago, wanting to say fuck it and start running back and pay extra just so you could see heeseung again.

"the guy i was with was so fucking hot, jen. i'm telling you right now, that is the best sex i've had in a minute." you admitted.

"see! we told you it'd be fun," she says, you could just tell she was smiling as she said that, "did you get his number?"

"unfortunately, no," you said with a frown as you approached your car, unlocking it and getting in, "but i think i'll be coming back soon."

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enha smut #enha imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kinktober

1K notes · View notes

co-reborn · 8 months

Text

Exclusive

Nayeon x Male Reader

view in AFF

2,350 Words

A/N: Let's go! First fic of the year. This is a collaboration with @sinswithpleasure that has been stewing for a long time.

A/N2: Huge thanks to @passingnotions for helping look through the fic and giving some feedback.

A/N3: This convo

Me @12:50: I'm slowly making Exclusive a fic wdym sins @12:51: Exclusive is nayeon? Me @12:51: Yes ofc sins @12:52: pui sins @12:52: shes not

Exclusivity.

What a joke. You’ve never thought highly of it but you know this girl does. Well, did, actually.

First, with her boyfriend, the supposed love of her life. That was until she met you. The pure, loving girlfriend succumbed to you and realised her mistake of waiting till marriage, henceforth becoming your exclusive cheating slut.

That was until ten minutes ago.

When you pulled Nayeon into the corner room, you didn’t expect to be interrupted. However, after the man caught sight of her, naked as the day she was born, straddling and making out with you, he wanted in. It was the perfect opportunity to push her slutty instincts further.

“Go on, slut. Fuck him just like you enjoy fucking Daddy.”

No matter how hesitant Nayeon seemed, a rough kiss, a grope of her breast and a bulge pressing against her stomach later, she’s thoroughly convinced and she finds herself riding his cock. She doesn’t know his name, just that there’s another cock to fuck, to stretch her pussy, to fill her with cum.

Nayeon is in another world, seeking sinful pleasure and going against her beliefs of being an exclusive and loyal girlfriend. You brought her into this world, into your world, for you to indulge in, just as she’s savouring the feeling of getting fucked by another stranger. She’s stuck inside but by the look of things—it’s not like she wants to leave.

“Fuck, Daddy! I’m so full. Feels so—mmph!” The man interrupts her by pulling her in for a kiss, his tongue meeting hers eagerly. He grips hard on her waist and bounces her even harder onto his lap, a welcome gesture that causes the girl to hold onto his shoulders and match his strength.

You’re not one to miss out on the fun either. You take a few steps closer to the two until your cock presses onto Nayeon’s back before you slap her ass. She breaks the kiss to cry out loud and looks over her shoulder at you, eyes tearing, not from the pain but from the sheer pleasure she’s experiencing. They’re sending a message to you—‘More, Daddy. Keep spanking your slut.’

Of course you oblige. You would have continued even if she begged you to stop. But you know her. You know Im Nayeon inside out. She would never beg you to stop, only beg for you to give her even more, especially when she melts into the pleasure. Mouth gaped open, she moans out loud without a care for whoever passes by the room. Even when her orgasm hits her, her hips don’t stop moving. In fact, she thrives from it and rides the man faster. Her cum coats the man’s cock and makes a mess of their bodies and the bed underneath.

“Daddy, Daddy, fuck me, fuck my ass! I want all my holes filled!”

“One cock isn’t enough for you, slut, is that right?”

She shakes her head, “I need yours too, I… I need more cocks. Please, Daddy.”

You spit on your tip repeatedly before pressing yourself against the puckered hole. Nayeon freezes in place when you slowly begin to enter her ass. It's been a while since you've taken her like this, having always preferred to fill her pussy with your potent cum. Holding onto her waist, you push yourself into her. She’s gasping with each inch entering her body and it blossoms into a loud moan when you’re hilt deep inside.

Nayeon is shaking, tears streaking down her cheeks, yet she's still wanting more. She holds onto the man's shoulders and shifts back and forth to adjust to the extreme feeling of being filled with two cocks. Her delectable body reacts immediately with her holes tightening around you both. You slide yourself out of her ass and immediately, all you hear from the girl are unhinged cries, "No, no, no! Put it back! Fill me. Fuck me, keep fucking me."

At her request, the action resumes. You start to properly fuck her and the man humps upwards as best he can. He leans into her chest and sucks on her nipples, Nayeon hugging his head close to keep him there. Her body starts to move to your rhythms as she eagerly bounces on the two cocks. It's her first time being double penetrated and she's taking it like a pro.

If she remained exclusive with you, she would have never discovered how much she enjoys taking two cocks at the same time.

If she remained exclusive with her boyfriend, she would have never discovered how much of a slut she can be.

You’ve broken Nayeon over and over and you’re breaking her again. You’re sure of it. Her body repeatedly clenches around you, the stream of moans only pauses for her to catch her breath. Stray strands of hair stick to her sweaty forehead and the tears that flow down her cheeks ruin her makeup. Her image is completely gone but that’s not on her mind now. There’s nothing in her head other than the cock in her cunt, the cock in her ass, and how fucking good it all feels.

“Cum slut,” the man breaks his silence, “cum all over me again, and I’ll cum deep inside you.”

It’s like the word ‘cum’ reignites a flame with Nayeon. She’s slamming herself down hard and grinding her hips as if to push the cocks even deeper inside of her. Rambling non-stop, begging, “Please, please, please! Just fill my holes, I need it, need cum in me—cum. Gonna cum. Cumming, I’m cumming!”

You watch Nayeon crumble and explode as her squirt makes an even larger mess than before. It’s a sight you always love to see: watching her fall and succumb to erotic, sinful pleasure. She’s cursing and crying before becoming incoherent, but even though her words aren’t forming, she’s shooting daggers at the man under her, pleading for him to give her what she wants, what they both want.

With a loud groan, he lets himself loose. Warmth from his hot potent seed fills Nayeon’s pussy and she sighs; her body slows down as she takes it all in. While the other two wind down from their orgasms, you keep the pace up in search of your own. You press a palm onto Nayeon to push both her and the man under her onto the bed, and you take advantage of the position to go faster and harder. Why should you care if you're being too rough on the girl? You're just using her for what she is—a plaything, a slut, a cum dumpster. It's not like she doesn't like it this way, when she's reduced to nothing but a tight hole for you to derive pleasure from.

Nayeon makes out with the man while her ass is being ploughed by you. You hear her moans mix into the rough kiss, see her scalp being grabbed. You’re enjoying the sight. Your creation of this slut being stretched beyond her self-imposed limits time and time again. As if she knows your eyes are on her, she turns to face you while her neck is being planted with light bite marks.

"Daddy, Daddy please," she calls out for you, her dirty lover, in her sweetest voice, "are you going to cum soon? Fill this slut's ass with your cum, Daddy. I know you want to ruin your slut as much as you can."

Your thrusts speed up and you’re rapidly slamming your hips against her butt. Nayeon’s body rocks back and forth to meet yours and she bites her lips before continuing her sick melody.

“Your cock’s the best, Daddy. You’re the best. Dump your load in this greedy, cheating slut. Cum, Daddy, cum.”

She’s practically begging so you stop holding back. You can barely keep it up any longer, and a handful of thrusts later, you shoot your load in Nayeon’s ass as she asked for.

Your body continues to work on autopilot and buries your cum deeper into her hole while you’re still savouring the intense orgasm. Nayeon moans from the last few thrusts and when you finally soften and slip out of her body, a small white stream immediately flows out and stains her reddened skin—one that is quickly plugged by her very own two fingers. When she gets off the man's lap, you catch a glimpse of another stream of white, this time from her pussy, and she stops it with her other hand.

Kneeling on the bed before you with her legs spread, she looks up at you, tongue sticking out to inform you that she’s still hungry. Plastered on her face is a wicked smile as she brings both hands to her mouth and she licks the cum clean.

“Thank you Daddy.” She kisses your chest. “Although, I still have one more hole that needs to be fucked.”

She bends lower to kiss your cock and you gently stroke her hair, but a split second later, you're gripping her scalp and pushing yourself into her mouth. “So what you’re saying is that you need a third cock?”

A muffled moan is all you hear from the girl. You're fucking her face with the same intensity as when you were fucking her ass, dead set on making an even bigger mess of her makeup, while Nayeon is lost in her thoughts, her fantasies now including a fourth person with her.

~~~~~~

Nayeon’s heart pounds to the beat of the music that’s blasting across the whole house. She’s still throbbing under her dress and cum continues to ruin her panties while she finds her boyfriend in the crowd.

“Sorry babe, I saw some old friends and I started talking to them and I lost track of time and—”

“It’s fine, baby. I was having fun with my friends too. Whatever makes you happy.” He kisses her forehead and smiles. “Let me go grab you a drink.”

Just like that, she’s alone again, dancing to the music, waiting. That only lasts for a moment. She catches sight of the man, her third partner, and was it not for the loud bass, the people around her would have heard her moan. He’s with his friends and they all turn to look at her with a devilish smile. Some of them approach her after, and they greet her with a simple whisper, “Slut.”

Nayeon moans.

The next moment, hands skirt up her thighs. She does nothing except remain still, feeling afraid, confused, turned on. These hands brush over her cum-stained panties, and next thing she knows, fingers are pressing against her freshly fucked holes through the ruined fabric. It doesn’t take long before a bold hand slides right under the waistband to touch her directly while her new partners surround her to hide their actions. These new men take what they want from her—hands are all over her body, palming her breasts, yanking her hair, squeezing her ass, rubbing her thighs. Nayeon bites back a moan when she feels two distinctly different men pleasure her—one man rubs her clit, the other shoves his fingers into her cum-filled pussy.

“Oh, fuck, so good—” are the only words Nayeon can come up with. Under the loud music and surrounded by her current partners, no one else hears her moan. She feels her legs grow weak as cum and slick drip out of her hole, and the men around her hold her up as they have their way with her.

“You’re such a whore, you cheating slut.” One of the men touching her voices what the entire group thinks, and the men around her laugh. “I wonder what your wonderful little baby boy would think when he sees this.”

“Wait—! I…where’s my boyf—?!” Nayeon panics. He can’t see her like this!

“Over there, slut, but not like you really care, do you?” The wall of flesh around her parts slightly, and Nayeon scans the room in a rush. Her eyes dart from person to person, and they land on the sight she wishes to see—her boyfriend distracted by someone, and on a second, closer look, she’s locking eyes with you. You flash her a sick smile before you mouth the same dirty word that set her off earlier.

“Cum.”

Just like earlier, the one command breaks her. Her eyes quiver, the pressure quickly hitting its breaking point. Under the lustful touch of men she doesn’t know, Nayeon reaches an explosive high—a high-pitched whine is all she can manage as her orgasm tears through her. The men around her gasp in shock and awe—Nayeon ruins her underwear for all of her partners to watch, and feast on the sight they do, lustful eyes taking in every detail. The girl in their hands nearly collapses as she squirts through her panties, her juices spraying through the cloth and running down her bare legs. The puddle beneath her only grows—none of the men stop fingerfucking her, hell bent on extending the pleasure she enjoys. The whore in their hands doesn’t bother hiding her moans anymore—the pleasure clouds her judgement, and she lets herself go as more and more streams of squirt flow down her legs to the puddle beneath her.

“Please, more, please, I—!”

Nayeon’s broken—she’s begging these unknown men for more pleasure, and she nearly cries when they reject her.

“No can do, baby. Your boyfriend’s waiting.” The men around her laugh at her despair as they begin to leave the scene of their crime, but one of them stays just for a second more to slap her pussy over her ruined, drenched underwear, with a parting remark.

“See you next time, slut. Next time, you’ll be pleasing us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Nayeon’s boyfriend comes back to her, she hurriedly pulls the skirt of her dress back down to hide the evidence. She thanks whoever decided on the dimmer lighting of the party venue—her boyfriend notices nothing about the pool of cum beneath her feet.

“Hey baby, I’m back. Here’s your…”

As her boyfriend speaks, Nayeon finds herself tuning him out in favour of her thoughts.

‘Next time, you’ll be pleasing us.’

Nayeon can’t wait.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #twice #twice smut #im nayeon #nayeon smut

1K notes · View notes

andvys · 1 year

Text

We're no good alone | S.H. & E.M.

Part two of It's just us

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! rough smut, threesome, spanking, choking, manhandling, mentions of unrequited love and heartbreak, mentions of cheating, slight angst, fluff, happy ending

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | slight Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: As you and Steve put your rivalry aside, you grow closer and closer and take another step forward when Steve befriends the man who once broke your heart. @mysticmunson thank you for the idea with the polaroid picture!

Word count: 14k+

Author's note: I'm not too sure about this but I didn't just write 14k words for nothing so I hope you're gonna like it

Read the prequel story about Eddie x reader here -> For me it's always you (more parts coming soon)

stranger things masterlist

Feel free to send in requests for drabbles/blurbs for this fic!

This has to be one of the weirdest days in your life, first you hooked up with Steve after finding out that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his girlfriend and now you are sitting at Benny’s diner, sharing fries with him and drinking vanilla milkshakes as though it’s the most normal thing for you both to do. It’s not. You hate each other’s guts, you always did. The rivalry had already started in middle school and carried on until now.

You were disgusted by everything he said and done and yet that didn’t stop you from having sex with him. You let him take out his frustrations on you and he let you too, it was merely hate fucking, that’s all. Right?

It felt good, he made you feel good. You needed it after what you had run into a few days back.

You never thought that Jonathan would do this to you, that he would hurt you like this but it seems like every guy that you want, doesn’t actually want you. It’s not the first time you have been hurt by men like him, he wasn’t the first.

He may not know it but he ripped open wounds that you had gotten before him.

Why aren’t you enough for them?

What does she have that you don’t have?

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking those thoughts,” Steve sighs.

“How would you know what I’m thinking about?” You snap at him, rolling your eyes.

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, he dips his fries into the ketchup, taking his time to answer the question, he eats the fries and drinks his milkshake.

You have to admit, he looks pretty. His hair is messy from all your tugging, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are filled with.. peace? For someone who just got cheated on, he looks awfully relaxed and content.

“It’s because I’m thinking them too,” he admits, “but don’t think that you aren’t enough, y/n. You are enough.”

You brows knit together, you stare at him without saying anything.

His hazel eyes flash with something unrecognizable, he smiles a little, “anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble as you play with your straw, “you have to say that.”

“It’s the truth. I know you hate me but I’m not lying to you,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, he looks away from you, suddenly too shy to hold eye contact, “we might not get along but you’re not that bad, you know? You’ve been a good girlfriend to him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being annoying or mean with him, like you’re with me,” he chuckles, eyes raking over your body, “plus, you’re like really hot and pretty and way out of his league.”

A smirk tugs at your lips, his cheeks grow more red as he continues to look anywhere but at you.

“Does someone have a little crush on me?”

He rolls his eyes, “shut up, no I don’t.”

He used to have a crush on you, actually, he was pretty sure he was frozen in place the first time he saw you. 12 year old Steve was pretty sure that he was in love with the pretty girl that just moved to Hawkins after her parents decided to come back from the big city. He liked you but he sure had a funny way of showing it, instead of befriending you like he should have, he pulled at your pigtails and shoved you around.

You giggle as he glares at you. Leaning back in your seat, you look him up and down, “you’re not too bad either but I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

He scrunches his face up in confusion, furrowing his brows, “we literally just fucked at the party and then you made me stop the car because you wanted to suck my dick.”

“That was in the past,” you say, blushing.

“That was 20 minutes ago, you let me cum inside you.”

“Well you bend me over the car.”

“Because you asked me to!”

“I like your dick, it’s really big.”

A sharp gasp makes you tear your eyes away from his, looking up, you find a middle aged lady looking at the two of you in disgust. The cross necklace around her neck clutched in her hand, she looks at you in disgust, frowning as she looks between you both.

“Sinners!” She sputters before she continues walking, glancing at you one more time with a horrified expression on her face.

You and Steve look back at each other, only being able to contain the laughter for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. His hazel eyes are filled with amusement, he puts his hand on his stomach as he leans back, “did you see her face?”

You nod, still laughing at the older lady.

“I think she’s gonna go pray for us now,” you giggle.

“It’s no use, we’re already sinners,” Steve snorts.

The ring above the door sounds through the diner, you look behind Steve’s shoulder almost instantly. Your smile falls when your eyes lock with those brown eyes. For a moment he stares at you, not moving, he just stands there and looks at you.

Steve straightens up, face growing serious when he sees the annoyance in your eyes and lingering sadness, your brows are furrowed and you glare at whoever it is that you’re looking at. As he turns around he expects it to be Jonathan but instead it’s Eddie Munson who is receiving the death stare from you.

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now that he knows that you have hooked up with Eddie in the past, he can’t help but wonder what else has happened. Clearly, it wasn’t just casual hookups the way you described it earlier to him, you giggled and mentioned it as though it was nothing meaningful but that was obviously a lie.

Eddie is staring at you with his big puppy dog eyes, while you stare at him with the look that only he ever received in the past.

He tears his eyes away from you and they flash with confusion when he looks at him. Steve can imagine what kinds of questions are running through his mind right now, ‘why is she here with him?’, ‘where are Jonathan and Nancy?’, ‘why are they here together?’

It’s no secret to others that you and Steve don’t get along, the whole school knows about your rivalry.

He looks at you one more time before he finally turns away and walks towards the counter.

Steve turns back to you with a curious look on his face, your arms are crossed, your jaw is clenched and you look out the window, blinking.

“Are you… okay?” Steve asks almost skeptically.

“Don’t act like you care, Harrington,” you snap at him again, giving him the usual bratty attitude.

He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Can you drive me home?”

“No.”

Your lips part, glaring at him, you scoff, “what do you mean no?”

Steve smirks, “say please and I’ll drive you home.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

You huff angrily, rolling your eyes. It amuses him.

“I can walk home,” you shrug. Getting up, you reach for your purse and smooth down your skirt.

“You think I’ll let you walk home?”

“Well, you said you won’t drive me home,” you counter.

“Just be nicer, jeez.”

“I’m not nice.”

He gets up as well and looks at you as he reaches for his wallet, throwing some money on the table, “did anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”

You feel his eyes on you and it’s making your skin crawl. You step closer to Steve, batting your eyelashes at him, “can you please drive me home, Steve?” You ask as you reach for his hand.

His lips curl into a smirk, he knows exactly why you are doing this.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He places his hand on the small of your back and looks down at you as he leads you out of the diner, you are not looking at him but he is looking at you, with both a frown on his face and confusion. He doesn’t even notice that Steve is looking, he only pays attention to you.

You let out a loud sigh when you step out of the diner, breathing in the fresh air. Neither of you speak up, at least not until you’re back in his car.

“So.. what happened with you and Munson?” Steve asks, watching the way you tense up, “I thought it was just casual hookups.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie Munson was just another boy who broke your heart. Jonathan was the one who put it back together, only to hurt it was well.

You moved on from it, at least you thought you did. Jonathan’s and Nancy’s betrayal wasn’t the only painful memories on your mind the past few days, they also brought you back to him.

Steve tilts his head as he watches you, he will find out what happened.

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, getting more comfortable in his seat, he puts his hand on the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair, he looks at his own expression in the rearview mirror before turning to you.

“You do know that we’re gonna be the laughing stock of the school, right?”

You shrug, furrowing your brows you stare at him like you don’t understand the problem. You don’t care about it, you don’t care that people will laugh at you, that they will make fun of you. That is something Steve always admired about you, you just don’t give a damn about other people, you do and say whatever you want, not caring about what others will think or say.

“I don’t want that.”

You snort, “why would they laugh at you?”

Steve sighs again, eyes flashing with confusion, he brings his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we dated two outcasts, two…–”

“Losers? We dated two losers?” You mumble, nodding, “yes we did, they are fucking losers for what they did.”

“Exactly! We got fucked over by losers, y/n!”

“Oh my god, Harrington, do you seriously care about what people will have to say about it? Do you think that I give a fuck? They can laugh and talk shit, I don’t care. I literally just lost my boyfriend and my best friend!” You say angrily, throwing your hands up as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, “my best friend, Steve! She was with me since we were little! I don’t even care about what he did, I’ll move on from that but her? She was supposed to be my friend.”

His eyes flash with guilt but also with sympathy. He lost her too, a girl he thought he would spend his life with but it must be so much harder for you.

“Y/n..”

“What do you want? Do you want to hurt them? Do you want us to be together so you can get back at them?” You ask, “trust me they won’t fucking care, obviously they’re like in love or something.”

You wipe your tears angrily and slump back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window, only now noticing the van parked next to you.

“Can you just drive?”

“Yeah.. sure,” he mumbles, finally starting the car. “You think they’re in love?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, rubbing your forehead, “I’m not blind, Steve. I could see the way they looked at each other, I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

Steve swallows harshly, eyes flashing with sadness, “oh..”

“Yeah, oh.”

He thinks about it, is he hurt by it? A little. Is he heartbroken? Not really. He doesn’t understand it, when he first caught them, he threw up and felt like crying his eyes out but now after what happened with you, he suddenly feels… okay.

The car is filled with silence aside from the music on the radio. Too many things are running through your mind as you drive through the empty streets of Hawkins but you try to focus on something else, you try to focus on the fact that you are here with Steve.

Things should feel awkward between you, especially after what happened at the party and here in his car but it doesn’t, if anything it feels natural, surprisingly. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself.

Kissing him, touching him, having sex with him felt nice. Even sharing fries and spending time with him felt nice, it makes you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place, why he hated you.

You look over at him, staring at his side profile. His chiseled jaw, the light stubble on his skin, his stupid perfect hair. Your eyes trail down to his shoulder, his arm and his hand, his veiny hands.

You lick your lips, Steve is handsome, pretty and sexy. You had never seen his beauty before, not until tonight. Suddenly you feel yourself wanting him more. Not wanting this to be a one time thing.

Nancy is an idiot.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“We should be friends.”

His eyes widen, he blinks a few times, lips parting and closing again.

“F-Friends?”

“Mhmm.”

He parks his car in your driveway, staring at your house for a moment, he takes a deep breath and turns to you, “friends?” He asks, pointing his finger between you and him, “you want us to be friends?”

“You literally wanted to fake a relationship–”

“Who said anything about fake?”

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “you and I? We would never work.”

“Why not?” He shrugs.

“Uh– maybe because you hate me and I hate you?”

“I don’t hate you,” he scoffs, “I just hate that little attitude of yours, you need to be put in your place.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “yeah well, you’re not exactly brat tamer material, Steve.”

He smirks, eyes twinkling, “oh so you admit that you’re a brat?”

“No..”

He chuckles at the frown on your face, leaning closer to you, he puts his fingers under your chin, “you know what? I can be your friend but please tell me that we can do all this again.”

You bite your lip and look deeply into his eyes, “please.”

His eyes light up, he brings you closer, looking down at your lips. His nose bumps against yours as he smashes his lips against yours. You respond to the kiss with desperation, throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your hand in his hair.

He moans into the kiss, a sound that is enough to make you shiver again.

“Do you wanna come inside?” You murmur against his lips, pecking them again.

“What about your parents?” Steve asks as he continues to steal kisses from you.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” you breathe.

“Can you be quiet?” He smirks as he kisses your cheek, “wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to catch their good little girl getting ruined by Steve Harrington.”

“Shut up, can you be quiet?”

“Let’s find out.”

Your weekends usually consist of movie nights with Jonathan, Nancy and Steve. Getting food at Benny’s diner, sleepovers with your best friend or a shopping trip to Starcourt mall.

You expected tears of sadness and anger for this weekend but instead you got something else.

After spending the night at your place, he took you back to his house the next day. His parents weren’t home, you got the house to yourselves.

You took your frustrations out on one another, he fucked you on every surface of his house, making you forget about anything that ever hurt you. He marked you up, he kissed every inch of your body, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your chest, you gave him some in return, you worshiped him, making him feel something that she could never make him feel.

Steve fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did but you didn’t mind. You felt good and he made you forget, that’s all you wanted and needed.

You ignored Nancy’s and Jonathan’s calls, you expected them to show up at some point but it seemed as though neither of them were brave enough to actually face you, luckily. You didn’t want to see them and Steve didn’t either.

You stayed at his house for two days. Your usual movie night was different this time, Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there and thank god they weren’t. Making out with Steve and riding him on his big sofa was better than watching some stupid movie and cuddling up to your lying, cheating, partners.

You even made use of the polaroid that Steve bought but never really used before.

To say that you had fun this weekend would be an understatement.

But of course, you still hate each other.

When you walked down the hallways at school this morning, all eyes were on you and Steve. For the first time, you walked together, side by side.

It was no secret that you hated each other, you were often found bickering during class, at the cafeteria during lunch and in the hallways. But there you were, walking next to him in your cheerleader uniform, hair perfectly styled and makeup looking pretty on your face, a bright smile resting on your face as you looked up at King Steve, who gave you a cocky smile as he carried your books.

The hickeys on your neck were perfectly on display as were his.

You almost burst out laughing when people started whispering, pointing to the two of you. It was a scandal.

You and Steve had fun with it, especially when you caught the eyes of Nancy and Jonathan, who both stared at you in confusion before they disappeared in a classroom.

You enjoyed the attention and so did he, you were amused by it.

You couldn’t help but wonder what they would react like if you walked hand in hand, while stealing kisses from each other.

Maybe someday..

He should be paying attention to class, he really should but his mind is occupied by you. After spending a whole weekend with you, he had a sudden change of heart. His feelings had developed into something else and it confuses him.

He should be hurt, heartbroken and in agonizing pain. He should be crying and pining after the girl that he thought he loved so much but instead his thoughts are elsewhere.

Maybe you fucked the pain out of him.

He sighs, looking down at his notes, he finds the page blank, he will have to steal them from Robin again.

He looks around, eyes falling on the man that intrigues him ever since he had learned about your little affair. He tried to find out more about your past with Eddie but you always shut down, refusing to talk about it. You seemed hurt, just hearing his name made you tense up. What happened?

You seemed less hurt by Jonathan’s actions than by Eddie’s. What did he do?

“You’ll be working in pairs for this assignment, you can pick your partner.”

Steve looks around, staring at people switching seats. Then his eyes fall back on Eddie, who remains in his seat with his head down.

Grabbing his books, he gets up and walks towards him, settling in the free seat next to him, he slams the books on the table, startling the metalhead who looks up at him in confusion.

“W-What are you doing?” He mumbles, eying Steve with shock on his face, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, like he expects to be jumped by him.

Steve chuckles, “we gotta work in pairs,” he shrugs.

“I always work alone.”

“Well, today you aren’t,” Steve says.

Eddie continues to stare at him with raised brows, looking around, he almost expects someone from the basketball team to stare at him with smirks and anticipated looks on their faces as they wait for the King to pull some sort of prank but no one even looks at him.

“Okay,” he mumbles, turning back again.

“Relax buddy, I just wanna work with you.”

“Why?” Eddie mumbles grumpily.

Steve shrugs, “I just do.”

“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?”

Steve rolls his eyes, he can’t blame Eddie, he doesn’t have it easy at school but he never did anything to him, he can be an asshole but he is no bully.

“Whatever, man. Let’s just work on this assignment.”

“What’s the assignment?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Eddie huffs, throwing his pencil on his notebook, “aren’t you trying to graduate this year?”

“Aren’t you trying to graduate again?” Steve counters as he slams his notebook open, forgetting about the pictures he had slipped in there earlier. It falls on Eddie’s lap, who looks down at it, eyes widening.

Eddie takes the picture, he stares at it in surprise. His lips part in shock. It’s a picture of someone’s boobs. It’s not a challenge to figure out who’s body this is, he had definitely seen and touched it before, he is pretty sure he has a picture of them too, somewhere.

He can’t see a face or hair in this picture, only the neck and the chest that is littered in hickeys and bite marks, a hand on the lower stomach, fingernails painted black, a pink skirt bunched up at the waist, nipple piercings.

It’s you.

His stomach drops, his eyes flash with anger and jealousy, he doesn’t want it to be you.

Steve watches him in anticipation, he might have done it on purpose, wanting to find out how the metalhead would react to it.

Eddie pushes the picture into Steve’s hand, looking up at him, “who’s that?”

The look on Eddie’s face is almost comical to Steve, his nostrils are flared, lips set in a frown as he stares at him with jealousy in his eyes. Shouldn’t he be used to it already? You’ve been dating Jonathan. Did he ever glare at him? Did he ever stare at him with anger and jealousy on his face? Steve wishes that he would have paid attention to Eddie before.

Steve chuckles in amusement. Putting the picture back into the notebook, he turns to one of the nerds, asking about the assignment.

“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, “who is it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer already. Everything about the picture just tells him that it is you, from the shape of your body to the pink skirt you have worn before.

Eddie continues bugging him throughout the whole lesson, he should be focusing on the assignment but he can’t get the picture out of his mind.

“I thought you’d be able to recognize her,” Steve says smugly, “given that you two have fucked before.”

Eddie wants to ask and say so many things but he is shocked and confused.

Steve is dating Nancy.

You are dating Jonathan.

You hate Steve Harrington, at least you always said you did, was it all just a lie?

Eddie storms out of the classroom the moment the bell rings, he rushes out into the hallway, leaving a smug looking Steve behind.

Skipping the last period seemed to be the best decision to make, it’s the one class you share with both Jonathan and Nancy, you don’t feel like seeing either of them, it’s been difficult enough to avoid them all day.

Sitting on the ground at the library, you’re flipping through the pages of some random book about nature, you tried reading something but your mind is just too occupied by other things, you can’t focus.

“Hey.”

You freeze at the sound of his voice. You raise your head slowly. Eddie Munson. You can’t even remember the last time you had talked to him and you wish it would have stayed that way, you don’t want to talk to him, in fact, you would even rather talk to Jonathan and Nancy, that’s how bad it is.

“What do you want?”

“Can we talk?”

“No?” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, you shake your head in disbelief, looking back down at the book, you flip to the next page, pretending to read.

He sighs, “please?”

“Fuck off, Munson,” you mumble, “you should go before someone sees you with a popular cheerleader, don’t wanna ruin your perfect reputation.”

Eddie scoffs, huffing in annoyance.

“You’re still pissed about that?”

“No, I’m just saying,” you mumble as you slam the book shut and throw it to the ground before you get up, reaching for your book, you walk into the other direction, not bothering to even look at him but Eddie has different plans. He rushes after you, moving in front of you to keep you from walking away.

All he gets is an annoyed look before you turn the other way but he is quick to push you against the bookshelf, caging you against it.

“Are you serious? Let me go!” You whisper, trying to push him away.

He shakes his head stubbornly, looking into your eyes intently.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Munson?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

Your eyes show nothing but anger but you pretend not to be, “no, I just don’t feel like talking to you.”

Eddie Munson broke your heart, hurting you with harsh words and pushing you away just when you had confessed your love for him.

“You’re fucking Harrington?” He asks, completely ignoring your answer.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the look in his eyes is one of jealousy and anger. They flicker down to your neck, staring at all the hickeys on your skin, recognition flashing in his dark eyes.

“That’s what you wanna talk to me about?” You scoff.

You really wanna keep your cool, show him that you left him behind in the past, where he belongs. You hate him. You hate him more than you hate Jonathan who cheated on you, something that you thought would rip your heart out, surprisingly it didn’t but maybe that’s because Eddie had done it for him long before.

What does he even want from you? He hasn’t spoken to you since the night he left you standing in the rain. He was the reason you started dating Jonathan in the first place, you found comfort in him when he had found you crying behind the school weeks after your fallout with Eddie, he comforted you, placed his jacket around your shoulders and asked if you wanted to listen to a tape he had just made.

Jonathan was sweet, he loved music and driving around, taking you to the movies. He did what Eddie used to do, maybe that’s why you liked him so much. He filled the hole that he had left behind.

Something about Eddie has changed, not only do you see a new tattoo peeking out of his shirt, his hair also got longer, he uses a different cologne now, he probably stopped using Wayne’s cologne or maybe Wayne changed his and Eddie is still stealing it. New pins are on his vest and he seems more mature. You know that he is still the same dork as before, still joking around with his friends like a young and careless teen, he still jumps on tables and holds speeches knowing that he will get shit for it afterwards but there is something in his eyes that had changed. A flicker of sadness and emptiness that wasn’t there before.

You haven’t been this close to him since the last year and you hate yourself for admitting that you miss him.

You always missed him. You used to feel awful for still thinking about him when Jonathan kissed you, when he touched you or even when he just held your hand, you always thought about him. The last weekend was the first time that you haven’t thought about him, not even a single moment.

Jonathan couldn’t make you forget but Steve did.

“You’re dating Byers,” he mumbles, “and you’re fucking your best friend’s boyfriend?”

So, word hasn’t gotten around yet? You’re surprised, considering you told Heather about it, not that she’s much on gossip but she tends to have a loose mouth when she’s drunk.

“And so what if I do?” You ask, tilting your head. You don’t miss the look in his eyes when he stares at your lips for a moment.

“That’s not you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart, god you want to rip your hair out.

“And what do you know about me?” You ask, clenching your jaw angrily.

He grimaces at your question, stepping even closer to you, “I know everything about you.”

“No, you don’t,” you shake your head, “now back off.”

Eddie hesitates, what reason would he have to talk to you? What right does he have to ask you any questions? He was the one who pushed you out of his life, he was the one who rejected you, he was the one who didn’t want you. What a lie. God, you will never know how much he really wanted you, how much he still wants you.

He felt like a goddamn fool when he saw you with Jonathan Byers, knowing that he could’ve been the one by your side, if he wasn’t so scared.

He steps away and drops his arm to his sides, eyes flashing with sadness as you quickly pull away from him. His gaze follows you.

You halt in your tracks, taking a deep breath before you whirl around to face him again. You cannot stand him and his stupid puppy eyes. He looks at you as though you were the one who hurt him.

“To answer your question, no, I’m not with Jonathan anymore and I didn’t fuck my best friend’s boyfriend, she fucked mine. Steve caught them and the next day I caught them as well.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, he looks shocked and confused.

“W-What?” He mumbles in disbelief, “shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry–”

“Save it, Munson,” you scoff, looking away from him as your eyes well up with angry tears.

“Who would cheat on you..”

What is that supposed to mean? Wasn’t he the one who made you feel like you weren’t enough for him?

“Yeah and who would ever hurt me?” You ask as you plaster a smile on your face. The guilty look on his face makes you mad. “Whatever, I seem to be going for the wrong guys all the time.”

He whispers your name.

“But that’s fine, I guess I learnt my lesson,” you shrugs, “I should look for ones that are just as stuck up and boring as me, huh?”

He looks down, feeling ashamed of the words he used to hurt you.

You leave after a moment, storming out of the library. You want to leave him behind just like you want to leave Nancy and Jonathan behind.

But it turns out to be a challenge. You and Steve continue your newly found friendship. Weeks go by and after a few confrontations with your ex partners, they finally leave you alone. You no longer want to resume your friendship with Nancy, she cried and apologized to you, telling you that she didn’t want to lose you but she didn’t do much to prove it, especially when she just started dating your ex boyfriend.

Moving on will never be easy but you have him now. You and Steve still fight, you still use every opportunity to piss him off and in return, he does the same. You love making each other mad, you love heated arguments, ones that lead to sex.

You sneak out of class just to make out with him in the bathroom. Every time he throws you a note, you can feel his excited eyes on you but also the one’s of Eddie, who seemed to be interested to make a comeback in your life.

Not that you will ever let him.

You are focused on other things. Cheer practice, studying, girls nights with friends from the cheer squad and most importantly spending time with King Steve.

You found comfort in each other, maybe you were just no good alone but you like being around him. What starts off with a weird friendship with your enemy ends up developing into something bigger. A few months back you couldn’t even stand being around each other for longer than 10 minutes, now you can’t be without each other. Steve is surprisingly a really clingy guy and you don’t mind it.

After using your parents money to book a vacation, you spend your spring break on the east coast, using fake IDs to buy drinks and using Mr. Harrington’s credit card to rent a yacht. You both have wealthy parents, might as well use their money to have fun.

When Steve had suggested going on that trip, you didn’t expect to come back as his girlfriend but you did and for some insane reason, you love it.

A part of you still struggles to trust his intentions but you still agreed on becoming his.

What’s more insane is the fact that Steve had somehow befriended Eddie. Out of all people he could’ve started a friendship with, it of course had to be the guy that broke your heart. Apparently they had worked on an assignment together and ‘hit it off’. You should be pissed but he doesn’t really know what happened with you and him and you cannot blame him for liking him, Eddie is.. amazing. And Steve deserves to have more friends.

After cutting off Tommy a while back, Steve only really had Nancy, Jonathan and well you. Robin Buckley was one of his friends as well but they only ever hung out at work together, only having brief conversations at school.

For two months, he followed you around like a lost puppy after the breakup with Nancy. Spending lunch with you and your cheer squad instead of hanging out with the guys from the basketball team, why? You will never know, maybe it had something to do with his dislike for Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove but Steve preferred to stick to your side, that is until he and Eddie became friends.

You are not sure which one of them is playing a game though, is it Eddie who uses your boyfriend to sneak his way back into your life? Or is it your boyfriend himself, who is trying to test you to see if there are any remaining feelings left for his new friend?

You did tell him a little about your past but you didn’t want to give away too much, not wanting to admit that he hurt you as much as he did. Steve isn’t stupid though, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out that what you felt for Eddie was deeper than you wanted to admit.

It also really wasn’t a challenge to figure out that you started dating Jonathan in hopes that he could be like him.

Maybe, he should feel insecure, feel scared and worried that he might lose you to another man just like he lost Nancy but your feelings for him are genuine, even when your mind keeps taking you back to the other man. He can see it in your eyes, though you still act stubborn at times and pretend that he doesn’t mean that much to you, he knows it’s all just an act.

You love Steve in a way Nancy couldn’t and he loves you in a way Jonathan couldn’t.

But there is also someone else that loves you and despite his jealous nature, Steve doesn’t mind it, as odd as it is.

The more time he spends with him, the more he finds a liking towards Eddie, much to your demise. You don’t mind it, you just hate being around him.

It’s been easy to ignore him and his puppy dog eyes at first but once he realized that he is not getting any of your attention, he suddenly became a menace. He went from being apologetic to annoying, real quick.

He uses every opportunity to tease you, making sly comments and trying to flirt with you and Steve doesn’t even seem to mind, if anything, he finds it amusing. Watching his new friend getting on your nerves and getting the treatment from you that only he usually gets.

You should be mad at Steve for letting Eddie treat you like this but you can’t, not when you like it deep down.

Eddie stole the spot that used to belong to Steve, now he is your annoying 'enemy'.

Wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. Just like tonight.

A date night with your boyfriend turns into one with Eddie as well.

Sitting on Steve’s lap, you play with his hair, occasionally turning to look at the other man in the room, who smokes his blunt and drinks his beer as he talks to Steve about his stupid band that you used to love.

Steve’s large hand is resting on your hip, playing with the soft material of your skirt as he nods along to Eddie’s words.

“Babe,” you cut Eddie off, not even sparing him a glance as you look at your boyfriend, “are you ever gonna order that pizza?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m getting hungry and bored.”

Steve sighs, “don’t be rude, he was talking.”

“Who?” You feign, giving him a confused look. Smiling in satisfaction when you hear Eddie mumbling something under his breath.

You smile at him as you lean in to kiss his neck. He takes in a sharp breath, hand gripping your hip tighter causing your skirt to ride up a little. He can’t help but look over at Eddie to see his reaction, just as expected, Eddie is staring at you with such intensity in his eyes that it makes Steve shiver.

“Baby,” he warns but you don’t listen. You never do.

Eddie is both jealous and angry, though he admires the view, staring at your exposed skin as Steve touches your hip.

Steve raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak but before he can even form a word, you smash your lips against his, kissing him roughly.

His eyes widen in surprise but he can’t even stop the moan from falling. You throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, placing your hands on his neck and deepen the kiss as your tongue meets his.

Eddie swallows harshly, placing his blunt down, he tightens his grip on the bottle. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with anger and jealousy. You are doing this on purpose, to taunt him.

He likes Steve but right now, he hates him for being able to touch and kiss you like this, wishing it was him instead. He leans back against the sofa, eyes trailing down to your ass that Steve is squeezing roughly as he starts making out with you. Your skirt rides up further, exposing the black thong that you’re wearing. You’re rolling your hips, grinding against your boyfriend as you moan into his mouth.

Eddie clenches his hand into a fist, tensing up, he shifts around, uncomfortably, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper a small ‘please’.

He would love nothing more than to be in Steve’s place right now. To hold you and kiss you.

Steve pulls away with a groan, “behave yourself.”

A giggle leaves your lips and after pecking his lips one more time, you pull away and settle back on the couch, smirking at the bulge in your boyfriend’s jeans.

He blushes, running his fingers through his hair, he gets up, trying to hide the obvious tent in his pants, “I’m gonna order the pizza,” he mumbles as he rushes out of the living room without looking at Eddie.

You look at the tv for a moment before your eyes find Eddie’s. He is glaring at you. You smile in satisfaction, raising your hand, you look at your freshly manicured fingernails as you begin to hum some song.

Eddie is seething, this is not the first time you had kissed Steve in front of him but usually it was nothing more than a peck.

He scoffs as he raises the bottle to his lips. Right now, he can’t stand you.

He can’t stand the way you look so pretty, the way you sit there looking so innocent after what you just did. He hates the way the room smells like your sweet perfume despite the lingering smoke in the air. He hates the way you hate him.

He reaches for the blunt, placing it between his lips, he lights it up with the lighter that Steve threw on the table earlier.

You look at him, tilting your head, “what’s wrong?” You ask him sweetly.

He screws up his face, shrugging, “nothing.”

You get up and his eyes widen when you walk towards him. He stares at the way your skirt hugs your body perfectly, the way your top slides up your stomach a little, exposing some of your skin, you’re not wearing a bra, he can see your nipple piercings. You lick your puffy lips and lean down in front of him, placing your hand on his knee, you reach for the blunt between his lips.

He gulps, eyes growing wider and breath hitching in his throat. He licks his lips, staring into your eyes as you inhale the smoke.

Eddie can’t even help it, he leans closer to you, placing his hand over yours, his fingertips trace your skin.

You look down for a second, staring at his hand and at his rings, your gaze softens for a moment and then you look back into his eyes.

He whispers your name, you blink, eyes falling down to his lips.

But it all just lasts for a second before you place the blunt back between his lips and walk away from him. Sitting back down on the sofa and looking away with a clenched jaw.

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.”

Steve walks back into the room, sensing the tension right away. He looks between the two of you, noticing the anger in your eyes and the longing in his.

He sighs, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles at you, “pizza is on the way,” he says as he settles back next to you, “you wanna watch Halloween now?”

“Sure..”

The graduation party is finally over, you no longer have to listen to the awful pop music, red solo cups are all over the place. Steve’s house is a mess. You’re both lucky that his parents aren’t home until the end of next week.

The night started off well, you got ready in his bathroom, had a few drinks before the party even started and made out with him on one of the pool loungers before the guest started coming in.

Now you’re seething, rolling your eyes at him and scoffing at whatever he is saying as you’re cleaning up the mess. It’s silly, you have to admit and you know you’re acting like a brat for no reason but getting the piss out of him will just always be your thing.

You’re proud of him, you really are. He made it, he graduated, got his diploma and he is free to do whatever he wants now. He doesn’t have to go back to high school, he doesn’t have to see Nancy or Jonathan again. You’re just so scared that he will leave you behind, walk away from you and pretend like you were never a part of his life.

Maybe you are overthinking it, maybe you are just hurt from the men before or maybe you are simply broken.

But right now, you’re angry, especially after seeing one of the girls trying to flirt with him. He didn’t pay her any mind, he didn’t even smile at her or react to the way she was eying him up and down, he politely rejected her and pushed her hand off of his arm and yet it pissed you off, why did he let her get this close in the first place?

“Asshole.”

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs as he watches you rush past him.

“You heard me!” You snap at him as you slam the door open and walk towards the counter, slamming your red solo cups down, you turn around and open the fridge, getting yourself a cold coke.

“Why am I an asshole?” He asks with a confused and angry face, closing the door to the luckily empty kitchen.

“You let that bitch touch you!” You yell as you close the fridge, glaring at your boyfriend.

Steve knows that this isn’t the only thing that caused this sudden outburst, you have been acting weird and sensitive for the past few weeks.

“Honey,” he mumbles as he takes a deep breath, putting his hands together he walks towards you, “I pushed her hand off, I didn’t even talk to her!”

You clench your jaw, tearing your gaze away from him, you sigh angrily, “yes, you did.”

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows that you won’t just drop it, you’re gonna mop around and continue trying to get on his nerves.

“Jesus, I didn’t.”

You stare at him with fire in your eyes. Oh, you’re mad, mad. He knows that there is more behind your anger, it’s not just about that girl, you’re not even the jealous type or maybe you are, maybe you were just too good at hiding it before.

Steve shakes his head, walking towards you, he tries to reach out for you but you push his hands away, “just go to your new girlfriend, you seemed to like staring at her fucking tits.”

You both know that he wasn’t staring at her tits, in fact, he wasn’t staring at her at all. He looked uncomfortable and glanced at you, reaching for your hand, he pulled you in and placed his hand on the small of your back, you were there the whole time. He wasn’t staring, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t doing anything.

“Jesus christ,” he sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “are you really starting this again?”

“Starting what?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve’s eyes fall to your chest, staring at your tits.

“Starting some stupid fight just so I will fuck your brains out.”

You tilt your head, scoffing, “why would I want you to fuck me?” You ask him, as though he isn’t your boyfriend, as though you don’t beg for his touches, as though you aren’t obsessed with him.

“Oh, so you’re gonna act like you’re not obsessed with me?”

You scoff, giving him a disapproving look, “trust me, I’m not obsessed with you.”

He rolls his eyes at your words, stepping closer to you, “you’re such a brat,” he says as he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re the brat, Harrington.”

He looks back down at you with darkened eyes. The pout on your face is cute but the mischief in your eyes irritates him.

“What do you want, honey?”

You shrug, biting your lip, you eye him up and down. Grabbing him by his belt, you pull him closer to you. Instantly, his hands reach for your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Standing on your tippy toes, you lean in and give him a kiss, “I want you to stop being a dick.”

He looks into your eyes and raises his brows, he grabs your jaw, “oh, I’m a dick now?”

“Mhmm, yes you are,” you nod, “you’re a dick, Steve Harrington.”

“And you’re kind of a bitch, honey.”

“No, I’m not. You’re just a real asshole.”

“You always need the last word, don’t you?”

You nod, “you know me.”

He shakes his head, tracing your bottom lip, he looks deeply into your eyes, “tell me, what’s your actual problem? Be honest with me.”

You hesitate. You’re scared of something, he can see it in your eyes. That fear has been there for some weeks now.

Your relationship was just two months old, things were still new for the two of you. You went from disliking each other to loving each other, sure, it was weird for you but not for him. Once he touched you for the first time, he easily grew addicted to you and he found himself wondering why he never went after you instead of Nancy, in the first place.

“You’re leaving me,” you say with fear in your eyes and anger in your voice.

He frowns at your words, staring at you in confusion, “huh?”

“You’re leaving me,” you repeat yourself as you cross your arms over your chest again, pouting at him like a pissed off brat, “you’re leaving me alone with all these assholes.”

Just as you and Steve finally found your way to each other, his time at school is over while you stay for one more year, you are not ready to let him go.

“Oh,” he mumbles, finally understanding what you are talking about, he rolls his eyes at your words and sighs, “I’m not leaving you, honey. I only graduated and the last time I checked, you’re the one who’s leaving me next year, while you go off to college, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

You squint your eyes at him, “are you?” You counter, tilting your head up, “are you waiting for me or are you gonna find someone else to fuck?”

He scoffs at you, glaring into your eyes, “fuck? Is that all we’re doing here? Fucking?”

You shrug. Maybe. The anxiety of him wanting to do this just to get back at her still lingers.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, staring at you in disbelief, “baby, you’re my girl. I want you, no one else.”

Your heart flutters at his words, taking the tension off your shoulders a little but you aren’t done yet.

“What about Nancy? Do you still want her?”

He doesn’t understand where this is all coming from, he shakes his head, eyes widening, “no!” He cups your cheeks, “I don’t! Why would I still want her? I want you, only you even though you’re a fucking brat and you get on my nerves all the damn time but fuck, you’re it for me.”

If your past selves could see the two of you now, they would be mortified.

You believe him, you really do. You want to kiss him and hug him, lay your head on his chest and apologize but still, you roll your eyes and look away.

You look away from his hazel eyes, staring at your manicured nails, you shrug, a small sigh leaving your lips.

Steve’s shoulders slump, he loves you but you are so irritating sometimes.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Looking over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie standing there with a smug look on his face. He walks towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You drop your arms to your sides and step away from your boyfriend, sighing in annoyance.

Right, you forgot that your boyfriend’s boyfriend is still here.

Steve looks intrigued, he wants to see what will happen if Eddie takes his teasing a little further.

You cross your arms over your chest and turn away from both men but Eddie grabs your arm, holding you back, he steps in front of you, “where are you going, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

You furrow your brows, glaring at him, “away from you.”

He coos at you, pouting at your words, “I see, nothing changed. You’re still a fucking brat.”

You scoff at his words, slapping his hand off of you, you clench your jaw in anger. How dare he touch you?

His dark eyes stare into yours, he leans closer, eying your lips for a moment, “poor King Steve doesn’t know how to handle you, huh? He doesn’t know how to put you in your place?” He asks as he reaches his hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek softly. “He can’t do it like I can, right?”

You blink as you stare into his eyes, shivering at the feeling of his touch and at the sound of his voice. Your knees grow a little weak and you hate the way your stomach flutters at his words. Your boyfriend is standing there, right behind you, watching the scene unfold.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

You scoff, rolling your eyes, you turn away from him as you start blushing because of him, “whatever.”

Steve gasps, eyes widening in disbelief. That’s all you have to say? Whatever? You sure have a lot to say to him whenever you both bicker.

Eddie chuckles as he eyes you up and down, “you wanna be put in your place, huh?”

Eddie wouldn’t say all this to you if there wasn’t so much tension already, the past few weeks have led up to this exact moment.

You don’t say anything, just growing more flustered, not looking into Eddie’s or Steve’s eyes.

Eddie’s smirk widens, he looks over your shoulder, staring at Steve who shakes his head as a small chuckle falls from his lips.

“Do it.”

Your lips part and your eyes widen, you turn around, staring at your boyfriend in shock.

“Put her in her place,” he murmurs as he reaches for your waist, pulling you into him, “tame the fucking brat.”

You gasp at his words, “S-Steve?”

He chuckles, grasping your face in his large hands, he pulls you closer to kiss your lips, “that’s what you want, right?”

You gulp nervously, blinking. You hesitate and take a deep breath.

“N-No..”

He smirks, looking into your lust filled eyes, “come on, don’t lie to me.”

He pulls you tighter against him, squeezing your waist as he steals another soft kiss from you, “it’s okay, it’s just Eddie.”

Eddie, the only man he is willing to share you with.

You can always say no, he makes sure you know that. You can back down but do you want to?

You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend and turn around to face the man you have been avoiding, your eyes lock with his beautiful ones.

No, you don’t want to back down.

Eddie already knows your answer before even asking that question but he grabs your hand and pulls you closer, “do you want it?” he whispers as he brings his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin.

“Yes.” It comes out as a mere whisper, a nervous one.

Eddie smirks and Steve does too but you can’t see him. The man in front of you looks like he had just won the lottery, his eyes light up and he looks happier than he has ever felt before. He grabs your waist and without wasting another moment, he pulls you flush against him and slams his lips against yours.

For the first time in over a year, you finally feel his touch again, his kiss.

He is desperate in the way he kisses you, not caring about your boyfriend who watches it all unfold with awe in his eyes, he doesn’t care about anything but you. He finally has you back in his arms, even if it’s just for this moment. His hands are so delicate on your skin, his lips move so roughly against yours, he savors every second in which you kiss him back.

He doesn’t know whether to smile or to cry but he leaves the latter for when this night is over, now he enjoys it.

A moan, a whine and a desperate whimper from you, and both men that you have wrapped around your finger are rock hard. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue meets yours and he groans in pleasure when you bury your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark curls.

God, he missed you so much. His heart, his life felt so empty without you. He wants to kiss you softly, he wants to make love to you and show you how much he misses you but he can’t. You are not his, you will never be his and even when Steve is okay with this, he knows that it’s only just a one time thing, it’s just for sex, for rough sex.

Your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, forcing you to break the kiss with Eddie, you whine at that action, chasing after his lips. He chuckles darkly, leaning down, he presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing you and nipping at your skin as he pulls the strap of your top down, “you want him, honey?”

Your eyelashes flutter, your lips part and you stare into Eddie’s eyes, watching the way he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, the way he did before but there is more now, something you can’t or don’t want to read because it will make you sad.

Steve’s lips are soft, making your heart and stomach flutter, “it’s okay, you can have him if you want,” he murmurs, “I don’t mind.”

You have questions, so many of them but you don’t bother to speak them out now, instead you find yourself nodding, “I want you both.”

Eddie smirks, eyes lighting up.

“Oh yeah?” Steve whispers, “you want him to fuck the brat out of you, baby?”

“Mhmm.”

Steve leads you and Eddie upstairs and into his room, he holds your hand while you hold Eddie’s, looking back at him to catch him staring at your ass, watching your skirt move back and forth as you walk up the stairs. He licks his lips before he raises his head to look into your eyes.

The moment you step into your boyfriend’s room, you suddenly feel nervous but also intrigued. Steve locks the door and then he walks you over to his bed, pushing you down, he grabs your chin and caresses your cheek, smirking at you and leaning down to peck your lips before he steps away, “you’re awfully quiet, honey. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you scoff.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “Munson, come here.”

Eddie walks over to him, glancing at him, Steve smirks, “she’s all yours.”

You stare at your boyfriend, almost in shock. There have been moments where he got jealous whenever men just looked at you, here he is, giving you away to his friend like it means nothing to him. Which, you don’t actually mind because it’s Eddie. Yet, you glare at him.

“What’s wrong?” He laughs, “you wanted to be tamed and I’m not exactly brat tamer material, isn’t that what you said?”

Eddie looks amused by Steve’s words, he chuckles to himself as he looks at you.

“And don’t act like you don’t think about him, we both know you do,” Steve murmurs as he sits down beside you, bringing his hand up to your face, he cradles your cheek, you still glare at him just like before but now you look flustered, clearly not wanting Eddie to know that you still think about him, “look at him.”

You blink, shaking your head a little.

Steve’s hazel eyes flicker with mischief, lips curling up into a smirk, “you don’t want him to know that you still think about him?”

“Steve.”

He ignores you, “you don’t want him to know that you dream of him?” He asks as he kisses your cheek softly before he turns your head towards Eddie, forcing you to look at him, “I heard you whispering his name the other night, you know?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise.

You grow flustered, both men notice the way you squeeze your thighs together.

“Is that so, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks as he steps towards you.

You look at him through your lashes, ignoring the way he makes you feel just by looking at you with his hungry eyes.

Steve lets go of you as Eddie places his fingers under your chin, “you dream about me, huh?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “you wish,” you mumble in annoyance, “I haven’t thought about you in a long time.”

So you still wanna act like you hate him? Eddie shakes his head, laughing, “a few days is what you call a long time?”

“Not a few days, a whole year.”

He raises his brows, “a whole year, huh?” He asks in amusement, “that’s when you started dating Byers.”

You press your lips together, frowning at him and at your boyfriend who chuckles yet again.

“He didn’t satisfy you enough? You still thought about me?”

“Shut up,” you mumble as you raise your hand and slap his hand away.

His eyes darken and he looks at you in a way that would leave your past self shivering but you are not the girl that you used to be, you are not the fool that was once in love with him, at least that’s what you are telling yourself.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?”

“You’re a depraved little slut, you know that right?”

You shrug, licking your lips as you feel yourself getting wet at his words.

“You’re sitting here next to your boyfriend, asking another man to fuck you,” Eddie smirks.

“It was his idea,” you shrug, ignoring Steve’s chuckle, “maybe he wants you to fuck him too, maybe he’s a depraved slut as well, just like you Eddie.”

Eddie raises his brows, tilting his head at you as he kneels down in front of you, his gentle hands grasping your ankles, he takes your shoes off slowly.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “I wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to fuck other girls, not just one other girl, you wanted all of them, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want me anymore. So, who are you calling a depraved slut? You are the biggest of them all.”

Steve glances at Eddie, noticing the regret in his eyes.

Eddie didn’t want anyone else but you, he didn’t want any other girl, he just wanted you. The things he said to you were nothing but lies, to make you leave, for your own sake.

The tone in your voice is masked with anger but the pain is still lingering.

“You’re an asshole,” you say as you look deeply into his eyes, “I hate you.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, maybe his heart would hurt if he didn’t see the softness in your eyes, you don’t hate him.

“And you’re a fucking brat. A very mean brat.”

He gets back up after taking your shoes off, he puts his hand around your throat, watching the way your eyes widen and flash with lust, you always loved this.

“I bet you’ve been acting like this on purpose, huh? You wanted him to put you in your place?”

You blink, breathing faster as you look up at Eddie, well aware that Steve is staring at you with a smirk on his face.

“Answer me,” Eddie orders.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, what?”

“I’ve been doing it on purpose,” you admit, your cheeks growing hot at your own words, “I wanted him to put me in my place.”

Steve gapes at you, you never ever admit anything like this to him, you never give in, you never let him hear what he wants to hear. You only ever stop acting like a brat after he makes you cum a few times.

You bite your lip, eyes raking over Eddie’s arm, the bracelet around his wrist, the tattoos on his arm, his shoulders that got broader. His hand around your neck, he pulls you up, forcing you to stand in front of him.

He brings you closer until his nose bumps against yours, “poor Steve doesn’t know how to tame the brat, huh?” He whispers against your lips as his eyes remain locked with yours, “it’s okay, that’s what you have me for.”

He kisses you softly, one last time before he rips your top off, throwing it on the ground along with your bra, taking a moment to admire your naked chest, touching your boobs and giving them both a squeeze before he turns you around and shoves you down on Steve’s bed, in front of him.

A whimper leaves your mouth when Eddie reaches for your hips and pulls your ass up, using both hands to tear the skirt into shreds, he rips it off and throws it on the ground.

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as do yours, you gasp, calling his name loudly.

“What?” Eddie chuckles, “your rich boyfriend can buy you ten more of those, right?” He asks before his palm meets your ass roughly, a loud smack! echoing through the room, followed by a whiny moan.

Steve’s eyes darken and he looks down at you to make sure that you’re okay, pushing your hair out of your face, he caresses your cheek.

“Don’t worry, Harrington. She loves it even rougher,” Eddie murmurs as he smacks your other asscheek, “isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You moan, nodding desperately as you bite your lip.

He chuckles as he watches you arching your back, your light pink thong is soaked already and Eddie can’t help but moan at the sight of it, he teases you, bringing his fingers up to your pussy, “who are you so wet for? Me or Steve?”

Your boyfriend touches your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking when you look at him with pleading eyes.

You hear Eddie shuffling around behind you, taking his belt off, you already know what he’s about to do and it only makes you feel more desperate.

“Me or Steve?” He asks again, with more anger in his voice.

“Answer him, honey.”

You don’t.

You want him to take it further.

Suddenly you jolt forward and a cry falls from your lips as you feel the leather smacking against your ass, tears well up in your eyes.

“Dude!”

Eddie chuckles at the shocked and angry look on Steve’s face, his body tenses up and he looks down at you with worry in his eyes.

“M-More..”

Steve’s eyes widen, shock ripples through him. He always knew that you were kinky, that you like it rough but not this rough.

“Please.”

“You see that, Steve?” Eddie murmurs as he raises his hand, using the belt to spank you again. The bulge in his pants is growing, his dick twitches at the sound of your moan, at the sight of your half naked body, “she loves it.”

“You’re so fucking dirty, honey.”

“Yes, she is,” Eddie groans.

He spanks you, again and again. And even after he is done, you are still begging for more, despite knowing that your ass will hurt. Steve watches in awe and disbelief, no snarky words or comments leave your mouth, just desperate moans and whimpers.

He swallows, your hand resting on his knee, squeezing it tightly as Eddie takes your ruined panties off and throws them at him, chuckling when he catches them and sniffs at them.

“Perv,” you mumble as you look up at Steve with a smirk on your face.

Eddie reaches for your waist, grabbing you tightly as he manhandles you on your back, he catches the surprised look on your face. Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground.

For a moment, he lets himself admire you. It’s been too long since he had seen you like this. Your bare body, your soft skin, your pretty hair laying on your naked shoulders, your eyes looking into his with desperation, with a softened gaze he hasn’t seen in so long.

You eye him up and down, you want him just like he wants you. You squeeze your thighs together, sighing when Steve starts playing with your hair, “you look so beautiful, honey.”

“Yes you do,” Eddie whispers, he leans over you, taking the black scrunchie off of your wrist, he uses it to tie his hair back, “you are the prettiest girl.”

Your heart flutters but at the same time, it hurts.

You roll your eyes at his words, clearly not believing a word he says.

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Steve chuckles at your words, while Eddie scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels down in front of the bed, he grabs you, pulling you closer, harshly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and begins to nip at your inner thighs roughly, kissing and biting your skin before he finally tastes you again.

His eyes flutter closed and he moans against you as he grabs your hips tighter than before, slipping his tongue into your wet pussy.

You moan loudly, reaching into his hair, you pull at it.

“F-Fuck!”

Eddie starts to eat you out, more intensely, more desperately than ever before. He needs you, he needs to feel you in every way possible. He grabs your ass harshly, squeezing your sensitive skin as he devours you.

You arch your back in pleasure, feeling his tongue plunging deeper inside of you. You look down at him, eyes locking with his, you allow yourself to look at him, only for one moment before your eyes roll back and you shut them.

You moan even louder than before when you feel Steve’s lips on your neck, his hands on your boobs, squeezing and grabbing them roughly as his fingers toy with your pierced nipples.

Eddie’s nose bumps against your clit as he shakes his head against you, licking and eating you out like a man starved. He shows you how desperate he is to touch you again.

So much pleasure runs through your body, the feeling is euphoric.

“Feeling good, honey?”

“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper.

Steve smirks, he leans down to kiss your lips as he twists and tugs your nipple. You shut your thighs, caging Eddie in and he only moans in response. He licks a stripe up your pussy and begins to flick his tongue on your clit as he pushes a finger inside of you.

“I missed your sweet pussy, baby.”

Not wanting to hear any of his praises, you pull his hair harsher than before as you make out with Steve.

Eddie groans, using his free hand to push your hand out of his hair, he slams it against the mattress and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding it against the bed.

That is too intimate for you, you don’t hold hands with people you don’t love, Eddie doesn’t love you.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, kissing your clit teasingly, he glances at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, your free hand in your boyfriend's hair as you kiss him.

His chest is filled with jealousy, you’re gentle with him, you’re soft with Steve, loving. That’s something he will never get again and it breaks his heart.

Eddie doesn’t stop after making you cum, he only keeps going. Fucking you with his fingers, keeping the rings on because he knows how much you used to love it. He covers your thighs in hickeys, smacking your soaked cunt when you call him names. Eddie is rough with you, he devours you for both yours and his pleasure and he enjoys knowing that not even Steve can make you feel like this.

He loves knowing that he watches you two, that he sees the way you yearn for him, the way you moan for him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your voice sounds like music to his ears, it makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He only stops when he feels like he might cum before he even gets to be inside of you.

He pulls away and admires the view, watching the way you are shaking, the way your cunt flutters, glistening from your juices and his spit. Your thighs are covered in hickeys, fingerprints on your hips.

Steve is being too soft with you, he caresses your cheek and whispers praises into your ear, as though he wasn’t the one suggesting this. Growing annoyed with the sight of it, he finally takes the rest of his clothes off and flips you over on your stomach again.

“Sit your ass down, Harrington,” Eddie orders, gesturing to the chair in the corner, “watch and learn.”

Steve raises his brows in surprise, his cheeks grow red and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him or you. You look smug and it only makes Steve blush harder, he rolls his eyes at you as he does what the other man told him to do.

You lick your lips, eying the bulge in Steve’s pants, “take your cock out, Stevie,” you whine, “please.”

Eddie chuckles behind you, you feel the bed dip under you. You swallow nervously, stomach growing tighter at the feeling of his hands on your hips, “listen to your girl, Steve.”

Steve blinks, nodding at his words, “f-fuck.. yeah, yeah..” He stammers, unbuckling his belt hastily, he pushes his pants out just enough to take his dick out.

You moan while Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of Steve’s dick, “holy shit, man.”

Your boyfriend looks smug, smirking as he looks at the two of you.

“Yeah, he is so much bigger than you, Eddie,” you tease, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your face, “makes me feel better too.”

He glares, holding your hips tighter, “oh yeah?” He murmurs as he takes his hard cock and slips it through your wet folds until it touches your sensitive clit.

“Ah– shit,” you whimper.

“Touch yourself, Steve. Look at her, watch how I ruin your pretty little girlfriend, I’m gonna make her mine again.”

You shake your head in response, wanting to protest but only whimpers leave your mouth when he pushes inside of you, splitting you open. You’re too sensitive, too overwhelmed, too weak already. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall down against the pillows.

“Forget it,” Steve growls as he fists his cock, keeping his eyes on you, “she’s mine forever.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, watching how you struggle to hold yourself up, you whine and moan.

“We’ll see.”

He pushes in deeper, placing both hands on your asscheeks, he spreads them, watching how your wet pussy takes his cock. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed, he can’t even help but grin when he feels your walls clenching around him at the sound of his moans.

“E-Eddie,” you whine into the pillow, gripping the bed sheets tightly, “I-I… please.”

He dreamed of this moment, he thought about you day and night while you were apart, he missed this, he missed the feeling of being inside you, of feeling your warm pussy around him, of hearing your moans, he just missed you so much.

“Please what?”

You are drooling all over the pillow, your eyes well up with tears and you can’t stop the whines and moans from escaping.

“Please move, please sir.”

“Good girl,” Eddie grunts as he squeezes your ass, he pulls out completely before he slams back inside of you roughly with a loud moan.

“Ah– f-fuck.. your cock feels so good,” you cry out.

“Oh yeah?” He breathes as he reaches for your hair, tugging at it to raise your head up to make you look at him. Eddie starts thrusting, rougher and rougher. “Look at him, baby.”

Steve jerks off and fuck, he looks so good. He moans loudly, biting his lip as he moves his fist faster.

“Your pussy feels so perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, “so tight and wet for me.”

“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.”

Your juices are slipping down your thighs, your pussy gets tighter around his cock, you feel filthy, especially when you hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as Eddie pounds you into the mattress.

The room is filled with moans and whimpers. Tears are running down your cheeks, your body is already shaking, your next orgasm approaching. The coil in your stomach tightens as he fucks you deeper than before.

“O-Oh fuck, stop clenching around me, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie growls.

You squeal when you feel his hand around your throat. Suddenly, he has you pinned against his back, one hand remaining on your throat while the other roams your body, playing with your tits and sliding down your stomach.

“Honey, you look so fucking good,” Steve grunts, moaning louder than before. He stares at you, he stares at the way Eddie’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, he watches the way tears run down your cheek, the way you hold your hand over Eddie’s, grasping it tightly as you moan louder and louder.

Eddie kisses your shoulder and your neck, “you’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, “are you close, baby?”

“Mhmmm,” you nod desperately, “s-so close.”

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, Eddie! Please!”

He looks over at Steve, “should I let her cum?”

Steve nods, looking just as desperate as you, “yes, fuck.. Let her cum.”

You feel him twitching inside of you, he is close, just like you, just like Steve. Eddie whimpers into your ear, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit, he grasps your chin, looking into your eyes before they flutter shut, “cum for me, baby,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours.

Unlike the other kisses before, this one is soft and sweet, enough to transform tears of pleasure into tears of sadness.

You gush around him, cumming for the last time this night. Eddie moans against you, unwillingly breaking the kiss. You push away from him, letting yourself fall back down just in time for him to pull out, with a groan, he releases all over your ass and back.

You shut your eyes, whimpering at the sensitive feelings rushing through you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, a happy chuckle leaving his lips.

You try to catch your breath, try to stop the tears from falling, you don’t want him to see how vulnerable you are, how hurt you still are by his past actions but you missed him so much and you feel ashamed for it because you know that this means nothing to him, just like it never meant anything to him back then.

Your boyfriend is here, the one that you love with all your heart even when you haven’t told him yet, too scared of rejection, too scared of being pushed away by him the way you were by the other man.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there like this but the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your skin, the feeling of him cleaning your back gently before he presses a soft kiss to your bruised ass suddenly makes you cry harder.

Soft sobs leave your lips as all your feelings come catching up to you.

Steve’s eyes flash with concern, he looks at Eddie, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in headlights as his face grows pale and his eyes show nothing but panic.

Steve rushes towards you, using his throw blanket to cover your bare body, he pushes your hair to the side and touches your back softly, “honey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?” He asks in concern.

Eddie doesn’t even bother to put his shirt on, standing there in nothing but his jeans, he stares at you as his heart begins to race.

Steve kisses your shoulder, your arm, your knuckles and then your cheek, “talk to me, baby,” he whispers, “are you hurt?”

Eddie puts his hand on his forehead as tears well up in his eyes, did he take things too far? Did he hurt you?

You shake your head, “no.. I’m not, I’m okay.”

He should feel relieved but he can’t, not when you are crying after you just had sex.

Your glassy eyes meet the ones of your boyfriend, your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, you push yourself up a little, clutching the blanket against your chest, “d-do you love me?”

Your voice sounds broken, small and vulnerable.

Steve has never seen you like this. His heart squeezes in his chest and he furrows his brows, he nods, cupping your cheeks, “of course, honey. I love you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with truth, “I love you so much.”

Your eyes flash with relief, you nod, “thank you.”

He frowns at your words, not understanding why you are thanking him for loving you but it quickly catches up to him when he looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s tear filled and guilty ones.

You loved him and he didn’t love you back.

At least that’s what you believed.

Eddie looks heartbroken, he looks sad and he looks like he hates himself because he pushed you away before. He loves you, he is in love with you.

Eddie’s bottom lip quivers just like yours does, he blinks, trying to push the tears back as he reaches for his shirt, throwing the black material over his head.

Steve feels a sudden longing for the man in front of him, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to leave you again.

“I’m gonna go,” Eddie mumbles quietly.

Steve can see the way your eyes flash with sadness, the way your body tenses. He doesn’t want you to hurt, he doesn’t want Eddie to hurt.

Steve wipes your tears away and he looks into your eyes. You love Eddie, maybe that should scare him but it doesn’t because he knows that you love him too and that’s all that matters.

“Don’t go.”

Eddie looks at him in confusion, “what?”

“Please don’t go,” Steve says, “come here.”

Eddie hesitates, he looks at the back of your head, your quiet sniffles break his heart all over again.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” It’s okay to love her too.

Eddie nods, walking closer to you, he looks at you with sad eyes, watching the way you clutch Steve’s hand tightly as you cry. Tears stream down your face just like they did back then.

He sits down beside you, reaching out to touch your shoulder but you flinch away from him.

He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for everything, for what I said. I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Steve rubs the back of your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Lying?” You whisper.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I lied to you about everything that night. I didn’t want anyone else, there was never anyone else, there was no other girl, ever. You were always the only one for me, you still are.”

You furrow your brows, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel relieved but angry at the same time.

“Those things I said about you, I didn’t mean them. God, I was so stupid. I wanted you so bad, still do,” he says as tears run down his cheeks.

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth.

You still long for him the way you always did, you still want him, you still love him.

You love them both.

“I was always so crazy about you, fuck– it hurt so much to push you away, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Then why did you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

“I didn’t want to ruin your life.”

Your heart breaks but the anger is stronger.

“But you did, you did ruin my life. You broke my heart.”

Regret and guilt is what he felt for so many months after he had pushed you away but especially now that he has to look into your tearfilled eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry, I regretted every single day,” he whispers, scooting closer to you. He reaches his hand out again, this time, you don’t flinch when he touches you, he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I love you.”

You sniffle, more tears well up in your eyes as you finally hear those words that you have craved so bad.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“Y-You do?” You whisper.

He nods, smiling as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I do.”

Steve can’t even help it, he looks down at your hand that is still holding his tightly, he smiles.

Maybe this isn’t ideal but it works for him.

Eddie grew on him, he didn’t understand just how much he did but he doesn’t mind, especially now when he sees the happy look in your eyes, when you still hold his hand as you let Eddie wrap his arms around you.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck and squeeze him tightly as he holds you, cupping the back of your neck and breathing in your scent.

You are happy with him but you are even happier with Eddie back in your life, that's makes it all worth it.

As Steve watches the two of you, he knows that everything is going to be okay because at the end of the day, you all have each other.

No more pain, no more broken hearts or any missing pieces.

You got each other forever.

tagging my faves <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steddie x reader smut

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lonely-cowboy · 1 month

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one and only ↠ arthur morgan masterlist. main masterlist.

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader summary: although you left weeks ago, arthur still feels guilty for all he did (and didn't) do to you. he just can't seem to get you out of his damn head. word count: 3.7k warnings: none really? just sad arthur

author's note: AHAHAHA i'm finally back, and i present to you my first arthur morgan fic!! for more info on this request and a lil update on my comings and goings, look here <3

On a typical night, going to the saloon would’ve been a treat for Arthur. When he was able to spend a night out – some nights with the gang, other nights just with you– it meant he was safe. He didn’t have to worry about Pinkertons on his tail or whatever trivial chores Ms. Grimshaw had in store for him the next day. On a typical night, Arthur would’ve enjoyed the saloon.

But tonight was far from typical.

Arthur found himself huddled in a corner with a whiskey in hand, mindlessly fidgeting with the splintered wood of his lonesome table. Though his hat was tipped low to ward off any friendly patrons, Arthur’s eyes were focused on the bright moon outside. Its pale light filtered through the dusty window, casting shadows across Arthur’s rough features.

Tonight, Arthur was not treating himself. He didn’t deserve such a thing after all the Godawful things he said to you. No, tonight, Arthur would punish himself. He would drink and drink and drink until he was so overwhelmed with misery that the only way to cope was with a good, hard fight. He’d find the biggest, sturdiest patron he could, sauntering over so audaciously that any right-minded man would already be angry with him. And without a word, Arthur would punch that man square in the face, waiting readily for a retaliating punch. After that, he’d let his hands drop to his sides, leaving him defenseless as he took punch after punch in punishment.

Tomorrow was sure to be one hell of a morning.

With a soft grunt, Arthur turned his gaze away from the moon. He didn’t deserve to look on something so pure, something with beauty only contested by yours.

Instead, he turned his attention to the crowd of rowdy drunkards and dancing fools, eyeing them for his victim.

Lord, he deserved to be hit. Punched, kicked, bitch-slapped.

And still, none of it would be punishment enough for all he did to you.

Arthur cursed at the memory of that night only a few weeks ago, the night you finally left him. He didn’t blame you for leaving– oh, no, he could never blame you. You had every right to leave. Truth be told, he was surprised you stuck around as long as you did.

But that night… he could never be angry at you for that. Not when you were oh-so-sweet, looking up at him with those big, helpless eyes and praising him with love he surely didn’t deserve. You were nothing but good to him as you confessed your fears of Dutch and where his needless obsessions would lead Arthur. You begged him to run away with you, leave the gang behind and quit risking his life every damn day. You were so desperate for him to leave, tears welling in your eyes as you clutched the front of his shirt… nuzzling your nose against his… peppering kisses along his lips and cheeks…

And what did he do?

Told you it was a nice dream, of course. Sure, he had his fair share of fantasies, mostly that involved a quiet life with you. But that was all it was to Arthur, a fantasy. He could never actually leave the gang. No, he could never. Surely you knew that, didn’t you? You knew Arthur well enough to know he’d never leave these good people behind. ‘course, you couldn’t understand, could you? You’d been with the gang barely even a year, you couldn’t understand the love he held for these people. These people who weren’t just his gang but his family. How could you ask him to leave his family?

And that’s when Arthur knew you were gone for good. The way you had stared at him then, pulling away from him as if he had just stabbed you in the heart– in a way, he had. The tears still trickled down your cheeks in steady streams, but your desperation was quick to turn to hurt, to anger.

“Thought maybe I was your family,” you mumbled then. “I see I was mistaken.”

What a goddamn fool he was to watch you leave. Not a word of protest left his lips as you leaped onto your horse and galloped off into the night, so easily abandoning the life you had built there, your life with him.

The first few days, Arthur was sure you’d return at any minute. He dodged Dutch’s requests to join in on whatever senseless plans he had, sending Charles or Javier in his stead and instead disturbing Ms. Grimshaw with questions of “Anything else I can do for ya?” Whatever it took to keep him busy and in camp, awaiting your return.

Every minute of every day, his eyes were glued to the treeline, ears perked and waiting for the sound of horse hooves. One evening, Arthur had been fetching water from the lake when he heard the thundering of hooves, some surprised voices. Immediately, he abandoned the bucket, tossing it carelessly to the ground before sprinting back to camp.

You were back! You had to be back, it had to be you.

Quickly was he proven wrong. It was only Charles, a large buck strapped to the back of his horse.The excitement hadn’t been in celebration of your return, no, only in glee that at least one of the men was finally doing his part around camp.

My, that’ll keep us fed for days!

Finally, someone’s puttin’ in the work…

Arthur turned away with a frustrated grumble. Where the hell were you?

He made his way back to the shoreline to retrieve the forgotten bucket, though not without noticing the snickers and jeers from Bill and Micah. Arthur had made no effort to hide his desperation to find you; the two of them had seen him drop his bucket and rush to camp clear as day.

Not that Arthur cared. So what if they laughed at him? He wasn’t ashamed for loving you the way he did.

Eventually, Arthur could no longer keep himself busy with chores. Dutch oh-so-terribly “needed” him for this job, some train robbery that would take him far outside of camp. Reluctant as he was, the work kept him distracted for the week.

Except at nights when he lay on his bedroll– listening to Sean’s snoring and John’s sleep talking– wishing you were there beside him. He’d lay with his arm slung around your shoulders, pulling you close as you rested your head against his chest. He would trace patterns along your soft skin as you rambled about an argument you had with a local seller over the price of peaches or the old letter you and Tilly had found from Uncle’s second wife. Arthur would watch you intently as you spoke, burying his nose into your hair while he pressed delicate kisses to the top of your head.

But then the job was done, and Arthur was back at camp thinking of you every second of the day, no longer just at night.

By then, Arthur began to doubt your return. He worried about never seeing you again, loathing himself for all the terrible things he said and wondering if those would be the last words he ever said to you. Arthur was never much of a religious man, but he prayed to God that wouldn’t be the case.

For a few days after that successful robbery, Arthur tried to keep a steady head. He tried to go about his business as usual, which only proved impossible when he was so distracted by you. So in a final attempt to put himself at ease, Arthur took a few days away from camp to just… spend some time on his lonesome. He occupied himself with hunting, fishing, riding, the usual.

But mostly, he remained huddled in his tent with his journal in his lap. He focused on drawing but found that he could only draw you. He couldn’t help it. For Christ’s sake, he couldn’t even draw his damn horse who was standing right in front of him! When his attempts at drawing failed, he tried to write which proved equally as miserable.

With nowhere to go and nothing to ease his worries, Arthur decided he needed to be punished for what he did. Maybe then you’d come back to him. And if you didn’t… maybe it would at least help him to not feel so guilty. He doubted it.

That brought him to the nearest saloon. And there he sat, scanning its patrons for someone strong enough to give him a good beating.

But his eyes were drawn instead to a young couple tucked away in a far-off corner, holding each other tightly as they swayed to the hum of music. Arthur watched as they clung to each other, away from the noise of the saloon and huddled away in their own little world. The moonlight fell beautifully upon the pair, revealing bright teeth that smiled lovingly and crinkled eyes as they shared a quiet laugh. Their love was radiating so purely off of them, making it as though they were the only two people in the world, the only ones they would ever need.

For a moment, Arthur thought he saw you. He could picture you sitting across from him now, the image so vivid with the way you would lean your elbows on the table just to be closer to him. You would watch him silently, though he could see hundreds of thoughts behind your eyes. And somehow, Arthur would know that one of those hundred thoughts was a desire to dance. So without another word, he would stand and offer his hand to you, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile as you beamed up at him and took his hand in yours. He’d pull you flush against his chest, one hand holding yours while the other found its place on your hip. You’d knock his hat back affectionately, complaining how you couldn’t see his pretty eyes. Arthur would laugh quietly, making some remark on how they weren’t that pretty, a claim you’d be quick to refute.

But no, that couldn’t happen because now you were gone. His beautiful girl, the kindest soul had had ever known… The one so perfectly crafted to him he couldn’t even begin to imagine a life without you. Even now, when you were nothing but dust in the wind, Arthur couldn’t imagine his life without you.

What an idiot, what a fucking idiot.

Only he could be so foolish as to give up something as perfect as you. Goddamnit, he should’ve run away with you. He should’ve taken your hand and run. Run far, far away and never once look back. Sure, he loved the gang, but his affection for them could never outweigh what he felt for you. He knew then that he could never be as happy as he was when you were in his life.

“You fool…,” Arthur growled as he pushed away from the table and marched outside.

This late at night, the small town roads should have been empty but they were teeming with handfuls of people, workers scurrying to get home and families enjoying a cool evening walk. Arthur watched them from the saloon’s porch, leaning against one of its beams as he lit a cigarette. It was hopeless to think it would take the edge off.

He released a billow of smoke from the side of his mouth as he glanced up at the moon. He could only hope that somewhere– wherever you were– you were looking up at it too, sharing this last peaceful moment with him.

“Thought that was you in there.”

Great. Now he was imagining your voice, the calming sound bouncing around his skull in a dull echo. Perhaps this was punishment enough, yearning for you in this way.

“I know you heard me.”

Arthur couldn’t help but be drawn to the sound of your voice, his eyes searching for its source despite knowing you wouldn’t be there.

Only… you were there. Standing in the road with your arms crossed protectively over your chest, there you were.

Jesus, he was hallucinating now?

Arthur must have looked absolutely dumbfounded at the sight of you, your lips shaping into a small smirk.

“I’m real, I promise.”

Arthur’s chest blossomed with warmth, heat creeping up his neck in a bashful blush. How was it possible you knew him so well that you could immediately tell– just from a look– he thought he was hallucinating?

Arthur watched intently as you moved to toe the dirt road, your nervous tension clear in the set of your shoulders and pursed lips. He put out his cigarette quickly out of respect for you, his eyes locked on you even as he tossed it to the ground. He wanted to move closer to run his calloused hands along the skin of your arms or even just to feel the warmth of your proximity. But he remained glued to the porch, his boots suddenly too heavy for him to lift his feet.

A long silence passed as Arthur stared longingly at you, your attention focused on a particularly fascinating pebble that you nudged idly. Arthur wished you would just look at him, but he knew he didn’t deserve to lose himself in the comfort of your eyes.

The silence finally ended when you kicked your pebble too far, just out of reach. With your only source of entertainment gone, you looked up at Arthur. He could see the way your shoulders sagged, though from exhaustion or disappointment he couldn’t tell.

The look on your face was expectant, waiting. He supposed you wanted him to say something. It was only fair. He was yet to say a single word, and with the way he just let you walk away all those nights ago… He owed it to you.

“What’re you doin’ out so late?” Arthur rasped. “It ain’t safe for ya.”

“You know I can handle my own just fine.”

“I know.”

And that was the truth. Arthur did know how well you could handle yourself, feisty as you were. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything in his power to keep you safe. You didn’t need him, but he would always be there if ever you did.

Assuming, of course, you would have him around.

A garbled noise left Arthur’s lip as he struggled to find his words. It was so difficult when you looked at him like that, your brows pinched together with confusion. You didn’t look at him coldly as you should have, only with concern.

“You’re, uh… you’re still around,” he said.

You idiot, ‘course she’s still around, she’s standing right in front of ya!

“Sure am.”

You moved to the side as a pair of young men squeezed passed you to get into the saloon. It was then that Arthur noticed how exposed the two of you were. Being just off the main road and standing so far apart– your voices echoing into the night– he was sure everyone in town could hear your conversation.

Pushing off the porch beam, Arthur took a step back and gestured to a set of wooden chairs shoved up against the saloon wall.

“Why don’t ya come take a seat, sweet–?”

Arthur cleared his throat, hoping it was enough to hide the way he so desperately longed to call you sweetheart. But you had heard. He saw it in your knowing smile as you trudged up the porch steps, taking Arthur up on his offer and sitting down gracefully. Cautiously, Arthur took the seat beside you.

From the way you were sitting– with your legs crossed tightly and your hands gripping your knee anxiously– Arthur could tell you wanted to say something. He dared not speak, fearing that if he did you might never speak to him again.

“It was harder to leave than I thought,” you admitted suddenly, your words coming out in one quick breath. Another pause. “Guess I understand why you couldn’t leave the gang…”

Arthur sucked in a breath as he scratched his chin nervously. “Darlin’, I shouldn’t ‘ave–”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I get it.”

For a terrible second, Arthur considered ending it at that, choosing to be silent. Again.

No, he couldn’t do that to you, not again. You deserved better than that.

“No, it ain’t right. I did wrong by you. I shoulda been better.”

There was a flicker of hope in your eyes, mixed with the lingering pain.

Arthur released a steady exhale as he took a moment to consider his words. Why was it so difficult to talk to you? You had only ever given him a safe, comfortable space to talk, to be vulnerable. Why was he struggling so damn bad now?

“Tell me what’s on your mind, cowboy,” you murmured, the same way you always did when his long silences persisted. “Why’re you havin’ a hard time?”

Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He deserved to be yelled at, he deserved your anger. But here you were, patient as ever, speaking in the kindest of tones. Lord, he didn’t deserve you.

“I guess… I dunno. I don’t wanna mess this up. I’m scared, darlin’… So goddamn scared.”

“Of what?”

“Losing you.”

There it was, plain and simple: he didn’t want to lose you, ever.

He could barely survive a few weeks without you, how on earth would he survive his whole lifetime? However long it was.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Arthur repeated in a whisper, turning away from you timidly. “I can’t.”

He let his hat hang low over his eyes, hiding from your intense gaze. Only seconds later did he see you out of the corner of his eye, peeking forward to meet his eyes under the brim of his hat. Carefully– as if trying not to spook a startled horse– you reached up and tipped his hat back.

“Can’t see those pretty eyes.”

Arthur risked a glance at you. You offered him a loving smile.

In that moment, he let himself hope, hope that his worst fear might not come true after all.

“No need for all that, they ain’t–”

“Oh, hush now. They’re real pretty.”

“Ain’t nothin’ special…”

“They’re special to me. Ya know why?”

Arthur hummed in encouragement, his brows furrowing. He couldn’t believe there was anything that special about his eyes.

“’cause whenever I look in them, all I see is love.”

And when Arthur looked at you then, he looked at you with just that.

“Well… it’s ‘cause I love you.”

It didn’t matter if you left him, it didn’t matter if this was the last time he ever saw you. It wouldn’t change how he felt, would never, ever change the way his heart swelled with so much love at the mere thought of you that he didn’t even know how to handle it. He’d love you if you left, he’d love you if you stayed. He’d love you with every breath, even his last. And even then, when he was long gone, he’d still love you.

Arthur waited for you to speak, the anticipation clawing at his throat. He swallowed hard to avoid choking on his own words, but the longer you said nothing, the more he feared it would be of no use.

“I can’t afford to lose a love like that,” you whispered sincerely.

Maybe you didn’t say it, but Arthur could see it in your eyes. The same love in his eyes was reflected in your own.

“Talk about my eyes all ya like… they sure ain’t as pretty as yours.”

Your smile widened, a visible warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

Arthur shoved his worry aside as he stood from his chair, offering his hand to you. You didn’t take it immediately, staring at his scarred skin silently. Arthur was hit by a wave of insecurity; he was almost tempted to pull his hand away with a quick apology. But before he could, your soft hand slid into his, and you let him pull you to your feet.

Christ, how had he ever gone this long without your warm touch? Already, his heart was pounding faster. And you were only holding his hand! He was sure he might implode the second he pulled your body against his.

Thankfully, he didn’t.

You took a step closer to Arthur, your chest nearly flush against his. Your hand remained entwined with his, your other coming to rest on his shoulder. With some hesitance, Arthur snaked his hand beneath your shirt and placed it on your hip, pulling you ever slightly closer. His finger brushed against your skin, reveling in your warmth.

Inside the saloon, music continued to play. Faint as it was out on the porch, that didn’t stop the two of you from swaying to the gentle rhythm. You then began to hum softly, so softly that Arthur could barely hear that sweet voice of yours. He leaned closer to hear you, his cheek coming to rest atop your head in a way that felt all too natural. He worried then that you might pull away, but you did quite the opposite.

You rested your head against Arthur’s chest, snuggling closer to his warm skin and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Your humming slowly died down as you focused on the racing beat of his heart. This was a different kind of music to your ears.

With your humming gone, Arthur took it upon himself to keep it up. He mumbled along the words to the muffled tune, pressing kisses to the top of your head between every breath. Together, you stayed wrapped in each other's arms. Every now and then, Arthur added a flourish that had you grinning like a little girl, his strong arms twirling you around and around.

As he pulled you back to him, you stopped short to admire his rugged features. A smile tugged at your lips, one that Arthur wanted to kiss right off.

Instead, he met your unyielding gaze, mirroring your loving look.

“I ain’t losin’ you again,” he muttered.

He spoke it as a promise, a promise that he would never let you go again. Because if he did… he could never live with himself. No, you were the only thing that mattered, the only thing worth keeping around. He would never lose you again, his one and only.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan

192 notes · View notes

mingigoo · 11 months

Note

1- Mingi

2- High school au

3- Prompts 12, 50, 53, and 56.

4- 18+ (some fluff but also rough?)

5- Reader is shy and a lil depressed while Mingi is one of the popular guys who everyone thinks doesn’t have any emotions but it’s actually a softie. (I love cliches what can I say). Can the genre be Strangers to lovers? Maybe he finds her crying in a classroom and that’s how they met. Also can there be a size kink and voice kink please?

Thank you!

nightmare, daydream || s.mg (m)

📓pairing ⇢ tutor! (fem) reader x popular boy! Mingi

📓 summary ⇢ in the quiet of the school’s art room during lunch time, Mingi accidentally interrupts your vulnerable moment. It was as if your usual invisible self was finally noticed. He intrigued you immensely, and as you are paired up to help tutor him, you find out that he’s much sweeter than he would like to lead on.

📓 genre/au ⇢ strangers to lovers au, high school au, slow burn, smut, angst, some fluff

📓 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, voice kink, slight hand link, size kink, slightly rough sex, teasing, mingi is a secret scaredy-cat, longing, high school lovers, probably more i'm just blanking so please let me know what I missed.

📓 word count ⇢ 11.1k

📓 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @leeknowsnothing @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

y/n and mingi’s moodboards

The air was crisp as you breathed in, leaves crunching underneath your feet.

It was still warm out—just between summer and fall. The leaves, however, were already falling, but some were still stuck on the branches like their lives depended on it. You envied their efforts, but yet, you knew they were going to fall just like the rest of them—it was inevitable.

School had just started like any other year. You weren't exactly happy to go back, but at least it was your last. You wouldn't have to see the faces of your classmates ever again—you never got along with any of them, anyway.

The timing never seemed right. Your life had been a mess since you could remember, but it had just got worse a few days ago when you received the news of your father’s passing. He wasn't involved in your life; you forced yourself not to feel a thing about that man—but death was permanent, and you were terrified of it. If you cried about him, that would make you weak. But maybe, just maybe, bottling up these emotions was going to hurt you more than death ever could.

As you turned the corner to enter the school’s gates, a group of rambunctious boys pushed past you, laughing and carrying on and breaking the dress code. They never seemed to care if their ties were tied right, let alone tucking in their shirts. They always looked so messy to you; disorganized. It sent your hyperfocused mind into a spiral, but you shut it out and continued to make your way inside.

The hallway was bustling more than usual.

You had a hard time with crowded places.

You pushed past some girls, who, as they always did, glared at you as you passed by. You were used to it, and your mother used to tell you it was because they were jealous. You knew that wasn't the case, rather, it was your backwardness that seemed to get on their nerves more than your beauty.

You never understood your purpose. Somedays, you weren't even sure you were real. The world felt like it was crumbling around you non-stop, and you didn't know how to feel. You still don't know how to feel the things around you, as if your body didn't deserve it. Your soul didn't deserve it.

Like every other year, you sat down in the back of the classroom, away from those that actually mattered. Those seats should be for the ones that light up the room.

Maybe it was your OCD, but if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. And if you were late, you hated yourself even more than you already did. So, here you were, sitting in an empty classroom while the rest of your classmates carried on in the corridors and made out in the bathrooms—which was disgusting, by the way. Who would ever do that?

The silence felt….comfortable. It was only you and the slight hum of the wind through the open windows. You were too far away to feel it, but you imagined it soaring through your hair, dancing through you.

But said silence ended after the popular crowd emptied into the room, girls trailing behind the boys like leeches craving blood.

You shivered.

The boys were popular for reasons. Two of them played basketball, the other baseball, and then….

And then there was him.

Mingi wasn't an athlete like his friends, although he had a body like one. You watched him walk into the room like he owned it, his jaw set tightly as his friends cackled about something. You remembered back in middle school when he was small and scrawny—and slightly shorter than you. Now, the boy grew into a man, his muscular frame taking up so much space that it almost suffocated you.

You never saw him smile despite his raging popularity. It was as if he was just….there. He didn't speak much, you noted. He had this aura about him that interested you beyond degree, but yet, you made no effort to dig deeper.

You couldn't help but watch him take his seat on the other side of the room, right next to the open window. He liked sitting by windows. It almost brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. He reminded you more of the moon, but not at night. More so, the moon before the sun sets—barely there, but still noticeable. You, on the other hand, weren't even a star in his almost-night sky.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked blonde in the sunlight, shining smoothly. He made you angry. Everything about him. But he never personally victimized you in any way. He just……never noticed you.

The rest of the class piled in as the warning bell rang, jumping into their seats but still talking to their friends. You remained quiet, your deskmate not even sparing a passing glance at you.

“Good morning, seniors,” the teacher, who you haven't seen before, smiled at everyone. “I bet you're all ecstatic to be back.”

A bunch of groans, complaints, etcetera erupted. You didn't say anything. Your deskmate already had his head down.

And then the teacher looked at you. Only for a second, but long enough. You were first in the class, which no one else seemed to know other than the faculty and staff. You would prefer it that way, but this year, you'll have a lot of attention on you.

Your eyes traveled to Mingi once more, watching him look out the window with his chin in his hand. He wasn't paying attention one bit.

The classes came and went. Your head hurt by the end of the day, stuffing all the information you learned because that was all you had for the future. University was your only option, your only ‘dream’ if you could call it that.

Art class on the first day was pointless, but you never wanted to leave the room. It was the one thing that you enjoyed deeply. Painting was something you shared with your mother. Your favorite thing to paint was what you saw—little things around that made your heart feel something.

When it was time to eat lunch, the rest of the kids ran out of the art room, groups of friends having fun together. You watched Mingi and his friends get up, one of them hanging onto his broad, broad shoulders like a jungle gym. His gaze never strayed from his path, even if you were in it. He moved out of the room like a big wave, current pulling everything out of the room except you.

Once everyone was gone, including the teacher, you walked over to the windowsill, seeing the little houseplant holding on to dear life. It was wilting despite getting sunlight. You stood over it, emotionless. Lips turned down, you reached out to touch its dying petals, causing one to fall to its death.

You sucked in a breath, your chest heavy. You've pushed all your emotions so far back that everything was bound to come up at once. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't budge. You felt the pressure behind your eyes while all your bottled-up issues came to the surface—your father’s death being the main event. You hated him for everything that he did, but he was still your father. He was….still something to you.

You sank to the floor, embarrassed, overwhelmed. Your soul felt heavier than ever, as if it just wanted to break away and leave this godforsaken world. The tears trailed down your cheeks even though you tried so hard to hold them back. It was okay to cry, it was okay. It's normal. Cry it out, cry it out, you'll feel better—

“...oh,” a deep voice rumbled through your body, causing you to take in a sharp breath and look up.

There he was, filling up the whole doorframe like a giant. You breathed in deeply, but the tears kept falling and falling. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked concerned, though, and it was at that moment, in the art room, that your invisible self became visible—at least to somebody.

“I….I’m sorry, I just came to grab my jacket,” he mumbled softly, gently. It caught you off guard. His presence felt oddly comforting. The look on his pretty face made you want to cry even more.

You slowly nodded, and he hesitantly entered the dim room, cautiously making his way to his easel to grab his jacket. You watched him, sniffling, beyond embarrassed. He tried not to look at you, you noticed, and you assumed it was because you looked like an absolute weirdo crying on the floor, in an art room, on the first day of classes.

And when you thought he was going to leave, he stopped dead in the doorway, his big, muscular shoulders tightening.

And then he turned around.

“I can….I can stay, if you want,” he hummed, his deep voice rippling through you. You looked up into his serious gaze, furrowing your eyebrows.

You wanted to ask him why. Why would someone like him spare a moment of his precious time to stay with a crying weird girl? Clearly, he was concerned; it was apparent on his face. It was just….so strange that he looked in your direction, especially at a time like this.

In a moment of weakness, you slightly nodded your head, forcing a smile—which may have looked more like a grimace. He took your nod as an okay and sat on the windowsill, keeping his distance. You looked up at him, tears still falling, but he wasn't looking at you. He was sitting with contentment, arms crossed over his chest with that emotionless face he always sported. You watched his foot, how it anxiously tapped against the floor, and how he just….made his large presence feel small.

You opened your mouth, trying to justify yourself. You didn't even know each other like this—you never spoke more than a sentence to each other before. You felt like you needed to explain why you were crying because if you didn't, he probably would've thought of you as that weirdo everyone believed you were.

“You don't have to tell me why,” he spoke, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

You blinked up at him as he spoke, feeling his tone rumble through you. You had nothing to say—and that was okay. You both sat in the quiet room for some time, way longer than you thought he would stay, until your tears dried. The bell rang soon after, and he stood up hesitantly.

He gave you a genuine look of worry—but not pity.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed at the door over his shoulder, tilting his head. “Don't be ashamed for feeling something.”

And then he left as if he were never there. The room felt even colder than it did before as if his presence warmed it. You smiled to yourself, his words hitting you deeply.

It was that moment when you declared that you were completely, irrevocably intrigued by him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

Like a daydream to your nightmare.

—

You watched Mingi the next day in homeroom again. This time, the sun didn't dare peek through the curtains of the clouds as they cried.

He sat with his head down on the desk, his eyes closed in his effort to sleep. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he couldn't let his mind rest. You wanted to ease him, just like he eased you yesterday.

He looked so beautiful, even on a rainy day. You knew he didn't have an umbrella today, as his hair was damp. He also looked cold, which struck you by surprise. He was so….large…if you could put it that way. You might have been jumping to conclusions when you assumed he couldn't get cold because of the sheer size of his body, but maybe it was because he seemed so warm to you. Like a comforting hug.

Without warning, his sleepy eyes started to open slowly, meeting your gaze from across the loud, busy room. You didn't move your stare away—you just kept on admiring him without words, taking notice of how the crease between his eyes eased just by looking at you. You didn't smile or speak. Neither did he. He just sat there, his head down still, but his eyes sparkled like they always did. As his friends carried on around him, he kept quiet, watching you from a distance.

The moment felt like forever, and when the first class began, He still kept his eyes on you.

—

That weekend, you ventured your way around on a mission to enjoy your favorite midnight snack. The convenience store on the corner always had the best selection of snacks, but tonight, you opted for just a banana milk. As you grabbed one, another large hand encased one next to you, startling you.

You looked to your right, Mingi standing there emotionless—but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Banana milk, huh?” he tilted his head, his gaze analyzing you like a work of art. You wondered if he thought of you as one. “I thought you'd be more of a strawberry girl.”

You blinked, confused. He was talking to you like a normal human being. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him, filtering your response.

“I like strawberry, too,” you admitted, giving him a confused glance before making your way to the register. He followed, a decent distance away from you, his body nearly twice the size of yours. Surprisingly, once again, his presence was far from intimidating.

He stepped in front of you as you went to pay, setting down his strawberry milk with yours. You were about to question his actions, but then he handed the worker money, paying for you without saying anything. You frowned but kept your mouth shut, knowing that he was just being kind. You did begin to worry if he did this out of pity.

You walked out of the store together, sitting down on the stoop outside. You sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, sipping on your milk comfortably. It has been a long time since you felt comfortable in silence with someone. It was nice.

You looked over at him as he stared straight ahead towards the road in front of you, his pretty, silver hair shining under the street lights.

“What’s your name?” he hummed gently, genuinely. You tried your best not to be insulted, but you tried to look at it in his view—in a room filled with a bunch of others, you probably never caught his eye enough to reach his curiosity.

You blinked at him, trying hard not to show any specific emotion. “y/n,” you stated, taking a sip of your banana milk.

He nodded, looking forward. He muttered your name as if he was trying to engrave it into his mind.

“y/n,” he murmured, nodding. You tried so hard not to feel butterflies.

After a moment of silence, you sat and watched him, probably weird to anyone other than you. But you looked at him, saw how he scrunched his nose as he looked forward, how his plump lips parted as he breathed. You noticed everything he did and didn't do.

“You're different than I thought you were,” you spoke, still staring at him. He moved his gaze to you, looking down through his long, dark eyelashes. You admired his beauty, having no reason to hide it.

He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking perfect. His expression lacked emotion, as if he had a hard time with it. “And how did you think I was?”

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact. You hated to hide your feelings, feeling as if it were pointless. He seemed like someone you could confide in, but maybe that was because you admired him for a long time. “I don't know, I just assumed you lacked a sense of humanity.”

He looked confused. “I…I don't get what you mean.”

“You were always so unreal to me,” you shrugged again, looking from his hair to his large hands holding onto the tiny milk. “Robotic-like.”

He nodded as if he agreed with you. You weren't the best at expressing yourself, but you had hoped he took your reasoning as a compliment.

More silence. You finished off your drink as he spoke once more.

“How are you?”

A simple question. A question usually asked without a care, just small talk. This time, however, he turned his body towards you, genuinely asking.

You looked away from him shyly. “I’m alright now,” you paused, refraining from saying more. “How are you?”

He sighed, looking forward. “I’m also alright. But I have detention tomorrow because I threw a basketball at some dickhead who thought it was okay to bully someone.”

You nearly smiled.

“That's not fair,” you hummed softly. “You were standing up for them, and you get the shit end of the stick.”

Mingi shrugged. “Violence still wasn't the answer,” he smiled, almost painfully. “I’m working on that.”

You admired him more than ever.

He stood up, towering over you. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

Your mind ran a mile a minute with everything you wanted to say to him. Yet, you kept your lips sealed and smiled.

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’ll see you, Mingi.”

—

“Miss y/n,” your homeroom teacher called for you as you walked down the hall, catching your attention. “Can I speak to you quickly?”

You nodded, knowing it was probably something to do with grades or planning some sort of event. You followed him into the empty classroom while he rummaged through some papers.

“I need you to tutor one of your classmates,” he spoke, still ruffling through a mess of papers until he found what he was looking for. “He requested you when I brought up the idea of getting tutored, so I hope you'll be interested. It’ll look great on your college application, of course.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who requested me? What’s the subject?”

“Uh…who was it…who was it—Ah, yes, Song Mingi. He’s struggling with chemistry.”

There you go again—as if it were fate. You were tangled with him once more, your mind circling back to him. You have never been involved with anyone to this degree, and the fact that Mingi requested you made it even more interesting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll do it.”

You walked out of the classroom, a smile nearly reaching your lips. Things were getting interesting—you were starting to feel like a real high school student and not just some fly on the wall that everyone tried to ignore—or swat at.

In the chemistry lab, Mingi sat his ginormous ass down next to you, letting out a sigh as he did it. You received a few weird looks from your classmates, who were probably wondering why the hell the popular Song Mingi was paying attention to the creepy art freak.

Or maybe you were thinking way too far into things.

“Hello, tutor,” he whispered deeply, tossing his notebook onto the table in front of you. He looked extra nice today—his hair was styled, so his forehead was showing. You took notice of the delicate birthmark on his cheek and how something so small made a huge impact on beauty.

You blinked at him, not an ounce of fear in your body. “Your face is pretty,” you spoke softly, admiring him. You didn't exactly mean to blurt that out, but hey, it was true. Why should you act like you didn't find him breathtaking?

He looked taken aback by the random spew of admiration as if he’d never heard it before. His usually expressionless face brightened up, but only slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”

You nodded curtly, biting the corner of your lip. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone does.”

“Yes, but,” he rubbed his fingers against the spiral of his notebook, causing your attention to go to his long, gorgeous fingers. “Everyone else doesn't matter.”

You frowned, unsure what he meant by that. You didn't even have time to ask, anyway, as the teacher came in and started the lesson. Your eyes focused on his hands, his clean nails, his movements. He couldn't seem to stay still and had to move at least his fingers or his foot. It made you warm and fuzzy that such a big man had such human habits.

When you started the daily experiment, you bumped elbows with Mingi. He shied away, rather than you, and looked at you with a lost expression. You began to work together, but as your thoughts began to move to the idea of Mingi’s hands on you, all over you, you accidentally knocked over the beaker of chemicals. You shrieked back, bumping into Mingi’s chest, and as if it were a reflex, he held your shoulders tightly as if to protect you.

“What happened?” the teacher inquired, and you turned to her, Mingi still embracing you from his enormous height. It was then you realized how much smaller you were—your head only reaching his shoulder.

You tried to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, mingi apologized. “I’m sorry, I accidentally caused y/n to knock over the beaker.”

The teacher looked irritated, but sighed in response. “All right, thank goodness it’s only Acetic Acid. Can you both please grab some cleaning materials in the janitor's closet down the hall? I cannot leave the room while administering chemicals.”

You looked up at Mingi, pulling yourself away from his grip awkwardly. You nodded, taking off your goggles before nearly running out of the room, Mingi following suit.

You reached the room, opening the small door as quickly as you could. You didn't know how close Mingi was, and when you felt his breath hit the top of your head, you tripped up, pulling him into the closet with you.

You landed on top of his muscular body, feeling his warmth through your clothes. He let out a grunt right by your ear, creating a mess of dirty thoughts in your mind. You looked down at him, and when you saw that gorgeous, slight smirk on his pretty lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat. His smile was so beautiful—maybe because it was rare.

You were quite literally on top of the Song Mingi.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“....hi,” you peeped out, suddenly aware of your breath and your weight. You didn't even get the chance to get off of him when the door suddenly shut, causing you to jump.

You looked at him one more time, watching his gaze drop to your mouth, before tossing yourself off of him to open the door—but it was locked, and you were stuck, all alone with the one man you thought about more than anyone.

“Is that….is that locked?” Mingi pushed himself up on his palms, looking so delicious it was eating you up from the inside.

You tried to open the door over and over again, and after the millionth time, you sighed. “Yep.”

And then he laughed—a deep, childlike rumble that tickled your brain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he stood up in the small closet, inches away from you. It was dully lit by the lightbulb above, orange hues drowning his strong features. You noticed little specks of gold in his eyes like he was carved by the gods, decorated with glamour. You wanted to reach out and glide a hand down his cheek just to feel his skin. He looked unreal in horrible closet lighting. You wondered what you looked like to him.

“What is it?” his deep voice rumbled, a questioning tone. “Do I…..make you nervous?”

He took a step closer to you, but you did not step back. You tilted your head up more, gazing straight into his intoxicating eyes.

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you're attractive,” you admitted with ease, making him smile even more. You felt butterflies from his gaze, knowing that you were the cause of his grin. “You make a lot of people nervous.”

He looked conflicted—his hand twitched at his side, begging to touch you. The amount of chemistry flowing between you now was more than the amount spilled on the linoleum, and you felt the electric shock simmering through your soul.

He sighed, eyes dancing across your features. “You're so…interesting,” he whispered, his hand finally breaking the bone-crushing lack of touch. His fingers delicately glided up your arm, but stayed there. You ached for them to move all over you.

You frowned, wondering what he meant. “In a good way?” you asked him, your voice small.

He didn't answer you—maybe he didn't know, either. Maybe his interest was something his brain could not comprehend, similar to how he captivated you. You were both vastly different—from different worlds. But yet….this feeling between you was undeniable.

His hand met your shoulder now, sending a chill down your spine. Why was he…why was he touching you on his own accord, why was he looking at you like that?

Your chest tightened, his expression unreadable. His breath tickled you, his cologne powerful. You closed your eyes on impulse, taking in this feeling, these senses, this ache in your chest that you have never felt before.

Before Mingi acted on his impulses, the door swung open, and you shoved him against the other wall, turning around quickly.

“There you are. I was wondering if everything was okay,” the teacher huffed, calling you both out of the closet. You couldn't even remember walking back to the classroom, but you vividly remembered the feeling of his hands on you—and wondered about where else those fingers could go.

—

The next few days, Mingi sat with you at your lunch table—which was usually just you or someone else at the end who didn't have anything to do with you. It caused a lot of commotion; his friends were confused at the table across the room, and girls began to chit-chat while glaring.

You didn't mind; it was nothing. People were allowed to look and talk. It doesn't make you any less of a person.

Mingi rested his head on his palm across from you, flipping through his chemistry notebook aggressively. He didn't speak, he just made irritated noises. You smiled at him—probably the only person you ever showed this much emotion to.

“What are you confused about?” you asked him as you took a bite of your lunch, noticing that his tray was completely filled without a single bite taken.

He sighed, looking up at you for a second longer than a friend should've. He blinked, brushing away the hair that covered his eyes, before dropping his gaze back to the textbook.

“I just don't understand any of this,” he mumbled, his tone worrisome. You noticed his feelings more than your own—your heart ached to tell him that it’ll be okay. That he shouldn't worry.

But you weren't anything to him—he just learned your name while you knew his everything.

You leaned forward, hearing the soft breaths leave his lips. You tried your best to read the backward words, succeeding after a long moment.

“Ah, Ionic bonds?” you reiterated, meeting his gaze. He nodded, looking at you instead of his book. You ignored his intense stare. “Do you know the linkage?”

He just stared at you, his eyes twinkling. His expression lacked any sort of emotion, but somehow, you felt as if he was captivated—like an artist appreciating his artwork.

“Anyway,” you forced yourself to continue, holding in all of your questions for him. Why was he looking at you like that? Why did you feel a pull to him, a pull like no other? Like you were made just for him in this universe, similar to those oppositely charged ions being pulled together in electrovalence. You were an Ionic bond, two opposites, an undeniable tug, a match made in chemistry.

“Electrostatic attraction,” you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Despite the room being filled with people, you only saw each other.

He looked down at your hands, which were quite literally fumbling over your chopsticks. “What?”

You cleared your throat, feeling jittery. You never felt jittery. No one made you feel this way—actually, nobody ever made you feel anything. This scared you but interested you more. “When two ions of opposite charges are attracted to each other. It creates an Ionic bond….”

“A bond?” he hummed, his fingers peeling back the textbook page, causing you to look down. You breathed in deep, composing yourself, but the deep ache to have him ruined everything you ever worked for—your beauty has always been your brain, but he made you feel like your outward appearance was also worthy.

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling away from him to sit against the back of the seat. “Kind of like….opposites attract. You know, how people are attracted to those different than them?”

He stared at you, his cold gaze somehow warming you more than summer ever could. He may have looked like winter, but to you, he melted the ice off your stone-cold heart.

You looked at each other then, that chemistry sparking and spilling all over you. His lips were downturned in a frown, but oh, his eyes lit the fire inside your barren soul. The things you wanted to say to him ripped through you, desperate to reach the surface, but you held back as you were happy enough to get his attention.

“Why don't we…..why don't we skip next period?” he spoke, biting his lip slightly. You watched his eyes dance across your face, trying to figure you out.

You never missed a class. You came to school on time. You followed every rule known to man. Everything you did was by the book. But now, oh…..everything you ever knew about yourself seemed to be dwindling over a cliff.

With a short nod, you watched his lips curl slightly, feeling proud that you were the cause once again.

—

It was raining as you both ran through the empty halls, drops dripping down the windows like they were racing to the finish line. His hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your body. You wondered if he felt it, too.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked you as you reached the back door.

You shook your head.

He sighed, contemplating his impulses, you assumed. But you felt in control now, and with a quick motion, you gripped his hand, offering him a questionable look before pushing through the door.

You tumbled through the rain, drenching you as if you were in the ocean. He held onto your hand tightly as if he would drown without you. He let out a laugh, feeling like music to your ears. Without thinking, a smile reached your lips, your cheeks turned red as he pulled you through the rain.

You stopped underneath a small building’s overhead roof, both of you out of breath and soaked to the bone. He looked ethereal—his silver hair now dark like the night sky. His eyelashes were covered in raindrops, delicately taking rest on him. His skin was dewy, his smile brighter than anything you've ever seen before.

You felt the butterflies then—like you were in a movie. However, you haven't seen this film before. The air around you felt serene, the mist of the fallen raindrops splashing all around you. He was close, too close, if that was possible. Your body nearly went into flight or flight at his gaze, his intention. He felt like the rain to you, all around you, soaking into you. You didn't know how to not think of him this way.

“Your face,” he hummed in the small space, your shelter—It was him. “You're dripping wet,” he said, and with a twitch of his hand, his fingers gracefully slid across your cheek, catching the drops in their fall—but he couldn't catch you as you fell.

You swore your soul left your body as he touched you. It was like he was destined to touch you. It may seem silly, especially to your incredibly logical thought process, to be melting under someone’s fingertips. It seemed utterly shameful to your mind that you feel like a puddle as if he was the melting point and you were just….well, mush. It was because of your lack of experience, maybe, that everything he did was heightened.

“Ah,” you fought the urge to lean into his touch. Even after he wiped away the raindrops, his hand still cradled your cheek, his eyebrows knotted in confusion.

So you reached up, pressing your pointer finger between his brows. You eased his thoughts, resting his expression. “Don't do that,” you blinked up at him, watching his eyes widen at your touch. “You look prettier when you smile.”

He fought off his smile, but you still saw it. “Don't say that.”

He did smile after he spoke this time, as if he couldn't hold it away.

When he smiled, you felt like you ruled the world.

“Why?”

His touch felt warm against your cold cheek.

“Because,” his eyes—oh, you loved them. They were so expressive, they made up for his lack of emotion. They spoke a million words, like a window into his hidden soul. “You'll confuse me.”

“I don't mean to confuse you, Mingi.” When you spoke his name, you could've sworn he sucked in a breath. “But think I’m a pretty straightforward person.”

He scoffed slightly, looking at his own hand and how it fit perfectly to your face. “You're so oblivious for someone who’s our valedictorian.”

You blinked quickly, the sound of the rain encapsulating the air around you. You were hyperaware of everything—his breaths, the beauty mark on his cheek, his hand on yours. His height, god, it stirred your guts around in more ways than one.

The moment felt like forever. You stood there, trying to catch your breath, but he kept taking it away. It took you back to the day he saw you in the art studio, how he kept his distance but filled the room with so much care without speaking—he made you feel something no one ever will accomplish.

When you arrived back at the school, you ended up in detention together, huge grins on both of your faces as you sat across from one another. When he smiled, your whole body tingled, and when he looked at you, you became his.

—

As the days move on, the leaves rot on the ground you walk on. You loved October. You belonged to the season. Your soul only lived during the death of summer.

Mingi, once again, followed you like a lost puppy. He sat next to you at lunch, not across from you, and just….sat contently. You both didn't speak. He watched you eat, watched you breathe. If he were anyone else, they would've been six feet down.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his body turned to you.

You shrugged, looking over at him. You met his gaze, feeling those shocks once more. “Probably just studying for the chemistry exam.”

He nodded, sniffling. You frowned at him, now tilting yourself to face him. “Are you getting sick?” you asked him, unsure if you looked concerned or irritated.

He let a small smile reach his emotionless lips. “I don't know yet, it may be my allergies.”

You curtly nodded your head, and then you turned back to your food. He held his head up by his hand, staring at you, his eyes conflicted. You tried so hard not to turn towards him and kiss his lips. You weren't too sure how he would take that.

After another couple of moments of silence, he spoke again. “Do you want to come over tonight? To study, of course,” he interjected, which led your dirty, inexperienced mind into a fit of thoughts.

Were his parents going to be home? What was he planning on doing to you? Did he…did he have an ulterior motive?

Mingi broke you out of your thoughts. “I mean, if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet somewhere else—”

“No,” you cleared your throat, gripping your chopsticks tighter. “I mean, I would love to come over.”

His eyes twinkled as you met them, like shooting stars falling from the sky. He probably didn't realize that they did it, as his face didn't show any other hint of excitement.

“Okay, nice,” he said blandly, but once again, his eyes said otherwise. You dared to smile, causing him to smile back.

The sunlight danced across his honey skin through the blinds, and you just sat there, admiring him, dreaming about not-so-PG thoughts.

—

Later on in the evening, you stood in your best efforts of an “effortless” look, anxiously looking at Mingi’s monstrous home. You assumed he was rich, but not this rich.

The home was glorious, a mansion, if you will. You couldn't even count the windows before you started to feel the pit of your stomach growing bigger and bigger. You swallowed hard, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before pushing past the gates of the entrance.

It took you a solid minute to knock on his door, which was probably bigger than your room alone. He took a while to answer, causing you even more anxiety. What if a goddamn maid opened the door? God, you'd book it so far that he’d never find you again—

“Y/n,” he hummed breathlessly as he opened the door, his hair dripping wet and his whole torso completely unclothed. Your eyes traveled without permission, noticing the droplets of water that dared to drip down his defined abs….down onto the edge of the towel that just barely covered his hips. You held back your animalistic cravings as you noticed his v-line, swallowing hard. “You’re early.”

You did not move your gaze—you continued to eyeball him without shame. He didn't seem to mind. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Should I leave?” you blinked, eyes rolling up from below to his gaze. He almost looked embarrassed, but there was something sinister in his emotional eyes.

He paused, noticing how you were looking at him. He swallowed hard, too, opening the door wider to let you in. “No…just….come in. Let me go put…..clothes on.”

You nearly smiled at his embarrassment. You followed him in, in awe of his broad shoulders and smooth skin, to the curve of his sides. You felt like an animal in heat.

You looked around the home, feeling….empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no mirrors. Not an ounce of an existence of family, or color, or comfort. It was cold—Void of emotion.

You sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, the ceilings a million feet high. The TV rested on the wall in front of you, bigger than your home. You didn't see anyone, or hear anyone other than Mingi. It felt lonely—yet you were only there for a minute or two.

When he came back into the room, fully dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats, you wondered how on earth that shirt drowned him. Maybe if you put it on, it would probably end below your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” he let out a small anxious chuckle. He stood in front of you, causing you to strain your neck and look up at him. “Should we study here or….?”

Some part of you wished that you weren't here to study. It was something about the feeling between you….it was burning red, fiery, and you craved to dive into its flames.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged. “Wherever you want, really.”

His presence is intoxicating. Your mind wanders to his gentle expression, to the water dripping down his head, and you begin to question your sanity. The range of emotions you feel for him was alarming—especially for you.

You follow him into the kitchen and set your bag down on the island. He stands and stares, similarly to how you were observing him earlier.

As you tried to tutor him about chemicals and such, you looked up at him occasionally, only to find him looking at you.

“What?” you asked him softly, meeting his gaze. “Is there something you're confused about?”

He stared at you intently, his lips downturned. “Yes,” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is it? Is it about—”

“You,” he blinked, fiddling with his fingers. “I…you confuse me.”

Your eyes widened, your stomach tightening at his words. “How do I confuse you?”

“You just…” he sighed, setting down his pencil. “I never know what you're thinking, I guess.”

“Ditto,” you shrugged, keeping the eye-contact.

Silence. You just stared at each other, almost desperately, as you tried to understand what exactly was burning between you.

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his textbook. “Let’s just….” he swallowed hard, shutting his book with a forced smile. “Let’s study another time. How about we watch a movie?”

You met his gaze, feeling the air burn around you. His expression was indescribable—something you've never encountered before. You nodded, nonetheless, and when he stood up abruptly, you followed him like a lost puppy through his house, which was far from a home.

“Why are you alone?” you asked from behind, watching his large body move with such grace.

He didn't look back as he responded. “My parents live in Seoul,” he hummed. “I’ve been alone.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine as his cold words echoed through you. He seemed to have bad blood with them, whoever they are, and your flighty personality has you wanting to seek them out to tell them how horrible it is to leave their child behind.

As you walked into the vast, empty living room, you stopped in your tracks.

“It must be lonely,” you murmured, to which he paused for a second.

He let out a small laugh—a forced laugh—like he needed to pretend to be okay. You wished for the day he didn't need to pretend.

He sat down on the sectional, his long legs sprawling out. You looked at him before sitting down next to him, a reasonable distance away. He looked over at you, his eyes conflicted.

“What…. what's your favorite kind of movie?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You were concerned about what he would think about your opinion.

“Horror,” you admitted, watching his eyes widen.

“Horror?” he reiterated, his expression grim.

It was almost too cute. You nearly blushed.

You smirked, sliding in a bit closer to him. “What? Are you scared? I thought you were a big, tough guy.”

“..fine, ahem,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through that silvery hair of his. “I’ll put a horror movie on….since you like them.”

As the movie played, you sat next to each other, still a suffocating amount of space between you. You looked over at him, his expression wary, his hands balled up as if he were terrified.

You scooted over closer to him, hearing his breath hitch. You weren't sure if it was because of you moving closer or because of the jumpscare on the TV. you leaned in slightly, whispering into his ear. “Are you scared, Mingi?” you giggled, causing him to jump.

“Fuck, he hissed, his eyes frazzled. He quickly tried to calm himself down, and he put a silly little smile on his face. “No, I just don't like getting jump scared, is all.”

You smiled at him, the distance now only inches. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously as the space between you two shrank and how his eyes lingered on your lips. You wanted him to reach out and press them to yours, like how it almost happened in the supply closet. You wanted to feel everything he could make you feel—more than you already felt.

As the movie went on, the loud, atrocious noises filled the space, but all you saw was him. The room was dark, and his features were highlighted by the small source of light coming from the television. You watched his eyes glimmer through the darkness as they landed on you, and you heard his breaths quicken.

And in that moment, you had enough.

You slowly reached out to him, your fingertips meeting the softness of his cheek. He frowned in confusion, but his eyes spoke more words than he’d ever said before.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I….” you swallowed hard, bringing up your other hand to cradle his face gently. “I just want to feel something. I….I want you to feel it, too.”

Your eyes meet his lips; his eyes do the same. You've never been this close to anyone….and he felt just right. Everything about him caused you to ache. To ache for his touch, his attention. You craved every part of him, even before he knew your name.

He shined in the sunlight, even when it rained.

And with that look in his eye—that deep, desired look—you slowly pressed your lips to his unmoving ones, and after a moment, he kissed back with such passion you could swear you saw stars.

His hands held the back of your head, his lips parting yours. He let out a shaky breath as you kissed, and your hands trailed down to his chest. Something about this sparked something inside you, ignited a flame that was destined to burn for a lifetime. He parted your lips open, his tongue infiltrating your mouth smoothly. You let out a moan, causing him to deepen the simple kiss into something much more…sinister.

“Do you feel something now?” he hummed against your lips desperately. His hands gripped your jaw, the tips of his fingers tangling into the hairs at the base of your ears. “Please tell me that I make you feel something.”

“You do,” you mumbled breathlessly, your hand gliding up his cheek. He leaned into your touch as if he were deprived of it. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to kiss you like this for a while, to touch you like this for a while. Maybe, just like you, he ached to feel something, too. “God, Mingi, only you can make me feel this way.”

You looked at each other in between kisses. His eyes were lustful, yet, they looked like they could tear up any moment. You didn't know what you looked like to him, so you leaned in again, delicately pressing your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you more and more and more.

He pulled back ever so slowly; his eyebrows knit together, his brown irises dead center on your eyes. He spoke a million words without ever opening his mouth or even parting his lips. You smiled at him, feeling more like yourself than you've ever felt before.

He lit up your soul.

His eyes asked you kindly. You agreed with a soft nod, and then he whisked you away into bliss.

He carried you with grace through the dark hall, dropping you on his bed. Your back hits the cold duvet, sending chills down your spine. For a moment, he just gazes down at you, the only source of light being the floor lamp in the corner of the room. His expression was one you understood for once—he was full of emotion, and he made you feel safe.

He sucked in a breath, and you watched intently as he lifted his shirt slowly over his head. He was nervous—obviously nervous, and you wondered why such a big, strong, stone-like man would be scared of something like this. You were confident he’d done this before—he had to have.

“I won't bite you,” you breathed, looking up at him with your soulful eyes. However, your innocence only went so far here. You've been watching him for ages, trying not to feel this…whatever this was. A mix of love, lust, longing, belonging….and he finally saw you.

You were going to eat him up if he let you, of course.

He let out a shaky laugh, standing there so delicately powerful. His muscles rose and fell in the shadows of the dark, his skin looking ever so soft. You sat up on the bed, reaching out to him. You gripped his waistband, pulling him into you. He breathed in as your fingertips touched the bare skin of his waist, and he held his breath as you pushed past that waistband….down his underwear, to find…

Holy fucking shit.

That’s literally going to obliterate your insides.

You must've looked shocked because he suddenly pulled himself away from you. “W-what? Is something wrong?”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, to which he looked even more confused.

He looked distressed, so you stood up from the bed and walked up to him. He towered over you more than you've ever realized. You stood there in front of him for a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes frantically searching for your explanation.

“Is something wrong with it—”

“Mingi,” you breathed, basically moaned, his name as you fiddled at the hem of your shirt. He watched your hand, gulping. “You may just kill me with that.”

You flung your shirt across the room, and your hands then danced at your waist to undo your pants.

He frowned, confused. “Kill you? How—”

Your pants dropped to the ground, and you kicked them aside. You were left in your underwear—a pretty pink set you've kept in your drawer for ages for a moment like this. You completely got him starstruck.

You watched his mouth part as he stared at your body. “What…uh,” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “I…” You stepped closer to him, gliding your hand to hold his cheek; he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch, taking a deep breath.

You leaned forward, on the tips of your toes. “Are you going to take the rest off, or am I gonna have to do it for you, scaredy cat?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, his hands instinctively gripping onto your hips.

His eyes were lustful, his gaze ripping right through you like a knife would tear a heart. It was as if you offended him, and he grit his teeth as he slid your bra right over your head with one hand.

You smirked, your hands running up the sides of his face to run through his gorgeous hair. You found pleasure in his reactions—the way he savored his feelings as he closed his eyes.

“Is this your first time?” he whispered weakly as your lips found a home under his jaw. “Because I have a feeling it isn't—”

“And if it is?” you interrupted him, still creating your mark on his neck. “Will you not fuck me?”

“Oh, dear god,” he huffed, letting out a groan. He shoved you onto the bed, your back once again hitting the covers. This time, it felt even colder. “Where the hell did you get that mouth of yours?”

You tried to breathe, but you no longer remembered how to. “Why, do you not like it?”

He didn't answer you with words. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, his hard-on begging to break through his underwear. You laid there, your breasts on full display for him, and your stomach tightened as you saw his dick after he took everything off.

“Oh….” you gulped, raising your eyebrows in hopes that he didn't see your worry. You've never had sex, only with your own fingers, and as you looked down at his massive cock, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside you.

In fact, it turned you on just thinking about how…big he was. How he stood with confidence, turning red, his body physically showing his attraction to you, blood pumping, sweat pooling to the surface of his skin.

His size….you've always been obsessed with his size—it surrounded your every thought. This was the cherry on top of your fantasies.

He knelt over you, his body warmth making you even hotter. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you shamelessly moaned, meeting his flaming gaze.

“By kill, I mean,” you breathed in, pausing. “I mean, that dick of yours is like a goddamn weapon.”

His face was right over yours, and you watched a sinister smile fill his features. “Is that so?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss your lips. You moaned into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Mhm,” you whimpered as his dick pressed against your panties, and you ached for him to take them off. He was too captivated by your breasts to even think about the fact that they were still on. You looked down at his hands, and oh, they just completely encapsulated you, mind and body, body and soul. You wished for him to suck the living life out of you, to choke you until you saw whatever was beyond this life, if there was anything. His hands alone caused you to daydream about them bringing death to you and being pleasured by the hands of death. They were so large, so soft, so gentle. You wanted him to manhandle you, to tear you apart, to rip your heart in two and then sew it back together. Your mind was just rambling on now, but one thing was for sure.

You were in love with him.

“Mingi,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around his arm that worshiped your breasts. His eyes met yours, madly, desperately. “Take every part of me.”

He wasn't sure how to respond, and you knew it. He did, however, understand your request, and he kissed you from your breastbone to the mounds of skin, down your stomach, finally reaching where he needed to be. He kissed you there, right there, and you felt his hot breath radiate through the thin fabric. It was gone before you knew it, and he lined himself up on top of you, his chest heaving from breathlessness and desire.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked black in the moonlight, shining smoothly. He made you happy, everything about him.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke against your lips, the tip of his dick pressing against your entrance. You closed your eyes tightly as his thick cock slid into you.

“I like the pain,” you said.

Your eyes watered, but the sound of his pleasure made everything better. Truthfully, you discovered something about yourself that you never knew. You loved that he was big. You loved how his cock still had length outside of you, even as he stuck himself fully in. You watched as he moved in, moved out, how his hips bucked against yours, and how he held you underneath him, tenderly, like he was afraid to shatter you like glass. You were his throne, his home, and he was your everything.

“Ah,” you hissed; this never felt before feeling tingling your insides, your stomach filling up with his length. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, tearing into his skin as he sped up. He seemed to like how you inflicted pain, and you continued to pierce his skin, carving your mark like writing initials into tree bark.

It was bliss, your first time. The feeling of him pumping into you was addictive—you were sure you were going to want this every day for the rest of your life. You arched your back into him, wrapping your legs around him as you felt yourself reach your climax. You've never felt one before, and it was intoxicating. His breaths quickened along with his movements, and his hips rocked back and forth slightly, hitting new spots for your body to learn. He was your tutor, your teacher. Your daydream and your nightmare. You revolved around him as if he were your sun and you were his moon.

His expression changed as he looked at you—eye contact and all. You've never felt so intimate with someone your entire life, and strangely enough, despite your usual ignorance of emotions, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever. To gaze into his eyes forever. Maybe it was your youth; maybe it was your first life.

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, his face contorted in pleasure. His tone of voice sent ripples through your body—it was deep, raspy. It rumbled through you, all around you. You loved his voice. You loved it so much that you wanted him to speak more and more and more.

“Say that again,” you moaned, sweat dripping down your temple as the top of your head hit the headboard. “Please.”

“You,” he breathed, lifting one of your legs up to burrow in you deeper— as if it were possible with the size of his dick. He hit a new spot, causing you to toss in his embrace, begging for more. “...You are beautiful.”

“God fuck, Mingi,” you quite literally snarled, gripping his shoulders to switch positions, you now sitting right on top of him. You looked down on him, finding gratification in his sexily fatigued expression. His eyes were barely open, his chest heaving, his hands gripping the sheets. “I love the sound of your fucking voice.”

And with that, you began to ride him, watching his features twist with such interesting emotions you've never seen before. When he began to breathe quicker and quicker, you watched how his eyes widened, how his big, veiny but gentle hands came up to fist your hair. You cried out, eyes watering, pain sparking down your neck—but you loved it.

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved you onto your stomach, face full of pillow and the sweet smell of Mingi’s hair wash. You closed your eyes as he re-entered you, his hands putting pressure on the small of your back.

And as he let out a deep, bone-crushing moan, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. He pulled out quickly, and came on your back, painting himself all over you.

The only sound through the silence was the huffing of your breaths, your face flushed, hidden from him. He let out a slight, rumbly laugh—music to your ears.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” he spoke softly, his fingertips dancing down the side of your waist as if he were appreciating your structure.

He cleaned you up with such softness as if this weren't the man that was just fisting your hair and slamming his dick into you. You lay in his bed, naked, your stomach aching, your legs weak.

He laid next to you, his shower he had just taken before this turned utterly pointless, his body covered in sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and you reached out, brushing it up. You smiled at him as he stared at you with fascination.

And then, in the comfort of his embrace, you fell asleep, dreaming of him.

—

When you awoke in the morning, he was no longer there.

Your youthful mind didn't jump to conclusions—you slowly rolled out of his California king and picked up his huge t-shirt, tossing it on without anything else. It drowned you, down to your knees like you expected, and you giggled in bliss. It smelled like him.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you saw a cup of steaming coffee on the island. Mingi was facing away from you, the back of his head messy, silver hair standing up everywhere.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He quickly turned around, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

You felt the rush of blood reach the tips of your ears.

He inspected your outfit—or his outfit—and that goofy smile widened even more. “My shirt, huh?”

You wrapped your arms around your body. “It was the first thing I picked up.”

“I like it,” he smirked, walking over to you, his arms taking the place of yours. “I love it, actually.”

You embraced him, feeling finally happy. “You're a lot more colorful than usual,” you acknowledged, feeling his heartbeat through his chest.

“You must've painted me in a new light,” he hummed, resting his head on the top of yours.

You tried to escape his embrace, but he tightened it, shaking his head. “You're not leaving me.”

You giggled, trying to playfully push him away. “Mingi, what time is it?”

He paused. “Uh….”

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. Your own eyes widened.

“School, oh my god, we forgot about school!”

—

You held Mingi’s large hand as you sprinted down the road to your school. After a pit stop at your home for your uniform and a blissful moment of a makeout outside the door, you barreled as fast as you could, knowing you were gonna get punished. Even so, you laughed the whole way, and when your tardiness landed you in detention, you couldn't of been happier to end up in a room with Mingi.

The teacher left the room for a moment, and as the door shut, Mingi launched out of his seat and attacked you with his lips, his hands in your hair, his teeth clashing with yours as he smiled as wide as ever.

The next day, you watched him sit in the sunlight in homeroom, noticing his hair shine—the same head of hair you ran through as he made love to you a few nights before.

He liked sitting by windows. It brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight.

He was the moon during the day, right before the sun sets. And you, well, you were finally a star in his almost-night sky.

—

Winter break was approaching. Students were talking. You didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, he made it painfully obvious, sitting next to you with every chance he got, touching you as much as he could, smiling so wide it was unlike his usual persona.

The question dwindled over your head. Many people asked you, talked to you, and inquired about your relationship with him. You didn't exactly know what to tell them—you never actually labeled whatever this was. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as it just mattered that you were blissfully happy for however long it may last. You were going to enjoy this time you had with him, knowing that college was approaching.

“Y/n!” a loud voice boomed through the study hall class, a few students turning their heads in confusion. You met eyes with Yunho, one of Mingi’s best friends. You frowned, confused as to why he was calling for you. There was no teacher as the class didn't start yet, so you weren't too alarmed.

“What?” you asked him.

He took a sharp breath in, hands on his knees like he ran a marathon. “It’s Mingi—he got hurt on his way to school—”

You stood up quickly, eyes wide. “What? Where is he?”

“In the nurses—”

You didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. You ran down the hall, even though class was about to start.

You let out a loud breath when you reached the nurse’s office. “Mingi? Are you okay—”

With a tight grip on your wrist, he tugged you into the office, slamming the door behind you.

He stood there, perfectly fine, with a boyish smile on his face.

You hit his chest. “What the hell? I thought you were hurt?”

He giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “Mmh. No, I just wanted to do this.” he kissed you again, his hands tilting your chin up with such tenderness.

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You're such a sneak.”

“Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?” he teased, pecking your nose and then your lips. “Because I will.”

You chuckled, kissing him more. “It’ll probably clear up all the rumors about us,” you shrugged, ruffling his hair as you kissed him again.

“People are so nosy,” he mumbled. “Can't two people date in peace?”

You pulled back in his embrace, a glimmer of mischief in your gaze. “Oh?” you tilted your head, and as he went in for another kiss, you pressed a finger to his lips. “Were dating, huh?”

He blinked as if you said something completely insane. “Huh?” he furrowed his brows. “Haven't we been dating?”

You smirked, teasing him. “Since when?”

He scoffed, but still held onto you. “Uh, since I literally fucked the living shit out of you?”

You laughed at his vulgarity, pressing your lips to his in a long, sensual kiss. “So were dating now?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that if you never said it?”

“Because you're the fucking valedictorian, y/n.”

You stared at his confused face, smiling wider than you've ever smiled. “Okay,” you nodded, watching his eyes sparkle down at you. “Boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” he giggled like a child, grabbing both your cheeks and kissing you over and over again. “My girlfriend.”

You never saw yourself as cheesy and didn't see him as the cheesy kind, either. But there you were, in each other's arms in the run-down, empty nurses office, blissfully unaware of how the future will work out for you. But now was the time, not then, not when. It was now, and now you loved him.

You were his tutor, his happiness, his light, even if you never thought you could ever brighten up someone’s life.

It was this moment— you declared that you were utterly, irrevocably in love with him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

The future isn't guaranteed, but you both will live on, together maybe, who knows? You were young and in love, but who says it won't work? Your hearts will live for each other, whatever the future brings you.

He was the daydream to your nightmare.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi fanfic #high school au #strangers to lovers

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shysuccubusstuff · 3 months

Text

yandere! Sylus

Content: Established relationship, yandere behaviour, stalking, love bombing (sort of?).

Note: I just had to do it... Take into account that this was written BEFORE we know much about him, so I'm basing everything on his vibe. Non-proof reader, sorry if it's kinda messy :(.

Sylus and you met during one of your expeditions, suddenly appearing behind your back and killing that awful wanderer that was about to hit you.

Of course, that was your first meeting, well, your first meeting in which you actually saw him.

He had been stalking you with his litte crows around, sometimes looking while you were hunting, others when you were casually walking around town, you looked so pretty like that! Your hair flowing, while you were looking so happy to that man. In fact, there were four different men in your life, the doctor, the artist, your co-worker and your childhood friend.

Sylus was seeing red with all those men surrounding you, but he kept calm, as he was sure he would be able to get you to love him just (almost) as much as you loved him.

Now, the opportunity had finally arised, suddenly appearing just as you were about to be hurt, the adrenaline pumping through your whole body, as he knew that it would help you see him in a much better light.

After this little meeting, he kept on appearing around your normal life, sometimes he appeared at your work, helping them by fixing the different electronical devices. Other times, he was just at the same coffee shop as you, always sitting in an almost hidden table, yet he still was able to clearly tell when you entered the place.

This short meetings kept happening during several months, slowly allowing you to let your walls down as he kept providing little details about his personal life, just enough for him to gain your trust, not enough to let you know who he actually was.

It took more than a year to finally get to becoming your charming boyfriend, the type to make small pokes to you, his foxy smile appearing while he poked you, showing just how close you were to him in contrast with the previous men he had kept an eye on.

Always sending you little treats during work, always taking you home after each of your laboral days, he became the person most close to you in less than a year and a half.

While he acted as the lovely boyfriend you knew, he also took care of making sure none of your close friends suspecting him, doing whatever it was needed (buying them stuff, having hangouts with them despite he didn't particularly liked them...).

Now for the times when you were both alone...

Content: Marking, breeding kink, overstimulation, praise kink,

He had been going for over one hour, playing with your pretty nipples while his other hand kept caressing your clit, his fingertips kept playing with your folds, entering your insides while his lips kissed your neck, whispering soft praises against your ear:

"You're doing so good baby, keep bucking your hips, let me know how good you feel, don't hide your moans, let me hear them, I love to hear your pretty voice when I make you feel good." Even despite his soft voice, his hands were rough, making you cum on his fingers despite how much you tried to close your legs and begged him to stop playing with your poor pussy. Kissing your cheeks while one of his hands caressed your flushed cheeks.

By the time he finally decided it was time for him to end his little games, you had already came over four times, so when he finally pulled his cock out, veins bulging while a small precum bead fell down his shaft. You were only able to bite your lip as he slowly entered you, pushing your weight gradually until he bottomed out, his tip getting far too close to your cervix. He stopped himself for a few minuts, allowing you to get yourself accustomed to his size.

When he finally moved, your eyes rolled to your back, his tip hitting just the correct place, causing you to mewl as kept hitting your g-spot. One of his hands moved towards your clit, crying out loud as he kept playing with your already overwhelmed cunt.

"Baby, you're squeezing me to death, let me make you feel even better yeah?" His hands were once again gripping your hips as he moved you as he wanted, allowing yourself to simply fall limp against his chest as he moved you like a pretty little doll. The tip of his dick kept hitting against your cervix, making your eyes roll as he tried to make you cum for god knows which time all over his cock.

Once he finally came, you were already a babbling mess, trying your hardest to not pass out as he kept bucking his hips, his voice whispering against your ear:

"Come on baby, hold on for me, yeah? Cum once more all over your boyfriend's cock, show me how good you are baby, come on..." You were only able to nod, cumming all over him while he kissed your puffy lips, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

After that, Sylus took care of cleaning up the mess you had made, changing the sheets to a new pair and taking you to the bathroom, meticulously cleaning your pretty body and letting you sleep under the soft sheets. Then, it was finally time for him to enter the shower, rapidly cleaning himself as he was eager to sleep with his pretty girlfriend (wife) by his side.

#fanfiction #smut #x reader #love and deep space #love and deepspace #lnds sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds imagine #sylus #lnds x reader

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lovebugdrabbles · 4 months

Text

Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won��t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

#wriothesely genshin #genshin imagines #wriothesley headcanon #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #ns4w #n$4w #n$fw #genshin impact #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x gn reader #ok funnies hidden in tags #just one night pls ur grace #i am begging #i'll do what ever you want babygirl

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niallsstainedcoffeecup · 4 months

Text

A Scoop of Love

Y/N, a single mother, who no longer believes in love, meets the new ice cream shop owner, Harry Styles. Can she balance a new love, her ex-husband, and her daughter? Or will it all fall apart?

This is a new miniseries I'm working on. Let me know what you think, and if you would like to see anything in the future parts. Lots of love! Love either bloomed beautifully or withered wastefully. Y/N witnessed this first-hand with her parents’ marriage, then her own. Her parents loved one another, from sharing multiple morning kisses before leaving for work to drawing lavender bubble baths for one another after a rough day. She grew up surrounded by love, so naturally, she searched for and planned her true love. They would meet at a bookstore or in a university lecture, and then he would propose after three blissful years of dating. They would get married in the church her parents got married in, she would wear a modern version of her mother’s wedding dress, and there would be bouquets of beautiful pink peonies everywhere. However, a higher being glanced over her plans and laughed.

She met her husband at the first university party she attended. He was in his second year of university, and she was in her first year, but her dark humor and extensive music knowledge kept him entertained all night. They dated for an exciting year filled with morning kisses before she left for class and late-night conversations about their future, and then they were blessed with the news that she was pregnant.

Her parents rejoiced, but his parents forced him to propose. They were married in her parents’ garden, under a floral arch her mother designed, with very few guests because his parents did not want their friends to see the small bump under the maternity wedding dress that she despised. At twenty, she gave birth to their beautiful daughter, Daphne.

The couple attempted to raise their daughter together, but the morning kisses turned to cold glares, and conversations about the future transformed into hate-filled mutters about feeling trapped. A few weeks after their daughter’s third birthday, she divorced the man she planned to spend forever with. Her marriage devoured her hope for love. * * * * *

Oldies from the sixties and seventies flowed from the Bluetooth stereo and throughout the small kitchen. She flipped the sizzling bacon, plated the burning eggs, and buttered the steaming toast. Pausing the music, she listened for movement, like the sound of her daughter’s electric toothbrush or the squeak of those awful shoes her daughter’s school assigned as the required dress code. The sneaky eight-year-old was known for slipping back into bed after her mother returned to her busy morning schedule; however, they could not be late this morning. The bathroom door’s squeaky hinge informed her that Daphne just finished her morning routine and should appear in the kitchen soon. She chugged the remainder of the French vanilla coffee in an attempt to muster all possible energy.

Two bouncing ponytails hovered beside the wooden kitchen table and then descended until they disappeared with a giggle. “Did it look like I was walking downstairs? Daphne asked, hopping up the minute her mother chuckled at the illusion.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her daughter’s small frame. “My little magician. Who taught you that?”

She knew the answer before she asked the question, recalling mornings when her ex-husband would send her into a fit of laughter by claiming he left the eggs downstairs and then descending behind the counter until he reappeared with two eggs in his hands. Late at night, she often wondered what happened to that man. Did she kill his spirit? Or did he reserve that side of himself for people he actually loved?

“Daddy. Will he pick me up after school?” She never knew how to answer these questions. She should have a solid answer, but her ex-husband loved creating excuses as to why he couldn’t watch their daughter during his scheduled weekends.

Instead, she replied by handing her daughter the breakfast plate. “You need to eat breakfast. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

Daphne hopped onto the nearby stool, taking turns between eating breakfast and kicking her feet along with the music’s beat. Her mother rushed around the apartment, shoving expired library books into the young girl’s pink backpack. No matter what time her mother woke up, she was always in a hurry. She couldn’t remember a time when her mother wasn’t busy, even when they visited her grandparents, her mother took it upon herself to cook everyone dinner.

“Are you ready to start our Friday?” Y/N asked, helping the little girl into her black raincoat.

Daphne nodded, flashing her mother a wide, toothy grin before running down the quiet hallway. Shushing the eight-year-old and her heavy feet, she followed her daughter down the stairs and into the real world. She despised Fridays because Fridays looked like her, alone in the apartment with a Chinese delivery and a movie that she ignored in favor of thinking about where her life was headed. Her best friend, Christie, often suggested that they go out and find someone new, but she knew the love of her life wasn’t in a bar waiting for her. Romantic love skipped right over her, so years ago, she decided she would focus on the only love in her life, her daughter. * * * * *

A higher being loved irony, especially when leading her through life. Although her chances at true love were dashed when she signed the divorce papers, she spent the majority of her days photographing random couple’s wedding photos. Sure, she also photographed family portraits, fashion shoots, and other various photography projects, but many of her customers were couples in love.

Today, she was capturing the love between Peter and Samantha, a young couple who planned a Shakespearian wedding, so they dressed as Romeo and Juliet for the wedding invitation photos. She wondered whether Romeo and Juliet were couple goals because wasn’t the play criticizing the societal norms that killed the teens? Peter’s check told her to shut up and do what she did best–photograph the sweet couple. She had about thirty photos before her ex-husband’s ringtone startled everyone in the studio.

She sighed, waving over her assistant, “I’m sorry. Kira will provide you both with champagne while I answer this call.”

Kira poured the champagne for the happy couple, who reassured them they needed a break anyway. She walked away from the small group and farther into the studio’s storage room because her gut knew Tyler’s call was not about what he ate for lunch.

“Hello?” She prepared her heart for the excuse.

She heard shuffling on his end as if he wasn’t expecting her to answer his call. “Hey, I’m sorry to call you at work. How are you?” His deep, hypnotic voice shook with guilt.

The first time she heard that familiar shake in his voice, she thought she still made him nervous. However, she quickly learned that his voice shook when he was about to utter another lame excuse as to why he couldn’t be a father that weekend. She rolled her eyes because she did not have the time for this.

“Tyler, what is it this time?”

He sighed. “I need you to cover for me this weekend. Jo asked me to drive her to the doctor’s office, and she also planned a romantic weekend away.”

A low growl pulled her lips back into a snarl. “You can’t spend time with our daughter because you have to drive your girlfriend to the doctor? Can she not drive herself like an adult? Do you not understand how much Daphne misses you?”

“Listen, I didn’t call you for a lecture on parenting. We all can’t be perfect parents like you.” Tyler hissed, a tone she knew very well from their relationship.

The couple could argue about anything, from when the milk expired to why he never wanted to hold her hand anymore. The passion in their marriage centered around their hatred of one another until, one day, the arguments stopped, and a cold silence enveloped the couple. The heart of their marriage had shriveled up and died.

She chuckled bitterly, running her free hand through her hair. “I’m not asking you to be the perfect parent. I’m asking that you be there for our daughter, and you can’t even do that. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

Tyler ended the call without another word. Did he not respond because he knew she was right? She would break Daphne’s heart when she told her the news, but they would still have an amazing weekend because her daughter deserved it. Sighing, she regained her composure and returned to the lovely couple, whose love reminded her that love was still alive for everyone except her. * * * * *

“He canceled on Daphne again because Joanna needed an uber? Did you tell him to fuck off?” Christie complained as if she were the one who divorced Tyler.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I did tell him to fuck off in parent though. Does Joanna not understand that Daphne misses her father?”

“You mean the woman who ruined your marriage is trying to separate your daughter from her father?” Christie’s sarcasm usually made her laugh, but those words stilled her hand on the computer mouse.

The wedding photo she was editing once again mocked her situation. Her marriage wilted away for two years, but Joanna produced the final drought that destroyed every root and petal.

She recalled the day, replaying the moments as if they were scenes from a movie. She left early that morning, dropping Daphne off with her parents while she went shopping for her daughter’s birthday party. She purchased party hats detailed with a singing, independent princess and ordered two cakes decorated with the same princess and her quirky sidekick. Deciding to surprise her husband with a lunch date, she returned to their apartment, where she found her husband kissing another woman in their kitchen.

The cheating couple spun around toward her, and his only response came in the form of an apathetic mutter, "I thought you would be gone all day." They divorced a few weeks after that. She never cried because Joanna slept with her husband; she cried because the couple shared an emotional connection far deeper than what they ever had. The love in his eyes returned and sparkled brighter than she had ever seen, all for a woman he met five months ago. He found his soulmate, and it wasn’t her.

“Y/N? Hello? Did the call drop?” Christie’s frantic questions rescued her from the dark spiral she fell into.

She gasped, realizing she had fifteen minutes of editing time before she had to pick up Daphne from school. “Yeah, I guess this photo distracted me for a moment. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.”

The problem with phone calls is that Christie couldn’t spot her friend’s distress. Her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip, her fingers picked at her fingernail polish, and her knee bounced erratically under her desk. The couple’s smile in the photo made her stomach churn with jealousy and sorrow. When would she find her soulmate? Could anyone love her? After downloading the images onto her thumb drive, she locked away the hideous feelings behind her studio’s glass doors and walked toward her sunshine. * * * * *

Daphne dried the hot tears from her cheeks, swallowing the sobs she wished her father could hear so he would cancel the plans that kept him from her. Her watery vision focused on the delicate rings decorating the hand holding her left hand, which provided the warmth and comfort needed to soothe her broken heart. Glancing up, she admired her mother's ever-present smile that never seemed to falter, especially when her father did not have time for her.

After her mother broke the news outside of the primary school, she wiped the tears from her daughter's damp cheeks and mentioned a surprise. Walking down the busy sidewalk, they slowed their pace once Y/N spotted the neon blue sign that read Dream Cones. Two months ago, Daphne returned from a friend's birthday party and raved about the delicious ice cream served. Today, Y/N saw the friend's mother at the school, and she asked for the ice cream shop's name to surprise her daughter. Her daughter's sparkling eyes and enthusiastic giggles revived her heart from her earlier conversation with Tyler and Christie.

“Surprise. Should we go inside?” She asked, already knowing the answer she would receive from her daughter.

Daphne nodded, gripping her mother’s hand with the strength of a hundred sugar-crazed children. Y/N might regret her decision later, like during their bedtime routine, but her daughter deserved a good childhood, and she would strive to provide her with that. As they entered the shop, a golden bell chimed loudly above their heads. “Welcome to Dream Cones.” The men and women cheered from behind the white marble counters. The warm, sugary scent of freshly baked waffle cones greeted their noses. Y/N's eyes flitted around the room, stopping briefly on the cerulean walls, the ornamental vanilla cone hung above the menu, and the wooden tables crowded with laughing families. Despite the conversations melding together into nonsensical noise, she could still pick up the soft pop music flowing through some unseen speaker.

Daphne seemed to speak the words she was thinking, “This place is cool.”

They approached the marble counter, reading the various ice cream labels, which featured unique names like lemonade over ice. She enjoyed the clever names; however, her eyes and stomach could not believe how fluffy and creamy each flavor looked.

“Mommy, will I like Sign of the Limes?” Chuckling at the amusing name, Y/N wondered whether the staff competed to create the unique names or the owner carefully curated each one.

“Yeah, do you want a cup or a cone?” The eight-year-old took a second to consider her options before ultimately choosing the waffle cone.

Y/N nodded, waiting until one of the women behind the counter asked for their order. She ordered the flavor Watermelon Sugar in a cup and Sign of the Limes in a cone for Daphne.

“Watermelon Sugar is my favorite flavor.” The cheerful worker commented, handing out the coral-colored ice cream. “Let me know how you like it.”

“Absolutely, I’m a sucker for anything watermelon flavored.” She giggled, agreeing with her customer that anything watermelon flavored was superior.

“Okay, your total is 23.96.”

Y/N's eyes widened, and she nearly gasped when she heard the price. She appreciated the artistic decor and the friendly workers; however, twelve-dollar ice cream was expensive for a single mother's budget. Smiling through the pain, she handed the woman her card.

“This is delicious. Can we have ice cream every Friday?” Daphne asked between mouthfuls.

Y/N giggled, wiping the messy corners of her daughter’s mouth with a napkin. “Of course.” She would find room in the budget for twelve-dollar ice cream as long as it made her daughter happy.

She stole a spoonful of ice cream from Daphne, which resulted in her daughter shooting her a playful glare, which she fixed by giving her a spoonful of her own ice cream as an equal trade. Between the two flavors, she could not decide which one she enjoyed the most. While she liked how the lime's zestiness did not overpower her palette, the watermelon found a balance between salty and sweet due to the salt crystals disguised as watermelon seeds. However, she knew one thing for sure, she loved the shop. After they finished their treats, they returned to the counter.

“Well, what is the verdict on Watermelon Sugar?” The woman asked, wiping the counters with a wet dishrag.

“Absolutely delicious,” she licked her lips. “Can you give our compliments to your boss?”

The woman nodded fervently, “Of course.” Then she paused, processing her idea before responding with a smirk. “Would you like to tell him yourself? He recently returned from a late meeting.”

Y/N shrugged, unsure about the possible interaction, but she recalled the numerous compliments she received from customers and agreed to the suggestion.

The worker walked away, disappearing behind a door labeled Employees Only. Y/N understood her compliments could brighten the owner's day; however, the longer the woman remained behind the door, the longer she had to overthink the future conversation. What if the owner did not care about her opinion and laughed in her face? What if the owner misunderstood and expected her to complain? Her worries eased once the door swung open, revealing the worker and a Greek God. The moment her eyes fell upon the curly-haired man with his lime-green sweater, her mouth ran dry.

“Hello, I'm the owner, Harry.” The man's low and slow tone melted her heart like ice cream on a summer day.

She smiled dreamily, “Hello, I'm Y/N, and this is my daughter, Daphne.”

Before she could produce a compliment, he turned and faced the little girl. “Hello Daphne, did you enjoy your ice cream?”

She watched in awe; not only did he acknowledge her daughter, but he also cared about her opinion. The girl's father rarely asked about her interests. She reminded herself not to idolize this stranger's kind gesture simply because her ex-husband lacked decent human qualities.

“Yes sir, my mommy bought me a lime cone. She said we could come back every Friday.” Daphne gushed, revealing their plan with a toothy grin.

Harry's smile widened, unveiling two crescent-shaped dimples that dented his cheeks. The man was perfect. “Awesome, you must have a cool mom.”

Daphne agreed, smiling proudly at her mother, who blinked back happy tears. Y/N cleared her throat, feeling slightly embarrassed that her daughter's compliment nearly brought her to tears.

“We appreciate you and your staff. Everyone is so kind, and the ice cream tastes wonderful.” She mumbled timidly.

His crystal green eyes found hers, sending chills down her spine at how they seemed to sparkle from the compliment. He reached up, placing his palms over his heart.

“Thank you. Our customers brighten our day, but compliments like these are the reason why we opened this place. What flavor did you try?”

“Watermelon sugar, and I think I’ll crave it until next Friday.” She giggled, shaking her head in shame over her sweet tooth.

Harry threw his head back, releasing an abrupt cackle that fluttered her heart. Her mind stuttered, questioning why her body was reacting to this man she met five minutes ago. Why did his beautiful laugh make her want to join in?

“Imagine how I must feel working here. I spend a majority of my day in my office because if I didn’t, I would have to reopen my gym membership.”

Now, it was her turn to laugh, a proper boisterous laugh, which she had not heard in quite a while. However, her ex-husband's cruel nature rang loudly in her head, reminding her not to be annoying. She quickly recovered, silencing her laugh and preparing an apology, but before she could speak, Harry settled her doubts and insecurities.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” He admired her melodic laugh.

She ducked her head, hiding her sheepish grin from him. Daphne's eyes traveled back and forth from the curly-haired stranger to her bashful mother. The interaction made her question why her mother and father never laughed or smiled around one another. Did her mother like this man more than her father? Daphne hummed, examining the man further, deciding whether or not she liked him, and since she liked the lamb on his sweater, she decided the man was okay to talk with her mother. However, she needed to leave soon to change out of her uncomfortable shoes.

“Mommy, my feet hurt.”

Daphne's whines reminded Y/N, that as a mother, she should not flirt with random men. She didn’t have time for a relationship and should focus all her efforts on her daughter. Cooing, she lifted the exhausted little girl up into her arms.

“Well, I hope to see you two soon. Daphne, next time try the Lucky Charms ice cream." Harry suggested, waving goodbye to the mother and daughter.

Daphne created a mental note to try the suggested flavor next time. However, she doubted her father would bring her next Friday, so she hoped her mother might bring her back before then. Y/N wondered whether she could return to the ice cream shop. Her heart rejoiced from the attention like a middle schooler who received a note from their secret admirer. However, she could not allow this infatuation to blossom into anything else. She would return because Daphne loved the ice cream, but she would not flirt with the handsome man. * * * * *

Red paint bled through the thin paper and mixed into the watery blue paint, coloring the princess's hair a violent purple. The plastic paint brush fell against the kitchen counter at the familiar sound of jingling keys unlocking the apartment door. The little girl raced toward the door that swung open to reveal her mother’s beaming smile.

“Mommy, I missed you.” Daphne confessed, jumping into her mother’s loving embrace.

Holding her daughter tight, Y/N chuckled and dropped her purse onto the nearby table. “I missed you too, Nugget. Where is your Aunt Christie?”

“She’s cooking dinner in the kitchen before you think I abandoned your daughter.” Christie shouted from the kitchen, making the mother and daughter giggle.

When setting her daughter down, she spotted a bright red paint stain on the girl’s uniform, which transferred onto her blazer. Pressing her palm against her forehead, she hoped Christie bought washable paint so she wouldn’t have to purchase another uniform blouse for Daphne.

“Mommy, come and look at my painting.” Her daughter grabbed her hands, leading her toward the kitchen, and with that simple gesture, her worries about stained clothes washed away.

While some might consider the painting grotesque due to the amount of red paint coating the cartoon princess’s body, she admired the art as if Van Gogh completed the masterpiece himself. She grabbed a yellow alphabet magnet from one of the kitchen’s drawers and hung the art on the fridge.

While the little girl danced with joy, Christie announced, “Watch out world. A new artist has entered the scene, and her name is Daphne.”

Since last Friday, Y/N noticed how Daphne rarely cried over Tyler’s absence, and she finished the wedding photos without any more pity parties. Choosing to ignore her previous stressors, she found herself singing and laughing more often. Eventually, she knew Christie would ask about her sudden change in mood, and the question came during dinner.

"You two seem happier. What happened? Did Daphne pour sugar in your cereal?" Christie wondered, earning a giggle from her niece.

Daphne responded first, answering the questions through a mouthful of broccoli. "No, do you remember when Andrew had delicious ice cream at his birthday party? Mommy took me to that ice cream shop, and I ate an entire scoop."

Christie’s brown eyes widened in pretend shock. “An entire scoop by yourself? Are you sure your Mommy didn’t help you?”

She nodded as if she were convincing her Aunt of something unbelievable. "I did because it tastes like your key-lime pie, but next time, I'm going to try the Lucky Charms flavor because Mr. Harry told me to. I like Mr. Harry. He made Mommy laugh."

At the mention of Harry's name, Y/N ducked her head down like a teenager avoiding an awkward conversation with her mother. Taking an interest in the vegan meatloaf on her plate sounded better than making eye contact with her nosy best friend. However, once Christie cleared her throat, she knew she could not escape the inevitable questioning. Glancing up, she found herself face-to-face with Christie's smirk.

“Who is Harry?” Those three words manifested a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

She attempted to shrug nonchalantly to convince her best friend that he was not important, but her robotic movements unveiled her nerves about the subject.

“He owns the ice cream shop. We complimented the shop, and he thanked us.”

Christie knew her best friend better than anyone else, and the slight sparkle in her eyes told her all she needed to know. Y/N finally found a man worthy enough to develop a crush on. This time, she hoped she wouldn't ignore her feelings and allow herself to find happiness.

“Is this Harry attractive?” Y/N squeaked at the straightforward question, which only made Christie laugh loud and long.

Munching on the lumpy mashed potatoes, Daphne watched the women talk about Harry. She noticed how her mother wore the same smile from Friday, the smile showed more teeth, unlike the tight-lip grin she sported around Daphne's father. Her grandmother wore a similar smile when she told her granddaughter the story of how she met her grandfather. Was this what adults call love? Shouldn't her mother love her father?

Y/N took a sip from her glass of red wine before responding, “He could be a Gucci model.”

Christie hissed as if she burnt her hand on something hot. “You caught the attention of a Gucci model, and you didn’t ask him to father your children?”

Y/N gasped, reaching across the table to lightly slap her friend's arm. "Daphne is in the room." She grumbled, shaking her head with embarrassment.

Christie frowned, deciding it best to change the subject. They could discuss the possible Gucci model at a later date when her niece was not around.

Instead, she turned toward the little girl and asked, "Babe, did you tell your mom about music class?"

Daphne gasped, falling into an animated story about how Ms. Lee assigned her the role of drummer in the class band. Y/N hung on every word, but her mind and ears groaned at the mental image of her parents surprising Daphne with her very own drum kit. After that story, they all took turns telling stories from their day until their plates were empty. At the end of the night, Christie hugged them goodbye and informed Y/N that she would call tomorrow for more details about Harry. Once she shut the door, Daphne asked the question that had been on her mind since dinner.

“Do you love Daddy?”

Y/N froze, gaping at her daughter like a fish out of water. Tonight must have been the night for shocking questions because every question caught her off guard. How should she answer? Should she call Tyler before she answers? Her heart uttered the words, just be honest with her.

“I do love your father, but not in the same way that grandma loves grandpa. I want your father to be happy and healthy, but we stopped being in love a long time ago.” She hoped the questions would end there, but her daughter was as curious as her mother.

“Why?”

She hummed, kneeling so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Well, your father and I were very young when we met, and we did not know who we were as people. During our marriage, we both changed and realized that we were better off as friends than husband and wife. I’m sure your father is happy we ended our marriage because he found Joanna, and she makes him happy.”

While Daphne nodded, Y/N could see her mind trying to process the information before coming to the conclusion, “I’m glad that Daddy is happy, but I want you to be happy too.”

Tears blurred the woman’s vision, and she choked through a heartbreaking sob. How could her daughter not see that she was one of the few people who brought her happiness? She shook her head, cupping her daughter’s cheeks. “Baby, you make me the happiest mom in the world. Now, how about we cuddle and watch some cartoons before bed?”

“Yes, can we watch my favorite show?” Daphne asked, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course.” Standing up, she walked into the living room with her daughter by her side. Watching the silly cartoon, they forgot about the heavy conversation and enjoyed each other’s company. Y/N would answer Christie’s questions tomorrow, but today’s conversation with Daphne reminded her that her family was more important than a handsome man. * * * * *

The bright sun peeked out behind the dreary clouds, drying the murky puddles from the sidewalks and streets. Birds flew from the damp branches, lightening the solemn mood with cheerful chirps and songs. People fled from their busy schedules to spend a few moments outside, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of nature.

Since her next client booked a later appointment, she decided to eat lunch at the nearby park. The fork poked at the roasted brussel sprouts while she watched the crowds of people around her, from the family of three setting up a picnic to the lovely couple sharing a lunch before their offices called.

There were moments when her parents dropped all worries and duties to escape into nature for a few days, like the weekend her parents planned an impromptu camping trip because the deadlines became too much, so instead, they taught her how to build a fire and enjoy the music of the critters. She carried that sentiment into her life, finding moments throughout the week to feel the fresh air on her skin. However, her buzzing phone interrupted her second of silent gratitude.

Sighing, she answered the call despite knowing what it would bring. “Hello?”

“Hey, I need a favor. Before you lecture me about the importance of parenting, just know that I will pick up Daphne, but my boss scheduled an emergency afternoon evening. We probably won’t get out until six, so can you watch her until then? I would ask Joanna, but her boss double-booked her.” With wide eyes, she pulled the phone from her ear to double-check that the man speaking with her was her ex-husband.

This man would rather spend time with his daughter than create an excuse to skip out on his fatherly duties. Typically, she could hear the annoyance in his voice as if having a child were a burden. While her heart soared at the possibility that her daughter might finally have a father who took an interest in her life, her mind questioned and created reasons why he suddenly cared about their daughter.

“Of course, should I feed her dinner? Or do you and Joanna have dinner plans?” She asked, thinking of how long it had been since she and Tyler had a civil co-parenting conversation.

He hummed in thought for a second before deciding, “We can feed her. Wait, I almost forgot, could we keep her until Monday?”

Her heart stuttered when she thought about spending the entire weekend away from her daughter. She could not recall the last time she spent more than a few hours, let alone a day, without her. Also, she worried about her ex-husband's fatherly nature. Sure, she wanted him to spend time with their daughter, but she worried that he would not successfully prepare her for a school day.

His reassurance broke her reluctant silence. “Y/N, you can trust me. I have a few pairs of her school uniform, I know her schedule, and I will walk her to the front gates. I can even update you. Please, let me keep her for the weekend.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “Fine, but promise me that you will call me if anything goes wrong.”

Tyler chuckled, shocking her even more because she hadn’t heard that delightful sound in so long. “I promise. Joanna and I planned a Sunday dinner with my parents, and they asked if they could see Daphne, complaining that they haven’t seen her since her birthday party.”

Rolling her eyes, she exhaled the irritation growing in her chest. Her relationship with Tyler's parents was rocky. During their first meeting, they wooed her with luxury cars and expensive food, which differed from the lifestyle she grew up with.

However, once she announced her pregnancy, his parents uninvited her to their events and took to uttering hateful comments about their future granddaughter. Everything about the situation threatened their social status in the gated community. The cruel comments ceased the moment they laid their eyes on the beautiful baby, and instead, they turned their cold glares and vicious whispers toward Y/N.

They criticized her parenting skills and provided unwarranted advice on how to raise a polite young lady. Despite their hostility, Y/N sent frequent updates and planned weekends for them to visit, so their comment to Tyler irked her. If they had not seen Daphne since her birthday party, it was because they chose not to.

“When will your parents stop being so charming? Daphne will be excited to see her grandparents.”

Tyler laughed sarcastically, understanding the trouble his parents caused everyone. “I’m glad that someone will be happy to see them. Well, I better finish these reports. I’ll see you tonight.”

Ending the call, she sat, shocked that they discussed their daughter without starting an argument. Throughout the years, she could count on one hand the amount of civil co-parenting conversations they had. She wondered how long this civility would last and if her advice about being a better father finally permeated his mind. She shook her head, deciding to focus on the positive rather than overthink the conversation until she found a reason to spoil it. If she was on after-school duty, then she and Daphne could stop by Dreams Cones, which meant she might run into Harry again. She leaned her head back, thanking the sun for blessing everyone. * * * * *

Children gathered around the marble counters to speculate about the new ice cream flavor, teenagers borrowed board games from a bookshelf to rid themselves of the pressures from school, and parents claimed tables to discuss upcoming weekend plans.

Daphne sprinted toward the crowd, ignoring her mother’s stern reminder that people do not run indoors. The magenta-colored ice cream gained everyone's attention because, unlike the other flavors, this new sweet treat lacked a name. Instead, someone had scribbled three question marks onto the paper card taped to the glass display.

Harry chose unique names for the other flavors, so she wondered why he hadn't done the same for this one. Perhaps he needed to workshop the name some more, but his excitement insisted that he could not keep the flavor from his customers any longer. Maybe he chose a name but taped the wrong placard to the display.

Breaking her focus from the mystery container, she looked up, expecting to find the grinning woman from their last visit; however, she found herself face to face with the owner’s irresistible dimpled grin. All the air from her lungs became trapped in her throat, and her heart tried beating out of her chest and into his beautiful hands.

“Y/N, I'm happy to see that you and Daphne returned.” The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter wildly. Despite the numerous customers he met daily, he remembered their names and actually sounded happy to see them. She wondered whether or not this man was real.

Locking away her bothersome emotions, she responded rationally and calmly. “Thank you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Well, she tried.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, but once the initial shock cleared, he didn't seem disgusted by her comment. Instead, his warm smile shifted into a smug grin as if her slip-up intrigued him. While he handled the situation with grace, she prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She pictured some higher being cackling at her as she shook her head fervently.

“I'm sorry. I meant to say I haven't stopped thinking about your ice cream. I promise I'm not trying to hit on you." Her mind begged her mouth to shut up. She didn't want him to think she didn't find him attractive. "Not that you aren't incredibly handsome."

Processing the conversation, she groaned and dragged a palm down her face. At that moment, she decided someone could die from embarrassment. She recalled when she could speak normally with people she found attractive, but her skills must be rusty from their lack of use.

An amused chuckle flittered past his rosy lips as he crossed his arms across his chest, clearly enjoying the sight of her squirming and scrambling to correct herself. “Thank you, I needed that today. I woke up feeling unsure about myself. Would it be inappropriate to say that you look beautiful?”

“It's not, thank you.” She mumbled, biting back a bashful grin.

For a moment, she basked in his sweet words, allowing her heart to soar with excitement because he thought she was beautiful. Would she replay this conversation before she fell asleep tonight? Yes, she would repeat his words and alter the situation so that it ends with them on a romantic date. Her dreams were the only space she could be selfish and chase after the life she wanted.

Daphne watched the shy couple flirt with one another, stopping her staring only once to wave and smile at Harry when he looked at her. Thanks to her friends, she realized that her mother might have a crush on the curly-haired man.

During recess, she told Ziva and Andrew about the situation, and they informed her that her mother like-liked Harry. However, Ziva raised an important question, did Daphne want a new father? She didn't know. She never questioned her parent's relationship because her earlier memories always featured her father's girlfriend. Did she wonder why her parents weren't in love like Ziva or Andrew's parents? Yes, but if her father could be happy with Joanna, then her mother deserved happiness too. She was hesitant to replace her father with Harry, but she would accept him because he made her mom happy.

“Hi Daphne, how are you?” He asked, returning her wave.

“I’m excited because I get to spend the weekend with my dad and Joanna.” She announced through a toothy smile.

He glanced at Y/N, scanning her face for negative emotions before returning his attention to the little girl. “I hope you have an excellent time with them. Did you want to surprise your father with a cup of our ice cream?”

She shook her head while her mother answered his question. “Although my ex-husband loves surprises, he despises anything sweet.”

Then Daphne added some vital information, “He’s also allergic to milk.”

Harry chuckled, nodding slowly. “Well, that’s too bad, but at least you can still enjoy ice cream. What flavors will you two be trying today?”

Daphne found herself in a predicament. The Lucky Charm ice cream promised colorful marshmallows and cavity-causing sweetness, but the mystery flavor guaranteed excitement and amazement. What flavor did her mother want? Could she convince her to order the new flavor while she stuck with the safest option? Before Daphne could decide, her mother eased all of her stress.

“I might try the new flavor.” His dimpled grin reappeared at her response.

He nodded once before bouncing toward the purple treat, his head bobbing side-to-side with each step. Elation radiated from his heart and soul, eliminating anyone's sour mood in a two-mile radius. Y/N and Daphne shared an amused look and a giggle before following the man. The short distance between them allowed Y/N to peek at his outfit for the day, which consisted of navy blue dress pants, a pastel blue striped dress shirt (which he folded at the elbow, a look she found herself drooling over), and a sweater vest with white sheep dotted over it. She should hire him as her stylist since her closet consisted of worn shirts and blazers for work.

“Recently, I created a new ice cream flavor, but I struggled with the naming process. I wrote down multiple unoriginal names. Until I had an idea to let my customers choose the new name. If you order the ice cream, you will also receive a slip of paper to write down your idea and drop it in the box by the door. In two weeks, the staff and I will choose our favorite suggestion, and the winner will receive free ice cream for a month.” Once Harry finished his announcement, she realized a crowd of curious customers had gathered around them. Perhaps she should have paid attention to the contest rules instead of watching his rosy lips curve around each word.

“How fun and creative. Can I have one scoop of the mystery flavor in a cup, and a–” she paused, realizing she hadn’t asked Daphne what flavor she wanted.

Luckily, he heard the lull in her speech and jumped in where she left off, “Daphne, what flavor would you like?”

“Lucky Charms in a cone.” Daphne's anxious heart rested easy because now she could taste both flavors without the risk of wasting her Friday treat on an icky treat.

Before scooping the sweet treat, he readjusted his sleeves, pushing the starchy material further up his arm. Y/N couldn't help but admire the concentrated crinkle between his eyebrows as he created the perfect scoop. Her knees even went weak when his pink tongue poked out to swipe over his bottom lip. Why did this man have such a powerful effect on her? Was she really that lonely? Her mind reminded her heart that true love did not exist, and her feelings were caused by a chemical reaction.

“Here you go, love. Be careful, the cone is a bit messy.” He mumbled, handing her their order. While reaching for the cone, her fingers brushed against his soft hands, sending her heart into a frenzy. What did her brain know about love?

Before Harry could ring up the two scoops, two teenagers shouted their orders at him. He appeared hesitant, stuck between helping these new customers and continuing his conversation with them. However, he chose the former in an attempt to ease the customers’ scowls. Another cheerful staff member informed Y/N that he could finish where his boss left off, and although she doubted that, she followed him to the register.

“What does the flavor remind you of?” She asked, processing the tangy yet fruity flavors dancing along her tongue. Did she taste blueberry or blackberry? When was the last time she ate a blackberry?

Her daughter hummed, tapping the spoon’s handle against her chin. “Christmas.”

Confusion halted all other thoughts about the flavor. Instead, she chuckled lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Christmas? Why?”

The little girl shrugged, delving into her well-thought-out response, “Every Christmas morning, Grandma surprises us with blueberry muffins, and when I taste this, I miss Christmas and Grandma.”

In parenthood, there were many moments when a child might say something sweet, which not only made the parent proud of the small person they were raising but also brought tears to their eyes. She rubbed the corners of her eyes, catching any stray tears from rolling down her cheeks. When she missed her parents, she would replay memories of Christmas mornings in her mind because they radiated love and happiness, and now, she learned that her daughter also cherished those moments.

“Well, we should suggest the name, Christmas morning.” A gleeful giggle bubbled past Daphne's lips as she watched her mom write down the name on the slip of paper. “Should we leave? Your father should be at the apartment soon.”

Daphne nodded, sliding off the chair. “I can’t wait to see Daddy. Do you think he’ll take me to the zoo?”

While her daughter bombarded her with questions about the weekend, Y/N glanced over at Harry, wondering whether she should say goodbye; however, his furrowed brows and the crowded counter convinced her to walk away. Dropping the paper slip into the box by the door, she answered a few of her daughter’s twenty questions. She ignored the painful tug in her heart caused by the thought that she wouldn’t see Harry until next Friday.

Reigning in her emotions, she reminded herself that she did not have time to date. Also, why would Harry want to date a single mother? She pictured him dating a beautiful, up-and-coming model who spent her free time ending world hunger. He belonged with someone as wonderful as he was and who did not have as much baggage as she did. Thankfully, Daphne pulled her mother from another spiral with a hilarious joke about cows and movies. Laughter dissolved her stress as she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, bringing her ball of sunshine closer so that her gray clouds might float away. * * * * *

Neon-pink lights illuminated the dark room while trendy music blared from a nearby speaker. Draping a feathery boa around her shoulders, an optimistic university student discussed her dreams about the future. She imagined exploring unknown locations, tasting world cuisine, meeting new people, and falling in love with strangers. She might even find her soulmate on a beach in Greece. While the camera captured the young woman's beauty, Y/N listened intently as if this girl were her daughter. Through a warm smile, she showed her support for the young woman and her aspirations because they reminded her of the goals she made before meeting Tyler. However, she hoped no one derailed this woman from achieving her dreams.

“Scrolling through the photos, the woman gasped. “Wow, you made me look beautiful.” She whispered in awe, selecting the perfect one for her birthday Instagram post.

Y/N chuckled, returning the extra props to the storage room. Since her next appointment was after lunch, she would reorganize the items once the customer left. Easy days, like today, were great because they allowed her to catch up on simple tasks she kept putting off. If she bribed her assistant, Kira, into helping, they might be able to leave earlier for lunch.

“Remember, the camera captures the art. You were always beautiful. I hope you have an excellent birthday.”

The young woman pouted her lips and cupped her chest. “Thank you. Can I give you a hug?”

The woman briefly hugged Y/N, then spun around and walked out as if she were on her next mission, but not without almost bumping into Kira at the door.

“She’s in a hurry,” Kira mumbled, glancing back at the young woman getting into her Uber ride.

Y/N grinned. "It's her birthday, so she scheduled a self-love day. What did you bring me?" She asked, eyeing the two plastic cups filled with iced coffee.

Growing up, she despised coffee and coffee-flavored products. However, once she gave birth to Daphne, her body craved the extra energy, juggling between university classes and a newborn baby. As long as she flavored the drink with creams and syrups, she could find the strength within to swallow the liquid. Now, her body could not function without an ounce of coffee coursing through her veins.

“I ordered two brown sugar coffees with oat milk. Have we tried that one?” Her assistant asked, handing her the cold drink.

Every week, they ordered a drink they hadn’t tried before, but she also didn’t remember trying this drink, so it had to be new. She shook her head, sipping the caffeinated beverage, immediately tasting the harsh, bitter coffee notes rather than the sugary sweetness she was used to. She couldn’t disappoint her assistant, who appeared to love the drink by the speed at which she was drinking it, so she hummed and nodded her head as if the drink impressed her.

“Thank you. It's delicious, but I miss my usual order." She lied partially because she did miss her favorite caramel-flavored coffee, but she did not enjoy the new drink.

“I'm glad we tried something new,” Kira admitted before glancing at the crowded storage room. “Do you need help reorganizing the props?”

She nodded. “If we finish early enough, we can have a long lunch.”

“Sure thing.” Kira followed her toward the room, pausing the moment she remembered the last-minute appointment she had not added to her boss's calendar. “Wait, I scheduled an eleven o’clock appointment. The client’s name is Gemma Styles. She and her brother want to surprise their mother with a sibling portrait.”

“Okay, that sounds easy enough.” She mumbled, loading a few props into her arms. “Will you stay at the front desk and wait for them?”

While tidying the storage room, Y/N thought about Daphne and the weekend. Tyler's parenting skills surprised her. He planned a zoo visit, sent her photos of Daphne with the flamingos, and called her every night so their daughter could say goodnight. He hadn’t been a present parent for two years, but she couldn’t be happier that something or someone finally woke that side of him up.

Her only complaint involved the lack of information about yesterday’s dinner with his parents. When she asked about his parents, he avoided the subject, which meant they either criticized his parenting skills or hers, but curiosity bubbled within. What did they say? If it was about her, did he stand up for her? Was it about Joanna? She hoped Daphne could answer these questions when she picked her up from school.

“Welcome to Artistic Lens. My name is Kira. How may I help you?” Kira’s question announced the arrival of her afternoon clients. “Hello, I’m Harry. This is my sister Gemma.” Her ears perked up the moment she heard his angelic voice.

Her hands paused their movements while her mind raised questions. Was Harry actually in her studio? Did he know she owned this space? Is that why he chose this location? Wiping the sweat from her palms onto her jeans, she ignored the questions distracting her from moving. She cleared her throat, reminding herself to remain professional because he was her client first and potential crush second. She could not afford another slip-up like the last time they spoke.

She spotted his curly locks first, then his floral sweater, which featured an array of bright colors like turquoise and sunflower yellow. Gemma, his sister, wore a floral dress that contained similar colors to her brother's outfit. The siblings shared characteristics, such as their astounding beauty and cheek dimples. She wondered if they had tried modeling. She could picture them walking the runway in Gucci, Bode, and other big-name designers.

“Hello, I'm Y/N, and I'm the photographer.” She plastered her best customer service grin onto her face to appear unbothered.

When he heard her voice, Harry experienced four distinct emotions: confusion, realization, happiness, and lastly, embarrassment. A sheepish grin unraveled across his face while his eyes met hers once before glancing around the room. She smiled at his sister, chalking up his shy behavior as his reaction to seeing her outside the ice cream parlor, like a student seeing their teacher out in the wild. However, Kira and Gemma witnessed the interaction, leading his sister to embarrass him further.

“It’s lovely to meet you. Harry, didn’t you just tell me about a woman named Y/N, who you found very—” Harry’s eyes widened, and his hands covered his sister’s mouth before she could finish her sentence.

While Gemma shoved her brother away, Kira and Y/N shared an amused look. He huffed, fixing his posture and rolling his eyes. Y/N giggled, finding the entire situation sweet and flattering because, according to his sister, Harry talked about her.

“Harry and I have met. My daughter and I love his ice cream shop. Now, tell me about your vision.”

She moved the conversation forward and away from their flirty friendship, watching his shoulders deflate and his dimpled grin return as if he could finally relax.

“Our mom always complains that we never take pictures together anymore, so we planned on surprising her with photos of us.” Gemma explained, obviously taking charge of the surprise.

Y/N nodded, motioning toward her camera and the backdrops. “Great, we can get started over there. Kira, will you bring us the wooden bench from the storage room?” While her assistant disappeared to the storage room, she positioned the Styles siblings in front of the gray backdrop.

Before beginning the photoshoot, she checked the lighting, flipped through the camera settings, and examined their outfits. Harry paired his bright sweater with beige pants, and Gemma tied a pink scarf around her neck to match the peonies on her brother's top. She feared the light colors might wash out the siblings; however, the camera captured their beauty and radiating glow.

“You both look amazing. I selected your first pose, but feel free to move and pose as you like. I want the photos to look natural rather than two perfectly still models.” She explained, snapping a few test shots.

Kira returned shortly with the bench, placing the item beside the backdrop. "Should I turn on your playlist?"

She nodded, “Sure, unless Gemma or Harry, do you want to play a certain playlist?” Lifting her head from the camera, she saw Harry shaking his head.

“No, you should play your music. People find my music taste—” He paused, rummaging through his mind for the correct word to describe his music, but Gemma responded for her brother before he could even stop her, “Eclectic.”

“Yes, so please, play whatever you like.” His eager smile contained a level of excitement that she found endearing, almost as if he truly wanted to learn what music she loved.

Shuffling the playlist, she smiled when her favorite singer crooned through the speaker.

“I love this song,” Harry confessed, bopping his head to the beat.

“Me too. Don't you want to sing along?” She asked, humming with the love-sick singer.

She pictured a life where she and her spouse would listen to this music while cooking dinner. A life where they would sing along, off-key, of course, while chopping vegetables. Her spouse would grab Daphne's hands and dance with her around the kitchen. She would capture these important moments with her camera. A room overflowing with love and laughter.

Lately, these daydreams featured a curly-haired, green-eyed man. His hands would grip her hips, spinning her around and away from the cutting board while he hummed some romantic song. They would waltz around the kitchen, discussing their days in hushed whispers. Eventually, he would let her finish dinner while he helped Daphne with schoolwork. During these moments, she believed someone as handsome as Harry could love her.

Gemma chuckled, shaking her head while finding a new pose. “You don’t want me to sing. Unlike Harry, some of us weren’t born with an amazing voice. Did you know he was in a band?”

Her head shot up from the camera as she blinked the shock away. Harry, feeling sheepish again, twiddled his thumbs while she stared at him in awe. “First, who cares if we suck at singing? We should sing along anyway. Second, you were in a band? Please tell me more.”

While dragging his fingers through his hair, a nervous chuckle fumbled past his rosy lips. “When I was fourteen, me and my mates decided to start a band. Our parents and friends hired us for local events, but the band barely survived two years.”

“During his university years, he performed solo at pubs.” Gemma added, smiling proudly at her brother.

Y/N smiled through her shock. During their university years, she and Tyler spent many weekends at pubs, and now, she wondered if she and Harry were ever in the same room. However, she thinks she would have remembered his angelic voice and alluring presence.

“Well, I think that’s amazing. You are quite the catch, Harry.” She winked, bringing back his dimpled grin.

Continuing the photoshoot, Y/N focused on backdrops, props, and poses. Everyone fell into a comfortable silence, only speaking when Gemma mentioned a topic she planned on discussing on her podcast. During these moments, Y/N agreed with her positive attitudes and views. She could see Gemma joining her and Christie for Sunday brunch, where they could gossip and laugh over mimosas. Should she befriend the sister of the man she was crushing on? Her eyes washed over him, admiring the sparkle in his green eyes and the two tattooed swallows on his chest. She paused. When did this gentle, shy man get two tattoos? Were there more?

“You have a tattoo.” What should have been a question came out as a statement, one that made Harry scan his body as if searching for which tattoo might be on display, which only answered her question that there must be more than the two on his chest, then with a furrowed brow and worried eyes, he made eye contact with her intrigued ones.

He cleared his throat before speaking up. “Yeah, I have multiple tattoos. During uni, my mate bought a tattoo gun, which resulted in many stupid tattoos, but I don’t regret them. They remind me of a different time.”

While listening to his explanation, her heart fluttered. “That’s incredibly sweet. I want a tattoo, but I’m terrified of needles. I nearly fainted when the nurses gave me the epidural for Daphne’s birth.” Her confession made the siblings chuckle.

“I was like that during my first tattoo, but now, I'm a pro. If you really want one, I could come with you to keep you company." He stuttered through the end of the sentence as if his mind processed what his mouth said. “Unless you want to bring anyone else who isn’t a complete stranger to you.” He rambled, trying to fix his earlier statement.

She shook her head with an amused giggle. “Harry, you aren’t a complete stranger. I’m very touched by your offer, and if I ever decide to get a tattoo, you will be the first person I call.”

He sighed with relief, dropping his shoulders down from his ears. Gemma observed the interaction, noting her brother's unusual behavior. Throughout her life, she witnessed Harry's confidence first-hand. From the moment he could talk, he loved being the center of attention, and his charming attitude introduced him to more relationships than she could remember. She recalled a time when he tripped over a rug, ripped his pants, and still received a phone number from the person he was chatting up. His confidence carried him through life, and she had never seen it falter until she watched her brother flirt with the photographer.

“Okay, we are all done. I think your mother will love these.” Y/N bragged because although she captured the magic, she couldn’t have done it without Gemma and Harry’s natural beauty and warmth.

“Thank you so much.” Gemma giggled with excitement, wrapping her arms around the photographer’s body.

Y/N chuckled, returning the comforting hug. She spotted Harry’s warm smile over Gemma’s shoulder, which served as his “thank you” for the photographs and for entertaining his sister. The smile resembled that of a loving boyfriend, happy that his girlfriend impressed his family. Her stomach clenched with butterflies at the idea of Harry as her boyfriend.

She pulled away from the hug, dropping her gaze from him. “Once I edit the photos, I’ll send them to you. Should I have any questions, is the number on file a good one to reach you at?”

Gemma nodded, then hummed as if a thought just struck her. “Well, I probably won’t answer if I’m in an interview.” She turned toward her brother with a mischievous grin, revealing her intentions. “You should give her your number too. You answer the phone more than I do.”

He nodded once, scribbling his number onto the contact sheet Kira provided them. Y/N could sense his annoyance with Gemma's constant embarrassing comments, so she planned to make the rest of the interaction fast and painless. She handed Kira the sheet, which they would file later, and then faced the siblings.

“Great, I hope you two have an excellent day.” Y/N smiled.

Harry mumbled a “you too” under his breath, shuffling toward the glass door, unlike his sister, who had one more plan up her sleeves. “Wait, have you eaten lunch? Harry and I would love to treat you to lunch as a thank you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her mind racing with every reason why she should not accept the invitation. Harry noticed the hesitation in her eyes, which landed on his, and searched for any sign that he did not want her to join them, but all she found was a warm welcome.

“You should come. I’d love to get to know you more.” He spoke up, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N nodded, matching his dazed grin. “Well, I’m never one to turn down a free lunch. I would love to join you.”

#mine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #new series

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gffa · 6 months

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I haven't read any STEVE/BUCKY FIC in the last five years or so (Endgame really burned me hard), BUT I can at least offer what I read up to that point! Most of my recs are from around when Captain America: The Winter Soldier first came out (some from before, so there's a few speculation fics) and then I was ready semi-regularly up through Inifinity War, so these may be a bit dated but also the fandom had some ABSOLUTE BANGER fics from that era! I mostly read from about 2014 to 2019 and I can't say how well many of these held up, but I know my tastes haven't changed that much, so there should hopefully be something for anyone interested here! Anyway, I think I'm finally Not As Mad As I Once Was enough to read fic again/celebrate the 10th anniversary of TWS, but also let's be clear. I will forever hold a grudge about what Marvel did with Steve and Bucky post-TWS, that was bullshit from start to finish. ESPECIALLY the finish, oh my god okay so I'm still Actually That Mad and-- NO, OKAY, HAVE SOME FIC RECS BEFORE I MELT DOWN AGAIN.

CAPTAIN AMERICA FIC RECS YOU'LL FIND HERE:

STEVE/BUCKY SHIP FICS

STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR

STEVE & BUCKY-CENTRIC FICS (WITH A LITTLE OF EVERYONE ELSE, TOO)

STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE/BUCKY FIC RECS: ✦ Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Take Me In by victoria_p (musesfool), steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff, reunion fic, 4.1k Bucky finds himself, and then he finds Steve. ✦ you got blood on your hands (and i know it’s mine) by nighimpossible, steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff + brief mention of sam wilson/natasha romanoff, suicidal ideation, 2.9k Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming. ✦ take all you can carry by havisham, steve/bucky & cast, 2.4k Bucky Barnes reassembles himself to a reasonable degree and makes romantic overtures to one Steve Rogers. It’s happened before and will happen again. ✦ I’d Know That Face Anywhere by Shay081793, steve/bucky, NSFW, divergent timeline, 2.7k The 107th never got captured. Instead, Bucky Barnes is in the audience when that clown "Captain America" performs to rally the troops, and holy shit, that clown is Steve Rogers. ✦ and we are finally home by springsoldier (ladydaredevil), sam & bucky + steve/bucky + implied sam/natasha + implied bucky/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam's kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Capture the Flag by Shiny_n_new, steve/bucky + sam, dark au, 9.4k wip Bucky has always been willing to do Captain America’s dirty work. This was no different. Sometimes, the day isn’t won by high ideals or bravery or compassion. Sometimes, it’s won by monsters. ✦ Memories are Made of This by eleveninches, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, 13.2k Nearly a year after turning himself into SHIELD and the Avengers, Bucky struggles to find himself in the 21st century. Unfortunately, no one told him about the aliens.

✦ but hey, you’re all right by beardsley, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 5.5k Yes, this is the story where the Winter Soldier is a Russian mail-order bride. Everything goes about as well as you’d expect. ✦ I Left Myself in 1943 (Who the hell is Bucky?) by originalblue, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 21k You have a mission, but your mind is being split in two, and there's a man on the bridge, and you know him. You don't know why, but you know him. ✦ sam deserves better than these assholes by lazulisong, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 18k IM SORRY BUT SAM WILSON STARING IN BAFFLED WONDER AT STEVE AND BUCKY AND HOW WEIRD THEY ARE ABOUT EACH OTHER ✦ broken pieces (the rough edges remix) by legete, steve/bucky, 2.1k It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but sometimes Bucky prefers the nightmares that actually happened. ✦ Talk Dirty to Me by PeetaPan, steve/bucky, NSFW, wall sex, 2.5k Steve spends months tracking Bucky down, and when he eventually find him, it’s in a nightclub in Europe. ✦ the body adrift by Febricant, steve/bucky + sam, mildy nsfw, 4.2k Steve has no drawings of Bucky from before. Those are all gone, destroyed in the war or by his own hand; it wouldn’t do for anyone to see how easily the details came from memory, how often Bucky was in his thoughts. ✦ Tony Stark and the Illegal Cross-Country Road Trip from Hell by ActionAddiction, steve/bucky + tony + sam + clint + natasha + fury, 21.8k wip A stir-crazy genius, a secretly sentimental assassin, two soldiers lost in time, and an undercover archer without an identity zigzag across the continental United States in Fury’s stolen van. Or: How Bucky Met Steve (Again)

✦ Didn’t know I was lonely till I saw your face by gunboots, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha + sam + bruce + tony + xavier, 2.9k There are words on paper, actors in movies, and a grand story that fills a whole corner of a museum defined by history. There are words, there are pictures, there are movies, but they’re limited, fragmented. They can’t do justice to the sniper that Captain America trusted, the man that grew into a boy in the streets of Brooklyn with his best friend at his side. The man that could be James Buchanan Barnes leaves a legacy that is barely defined. The man that Steve Rogers says he is. ✦ the inaccuracy of historical wartime dramas by Mici (noharlembeat), steve/bucky + sam + natasha, 3k (or: Steve has feelings, and shouldn’t ever watch television) ✦ The Shape I’m In by radialarch, steve/bucky, 2.6k [AU where Bucky never fell.] They win the war. Steve and Bucky come home and deal with their feelings. ✦ дорогой by smilebackwards, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, canon divergence, 1.8k “Are you goddamn kidding me?” Fury asks when Steve shows up to the rendezvous point in Fredericksberg with the Winter Soldier. ✦ have you ever thought just maybe by Desdemon, steve/bucky + tony/pepper + other marvel characters, humor, 4.4k “JARVIS,” Tony called thoughtfully. “Yes, sir?” “Those young people are in love,” he said. ✦ Use Your Damn Words by wilddragonflying, steve/bucky, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.2k There’s murmuring, indistinct voices, all around him; all he catches, at first, are the occasional words. “—mated.” “—no difference—“ “—make him forget—“ That’s when Bucky starts fighting. ✦ It’s an Adequate Life, Bucky Barnes by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, it’s a wonderful life fusion, 10.2k This is a world without Bucky Barnes.

✦ and it starts just where the light exists by caughtinanocean, steve/bucky, mildly nsfw, 3.4k In which Bucky can’t admit the things he needs, but Steve knows them anyway, and Steve and Bucky are definitely a couple, even if they don’t know it. ✦ tango till they’re sore by sciencemyfiction, steve/bucky, nsfw, 4k Four shorts about Steve and Bucky, and romance, and sex, and dominance, and grief, and forgiveness. ✦ Permission by derekstilinski, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 2.5k After Bucky’s captured by SHIELD, they put him in a holding cell, and strip him of everything but his clothes. He’s dirty, damaged, and Steve can’t just watch him like that, protocol or not. ✦ Milkshakes & Penguin Suits by TheLocket, steve/bucky, fluff, 2.9k At the latest Stark party, Steve and Bucky share a milkshake — and spend the evening together. ✦ Practical Mathematics by Grey_Bard, steve/bucky + steve/peggy + steve/peggy/bucky + tony, 1.7k After a hard shift saving the world, Stark - in his infinite wisdom - has decided to bond with Steve by talking about his favorite subject. Well, third favorite, after building things and smart-mouthing people. Steve is pretty sure none of his experiences really count. Tony is starting to wonder what Steve’s definition of “is” is. ✦ how happy must be angels thus employed by lanyon , steve/bucky + clint/coulson, mildly nsfw, humor, 2k It begins entirely accidentally. Clint walks in on Bucky and Steve in a compromising position and then Bucky escalates by tapping a private line between Clint and Phil. Also known as The One With The Cock-Blocking Competition (and it’s all fun and games until Phil and Steve find out.) ✦ Fate by grumpyowls, steve/bucky + peggy, 2.1k Bucky finds a drawing and it turns out to mean something more than he thought.

✦ One More Time by DevBasaa, steve/bucky, pre-serum, ~1k Steve’s clueless and Bucky’s not yet ready to acknowledge these feelings. But that doesn’t stop him from having them. Set before Bucky ships out, but after Steve receives his A1. ✦ Bucky and Bear by fromgoodbones, steve/bucky, fluffy, ~1k Steve gets Bucky a cat. ✦ Size Isn’t A Problem by bondboy68, steve/bucky, NSFW, 1.8k It’s the first time Bucky has seen Steve naked in some seventy-odd years, and things have definitely changed.

STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION:

✦ devil’s gonna follow me (wherever I go) by Lyaka, steve/bucky & natasha & cast, the winter soldier speculation, 63k The man who used to be Bucky Barnes lined up his shot. His finger twitched, only once, very precisely. Help me, the bullet sang. Ninety-eight floors below him, the bullet glanced off a vibranium shield with a musical ping. And Steve Rogers looked up. ✦ And it felt like a kiss by orphan_account, steve /bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k We can’t stop feeling Winter Soldier feelings. And neither can Bucky or Steve. ✦ testament by paxlux, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier speculation fic, 10.6k His memory runs backwards in crooked bright flashes, hard as the noise flare of an assault rifle. ✦ persistence of memory by hollimichele, steve/bucky/natasha, NSFW, the winter soldier speculation, 11.5k It’s a nondescript sort of a Wednesday morning when the Winter Soldier walks into SHIELD headquarters, bold as brass, and announces his intention to surrender. ✦ To Be Modified As Necessary by ignipes, steve/bucky & bucky/natasha & clint/natasha & thor/jane & avengers, the winter soldier speculation, 5.9k They only need ten rules to ensure (relatively) peaceful cohabitation. ✦ lights at two dollars a strand by legete, steve/bucky + tony, the winter soldier speculation, 1.4k They don’t mean to decorate for Christmas. It just sorta…happens.

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ Out of the Dead Land by orphan_account, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + nick fury + other marvel characters, nsfw in one scene at the end, 62.7k Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes. ✦ this is a back alley by saintsideways, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 14.2k Here is the only thing you know: the body remembers. ✦ your blue-eyed boys by Feather (lalaietha), steve/bucky & cast, 123.3k Steve has no plan. Not because he hadn't tried to make one. He'd tried to make lots of plans. Plan, adapt, plan again, tried to think of every contingency. [post-Winter Soldier recovery fic] ✦ The man on the bridge by boopboop, steve/bucky & tony/pepper & clint/natasha & cast, 107.5k Steve Rogers turning up at Tony's door with an amnesiac assassin - who may or may not have some of Tony's personally designed hardware attached where his arm should be - well that's just far too interesting to turn away, even if Tony is trying to avoid all things S.H.I.E.L.D these days. ✦ Soft Spot for the Hell Raisin’ Boy by ifeelbetter, sam & bucky + steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, (some) humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier takes an interest in Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes wants to tell him how to be Steve Rogers’s best friend. ✦ Reconstruction Site by EmilianaDarling, steve/bucky + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 7.6k He is the Winter Soldier. He is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s not one and he’s not the other, and he’s not sure if that makes him anything worth saving. In which the Winter Soldier leads Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a wild goose chase through Eastern Europe so that he can learn more about the man who actually thinks he can be saved.

✦ hold me tight by hollimichele, bucky/steve + sam + natasha, nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 11.1k In the old days, before the war, Steve got cold at night. That was all it was, at first. ✦ A Bullet in the Barrel (of your best guy’s gun) by lc2l, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, canon divergence (sort of), violence, 6k You return to the concrete hole in the ground where the mission is not dead and not in the sewers and is looking at you. “Bucky,” says Rogers, Steve (deceased). ✦ Sleeperhold by Argyle, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.2k He’s hardwired to disappear. ✦ lost my fear of falling by ftmsteverogers, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, 1.8k “It’s been two weeks,” Natasha says, pressing a coffee cup into Steve’s hand. “How long are we going to do this?” Steve watches the steam curl into question marks above his cup. “I know he’s still in there,” he says, and that’s that. ✦ but the fires are coming by stitchingatthecircuitboard, steve/bucky + bucky & natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He does not remember, except that is better than being made to forget, again, and again, and again. He does not go to Brooklyn. ✦ we did not make ourselves by M_Leigh, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 25.1k It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows. ✦ measured my life in cooking lessons by FoxGlade, steve/bucky + clint + avengers, fluff, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He knocks on Clint’s door, sharp and loud, and half a minute later Clint is standing there in boxers and a baggy Army Rangers shirt. “Morning,” Steve says shortly, before Clint can say anything. “You up to teaching me how to make those French toasts? I think I need to talk.” Clint yawns and stretches. Something in his back makes a loud cracking sound and Steve winces. “Yeah, I’m up,” he mumbles, then squints. “This is going to be a long cooking lesson, isn’t it?” “I found Bucky sitting outside the tower on the street when I went out for a jog and he remembered me but I’m pretty sure that’s all he remembers.” Clint just waves a hand and heads for the kitchen, Steve shuffling in his wake.

✦ and we are finally home by lastembers, sam & bucky + steve/bucky + sam/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam’s kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Circling Back by chaya, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 59.6k Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him. ✦ your favorite ghost by augustbird, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 21k It’s harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home. ✦ Green-Eyed Monster by storiesfortravellers, steve/bucky + steve & tony + steve & sam + bucky & natasha, humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier has joined the team and is slowly recovering, but he goes into a jealous rage whenever he sees that Steve is close friends with Tony, Sam, or Natasha. Past Steve/Bucky. ✦ Castor and Pollux by StringTheori, howard stark & steve + steve/bucky, mild the winter soldier spoilers, 2.9k A fic where Howard is emotionally constipated, a terrible human being, catches someone doing something, and brushes off friendships because he can. ✦ Find My Way by Brenda, steve/bucky + oc pov, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.6k Well, someone had to write the post-Winter Soldier fic where Bucky gets a decent meal and some homemade apple pie, right?

✦ Parallel Constructions by freshbakedlady, steve/bucky + sam + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 13.6k In the absence of orders, the man wearing the face of Bucky Barnes must figure out who he will be. The answer, mostly, is “somebody Steve Rogers can love.” Nothing so easy should ever take this much work. ✦ five people bucky barnes never was. by rhllors, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.9k Five lives that never came to pass. ✦ no heart to recall by KiaraSayre, steve/bucky & sam & natasha & tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 15.3k He’s been in Steve Rogers’s company for less than twenty-four hours and he’s already losing sight of his mission. ✦ Bring Us Back a Souvenir by newredshoes, steve/bucky & sam & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.5k Even with all his hair hacked off, he doesn’t look like a Bucky, Sam thinks. Maybe as some sort of stupid joke, like naming your most vicious dog Sweetpea. Steve’s told him the stories, and he’s seen the old newsreels; he knows what this Barnes guy used to be like. But it’s not like knowing what to look for is going to magically make some spark rise to the top. This isn’t an excavation. ✦ i will be your ground by misprinting, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.7k A character study. The subject: Bucky’s hair. (Also, a Bucky comes in from the cold fic.) ✦ Debts by vestigialwords, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k Steve’s life is a collection of debts, and the balance does not work out in his favor. ✦ Five times Steve kissed Bucky by paragon, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 16.5k (+ once, finally, it was the other way around) ✦ Run Until the Road Runs Out by ignipes, steve/bucky + sam & bucky + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 5.2k Sam’s along for this ride because he’s not about to let Steve Rogers go it alone, but Steve’s not the only one who needs a friend.

✦ And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me by ifeelbetter, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.4k The Captain woke quickly and tested the chain before he saw the Soldier. All the tension in his body evaporated once he met the Soldier’s eyes and he slumped downward, back up against the wall. “Oh, thank god,” he said. He repeated it twice, quiet. Like a secret. ✦ Your Mind Rings by Amberly, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.2k You aren’t Bucky. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore, either, but you’re not Bucky ✦ tabula rasa by dance_at_bougival, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 10.3k Bucky Barnes screamed himself hoarse on that table and screamed falling off that train. He screamed when they programmed him and screamed and screamed until he isn’t Bucky Barnes anymore, not really. He is still screaming, a trapped rat running around a labyrinthine machine, clawing at the doors and running into dead ends. He has been screaming for seventy years. ✦ The Age’s Most Uncertain Hour by dewinter, steve/bucky + peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.8k Five times the Winter Soldier remembered (and then forgot). ✦ The Steven G. Rogers Guide to What You Missed the Last Few Years by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, humor, 5.1k Steve’s got the hang of this 21st century thing. ✦ All the First Times by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier spoilers, 9.6k Bucky starts over and finds new ways to survive. ✦ Me Against Your Memory (It’s a Two-Step Recovery Process) by thisiswhatthewatergaveme, steve/bucky + steve & natasha + steve & sam + natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 56.5k wip The Soldier needs answers. It’s the only mission he has left. And the mission is all he has.

✦ Make It Up as We Go Along by hannahrhen, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, mildly nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.6k Steve’s a terrible liar when he opens his mouth. ✦ What’s in a name by Ark, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.4k Steve doesn’t resist. He is dipped back: a dance. “Bucky,” says Steve. The severely serene surface does not stir. “You will answer the questions I ask.” The Soldier’s voice is Bucky’s but the accent is all wrong. His face is Bucky’s, perfect, and all wrong. ✦ Drawn From Life by littlerhymes, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 2.5k “I remember,” Bucky says, but that’s not entirely true. Set after The Winter Soldier.

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR: ✦ Coming Back by Emotionallyunstabl, entire cast (some steve/bucky), infinity war spoilers, 1.9k Fixing Avengers: Infinity War. ✦ How ya been, Buck? by dvorahbee, steve/bucky, NSFW, infinity war spoilers, 2.3k A fix-it for Bucky and Steve’s reunion because I wasn’t too happy with that half-assed reunion we had. ✦ hold some dirt with those hands by magdaliny, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 3k It had sent him to his knees. ✦ To Never Have Loved At All by hitlikehammers, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 2.8k Steve will say they had work to do, and a universe to put to rights. They had people to find and hearts to unbreak. They had a mission. There was no time for any of them to mourn. Steve, as it turns out, says a lot of things that are mostly bullshit.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY GEN FIC RECS: ✦ This, You Protect by owlet, steve & bucky & everyone else, humor, 64.3k The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect ✦ By Choice or By Habit by Sholio, steve & bucky & natasha & clint & tony, 6.4k He is useful. He holds onto that. He is useful and a useful tool will not be thrown away. (For illumynare’s request: How about something with Bucky realizing the Avengers actually think of him as a person? And off I went to the utterly shameless h/c place.) ✦ 5 (+1) Times Bucky Was Already a Supersoldier by chaya, steve & bucky, 1k Erskine made it plain for Steve - the serum makes you stronger, faster, harder to kill, and it amplifies your existing qualities. Barnes, though, didn’t get any such heads up. ✦ Thaw by danveresque, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 7.5k The Winter Soldier tries to find Bucky Barnes. ✦ Brothers In Arms by copperbadge, steve & bucky & sam & sam & tony & pepper & clint + background tony/pepper, 11.4k Bucky Barnes gets a tune-up, a new pet, and a home. ✦ You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter, bucky & avengers, fluff, 4.5k Bucky saved a tiny dinosaur and took her home to Avengers Tower and on the way remembered how to laugh and sleep in soft beds. ✦ Strawberries in Wintertime by Sholio, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & sharon, 3.2k Or, how Sam’s apartment turns into a hangout for superheroes, spies, and rogue assassins. ✦ This Lonely Hour Before Daybreak by cheesethesecond, steve & bucky + sam + natasha, 2.9k Steve knew there would be good days and bad days. That’s how this sort of thing worked. Except sometimes, the bad days go like this.

✦ Almond, Clavicle, Orchid by kvikindi, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 4.5k You say, “I don’t know what I am.” “It’s okay not to know,” Steve tells you. His face is very careful. But you know. You know that it’s not okay. ✦ you can’t fly on dinosaurs, bucky by scorpionbythesea, steve & bucky & clint, humor, 1.2k Based off the tumblr post by embracingthemadness and the tag that followed: steve and bucky making up random stories from their past and convincing the other avengers that it actually happened (◡‿◡✿) #there’s no way you guys fought nazi dinosaurs ✦ Fly on the Wings of Love by Omnicat, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & tony & clint + some background pairings, domesticity, 13.2k The Wings: Bucky just wants to show his appreciation for everything Sam has done for Steve. Of course, Tony Stark’s middle name is ‘needlessly difficult’. The Love: Bucky tries to set Natasha up with Sam. He’s a bit late for that party, but he managed to find Steve’s shield and replace Sam’s wings: he’ll come up with something for her. ✦ Swap by sparkles_stars, steve & bucky + avengers, body swap, 1.2k Steve and Bucky switch bodies. Nothing of substance happens from that moment on. ✦ Escape by Sholio, steve & bucky, 2.4k Missing scene for Captain America: The First Avenger – freeing the prisoners was just the start of getting away. ✦ think of it as personality dialysis by KiaraSayre, bucky & darcy, humor, 1.4k “I strangled someone with a shoelace once,” Barnes says. “Does that count as expressing myself through clothes?” “Uh, no.”

✦ Name, Rank, and Serial Number by forthegreatergood, steve & bucky + other marvel characters, 1.5k A Nazi peeling off his skin and declaring himself beyond human doesn’t even get a rise out of him anymore, but Bucky doesn’t think he could stand it if Steve ripped off his face, too. ✦ The Dawn of That Last Great Day by ignipes, steve & bucky + avengers + minor pairing references, the winter soldier speculation fic, 13.8k The Winter Soldier has a mission: kill Captain America. ✦ All The Leaves Are Brown (And the sky is gray) by AvocadoLove, bucky & tony + some tony/pepper + very mildly implied steve/bucky, 17.4k The Winter Soldier's mission is nearly complete. Howard and Maria Stark are dead, leaving him to dispatch their four-year-old child. One quick twist of the neck is all it will take, but the Soldier finds he cannot do it. So instead of killing Tony Stark, the Winter Soldier takes him away to raise as his own.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ so this is how it is by sciencemyfiction, steve & bucky & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ptsd, 29.1k Following the events of the Winter Soldier film, Steve and Sam finally find Bucky, and work to get back to a good place. ✦ On Your Left by TravelingRoses, steve & bucky & natasha & sam & tony thor & fury peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 12.9k Five times someone told Steve to give up looking for Bucky and two times someone didn’t. Alternately, five times someone smacked Steve on the head and said “Don’t do the thing” and he continued doing the thing and two times he listened so he could keep doing the thing. ✦ and i have fought (in flesh and blood) by ChristinasInferno, steve & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.1k “He is Bucky Barnes and his best friend is Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers is Captain America.” Bucky, post-Winter Soldier. ✦ The Care and Feeding of Traumatized Ex-Assassins by Sholio, steve & bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k Steve starts to notice someone’s been in his apartment while he’s not there. Set after Winter Soldier; spoilers. ✦ Glass of Milk by Lauralot, bucky & avengers, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k In which in the Winter Soldier is in the care of the Avengers. He has yet to regain his memories, but he has developed a fondness for dairy products.

#lumi.txt #marvel #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #fic recs #marvel fic recs #captain america fic recs #stucky fic recs

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