#i need to talk about the funny little guys who are running around in my head rent free | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonjayke · 17 days ago

Text

Yang Jungwon — TRULY MADLY DEEPLY

You are a free spirit, untamed and adventurous. Jungwon is methodical, disciplined and completely predictable. Complete opposites, an unlikely match, Jungwon did not expect his existence would fascinate you, the troublemaker of his course.

PAIRING: — Good boy Jungwon x Bad Girl / Troublemaker Reader (f)

GENRE: fluff, super suggestive, smutyish (kinda), college au, good boy × bad girl trope (we love), strangers to friends to lovers.

WARNINGS: heavy making out, double meaning jokes, mentions of alcohol, skinship, reader falls first Jungwon falls harder, very suggestive in the end but overall fluff.

WC: 10.8k — masterlist

— Author Note: Since I had this idea with Jungwon I couldn't help but write for the last 3 days, he's been wrecking me so bad lately lol. It's my first work with Jungwon and it's a bit longer than my other works, but it's totally worth it. Also, I've been thinking of making a tag list for future works, if you want to be added please comment below. Hope you guys like it, If there are any errors please lmk.

The loud music in the house made Jungwon's eardrums tremble, the number of people increasing by the minute seemed to be slightly suffocating and the drink in his glass was already running low. Jungwon didn't have the habit of going to many parties, he was a little more reserved and liked to be that way. However, he made a few exceptions when Jay invited him saying that it would be legendary.

This time was no different, another party at Jake's house that Jay insisted would be legendary and Jungwon should go to meet more people. Not that Jungwon didn't have many friends, but Jay was way more sociable than him, so he always had someone new to introduce.

As he watched Ni-ki do a funny dance in the middle of the living room, he sat down on the couch that was miraculously free and picked up his phone. He had barely been there for an hour and was already wondering if he should have come.

“I can’t believe you’re already on your phone.” Jungwon looked at Jay, who was in front of him with a look of disbelief. “I’m enjoying the party,” Jungwon replied, “admiring Ni-ki’s beautiful moves.” His tone was laced with sarcasm.

“Man, you need to socialize more like actually talking to people.” Jay sat down next to him sighing “I’ve already met a lot of people thanks to you, thank you very much.” Jungwon saw how the room seemed even more crowded than it had been a few minutes ago.

“You’re impossible,” Jay shook his head negatively, “but at least try to enjoy the food and drinks, Jake chose the best ones.” Jungwon nodded and looked at his own glass, seeing that he would need to refill it soon. “Okay.” He had already passed his final exams so he would try to enjoy this night without thinking too much about studying.

“I'm going to get another drink, do you want one too?” Jay stood up asking uncertainly and Jungwon shook his head, clutching his red cup “I'll finish this one first.” He raised the cup, and Jay gave a side smile “Okay, bro. I'll be right back.”

Jungwon leaned his back against the back of the sofa and turned his gaze to the dance floor that had formed in the center of the room. While trying not to laugh at Jake and Ni-ki having the most hilarious dance battle in the world, his attention was diverted when he felt someone sit down next to him, a sweet scent exuding along with a loud laugh.

He turned around and saw you. Your hair was loose, with a glass in your hand and a – he squinted in the dark lighting and saw a – lollipop – in the other hand. The dark red leather jacket was extremely tight around your waist, contrasting with your black jeans.

“Wow, these guys are hilarious, right?” You commented as if you knew him while Jungwon was still staring at you “Yeah.” He replied automatically and you looked back at him, making him feel embarrassed.

Your eyes scanned his clothes, a perfectly plain dark blue sweatshirt over a white long-sleeved shirt, a thin gray necklace contrasting with his perfectly parted hair. His face was in perfect condition, practically sober. You bit your lower lip trying to contain a smile as you realized that he was clearly one goody two-shoes guy who must have been forced to be there by some friend.

“And why are you sitting here?” You asked curiously, moving closer and Jungwon moved back a little, surprised at how straightforward you were. “I’m enjoying the party.” He replied, looking away and you smiled a little, seeing his reactions.

“Enjoying the party while sitting down?” You raised your eyebrows. Your question made Jungwon run his hand through his hair lightly and give you a closed lip smile “Yeah, something like that.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you realized how right you were about your assumptions. He really was one goody two-shoes guy.

A very cute goody two-shoes.

Your curiosity grew when you realized that he couldn't hold your gaze for long. Ideas began to appear in your mind in a catabolic way while Jungwon remained looking at his cell phone, and then at the track, trying to distract himself.

“Maybe you should try dancing too.” Jungwon looked at you again, giving you a sarcastic smirk and you couldn’t help but notice his small dimple forming. “I can’t dance.” He replied, staring at you as you sucked on the lollipop. “Neither can I, but these are things we do for fun.” He saw your hands searching for something in your pants pockets. “It’s like eating candy while drinking, I know it probably cuts the effect of alcohol, but it’s cool at a party.” Jungwon saw you pull a lollipop out of your pocket and offer it to him. “For you, try it.”

'This girl is weird' was the first thing he thought before taking the candy as you stared at him shamelessly. He felt aware of your gaze and felt his cheeks suddenly heat up.

He wasn't used to interacting with many girls, especially girls who were strangely direct like you.

“Don’t put it away, you have to try it now.” Jungwon was almost putting the candy away when you came closer and held his forearm, making him nervous. He was already in the corner of the couch so he couldn’t move away any further. “O-Okay .” He quickly replied, opening the candy, trying not to look at you.

'Why does she stay so close?' he thought before putting the lollipop in his mouth and you pulled away slightly and clapped your hands slowly, satisfied with Jungwon's reactions. "So? Isn't it good?" You asked and he just nodded without saying a word.

“You’re kind of shy, aren’t you?” Jungwon noticed how you leaned back against the couch, your arm resting on the backrest as your temples brushed against the fingers of your hand. “What’s your name?”

Jungwon had a small internal debate as to why you seemed so interested in talking to him, but decided to introduce yourself anyway. “Jungwon, what’s yours?” He asked and you gave him an excited smile. “Jungwon... that’s a cool name.” You said, lost in thought. “You can create many nicknames. Jungwonie, Jungie, Won...”

With each version of his name being said, Jungwon was sure that you were clearly different from anyone he had ever met. A little crazy, but interesting at the same time. “AH! Wonie too!” Your gaze met his “Well, Jungwon, my name is y/n.” You finally introduced yourself “Nice to meet you, let’s get along well.” You took a sip of your drink, raising the glass like a greeting, making him think that the alcohol was probably cooperating with your actions.

“Sure.” He replied, thinking that your name seemed relatively ordinary compared to your over-the-top personality.

Your little interaction being interrupted by Jay who arrived and gave you both an excited smile “Oh? y/n? I see you finally met my friend Jungwon.”

Jungwon sighed. Of course you know Jay, now everything made sense.

“Hey Jay, it’s been a while.” You saluted Jay and looked at Jungwon. “Yeah, Jungwon is a really nice guy.” Jay noticed how you were looking at Jungwon curiously. “If I knew he was this cute, I would have met him sooner.”

Jungwon swore he felt his whole body stiffen. Did you just call him cute? The tips of Jungwon's ears turned red and you couldn't help but enjoy teasing the boy.

He completely fascinated you.

“Oh?” Jay gave a smirk “It’s because he doesn’t go out that much.” Jay walked towards the couch and you stood up at the same time “I figured.” Jungwon watched you walk “Well boys, now I have to go, but it was great seeing you again Jay,” You turned to Jungwon with a mischievous smile “And it was wonderful meeting you, Jungwonie.” You teased him and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck and nodding.

“See ya.” You gave one last smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Jay looked at Jungwon, laughing at the interaction he just witnessed, and sat down next to him. “I see I interrupted something.” Jay gave a teasing smile, nudging him with his shoulder and Jungwon sighed running his hand over his face “Man, I need another drink.”

Jungwon was relieved to think that he didn't have to worry about seeing you again as this would probably be the only and craziest interaction he would have with you.

That's what he thought.

The week had already started again and Jungwon had arrived early for class as usual. He methodically placed the materials on the table, checking if he had forgotten anything and smiled with satisfaction to see that everything was okay. He opened the laptop, turning it on as the teacher arrived in the room preparing the class material.

Jungwon was extremely responsible with his academic life, always being punctual and completing his assignments on time. He felt good about getting good grades at university and achieving all the goals he set for the future.

For Jungwon, there was nothing better than predictability and discipline in life.

As the teacher taught the class, Jungwon typed up notes on the topic, completely focused on the subject. Before he could write down the last topic spoken, his attention was snatched by your arrival, sitting next to him panting as if you had run a marathon.

“Am I late?” You asked in a whisper and his eyes widened in shock, staring at you in complete disbelief.

“y/n??? What are you doing here?” He asked, completely flabbergasted by the sight of you putting your backpack on your feet and a notebook on the table. The fact that you approached him to the point of sitting next to him as if you were great acquaintances was simply shocking to Jungwon.

You looked at him smiling, getting closer to him. “What do you mean, silly?” Jungwon’s stomach turned at your voice so close to his ear. “We’re on the same major.”

If he already thought you were crazy before, now, he was sure.

Jungwon didn't usually memorize the faces of everyone he had classes with, but he doesn't remember seeing you in any class before. How was it possible that you had the same classes, and your presence had gone unnoticed? You were like a hurricane that arrived and caught everyone's attention.

“I’ve never seen you in this class before.” He answers quietly, turning his attention back to the teacher’s explanation. “That’s because I sit in the back, Jungwonie.” You replied, poking his cheek with your index finger, making him give you a deadly look that amused you.

Teasing Jungwon has officially become one of your favorite hobbies.

“y/n, I need to focus on this class.” He said seriously and you smiled sideways “Sorry, I’ll let you study.” You straightened up and decided to write in your notebook while Jungwon sighed, running his fingers over his eyebrow .

'Is this a dream?' He wondered internally as he gave you quick, surreptitious glances at how you wrote things in such a messy pattern that it made him want to correct everything into an organized bulleted summary.

No margins, paragraphs or spaces. You simply wrote the way it came to your mind.

“You know Jungwon, you get super hot when you get serious like this.” Jungwon looked at you shocked again by your words taking away all the little focus he had. His ears and cheeks were clearly red. A heat rising up his neck.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind crazy?” He whispered back with a disbelieving look that amused you deeply. “Yep, I’ve heard it many times, I’m aware of it.”

Your smile intrigued him. How could someone act like that after just one interaction at a party? He sighed and turned away, trying to ignore your presence, even though he knew it would be impossible.

“This subject is important, it will be on the next tests.” He commented one last time trying to make you focus on the teacher and not on his profile.

“Okay, I’ll pay attention.” Your posture now resembled his, looking straight ahead, focusing on absolutely everything the teacher was saying.

After a few minutes, since Jungwon didn't say anything else, you felt curious and took the opportunity to watch how he typed on his laptop. The veins that ran from his forearm to his hands distracting you. You couldn't resist and sat a little further to the right, slowly approaching him until you could see the screen of his laptop, admiring how he managed to write everything down in such an organized way.

Your scent invaded Jungwon's senses, making him turn around slowly and be caught off guard by your face so close and move away again. "What are you doing?" He asked, seeing how you seemed to be practically glued to his side. "I'm seeing how you take your notes." He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw that you were chewing gum. "They're very organized."

He nodded and decided to ignore what you were doing and try to focus on what he was writing again. “You should do the same.” An idea popped into your head and you smiled. “I think you could teach me.” He scrunched his face at the suggestion. “No thank you, I pass.” He sighed seeing that the last few topics were incomplete due to the distraction that was your presence.

“Geez Jungwonie, don’t be so mean.” Jungwon jumped when he felt you quickly touch his left knee before crossing your arms and staring at him “I want to be a good student.”

“Then start paying attention in class and stop talking.” He gently brought his laptop more to his side and nodded at the teacher with his head.

You pouted playfully, but then smiled, enjoying how Jungwon seemed more expressive than he had been at the party.

Jungwon was more fun than you thought.

The rest of the class you decided to stay quiet and pay attention to what the teacher was saying. Jungwon, on the other hand, had his mind full, wondering how you could be like that. Even though you stayed quiet for the rest of the class, the fact that you were standing next to him and occasionally glancing at his summary to get an idea of what to write in yours took all of his attention away.

When class time ended, he mentally thanked himself that those minutes of mental torture were over. Your presence made him more nervous than any bad joke Jay ever told in his life.

“Jungwon, I loved sitting next to you, let’s do it more often.” You said and he sighed, feeling an absurd mental fatigue. “I hope not.” You laughed at his sincerity and pinched his cheek before grabbing your bag to leave. “Bye, wonie!” Every time you said a nickname for Jungwon, he felt a shiver run through his body.

He had no idea why you seemed so interested in him, but he knew your presence messed with his focus and he needed to be careful about that.

“Man, it’s been so hot lately.” Jake commented, fanning himself with his shirt as he and Jungwon walked towards a drink machine near the dorm. “It’s becoming unbearable.”

“I agree, I get thirsty all the time.” Jungwon stood in front of the machine pondering what he would choose to drink.

Jake chose a soda while Jungwon chose a natural orange juice “Nothing better than a cold drink to cool down.” Jake commented and Jungwon laughed as they walked to the campus building, but they stopped on the way when Jake pointed to a girl walking with an old lady by your side “Hey, isn't that y/n?”

Jungwon looked in the direction Jake was pointing and paid attention to the scene.

You were helping an old lady cross the street while she held onto your arm. Your smile was big as you interacted with the old lady. “Do you know her?” Jungwon asked and Jake nodded “She’s kind of peculiar, but she’s nice.” He replied and Jungwon watched the scene as you left the old lady in a safe place and then ran back to campus.

“She’s definitely peculiar.” Jungwon replied, continuing to walk with Jake before hearing you call his name “Jungwon!!”

You waved from afar and the boys watched you slowly approach. “What a coincidence to find you here.” You commented and Jungwon continued drinking his juice “We take the same course, it’s not that much of a coincidence.” He responded by turning his head to the side and you laughed at his answer.

“Indeed, you’re right. But it’s always good to see you.” You replied, making him look away and turned to Jake. “It’s nice to see you too, Jake.”

Jake chuckled “That’s good to know. Were you helping that old lady?” He asked, and you put your hands in the pockets of your jeans nodding your head “She seemed to be having trouble crossing the street, so I wanted to help her.” You commented, and he smiled “It’s nice how you took time to help her.”

“That’s what anyone should do.” You replied and turned to Jungwon “And you Jungwonie, where are you going?” He, who had been silent this whole time, looked at you confused “I’m going to the next class...” He commented as if it was an obvious thing that you should know since it was class time.

“Oh, you’re so disciplined Jungwon, I also have a class now, but I think I’ll go out for some ice cream since it’s so hot.” You replied as you stretched slightly “You’re going to ditch class?!” Jungwon widened his eyes in disbelief and you laughed “Relax, it’s an extra class that doesn’t have mandatory attendance.” Jungwon sighed at your response “Still...”

Jake was silently watching the interaction and Jungwon and chuckled when he realized the interesting mood between you two.

“Anyway, I have to go now. See you guys around.” You replied by waving goodbye with your right hand and left in the opposite direction, making Jungwon run his hand through his hair, shaking his head negatively.

“She’s so weird...” He spoke softly, but Jake laughed, putting his arm on Jungwon’s shoulder. “And what was this atmosphere between you two?” His friend asked, moving his eyebrows mischievously.

“What atmosphere?” Jungwon replied, walking ahead and Jake following behind. “Come on man, I could feel the sparks flowing between you two.” His friend said teasingly.

Jungwon sighed, deciding to ignore Jake's comment. "Let's go, I don't want to be late for class."

Jake just smirked and followed Jungwon "Alright sir, I'm coming."

It was late at night when Jungwon was in his room sitting at his desk, making his plan for the next weeks. He separated the curriculum for each subject and organized the subjects by day so he could get ahead and study in advance.

He contently smiled when he finally organized everything in his digital planner and could start to get ahead with all the subjects without stress for the next few days.

As he turned off his laptop, his thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone vibrated on the table and the screen lit up. He was surprised to see that he had received a message from an unknown number at this time of night, since his friends knew that he usually went to bed early.

When he unlocked his phone to check the messages he received, Jungwon couldn't believe what appeared in front of his eyes.

[Unknown] — Good night, Jungwonie.

[Unknown] — Are you awake?

22:31 pm

‘It couldn't be.’

[Jungwon] — How did you get my number?

22:32 pm

Read.

It seemed like an endless cycle, when he thought he was at peace, you appeared out of nowhere taking away all the focus he had.

He stared impatiently at his cell phone, seeing that you'd read the message and hadn't replied, making him anxious. His heart began to beat faster with the fright he got when his cell phone started ringing, and he saw that you were calling him.

Awkwardly he tried to lower the volume of the ringing that broke the silence in his room.

He could ignore you, block you and simply pretend nothing happened, but something inside him couldn't resist the curiosity he felt if he answered. What would be the reason for your call?

He struggled for a few seconds before accepting the call and putting the phone to his ear and hearing your voice on the other end.

"Oh? You answered Jungwon, I thought you were going to ignore me." Your warm laugh tickled Jungwon's ear. "You didn't answer my question." His voice came out a little more serious than he intended.

"Oh, it was really easy, I asked Jay to give me your number because I wanted to talk to you." The sound of your breathing getting louder because the microphone was closer to your mouth.

'Of course it was Jay.' He thought looking at the ceiling.

"So? What do you want to talk about?" Jungwon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking about what would be so important that you would get his number and call him late at night.

"Well, I was feeling so lonely, so I thought about you and decided to call you." Jungwon's cheeks heated up at the way you said it, even though it didn't have the double meaning that crossed his mind.

"So, basically, you just wanted to call to pass the time?" He wanted to confirm his suspicion, and you laughed "That's right!"

"Haa..." He let out a laugh through his nose and you managed to catch it over the phone "You're laughing now, aren't you?" Your voice sounded excited "I can't believe I'm not there to see your smile in person."

Jungwon decided to get up from his chair and go lie down on his bed, ignoring the whirlwind of sensations that always arose every time he interacted with you.

He couldn't understand how you managed to keep him hooked with your unexpected actions. Maybe it was the curiosity he felt about what kind of person you were and why you acted that way.

"You don't make any sense," He replied looking at the ceiling placing his arm over his forehead "shouldn't you go to sleep if you're bored? It's already late."

You laughed, amused by Jungwon's authoritative tone. He was so prudent.

"Jungwon, when I'm bored, I don't sleep, I do something to have fun." He closed his eyes again as he listened to you "And it's not even that late." You replied and he sighed feeling tiredness hit him "For me it is." Jungwon slept early, his sleep was sacred.

"Well then, let's talk until you fall asleep." You said and he thought how weird that was.

Never in his entire life had he stayed on the phone with someone until he fell asleep, this was completely new to him.

"I'm an easy sleeper, so you'll probably be talking to yourself soon." He didn't deny the proposal, but he didn't want to give in so easily. He knew you'd do whatever you wanted anyway.

You chuckled, "Hmm, that's fine by me." The way your voice seemed sweet despite the joking tone made Jungwon wonder how he ended up in this situation.

As you talked about random things and funny stories from your adventures, Jungwon, who was listening intently, felt his eyes grow heavy. He vaguely remembered you talking about running away from the police and how you had a pet rabbit that ran away before falling fast asleep.

"And then he said— Won?" You giggled when you heard his soft breathing on the other end and no response. "Have sweet dreams." You wished him hanging up the call, letting Jungwon rest for now.

Jungwon was coming back from the library when he saw you from afar and started to wonder when your presence started to become normal in his daily life. You started to sit next to him when you had classes together, but now you let him focus better. He was also used to it when you talked to him in the hallways or sent him a picture of something completely random during the week.

Little by little he was no longer scared when you appeared out of nowhere, but despite being so present, you had the gift of mysteriously disappearing, and he realized that he didn't know much about you other than the barbaric stories you told him.

As he walked to the classroom you stopped him in his tracks with a suspicious smile. Jungwon looked at you curiously wondering what you were planning this time.

“Good morning, Jungwonie. Where are you going?” Jungwon looked at you, noticing how different you looked today, wearing a black denim skirt and a white turtleneck while drinking strawberry milk. You looked almost angelic.

“To class, as always.” He replied, taking a step back as you approached him.

“So, I have an idea.” Jungwon eyed you suspiciously “I’m afraid of your ideas.” He replied, making you laugh and pull him by the shirt to speak in a lower tone “Let’s skip class.” You whispered, and Jungwon sighed “Are you out of your mind?” He decided to ignore you and keep walking, but you stopped in front of him again “Hear me out!! It would only be today, and you’re already advanced in the subject. One class wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Jungwon looked up at the lights on the ceiling wondering why he was still listening to you. Clearly you had ideas that involved - not being responsible - with college.

“And what are you planning?” He asked and you smiled seeing that he didn’t deny the idea immediately.

“It’s a surprise.” You grabbed Jungwon’s sleeve and he shook his head “Absolutely not.” He looked at you and noticed that you didn’t have a backpack “You didn’t even come with a backpack? Were you already planning this?”

“Jungwon, I promise it will be fun, pretty pleeease, just for today!” You pulled his hand, and his eyes widened “You won’t fail for missing a single class, you know that.”

He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he debated internally about what to do. If it were the old days, he would have refused and gone to class immediately, but now he was actually debating whether or not to skip class.

Jungwon picked up his cell phone and saw that the next class would be a subject he was good at. “I can only miss the next class, then I have to come back.” He looked back at you, biting his lip anxiously, and you gave him a blinding smile.

“You’re going to love it, Jungwonie!” You intertwined your fingers with his hand and pulled him out of the college, making Jungwon’s heart suddenly race at the contact.

'What the hell am I doing?' He thought in disbelief that he would actually skip class just because you suggested it.

☆

Jungwon stared at you silently, watching you play with a cat on your lap. Apparently, your big idea was to skip class to go to a cat cafe near campus, because according to you, it would be easier for Jungwon to get back to his next class.

It was funny how you showed a new side of yourself every time Jungwon interacted with you. A part of him didn't want to admit it, but he was having fun. The day was peaceful and the cats in the place were super docile.

“Do you like cats?” He asked as a kitten snuggled into his lap. “I never thought much about it, but they’re cute.” You replied seeing how relaxed Jungwon looked.

You looked at him with a side smile, noticing how he looked away. His reactions always amuse you to the extreme. How could he be so cute? Your desire to tease him grew even more.

Jungwon lowered his gaze and stroked the head of the cat that slept on his lap.

“You look like a cat.” You said out of nowhere and he looked at you quickly “A cat? Why?” He asked and you got closer “Because you’re cute and serious.”

Jungwon's cheeks heated up when he saw how you were staring at him. “You know what? I guess I really like cats.” You teased him and laughed, watching as he gave you an awkward smile. His little dimple showed, and you held yourself back from touching his face.

Looking at the time on his phone, Jungwon saw that it was almost time to leave. The kitten that was on his lap woke up, stretched and slowly left, making Jungwon get up.

Jungwon offered his hand so you could stand up, since you were wearing a skirt. You noticed his kind gesture and gave a sincere smile, thinking how considerate he was, even though you disturbed him daily.

“I really enjoyed hanging out with you, Jungwon.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes as you stood up straight. Jungwon nodded, giving you a tight smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, it was nice.” Was all he said before turning to leave the place.

You let go of Jungwon’s hand and followed him in a comfortable walk back to campus. Even though you were silent, Jungwon’s presence alone was extremely comforting, and you had already teased him enough that day.

Deep down, he didn't want to come back to campus, but he wouldn't admit it.

You were finishing washing the cups when you heard the noise of the cafe door opening. Your eyes saw that it was Heeseung arriving late with a smile on his face “Sorry I'm late, thanks for saving me once again.” He commented as you took off your apron and handed it to him.

“You owe me one. This is the fourth time I’ve covered your emergency shift.” You stretched as you watched the night begin to draw in through the cafe window. Every now and then, you would do favors for Heeseung, partly because he was your best friend, but also because he always helped you out when you were in trouble.

“Here, to make it up to you.” You looked at two tickets in Heeseung’s hand “It’s an underground rock band. They’re playing later.” Your friend looked at you mischievously “You can go with Jungwon.” He whispered, making you quickly grab the tickets, seeing the band’s name.

You looked at him suspiciously at the mention of Jungwon's name. Ever since Heeseung saw you laughing on your phone while talking to Jungwon, he never missed an opportunity to tease you.

Even though the time was a little late, you smirked thinking about the vision of going to a concert with Jungwon in the early hours of the morning.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea.

“You’re a genius, Heeseung! Thank you!!” You grabbed your bag and left the place.

☆

Jungwon was in a deep sleep when he woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He rubbed his eyes, trying to read the name on the screen and saw that it was you. 'Of course it's her.' Sliding his finger across the screen, he answered while yawning slightly “Hello?”

“Jungwonieeee, were you sleeping?” Your loud voice made Jungwon move the phone slightly away from his ear “I was.” He turned on the light in the room trying to get rid of the rest of the sleep he had “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your sleep, but I have an invitation to make.”

“What is it?” Jungwon sighed, knowing he wouldn’t escape whatever you were planning.

“Let’s go out now.” You said directly, “My friend Heeseung gave me two tickets for a concert later, we need to go.”

Heeseung? Jungwon turned his head to the side at the mention of the boy. He remembered seeing him before at a few parties, but never interacted with him enough. A strange feeling formed in the pit of Jungwon's stomach, but he decided to ignore it.

“y/n, I should be sleeping.” He sighed, scratching his head as he looked at the schedule. “And we have class tomorrow! It’s still Wednesday.” You laughed at Jungwon’s worried tone.

“No problem, breakfast tomorrow is on me.” Jungwon was silent for a moment. “Is the place far?” He asked, getting out of bed. “Noo, it’s really close.” You cheered up seeing that Jungwon was interested “Come on, it’ll be cool.” Your voice seemed more seductive than usual at that moment.

“Okay, send me the location.” He said and you laughed “Silly, I’m already waiting for you in front of your building.” He widened his eyes and opened the curtain of the bedroom window seeing nothing on the street “I’m just kidding.”

Your laughter made him smile unexpectedly. “You’re impossible.” He headed towards the bathroom, knowing he would have to take a shower and get ready at the last minute.

“I send you the location, byee Jungwonie!!” You hung up, and Jungwon decided to get ready for yet another adventure you got him into.

☆

You were standing outside the bar where the concert would take place when you saw Jungwon arriving. Your eyes widened when you saw how much more handsome he looked than usual. He was wearing a black tank top with dark jeans and a leather jacket that adorned him perfectly.

When he gave a slight smile, running his hand through his hair, you felt a heat rise up your neck. He was so hot.

“Heyy, Jungwonie.” You pushed yourself off the wall and walked towards Jungwon. “So, you really came, huh?”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He stepped closer and you nodded with a small chuckle “Of course.”

He saw the door and stood beside you. “So, shall we go in?” You asked, and he nodded.

The night was just beginning.

The place was surprisingly full, with many people bumping into each other and Jungwon instinctively took your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the place. The band was finishing adjusting the instruments on stage when you reached a good position to see the stage.

“Are you a fan of this band?” Jungwon asked beside you and you laughed “I’ve never heard of them in my entire life.” Jungwon leaned down slightly to hear you. Your whisper made him bite his lips trying not to laugh.

Going to a rock concert of a band you didn't know on a random Wednesday was so you.

“You're funny.” He spoke lowly, but you heard it anyway. The loud sounds of the instruments made your voices almost inaudible.

As the band began to perform their opening sets, Jungwon was thinking about how crazy this all was. He was at a bar, in the middle of the week, to see a show because you called him.

In a way, in the last few weeks, he had been living a lot more since he met you, but at the same time, it was scary. It was distant from everything he had planned, and it made him wary.

You were like a breeze that suddenly appeared when the sun was too hot, but at the same time disappeared just as quickly. Even though you had built a kind of friendship, he still wanted to know your dreams, more of your story... he simply wanted to know more about you.

His train of thought was interrupted when he saw that the place started to get crowded, and some guys started pushing you. Instinctively, he stood behind you, giving the rude guys a deadly glare.

You could tell he wanted to protect you, but he was too shy to touch you. His hands were in the air around you, and you smiled, pulling his hands to your waist. Jungwon was caught off guard, seeing you turn slightly to say something, “What a gentleman...” Your smile distracted Jungwon “That’s better.” He nodded, feeling his ears heat up.

When the show started, you didn't talk much, but you laughed a lot because you took the opportunity to scream when everyone else screamed and clapped madly at the end of each song. Jungwon would pull you into his chest occasionally when he saw that someone wanted to cross in front of you and you knew you made the right decision to invite him out.

☆

When the concert ended, Jungwon thought that he wanted to enjoy it more. As much as it was fun, you couldn't talk much because of the volume of the instruments.

“So Jungwonie, did you like it?” You asked as you walked down the street with him. “I liked it. It was very different from the concerts I’ve been to before.” Jungwon put his hands in his pants pockets as you both went to a part of the city that didn’t have many people at that time.

You walked up some steps that led to a small park that had a beautiful view of a part of the city. The place was empty, and Jungwon sat next to you on a small bench there.

“You know, I really admire you Jungwon.” You confessed as you looked at the moon that it looked particularly beautiful that night. “Why?” He asked curiously.

“You seem to have everything in order. You’re always so organized, I bet you have everything planned.” He looked at you intently. This time you were being sincere, as if you wanted to vent about something. “In a way, yes, but it requires a lot of sacrifices, so it’s not that simple.” Jungwon sighed, knowing all the daily sacrifices he makes for his goals.

“I wish I was like that,” You gave a sad smile. “It’s like I can’t follow through on the goals I set for myself.” Jungwon was silent for a moment, thinking about what to say. “I know we’re very different, but everyone has felt lost at some point in their lives.” You looked at him, seeing how kind his expression was. “Until you find your focus, it’s okay to fail and try again.”

You looked away, feeling your eyes water slightly. Maybe you just needed to hear that.

“And personally speaking,” He cleared his throat, “I also wish I could be a little freer like you, but it’s not easy for me.” You looked at him in surprise. Jungwon didn’t seem like the type of person to say something like that directly. “I like being disciplined, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go out for a few days.” He gave a wry smile, scratching the back of his neck, and you laughed.

“Well, I told you it would be cool.” You laughed, standing up from the bench. “You’re actually a pretty nice guy, Jungwon.” Your gaze lingered on Jungwon’s figure who looked like an angel under the moonlight. “I hope you don’t change.”

Jungwon gave a cute smile that made you want to hug him “I promise I won’t.” He replied, standing up too “Now let’s go, because tomorrow you’ll pay for breakfast.” He went ahead and you laughed “Hey! Wait for me!”

And so, you had a peaceful walk back to the dorm in a wonderful mood that you both didn't want to end.

Jungwon didn't know how you ended up in his room, but you were there.

You looked around the room, analyzing each decoration and Jungwon felt aware of your presence. Everything was meticulously organized just as you expected.

Jungwon wasn't one to have a lot of things. He was a believer in necessary minimalism. His desk had only a few notebooks and books neatly stacked, a simple closet, and his bed had a dark blue sheet neatly folded.

His room was very clean, and you smiled seeing how he had a small frame with a family photo and some keychains next to it.

"Your room is nice..." You turned to Jungwon seeing how tense he looked. "It's just like you." He gave an awkward smile and looked away. "It's pretty plain, but I like it."

You approached slowly with your hands behind your back "Jungwon, I'm curious..." Jungwon looked at you, feeling his stomach churn "About what?"

Your gaze was firmly fixed on the boy who had rosy cheeks watching every step you took.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Jungwon almost choked on your question as you ran your fingers down his shirt. “Be honest.”

He swallowed hard and looked away, "Y-Yes." You smiled, grabbing his chin and turning his gaze back to you, "You know, Jungwon, you're so cute." He took a step back and you got even closer.

"I like that." Your hands touched Jungwon's chest, who felt the back of his calf touch his bed. He walked backwards so much that he ended up sitting on his own bed, seeing you in front of him with an amused smile.

Your makeup was beautiful, your cheeks were flushed and your lips looked softer than usual. Jungwon couldn't speak at the sight, his heart racing at the way you bent down to be in his line of sight.

Jungwon was sweating, feeling a sudden heat rise through his body. He moved away slightly, leaning on his hands, unable to say a word.

This was wrong. He wasn't the kind of guy to take girls to his room, but he couldn't resist you. He knew he should probably be nice and find a way to get you out safely, but he couldn't say a word.

Not when you were climbing on top of him without any warning. Jungwon's breath hitched as you ran your hands down his chest, your face close to his.

He looked away and you giggled. "Have you done this before?" Jungwon felt a shiver run through his body when he heard your voice whispering in his ear. "Yes." He spoke quickly and you arched an eyebrow. What a surprise.

You chuckled, your breath fanning his face. You pulled his face up by his chin to face him, your thumb going up to Jungwon's mouth. “You have pretty lips." You whispered as you slid your finger across his bottom lip. "You too." He replied, staring at you.

You were surprised by his answer and gave a mischievous smile. Jungwon gasped when he felt your full weight on his lap, his heart was beating so hard with so much nervousness that he could only swallow dryly waiting for your next steps.

Your left hand was holding his shoulder, and you had such a deep gaze that he felt hypnotized. He would do anything you wanted if you kept looking at him like that.

With both hands you pushed his coat back, taking it off. He threw the coat to another corner while you noticed how red his ears were.

"Jungwonie," you called out to him and he looked at you eagerly "do you want to touch me?" Your question made Jungwon feel butterflies in his stomach. If you could read his mind right now you would know that was all he could think about right now.

"Yes." He sighed, closing his eyes as he felt your lips place a kiss on the corner of his neck.

Your hands pulled his hands to your hips. “You can.” He tentatively moved his hands from your hips to your waist, swallowing hard when you moved closer.

Your hands touched his cheeks, bringing his face closer to yours. He looked into your eyes, and you smiled, touching your noses. You were so close he couldn't think straight. Your breath mingled with his as you closed the distance and kissed him.

Jungwon felt the world stop with the movement of your lips on his. A soft, delicate kiss making him tighten your waist. You moved your hands to his hair, making him more desperate.

He brought your body closer to his and you smiled into the kiss, his cheeks redder than usual. He brought his face closer to yours again and you pulled away, teasing him.

He was so hot when he looked desperate.

"Easy, I'm not going anywhere." You replied and he felt slightly embarrassed, but that soon passed when you kissed him again, your hands going up under his shirt.

His breath hitched as he felt the touch of your fingers on his skin. His arm wrapped around you completely, the kiss becoming more desperate.

He pulled away to kiss your neck but was interrupted by a loud noise.

— BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP —

Jungwon's eyes widened as he woke up suddenly, his chest rising and falling in shock from the alarm as he stared at the ceiling of his own room. He was dreaming. It wasn't real.

He sat up in bed and ran his hand over his sweaty forehead. His entire body felt hot with the shame he was feeling at that moment.

A feeling of guilt invaded his chest. How could he dream things like that? Especially about you. His fingertips touched his own mouth thinking about how everything seemed so real. He couldn't forget.

The headache from having slept so little seemed unbearable as he tried to adjust to the brightness of the room. He pulled off his own sheet, throwing it to the side, trying to get up.

He had to face the reality that it wasn't real, and he would need to see you and pretend to be normal. He looked at his watch and broke out in a cold sweat when he remembered that you are going to have coffee together that morning.

'Great.' He thought indignantly to himself.

☆

After he got ready to go out, he looked in the mirror and realized how bad he looked. Dark circles under his eyes and his excitement on the floor.

He didn't know how to forget his dream, and much less how he would face you that morning. He sent you a message asking where you were. Maybe it would be better for him to ignore everything he dreamed and continue like nothing happened.

He walked into the campus and was greeted by Jake who looked at him confused "Man, you alright?" He noticed how Jungwon looked more dejected than usual.

"Just a rough night." He sighed, picking up his phone and seeing that you still hadn't responded to his message.

"You should take care of yourself, the heat is terrible. I heard that two people fainted today because of it." He commented and Jungwon nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." He replied "By the way, have you seen y/n? I texted her earlier and she hasn't responded yet." Jungwon asked and Jake shook his head "I don't know, but you can ask her best friend." Jake looked back and pointed down the path "I just passed him, it was a boy in a red shirt and black pants, I think you know him, it’s Heeseung."

"Thanks, see you around." Jungwon left first and Jake smiled seeing how this time it was him who was looking for you, and not the other way around.

As Jungwon walked down the hallway looking for Heeseung, a part of him felt pathetic. He didn't understand why he seemed so desperate to find you, you could be busy and then you would answer, but he felt like he needed to see you.

He made a small run touching your best friend's shoulder who looked at him curiously. Heeseung recognized him instantly "You're Heeseung, right?" He asked worriedly and the boy smiled gently "Yes, and you're Jungwon, Jay's friend. I remember you." Jungwon just nodded before asking what he really wanted to know "Do you know where y/n is? I texted her and she didn't respond so I got worried."

Heeseung widened his eyes, understanding the situation. "Dude, didn't you hear?" Jungwon felt his heart tighten at Heeseung's tone. "What?" Heeseung sighed. "She fainted because of the heat. She's in the campus infirmary, I'm coming back from there."

Jungwon felt all the color drain from his face when he heard the news. You? Fainted? You, who has so much energy and never sit still?

“Where is the infirmary? I need to go now." He despaired and Heeseung grabbed his shoulder "Calm down, otherwise you'll be the next one to faint if you act like this." Jungwon let out the air he didn't know he was holding. All the worries he felt before disappeared because you were all that mattered right now.

"I'll take you there." Heeseung lightly squeezed Jungwon's shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

"Is she okay?" Jungwon asked on the way and Heeseung nodded. "Yeah, she was taking a nap when I went there. She must have been tired."

Jungwon felt a little more relieved, but he still wanted to see you with his own eyes. Heeseung took him to the place, leaving him at the entrance. "I need to go now, take good care of her." He said and Jungwon thanked him for his help. "Of course, thanks for showing me the way."

Heeseung gave Jungwon a friendly smile, "It's okay brother, don't worry." He replied and Jungwon felt a pang of guilt for harboring strange feelings towards Heeseung who seemed like a nice guy.

He said goodbye and Jungwon entered the infirmary looking for you. His eyes searched the area until he saw you lying on the bed with your eyes closed and sleeping peacefully. He carefully approached and sat down on the chair next to your bed.

He wouldn't leave until you woke up.

While you were sleeping, he noticed how long your eyelashes were and how relaxed your eyebrows looked when you slept. How angelic your face looked when you were expressionless.

He brushed a few strands of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Your cheeks were slightly pale, perhaps from the weakness.

He looked around and saw that there was no food or water there, so he left his bag on the chair and went to buy some supplies from the machine outside the room. When he came back you seemed to have shifted position, your arm gently hugging the sheet.

He side smiled at how cute you were sleeping and started to think about how he ended up in this situation. You were just a strange girl he met at a party but now became important to the point where he watched you sleep in an infirmary ward.

Your presence was already part of Jungwon's life and he couldn't ignore it. His fingers lightly caressed your cheeks, warming the place.

Jungwon couldn't deny it, you were important to him.

When you started to move, he retracted his hand and looked at you curiously. You blinked your eyes slightly, stretching. Your gaze scanned the room, realizing it was the infirmary and finally noticing Jungwon's presence by your side.

"Jungwon?" You asked confused looking around "Why am I here?" Your head hurt a little and Jungwon made you lie down again.

"You fainted from the heat, you should stay here, rest and hydrate yourself." He said as he adjusted the pillow for you.

You searched your mind for your last memory and remembered that you had arrived at the campus gate before everything went dark out of nowhere. Jungwon looked at you intently, his shy persona being replaced by his comforting presence by your side.

"We were supposed to have coffee together." You mumbled sadly as you looked at him. Jungwon gave the first smile of the day, lightly caressing your forehead. "Your health is more important. We have all the time in the world for that." He answered gently and you felt your heart melt at that.

Jungwon looked even more handsome today. His presence was like an anchor you could rely on. He brought you unparalleled peace.

"You need to hydrate." He handed you a bottle of water so you could drink. "Okay." You replied, drinking the water and trying to relax. Your gaze fell on Jungwon who was staring at you, and you looked away, feeling self-conscious.

"You need to go to class." Jungwon snickered at your comment "I'm not leaving here." He replied taking the bottle back and giving you a cupcake so you could eat.

You gave Jungwon a mischievous look. “Oh? Jungwonie is going to skip class to take care of me?” You chuckled “I’m honored.”

He touched your cheek and smiled, "Looks like you're feeling better already." He commented and you nodded "Yes! Thanks to you Jungwonie, thank you very much."

"You're welcome." He saw how happy you looked and remembered the dream he had earlier. He looked away, feeling his heart suddenly race.

This was not a good time to remember that.

"I'll recover and I promise we'll have breakfast." Your voice was softer as you lay back down on the bed, closing your eyes as tiredness took over.

"Then recover quickly." Jungwon said smiling seeing how comfortable you looked to try to sleep again in front of him "Sweet dreams."

He let you rest while he played with his phone. As long as you were okay, nothing else mattered.

After you had fully recovered, Jungwon bombarded you with messages daily reminding you to eat regularly, sleep at the right times, and prioritize your health.

Since he was attentive and helped you over the past few days, you suggested camping with Jungwon over the weekend as a way of saying thank you.

You rented a car and bought a tent so you could enjoy the nice weather. While researching perfect camping spots, you found a great one that wasn't too far away, wasn't too crowded, and had a beautiful setting.

Jungwon was initially worried. Apparently, he wanted to avoid any scenario that could be dangerous for you, but you assured him that you were already recovered, and it would be fine.

Reluctantly he accepted, and now you were at the site setting up the tent until you noticed that the weather seemed cloudier than usual.

"The breeze is great." Jungwon said as he took a sip of water and rested after holding the heavy irons at the base of the tent.

"At least that." You replied, closing the tent's zipper and seeing that it had turned out great "It turned out perfect, we'll be able to enjoy it a lot."

Jungwon smiled "Yes. By the way, when are we going to set up the other tent?" He asked and you looked at him confused "There is no other tent."

The silence that hung in the air was embarrassing.

Jungwon was speechless and you began to realize that since you only bought one tent you would probably have to sleep in it together. His cheeks turned slightly pink and Jungwon cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood "I can sleep in the car, no problem."

"No way." You turned around and replied immediately "You did all the work, you're not going to sleep on the hard car seat."

Jungwon sighed at your stubbornness "y/n, I won't let you sleep in the car either." You gave him a smirk "Then let's sleep together."

Another silence filled the air.

Jungwon felt his throat close up, memories of the dream he had reappearing in his mind.

"It's fine with me, if you want..." Your voice sounded slightly hesitant, a little embarrassed. Something new for Jungwon, considering you always seemed confident.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking at you. "Absolutely." You returned his gaze and answered honestly.

He knew that there was no going back on this decision, so he accepted the consequences that would probably come from it.

"Come on Jungwon, the day is beautiful, and I saw that there is a small river there where we can take some pictures." You opened the tent and went out first, changing the subject.

He gave a smile, following you. “Show me then.”

You two walked around the place and realized that you were the only ones there. A small river ran through the place making the landscape even more beautiful.

"Jungwon, take some pictures of me." You said laughing as you posed holding your summer dress. He smiled as he recorded everything.

"Go a little to the left." He directed you and you smiled as if it were a professional photoshoot "Jungwon come too."

He walked over to your side and you pulled him closer so you could take a selfie. He smiled wider, showing off his dimple, and you put your faces together for a cute photo.

You swiped your finger on the screen looking at the pictures, feeling happy with the interaction while Jungwon looked at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't ignore how much more beautiful you looked today.

Your loose hair and red dress matched perfectly. He stared at you, feeling butterflies in his stomach that were impossible to ignore.

He knew what that meant: he liked you. Not just a simple liking but liking you to the point of accepting any crazy idea you suggested, doing whatever it took to make you happy.

He was completely in love with you, and he couldn't deny it anymore.

"Jungwon, I loved these photos, let's try some with the phone horizontally." You said and he smiled taking the phone from your hand "Sure, whatever you want."

You smiled at his response as you took more pictures near the riverbank.

☆

Jungwon went to get some snacks from the tent while you dipped a part of your feet in the river. He came back smiling holding some snacks and you got excited.

"Oh, that looks good." You saw a sweet pepero and cheered. "I knew you'd want some candy." Jungwon commented and you smirked. "You know me so well, Jungwonie."

He smiled as he handed you the pepero, but before you could enjoy the snacks, the sound of thunder startled you and a sudden rain began to fall on the two of you.

Jungwon took your hand as you ran back to the tent when the rain suddenly got heavier. You went in first and Jungwon followed right behind you, zipping up the tent. The rain was so heavy that you were amazed at how strong the tent was.

"I didn't expect it to rain today." You commented, putting the snacks away in a container in the corner.

"Me neither." Jungwon turned to you and took off the light coat he was wearing to place on your shoulders. You looked wetter than him, maybe because you were wearing a dress.

"Here, so you don't get cold." He said and you looked at him. "I'll try to get a towel from the car." You held his arm. "No, the rain is too heavy. It's better to wait." Your gaze and Jungwon's met and a silence hung in the air.

Jungwon’s hair was wet, his bangs were plastered to his forehead, and his shirt was slightly see-through. You couldn’t help but check him out.

He noticed your gaze and felt his heart suddenly race.

Just like in his dream, you approached. Jungwon felt an unsettling sensation run through his body seeing how your eyes were looking at him with such tenderness.

“I’m not cold.” Jungwon swallowed hard as you took off his coat, letting it fall onto the mattress beneath you. He was paralyzed, as if he didn’t know what to say, enchanted by your gaze.

Jungwon's right hand touched your cheek, removing the small droplets of water that were there. "Are you sure?" His gentle tone made your stomach flutter. "Yes." You smiled, realizing that he kept his hand there on your face. His thumb made circles on your skin, an act that showed affection on his part.

He looked deep into your eyes and in an impulse, Jungwon lowered his hand to the corner of your neck and closed the distance, giving you a sweeping kiss. All the rest of his consciousness faded away when you pulled him by his shirt, running your hands through his soft black hair.

Your back hit the soft mattress as Jungwon climbed on top of you. The kiss was desperate, his hands roaming your body. Jungwon groaned into your mouth when you pulled the hair on the back of his head, making you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

When his hands went up your legs, you pulled away to breathe, Jungwon's mouth devouring your neck making you gasp. "J-Jungwon." You whispered, closing your eyes and he brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes. For a moment he realized what he was doing and swallowed hard.

He wanted to say he regretted it, but the way your eyelashes adorned your eyes as you looked at him, your flushed cheeks and how the fabric of your dress seemed like a huge impediment to his hands made him sure he didn't want to stop.

“I’m sorry.” His lips brushed gently against yours. “I couldn’t help myself.” His fingers lightly squeezed the skin of your thighs and you smiled. “It’s okay, I want it too.” You responded by giving him a long peck.

He observed every detail of your face. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth, the line of your jaw, your collarbone that was now completely exposed. You were completely beautiful, and he could no longer contain the feelings that invaded his chest “y/n,” He whispered giving you a soft kiss “I like you.” He was the first to confess and you smiled entwining his hair between your fingers “I like you too, Jungwonie.”

He laughed at the nickname and kissed you slowly. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him towards you as you felt him deepen the kiss with his tongue. Jungwon could only think about how he would enjoy this moment as if it were the last time.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, trailing kisses down your jawline. “You drive me crazy.” You moaned as you felt his lips on your neck. You just nodded desperately and felt your breath catch in your throat as he moved his hands up from your thighs to your back, under your dress.

“Jungwon.” You moaned his name involuntarily as he lifted the fabric of your red dress. He liked it when you called his name like that, as if you were desperate for something more.

The raindrops fell harder on the tent's material as you pulled Jungwon's shirt up, touching Jungwon's abdomen. You were surprised to feel how toned and soft it was. Jungwon's moan was swallowed by your mouth in the desperate kiss you gave him, your hands exploring his arms and back.

“Damn I really like you, like,” He started to say as he wrapped his arms around you tighter “I'm truly madly deeply in love with you.” Your stomach turned at his confession and how he kissed your collarbone. He moved his kisses up your neck making you see stars in the air.

“I don’t want to stop.” He confessed before kissing below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then don’t stop.” You replied as you felt the soft skin of his abdomen with your fingertips “Please.”

You looked at him like you had been asking for this for a long time. You gave him an obscene smile that made him want to sink you even deeper into the tent mattress and never come back to the surface again.

Jungwon's strong hands that once explored every skin on your body lifted all the fabric of your dress and you helped him take off his shirt. Every contact with Jungwon's skin lit a spark between you.

“You’re beautiful.” He pulled your face up by your cheeks and moved his hand down to your neck, his thumb gently caressing your throat as you tried to breathe since you were completely out of breath. “Please be mine.” He whispered against your lips “I already am.” You replied and he smiled before enveloping you in a completely passionate kiss.

☆

Jungwon hugged you while stroking your hair. You drew random patterns on his cheek thinking about everything that had happened.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You broke the silence by laughing “I was surprised when you kissed me, but I loved it.” Jungwon looked at you carefully thinking how beautiful you looked in his arms “I couldn’t resist.” He replied and you kissed his cheek.

“And to think that before you could barely look at me.” He smiled “You were impossible.” The way he looked at you made you feel so many feelings at the same time that you were speechless. You had never liked anyone the way you liked Jungwon, and this was new to you.

“I’m looking forward to seeing more sides of you, Jungwon.” You whispered, giving Jungwon a kiss. “You’re like a box of surprises.” He pulled you closer. “And I’ll show you everything you want to see.” The sound of the rain being the perfect soundtrack for the cozy moment between you.

Jungwon had to admit: Jake was right. There were sparks between you two after all.

1K notes · View notes

fuxuannie · 7 months ago

Note

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman rising

1K notes · View notes

pretend-theres-a-name-here · 27 days ago

Text

Little thing I wrote while procrastinating writing part 5 of Hide Your Heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve Harrington who knows his kid brother is obsessed with some niche, up and coming metal band. Steve Harrington who groans and grumbles and carries on about having to drive him around to shows and listen to him nerding out but does it anyway. Steve Harrington who doesn’t really pay attention because the lights on the stage are too bright and drown out whoever’s playing. Steve Harrington who is currently wading through a crowd making their way to the door, going against the current and stumbling as he searches for the mop of hair he promised to get home.

“Henderson!” He cups his hands around his mouth, “Where is that kid?”

He finds himself pushed to the outskirts of the mass of bodies, plastered to a wall but he still pitches forward when a particularly rowdy young woman rams into him. He thinks he’s going to go all the way to the floor when a hand snags his elbow, holding him up. He turns to rush out an apology, a few thanks for the save, but stops before he can get the words out because holy shit the guy is gorgeous.

And Steve—well Steve has been doing some thinking about himself. About how most guys don’t have to mentally prepare themselves to go into the locker room after pe class. About how most guys don’t let their friends paint their nails pretty colors. Robin told him that there was this thing called being bisexual and he thought some things were clicking into place. So he’s gotten used to going out and noticing more than just girls, it’s not uncommon, but this guy is hot, like really hot.

He’s dressed in leather pants and a cut off tank top that hangs around his sides. Tattoos, more doodles than actual designs, on full display for the world to see, running up his arms and peeking out from his ribs. His hair is in curly tangles, sweat sticking it to his forehead but he’s grinning. He has a jacket, leather, in his other hand.

He’s also still holding on to Steve’s arm. Warm rings press into the inside of his elbow as he rights himself.

“First time?” The man asks.

“Y-yeah.” Steve gets out, “I’m supposed to be here with my brother, he’s a huge fan of some band playing here. Molded Coffin or something.”

The guy’s face breaks out into a full on smile, humor sparking in his eyes but Steve doesn’t know if what he said was that funny.

“Yeah? Where’s he at?” The guy still hasn’t let go, leading Steve away from the crowd and further into the room where there were less people.

“I’m actually looking for him now. Left him alone for five minutes to get a drink and he disappears.”

“You need help? These things can get a little crazy.” The man offers.

“You do this a lot?” Steve asks, immediately mentally face palming. He practically asked the guy if he came here often, he was going to think he was flirting. Was he?

The man just smiled, “You could say that. Eddie.” He finally released Steve’s arm in favor of holding out his hand. They shook hands and Steve told the man—Eddie—his name.

They talked for a while, Eddie got them drinks and Steve told himself that Dustin was old enough to behave himself for 15 minutes. Eddie kept an arm around his shoulders the whole time, shielding him from the chaos of the dwindling crowd was his excuse. Steve would have told him he didn’t need an excuse if that didn’t seem too forward.

Eddie was just asking for his number when someone behind them called, “Ed! Quite flirting and get your ass over here! You’re helping us tear down this time!”

Eddie sighed, “Duty calls.” He scribbled something on to a napkin, patting it against Steve’s chest and backing away, “I’ll be waiting for yours, sweetheart.”

And Steve was either drunk or insane because he actually laughed at that. Laughed again when he looked at the napkin and saw numbers almost unreadable, a winking face below them.

“Steve! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you—What’s that?” Dustin’s tone went from annoyed to prying as soon as he saw the napkin.

“None of your business.” He stuffed the napkin in his pocket, “Are you ready to go or what, kid, I’ve been waiting forever.” He poked Dustin’s shoulder until he got moving and then he poked it again when Dustin scowled at him.

In the car he was once again subjected to Dustin’s after show rant about how cool it was. The guitarist apparently broke two strings and flipped the crowd off with his bloody fingers—which they went wild for, which Dustin screeched along with them for. They played a new song, but it all sounded the same to Steve. That was as much as he heard, though, his mind kept wandering back to the man after the show. To the number in his pocket. He debated putting it to use, was the next day too soon? How long was too long until Eddie forgot about him? A guy like that probably had a mountain of napkins with numbers thrown at him every day. He decided to get over himself and call late the next day.

“Hi, this is Steve.” He suddenly felt very silly for calling but it was too late now.

“Steve, pretty boy from the show last night Steve?” And just like that he forgot why he hesitated to call.

“That would be me.” He cringed, “No, wait, that sounds so self centered.”

“Not self centered if it’s a compliment.” Eddie argued.

“If you say so.”

They talked, got 10 whole minutes of random conversations Steve never wanted to end before Eddie cursed.

“I’m sorry, I promised my uncle I’d help at the shop.” He muttered, “I’m gonna be late.”

“That’s fine, you should go help him.”

“I’ll call you later?” Eddie asked, and if Steve didn’t know any better he’d say it sounded hopeful.

“I’ll be here later.” He responded.

They called all the time after that, whenever they were both free. They even met up in person, it was just to the park because Eddie found out Steve had never fed ducks before, but it ended with another day scheduled to spend together and then another and then a month had passed and he could say they were officially dating. It was the best time Steve had had in a long time and he really didn’t want it to end. The realization came to him one night, after another day with Eddie, and it wasn’t as shocking as he thought it would be. It was a Friday night, Eddie was busy most Saturdays—something about going to shows with the guys—so a lot of their slow nights were Fridays. They were watching TV on the couch in Eddie’s trailer, which was quickly becoming Steve’s favorite place, when he found himself watching the way Eddie laughed and even jumped at whatever horror movie was on more than he was watching the movie itself.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Eddie’s head whipped around, eyes wide, movie forgotten, “I love you too!” And then Steve couldn’t be blamed for not watching the movie anymore when he was practically tackled to the couch, laughing the whole way down.

It was a month after that night that he was steeling himself outside of his front door.

“It’ll be fine.” He said to himself, “They’re going to love you.” He said to Eddie who was gripping his hand.

“It’ll be fine.” Eddie agreed and he almost sounded convinced.

Today was the one day that everyone could gather at Steve’s. The whole party had shown up, everyone he had folded into his makeshift family was in his living room waiting for him to get back with the new partner he told them he was introducing. Today was the day they decided to tell people about them.

Steve pushed the door open, taking a deep breath before leading Eddie to the living room. All of his friends sat scattered around the room. On the couch and floor and coffee table. He could do this.

“Uh. Hey.” He cleared his throat, “I’m back.” All eyes snapped to him, eager to know who this mystery person was.

Eddie tried for an awkward wave but their hands were still connected so they just shook between them.

The silence was getting unbearable until finally Robin shot up from the floor and tackled him in a hug, subsequently dragging Eddie along into it.

“I’m so happy for you, dingus.” She laughed as she pulled away, “Robin.” She stuck her hand out to Eddie who visibly relaxed, “Best friend, platonic soulmate, hurt him and I swear to god you’ll wake up with no kneecaps.”

“Eddie.” Eddie squeaked, shaking her hand hastily.

“Bobbin.” Steve only called her that when she was being particularly over the top because it annoyed her to no end and she knew this, “Tone it down, would you?”

The rest of the group chorused their hellos and introductions and a weight lifted off of Steve’s shoulders at the sight of all of his friends accepting the news without comment. Until he realized there was only one person who hadn’t spoken a word, standing in the middle of the room with a strange look on his face.

“Dustin?” Steve prompted, voice strained.

“Oh my God.” Dustin mumbles in disbelief.

“Dustin…” Steve shot him a warning glance, “If you’ve got a problem with it—”

But Dustin ignores him, he’s staring at Eddie in shock, “Oh my God!” He practically shouts, coming to life to jump and screech, “That’s—! You’re—! You’re Eddie Munson!”

Eddie grins, seemingly unfazed by this bizarre reaction to meeting your brother’s boyfriend, “I take it you’re a fan?”

“A fan of what?” Steve asks, pulling his hand out of Eddie’s to turn to him face to face.

At the same time, Dustin starts babbling hysterically, “A fan? Only the biggest CC fan in all of Hawkins! I have every song on vinyl, like three posters and—oh my god this is so embarrassing. Eddie Munson is in my house and I’m telling him I have his face on my wall.”

He keeps talking but it’s more to himself than anyone else in the room so Steve raises an eyebrow at Eddie, “What’s he talking about? Why are you on posters and why does he have them?”

Eddie, for the first time since Steve has known him, looks almost sheepish, “Oh…I guess I’m kind of, maybe the frontman of Corroded Coffin.” He might be blushing.

“You’re that nerd Dustin’s always going on about?!” Steve exclaims.

#Steve just sort of zones out whenever Dustin starts rambling about CC so he doesn’t know their names #He met the rest of the band on their third date but Eddie begged them to not tell him because he needed to be the one to do it #He was going to tell him after meeting the group but he didn’t expect any of them to know him because CC isn’t that big yet #Their most consistent audience is the regulars at the Hideout and Dustin #They’re brothers because I said so #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #Pretend writes

711 notes · View notes

bluejutdae · 10 months ago

Text

best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you

genre: romance, friends to lovers

warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner

“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.

“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”

Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.

“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.

“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.

Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”

“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.

You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.

When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”

“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?

Wrong.

You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.

You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.

“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”

“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”

Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.

“Perfect march, uh?”

You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”

“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?

“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”

“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”

“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.

“Movie?”

The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.

“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”

You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.

“Chan…”

“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because!”

He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.

What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.

“Do you like me, Chan?”

He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.

“It’s you.”

“Mh?”

“The guy I like, it’s you.”

He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.

“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.

“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”

You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.

“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.

“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”

If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #skz Smau #skz fake texts #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #chan scenarios #chan fanfic #Thiana writes Chan

3K notes · View notes

endearng · 13 days ago

Text

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid fanfic #cm fanfic #doctor spencer reid

545 notes · View notes

mywritersmind · 2 months ago

Note

pookieeee how are youuu 💗 I'm in NEED of a Franco fic where the reader is João Félix's little sister...

So she obvi speaks Portuguese and English (maybe some Italian in there too) butttt unlike her brother her Spanish is rusty. So when reader drags her brother (and of course some of the guys from the team) to support her best friend at a race, he's listening in to every little comment Franco makes about her in Spanish and trying to subtly give hints to reader that he likes her, and of course some good brother teasing! Just hardcore fluff, friend pining and good old family banter!

HE CAN UNDERSTAND - FC43

listen up : i used google translate don’t come for me. not proofread! super cute and fluffy! loved this request sorry if i didng execute it well😭

word count : 2281

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Franco!” I jump into my best friends arms as he laughs. The moment I asked for three Grand Prix tickets, he sent them over immediately and went on a rant of how excited he was to see me.

“Y/n!” He grins widely at me, “I’m so happy you’re here!” He's in his race suit, his hair messy and extra wavy. I run my hand through it, fixing it a bit.

“You’re a mess.” I laugh as he pushes my hand away and rolls his eyes, “Oh!” I suddenly remember that my brother is standing behind me. “This is my brother, João! I can’t believe you two haven’t met!” I smile at both of them as my brother shakes Franco’s hand.

Oddly professional for someone he knows I love. “Nice to finally meet you. Y/n never shuts up about you.” I slightly blush at his words as Franco lets out a laugh.

“Good to know…” Franco gives us a mini tour. I'm so beyond happy for him. This has been his dream since forever, the first time I met him he even jokingly flirted and said I could be a WAG.

Franco is charming and hilarious so my brother likes him instantly. We end up in the William’s garage, everyone scrambling around and talking in languages I can’t understand.

Since it’s race day, i’m genuinely surprised Franco had the time to see us. Especially since Qualifying was earlier today.

But my best friend works in magical ways.

⋆༺

FRANCO

I watch Y/n talk to Alex’s girlfriend. I watch as her hair flows down her back and her hand covers her mouth as she laughs. “So,” João turns to me, sort of intimidating for his height but so far I think he approves of me. “You’ve known Y/n for a while, huh?”

I nod, “Yeah, she hasn't been able to shake me yet.” He laughs, nodding his head.

“You care about her?” Why do I feel like i’m getting interrogated?

I nod, “Of course. She’s my best friend.”

“I mean as more than a friend.”

I laugh uncomfortably, joking with him, “Are you asking me my intentions?” He does not find this funny. I clear my throat and breathe out, “We’re just friends.”

Y/n comes skipping back over to us. I’ve always been taught to not lie, but i’m not about to confess that I like her to fucking brother.

“J, you’ve got to see his car!” She takes his arm and pulls him away, “You coming, Fran?”

I’m about to follow after them but my engineer taps my shoulder, “Gimmie one second! Don't touch anything, Y/n, I know how you are!”

She gives me one of her signature smiles, making my pulse quicken and my smile falter. I catch her brother giving me an odd look before I sit up and wave.

I turn to my engineer who’s smiling, big, “Dios mío, te estás sonrojando.” (My god, you’re blushing.) I roll my eyes at him, turning to see Y/n point to my car and start asking questions to someone in blue.

“¡Cállate por favor!” (Shut up please!) Her Spanish is more than rusty. I've tried to teach her some but she gets distracted and she always ends up persuading me into something different. Still, it’s weird talking about her when she’s right there.

“Vamos, ¡te gusta! Es la forma en que la miras... como si fuera el sol.” (Come on, you like her! It’s the way you look at her… like she’s the sun.) I push his shoulder at his words. Christ, is it that obvious?

“Actúas como si fuera un cachorrito enamorado.” (You act like i’m some lovesick puppy)

“¡Porque lo eres! Siempre hablas de ella, tu pantalla de bloqueo es ella, ¡siempre le estás enviando mensajes de texto! Admítelo.” (Because you are! You always talk about her, your lock screen is her, you are always texting her! Just admit it.)

I cross my arms at him, not daring to glance back at her. “No voy a arruinar mi relación con ella…” I shake my head and tease him, “¡Ahora vuelve a trabajar!” (I’m not ruining my relationship with her… now get back to work!)

I join Y/n and João again, smiling and doing my duty as a tour guide. João gives me another weird look and i’m hoping it’s not because i’m losing his trust. I know i’m not her boyfriend, but I still want him to like me.

They are soon asked to step into the visitors area as I warm up for the race. Y/n kisses my cheek before she goes, “Good luck, Fran. Be careful!” I know my cheeks are red but all I can focus on is her so close to me, her lips on my cheek.

I nod, “Thank you. Have fun watching.” I wink at her and turn, getting ready.

⋆༺

YOU

“I’m so nervous! It’s so rainy!” I bite my lip as the cars go out on track in a second formation lap. The race hasn’t even started and someone’s already out!

My brother eyes me, he’s been acting weird all day and I hate it. He suddenly turns to me, “You don’t like Franco?”

It catches me off guard, “Uh… of course I do?” He rolls his eyes.

“I mean can you see yourself with him? I think you’d be cute.” I laugh out loud.

“João, when have you ever wanted me to date someone?” Especially Franco. I mean, maybe i’ve thought about it.

Okay maybe I've fantasized about it… a lot.

But what am I supposed to do? Confess to my best friend who’s always been there for me that I think he’s irresistible and criminally hot? No.

“I just think if you’re gonna date anyone… He’s a good option.” My cheeks heat as I shake my head, “You’re blushing! Come on, Y/n, why not?”

“Just shut up, the race is starting!”

The next time he brings it up is at a yellow flag, “He’s definitely nicer than your ex.” I give him a death glare and attempt to tune him out, “And who did you go crying to after he broke your heart….?” Franco. The answer is Franco because he’s always there.

It’s been hard recently because of his races, but he’s constantly texting or calling me. I think he just wants someone to gossip with.

“Again, he’s my friend. Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn’t mean you know everything!”

“No but I know everything about you, and you don’t look at your other friends like that.” I hate that stupid smug smile on his face. And I hate that he’s right.

My stomach drops when Franco goes into the wall. I grab onto my brother's arm who doesn’t look concerned at all and more happy that i’m so worried! I slap his arm, “You have no empathy!”

I cross my arms, biting my lip as I watch him exit the car. Thank god he’s okay.

Franco gives me a small thumbs up when he’s back in the garage. I can tell he’s absolutely gutted, the air is awkward and thick with tension since Franco’s crash meant that the whole team's weekend is over.

The race is long and honestly scary. Still, all I can think about is Franco.

Maybe this weekend, his attention to me, my brothers comments, and how Franco’s been looking at me, has finally sealed what I've been dreading.

I’ve known I like him for a while, but I don’t want to ruin us. I can’t be embarrassed by my closest friend!

I’m not an idiot, I see how he flirts with interviewers or even fans. Part of me wants to believe that’s just his personality, but the other part is screaming at me that he doesn’t like me.

His eyes though, he looks at me so deeply that sometimes I feel like I'm apart of some big trick.

“Hey,” My brother nudges me, “Race is over.” I snap out of whatever daze I was in and nod, “I gotta pee, go talk to Franco!”

When I look to where he points, Franco’s already looking at me. His race suit is unzipped and he looks so tired. “Hi.” He smiles softly but I can tell it’s forced.

“Sorry your first race with me sucked.” He frowns, leaning against the little barrier from the garage and friends and family.

“Hey…” I touch his arm briefly, “It did not suck! And It’s not your fault. It was scary though…”

His eyes look sad and I know it’s not just because he crashed. Franco feels so deeply and this weekend has been especially hard for him. I can tell he sees the worry on my face, “I'm really really happy you’re here. We’re getting dinner later, right?”

I go to the hotel with João first. We change and meet back at the restaurant. “I’m so hungry!” I groan as we sit down, Franco said he would be here soon but I am not above ordering early.

João sits across from me, “Gotta wait for your boyfriend.”

I eye him, “You better not say anything in front of Franco. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” He laughs a bit.

“I really don’t think I will.” He’s so ominous today. “I can tell i’m making you uncomfortable though. My only question is… why?”

“Why?”

“Why can’t you accept that you like him? He’s obviously not going to turn you down. He’s practically got hearts in his eyes when he talks to you.” The waiter brings water which I gulp down immediately.

“I- No! I can’t like him. He’s my friend.”

“So you’ve said… but the best relationships start out that way.” Why is he pushing this so much?

“I just… I don’t want to ruin our relationship.”.

“Funny…” he mumbles something, “That's what he said too.” but I can’t hear him because Franco sits and starts saying hello.

Our dinner is amazing, the food is perfect and I can’t stop laughing at Franco and João. “You’ve gotta come to a match sometime!” My brother laughs, “The team would love you.”

Franco grins, “I would be honored! Y/n always talks about your games, you’re pretty good apparently.” This boosts my brother's ego far too much and we end the night while talking about football and childhood stories.

“He always teased me with his friends!” I roll my eyes at the memory, “They were all learning Spanish in highschool so I never understood them!”

Franco laughs as João shakes his head, “Why didn’t you take spanish in highschool?”

“I did! I just never caught on. Plus João became fluent after school anyway so his schooling barely helped.” I shrug as Franco’s expression turns odd.

He blinks, looking to João, “You’re fluent?”

“Si.” He looks almost smug about it as Franco nods slowly, swallowing.

“Así que escuchaste…” (So you heard…)

“Todo.” (Everything) Franco’s smile drops completely at my brothers words. But my brother still carries on with a smile, “Eres muy obvio, pero lo apoyo.” (You’re very obvious, but I support it.)

I frown at their communication that I can’t understand, “Okay, can you two stop gossiping? I’m ready to leave.” Franco smiles at me, nodding slowly as we stand.

Our walk back to the hotel is short and luckily no fans interrupt it. The warmth of the inside makes me smile and the ding of the elevator makes me yearn for my bed.

“Uh, Y/n?” I look back at Franco as he talks, “Could I speak to you for a moment…” I look at my brother who nods, a smile still on his face as he disappears behind the elevator doors. “Let’s go outside.”

It’s no longer raining so we venture out into the hotel's garden. It’s beautiful with tall plants and trees, a small path that we walk on, and flowers that I've never seen before.

“What did you walk to talk to me about?” I turn to him, he looks oddly scared and a bit chilly. He starts to speak but then closes his mouth and thinks, “Franco…?”

“I like you.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, I freeze, “I really like you and not just as a friend… like way more than that.”

I blink, “You’re kidding?”

The panic on his face is immediate, “No?”

“Shit. Okay!” I realize i’m so caught up in my own world that he probably thinks I don’t like him, “I feel the same.”

He breathes out, stepping closer, “You fucking scared me.”

I smile, not believing this is even real, “You really like me? Because my brother has been making me feel delusional all day!” He takes my hand in his and I swear my heart skips a beat.

“He heard me talking about you in spanish…” I raise a brow, “My engineer was teasing me and I didn’t know he spoke it!” I laugh, shaking my head at his story, “But I'm glad he did. I probably would be sitting in my room all alone if he hadn't.”

I grip his hand tighter, stepping closer, “I’m really glad too. I didn’t want to ruin anything but fuck I really like you.”

He grins and leans in, He paused before I nod. Franco presses a kiss to my lips softly, “I can’t believe you have a crush on me.” I whisper as groans and rolls his eyes, trying to walk away.

“No! No taking it back now!” I laugh, pulling him back to me, my hand going to his neck and my lips meeting his, “You’re stuck with me now.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto

550 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 1 month ago

Text

Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.

#zachariah dropping sam into an alternate universe where he's dead like this will solve ... something #sam earnestly trying to convince dean he's in the better universe because all sam does is ruin everything around him #he tells dean every terrible thing he would have had to endure if sam had survived the fire #all dean hears is that there's universe out there where he's not alone #supernatural

334 notes · View notes

teaboot · 6 months ago

Note

I love your post about being a security guard. Would you please tell us about some of the cool people you meet at work?

Ooooh I can do that!

One time on foot patrol I got called to talk to a guy who had his pet off-leash, right? And there's a pretty big road nearby, and some restaurants, so I head over to see if I can convince him to leash what I believe to be his dog before it runs into a diner or humps the wrong leg or gets clipped or whatever

But I get there. And I see the guy, he's exactly as described, but there's no dog nearby so I'm kinda confused

But then I see his parrot

And I'm trying to keep a straight face when I get there but I'm in uniform and he sees me and stops and the three of us (me, him, parrot) kind of just stare at each other

And I dont know what to say, I have not been trained for this, and I'm trying to figure out if this is even a problem or not, so I just tell the guy, "I'm gonna be real with you man, this is a new one for me".

And to his credit the dude was actually very kind and polite, introduced me to the bird and all. Little fella made some *frighteningly intelligent* eye contact with me the whole time, of course.

Anyways it turns out the bird was about sixteen years old and smarter than me, so I told them they were both above my pay grade and were good to go as long as they didn't go into any eating establishments, since technically it'd be a contamination risk.

VERY cool afternoon.

Also another time a very cheerful woman claimed she could read auras and told me mine was yellow, and I got to tell her that yellow was my favourite colour, which was cool!

And one night I was on mall duty and I found six teenagers all crammed into one of those 25-cent kiddie rides shaped like a school bus, which was hilarious, but I had to tell 'em "I am so sorry, this is the best thing I've seen all day, but I do need yall outta there, I love you all" (the ride things have weight limits and break down constantly, it's a pain in the ass.)

Aw shit, this other time I found two teen boys pushing each other in a shopping cart- and they were having such a great time, I felt so bad, it's exactly the kind of shit my brothers would do- and I think that one was like "sorry guys, liabilities, do it where I can't see you".

And this one probably shouldn't be funny but there was this guy with a bike, right? Belligerent, abusive towards staff, falling-down drunk, you know? And I was supposed to get him out of the building, but instead when I asked him to make his way out he jumped onto the bike and started riding around me in circles shouting "WHORE! WHORE! WHOOOOOOOORE!"

Same guy, the day that I first met him, he was peeing at a payphone- I asked him for his name and he straightened up, put his shoulders back, and said with all confidence, "My name is Donald Finkley and I take it up the butt!"

His name was not Donald Finkley. The real Donald Finkley was someone he just didn't like very much

#Names changed for confidentiality obvs #But yes I meet a lot of characters for sure #Teaboot #Teabooot stories #Teablart

1K notes · View notes

urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

Text

I know what they call you.

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous. Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

wc: 11k

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao.

for more shy!Reader content: masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

3K notes · View notes