#i am truly so heartbroken over this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andvys · 5 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty two ⭐︎ Let the world around us just fall apart

Warnings: no warnings, I am not gonna spoil anything, read at your own risk and minors, get outta here as always

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.5k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult can you believe we made it here?... feels like we just started planning this story! anyways thank you for helping me proofread and perfecting the story ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

“I don’t know if a dress would make him say yes to a date with his mortal enemy.”

Billy scoffed at your words, rolling his eyes.

“Mortal enemy, my ass.”

You were fidgety as you were walking towards the GAP store with your best friend by your side. You looked around you and stopped at the entrance, a sudden nervousness came over you when you looked inside.

This was insane and it didn’t even feel right. You knew he would say no, not even a pretty dress could change his opinion of you.

Steve couldn’t stand you, it felt ridiculous to even think of asking him out, knowing how it would end but your best friend put so much hope in you, he encouraged you so strongly, how could you not try?

Billy stood before you, a comforting smile crossed upon his features.

“I– I can’t…”

You looked into his blue eyes, the kindness that was shining just for you, making your lips twitch.

He took your hand in his and squeezed it, tilting his head down with a nod, he gestured to the store.

“You can do it, sweets…”

His words echo in your mind, repeating over and over again, blurring your vision further as you look at the man before you with tears rolling down your cheeks and rain pouring down on you, you’re shaking like a leaf, not from the coldness that envelopes your body like an icy blanket but from all the emotions inside of you.

And Steve, he stares at you, eyes blurred with tears that even you can see through your own.

His head is pounding from all the sobs that left his lips, from all the tears he shed over you after what Robin told him about you, about your feelings for him. He feels ready to crumble to his knees as he looks at you now, ready to let those tears spill again, ready to take you back into his arms and try to forget.

But despite the sadness, the brokenness in him, he also feels anger, not even for you but for himself.

“What do you want?”

Tears spill from your eyes and your chest aches in pain and fear as you look at the heartbroken, angered boy in front of you.

You have not heard that voice from him in a long time. That voice that had venom in it, directed only at you. The voice that held dislike, disgust, hatred. The voice that Steve once had towards you… and this time it hurts even worse than it ever did before.

You see the way he looks at you, so different from how he did this morning and it makes you feel small, just the way it always did and suddenly you want nothing more than to turn around and run again, to leave and spare yourself more pain.

But this can’t be the ending.

It just can’t be.

And the pain in his eyes, his reaction to whatever Robin had said to him fuels the hope that began to dwindle. If he didn’t feel anything for you, he wouldn’t stand here like this.

Thunder crashes behind you so loudly that it makes you flinch and shut your eyes tightly, for only a second but a second enough for Steve to snap and truly look at the sight before him – the storm that rages behind you, the wind that curses through the forest, the lightning that surges through the sky, illuminating everything around you as loud rumbles vibrate against the ground while the rain pours down on you.

You are standing here, in the middle of a storm, caught in the rain, you are standing here before him.

His heart lurches to his throat when he hears your sniffle, sees the tears in your eyes and the way you are shaking as your bottom lip trembles. A broken cough falls from your lips and he instantly steps forward. Worry crosses out every other emotion in him as he reaches for your hand, his gaze softening the longer he looks at you.

“Blondie! What the fuck are you doing here!? It’s— It’s storming!” He yells through the rain and tries to pull you into the house but you shake your head at him and take a step back, refusing to step inside.

All the words, all the sentences, everything you had rehearsed and looked forward to all day flet away from you, the confession you planned no longer exists in your mind, it’s all blank.

“I–I… I need to know… I need to ask… I-I never asked and I feel like I’m losing my mind now–”

A desperate sigh falls from Steve’s lips, he shakes his head at you, begging with his eyes as he moves closer to the doorstep, not understanding a single word you are saying.

“What…? Blondie, you need to get inside, you’re fucking soaked–”

“No!” You shake your head at him, feeling uncomfortable beneath the pouring rain but refusing to give into the warmth just yet. “I need to… I need to tell you something!”

He can see the way you try your hardest not to cry, the way your glassy eyes look into his so brokenly, the way you look as though you will fall to your knees any second and it only makes the aching in his chest so much worse.

“W-What?”

You take a deep breath and you almost choke from the sob you have kept inside for too long, that you can no longer hold as it falls from your lips so brokenly.

“It’s all my fault! All this time, I blamed time and I blamed bad luck but never myself! If I only had said something to you, if only I had even shown you a little bit of what I truly feel, you may have noticed! I-I never tried! I never fought! And I am the only one to blame if I end up broken in the end!”

Steve shakes his head at you, his tears falling yet again at the sight of you crying and speaking so desperately through your cries.

“Blondie– you’re– you have to get in–”

He tries to reach for you again but you swat his hand away, sniffling and shaking your head.

“For years I held it in! Even before the upside down, before joining the group and quarreling like never before with you! Even before any of what we had been doing for the past few months! When you passed me in the hallways, when you sat behind me in science class, when you had your basketball matches and even when I went to parties, I always looked at you!” Your voice cracks when another sob escapes you, and then another before they continue falling uncontrollably, feelings overwhelming you as you finally let them out after years of keeping them locked away.

And Steve, he stares at you with wide glassy eyes, feeling stunned and frozen in place as his heart stops beating for a moment.

“And– And now– I can’t hold them in anymore, because I feel like if I keep going like this I will explode– but my gut is telling me that I have to say it… but I’m so afraid… I’m so fucking afraid! I-I can’t lose you, not you, Steve.”

His knees nearly buckle at your words, at his sudden movement as he finally rushes forward, stepping under the rain with you, not letting you move away from him again as he cradles your face with his hands and tilts your head up to make you look at him.

It all moved so quickly, he didn’t have the time to properly digest everything that just left your lips but it all was enough to bring him back to you, to start his heart again, to fill it with the hope that he thought was burned to ashes only hours ago. He already saw his grave, he already saw his demise, the death of his heart when he thought that he found out what you had really felt for him.

But you are here, not caring about the storm above you, not caring about the vulnerability you’re letting come through, not caring about anything but him at this moment.

He grows desperate too and so does his heart as it calls your name.

He rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, holding you so tightly as he fears that you will slip through his fingers at any moment, that he might wake up to an empty bed after sobbing himself to sleep, thinking about you but then you wrap your hands around his wrists, clutching them tightly as you cry.

Now he can see it in your eyes, the look he always searched for but couldn’t find, now he can see it all so very clearly but it still isn’t enough, he needs to hear you say it.

“Please… Please I beg you to say it… I need to know, baby, please. Y-You don’t have to be afraid anymore… not with me… So please, say it.”

Your body trembles like it never did before, your heart pounds so strongly in your chest, you blink through your tears and stare up at him, into his hazel eyes that beg for you, the eyes that look at you with so much hope and desperation as tears cascade down his cheeks along with the rain that crashes down on the both of you.

The boy you never thought could ever feel a sliver of what you feel for him stands in front of you, holds you so tightly as he pleads for you, for your love.

“Please,” he whispers so brokenly, like your words, your love is the only thing he wants and needs.

He begs for you and no one else, only you.

The one you always wanted, the one you would give your life for, the one that had your heart from the very start.

You take a deep breath and hold onto him tightly, your heart jumps to your throat when you finally, finally whisper those three words.

“I love you.”

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, a weight he didn’t even realize he was carrying falling off his shoulders, his brows furrow as his lips part, fresh tears well up in his eyes and his heart starts beating again.

He can’t believe that this is real, he can’t believe that he just heard those words coming from your mouth, he can’t believe that you are here, standing right in front of him with no walls built around you any longer, he sees a side of you that he wasn’t sure was there but it is and you let him see, you let him see all of you, the real you, the vulnerable girl that hid from the world, from him.

And now that those words have finally left the sacred place in your heart, you feel an overwhelming sensation taking control over you, your body begins to shake harder than it did before, tears are flowing and sobs continue on falling.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!”

Your voice is so small, yet so loud as you chant those three words through your cries, clinging to him so tightly so you don’t fall to your knees.

Words that Steve never thought he would hear echo through his driveway, falling from your lips so beautifully, nothing but the truth lingers in your eyes, nothing but vulnerability, nothing but a love he had never thought he would get to feel in this life, let alone from you, you who he had fallen for so unconditionally, so deeply that it hurt not only in his heart but in his soul when he thought that you didn’t feel what he does.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper, sniffling. “I love you so much, I always did, I–I loved you from the moment I first saw you, I have loved you for more than you can imagine! I have loved you for–”

A choked sob falls from his own lips before he pulls you tightly against him and smashes them against yours, kissing you with everything that he has, pouring every ounce of love into it, enveloping you in his arms, in his embrace, in his warmth. Holding your face in his hands is no longer enough, he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you tightly against him so your chest is pressed against his own.

You lift your arms up and cup his wet cheeks, kissing him deeply, holding him tightly, not caring about the salty taste on your tongue or his.

Steve cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss and getting lost in it, not minding the rain or the storm and you don’t either, you don’t even flinch when the thunder crashes. He kisses you hard and he makes you forget about everything around you, everything ceases to exist, everything but him.

He murmurs something against your lips when you both grow too breathless to continue the kiss.

He could not begin to describe the emotions that exploded inside of him.

You love him.

You love him just the way he loves you.

You have loved him for absolutely nothing, when he was cruel to you, when he mistreated you, when he gave you nothing but cold gazes and his cruelty.

You have loved him during times when he felt most unlovable, when he thought he had no one, when not even his parents wanted him, when his first love lied to him, betrayed him, left him only to come back and fill him with false hope again, only to leave him once again.

You have loved him when you showed up at Scoops Ahoy that day, you have loved him when you jumped into the water to save him, you have loved him through it all, when this started, and when he began falling, you were already in it so deeply.

But you were so good at hiding it, you were too good, too good at making him and everyone else believe how great your dislike was for him but you were such a good actress, why else would he have believed Robin’s words?

His hands settle on your upper back and he slowly brings them back to your front, sliding them upwards to your shoulders and then your neck. His brows pull together so strongly as the kiss slows down when the lack of air gets to both him and you.

Your lips tremble against his, your lashes flutter when you open your eyes again, you trace his bottom lip with your thumb, still sniffling, still crying as you look at his pretty face. You feel so relieved now that it’s all said and done, that your feelings are out in the open and no longer hidden underneath all your layers that you protected yourself with, all these years.

But you don’t know what this means for you now, not even the kiss could lay it out for you.

But Steve, he stares at you in awe, at the girl he fell so deeply, unconditionally, otherworldly in love with. The girl that stands under the pouring rain with him, the girl that lets nothing stop her from confessing her love to him, not even the thunder, the storm she fears so greatly, the girl that stands in front of him isn’t the one he started this affair with, the one he bickered with, the one with the harsh words, no, this girl is the real you, the one that lost but still gave love a chance, the one that loved despite the blows to her heart he caused, despite the hurt he put her through.

You felt that way during his worst days, you felt that way when he loved another, you felt that way when he was with other girls, you felt that way when he spit mean words into your face – all these thoughts overwhelm him, a mix of emotions flood through him, he is not sure if he is even deserving of this, of you but he would be a damn fool if he didn’t fight for you back.

Steve stares at you through his tears, he leans down closer to you, taking shaky breaths as he finally says the words he never thought would leave his lips again.

“I love you,” he whispers and cradles your cheeks again, “I love you so much and I’m stupid for not saying anything either–”

Your eyes grow wide, shock freezes your whole body as you stare at him.

You knew there was something, there had to be but love? Love isn’t something you expected him to feel for you.

“Y-You love me?”

Your voice sounds so broken, so small, your eyes well up with more tears, your lips tremble harder than before and somehow you look even more vulnerable than you did seconds ago.

How could he not love you?

How could he not give his heart to you?

How could he not imagine a future with you?

You are everything to him, you are his everything.

His heart melts at your gaze, at the way you're clinging to him, looking at him wide eyed like you are afraid that he isn’t real, that this isn’t real.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, Blondie,” he whispers, his voice cracking and tears continuing to roll down his cheeks, “keeping it a secret was tearing me apart, even more so when I thought that you didn’t feel the same.”

You can’t name the emotions that burn inside of you, not right now, at least.

But all that you know is that you feel joy and happiness, like you have never felt before.

Your heart feels alive.

You feel alive.

He loves you, Steve loves you, Steve is in love with you.

His kind, soft eyes look into yours with nothing but adoration, love and affection. His hair clings to his forehead, his clothes wet just like yours are, he is crying, not from sadness anymore but from happiness, just like you are.

You can’t help but kiss him again, slamming your lips against his shaky ones, you kiss the man who confessed his love for you, the man you never thought would feel the same.

He wastes not a single second to kiss you back, your noses bump harshly together but it only makes you smile, it makes you both giggle against each other's lips. Feeling your shaking body against his, Steve wraps his arms around your waist and he pulls you back, leading you into the house without breaking the kiss.

Your sneakers squeak against the tiles in the hallway, water drips down from the both of you, needy whines and huffs fall from yours and his lips, echoing through his house when he finally closes the door to the storm, he pushes you against the red door, caging you in against it as you grab at the collar of his shirt, pulling him tighter against you as the kiss grows more desperate and hungry.

Steve feels it too, he feels the desperation, the need to feel you closer than this. Your body against his, your hands in his hair, your tongues clashing together through the feverish kiss isn’t enough, he needs to feel your skin on his, he needs to feel your warmth, he needs to hear your sweet moans, he needs to be inside of you.

But first, he needs you to know.

He can feel your tears on his lips, hear your sniffles, feel your pounding heart beneath his palm as he touches your chest.

You have loved him for so long, you have suffered for so long and he knows that you didn’t understand yet just how deep his feelings are.

Steve pulls away from the kiss, only enough so he can speak, close enough to still feel your lips against his, he leans his forehead against yours, keeps his nose nuzzled with yours, he rubs your cheeks, wipes your tears away as he pecks your lips again and again.

You are both panting, both clinging to one another, gazing at each other lovingly.

“You need to hear this, Blondie,” he whispers, not feeling scared or nervous any longer. “You need to understand my feelings for you. They’re not small, they’re not in the slightest. You are the one I imagine myself buying a white picket fence house with, the one I imagine myself marrying, the one I imagine having a family with, no matter if big or small, anything you give me I will take. You need to know that you’re my future, that I have been wanting you in my future for a long while now. There is no one else for me but you.”

Steve watches the way your eyes brighten, the way they almost turn doe-eyed, a shaky breath escapes you, like you can’t believe the words that just left his mouth. You blink at him, lips curling. “Y-You want kids with me?”

You have been by his side for so long, you have been his girl from the moment you decided you wanted to be, you have always been the missing puzzle in his life, you have always been the one that was supposed to be here, with him. All this time, you waited, waited for him and he was so blind, so unaware, so focused on anything but the love of his life. It took him time to realize that, it took him too long but he knows now, he knew for a while.

He smiles, wiping the falling tears from your cheeks as he leans in to give you a soft peck, “as many as you’re willing to have.”

A giggle falls from your lips and you nuzzle your nose against his, leaning your forehead to his as you wrap your arms around him tightly.

“I can’t believe that this is real.”

And you mean every word of that.

Steve can’t believe that someone could love him like this, so strongly, so unconditionally, not even expecting anything in return, loving him through the war between you, loving him through heartbreak, loving him through it all.

You have been there.

You have always been there.

Tears spill over his lashline and down his cheeks, a watery giggle falls from his lips, the hurt in him disappearing more and more as the light seeps back in, a brighter one that his soul had ever seen before, his heart no longer twists in pain, it beats so strongly, so lively, so happily as nothing but love and joy shines in him.

“Me neither,” he whispers against your lips, voice shaky and filled with tears, “I can’t believe that you love me, Blondie, that you want me like this.”

You can’t help but kiss him again, again and again. You cup his cheeks, smiling through your tears as you do something you always wanted to, kiss his pain away, kiss the tears away that stream down his cheeks. You kiss his jaw, his chin, his cheeks, every inch his tears have stained, you kiss it all away.

“I want you more than anything, Steve Harrington,” you murmur into his skin, making the boy sob against you as he holds you tightly, tighter than he ever did before. You grab his hand and pull it towards your chest, placing it above your beating heart, “my heart belongs to you.”

Steve could never find the right words to tell you how he felt, no matter how long he’d look for them, he would never find them, they didn’t exist, and no words that do come close to explaining just how deeply he felt for you, not even the I love you’s he gave you already come close.

So he decides to show you instead.

He bends down and hooks his arm around the back of your knees while the other comes to rest on your back, he tears a squeal out of you when he picks you up bridal style and carries you upstairs.

You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, giggling at his sudden move.

He can’t help but smile at the sound that falls from your lips, his heart moving in a way it never has before, a whole new rhythm taking over when he feels the shift of energy in you, when he sees the look in your eyes changing, when you let all your guards down, stripping yourself off each layer.

You press your lips to his, pecking them softly before you move onto his cheek and then his jaw and finally his neck, kissing him while he continues his way up the stairs, trying not to get too distracted by your touch.

“I love you, Stevie,” you whisper into his skin, “I love you so much.”

You can’t stop saying those words now that you have finally allowed yourself to let them free.

Steve has to swallow down the sob that threatens to spill from his lips again, your words bring him so much happiness but he is also so emotional.

Rain water drips from the both of you as he walks through his dark hallway, he is careful not to slip with his wet sneakers, he kicks open the door to his room and walks inside, shutting it again, making it slam. The only source of light now being the lightning that still illuminates the sky every few seconds, the rain paddles down harshly against his windows.

Steve puts you down again so he can undress both you and himself and rid you of the soaked and cold clothes but not before cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, rubbing your wet cheeks as your lips and tongues mingle together in a feverish but passionate kiss.

He brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears, he slips his hands down to your shoulders, removing your jacket and letting it fall to the ground, his fingertips grazing your bare arms that are littered with goosebumps.

You hum against his lips, hands reaching for his belt, clinking as you unbuckle it. You then pop the button of his jeans and move on to his shirt as he does the same to you.

You both only break the kiss to take the chosen clothing item off, your eyes flutter open, instantly locking with his warm brown ones. You smile at one another as you help each other.

You raise your arms up when he starts taking your white, now almost see through shirt off, he drops the material and wastes no second to touch your bare skin, staring at you with nothing but awe and adoration, like it is the first time he gets to see you like this. He touches you so delicately, so softly and gently that it brings a new wave of tears to your already sensitive eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers those words to you, followed by your name that always sounds so pretty rolling off his tongue.

Your heart flutters in your chest, your cold skin heats up beneath his warm touch.

You take a step closer to him, almost pressing your chest against his now as you go to take his shirt off too, he looks down at you and bites his lip, eyes flashing with a deeper adoration when you rise to your tippy toes to roll the wet material off his skin, messing up his hair further when his shirt gets stuck around his head, making you both giggle.

You rise up further, trying to pull it off when he mumbles, “don’t say anything now.”

When you finally free him from it, you throw it on the ground next to yours, smiling brightly, “there was a reason I called you Lego–”

You gasp when he kisses you roughly, not letting you finish the sentence. You don’t hesitate to kiss back, placing your hands on his neck, touching his wet skin and raking your nails down his chest and his stomach, you reach for his belt while he kisses you breathless.

His own hands travel down to your hips, leaving no space untouched. He feels the way you suck in a sharp breath, hears the way you whine against his lips as you tug at his pants just the way he starts working on popping the button on yours.

You pull away from the kiss and breathe heavily against his lips, something that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He starts pushing down your pants when you stop him by grabbing his wrists.

“Wait,” you whisper, worrying him with the tightness of your hold on him.

“W-Why? Is something–”

Before he can even question you, you stop him once again by pressing your lips against his, “everything is perfect,” you murmur against his skin, making his heart skip several beats as you continue kissing him, “you’re perfect.”

He is so close to tears once again, your words match the look in your eyes so perfectly, the love that is and was only ever reserved for him is so strong that he can’t help but wonder how he never saw it before, it’s so clear and so evidently there.

Steve never saw himself as anything perfect, not even when everyone else thought that about him throughout his short lived ‘reign’, he always had flaws, always saw them in himself, always felt like there was something wrong with him deep inside. But you make him feel special, you make him feel like he is truly something perfect, like he is worth something with the way you look at him and touch him so delicately as you reveal the side of you that wanted to love so desperately but never felt safe to.

“I want to make you feel good, Steve,” you whisper as you latch your lips onto his neck, slowly kissing your way down to his chest and stomach before you begin to sink to your knees, “please let me.”

Steve’s eyelashes flutter as his eyes close for a moment, the feeling of your lips kissing his wet body making him shiver in pleasure. He opens his eyes again when you hook your fingers around his belt loops, trying to tear his pants down but he stops you just the way you stopped him, the look you give him nearly makes him crumble, the big and pleading eyes, the pout on your lips, the desperation written all over your face.

He wants to sink to his knees for you.

He wants to make you feel good.

So he leans down and grabs you beneath your armpits, picking you up with ease and throwing you on his bed and despite the sound of your whine, he pulls himself together and takes the rest of your clothes off, tearing off your shoes before he works his way up to your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear.

He stares at your body in awe and in love, tracing every inch of you with his eyes as he quickly rids himself of his clothes and kicks off his shoes hastily before he gets down before you, wrapping his hand around your ankle, he looks into your eyes and he presses his lips to your skin, slowly kissing his way up to your thighs.

“Steve,” you whine with a whisper, eyebrows furrowing and pleasure already seeping into your bones. “Please… I want to–”

“Shh, I want to taste you, my love.”

My love.

He called you my love.

Your heart could burst right this second, it could explode, from joy, from happiness and love.

You hear nothing but his voice, the smacking of his lips against your skin and the beating of your heart as he loves on you. You no longer hear the howling wind or the crashing thunder, the bolts of lightning only add to the rush you are feeling right now as you look down at him, at the pretty man between your thighs. You throw your hand into his hair, tugging at his wet strands.

“Please, Steve… Baby, I want to taste you too, I want to make you feel good, please let me…” You whine, not feeling ashamed for the desperation in your voice. “W-We can do it at the same time, please…”

Steve’s stomach flutters at your words, he stops moving and looks up at you with a blush making its way up to his cheeks.

That is something you haven’t done before, not with each other, not with anyone else.

His blood rushes to his core just at the image of it, his stomach burning with lust as he looks into your eager eyes.

“You can’t say shit like that, darling,” he nearly growls and pulls away from you to take his boxers off before he moves on top of you, stealing your breath by slamming his lips back against yours, kissing you needily.

Your moan echoes through his room, getting louder when he grinds against your center, he pushes his hands beneath you so he can unclasp your bra, ridding you off the lacy material, he throws it on the ground before he moves on to your panties. He pulls away for just a second, hooking his fingers around the elastic and helping you get rid of them in a quick motion. His lips slam against yours again as his hands move back up to your waist, grabbing it with both hands, he flips you over so you’re the one on top.

You press your hands against his shoulders, whining when you feel his cock pressing against your center, thighs already sticking together.

He moans loudly when he feels your warmth against him, lust swirling inside of him.

You pull away from one another and he pushes his hands down to your butt, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Turn around, baby…” He whispers and you don’t waste a second to comply.

You take a deep breath and cup the side of his face, pecking his lips softly before you turn around, your knees dig into the mattress, your hands grabbing his thighs roughly when you feel a sense of nervousness rushing through you, your cheeks heat up at the position you are in, fully exposed to him in a new way but that feeling in you subsides and turns into something else when you see his erection, pre-cum rolling down his length and making your mouth water as the need to taste him, to pleasure him grows stronger than before.

And Steve, his eyes darken with lust and he grabs your hips tightly, already leaning forward, he can’t wait any longer when you’re like this in front of him, fully exposed, your folds soaked with your slick and thighs already glistening too, you are so wet that he can smell it. He gives you a rough squeeze before he leans in and licks a stripe from your clit to your hole, making you gasp out in pleasure, a sound that shoots straight to his dick.

Your eyes nearly roll back at the feeling of his tongue, of his mouth on you as he dives right in, devouring you so desperately as though he needs it, needs you like air.

And you need him too.

You press kisses along his shaft, teasing him by massaging his balls and you slowly flick your hand up and down around him, humming against him as his moans sound through the room, getting more desperate the longer you continue this.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” you promise before you spit down into your palm, wrapping your hand back around his length, a little firmer this time, you jerk him off and swirl your tongue around his leaking tip before you finally wrap your lips around him and take him deeply into your mouth, closing your watery eyes and hollowing your cheeks around him.

Steve moans loudly against you, sending vibrations through you, he slips his tongue inside of you, holding you tighter than before as he laps at your pussy with desperation, getting lost in the pleasure of tasting you and feeling your warm mouth around him.

You look so perfect, so fucking sexy with your hair falling down your arched back, your skin glowing beneath the flashing lights of the storm, he can’t help but run his palm up and down your butt, squeezing and grabbing at your skin, moaning even louder when you grind back against his face as you take him deeper and deeper until Steve can feel the back of your throat.

He whimpers your name, eyes rolling back as he delves deeper into you, slipping two of his fingers into you along with his tongue, he scissors you, spreading you open for him. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, he can feel you drooling all over him.

Your moan vibrates all around his cock, making you pull it out of your mouth in order to take a breath. Your concentration starts to fail you as his fingers move rapidly inside of you, his tongue lapping at everything he can take that is dripping out of you. You keep moving your hand on him as your hips twitch.

“S-Stevie…” He doesn’t care that you are not sucking him off right now, he is only caring about your pleasure. He needs you to feel treasured, cared for, and he needs you to feel it with him only. That he is the only one that can bring you all of this, even if it sounds possessive… He wants to be the only one, forever.

You feel your belly burn and you look down at his cock, trying to pull yourself together, trying to forget about the throbbing happening in your pussy. You want to make him feel good. You want to hear him come undone as well. So you open your mouth once more, licking at the head and pressing the tip of your tongue right on the slit. You feel Steve groan against you, and then you finally take him inside once more.

You bop your head, swirling your tongue around him as tears fall from your eyes, you are so deeply lost in the pleasure, you forget everything around you, only he matters. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, you can hear his moans and how much louder they get and you feel your own release approaching as he flicks your clit with his thumb and curls his fingers inside of you, using both his digits and his tongue to unravel you.

“I know you want to let go for me, darling,” he murmurs against you.

You can only hum around him, wanting to feel him cumming down your throat.

“Please do it, cum on my tongue,” he whispers as he drags his fingers in and out of you, making your stomach tense up hotly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, twisting your wet palm around him as drool continues to roll down his length. You want him to find his release, you want it so badly.

You grab his knee, holding on tightly as a cry tears from your throat and your legs nearly give out when your high washes over you, shaking through your core and making your body feel tense yet released all at once. His other hand gripping your hip tightly to keep you pressed against his mouth, not letting you move away.

“Mmm,” Steve hums against you as though you are the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

You wish you could see his face.

“Just like that,” he praises, giving your butt another squeeze, he laps at your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, teasing your already sensitive clit before he moves back to your entrance.

His own hips almost buck up when you hollow your cheeks further and take him deeper, nearly making him cum too soon for his liking.

“W-Wait, baby, please… I wanna cum inside of you,” he says with a shaky, pleading voice as he tugs at your waist, trying to pull you off him so he can have you back in his arms, so he can see your face again and feel you around him differently. He would’ve chuckled at the whine falling from your lips if he wasn’t so emotional right now. “Come here,” he whispers, holding you tightly as he turns you around and pulls you onto his lap, straddling him.

Meeting his eyes again, your lips part when you see the burning desperation in them, his cheeks are flushed and his chin glistens with your release. He looks so beautiful.

Steve’s hands move from your waist to your hips, fingers digging into your skin as your own hands reach for his shoulders.

No words need to be said, you both know what you want, what you need as your eager hands reach for one another, trying to pull the other closer and closer until you’re skin to skin, closer than you have ever been before.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours and wrapping his arm around you, hugging you against him as you place your hand between you both and wrap it around his length again, teasing both him and yourself when you slip it through your sensitive, wet folds.

Your bottom lip trembles, emotions running deep because of his words.

You never thought that you would ever hear such words falling from his lips, you never thought you would ever be this blessed.

You throw your arm around his shoulder and press your lips against his as you slowly sink down on his length, taking him deeper and deeper until you’re fully seated on him, making both yourself and him whimper in pleasure. His fingers dig deeper into your skin, holding you tighter than ever, he stops breathing when he feels you clenching around him, whining as you adjust to his size.

His heart skips a beat when you place your palm on his chest, resting it there as you press yourself even tighter against him and it hits him – this is it, everything he ever wanted now belongs to him, it’s all his, you are his.

And he is yours, wholeheartedly and unconditionally yours.

You start rolling your hips slowly, breathing heavier, holding onto him tighter, gasping and sucking in sharp breaths when he moves with you, pushing his hips up as he fucks into you deeper.

A sniffle falls from you when you pull away from the kiss, breathing in shakily, you open your eyes slowly to find him looking at you already, a loving, soft gaze flashing in his honey eyes, the love in them not hidden at all, it’s all open for you now, all there for you to see and to feel as he leans into you, pressing his lips to your chin and peppering kissing along your jawline, making his way down to your neck as he murmurs your name sweetly.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispers, followed by your name that rolls off his tongue so beautifully. “I was going crazy, thinking that I didn’t stand a chance with you, honey.”

He was the only one for you, from the moment you laid your eyes on him, he was the only one.

“S-Steve,” you whisper as you feel yourself nearing another sob, his words and his touches overwhelming you.

You bury your hands in his hair, combing your fingers through it before you grab it tightly.

“I don’t think you understand,” he whispers against your collarbones, leaving tender kisses and marking your skin with love bites, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your bottom lip quivers, your chest contracts and you can’t hold it in any longer.

Years of pining and longing, of feeling hopeless and unworthy of him and his love while watching, admiring from afar and wishing for nothing but a chance with him, a piece of his heart, all while losing yourself in a darkness you have found home in, a darkness he took away again.

He gave you light and warmth and now he gave you more, not only a piece of his heart but he gave you his whole.

Your tears spill just as strongly as before, an uncontrollable sob falls from your lips, leading you to bury your face in his neck, you wrap your arms around him so tightly, hugging him strongly, breathing in his scent and letting your heart match the beating of his own.

“I got you,” Steve whispers as he blinks through his own tears, “I got you, darling and I’m not letting you go, not ever.”

You press your lips to his skin, shutting your eyes tightly. The burning in your chest, in your stomach all feeling too much, you hold onto him, you cling to him, scared of letting go.

Steve’s heart could burst at any second now, feeling your tears rolling down his skin, your hands, your body clinging to him like you’re afraid to lose him because you are, you are afraid to lose him.

Someone is afraid to lose him.

And he nearly let you slip through his fingers.

A silent cry falls from his lips this time, tears pool in his eyes and he pulls you closer and closer until you’re completely flush against one another, pushing in deeper and deeper to feel you closer, to feel you in the most intimate way as he spreads you open and you pick up the pace, rolling your hips faster, whimpering and gasping into his neck.

“Please don’t let me go,” you whisper, pressing kisses to his hot skin, “please don’t ever leave me,” you beg despite the promise he just made to you.

The brokenness in your shaky voice only makes him more desperate to show you just how deeply in love he is with you, how he would do anything for you, how there is nothing and no one that could take him away from you, how he would come crawling back to you over and over again even if you didn’t love him.

He slides his hand up your body, cupping each side of your face, he urges you to face him, wanting to see you again and you look at him, with big and glassy eyes, you look into his eyes.

“I will never leave you,” he whispers softly, wiping your tears before he reaches for your hand, bringing it back up to his chest, he places it over his heart, “I’m yours, my heart belongs to you, darling.”

Steve sees it in your eyes, just how long you have wanted this for, how special this moment is to you, how special he is to you, how much love there was hidden in your heart just for him.

He will worship the ground you walk on for the rest of his life.

“I love you so much,” you sniffle, unable to say anything else.

His lips curl into a smile despite the tears that fall down his already wet cheeks, he pulls you against him, bumping his nose against yours accidentally as he pecks your lips, “you make me so fucking happy,” he kisses you, “and I don’t think you even realize that.” Kiss. “I’m so in love with you, honey.” Kiss. “I love you with my whole heart–”

You smash your lips against his, kissing him with everything that you have, moving your lips softly yet roughly with his, parting them with your tongue as you slip it into his mouth, deepening the kiss further.

He moans against you, placing his large hand on your cheek, he matches your pace and kisses you back hungrily, getting lost in the feeling of you, of your heat and your burning skin against his, your walls that tighten so strongly around him that it makes his mouth water and his cock twitch inside of you, his body screams for release but his heart aches for this moment to never stop, not realizing yet that this is only the beginning of your story.

Your hands grab at whatever they can reach, his shoulders, his biceps, his face, his messy hair and finally his hands as you pull them away from your chest so you can intertwine your fingers with his. You feel the coil in your stomach growing bigger and bigger, the burning in your thighs intensifying by the second. His moans and whimpers vibrate against your lips when you keep clenching around him.

Filthy sounds take over the room, your whines of desperation, the slick noise of his cock slipping in and out of you as you ride him, the sound of your lips smacking against each other.

But nothing, nothing about this moment is filthy or dirty. Everything about this is more than special, more than what words could describe this very moment. Your hearts beat the same rhythm, finally finding each other, your souls entwine as your bodies meet in the most intimate way, you are both overwhelmed by the feelings that rush through you and yet you feel peace because you finally are where you were always supposed to be, in each other’s arms, holding one another and making love to each other as everything fades to nothing but the two of you.

And it feels like forever, neither of you no longer wet from the rain but from the sweat that coats your foreheads, your moans turn into weak whimpers as you’re both panting, your kisses never stopping, not even when you lose your breaths, you are aching, you both are, you are sensitive and in need of release.

You are shaking and so is he, his cock so hard inside of you, your walls so sensitive as you are twitching.

He holds you possessively, from the strong hold on your waist to the touch of his hand on your cheeks, he is showing you with his touch that you are his, only his.

No words need to be shared, no warnings, nothing, you both feel it, you both know what you want, what you need.

Despite the lack of air, your kiss deepens, your lips moving roughly and needily as his digits work on your sensitive nub, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You wrap your arms around him again, hugging him so tightly as you and he finally let go, allowing yourself to bask in the pleasure of coming undone.

Steve moans so needily, pressing his palm so strongly against your shoulder blade, he keeps you close, whimpering your name against your lips followed by not one but a few ‘I love you’s’ as he fills you up to the brim.

“S-Stevie,” you whisper shakily, twitching and clenching around him still, even as you slow down, more and more. “I love you.”

And even when this moment felt forever, it still wasn’t enough, how could it ever be? Not even forever would be enough with you, he needs more, so much more.

You fall limply against him and rest your head on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath and he holds you through it all, panting just like you as he lies back, taking you with him, and rests his head on the pillows behind him, playing with your hair and running his fingers through it, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers, making no moves to pull out of you just yet.

The heat of your skin burns against his own, your hand lays over his heart so perfectly and he takes it in his, raising it up to his lips and kissing your bare ring finger.

In the arms of the man you love is where you found your home a long time ago but now it no longer feels cold or lonesome, one sided or saddening, it truly feels like home now, filled with light and warmth, love. He found a home in you too, he finally did.

Seconds and minutes go by and you stay like this, clinging to one another and loving every moment of this. Your cheek is squished against his chest, you are breathing him in, your heart fluttering at the thought that this is the true beginning of it all.

You open your eyes, your lips curling into a smile when you find him looking down at you, adoration so deep in his beautiful features, his hand still holding yours.

It’s so dark in the room, the lightning no longer flashing, thunder no longer rumbling, the storm has passed and only the light rain remains. You still see his handsome face, the color of his cheeks, the pretty brown eyes that you adore so much, his kissable lips.

You cup his cheek and tilt your chin up, moving closer to him so you can press your lips against his cheek.

“You’re so pretty, Steve Harrington,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth, “pretty baby.”

Steve doesn’t know why out of all the words you have called him, these are the ones that make him blush the most, his cheeks redden and he feels grateful for the darkness in the room.

“That’s you, darling,” he whispers and steals a kiss from you, snaking his arm around you further, he smiles when you press your palms against his chest and lean your chin down, staring up at him with love filled eyes.

“Darling,” you whisper, lips curling into a smile, “I love that.”

His hands squeeze your waist, his eyes not straying away from you, not for a single second, “yeah?”

You nod and lean closer to kiss his chin, “mhm.”

As you lay here on top of him, showering him in kisses, gazing up at him starry eyed, he feels comfort and warmth blossom in him thinking back to a time when he wasn’t even aware of all this, when he didn’t think that it was even possible for anyone to love him, to find out that you did, you out of all people, you who he thought hated his guts more than anything but loved him in secret, a secret you nearly took to your grave.

Oh, he would have suffered, he would have felt such a tragic loss if you had died that night but it wouldn’t have hit him until weeks or maybe even months later, when he would have finally allowed himself to look at your picture, to remember the memories of you, to remember your voice and your beautiful face, remember the few gentle moments you had with each other, only then would he have felt the truth coming to life, the feelings he always refused and denied, he would have realized that it was you, that it should have been you, that it was always supposed to be you but it would have been too late, you would have been gone and it would’ve broken him, he would have never recovered, he would have never forgiven himself for finding his love for you when it was much too late.

You would have been the loss of his life.

That thought shouldn’t even plague him right now because you’re here, in his arms, tracing his skin with your finger as you smile up at him.

“I love you so much,” he whispers instead of tracing those words into your skin like he had gotten used to doing.

This all still feels like a dream, a way too good of a dream.

The smile that reached your eyes wasn’t one he had ever seen before, no matter how happy, how comfortable you were around him, he had never seen such a bright, happy, relaxing smile on your pretty features.

He had never felt the touch of your lips in such a soft way, a kiss so delicate that it made his chest vibrate with a new wave of emotions.

“And I love you,” you murmur against his lips, “I hope you don’t get sick of me saying that.”

Steve scoffs at your words, raising his brows as he stares at you in disbelief, his hand moving up to your upper back, resting them on your shoulder blades as he presses a kiss to your nose, “honey, this is all I ever wanted.”

To hear him say such words only makes the dream-like state you are in much more intense.

Who would’ve thought that you would hear these words from him?

“I always had a crush on you,” Steve whispers, admitting something to you that he himself struggled to accept only a few months back.

This time, it’s your eyebrows that shoot up in surprise, shock flashing in your eyes, “w-what?”

There is no way that Steve ever felt anything other than dislike for you, especially before the upside down.

Steve chuckles to himself, moving his hand up to your face, he tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles at you.

“I always watched you too, Blondie,” he admits, watching the way your softened eyes fill with confusion, “but I was an idiot, I-I didn’t know how to talk to you, I knew how to talk to every other girl but you? Fuck,” he sighs, furrowing his brows as he takes a deep breath, “I didn’t know how to talk to you because you made me so fucking nervous, it’s like all my confidence slipped away the moment you looked at me with those pretty eyes.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his eyes well up with tears again, words he had kept inside for so long now finally slipping from his lips.

“And you weren’t… you weren’t–”

“Nice?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, your heart starts pounding again.

He chuckles for a moment and shakes his head, “no, I– you weren’t supposed to be nice to me, I wasn’t nice to you, but that’s not what I mean, I… You just, I don’t know how to– I always messed up around you and it kept happening so I put on this King Steve persona, especially when I was around you and fuck… Honey, I tried to impress you but I always felt like you weren’t looking at me, no matter what I did, you were never looking at me.”

You don’t know what hit you harder tonight, the three words he repeatedly blessed you with or this revelation.

All you know is that you feel it in your core, the shock and the confusion.

You shake your head a little, like you don’t understand a word he said.

“When we wrote notes to each other, I-I didn’t want to admit it to myself back then but I really fucking hoped that something would come out of it but nothing did… I know you thought that Tommy set me up to it but he didn’t.”

You don’t know what to say, you don’t even know what to think, it’s all so much, it’s all too much for one night.

“I-I don’t–”

Steve cups your cheeks, shaking his head as he isn’t done yet.

“No, I waited for you… I waited for you at every game, I always looked around trying to find you in the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of you, even when I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I always waited for you.”

Your eyes crinkle though they well up with tears again, you couldn’t describe the feelings in you, not even if you tried.

His hands on your skin feel softer than ever, his eyes shine with tears and his bottom lip quivers.

“I was there, Steve,” you whisper, blinking through your tears, swallowing the nervousness, “I was there.”

He nods, lips curling into a soft smile, “I know that now b-but I wish I knew back then, I wish I wasn’t so hard on you…”

You know the look in his eyes, the regret, the guilt he feels from that day at the mall and the few other bad ones.

But they don’t matter anymore, they haven’t mattered for a while now, and they especially don’t matter now.

Shaking your head, you lean up, cupping his cheek too, you kiss him sweetly, softly, stealing his breath away with tenderness. You place your hand over his, guiding it down to your chest and placing it over your heart.

“Those days are over, they don’t matter anymore,” you whisper and keep a tight hold on his hand, “you have me now.”

And you have him.

He is yours, he wants to be yours so badly.

Steve nods, leaning into the touch of your hand, he blinks his tears away and moves his head, pressing his lips against your palm, and he kisses you there, making you smile.

“And you have me,” he whispers softly, watching the way your eyes sparkle with happiness, with love.

You catch him by surprise when you start showering him in kisses, pressing your lips to his face, to his cheeks and his forehead, to his nose and his chin and then finally his lips, making him giggle at the sudden sweet affection and then, you cutely nuzzle your nose against his, giggling through it all yourself.

You only did this once, on the fourth of July, when you were wasted. Your lips went crazy across his whole face, you kissed him all over, complimented him and looked at him as though he was your own personal sun.

How could he not see back then?

How could he not see that it wasn’t the alcohol but the love you already felt for him, the love you couldn’t contain in that moment.

Steve makes you squeal when he moves too suddenly, grabbing your waist and flipping you over so he is the one on top, he cups your cheeks and leans down, doing what you just did, leaving no spot unkissed.

“Steve!” You giggle, squeezing your eyes shut as he trails kisses down to your jaw and your neck, tickling you with his hair and the light stubble around his mouth. You grab at his waist, holding on tightly.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing you there over and over until you grab his face and pull him back up to you.

He looks down at you, moving his hand up to your face, he tucks away your hair and caresses your cheek, admiring your puffy lips, your beautiful eyes as you look at him with nothing but love in them.

Everything he ever wanted is now right in front of him, in reach and now all he needs to do is ask.

“Do you want to go on a date with me, Blondie?” He asks, unable to contain the smile on his face as he watches the way your eyes crinkle and a giggle falls from your lips, you cup each side of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, answering him in the sweetest way. He only chuckles against your lips, pulling away for just an inch in order to mumble against your lips, “I need words darling…”

And that little word that will change your life forever finally comes out of your lips,

“Yes.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#dwoht -- chapter twenty two #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #stranger things angst

704 notes · View notes

chocosvt · 5 months ago

Text

HER | teaser.

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader teaser word count: 1.4k actual word count: 140k (yes, u read that correctly) genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings for the full fic: drug use (weed, coke, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: as i descend to one knee and cup my hands together at your mercy, i offer a tidbit to the wonwoo fic i have finally completed after two years (lol). i know i ALWAYS say this, but i truly wasn't expecting the fic to be THIS FUCKING LONG! thankfully, i planned it well and although i lost momentum countless times (nervously side eyes the approximate & several 5 month breaks i took in between), my dedication to seeing the characters through & "completing" their growth was smth that i could not leave behind!

not having posted a fic for two years is prob a little much :0 so hopefully the length of this makes up for it (?) usually my writing is just teehee silly little romance agonizing slowburn surface level dilemmas of the self BUT THIS ONE HAS A LITTLE KICK!

so read it if you want! don't read it if you don't want!

hearts & flowers, xoxoxo (me :*)

UPDATE: read the first part here!

—MARCH 19TH.

“I have a relatively big favour to ask of you.”

No. Wonwoo didn’t want anything to do with favours.

The fact that Seokmin had actively picked out his presence in the coffee shop like he was some shiny contortion of plastic had actually offended Wonwoo. He came here for two things: to not be bothered, which his friend knew, and to work on the book he was halfway through typing and had been halfway through typing for the past six months. Call it writer’s block, or an inspiration drought, or an absolutely depressing lack of drive—it had been hanging over the writer with an annoying persistence and it seemed that no number of lemony scones or cold coffees were going to make it vanish.

“Uh, Wonwoo?”

“Sorry… what?” He forced his gaze to shift from the blank page on his laptop to Seokmin’s apologetic, softly expressional face, slightly flushed from his time outdoors in the chilled March weather.

“I was just wondering if you’d be up for a favour—a pretty big one—and I know this is your special creativity spot, but she’s been like, breathing down my neck about it and I can’t put it off again.”

“Whose been breathing down your neck?”

At first, Seokmin didn’t say a word, or even make a sound. His lips twitched for a moment, but then he pressed them together and his chest visibly sucked in with a breath. God, Wonwoo hated the suspense and he hated Seokmin for interrupting him when he had been so stupidly close to putting a sentence down that he probably would have back-spaced in frustration a minute later.

“Y’know…” he trailed off, “Her.”

Her.

No, not her, you.

But most people—if not everyone—referred to you by an alias that had seemed to stick so well the majority believed it actually was your name. When people said her they meant Her, and so in a confusing mess of finger-pointing they really meant you. Come to think of it, Wonwoo had no idea where the nickname even came from or who gave it to you or what it even meant.

And he was perfectly fine with never knowing.

“What?” Wonwoo deadpanned. “What on earth could she want to do with me? She doesn’t even know me.” He slid down in his chair, fingers pulling at his circle-lensed glasses so they tilted uncomfortably across his nose bridge. “Or, is this a joke?”

“Oh—no! Absolutely not!” His friend was insistent on proclaiming, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m being serious.”

“Why don’t I believe you then?”

“Okay, well, if you let me explain everything, it’ll all make sense. I said I know someone who writes really well—”

“Meaning me?”

“Yes, meaning you. And the only reason that was even brought up is because she wants to write a book.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help it. He laughed—a very short, disbelieving laugh that flashed a transient smile to his face as he readjusted his crooked glasses. You were the last person he would ever envision wanting to write a book. He then navigated the trackpad on his laptop, deciding to close the document simply titled, 01, that harboured the fleet of pages to his own current work in progress.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo disregarded, “sounds like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you the truth!” Seokmin exclaimed, gripping onto the metal back of the café chair like he was squeezing someone’s taunt shoulders. “She won’t tell me about what, okay? Just that she’s been thinking the idea for a while now. It’s not like I didn’t try to get details. But she refused—said the only person who can know is whoever’s going to help her. Look, y’have to understand, she was pestering me about it nonstop. And you’re my only writer friend!”

“Well, you’re about to have none.” He answered, reaching for his coffee cup but stopping it just short of his lips. “How serious is she about this, anyway?” Wonwoo sighed. “Do you know how much fucking time you need to dedicate to writing a book?”

He stomached a slow, somewhat grimacing sip as he tasted the coffee’s coldness, meanwhile Seokmin swallowed heavily, and at last pulled out the chair he’d been white-knuckling to take a seat.

“Yes, I’m aware it takes time. I know that. And she is serious or else I wouldn’t be here, bothering you. She takes everything seriously.” The boy began unbuttoning his sleek black jacket. “Really, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe you’ll meet her once and she’ll decide she can’t stand you, and then you’re off the hook for life.”

“Yeah, well have you ever considered what might happen if I can’t stand her? Are my feelings even being considered? Minutely?”

“Minutely, they are being considered.”

“Liar.”

It wasn’t that Wonwoo disliked you.

In actuality, you scared him more than anything. But to be associated with you was to be drawn into your life and caught like a firefly in a glass jelly jar. The proof was right in front of him—to Wonwoo’s eyes, Seokmin was basically your little mailman that scrambled around in hectic nature to do your bidding, because most tasks apparently weren’t worth the time or effort.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to rope me into this. You know I can hardly write my own shit, right?” Wonwoo said bitterly, wishing it was the opposite, “my mind is a desolate, blank canvas of fuck-all and if she thinks I’m writing it then she needs a reality check.”

“No, no—of course you won’t write it!” Seokmin reassured him with his big, opalescent smile. “Really, you’re just giving tips, maybe guiding her process, helping with the planning… you know, this could be facilitated so much easier if you spoke to Her yourself!”

“So, my nightmare?” Wonwoo huffed, shaking his leg.

In an instant, Seokmin had whipped out his phone, tapping around the screen quickly using his thin pointer finger.

“I’m just going to pull up her schedule. It’s always pretty packed, but more into the summer break, it thins out a little. “

Wonwoo exhaled, staring off into the warm, afternoon sunlight that hailed in through the windows, striking all the shimmering flecks and pieces of dust afloat in the café air. When he breathed in again, he could smell the luxurious coffees brewing in their rich and distinctive notes. It was such a beautiful day—still chilly as the snow outdoors began to thaw—but pleasant nonetheless.

“This is such a fucking waste.”

And Wonwoo spent it being miserable.

“No, it’ll be useful. Trust.” Seokmin chirped.

“You’re trying to dip me in your optimism gloss again.”

His friend smiled affectionately, tilting his head.

“This will be good. You’ve been a hermit since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo scoffed, “so you think it’s a good idea to shove me with the person I relate to least on the entire planet?”

“Really? The least? So, what you’re saying is, you relate more to serial killers? Or animal abusers? Or like, literal fasc—”

“Stop.”

“You want to do this. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll set you up.”

A part of Wonwoo knew there might be no wriggling out of the situation, especially with Seokmin sitting across from him, characteristically eager and brightly pushy as always, like a goddamn salesman. For now, it could be easier to let himself get cuffed.

“Can I at least have some time to think it over?”

“Uh… well… the thing is… the thing with that is—”

“You’ve cornered me?”

“I wouldn’t word it like that.”

“… Okay.” Wonwoo removed his glasses, shoved his knuckles tender but deep into his eye sockets, massaging through flashes of white as he came to accept a fate he didn’t know even existed in his astrology. “Just, I don’t know—fuck—schedule me in wherever.”

“Ha! It doesn’t exactly work like that.”

“I really don’t give a damn how it works, Seokmin.”

“Right,” his friend laughed nervously, “I promise that I’ll get back to you pronto. Sorry for the disturbance. And, uh, good luck.”

“With what part?” Wonwoo grumbled, fixing his spectacles back on to clarify Seokmin’s sympathetic face, the light bouncing off his head of brassy hair like a disco ball. “My incapability to write a goddamn thing or the fact I have to help your perfectionist friend who’s probably going to chew me up and spit me out?”

“Both parts.” Seokmin grinned. “It can only go up from here.”

✧✎ a/n: tada!

this is the introductory scene! i think i've read it so many times that i could probably recite it from memory at this point ;_; anyway! as i mentioned, i know that it's been a hot minute since i last uploaded any scenarios. but one way or another this monster is getting posted! i did NOT have this lurking on my poor tired macbook causing it to overheat and sputter and spew FOR NOTHING!!

i swear that i don't plan for my works to get this goddamn long. before i hardly planned at all. maybe now i plan too much? i guess i have yet to find a happy medium!! but again, i do hope the size of the fic makes up for all that missed time :_( life has been ruff. but this fic was there as a handy distraction mechanism (when i prob should have been facing reality fhwejfhwk) so i guess it's been a double-edged sword!

also just want to preface that the reader goes by an alias throughout the fic. i'm not sure if this is like... a very huge or popular concept nowadays? so if it hits your reading ear a bit weird at first i apologize! but i swear it has purpose!! *chekhovs rule* *winkwink*

ANYWAY! no more rambling!

i'm pondering the idea of adding a taglist for those who are interested, just as i did with honey boy :3 so if that tickles ur fancy then feel free to each out!

BUT PLZ HEED THE FOLLOWING:

the fic in its entirety will be split across 6 parts

the word count of each part ranges from 22-24k!

i do not YET have a set posting schedule, simply bc i am unsure of how long it will take ppl to get through each part

(so that would be smth i'd have to gauge afterward)

REVISIT THE WARNINGS!!

i will not be flagging mature/nsfw/triggering scenes throughout the fic as the fic itself already has a heavy nature to it

so pls read the warnings!

if there's any additional questions i encourage u to swing by :3

*deep breath*

THANK YOU!!!!!

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #svt fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen fanfic #jeon wonwoo #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt scenarios

828 notes · View notes

forlix · 1 year ago

Text

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth.

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies.

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.”

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost.

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place.

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?”

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead.

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too.

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

1K notes · View notes

dissapointu · 6 days ago

Note

You are extremely cool, I am impressed by your works, really, your content is amazing. If you don mind (ignore that if you do) I would love to read about arcane characters who found out that their s/o are self harming. English is not my native language, so sorry if I wrote something wrong. And thank you again for your content, it’s healing me

Thank you so much for your kind words—they mean the world to me, truly. I’m so honored that my writing can bring you even a little bit of comfort. You’re so brave for sharing this request, and I want you to know I’m writing this with as much care and as I can. You’re never alone, and you deserve all the support, love, and healing in the world.

Jinx

Jinx has lived through her own struggles, so when she finds out, it hits her hard.

• At first, she’d be shocked, maybe even a little panicked. “Wait, wait… you’re serious? You’re really feeling this way?”

• But once it sinks in, her protective side takes over. She’d grab your hands, look you in the eyes, and say something like, “You don’t have to hurt yourself, okay? I’m here. Always. You can tell me anything.”

• Jinx might struggle to find the right words, but she’d pour her energy into reminding you how much you mean to her, distracting you with her chaotic ideas or working on projects together to keep your mind busy.

• “You’re stuck with me, got it? No matter what.”

Vi would feel a gut punch of worry and guilt when she finds out, blaming herself for not noticing sooner.

• She’d approach you carefully, her usual confidence softened by concern. “Hey, I know something’s going on. You can talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

• When you open up, she’d immediately pull you into a hug, holding you tightly like she could shield you from your pain. “I don’t care how bad it gets. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m with you.”

• Vi would try to help in her practical, straightforward way—whether that’s sitting with you during hard times, helping you find support, or just being a safe space for you to vent.

• “You’re strong. And on the days you don’t feel strong, I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

Sevika

Sevika might not know how to respond at first, but underneath her tough exterior, she’d be deeply shaken and determined to support you.

• She’d bring it up gently, her voice calm but serious. “I’ve noticed… some things. You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

• Once you told her, she’d listen carefully, nodding as she processes what you’re saying. “Alright. Thanks for telling me. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ve got you.”

• Sevika would be protective in her own quiet way, always keeping an eye on you without making you feel overwhelmed. She’d remind you of your strength, even when you couldn’t see it yourself.

• “You’re tougher than whatever’s weighing you down. And I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

Silco

Silco would approach the situation with a calm intensity, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.

• He’d carefully bring it up when you seemed open to talking, his voice low but steady. “I’ve seen the marks. Let me help you.”

• When you open up, he’d listen without interruption, his expression serious but full of quiet care. “The weight you carry is yours, but you don’t have to carry it alone. You are far more than this pain.”

• Silco would offer practical help, ensuring you have resources or someone to talk to. He’d remind you of your worth with every gesture and word, showing you that he sees you as more than your struggles.

Vander

Vander would be heartbroken when he finds out, but he’d immediately focus on making you feel safe and supported.

• He’d sit you down somewhere quiet, his voice soft but firm. “Hey, I’ve noticed some things that worry me. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, he’d pull you into a warm, protective hug, whispering, “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, no matter what.”

• Vander would be the type to check in regularly, always making sure you feel loved and valued. He’d remind you of all the reasons he admires you, even on days when you struggle to see them yourself.

Ekko

Ekko would be hit hard when he finds out, but he’d channel his feelings into being the best support system he could be.

• He’d approach you gently, finding the right moment to say, “Hey, I noticed some stuff, and I just wanna make sure you’re okay. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

• When you open up, he’d nod, taking it all in with quiet understanding. “Thanks for trusting me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Ekko would find little ways to lift you up—whether it’s spending time with you, leaving you encouraging notes, or reminding you of all the things he loves about you.

• “You’ve got me, okay? We’re in this together.”

Jayce

Jayce would be deeply concerned but determined to be there for you in every way possible.

• He’d sit you down gently and say, “I’ve noticed something… and I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can we talk about it?”

• When you open up, he’d listen carefully, his hands holding yours tightly. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”

• Jayce would be all about finding solutions, whether that’s helping you access resources, supporting you in your healing, or just being a steady presence in your life.

Viktor

Viktor would be quietly devastated when he finds out, but his empathy would shine through.

• He’d bring it up carefully, his voice soft but full of concern. “I’ve noticed some things, and… I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can you talk to me?”

• When you open up, he’d listen with his full attention, nodding as he processes everything. “Thank you for telling me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Viktor would find thoughtful ways to support you, whether it’s leaving you encouraging words, sharing quiet moments with you, or reminding you that he sees you as more than your pain.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would approach the situation with grace and quiet strength.

• She’d gently sit you down and say, “I’ve noticed some things that worry me. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, but I’m here.”

• When you open up, she’d take your hand and say softly, “You’re so important to me, and I want to help in any way I can. You’re not alone.”

• Caitlyn would make sure you feel supported without overwhelming you, always reminding you of how much she admires and cares for you.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be deeply empathetic and immediately focused on supporting you in a way that feels meaningful.

• She’d approach you gently but directly, saying, “I’ve noticed something… and I want to help. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen carefully, her expression soft but serious. “You are worth every bit of effort and care, and I’ll remind you of that as often as you need.”

• Mel would be the type to help you find resources or create a support system, always making sure you know you’re loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would approach the situation with quiet strength and determination.

• She’d bring it up directly but with care, saying, “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. Let me help.”

• When you open up, she’d nod seriously and say, “You are stronger than this pain, and I’ll stand by you every step of the way.”

• Ambessa would be fiercely protective, always reminding you of your worth and showing you that you’re never alone in this battle.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be soft and empathetic, immediately focusing on making you feel safe.

• She’d sit with you quietly and say, “I noticed some things, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d hold your hands tightly and say, “Thank you for telling me. I’m here, always.”

• Maddie would be the type to check in with you often, reminding you through little actions and words that you’re loved and never alone.

Lest

Lest would be heartbroken but gentle and supportive when she finds out.

• She’d approach you with quiet care, saying, “I noticed something, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen attentively and say softly, “Thank you for trusting me. You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

• Lest would make sure you always felt loved and valued, reminding you that you mean so much to her.

285 notes · View notes

hearts4hughes · 6 months ago

Text

WASHING MACHINE HEART | JACK HUGHES

fem!reader x jack hughes

summary: in which your entire heart was never enough for jack. (4.5k words)

author note: this is one of, if not my longest, writing pieces. it is very loosely based on washing machine heart by mitski. this took like two weeks to write and forgive me, i am NOT proofreading!! this is incredibly angsty so buckle up!

"jack?" your brows furrow, eyes squinting in confusion. "what are you doing here?"

he never showed up unannounced. did you miss his text or call? who are you kidding? you’d never dare to miss one of his calls.

you were in love with jack hughes. every single ounce of your body was drowning in your love for the brunette boy. you memorized every facial feature, mannerism, and breath he had. nothing about him went unnoticed to you.

if only he held mutual feelings. he loved you, he truly did. but not in the way you yearned; not in the way you craved. while your eyes followed him, it seemed like he followed every other girl.

you and jack met in the ninth grade. he was failing in every class possible (besides physical education) and you were excelling in every class possible (including physical education). in jack’s mind, he didn’t need school or an education. he was going to the nhl in a few years, so why did it matter if he was smart or not? the only iq that mattered on the ice was hockey iq.

the only problem was school rules and regulations. if he wanted to continue playing on the high school hockey team, he needed to step it up academically. with a stubborn attitude, he signed up for tutoring and was assigned you as his tutor.

you were roped into becoming a tutor by both your parents and your teachers. the school was running low on anyone willing to sign up for after—school tutoring, and you needed a little extra cash.

every tuesday and thursday, you went to jack’s house and studied with him for hours. however, as days passed into weeks, you began going over to his house every day. with his charming personality and your shyness, you quickly fell into the best kind of friendship. it only took two months before you fell in love with your best friend, and you’ve held those feelings for nine years.

"y/n, i’m sorry i didn’t call before," he apologized, his face flushed. "i have a problem," he huffed out, taking a seat on your couch.

"what are you talking about?" you scratch your neck in confusion. "and did you run here?"

when you and jack both moved to new jersey, it wasn’t a surprise when you moved into apartments within six minutes of each other.

"yes, i ran here," he answered. "but that doesn’t matter. i ran into lola at a coffee shop this morning.”

lola was jack’s most recent girlfriend. that was until she broke up with him because he wasn’t mature enough. he was heartbroken and devastated, and like the good friend you are, you held him during the hard nights as he cried and ranted about how he missed her. you ended up helping him move on after a month or two, but what made him stronger only destroyed you more.

you sighed, "jack, i don’t want to hear this—"

"no, i promise this is going somewhere," he interrupted. "i saw her and we began talking about my cousin, natalie’s wedding. she’s known natalie since high school and is attending the wedding. when she said that, i got nervous and said i was also going and i was bringing you as my date."

your heart plummeted. "what?!" your eyes widened and mouth hung open.

he squinted his eyes, lips pressed tightly together. “i’m sorry.” he said with doe eyes. he knew exactly how to make you fold. “you know how she is. she was all over me and acting flirty, like she wasn’t the one to break up with me. she thinks that i’m still not over her.”

“well, are you?”

“i think so.” his voice was unsure. “will you help me, please?”

“i don’t know—”

“before you say no, remember when i drove over here at 2am with ice cream?” he says.

your shoulders slouched. “yes,” your voice was quiet.

“remember how i said you owe me one?” you shook your head as you replayed the past interaction in your head. “well, consider this me officially cashing in my favor.”

you rested your head in your hands. “what does this entail?” you asked.

his eyes lit up like a child’s on christmas day. “you pretending to be my girlfriend for a day.”

you exhaled loudly. every bone in your body was saying— screaming— no. your brain knew it wasn’t a good idea. it would only draw you deeper into jack’s web when you were beginning to unravel from it. but your heart said otherwise.

“fine.” you said as you rubbed your temples.

jack shot to his feet with a bright smile on his mouth. “yes!” his voice was an octave higher. his arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. your stiffened body molded around him.

“fuck, i love you so much for this.”

he doesn’t mean it in the way you want him to, but you’ve learned to ignore the twinge in your heart when he says those magic words.

you don’t realize how fast your heart is beating until he pulls away from the hug. your body aches for him as he removes his arms from around you.

“since, i’m already here movie night?” he asks, his brow quirking upwards.

a giggle escapes your slouched body. for the first time since he got there, you smile— genuinely. he seems to notice as well because he mirrors your features, allowing his tense shoulders to drop.

you nod, plopping down on your couch with him. you hand him the tv remote, allowing him to put on whatever action/mobster movie that he usually did. your head rests on jack’s shoulder, an intimate action that meant more to you than it did to him.

this is what you wanted. this is what you’ve wanted since ninth grade. you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted. does it matter if your relationship with him is real or not? the more you think, the bigger the pit in your stomach grows. you ignore all impending thoughts and enjoy the feeling of your head resting against the love of your life’s shoulder.

you fall asleep against jack, soft snores falling from your pouted lips. when you wake up, you’re tucked in your bed, your alarm clock reading 2:30am, and a note with jack’s sketchy handwriting on your bedside table. you smile, a content feeling masking your earlier anxieties before you fall back into a deep slumber.

after an hour of painstakingly going over wedding details and weaving elaborate fake relationship stories, a dull ache pulses behind your temples, and the confines of your clothes suddenly feel suffocating.

“are we done yet?” your voice was whiney as you dramatically sat back in your chair.

jack giggled. “who knew that relationship talk would bore you?” you rolled your eyes. “if my family wasn’t so nosey, this would be a walk in the park,” he begins, “but they are and that means we have to tie up every loose end before they ruin our entire plan.”

you groaned. “we have enough chemistry for them to believe it, jack.” you said pointedly, your leg bouncing up and down under his dining room table.

“i guess.” he shrugged a smirk on his face. “but what we have is platonic chemistry. we need romantic, honeymoon phase chemistry.”

your fingers picked at the skin around your painted nails. blood pooled in your cuticle but you paid no mind to it, subconsciously wiping it against the denim of your jeans.

every muscle in your body tensed. platonic chemistry— the only thing you and jack possess. the subtle comment twisted your stomach— the contents from the meal before threatening to spew out.

“i, uh, have to go to the bathroom.” you blurt out, quickly leaving the seat and entering into his bathroom.

his brows furrow at your abrupt exit. “ok…”

his bathroom was cold and plain. you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you swallow harshly.

why were you doing this? why put yourself through the emotional turmoil only for jack to pretend to be in love with you? were you this desperate?

you raked your brain for any coherent answer—one that you would never find.

turning on the faucet, the icy water coated your shaky hands. you splashed some water on your flushed face—good thing you wore waterproof mascara today. quickly, you patted yourself dry, hopefully appearing more relaxed than before.

as you walk back into his dining room, jack’s faint laughter fills the room. it bounces off of the walls in a symphony of beauty. you crave his laughter like a bee craves honey. jealousy courses through you as he isn’t laughing at your joke.

he sits at the table, his phone in hand as he types on his screen. his lips are pulled upwards into a boyish grin, a pink color coating the apples of his cheeks.

his gaze adverts from his phone to you as you awkwardly stand, almost as if you were waiting for his approval to sit. “sorry, it’s just lola.”

your shoulders slouch.

you’ve met lola before. she never seemed humorous to you. she couldn’t have possibly said something that funny that he’s laughing out loud.

then it all became clear. you were merely a scheme to get her back. he wasn’t over her— he never was.

“can i ask you something?” you said while sitting in the chair beside him.

“mhm.” his attention isn’t even focused on you. silently, you scoff.

“you know what, i’m just going to head home.” you said, your voice sharp. immediately, jack put down his phone.

his forehead was creased from the furrow of his brows. “are you ok?” he mirrored your actions, standing up alongside you.

you mumbled in response, collecting your things and heading towards his front door. his hand clasped against your wrist, halting your movement. you huffed, looking back at him.

“did i do something?”

“no, jack.”

“then why are you acting like this?”

“i didn’t sleep well last night. i just want to take a nap.” you said simply. his face contorted. you were never the best liar.

“worm,” the nickname rolls off of his tongue like silk, but pierces your skin like shattered glass. it was short for bookworm— something classmates would teasingly call you. you never liked it when people said it, not until jack did. “just tell me what’s wrong.”

“are you using me as a pawn to get lola?” his face paled as the words left your lips. his hands clasped into fists and he cleared his throat.

“no.” his eyes avoided yours. “why would you think that?” he asked.

“i just want to make sure that we’re still going to be friends after this.” you spoke. “after all, i don’t think lola’s going to want me to be close with you after this.”

“good thing we aren’t together anymore and it will stay like that.” he mustered up the fakest smile. “see you on saturday, yeah?”

you sighed, “yeah.”

kissing wasn’t something foreign to you. your first kiss was in tenth grade with jake hopkins. he had blue eyes, curly brunette hair, and a similar name to jack. your kiss with him was enough to distract you from jack’s newest conquest with gina— an eleventh grade blonde who resembled a real life angel. she was older, which jack didn’t always like, but he made an exception for her.

kissing was something you were used to doing. you hadn’t been in a lot of serious relationships, but you kissed people often. however, the thought that you and jack might kiss today made your stomach do a somersault. suddenly, you knew nothing about kissing. it was as foreign to you as an alien to earth.

swiping on the darker shade of lipstick, you hoped for a confidence boost. you don’t usually wear this lipstick shade. holly, your best friend and roommate, convinced you to buy the overpriced makeup a few weeks ago. she said it would make you look sexier, more mature. you wondered if jack would like this shade. lola often wore darker lipstick. it looked good on her plump lips, but maybe a little less once left on jack’s cheek. it always made you cringe when she would press her lips against his, leaving a smudged lip print. jack knew it was there and he didn’t mind. if wore it proudly like a badge of honor, not caring what teasing remarks his teammates would make.

“i can’t believe you’re doing this for him.” holly said. she was clad in your pajama bottoms and sweatshirt, sprawled out across your bed.

“well, he is my childhood best friend.” you reply as you grab towards your perfume, spraying it across your body. you stood up, looking at yourself in the full length mirror.

you wore a maroon, silk, maxi dress. it accentuated every curve on your body, fitting you like a glove. the deep colored dress was captivating with a slit going up your lower body, showcasing your legs.

holly mutters something incoherent under her breath— you can’t quite hear what she said, but you can only imagine.

“you look like a fucking goddess.” she stood next to you, holding your arm up and twirling you around. giggles escaped your lips. “i just wish you were going out with a guy who actually appreciated you. not one who used you like this.” the corners of her lips turned downwards into a frown.

you turn to respond to her, to defend jack, but as you do, the doorbell rings.

“that’s him.” you waste no time running towards the door and opening it for him. he wore a maroon tie that matched perfectly with yours, his hair touseled, and his face clean shaven.

“hi.” you smile, your eyes trailing up and down his body. he looked godlike. “you look great.”

“thank you.” his cheeks blushed red. “you look beautiful, worm. i mean it.”

your entire body felt warm. you hadn’t even touched him and yet sparks traveled through your body. he knew you were beautiful— he even thought it— but he still didn’t want you.

holly trailed behind you, watching the interaction from the kitchen. she shook her head before returning to her room.

“we should get going.” jack clears his throat.

"yeah, we should," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

jack leads you to his car, a black range rover that’s evident he takes proud in. he opens the passenger door for you, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter, and then quickly hops into the driver's seat. as he starts the engine, you can feel the tension in the air.

"so," jack begins, glancing over at you, "let's go over the details one more time."

you nod, pulling out your phone to check the notes you had made earlier. "okay, so we've been dating for six months. we’ve always had feelings for each other,, and it was kind of a whirlwind romance," you start, reading off the fabricated history you both had created.

jack smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "right, and we decided to keep it quiet because we didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"exactly," you continue, "and we've spent a lot of time together, just not always in public. but your family knows me very well, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince them."

he nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "and we're really happy together," he adds, his tone softening. "like, really happy."

your heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice. a part of you feels it’s real— though you know it's all part of the act. "yes," you agree, trying to keep your voice light. "happier than i've ever been."

jack glances over at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "you're a great actress, you know that?"

you laugh, a sound that feels both forced and genuine at the same time. "thanks."

in a way you were an actress— well, most of the time. in your everyday life with jack you played the part of a best friend who only held platonic feelings. you had mastered that part. here, now, however, there is no acting. you are entirely devoted to jack. anything you say, any touch you bestow, will be a look into your heart.

the rest of the drive, you both fall into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts. the gps guides you to a large, elegant house adorned with white ribbons and flower arrangements.

"we're here," jack says.

you take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach. "okay, let's do this."

jack steps out of the car and quickly comes around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. you take it, your fingers curling around his as you step out of the car. his touch is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, you allow yourself to savor the feeling.

as you walk towards the entrance, jack squeezes your hand gently. "ready?"

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "ready."

the moment you step inside, you're greeted by a flurry of activity. guests are milling about, chatting and laughing, the air filled with the sounds of celebration. jack's family members quickly spot you and rush over, their faces lighting up with genuine happiness.

"jack! y/n!" ellen exclaims, pulling you both into a warm hug. "it's so good to see you two together!"

you smile, slipping into the role effortlessly. "it's great to see you too," you reply, squeezing her hand.

as more family members gather around, asking questions and showering you both with affection, you can feel jack's hand on the small of your back.

throughout the evening, you and jack move seamlessly through the crowd, sharing inside jokes, laughing at shared memories, and playing the part of the perfect couple. there are moments when you catch his gaze, and for a split second, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just an act.

but then you see lola, standing across the room, her eyes locked on jack. her presence is a stark reminder of the reality of your situation. jack's smile falters for a moment when he sees her, and you can see the conflict in his eyes.

it’s not long before lola stalks over in your direction. she stands tall in a yellow maxi dress, matching with the rest of the bride's maids. the color makes her tan skin shine. she’s the epitome of sunshine.

she greets, “jack.” her gaze lingers on jack, the corners of her lips curving into a devilish smirk.

suddenly, he drops your hand. you suck in a sharp breath, looking down at his hand besides yours. his hand is flexed. you attempt to steady your breaths.

“hello, lola.” he replies. her name slides off his tongue so perfectly. he says it seductively and yearningly. his eyes brighten and cheeks gain more color. he stares at her like she hung the stars in the sky. “you remember y/n, don’t you?”

as he says your name, neither the glimmer in his eye or the blush on his cheeks intensify. it falls off his tongue in a casual way, with no clues or cliffhangers left behind.

she chuckles, the sound bouncing off of the walls and reaching your ears like both a blessing and a curse. “i remember her very well.” she doesn’t leave it there. “though, last time i saw her, she was your friend and i was your girlfriend. funny how the tables turn.”

as if on cue, both of your bodies stiffen, the action obvious enough for her to stifle out a laugh.

“calm down, i’m just joking.”

“it’s nice to see you again.” you say, ignoring the burning sensation in your stomach. she looks you up and down, a look of indifference placed on her perfect face.

it’s almost like she can read you. she looks so majestic, you wouldn’t put it past her to behold a supernatural ability.

“it’s a pleasure to see you always, y/n.” she grins. in the background, the dj changes the upbeat music to a slower, romantic song. the atmosphere around you shifts to the music. “slow dances are starting! i want to see you love birds on the dance floor.” her comment comes out snarky, but jack is too captivated by her to notice.

lola’s small figure disappears in the sea of people on the makeshift dance floor.

“wanna dance, worm?” jack asks with a sly grin. his hand picks up yours again.

“i thought you’d never offer.”

he tugs at your hand, pulling you towards an open spot on the dance floor. as you step onto the dance floor with jack, the soft melody of lover by taylor swift fills your ears. jack's hand feels warm and reassuring in yours, but as you glance up at him, you can't shake the thought of how he dropped your hand.

"this song... it reminds me of lola," jack murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. “it’s stupid, but this song was playing when we met, so it’s always resonated with her.”

you nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "yeah, i can see why. it's a beautiful song," you reply, trying to mask the ache in your chest.

it was like the universe was playing a prank on you. lover was your song, not theirs. the second it was released you fell in love with it. it was the very song you listened to when you still had hopes of a relationship with jack.

as you dance, jack's gaze keeps drifting towards where lola dances. she sways back and forth with the groom’s best man. everytime she laughs, jack’s jaw clenches.

you try to push aside the rising tide of emotion, focusing instead on the feel of jack's arms around you and the gentle sway of your bodies. but with each passing moment, the resentment grows, threatening to consume you from within.

“jack, can you at least pretend you want to be here with me?” your voice was sharp.

pity spread on his face like a wildfire. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s fine.” you mutter through your teeth.

he didn’t respond, although the dim glimmer in his eyes revealed his guilt.

from the outside looking in, this seemed like a romantic, loving dance between the perfect couple. but that couldn’t have been more wrong.

as the song comes to an end, you reluctantly pull away from jack, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of hurt and anger. "you lied to me, jack." you accuse, your voice barely above a whisper.

jack's expression softens, his eyes clouded with regret. "y/n, i'm sorry," he begins, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

"i don't want to hear it," you say, your voice trembling with emotion. "i thought... i thought you cared about me. the only reason i’m here is to make her jealous.”

jack reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away, your heart heavy with disappointment. "i know," he says softly, "and i'm sorry. i just... i can't help how i feel."

you take a step back, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. "i understand," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.”

“you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me, y/n. we’re only friends.”

the words hit you hard because it’s the truth. you and jack are only friends.

with that, you turn and walk away. you hear jack yelling your name as he races after you, but you ignore it. you get as far as the parking lot before his hand clasps around yours, pulling you back into his chest.

“what do you want?” you shouted. “what do you want from me, jack?”

“i don’t know.” he admits.

“exactly.” you point your finger at him. “you don’t know what you want, so you play with my feelings; you manipulate me; you flirt with me, tell me you love me, but then somehow remind me that we’re only friends.”

he stands there, speechless and guilty. his gaze stays glued to the concrete.

you let out a sharp, bitter laugh, your eyes flashing with anger. “you’ve known this entire time that i love you, and you still invited me here.” your eyes are dark with rage. “you have known your motive since before we got here and completely disregarded how it would break me.”

“worm,” he softens his voice.

“don’t call me that.”

“c’mon, don’t be like this.” he says. his hand reaches out to intertwine with yours, but you pull away.

“jack, i would do anything for you unbiased to my feelings because i thought you cared.” your voice grows weaker. tears flood your eyes and stream down your face. “but now i’m seeing the real you and it fucking sucks.”

you step back from jack, tears streaming down your face, as he stands there speechless, his guilt palpable in the air. the weight of his actions hangs heavy between you.

"i hope you're happy now because you have finally pushed me away," you choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. “goodbye, jack.” with that, you turn and walk away, leaving jack standing in the parking lot, his mouth hanging agape.

as you make your way to the street, you pull out your phone and quickly hail an uber. the car arrives, and you climb in.

as the car pulls away from the curb, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. you did the unthinkable.

you untangled yourself from jack’s web.

#nora’s writings 💐#jack hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines #nhl imagine

404 notes · View notes