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simpjaes · 9 months ago

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HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later.

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up.

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!!

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show? What’s not to love about it?

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire.

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work.

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage.

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers?

You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard.

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance.

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status.

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage.

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday.

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money.

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see.

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it.

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does.

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center.

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits.

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time.

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves.

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you.

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass.

“Jake, again?”

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though.

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe.

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.”

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out.

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays.

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good.

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity.

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even.

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others.

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?”

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him.

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him.

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.”

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with.

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him.

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips.

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body.

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it.

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?”

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night.

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule.

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap.

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has.

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face.

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?”

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him.

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him.

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper.

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you.

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free.

The game is on now though, it seems, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out.

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile.

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours.

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?”

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it.

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him.

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win.

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him.

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?”

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin.

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?”

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you.

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks.

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked.

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it.

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special.

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching.

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined.

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him.

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him.

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment.

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick.

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you.

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out.

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in.

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric.

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice.

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags.

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face.

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now.

You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture.

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him.

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker.

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.”

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back.

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing.

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls.

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak.

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you.

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway.

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked.

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it.

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again.

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping.

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.”

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this.

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you. He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do.

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you.

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held.

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely?

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.”

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch.

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door.

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob.

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #jay park smut #enha smut

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the-angst-chronicles-fanworks · 11 months ago

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Steve likes to take dates to the carnivals and he always tries to win them stuffed toys because he’s cheesy and romantic and proud of it thank you very much

Only, he’s absolute ass at the carnival games. He’s only ever managed to win an ugly little cap, and Tiffany had not been amused when he’d presented it to her. It never stopped him from trying of course, but it’s a little discouraging

Fast forward to now, when he’s recruited by Claudia Henderson to drag the party out to the carnival. Robin refuses to join him because “I finally have a date Steve, I’m not going to spend it chaperoning your walking headaches”. So he recruited Eddie

Of course, the party doing want to be chaperoned and they’re really old enough to go to a carnival by themselves, so he agrees to let them go off by themselves as long as they stay out of trouble.

So he and Eddie go on a few rides and grab a bite to eat, and Eddie eats like three ice cream cones and feels too queasy for more rides. So Steve decides to practice carnival games so he can win something for the next babe he brings on a date.

With Eddie cheering him on as obnoxiously and flirtatiously as he can, Steve starts playing. And he starts winning. Not just the little prizes either. Along with normal sized stuffed bears and bats and what-have-yous, he also gets a comically large stuffed rainbow unicorn wearing sunglasses, a long dragon plushie that’s taller than he is, and other oversized paraphernalia

Since he isn’t here with a date, Steve just gives all his winnings to Eddie. Eddie jokes about how this was the most romantic date he’s ever been on (only it’s not really a joke, this not-date is more romantic than any of his trysts). Then Eddie starts complaining that Steve needs to stop winning because how is he supposed to carry all this? By the time they meet up with the kids, Eddie isn’t even visible behind the mass of prizes in his arms. He stumbles over, guided by Steve’s hand in his back, wrapped in the giant dragon, and the kids mock the both of them ruthlessly

Eddie keeps all the toys and names then after the party just to bug them. Steve delighted with that, and together they always tease the kids (“wooow, rainbow unicorn Dustin would never do this” is a favourite because it makes Dustin apoplectic)

When they start dating, Eddie keeps telling people that Steve “gave me 6 kids before finally putting a ring on it”

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #prompts #ficlets #This ended up more rambling than expected

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loveshotzz · 10 months ago

Text

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter one -

Late arrivals and big asks

A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.

wc: 10.1k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.

Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.

Robin.

Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”

The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.

“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”

Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.

Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.

“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.

“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.

“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”

There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.

“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”

He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.

“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.

“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.

“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”

Your best friend scoffs at you.

“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.

“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.

“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.

It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”

It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.

“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.

See Steve Harrington again.

I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’

You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.

“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.

“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.

She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.

“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”

“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.

“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”

The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.

“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.

It’s just a summer, right?

The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.

Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.

“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.

“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.

“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.

Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.

Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.

“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.

Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.

Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.

His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.

“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.

“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.

Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.

God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.

The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.

His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.

His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.

Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?

“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“

Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.

You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.

Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.

“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”

“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.

“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.

“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”

His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.

“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”

It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.

“I’m here for the summer.”

Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.

“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.

“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair

“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.

“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”

She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”

“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”

“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.

It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.

“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.

“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.

A whole summer? Fuck.

“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”

You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.

“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.

“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously–

“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.

“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.

Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.

“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.

You know how this game works.

“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.

“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.

“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.

“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.

“Robin!”

“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.

“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”

“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.

Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”

“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”

“Cheers!”

You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”

She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”

“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.

There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.

With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.

“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.

An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.

“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.

You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.

“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”

“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.

“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”

“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.

“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.

You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.

Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.

You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.

“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“

“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”

“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.

His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.

Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.

“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.

“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.

“Does she know that?”

“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.

So you scoot back.

“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.

“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”

“Robin!”

“What?!”

She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.

“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.

Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.

It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.

“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.

The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.

“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.

‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.

“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”

Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.

“I am twenty-four and single.”

Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.

“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”

“No -“

“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.

“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.

“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.

“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.

Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.

“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.

“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.

“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.

“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“

“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.

He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.

“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.

You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.

“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.

You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.

“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.

“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.

You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.

“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.

“You really broke my heart, you know that?”

Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.

He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.

“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”

Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.

Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.

“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.

“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.

I’m just tutoring him.

That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.

It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.

The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.

“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.

“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.

“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.

A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.

“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.

“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.

Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.

It was Pity.

Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.

“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.

“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”

“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.

“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.

“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.

Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.

“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”

Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.

Ibuprofen first, then your car.

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.

“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.

He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.

“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,

“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”

beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean

🌻 chapter two

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n

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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 15: Size kink with YunGi

Trigger warnings:

Content warnings: names (honey, sweetheart, baby, tiny, little one), oral (f receiving), fingering, size kink (it’s in the name babes), the boys kiss a couple times and talk to each other about mc as if she isn’t there

Summary: Your two best friends finally drum up the courage to ask if they can fulfill your fantasy.

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“But you get what I’m saying, right?” Your eyebrows were raised so high that if you attempted to lift them any further they might merge with your hairline. You were defending yourself against their teasing after you once again began to drone on and on about the wonders of large men and how perfect the world felt when one was taking care of you. “Like large, warm men are just ideal. I love it when a man makes me feel tiny, regardless of his actual stature, but big guys are the fucking dream.”

“So are you saying we’re every girl’s wet dream? Or just yours?” Yunho quirked an eyebrow at you and your face dropped, suddenly embarrassed about where your rambling had gotten you. Of course, they were every girl’s wet dream - especially yours - but you hadn’t meant to admit that.

“Are we ideal, y/n? Half a foot taller than you, moderately attractive, physically fit…”

Moderately attractive? Mingi, come on now. Moderately attractive is an insult to both of you. You’re both fucking hot… You realized you’d been staring between them without so much as blinking and quickly shook your head, turning back to the tv and pressing play. “You know what I meant…” You mumbled, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Right, right, sorry…” Yunho conceded, standing from his place beside Mingi on the sofa. “I’m gonna go grab a beer. Want anything?” You both shook your heads no and Yunho left to retrieve his drink. Mingi watched him go, giving a subtle nod as he exited the room before turning his attention back to you.

“Between you and me, he’s ideal, right?” He asked quietly as he scooted the tiniest bit closer to you, leaning down in an attempt to appear secretive. “He’s tall and pretty. He has really nice hands and he’s a great cuddler and he’s so fucking warm…you’re into that so surely you can appreciate the masterpiece that is Jeong Yunho, right?” His voice dipped lower and you just barely managed to contain the shiver his tone prompted, placing the remote on the coffee table and settling back in.

“Stop, he’s gonna hear…”

“So I’m right then.”

“I didn’t say-”

“You didn’t disagree with anything I said, even refusing to answer so you wouldn’t incriminate yourself. I’m right and we both know it.” He rolled his eyes, leaning in so he was only a few inches away from you.

“What are you right about?” You startled slightly as Yunho dropped down beside you, beer in hand.

“Nothing. He-”

“That she thinks you’re hot.” You all went quiet for a moment, your cheeks flushing crimson as you waited for Yunho to speak up.

“Is that so?” He sounded amused as he settled in, draping his arm behind you on the sofa.

“Mhm. I asked her when you left and she didn’t even try to deny anything, just told me to be quiet so you wouldn’t hear.” Mingi hummed. Fucking traitor.

“How cute.” Yunho teased, leaning a bit closer. “Your face is all red, honey, are you okay?”

“Yeah ‘m fine…” You mumbled, eyes still trained on the tv. The condescension in his tone made your gut twist in excitement and you tried not to let it show but they both noticed the way you pressed your thighs together.

“You sure about that?” His knuckles brushed against your jaw and you swallowed hard as his long fingers tucked your hair behind your ear. “You look like you’re struggling, sweetheart.”

“Like you need a couple of big, warm men to take care of you.” Mingi added, using your previous statement to his advantage as he caressed your neck with his knuckles. You closed your eyes as you took what was intended to be a steadying breath, which quickly became shaky when you felt hot breath on either side of your neck.

“I should’ve kept my mouth shut…” You muttered and they both chuckled softly before Yunho backed off. You could almost breathe again when he tipped your head back with just his index finger, forcing you to rest your head on his arm.

“Maybe you should’ve. But you didn’t and now we know you definitely had us in mind when you were going on about how much you love large guys.” Yunho’s voice was deeper than usual and almost raspy now as he gently gripped your chin between his first finger and thumb, turning your face towards him. “Look at me.”

You didn’t want to. You were afraid of what you might find if you did. What if they were just toying with you and were going to walk away as if nothing ever happened after confirming their suspicions? You knew they weren’t cruel like that but the fear was still there. After a few moments of silence, during which his thumb swiped back and forth across your chin, you finally opened your eyes and looked up at him.

“Do you want us to stop? Because we will if that’s what you want.” You didn’t. You definitely didn’t want them to stop. But you were embarrassed, almost ashamed to admit how much time you’d spent thinking about this moment, thinking about them. “Y/n.” He pulled you from your thoughts and you blinked up at him. “Do you want us to stop?”

You slowly shook your head and sucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched his expression grow more relaxed. He’d been so concerned that they were crossing the line but he was filled with renewed confidence at your response. He gently pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb and his eyelids grew heavy as he leaned in.

You gasped quietly when you felt Mingi’s lips on your neck but Yunho was quick to drink up the sound, pressing his lips to yours. His hand dropped from your chin and moved to grab Mingi’s hand from his lap, urging him to touch you. You let out a soft whimper when their hands slipped under your shirt and both of them responded with low groans as their hands moved higher. Mingi’s teeth scraped against your neck as he tugged your bra down and you pushed into his hand, head spinning when Yunho licked into your mouth.

Your hands, which had initially become fists at your sides, unfurled and reached for either of them. You ghosted your fingertips over their thighs and took note of the way Mingi shifted closer to you in the hopes that you’d touch his dick. Yunho seemed to have a little bit more control than Mingi, barely reacting when you gently squeezed his thigh. But when you did finally press your palms flat to their laps, Yunho’s lips left yours as he let out a soft curse. Mingi groaned and pushed upwards into your touch but Yunho grabbed your wrist to stop you. Your disapproval was obvious as you whined in protest but Yunho quickly silenced you.

“Your room or mine?” His question was directed at Mingi, who pulled back and looked down at you with a dazed expression.

“Yours.” Without another word, Yunho stood and you had to fight the sudden urge to spring forwards and start mouthing at the tent in his flannel pajama pants. Mingi stood with him and you looked up at both of them, trying your hardest not to stare at their dicks. Yunho seemed to notice your struggle and chuckled softly.

“Poor thing wants us so bad, Mingi. Look at her.” You wanted to pout but the whole thing was too hot. “You can stare all you want, sweetheart. You can even touch if you’d like.” He finally addressed you and you shivered. You certainly did want to touch them but you refrained, standing with them. You were entirely too thrilled at the way they loomed over you.

Mingi didn’t say a word as he ushered you towards Yunho’s bedroom, his large hand on your lower back as you walked with the two of them. His jaw ticked as Yunho closed the door behind you and for a moment you wondered if he actually wanted this. Then he turned to you and pulled you against him, capturing your lips in a demanding kiss, and you realized he was more than a little excited to be there.

You craned your neck to kiss back and placed your hands on his shoulders, trying not to get too far ahead of yourself. You felt Yunho step behind you and shivered when his large hands came into contact with your hips. Being caught in between them was dizzying and you didn’t know if you’d be able to exist in the same space as them without combusting after everything was said and done.

Yunho’s hands slipped between you and Mingi and he cupped you through your flannel pants that matched his own. Mingi’s lips began to trail down your neck and you allowed yourself to get a bit louder as they worked you up. You finally let out a desperate whine and pushed into Yunho’s touch, opening your mouth to beg for more only to be cut off. “You want us to fuck you, tiny?” You nodded quickly at Mingi’s question as he pulled back from your neck to tower over you. God he was so tall…

“Tiny? That’s-” You responded to the name before Yunho could finish, looking over your shoulder at him expectantly. “I was gonna say that was a cute name but the way you whipped around to look at me as soon as I repeated it has me thinking cute isn’t the right word.” He let out a huff of laughter and started to pull back, hands catching the hem of your shirt and lifting it. “Can I take this off?” You nodded again and a moment later you were topless.

Mingi didn’t bother asking before unclasping your bra, dropping it on the floor once he had it off. “Fuck…” He groaned, leaning down to take your nipple in his mouth. You’d known for years that he appreciated a nice set of tits and you’d caught him staring at yours before but never brought it up because it didn’t seem that important. Now you were starting to wonder if there’d been more to it or not because the way he took in as much as he could, sucking before pulling off with a pop, a string of spit connecting you to his mouth…well it was clear he’d spent time thinking about the best course of action if he ever got the chance to play with your tits.

Yunho chuckled at Mingi’s neediness and pulled you closer to him, his erection pressing against the small of your back as you rested your head against the front of his shoulder. “You want her that bad?” He teased, earning a glare as Mingi righted himself. “I guess I can be nice and let you have her first.”

“What, don’t wanna try eating her out together?” Mingi challenged with a grin. Your cheeks went a soft pink as they spoke about you as if you weren’t there.

“Now there’s an idea. What do you think, sweetheart? Want us to take turns tasting that pretty pussy?” Yunho hummed as his hands moved from your hips to your bare belly. Your panties were already sticking uncomfortably to your folds but the way he asked his question made you soak clean through them.

“Please…” You nodded eagerly, annoyed at how desperate you sounded. They started to pull away and you grabbed them by the wrists, looking between them. “Can…can I touch you both first?” You wanted, needed to at least feel their skin under your touch before they each had one of your legs slung over their shoulders.

“Of course, honey.” Yunho cooed.

“Anything our sweet girl wants.” Mingi added as Yunho leaned down and pecked your shoulder.

You looked up at Mingi for a moment before reaching for him. Your hands slipped under the hem of his shirt and gently gripped just above his hips. Your thumbs swiped back and forth, taking in the way his skin burned under your touch, and you finally looked up at him. He looked ready to devour you but didn’t move an inch as you took him in.

Finally, you allowed your hands to move higher, taking his shirt with them. You carefully pulled it over his head a moment later and tossed it aside before allowing your palms to press against his firm chest. He wasn’t built but he was beautifully toned and your mouth was running dry as your fingers danced over his skin. Your hands looked so small against his chest it was almost comical.

You shuddered at the realization of just how small you were compared to them and leaned forwards to press a series of soft kisses to his chest as your hands slid lower. Your nails lightly scraped against his stomach before you hooked your fingers in his waistband and his breath hitched as he tipped his head back. He allowed you to push his matching pajama pants down but stopped you when you reached for his boxers, urging you to simply tease him instead of stripping him.

You wanted to slip your hand inside his underwear but refrained, knowing if you started touching him then you wouldn’t stop. Instead, you toyed with him through the thin cotton, running your fingertips along the outline of his length and allowing your tongue to dart out just to say you’d finally gotten a taste of him. He let out a low groan and was about to haul you off to the bed when Yunho grabbed your hips and pulled your ass against him.

“Don’t you think it’s fair that we both get some attention, sweetheart?” You didn’t get a chance to respond before they worked together to spin you around. Mingi pulled you into his chest as Yunho tugged his shirt off, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around you and play with your tits again. Your mouth ran dry once more at the sight of him. He was softer than Mingi, probably the slightest bit warmer too, and had the faintest of happy trails. Your knees grew weak and you reached for him only for both of them to stop you in your tracks. “I don’t think I can wait any longer. I’ve gotta taste you.”

You whined when you were prevented from touching him but allowed them to move you to the bed, biting your lip when Yunho lifted you off the floor. “Fuck, she’s so little…” Mingi said, voice somewhere between a moan and a sigh as he watched Yunho carry you.

“So small and pliant…” Yunho sighed as he placed you on the bed. “Why don’t you move to the middle of the bed and make yourself comfortable, little one?” You whimpered at the name and quickly complied, reclining against Yunho’s fluffy pillows. Something about the way his scent surrounded you made you dizzy, made your pussy clench in excitement.

“I think she likes that one.” Mingi hummed and turned his attention to you. “You like being called that, baby?” You nodded quickly and lifted your hips when Yunho’s fingers hooked in the waistbands of both your pajama pants and your panties.

“I like when you guys make me feel small…” You murmured and pressed your thighs together when you were finally laid bare before them, somewhat nervous to show them the effect they’d had on you with only a few touches.

“So much so that you have to hide it from us?” Yunho teased as he kicked his own pants off and moved towards you. You blushed and bit your lip, keeping your eyes down.

“Come on, tiny.” Mingi joined you on the bed and placed a hand on your knee. “Can we see?”

You gave a small nod and Yunho mirrored Mingi, both of them guiding your legs apart. You had to force yourself not to squeeze your legs back together when they both let out soft curses under their breath. “She’s fucking soaked.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to take us?”

“Not together like we’d hoped.” Wait, what? Your eyes snapped to Yunho, wide with confusion.

“What, did you think we hadn’t discussed this beforehand? We’ve wanted you pretty much since we met, tiny, of course we talked about it.” Mingi’s words went straight to your pussy and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

“Then why the fuck didn’t we do this sooner? I’ve been dying to get pinned down by one or both of you for years now.”

“Is that so?” Yunho’s lips twitched up into a smirk and you nodded. “Well then we ought to take care of you right away, shouldn’t we, little one?”

“Please do.” You nodded vigorously and they both settled on their stomachs between your legs. The way they looked up at you, their eyes filled with an excitement that betrayed the laid back demeanor they were both trying to convey, made you stifle a pitiful sound.

They didn’t wait for any further instruction, they both simply wrapped an arm around your thighs and let their fingers spread you open as they dove in. You gasped and allowed yourself to sink into the pleasure, propping up on your elbows to get a better look. The sight that greeted you had your stomach twisting in excitement.

Their tongues worked fast against you, tangling with each other as they went. They were practically making out with each other right over your pussy and you felt like you might just pass away if they actually attempted to do something together while you watched. You couldn’t dream of stifling the mewls of pleasure they forced out of you as you watched helplessly.

You felt disappointment bubble up in your chest when Yunho pulled back in favor of kissing your thigh, leaving a series of gentle bites in his wake. That disappointment was quashed when Mingi closed his lips around your clit and sucked. You allowed yourself to fall back against the pillows as your back arched but that was a mistake. Looking away meant you didn’t know what was coming, though you couldn't have prepared yourself for the delicious sensation of Yunho’s long, beautiful fingers sliding into you.

They mentioned having discussed this before but how often had they talked about it? This was practiced. They worked together too well for it to have been a single conversation. Yunho’s fingers curled and pressed against your g-spot, dragging along your walls as he thrusted them into you at the same pace as Mingi’s tongue flicked over your clit. You weren’t going to last long like this.

You felt a burn spreading beneath your skin as they worked you closer to your orgasm but it was cruelly ripped away when they halted their actions. You made a distressed noise, your head shooting up off the pillows to see why they stopped. Just as your eyes focused on them, they kissed, sucking on each other’s tongues as they savored your taste. They quickly resumed, this time Yunho eating you out while Mingi’s fingers plunged into you, and your eyes rolled back. That was easily the hottest thing you’d seen all night, both of them so eager to taste you that they were willing to get even the smallest amount from each other’s mouths.

Your head spun as you relaxed against the pillows again, both hands reaching to pull their hair. The knot in your belly was growing tighter with each thrust of Mingi’s fingers, each flick of Yunho’s tongue, and you were certain you were about to fall apart. You warned them of your impending orgasm but they didn’t dare let up to draw this out any longer. No, they carried on and the pleasure steamrolled your entire body, rendering you helpless as your thighs trembled beside their heads. You let out a pathetic wail as pure bliss filled your veins, your grip on their hair tightening to the point it was painful for them, though they certainly didn’t mind. They were both into that.

They only slowed down when your moans began to border on screams and you began to try and squirm away from them. You were thankful you didn’t have to tell them it was becoming too much because you weren’t sure you could form words at the moment. Your brain was mush. You were unable to lift your head despite your desperation to watch as they kissed again, cleaning up your release with their tongues.

When you could finally move again, you lifted your head and bit your lip when you found them staring back at you. “Think you’re ready to take us, little one?”

“Cause we’re dying to feel you, tiny.”

You nodded but didn’t get a chance to speak before they were putting you in position.

<-d-14 | d-16->

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pfhwrittes · 11 months ago

Text

retail hell reader is being bothered by an uncomfortably friendly customer and tf141 handle it in their own ways.

warnings: female!reader (she/her pronouns) isn’t being overtly harassed but you know when a man is being too interested and too friendly? its that. egregious use of scots as inspired by still game, pet names “love”, “hen” and “bonnie girl” used to refer to f!reader.

word count: 1.5k

pairings: kyle garrick x reader, john mactavish x reader, simon riley x reader, john price x reader.

each reader x named character interaction should be read as a standalone but i stuck them all together as they were too short to post individually in my opinion.

- -

this customer is making you nervous as fuck. you don't think you've been inappropriate with him in any way, just polite and friendly as you sorted out his refund. the problem is that he's massive, easily taller than simon by a couple of inches and he keeps looming over you blaming his difficulty understanding english as to why he keeps getting closer and closer. he's practically mounting the customer service desk to peer down at you (and you have a horrible feeling he's trying to get a look down your polo top).

you're beginning to panic so you do the only thing you think to do (which admittedly is pretty stupid looking back on it) and make your excuses to leave the customer service desk to find one of your friends. or at least find a colleague who will act as a witness if this guy gets any creepier.

gaz handles it like a champ. as soon as he spots the creep following you around he's there. arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side at the kitchen consultant's desk. his customer service smile is fixed on his face and he refuses to even acknowledge this giant arsehole of a man, just keeps talking to you softly and shows you the kitchen he’s working on. kyle’s beautiful brown eyes only briefly leave your face so he can point out another favourite part of his design, he never once looks over at the creep. it works to soothe you, especially being so close to him. after ten minutes of being blatantly ignored, the creep walks off muttering under his breath. hopefully he’s left the store but unfortunately it’s around that time that kyle has a couple walk up to him asking him if he’s free for a drop in consultation. before he agrees he checks in with a gentle “you alright if i take this appointment, yeah? come straight back if that guy is still hanging around. i’ll deal with him.” he looks so serious you believe him. you reassure him that you’ll be fine and he gives your arm a gentle squeeze before you separate from his warmth already missing the slightly woody scent of his cologne. before you’re completely out of earshot you hear the couple cooing over how cute kyle was with you and his reply of “well, it’s not exactly hard when she’s one of my favourite colleagues…” and the fondness in his voice makes your cheeks heat up.

johnny nearly trips over you as you’re crouched behind the paint desk. “steamin’ jesus, what’re ya daein’ under there hen?” you hush him quickly and silently with a finger raised to your lips. you don’t want to speak because you know the giant is still out there looking for you, you thought you’d given him the slip near the paint brushes but then he’d rounded the end of the aisle so you darted for the relative safety of the paint desk. johnny crouches down next to you and whispers “are we hidin’ from someone? is it simon?” you shake your head and go to answer him but then your blood runs cold as you hear that familiar accented voice. “excuse me? i was wondering if you might help, i’m looking for the fräulein who was helping me?” johnny shoots a look at you and you squish yourself further into the corner of the desk hoping against hope that johnny won’t give you away. thankfully, johnny straightens up from behind the desk with his most charming customer service grin “sorry pal, i’ve no’ seen her. ‘s only me on the desk the day.” the creep sounds nonplussed at johnny’s thick glaswegian accent (you’ve certainly never heard it ramped up like that in all the times you’ve spoken with him) and a little crestfallen when he starts to reply with “oh, perhaps you’d be good enough to -” johnny interrupts him, voice still pitched in a friendly manner but you can hear an undercurrent of tension “naw, sorry pal. i’m busy pitin’ the hems oan the tins. is there anythin’ i can dae fer ye mixin’ wise?” there’s a moment of silence and you watch johnny’s smile slowly slip off his face, his lips thinning into a stern line. “ah, um. no thank you. perhaps she will find me.” the creep sounds a little nervous now if the uncomfortable laugh he lets out is any indication. “aye right. well i’d best be lettin’ you get oan then eh?” johnny shifts on his feet slightly so his calf brushes up against your arm. after another tense moment you hear the lumbering footsteps of the giant move away from the desk. johnny looks down at you with a mischievous grin, “i’ve got to say bonnie girl, you look a right sight down there.” you only feel a little bit bad when you punch him lightly in the leg and he yelps in shock as the blush on your cheeks spreads down your neck.

simon is less than impressed when you duck under the chain across the warehouse doors and flatten yourself against the noticeboard out of view from the shop floor. “you stupid? chains up which means the forklift is out so you need to be too.” he’s pissed off and thinking about how much paperwork he’ll have to fill out now because you didn’t bother to think about the cameras in your dash for safety. he takes a big step towards you before swerving off to the side to block the customer that has just appeared at the chain. “the fuck do you want?” he practically snarls. ‘this isn’t the fucking caff.” simon squares his shoulders and glares at the oversized dickhead that’s wasting his time. “well? can’t you fuckin’ read? staff access only. and you’re not staff so fuck off.” simon barks at the man, not letting him get a word in edgewise to start bitching about stock or whatever it is that he wants. simon couldn’t give a shit, he just wants the customer (and you) to fuck off promptly so he can start moving pallettes around. the customer just blinks and takes several steps back before turning away. you let out a shaky sigh and thank simon quietly. simon hums in acknowledgement and sweeps a critical eye down your lightly trembling form. “he botherin’ ya?” at your nod he hums again before jerking his head towards the back of the warehouse “go put a hi-vis on and sit in the office, i’ll come get you when i’m done on the ‘lift.”. when simon comes back into the office two paper cups of tea in hand thirty minutes later, you offer him a small smile and catch his lips twitch up briefly before he turns away to plunk his cup down on top of a cluttered filing cabinet.

price practically walks into you as you come flying around the end of the plumbing aisle. it’s unusual to see you so far away from the customer service desk and looking so flustered. “alright, love?” his hand is on your elbow as he asks. you crane your neck round to look behind you, too worried about that customer to enjoy his large warm hand on your bare skin. price straightens up and drops his hand away from you when he spots a customer behind you, in his opinion the customer is moving a little too fast to be considered casual. price bristles slightly when he catches the dark look on the gentleman’s face. oh no, he doesn’t like the look of this one at all. especially when you look at price and mouth “help” quickly. price steps forward and puts you at his back, blocking the creep from getting any closer. “can i help you, mate?” his gruff voice is just shy of sounding friendly and you watch his back muscles shift under the black polo top he’s wearing. “no thank you, i wanted to speak with the little woman some more.” god the customer is weird, you shudder a little at being referred to as a “little woman”. price shifts to block the customer’s view of you more fully as he does you notice the back of price’s neck has gone a little red. “not possible. i need her for a job.” price’s words sound like they’re being ground out through gritted teeth in response. “i’m sure simon would be more than willing to help you.” you jolt a little when you spot simon at the customer’s shoulder. a man shouldn’t be able to move so silently in steel toed safety boots. you catch a brief wince flicker across the customer’s face when simon’s hand comes down on his shoulder, slightly too hard to be entirely polite. “ah, um, yes. perhaps that’s for the best.” simon leads the customer away and you step up beside price to thank him. he looks deadly serious when he turns to face you “any time love.” his stern blue stare softens slightly and you’re sure you catch his gaze flicker to your mouth briefly before he clears his throat and turns away “c’mon then. back to the returns desk with you.”.

- -

AN: i have very much hidden from customers in the warehouse and behind the paint desk at B&Q. don’t be like reader (or me) and hide in the goods-in area, you will get shouted at for it.

translation for johnny’s scots: “pitin’ the hems oan” = putting the hems on, meaning to put something in order or to restrain something/someone.

#retail hell au #kyle garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #f!reader #female reader #kg #jm #sr #jp #also i'm not saying that the creepy customer is that giant austrian cod guy but i'm not saying that he isn't *wink wonk*#everyone say thank you to early for bringing back my love of retail hell au

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coco-loco-nut · 5 months ago

Text

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: not all best friends are lovers.

masterlist ttpd masterlist

_______

Logan has been your best friend since you were in elementary school, and even when he moved away to further his career, you stayed close friends. Logan even sublets a bedroom in your Miami apartment so he stay with you when he’s in town.

It was obvious how much Logan cares for his friends, and maybe that’s why you couldn’t stop yourself from falling in love with your kindhearted friend. Oscar always said that the two of them needed you to be social for them, and that they should hire you to be their social media managers. You always refused, asking what an accountant would know about that.

It’s the off season now, and Logan is back home. The cozy apartment feels more like a home now, and the navy blue throw pillows don’t bring down the vibes as much anymore. You are on the phone with Oscar and Lily when you hear the front door open and close, two people stumbling in.

“You need to tell him, you are only hurting yourself,” Oscar says, reading your body language, watching the way that the blue LEDs in your bedroom reflect the sadness in your eyes.

“I’m okay, I have a date tomorrow,” you plaster a smile on your face. Lily doesn’t buy it, and neither does Oscar, but they play along.

“Keep us updated, that’s so exciting,” she says, hoping to take your mind off of what’s happening across the hall.

“Good night?” you ask Logan when he emerges from his room the next morning. The hurt in your heart pushes through the freeze that creeps in, a lingering hurt from one drunken night years ago.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry,” Logan runs his hand through his hair, you look away because despite him being your best friend you just can’t bear to see him. Despite everything, you can’t help stop the growing ice over your heart towards him.

It’s like every day you realize how much you have changed yourself for him, only for him to not care. He’s too addicted to the drug that is his current lifestyle to care about his best friend. The past ten years have been like this, and in your mind it was time to put yourself first.

Logan doesn’t notice your red dress, with your hair and makeup done perfectly, and if he did he never said. He did see you out on your date by accident though. He stops on the sidewalk, staring at you through the window. He calls Oscar on reflex, holding the phone to his ear without looking away from you.

“Osc, Y/n is on a date,” Logan says, processing what he is feeling.

“A likely place for her to be. She has a life outside of you, just because we are your best friends doesn’t mean she needs to dedicate every second to you like she has in the past,” Oscar replies, a little tired of Logan basically ignoring you.

“That’s not true,” Logan protests, but the hurt he’s feeling says otherwise.

“She’s changed so much for you. She wanted to move to Canada, but stayed for you. She’s defended you online against people who still say you don’t deserve to drive, hell, she’s stopped dating a guy because you were coming home. You have this idea of her that just isn’t true anymore,” Oscar rants, every word like a punch to the gut. Logan will always need his best friend, but he is realizing the truth behind Oscar’s words.

“This guy looks like he would’ve bullied us in school,” Logan watches as you laugh at something the guy says, and as much as he hates to admit it, you look happier than you have since he’s gotten home. Said guy is tall, taller than him, with the body of a gym bro but polished enough that he seems well educated.

“Good for her, she deserves to be happy, I’ll have to call her tomorrow and ask about it. Lily will want to know too,” Oscar’s tone changes, clearly happy to move away from being a middle man.

“You knew?” Logan asks, wondering why you didn’t say anything.

“Have you thought to ask? You live with her. Surely you noticed she was dressed up,” Oscar questions. Logan just watches you with someone else, not understanding why his heart hurts.

Logan thinks back to every time you changed, it was always related to something he said, and when it raised concerns in his mind, he simply brushed it off, not until you started being cold. You would’ve stopped, you wouldn’t have started to push him away if he said he loved you the way that you were, even as a friend.

Logan can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the guy sitting across from you, your coldness broken away. Little did he know that the thought would shatter you if you knew, like ice breaking into millions of pieces.

Logan looks away, noticing you have that look in your eye, the same one from your belated 21st birthday. Sighing as he walks down the street, he plays back that night, traveling through the passages in his mind to find the memory.

You had drunkenly stumbled into him, impaired by the copious amounts of alcohol and newfound freedom. The next the both of you knew, you were in his bed, wrapped up in one another. Logan called it a mistake and you moved on, not wanting to dwell on it, lest you get hurt.

Logan goes back to your apartment, waiting for you to get home. He doesn’t know why he hates the idea of you being out with another guy, maybe it’s because you are his friend. He perks up at the sound of the front door opening, watching you walk in with a cheerful glint in your eye. He lets out a deep sigh before plastering on a smile.

“How was the date?” Logan asks as you sit on the couch across from him.

“I didn’t realize you noticed,” you warily say, confused why he is asking.

“I saw you at the restaurant you were at and Oscar told me,” Logan says slightly accusingly and you can’t help but shake an irritated feeling.

“Well, maybe if you cared more about my life and not just me as your socials manager, than you would’ve known,” you defend yourself. Logan feels a bit like a kicked puppy, especially since your words are true. “I’m going to bed, we can talk about it tomorrow,” you turn away, heading to your room.

The next morning comes faster than you’d like. Logan wakes early to get coffee and pastries, hoping to ease the tension.

“I can’t be your social media manager anymore. I need to do what I am really good at, and what I spent my time getting a degree in,” you say a little abruptly during the conversation.

“But I need you on race weekends,” Logan says, a bit crushed.

“Oscar hired me as his personal accountant, so I could still come to races, but it lets me spread my wings and start my own business,” you tell him, sipping your coffee.

“Let me hire you then too,” Logan offers and you quickly shoot him down.

“No, you struggle to separate me as a friend and me as an employee. We need to fix our friendship first,” you double down.

“I don’t understand, is everything okay?” Logan asks, his concern feels like a stab in the heart.

“I- I just need some space to focus on me. I love you, Lo, you are my best friend, but I can’t be your friend like that and also your employee. It doesn’t work well for us,” you say, lying about why. You just can’t stand to watch him take a new girl home every race weekend, and you need to crush your crush. You can’t keep wondering what would happen if he chose you.

So you do just that, in the next few months you sell your Miami apartment and move to a small beach town in New England. You and Logan are still close, but everything is different now.

Aside from the occasional paddock appearance with him or Oscar, you focused on yourself. You stood at his side while he married an influencer, you helped babysit when he had kids. You floated in his orbit, a close friend but no longer his best friend. Logan and Oscar stood by your side when you got married to the same guy you went on the date with before you left Miami.

The only thing that would’ve stopped you from getting married would be Logan’s intervention. He would object, saying he always loved you, and that he will always wonder what would have happened if you had dated. Little did you know, that the only thing stopping him from doing just that was the gold band on his ring finger and the kids sitting beside his wife.

Even now, as you lay in bed beside your husband, you can’t help but wonder what if.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #the tortured poets department

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redrose10 · 1 month ago

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hii for the prompt game thing: how about 5, 5, and 55 or 60 with Yoongi! I just love how you write Yoongi, but it's up to you if you want to change the member!

I hope this is what you were looking for! I’m so sorry if it isn’t.

< Beauty and the Frog >

CEO Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, very slightly suggestive, Yoongi is pretty mean in this one

CEO, Unrequited love

#55 “That’s not very nice.”

#60 “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

*******************************************************

You had known Yoongi since you were in elementary school. You had seen him around the building but the first time you really interacted with him was when you were partnered up together in your 8th grade biology class. You refused to dissect a frog and even after the teacher threatened you with an F and a trip to the principal’s office you stood your ground. Yoongi admired that and followed suit earning you both after school detentions. It brought you guys together and you were best friends from that moment on.

Freshman year was intense. Lots of changes and new stressful situations but you had Yoongi by your side so it made everything a little easier.

Tenth grade was better. You had gotten the hang of things and were able to navigate life. You and Yoongi were still best friends and stuck mostly to yourselves. Many rumors went around the school about you two but you always ignored them.

You were in the eleventh grade when you realized your crush on Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him for much of the summer because he went to stay with his grandparents in the countryside. When he walked into the school on the first day your mouth dropped open. He had grown a few inches taller. Most of the baby fat in his face had disappeared leaving him with a chiseled jawline. He had let his hair grow out and he seemed to have bought some new clothes with the money he had earned at his part time job. The first thing he did was walk towards you and wrap you in a hug giving you the first feeling of how much more muscular he had become while working on his grandparents farm. When he said your name his voice was considerably deeper than you remembered. You locked away your secret crush for the whole year not wanting to ruin anything between you two. The thought of loosing him forget was too much to handle.

Senior year of high school was flying by. Yoongi was captain of the basketball team. You took a position as the teams water girl after he begged you too just so guys could get to spend a little more time together. You had decided that after the final game of the season you were going to ask him to Prom. Your nerves were out of control as you waited for Yoongi to come out of the locker room but minutes and minutes went by. Every other member of the team had already left leaving you wondering what was going on. As you exited the school there were mumblings and whispers about two people hooking up in the parking lot. You felt a knot in your stomach as you walked outside only to see exactly what you had feared. Yoongi exiting the backseat of his car with his zipper down and his belt still undone and the head cheerleader following behind while still pulling her skirt back down. When Yoongi came walking over to you asking if you were ready to hit up your usual after game pizza place you declined telling him you weren’t feeling well. He offered to take you home and hang out there but you shook your head accepting a ride from Hoseok instead much to Yoongi’s disappointment. Yoongi went to prom with the cheerleader while you skipped it all together deciding to never let him know about your crush.

College was much of the same only you didn’t feel a soul crushing sense of sadness whenever Yoongi would bring a random woman back to your shared apartment. You had learned to accept it for what it was. The ones he actually dated hurt a little more than the one night stands but you got through it, even having a few romantic adventures of your own.

Graduation came and went and Yoongi started his own record label with some money he and received as an inheritance. You were so incredibly proud of him and excited to see him succeed as the CEO and Owner of his own business.

It took a few years but DTown Records slowly became one of the hottest companies in music while producing nearly every hit on the radio.

When things got too crazy Yoongi offered you a job. He wanted you to become be his Chief Operating Officer. At first you declined saying you didn’t know much about the music industry but Yoongi knew you had a degree in business and he trusted you. So eventually you gave in and became his partner.

It was a lot like the old times. The two of you spent countless hours together all the while your old crush was blossoming more and now to the point you started feeling like you loved him.

Then Yoongi introduced you to Mia, an up and coming artist he had met at some big industry event he had gone too. Immediately you didn’t like her. It wasn’t all jealousy. She just gave you bad vibes. She was a little too quick to use Yoongi’s credit card any time she wanted to purchase something. She was constantly flirting with other men when he wasn’t around. And she definitely did not like you. She had one too many glasses of wine or coffee “accidentally” spilled on you by her way more times than could happen accidentally. She was always conveniently having emergencies any time you and Yoongi tried hanging out. You also heard from Jin, Yoongi’s assistant, that one morning she was giving Yoongi reason after reason to fire you.

You tried to talk to Yoongi but he was having no part of it even going as far as you call you jealous and told you to grow up. A little crack formed in your relationship for a while until he announced his engagement to Mia. He looked so happy and so in love that you put on your best act and pretended to be happy for him even though you were devastated.

The night before the wedding you were laying in bed trying to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself to watch the love of your life marry someone else when there was a knock at your door.

Since it was 3am you were nervous to answer it until you heard Yoongi on the other side. He greeted you with red eyes and sniffles before he broke down in your arms and sobbed.

Through his distress you learned that Mia was in her suite at the hotel so that they wouldn’t see each other the night before the wedding. He had snuck over to her with flowers and a song he’d written wanting to be romantic and surprise her. Only he was the one that was surprised when he found her naked riding some wannabe rapper as she moaned his name loudly into the air. The wedding was called off and Yoongi was devastated. You did your best to comfort him while forcing yourself not tell him you told him so.

Yoongi took a few weeks off to recover so you were in charge and things went smoothly. You were excited for his return only to be horrified at what you were met with.

The once happy and full of motivation Yoongi was replaced with the shell of man who was spiteful and outright mean. His heart melting gummy smile was replaced with a nonstop scowl. He fired people left and right and talked down to his employees. He wasn’t the Yoongi you’d known all these years. His broken heart had changed him to an unrecognizable person. But you still knew deep down that the Yoongi you knew was in there so you stuck around.

Bit by bit you snipped away at the barbed wire that surround him. His favorite coffee, lunch from his favorite Thai Restaurant. Tickets to see his favorite basketball team. Your secret fresh baked cookies that he had always loved.

One morning he came into work to find a brown stuffed poodle that looked exactly like the dog he had when he was in middle school. You saw the faintest hint of a smile at that one and you thought maybe you had finally got to him but then he took the toy and stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk to be forgotten and started barking out orders to people in the office.

Then one morning Yoongi called you into his office, something he didn’t do much of any more.

“Y/N, I’m moving the headquarters for the label to LA.”, he said after you took a seat.

“Wh-What? You can’t do that.”

He scoffed, “It’s my company. I can and I am. I need to get out of this city and start new. I can’t stay here any more.”

“What about the employees here? What about me?”, you questioned.

“We’ll keep a small team here the rest we’ll have to let go and as for you…I want you to move to LA with me.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Yoongi that’s the other side of the world. I have family and friends here. My whole life is here. I can’t just pack up and move.”

“I understand Y/N. I can’t force you to go but I really want you to. I need you to come with me.”, he said barely above a whisper.

So you agreed. And within a couple weeks you were packed up and goodbyes were said and you were moved to Los Angeles. It was a difficult decision but you would do anything that Yoongi needed and/or wanted.

The company was doing incredibly well while making record profits. Things were also going great between you and Yoongi. You were closer than you had been in a while. Your feelings began blossoming fuller and fuller as time went on now that things didn’t seem so tense.

One afternoon you walked into Yoongi’s office. He was on the phone with someone so you took a seat to politely wait.

“Mmhm I’ll be there.

I know I know it’s been a while.

Yeah my flight leaves at noon.

I know babe I’m excited.”

You rolled your eyes hearing him use the pet name. He smiled when he noticed your reaction before quickly hanging up the phone.

“Going on a trip?”, you asked.

He looked nervous as he fidgeted with a pen, “Actually Y/N, that is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You nodded letting him know you were listening.

He took a deep breath, “I’m moving back to Seoul.”

“What?!”, your mouth dropped open.”

He nodded, “I’ve been talking to someone, her name is Mae. We met at the Valentino show a couple months ago. She’s a model based out of Seoul so I’m going to move back there.”

You shook your head, “Yoongi I…you can’t move back. I gave up everything. I moved all the way to the other side of the world to follow you.”

He scoffed, “I didn’t force you to move here. You came here on your own Y/N. Just move back with me.”

“Yoongi I can’t just keep moving around the world whenever you have a new fuck buddy.”

He looked offended, “Mae is not a fuck buddy. I love her.”

You could feel tears begin to form, “You don’t love her Yoongi. You love that she puts out whenever you demand it. If she loved you she would come to you, not the other way around. Like I do. I’m always here for you. I do everything for you. I love you Yoongi.“

He stared at you for what felt like forever. Finally he slammed his laptop down, “I fail to see how that is my problem.“

His coldness shocked you. He had never spoken directly to you in that way. “That’s not very nice.”, you whispered through sniffles.

Yoongi softened at the sight of you realizing just how harsh he had been. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for speaking to you that way. I’m also sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you.”, he packed up his things and headed towards the door, “I’m leaving for Seoul tomorrow. You can stay here and run this sector of the company or come back to Seoul. It’s up to you. I don’t really care.”

He walked through the door letting it close behind him.

He moved back to Seoul as he had said. Him and Mae got engaged three months later. They were married the following year and divorced by the next one.

You remained in your position as the COO through all of it, mostly because of the pay and travel perks, because your relationship with Yoongi had become strictly business after you confessed. You stayed in Seoul to run that location while he moved back to LA. It hurt for a while and it took a lot for you to move on from him.

But eventually you did.

And when Jungkook got down on one knee and proposed the first person you called was Yoongi. He didn’t answer. He never responded to the text either. He didn’t come to your engagement party. He declined the wedding invite. All you got was a generic card in the mail that you could tell had been filled out by Jin. Eventually you gave up and decided to put in your resignation because you and Jungkook were moving to New York. He didn’t contact you even then.

It wasn’t until almost three years later that you heard from him again. There was a package that arrived for you.

A card read, “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I wish you all nothing but happiness... I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one.- Min Yoongi.”

In the box was a stuffed animal. A wide smile formed on your face as you took the bright green frog with a pink bow on its head and placed it in the crib next to your sleeping daughter before joining Jungkook in the kitchen to finish up dinner.

#bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi au #ceo yoongi

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orion-archives · 28 days ago

Note

For the ask meme- all the questions for Bayverse Sentinel please

AAAAAAA–

Sorry for the late response, this took a while:

1. Canon I outright reject

I don’t think I have any. I really like how his character is.

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

He wanted to bring Cybertron not because it was his home or because he loved it like Optimus or Megatron. He wanted to bring Cybertron back because he was adored and worshiped like a god there. On Earth, while he was still a leader and well-respected by the Autobots, he wasn’t looked by humans like a god or even a king.

He was just another machine.

And he didn’t like that.

3. Obscure headcanon

He’s Megatron and Optimus’ biological dad.

4. Favorite line

“We were gods once, all of us! But here there will only be one!”

5. Best personality trait

His intelligence and how he can appear so kind when he wants (if I didn’t know better, I would trust him with my life and to gently hold me)

6. Worst personality trait

His massive ego.

7. Age/height/weight headcanon

Age: He’s older than Megatron and Optimus but not the same age as, for example, The Fallen (that mf is A N C I E N T)

Height: Taking Megatron’s canon height in consideration, I hc Sentinel is 33 feet or around 10 meters (slightly shorter than Megatron [I hc Megatron unconsciously lowers his body to appear smaller or the same height around Sentinel until he snaps] and taller than Optimus)

Weight: No idea, I suck at guessing/making weights.

8. Unpopular opinion about them

He was never in the right, he was not a hero. Just because humanity later turned against the transformers, that doesn’t mean Sentinel was in the right in trying to enslave and wipe out humanity.

Also, he isn’t a false Prime and the Matrix wouldn’t have rejected him. People say he refused it because he knew the Matrix would turn into dust because he was planning to betray the Autobots, but let’s remember the facts that:

A) It floated on his hand, so he is a true Prime.

B) The Fallen was able to not just have it float on his hand but actually TOUCH the Matrix in the second film even after all the things he did.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

Love: His talk with Optimus on the mountains/nature.

Hate: When he betrayed the Autobots, killed Ironhide, Mudflap and Skids, threatened Mearing to take her with him and force her to watch as he murdered every single human –no matter if it was a man, woman, elder or child– if he wasn’t given the pillars and almost stomped to death Sam and Lennox (mix of movie, comic and book)

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

His final fight with Optimus (and Megatron in the book)

11. Faceclaim for the role

Leonard Nimoy, his VA for Dark of the Moon.

I mean… look at him! They obviously used him as base for Sentinel’s design (I love when that happens)

12. Crack headcanon

His beard is really soft (as soft as metal can be. Soft for cybertronian standards)

13. Dumbest thing they've ever done

Attacking Megatron when he declared they would rebuild Cybertron together. Like, Sentinel, you stupid bitch, HE IS YOUR ALLY. AND HE NEVER SAID YOU WOULD WORK FOR HIM, HE SAID T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R.

If he hadn’t done that (twice in the book), Megatron probably would have never turned against him.

Dumbass.

14. Most heroic moment

Uhh…

15. Worst thing they've ever done

Trying to enslave humanity and commit massive genocide on the rest of Earth.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

Deep down, a small part of him regrets betraying Optimus and during the Chicago battle, Sentinel wished to have had Optimus on his side instead of Megatron.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

Hohoho, I actually have a few:

• Good to be King

• Babylon

• Thunder Bringer

• Crucified

18. What they'd go to see a therapist about

God complex (Optimus would have to drag him to see the therapist)

19. Vices/bad habits

There aren’t any canon ones, but I headcanon he overtrains to the point of injury. Following that, I also hc he did this with Megatron in his teenage/young adult years to prepare him to be High Protector of Cybertron once they found the Allspark.

20. Scars

None as far as I know/headcanon.

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)

High grade or normal energon but if he could, he would drink gallons of coffee in a single sitting. I just know it.

22. Best physical feature

…MaY I sPEAK (joking)

I really like his ear-things, the shape of his chest and the things he has on his back.

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

He probably smells like smoke, hot metal and burned oil, but Sentinel gives me the vibe of almonds, olive or grapes for some reason.

24. Most annoying habit

Not sure. Maybe constantly feeling his position threatened and reminding others of it (like he did with Megatron and Mearing)?

25. 3 things they'd want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere

The pillars, the Primax Blade and his rust cannon.

26. What they would do if stuck in an elevator with [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

If it’s Optimus, have a chat with him.

If it’s Megatron, try to be as far as possible from him in the elevator.

If it’s a human, step on them “““accidentally”””

27. Their guilty pleasure

I’m gonna take a guess and say walking through Earth’s landscapes.

28. How they feel about [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

Optimus: “My favorite, brave, almost perfect, a great cybertronian, my heir… but too soft and not willing in taking difficult decisions”

Megatron: “Good war machine, a firm believer of my words yet I don’t like the rest of him and feel ashamed how he ended up”

Or at least that's how I see it.

29. Eating habits (hc)

Fairly normal, but I headcanon he has a sweet tooth and enjoys cybertronians treats.

30. Sleeping habits (hc)

Terrible. He’s the type of person that will sleep a 10 minute nap and call it enough, though he will recharge at one point for a long period of time when his body can no longer keep up. Then, the cycle repeats.

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like?

Idk :(

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Spending time with his favorite son, Optimus, a compliment from anyone, any show of respect/devotion to him.

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry

…

34. How they react when they are feeling X emotion (sad, angry, excited, scared, etc.— can specify as many as you like)

Oh, yes, headcanon time!

• Happy: Smiling, ears up, chest puffed.

• Angry: Frowning, ears pinned (the more low they are, the more angry he is), teeth clenched, narrowing eyes, standing straight to full height, the cylinders in his chest roll slowly.

• Excited: Ears twitch, eyebrows lifted, cylinders roll quickly.

• Sad: Ears dropped, eyebrows downwards, eyes shine is dimmer, shoulders go down.

• Scared: Ears can be slightly pinned (danger is visible) or fully erect (sensing danger), pupils shrink, body is tense, cylinders roll quickly.

• Flirty/playful: Ears twitch or point in different directions (one can be lower than the other one), one eyebrow lifted, confident smile.

35. Their idea of a perfect day

On Cybertron, a sunny day without problems, walk around, get a few compliments/bows, chat with Optimus, drink some high grade energon and enjoy the sunset.

36. Their favorite season

I think it would be summer. After living for who knows how long in darkness on Cybertron, I think Sentinel would enjoy summer and the longer days it brings along the warmth.

37. What they really think about themselves

They are above everyone and everything else since creation.

38. Favorite holiday

He doesn’t have one.

39. Favorite game

AmOnG uS (I’m kidding, he’s a boomer)

Cybertronian equivalent of chess, maybe?

40. Favorite book

I don’t know.

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be?

Primus.

42. 3 comfort items

Uh…

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise

UHH…

44. Their happiest memory

Restoring Cybertron by finding the Allspark and becoming ruler of the planet.

45. Their favorite celebrity

Primus (does God count as a celebrity–)

46. The person they most admire

Primus.

47. Their dream job

Being a Prime (he already is)

48. Scariest moment of their life

When Starscream shot down the Ark when he was escaping with the pillars to meet with Megatron.

49. Favorite toy as a child

I don’t know…

50. A memory they've blocked out

He remembers raising Optimus and telling him stories about greatness and the legends of the Primes and the Allspark… but he has long forgotten also raising Megatron with the same tales (half headcanon, half canon)

Ask game here!

#transformers #bayformers #transformers bayverse #sentinel prime #bayverse sentinel prime #tf sentinel prime #ask game

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in1-nutshell · 8 months ago

Text

Bulkhead's daughter with the opposite personality

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy was a sparkling that would usually come around the construction sites to play around or look around for scraps.

Like Bulkhead, there were many bots that did have an optic out for the little one especially with the heavy machinery around.

He was not particularly fond of the kid being around.

Not because he didn’t like them, on the contrary.

He was quite fond of the kid.

She was a little genius and a nice bot.

Sure, they were a bit cold at first, but she was just a bit of a shy bot.

“Have you met Buddy?”--Bulkhead

Bulkhead shows Buddy to one of the new recruits,

Buddy just stares right into their optics.

“D-does she do that all the time? She looks like she’s going to rip my helm off.”—Random bot

“Buddy wouldn’t do that. She’s just a bit shy. Isn’t that right Buddy?”--Bulkhead

Buddy stares harder at the bot.

“…”—Random bot

“…Anyways, here is where the heavy machinery is placed.”--Bulkhead

When the team had to use some of the older equipment, she made sure to look at it before everyone else did, deeming which ones were safer to use than others.

How did she manage to sneak into the equipment shed before they did?

No one knows and she isn’t telling.

The kid slowly opens to the others.

But she never opened up about her living status or where were her guardians, they just knew they were never at home.

Bulkhead promised himself to look after the kid a bit more after that.

“Hey Buddy, did you fuel yet?”--Bulkhead

“Not yet, I still have to finish repairing Breakdown’s hammer, the blasted thing got cracked again… stinking Senate and their refusal for getting better equipment…”--Buddy

Bulkhead puts a servo on her shoulder.

“Let’s take a break. We refuel, maybe a walk around the site and then we come back to the hammer. I’m sure Breakdown wouldn’t mind.”--Bulkhead

Buddy looks at the hammer then at Bulkhead.

She abruptly stands up and grabs Bulkhead’s servo marching the fueling station.

Bulkhead just smiles and goes along with it.

The war breaks out soon thereafter.

Everything goes too fast for Bulkhead.

One minute he was waving bye to Buddy, the next he found himself an Autobot with the Wrecker’s.

He did his best to try and get in contact with Buddy, but he got no response.

Bulkhead doesn’t even know if she was even on the same side as him.

Breakdown running up to Bulkhead.

“Breakdown?”--Bulkhead

“You’re gonna want to see this.”--Breakdown

Both mech walk into the main room where Wheeljack was about to present someone to the rest of the Wrecker’s.

“This is our new equipment and weapons assistant of mine, Buddy.”--Wheeljack

Buddy looks around the group of taller bots until she spots Bulkhead and Breakdown.

“Bulkhead? Breakdown?”--Buddy

She fast walks to them both and hugs them.

Breakdown doesn’t get much of that first hug because Bulkhead practically scooped her up burying her in his arms.

Did her new position in the unit make Bulkhead worry?

Yes. Yes, it did.

But at the same time knew that Buddy wasn’t going to be seeing much action.

Buddy stayed mostly to herself in the workshop.

If she did go outside, she was mainly with Bulkhead, Breakdown and Wheeljack.

On the battle field…

“We need reinforcements!”--Breakdown

“We are the reinforcements!”--Wheeljack

“But we won’t last long with all this heavy fire—”--Bulkhead

The group sees a bunch of Con’s dropping at a fast rate.

The shots seemed to be coming from the bot’s side.

Wheeljack takes out some scanner and looks around.

“Did we have a sniper on the team? I don’t remember that…”--Breakdown

“Me neither.”--Bulkhead

Wheeljack’s optics widen with a smirk on his face.

“The kids really got some skills she needs to tell us.”--Wheeljack

Bulkhead turns around.

“You don’t mean—”--Bulkhead

“Look for yourselves.”--Wheeljack

Bulkhead and Breakdown take out their scanners and look where Wheeljack was looking at.

Sure enough, in a small nook, high above the ground was Buddy firing a rifle, taking out more Cons in the process.

“I don’t know how to feel about this right now…”--Bulkhead

“I do. Way to go kiddo!”—Breakdown

When Breakdown had defected, it was the same day Buddy heard that she would be moving to another department.

She didn’t want to leave everyone.

Especially Bulkhead, who had become her second father.

Bulkhead still remembered the night before she had to leave filled with tears finally getting out after a long façade of everything being okay.

Bulkhead made sure that he and Wheeljack were there to wave Buddy off.

Buddy giving her final good-bye.

“I’ll contact you guys as soon as I reach the other base.”--Buddy

“You better.”--Bulkhead

“Take care kiddo.”--Wheeljack

Wheeljack pats Buddy’s helm affectionately.

Buddy squeezes Bulkhead’s servo one more time before letting go and walking to the shuttle.

She turns around and gives one last wave.

The two Wrecker’s wave back sadly as the door shut.

The ship was off.

Wheeljack pats Bulkhead on the back.

“She’ll be fine Bulk. Buddy’s a smart one.”--Wheeljack

“Yeah… I’m gonna miss her though.”--Bulkhead

“Same Bulk, same…”--Wheeljack

A couple days later Bulkhead got a message saying that Buddy’s ship had been in the crossfires of enemy fire.

No survivors.

It tore the two Wrecker’s sparks hearing the news.

Bulkhead smashed so many things that afternoon…

Wheeljack couldn’t bear to look at Buddy’s spot in the workshop for the longest time.

Breakdown heard about the news the last time he was in combat with Bulkhead.

He had never seen the bot with so much hatred in his optics.

He yelled at him about what happened to Buddy, as if it was his fault.

Knockout remembers the somber face Breakdown had when he came back.

Meanwhile…

Buddy is not dead.

She managed to get into an escape pod before everything went Boom!

The pod landed on Earth.

There she was found by a small family.

The Fowlers.

The family decided to hide the poor scared bot and welcomed her into their family.

It was a rough adjustment, but they made it work.

Buddy in her alt mode in the garage.

The door opens.

“Mrs. Fowler? Mr. Fowler? William? What seems to be the trouble?”--Buddy

Mrs. Fowler has a bunch of blankets in her arms, Mr. Fowler has some small white machine in one arm and a sheet in the other, little William has a bowl full of popcorn and candy.

“Buddy, please, it’s Ma and Pa.”--Ma

“Okay, Ma? Pa? William? What is all this? Do you need a ride somewhere? Is there a playdate I wasn’t aware of?”--Buddy

Pa motions Buddy to move a bit.

She does move a bit to the side of the garage.

“William told us you’ve been a bit homesick lately. Missing your friends and family.”--Pa

“…Yes, just a bit…”--Buddy

“So, we decided to help that a bit.”--Ma

“How?”--Buddy

“Movie night!”--William

“Movie night? Here?”--Buddy

“You’re family to us Buddy, I think it’s about high time you join in on some of our human traditions, as a family.”--Ma

Silence…

“Buddy?”--William

“Sorry… If I was not in my alt mode right now, you’d see me crying and hugging you all.”--Buddy

William sets his popcorn and rushes to hug Buddy’s hood.

It feels warm.

The parents walk over and gently pat the alt mode.

Ma drapes a spare blanket on Buddy while the others grab their own blankets and wait for the projector to start.

Buddy made sure to protect the family with her spark.

She grew especially fond of the little boy, William.

William steps out of the house and into the garage where Buddy was in.

“William?”--Buddy

He just sits on the ground next to Buddy’s alt mode with his legs pulled close to his chest.

“…Do you want to talk about it?”--Buddy

William shakes his head.

“…You want to go out?”--Buddy

“But Ma said—”--William

“I’ll deal with Ma when she comes home with Pa. Right now, its you who I’m worried about.”--Buddy

Buddy pops the door open.

“What do you say, ‘special agent Fowler’?”--Buddy

The boy smiles a bit, wiping his tears and crawling into the back seat.

“Have I mentioned you’re the best sis ever?”--William

Buddy chuckles a bit getting ready to head out.

“Haven’t heard that too often, though I wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”--Buddy

Both laugh as they head outside the garage.

Years later…

“I guess I was right about that ‘Special Agent’ thing, huh? How are we going to celebrate today? Ice cream? Donuts? What about that Apple Pie you said you were craving earlier?”--Buddy

Fowler smiles a bit inside Buddy’s alt mode.

Buddy ended up becoming his vehicle throughout the years until eventually joining him in his workplace.

It was quite the story to tell.

Buddy was the one to suggest the silo as her new permeant place instead of the garage.

She started immediately making the place feel less hollow.

Working on devices that would help her try and contact her team as well as traps for any Decepticon dumb enough to land on Earth.

She had been at the ends of finishing a prototype for a groundbrigde when one of her receptors went off.

She quickly answered it hoping for someone she knew.

It was Optimus Prime himself.

She nearly leaped for joy hearing her leader on the other end.

When the team arrived, she nearly passed out seeing that Bulkhead was amongst them.

She held her composure welcoming them to Earth.

“Welcome everyone to—OOF!”--Buddy

Bulkhead had raced past everyone to hug Buddy nearly weeping in the process.

Buddy hugged back.

“Are we missing something?”--Ratchet

“That’s something I’d like to know too.”--Fowler

“What’s that?”--Ratchet

Much explaining to do.

Buddy was pretty much the human to bot relation expert having more years on the planet under her belt than they did.

The team is surprised at how a cold and calculated bot was someone Bulkhead considered a daughter.

But after a bit of time, they did see the dynamic and in a way it was nice to see.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp bulkhead x platonic reader

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

Text

Stages of Shadows: Chapter 1 - First Meeting and Reunion

The dim lighting of the waiting room cast eerie shadows across the walls, giving the place an ominous atmosphere. As the new contestants filtered in, a mixture of excitement and tension hung in the air. Robin, seated quietly in a corner, wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the cold seep through her thin, stage-ready attire. The silence of the room reminded her of the empty halls she'd once wandered alone, a hollow place left behind by the family she'd lost.

But now she was here, thrust into a world of ruthless competition, unsure if it was luck or misfortune that had led her here. She looked up as another contestant entered the room—a stranger with a warm smile and a welcoming presence that cut through the tension like a blade of light. [Name] moved easily through the crowd, sharing nods and words of encouragement with others, their kindness starkly contrasting with the cutthroat aura the Stages of Shadows had instilled in the other contestants.

When [Name] approached Robin, they extended a hand, offering a small, reassuring smile.

“Hey. It’s pretty intense here, isn’t it?” [Name] said gently, their voice laced with warmth.

Robin looked up, surprised by the softness in their tone. She studied their hand, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to grasp it. Their touch was firm yet gentle, grounding her amidst the uncertainties and fears that had built up since arriving.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s... a lot to take in.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone, you know. I’ll be around, if I make it out, that is.” [Name] chuckled, reassuring with their smile.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Robin felt a flicker of comfort—a reminder that not everyone here was an enemy. As she released [Name]’s hand, she felt her guard ease just a little, like an unexpected glimpse of sunlight piercing through thick clouds.

The days within the Stages of Shadows began to blur, each one blending into the next with rehearsals, performances, and the ever-present threat of elimination. Yet, amidst the chaos, Robin found herself seeking out [Name], cherishing their quiet conversations and the way they offered encouragement without expecting anything in return.

But there was another hope that lingered in her heart—a faint, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, her brother might still be out there. She’d lost him years ago, a loss that left an ache she could never soothe. It seemed absurd to imagine he could be here, in the same twisted game. And yet, some part of her refused to let go of the thought.

One evening, after a grueling rehearsal, Robin wandered down a dimly lit hallway, her mind heavy with exhaustion. The lights flickered as she rounded a corner, and suddenly, there he was.

Sunday.

He was taller now, with a composed, dignified air that masked a depth of sorrow she could recognize all too well. She halted, her breath catching in her throat as memories flooded back in an instant. The boy she remembered was gone, but the warmth in his gaze, the quiet strength—it was unmistakably him.

For a moment, neither of them moved, both frozen in disbelief and awe. Then, as though pulled by an invisible force, Robin took a shaky step forward, her heart pounding as she met her brother’s gaze.

“Brother…” she whispered, barely able to breathe.

Sunday’s calm composure cracked, his eyes softening with something close to relief and regret. He reached out, drawing her into an embrace that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. For the first time in years, Robin felt whole—a piece of her heart restored, a bond she thought she'd lost forever.

They held each other tightly, as if afraid the other might vanish at any moment.

“You’re really here...” she murmured, feeling the warmth of his embrace as if it could shield her from the darkness around them.

“I thought I lost you...” Sunday replied, his voice barely a whisper. He pulled back, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. “Robin, how… how did you end up here?”

She shook her head, unable to answer. So much had happened since their separation, and yet, all of it faded in the face of their reunion. For the first time, she wasn’t alone. She had her brother, and she had [Name]—two anchors in a world that seemed determined to tear her apart.

Sunday’s gaze darkened as he studied her, his protective instincts surfacing in an instant. “We’ll get through this.” he said firmly, his voice brimming with conviction. “No matter what it takes, we’ll find a way out of here.”

Robin nodded, clinging to his promise like a lifeline.

[Navigation]

#Stages of Shadows #x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr robin #robin hsr #robin x you #robin x reader #robin #honkai star rail sunday #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday #penacony #star rail #chapter 1

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luveline · 11 months ago

Note

hi jade!!!! hope you’re doing well❤️

i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but i just finished reading your aaron fic where reader flinches during an argument with him and i was wondering if i could request that with spencer!? that aaron one had me MELTIN

luv you so much! 🤍🤍

thank you lovely, and thank you for your request! cw implied past domestic or childhood violence

Spencer is taller than he realises, you’d suggest. He doesn’t understand that he can be intimidating because he’s spent years of his life intimidated, and thought harmless.

“You’re not going,” he says, towering, so, so tall where he stands in front of you.

Your hands are sweating, but you hold your ground. “Of course I am. I’ve been her consultant for the last three years, Spencer, any mistake she’s made is one she made from my advice.”

Your frustration colours your words, tightens them, your throat burning as you try to explain it to him. All he’s hearing is the potential danger. His eyes are squinted with it, curls falling into his eyes. He’s too busy arguing with you to brush them away.

“You can’t walk into an active war zone. Do you even know what that’s like? You’ve never been to these places, you can’t begin to understand the danger you’d be in if you went.” He tries to take your hand. You take a step away from him. “I don’t know why you’re being like this.”

“Like what?” you ask, immediately doubly pissed off.

“Refusing to see that what you want to do is impossible. You wouldn’t be any help to her, you’d only be in danger.”

“I wouldn’t be any help?”

“You know what I mean!” His voice bounces off the walls.

“I’m not sure I do, Spence,” you say, vitriolic as he again takes a step toward you, his open hand extended. “Why don’t you explain it to me.”

“Y/N,” he says, stepping forward again.

You step back, not wanting your back to a wall but not wanting to be closed in either while he’s so angry, you’re so angry, your heart is beating hard between your ears. “Seriously, tell me why I’d be so fucking useless.”

“Angel–” Spencer’s hand leaps up toward your face.

You flinch back hard, the back of your head clipping something marginally softer and your back forced under an alcove with a huge thwacking bang, an odd cry of distress pressed to your closed lips as you sink away from him. Spencer doesn’t feel like Spencer for that split second, he’s someone else trying to shut you up, and he’s close enough to do it.

“Y/N,” he says, riddled with heartbreak, “Y/N, it’s fine. You’re safe. It’s just me.”

You slide down the wall to the floor. Heart pounding. Blood rushing all over, and then suddenly stopped.

“It’s just me,” he says again, softer now. “It’s just me.”

But it isn’t just him. There’s always going to be someone else cornering you, there’s always—

A slim-fingered hand cups your jaw. Spencer’s crouching in front of you now with remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to do anything to you.”

“I know,” you try to say. It comes out as nothing but hot air. You clear your throat. “I know.”

“It’s just you and me in here.” He rubs your chin with his thumb. “It’s always you and me, right?”

You breathe out as tears well hot and heavy in your eyes, caught in all your lashes. “You put your hand up and I just thought– I felt like you were gonna hit me and I know you aren’t gonna hit me, I felt like you would.”

“I was putting my hand up for the cabinet. I was trying to stop you from smacking your head on the cabinet,” he murmurs, his lips hardly parted. “I did. But I shouldn’t have closed you in.”

He shows you his hand, the one he’d rested so carefully against your jaw and cheek. His knuckles are a sore red and the skin around them mottled —that had been the thwack. You’d knocked your head into his hand and he’d stopped you from getting hurt. He must’ve done it quickly, with no regard for himself.

Spencer isn’t the kind of boy who’d hit you.

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble to yourself, dropping your chin to your chest. Tears press hot behind your eyes. It took a few beatings for you to start anticipating them, and a crueller violence after that for it to stay. To flinch at a familiar hand? “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” He couldn’t speak any softer. He’s on his knees in front of you, a picture of gentleness. The annoyance he’d spoken with only minutes before is nowhere to be seen.

For flinching, and falling apart. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t even matter, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and I,” —he ducks his head to meet your eyes, his voice taking on a loving dulcetness— “know you don’t like yelling, I shouldn’t raise my voice. I’m the sorry one.”

You’re relieved he isn’t mad. You honestly don’t think Spencer would ever lay his hands on you, but it wasn’t thought that made you duck away from him, it was the pure fight or flight of a remembered trauma. The memory of a raised hand and the pain of a blow to your face.

“It’s not about the shouting,” you confess.

He rubs your arm. “Angel, I know.”

You watch his fingers rub up and down your arm, the gentle tug of your skin with each pass. “Why do you call me that?” you ask quietly.

“Would you prefer something else?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how you’d sound saying anything else.”

“You’re sort of like an angel.” He sounds earnest and shy at once. “You know? You're pretty, and sweet when you aren’t mad at me, and–” He pauses at your soft laugh. “I really didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry.”

He brings both hands to your cheeks and wipes at the dampness of dissipated tears under your eyes with his thumbs. He holds your face without hurry nor roughness nor want to straighten you out; he doesn’t encourage you to lift your head, he only meets your eyes as you are, letting you decide what you want to do.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you say.

He leans in to kiss your cheek, his hair brushing your nose. You hold still, but you aren’t afraid.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

She Don’t Wanna Marry Me

Part 4

16 Years Old

“Hey Y/N!” A familiar blonde ran up to you.

“Oh hey Jessie what’s up?” You crossed your arms as you spoke to the girl.

Lorraine quietly stood next to you as your walk home was interrupted.

“Nothin much.” The girl

Giggled twirling her hair. “I just wanted to know if you’d want to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?”

Lorraine’s jaw clenched as she watched your face. She couldn’t tell if you were interested by the way you kept your expression smooth.

“I appreciate the offer Jessie but someone already asked me.”

Both girls eyes widened surprised before Jessie smirked her shy demeanor gone.

“Well I can promise you an extra good time if you go with me.” Her hand went to graze your arm with its fingernails making Lorraine scoff. You glance at the girl offering Jessie a short nod before you led the small brunette on the path home.

Once she was out of ear shot Lorraine let loose.

“Skank.” You barked out a laugh making the girl glare at you.

You raise your hands up in surrender.

“Hey what did I do? I completely agree with you.” Lorraine’s eyebrows furrowed.

You chuckle softly shaking your head.

“You really think I’ll let jezebel take me to the dance?” Lorraine shrugged her feet kicking a small rock as she refused to meet your eyes.

“Well if not her then what about the other girl that asked you?”

You shook your head.

“I turned her down told her I was planning on asking someone else.”

Shiny brown eyes met yours.

“Who?” She asked voice soft and curious as she bit her lip.

“I-“

“LORRAINE!” You let out a heavy sigh as Douchebag Danny came running up to the two of you.

The girl beside you shifted her attention to the boy running towards you. The moment gone the minute he’d stood in front of her.

“Hey..” he huffed trying to catch his breath. Hands on his knees as he bent over feeling as if his lungs were gonna collapse. “Hey.”

Lorraine giggled brushing a piece of her hair back. You felt your jaw clench knowing the tell tale sign of Lorraine crushing on someone.

“Hey Daniel, are you ok?”

The boy scoffed standing up straight still breathing heavily.

“Psshhh yeah I’m fine, better than fine actually I’m great.”

You rolled your eyes as you felt yourself almost puke.

“I heard a rumor that you were gonna ask me to the dance coming up.” Your eyes shot to the girl in question as she blushed, more nervous giggles and hair twirling as she looked up at the boy doe eyed.

“Maybe.” Pearly white teeth grinned at her.

“Well maybe I would say yes.” The girl squared her shoulders and stood taller.

“Will you go to the dance with me?”

“I’d love to go with you.”

You walk ahead giving the two space as they continued to talk. Douchebag following you as he offered to walk her home.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” You didn’t look but knew Lorraine was already telling the boy yes.

You walked into the kitchen rubbing daddy’s shoulder as he read a newspaper and gave mama a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey baby how was school?” You shrug grabbing an apple.

“It was ok I’m not that hungry right now is it ok if I just go lay down?” The two looked to you concerned but were quickly interrupted by a squealing Lorraine.

“I got a date to Sadie Hawkins.” Her mom laughed clapping a bit before kissing her daughters cheeks.

“That’s great baby. We’ll go dress shopping this weekend ok?” The girl nodded enthusiastic as her father grunted.

“And what little punk thinks he’s good enough for my Rainey?” The girl almost rolled her eyes at her fathers protective nature. You remained quiet as your grip on the apple tightened and the slight flexing of your jaw increase. Slowly making your way to your room as you wanted to avoid any further talk of the dance.

“Daniel Smith down the street.”

He huffed. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”

“He’s 17 daddy.”

“Oh stop it.” She hit her husband. “He’s a sweet boy his mother and I are in the same book club and he always lends a hand when she needs it.”

“Yeah all boys are sweet at first then they go looking for one thing and the minute they get it-“

“Stop while you’re ahead.” Mrs. Day’s tone was calm but the threat behind her words gave little sense of peace.

His shoulders sagged before he sat up straight again turning to his daughter.

“I want to meet him before you leave and he better have you home by 11.” The girl clapped hugging her father before helping her mother set the table. She noticed only three plates being taken out.

“Is someone not eating?”

“Y/n said she wasn’t too hungry. I’ll leave her a plate in the microwave.” As the trio ate her father broke the silence.

“So did anyone ask her to the dance?”

Lorraine scoffed. “Yeah, the town tramp.”

Her father choked mid bite a hearty laugh following.

“Damn it Raine.”

“Lorraine.” Her mother scolded making the girl shrug at the mixed reactions.

“It’s true. She did say someone else asked but it wasn’t who she wanted to take.”

“Did she ever say who it was?” Lorraine shrugged.

“No idea.”

The next day you were more quiet than usual and as you went to leave, Mrs.Day stopped you.

“Aren’t you gonna wait for Lorraine?”

You shook your head.

“Douc-Daniels gonna get her.”

She nodded. “Would you want me to take you?”

You shook your head already one foot out the door. “I like the walk.”

As you were leaving you almost slammed into the idiot with nice hair.

“Oh hey Y/n is Lori ready?”

You felt your eyebrows scrunch together. Lori?

You shook your head rushing past him.

“Don’t know but I gotta get going.”

This was last week, the dance was in a few days and all but one Day noticed your strange behavior. You were listening to music when Mrs.Day knocked on your door.

“Hey sweetie.” You put your phone down slowly taking off your headphones confused.

“Everything ok?” Mama laughed sitting next to you on your mattress.

“I should be asking you that darlin you’ve been quiet and we haven’t seen much of you.” You shrug.

“Just been busy.” The woman smirked.

“Avoiding Lorraine?” You flush slightly rubbing your neck.

“I’m guessing she was who you wanted to ask to the dance.” You stare slightly embarrassed as you nod.

She gently placed a hand on your cheek brushing some hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry baby.” You shrug again. “But I think you shouldn’t mope around.”

“You’re not mad at me for liking Lorraine?”

The older woman laughed.

“Baby if I got mad at you for that I would’ve hated you since we met.”

You stay silent. “How about we go get you something nice for the dance?”

You shook your head. “I think I’ll pass.”

She nodded as she stood going to her bathroom brushing her teeth as she got ready for bed.

Her husband resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Y/n just realized she likes Raine.” Mr.Day laughed.

“That poor kids been in love with her since they met, we just gotta wait to see if Rainey will catch up.” Her eyebrows shot up.

“You knew?!” He laughed nodding.

“I may not be the sharpest tool

in the kit but I know love struck when I see it.”

“I give it 2 years before they get together.” Her husband grinned.

“I think it’ll take longer than that I give it 5.”

22 Years Old

Mr.Day was quiet as he brushed his teeth, his wife next to him rubbing lotion into her skin.

“Guess we both lost that bet huh?”

Mr.Day chuckled. “I got until the end of this year but yes it’s looking like we were wrong.”

Mrs.Day sighed.

“Is it our fault?”

“Of course not! We can’t dictate her life. It’s better to wait for the right thing then to race for the wrong thing.” She shook her head.

“She’s getting married.”

“She’s engaged, she ain’t married there’s still time for her to figure out what her heart wants.”

“And what if it’s Rj?” At this Mr.Day scoffed.

“Yeah and what if pigs fly?” The back of her hand slapped his shoulder.

“Im serious.”

“And I am too darlin’. Look Raine may take some time but I think a part of her knows RJ ain’t right for her. Im hoping a part of her also knows that while she may not love Y/n she deserves someone who would love her like Y/N would.”

They stayed quiet until Mr.Day broke the silence again laughing.

“You remember Daniel?” His wife finally cracked a smile.

“Such a sweet boy.” Mr.Day laughed.

At the dance she had only talked about you and how she wished you were there with her. Daniel had tried to steer her concentration to them but ended up taking her home early. Their “first kiss” decent but no fireworks. The dates were nice but she’d find herself wishing she were hanging out with you instead. They had tried, going bowling, grabbing pizza, even small walks in the park. This went on for months before Lorraine had decided to end it. She didn’t feel the connection she yearned for.

Lorraine had come in crying she hadn’t stopped to talk to her parents she just ran up to your room pouncing on you the moment she went through the door. Her arms slung around your neck as hot tears met your skin. She was so upset she couldn’t speak. You consoled her and let her take your bed before you snuck out knocking on the boys door and punching him with no explanation.

“I was the one who taught her to punch.” Mr. Day grinned proudly as his wife hit him once again.

Back at your apartment, you had just finished washing up when you heard a sharp knock at your door. You went to open the door and found Lorraine on the other side.

“Raine?”

“So an apartment above the shop is better than our home?”

“What? No I-“

“Did you leave because you didn’t want them to catch you sneaking in girls?”

“What?! Raine-“ the girl stumbled into you. Big baby browns locking onto yours as soft hands stroked your face.

“Or is it because you hate me?” You watched as a light shimmer of tears lined her eyelids.

You grabbed her chin firmly making her breath hitch.

“Now that’s a damn lie Lorraine I could never hate you.” You sniffed and almost gagged at the familiar scent.

“Are you drunk?” Her body sagged against you her head hitting your shoulder as she nodded.

“And you drove here?!” She shook her head.

“I had Bobby drop me off.”

You sighed, picking the girl up bridal style.

She laughed arms going around your neck as she did so.

“You’re my best friend.” You laid her gently in your bed as you went to grab some extra blankets.

“I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.” You stop, looking at her cheesy grin knowing she doesn’t mean it the way you want her to.

It’s only when her soft snoring hits your ears that you realize she’s fallen asleep.

“I love you so much more.” You place a soft kiss on her forehead as you go to sleep in the couch.

Once you throw yourself down you raise one arm behind your head, eyes staring at nothing as you wonder what you’ll do when she marries him.

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