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changbunnies · 3 months ago

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Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol

♡ Word Count: 11.2k

♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.

♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)

♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv

♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.

You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on.

The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.

You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.

But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.

He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.

Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.

You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.

He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder.

Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat.

He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.

You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.

He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.

You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.

He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.

And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.

He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room.

Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)

Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.

Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.

“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.

He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist.

His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.

Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.

He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.

You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.

Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.

He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.

Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit.

Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom.

He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.

You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.

The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.

The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.

The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.

You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.

They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.

You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.

And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.

Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.

“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”

“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?

“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.

His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.

His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real.

“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.

It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better.

“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.

He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”

You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”

“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”

Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.

“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.

Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.

But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.

The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.

And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.

Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck.

“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.

He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.

It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.

“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.

Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.

He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.

He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.

“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”

“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.

“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.

At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.

“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?

You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.

He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.

Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.

You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse.

And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.

You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.

The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.

He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.

And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.

Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.

He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.

Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.

“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.

“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this.

“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”

He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.

It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.

“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.

But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?

Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.

There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.

“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.

“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.

“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.

“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.

“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.

“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.

There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up.

He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.

And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.

All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.

You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.

He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you.

Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.

Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.

He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.

He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.

And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.

He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?

Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips.

Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.

You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.

When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.

Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to.

Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.

“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.

“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.

Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.

“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”

“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.

“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.

“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see.

Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.

“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.

The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.

“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.

Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?

Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.

He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.

Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.

He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.

“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.

Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.

“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.

“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.

When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.

You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.

“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.”

Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.

You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.

He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.

He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.

“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole.

He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.

Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.

Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.

“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.

It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.

You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.

You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”

It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.

“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.

He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him.

The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.

Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.

“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”

Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.

You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.

It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.

He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.

“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.

Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.

He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #don't ask me how many times i rewatched the movie while in the process of writing this. (the answer is 10 DFSGDGFG)

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wonysugar · 4 months ago

Text

wonder why i’m bitter | julie han

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. casual — chappell roan

synopsis : friends don’t act like this, you would know that better than anyone else.

pairing : non-idol!julie x fem!reader

genre : smut, angst, smutty angst, if you will! heavy on the angst though sorry.

tags : they were roommates,,, making out, marking, implied possessiveness, implied jealousy, anal rimming (heyyy), strap-on sex, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, julie is bent ova, and YESS WHO SAID BACKSHOTS, arguing, topsub!femreader, bottomdom!julie, frequent mentions of sexuality, praise kink, cheating?? could you call this cheating,, one singular l-bomb,,, yikesss

warnings : none..? i guess apart from the obvious content warnings here (angst and smut) there’s some underlying internal homophobia themes?? but i don’t think it’s that bad tbh IDK BE WARNED JUST IN CASE

word count : 3,1k

a/n : haiii!! i’m finally posting this draft OUHH it went through so many changes, like for example THE TITLEE?? i was gonna make the title be a lyric to ‘goodluck, babe!’ by chappell roan since i originally based the fic on that but i ended up listening to casual instead and went woaahh,, this fits so much more what the hell?!? but yeahh i think i’m happy with how it turned out! :’) i hope you guys can say the sameedckem

ALSO! first time writing anything involving anal,, while yes i do talk about it often (ahem we all know,,) i was incredibly nervous in the process and this definitely made me step out of my comfort zone, hope it isn’t too apparent in this ;; but yeah, to stop rambling, thank you for reading!! i hope you like itt! :]]

“so…” julie’s friend makes a motion between the two of you with a raised eyebrow, wearing a curious smile. “what exactly are you two?” they ask. you thought about it for a few moments, theoretically, you two are roommates, friends at most. but, if anything, you’re more like a couple behind closed doors.

you shrug, thinking nothing of it, “i guess we’re kind of like—“

“we’re just friends.” she places, wearing a polite smile at the familiar in front of her before you could even think about the rest of your sentence. when you turn to look at her, she’s avoiding your gaze, already familiar with the type of expression you’re wearing.

it’s the face you always make when she pushes you away like this.

turning back to her friend, you nod slightly, “yeah. we’re friends.” trying your hardest not to let your dejection show through your smile.

maybe it’s all just in your imagination, perhaps you guys were never even close to being a ‘thing’ and you were the one who thought too much into it. but alas; no matter from which angle you looked at it, the way she displayed any ounce of affection towards you would always make you overthink what you two were exactly. anything she’d do in the comfort of your own apartment with you was never close to anything she’d do in public, in front of the eyes of everyone walking by. she always acts like she barely knows you whenever she is surrounded by people, whether she knows them or not.

you think about it often.

you think about her often.

you asked yourself, do you even like her like that? well, she’s pretty chill, smart, witty and funny. she’s also beautiful, and one hell of a tease, that much is obvious, you’ve had sex with her numerous times in the past, so sexual attraction is out of the question; you already knew the answer to that. the better question probably was; does she even like you like that?

“you done with them?” says julie, referring to the pile of kitchenware you guys left from last night on the counter as she hugs you from behind and rests her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapping all around your waist and watching you. you, on the other hand, were taken by surprise by the sudden display of affection, so much so that you lost your original train of thought. as much as you knew that she liked physical touch, it always did surprise you whenever you randomly felt her skin come in contact with yours throughout the day. getting quickly accustomed to the feeling of her lips kissing your shoulder, you hummed in response, washing and scrubbing the plate with the soaped-up sponge you were holding.

“almost.”

she whines in an exaggerated manner, “hurry uppp..” lightly tapping on your stomach and resting her head on your shoulder, before adding, “i miss you.”

you giggle, putting away the plate you were now done washing, quickly grabbing another dirty one, “i’m right here, though?”

“no like,” she left another kiss on your shoulder, “i miss you.”

you smirked, getting progressively more and more amused by the girl’s foreign, yet familiar behavior towards you, feeling her embrace you even tighter.

“oh yeah? well in that case, i miss you too, julie.”

you knew exactly what the girl in question meant by ‘i miss you’ and you would’ve teased her further if it weren’t for how impatient she was getting, despite how cute it was. her heavily annoyed sighs giving it away, despite those also being sprinkled with a tiny bit of humor.

“come onn, don’t play dumb with me, smartass.”

so, you pushed the oblivious act aside and obliged, setting the plate down before facing her.

your lips danced in sync with hers as you carried her to your bed. once you got there, you gently sat her down on the edge of the mattress, lips still intertwined whilst her hands glided along the curves of your body, tracing circles with the tip of her index finger on your soft skin.

you didn’t waste any time in laying her down moments later,, your mouth now eagerly roaming her neck and collarbone and leaving kisses down along her body, successfully marking it up. listening to her quiet hums, you proceeded to slide down her sweatpants, your hands tugging on the waistband.

now left in only her panties, you allowed your fingers to glide over the damp spot in between her legs, teasing the clothed entrance and taking in all of her reactions all at once.

looking at you through the light brown hair that fell perfectly on her face with hooded eyes and slightly upturned eyebrows, she whispered in a low, husky and raspy tone, “see, baby? see how wet i am for you?”

now, julie had this certain ability to turn even the most confident person alive on this earth into a nervous wreck.

you were, obviously, no exception from her spells. if anything, you, y/n, were a prime example.

you slowly nodded at her words, entranced, feeling yourself fall more and more at her mercy with each second that passed. that earned a smirk from her, putting her hand atop yours, before continuing, “you’re gonna be good and do something about it, right?”

you nodded once again, this time more eager.

“words, darling.” she whispered.

“yes,” you muttered in response, a mix of nervousness and eagerness taking over all five of your senses, “o-of course i will.”

she hummed, perfectly content with your adorable answer, before pulling you back into a hungry kiss for another long, pleasant while. that is, until she added something else between kisses, something that made you shudder.

“get the strap.”

immediately reaching for the drawer next to your bed upon hearing those words, lips still connected to hers, you obeyed and pulled the cabinet open, quickly pulling out the phallic silicone object residing in it as well as the harness, too impatient to feel even embarrassed about the sudden action.

it didn’t take long before the harness was tight around your hips, the brunette bent over in front of you at the edge of the bed with her panties pulled down to her thighs. you ravished in the sight; her perfect pink pussy sitting before you, slick and wet with desire, begging for you to finally please it properly, practically throbbing in anticipation. who were you to deny her of such pleasure?

you traced your index finger along her slit, your digit comfortably nestled in between her slippery folds as it slowly teased the entrance.

rewarded by the sweet sounds coming out of her, you wasted no more time and slowly leaned into her core, giving a long swipe of the tongue to her pussy.

“ohh shitt..” overhearing her moans, you smiled against her as you were now making out with her swollen cunt, intending to taste every drop of her slick, not wasting a single one. your lips circled around her bundle of nerves, giving it small and gentle sucks whilst one of your hands massaged her ass.

subconsciously, julie’s back arched with each movement that your tongue made inside her, her head hung low on the bed as she whimpered filthy praises, her sounds just slightly muffled from the white bedsheet she had over her mouth.

you heard them, though.

thank god you heard them.

after a long while of giving more than endless attention to her pussy, you felt your mouth move upwards by itself, driven by the pure desire to make her feel even better than she already was.

your tongue quickly made its way to her ass, roaming and dancing around her rim, which immediately earned a sharp gasp from her part. you’ve never made it a habit to eat julie’s ass, but whenever you did? it was always enough to cloud your brain with pure, raw want, and it always seemed to catch her pleasantly off-guard, since you’d always do it without any warning.

you attempted to relax her again by tracing slow circles around her hole with your muscle, before inserting it fully, which you could only assume worked, since you could hear her whines get longer and louder. “fuckk yes baby..” she shamelessly moaned, this time more audibly due to her raising her head up and looking back at you as best as she possibly could, “that’s it, such a sweet girl for me— ah..“

using one of your hands, you made sure to thoroughly stimulate her clit, rubbing circles around it and even going as far as to inserting two fingers inside her dripping cunt with your other hand in the process, all whilst the muscle in your mouth flicked way within her, drilling and wriggling as you hummed against her.

after what felt like hours of you messily rimming her, hours of her pushing herself further onto your mouth, practically fucking herself on you, you figured it was finally time to give her what’d she been wanting ever since she came up behind you in the kitchen.

pulling your fingers out and standing back up, you lined up your strap-on to her aching core, pressing the head against it before slowly inserting its entire length inside of her.

she let out a groan at the feeling of being penetrated, which progressively turned into longer and more suggestive sounds. it all sounded like music to your ears, it only made you want to please her more.

you reached for her hand, grabbing it upon contact. she squeezed yours with just as much force in return, pleasure visibly taking over her senses. it didn’t take long for you to be full on thrusting into her, either, feeling her walls clench around your fake cock as she babbled praises.

it was a small gesture, sure, but it made you feel things you weren’t quite certain on how to label.

“such a good girl for me—“ was what she let out, a loud moan escaping her agape mouth whilst you continued pounding her, faster with each second that passed. “f-fuck y/n i love you—“

you saw her lose herself under you, you watched in… admiration? infatuation? whatever it was, you thought she looked mesmerizing, especially with how her brown long hair fell all over the place, how perfect she sounded, how perfect she looked.

how perfect she was.

the words “i love you” resonated in your head.

“who’s eric?” you ask her, having thrown glances at her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter whilst washing a plate, the singular one you had left untouched due to being… distracted.

you finished washing it, then turned around, now met with a surprised julie, clothed in a pair of booty shorts and a white tank top, she was fresh out of the shower, towel drying her hair. that is, until she unexpectedly heard you speak that name, her eyes immediately darting between you and the phone, greeted by that man’s contact name and picture on the latter, an incoming phone call from his part.

“a guy?” she says back, in her usual sarcastic yet gentle and quiet tone, “thought that was obvious enough—“

jealousy and inexplicable possessiveness flooded your senses; you knew most of her friends, but, you had no idea who this ‘eric�� dude was, and that especially ate at you. why was he calling her, on a random weekday at like, 4 pm? you had checked the clock hanging on the wall to confirm the time.

“well yeah but, i don’t think i know an eric.” you stated, wary of what the girl before you was gonna say, “who is he?”

“…i just told you, some dude. i met him on campus and we just exchanged contacts after he complimented me, a while ago.” she replied, slight annoyance cracking through the facade of the joking expression she wore. she ran her dominant hand through her messy and wet hair, causing it to fall back perfectly on the side of her face and her exposed shoulders.

she added, “sure, he makes it very clear he wants to hook up with me, but that’s all it’ll ever be i think, he’s not the type of guy you’d wanna date seriously. why do you ask—“

“no reason.” you cut her off, cold and dry.

she furrowed her eyebrows, the previous annoyance being more and more apparent, this time only paired with confusion. “…what?”

“so this is completely normal for you? like, you guys hook up and call each other sometimes and you’re just casually telling me about it? what, does he take you out on dates too?”

“what are you, my girlfriend or something?” she scoffed, bitter and defensive, gently throwing the towel on the couch in close proximity to her, “and what if he does, why’s it such a big deal to you?”

why is it such a big deal to me?

and before you know it, you’re quickly matching her tone. “i simply don’t understand how you could tell me something so casually, especially right after we—“

“listen, let’s get this straight.” she says to you, “i know that just because you and i fuck sometimes you’re convinced that it’s gotta mean something, that we’re something, but we aren’t. it doesn’t fucking mean shit to either of us and you know that very well. it’s all in good fun; i don’t belong to you, y/n, and i never will.”

“it’s not about that?” you walked closer to her as you justified, trying to get your point across, “i’m not saying that you belong to me julie i’m just trying to say that—“

her stare pierces right through you as she cuts you off, and you could’ve sworn you noticed her eyes being glossy. her eyebrows furrowed in anger at you, she added on, “who i date isn’t your business. we’re just friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, end of discussion. don’t try to turn our friendship into something it isn’t.”

friends?

“so now i’m the crazy one for not liking the fact that you’re talking to that dude?” you eventually yelled back. you didn’t even notice her grabbing her things as you talked, ready to head out, despite her hair still being wet from the recent shower. you, however, noticed how she took her still ringing phone and put on her favorite puffy jacket, her soft hand’s acrylic nails digging and clutching onto the mentioned cellular device as you rambled on and on, irritated beyond comprehension.

“we’re not fucking dating y/n, it’s all casual, i.. i’m not even into girls like that��” she asserted herself, trying her absolute hardest to sound as convincing as possible. you heard it, though, you heard that little twinge of doubt and guilt in her voice. it’s almost like she, herself, didn’t believe whatever nonsense was coming out of her mouth.

how funny was it to watch her say that all whilst having the fresh hickeys you left on her neck and collarbone not even a few hours ago?

perhaps eric will notice them, too.

perhaps with that, he’ll realize how good you treat her, how he’ll never be able to do it like you do.

how he’ll never be able to make her feel as good as you do.

“sure, you aren’t.” you scoffed at her words, before proceeding to add on, “since you swear you aren’t, how about you stop acting like you are? you know, instead of giving me shit for getting upset.”

“sorry?—“ she laughed bitterly, those words cut deep.

let me talk, you thought, let me place a damn word.

you continued, “no, seriously! you always do this julie, you always make me feel like i’m fucking insane for seeing it the way it is, for the way i see us. you’re convinced that there’s nothing between us, that we’re just friends, yet friends don’t randomly kiss me throughout the day for whatever reason, do they? they don’t fuck me and tell me that they love me in the process, do they?” as you spoke, she avoided your gaze and walked right past you, heading straight for the front door.

that’s when you recalled a certain moment, “sure, why not, let’s say, for your sake, that completely normal friends do fuck sometimes; they don’t buy you stupid lovey-dovey bullshit on valentine’s day and drive you to the middle of nowhere to stargaze, they do not take you out at night and take every opportunity to kiss you in public whenever nobody’s looking, they don’t fucking say they love you while you’re deep inside them— i mean for fuck’s sake julie do you hear yourself??”

she stopped in her tracks in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. she hates it when you read her like a book, she hates it when you call her out on being the way she acts with you, she hates it when you stare at her like that— she fucking hates you. she fucking hates you for making her feel the way she does, for making her question everything about herself, she hates herself for thinking about you whenever she’s with him—

she let out a noise, something in between a sob and a laugh, before looking back at you with tear-filled eyes, she stared at you, up and down. her eyebrows twitching slightly, she then set her eyes on the ground and bit her lip in what seems to be frustration, frustration aimed both at you and herself.

“if i knew it was gonna be like this, i would’ve never done anything with you to begin with.” her voice was shaky.

you watched her figure as she turned the doorknob and slammed the door on you, with a loud clack. just like that, the apartment was empty, silent and once again, peaceful.

she’d be back, of course, whether she decides to sleep somewhere else and come back the next day or sneak back in here in the middle of the night on this same day, she always comes back after a fight. still, despite knowing that, you couldn’t help but feel like drowning in your own guilt, as this argument wasn’t like any other other. her pained expression still vivid in your memory and terrorizing you, you were afraid that you might never see her again after that.

that was pure dramatization, however.

the only thing that occupied the deafening silence of the room was the muffled sound of julie sniffling and being on the phone with who you assumed to be that boy, already planning to meet up. then, you could’ve sworn you heard the name “eric?” being pronounced as it progressively faded in the distance as she walked away, basically confirming your theory.

that’s all that filled your house and your clouded mind.

that, and the sound of your pathetic sobbing.

#smut #kpop gg #female reader #kiss of life smut #kiss of life #julie han x female reader #julie x female reader #kiof smut #julie han #kpop girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop gg smut #julie kiss of life #julie kiss of life smut #julie kiof #julie kiof smut

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osachiyo · 3 months ago

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tw. fem!reader, reader is hinted to be chubby, cowgirl, praise, hinting at cum-eating at the end, fyodor basically worships the ground you step on, body worship, most likely ooc but it's whatever, just overall very soft n cute :) mdni

an. i always imagined fyodor with a chubbier reader, idk - i just love the contrast so much <3 so this is a drabble for my friend (love u maya ty for buying me nitro...) ^^ this has been in my drafts for way too long. 0.6k wrds

fyodor took a sharp intake of air as he focused on the view in front of him — you, oh sweet you on top of him, lowering your hips onto him as your pretty little cunt swallowed more and more of his cock. his face was flushed to a pretty pink, pupils dilated in lust and sheer passion he held for you.

"mmh, you feel so good, love," he moaned softly, hand reaching up to knead the fat of your thigh. his breath quickened at feeling you clench from the genuine praise he gave you. your swollen, glossy lips parted to let out moans of his name, making his length throb inside your gooey walls.

"f-fedya," you gasped when he suddenly thrust up into you, his cock being pushed directly against your g-spot.

"ohh yes, darling — does that feel good?" fyodor cooed at the cock drunk look on your pretty face, it suited you so much.

god, you looked absolutely heavenly to him — the soft moonlight peeking through the thin curtains practically made you glow — not to mention how sexy your body looked. he loved how... soft you were compared to him — the delicate rolls on your back, your soft 'n squishy tummy, the plush of your ass and ugh, those delectable thighs of yours — it all made his head spin.

not to mention how your tits would jiggle everytime you bounced up and down on his sensitive cock, it made him want to bite them — mark them as his.

"oh darling, i just can't take my eyes off of you," he confessed, thin lips curling up into a smirk at the bashful look on your face.

you continued moving up and down on his cock, throwing your head back when fyodor decided to fuck up into you again — resulting in an almost pornographic moan leaving your lips.

he reached his free hand up to flick and rub at your clit, rolling the little nub between his slim fingers — making your pace stutter and pussy tighten around him. "you feel so good, моя любовь, " he tipped his head back into the soft pillow, biting down on his bottom lip as you gushed on his dick. you could feel him throb inside you, balls slapping against your ass, while you ground your hips onto him.

fyodor felt like he was in a trance — you made it look so good, and feel even better. "close?" you whispered, a moan getting caught in your throat when fyodor started thrusting up even faster — and harder than before.

fuck yes. fyodor was so close to hitting that peak that he so badly needed — but he wanted you to cum first. he needed you to cum first. could he really call himself your man if he didn't make you cum before him?

and make you cum he did — your pretty nails digging into his bony shoulders as you threw your head back from finally reaching your high, juicy cunt fluttering and pulsating around his throbbing cock — fyodor's hips stuttering as cursed breaths left him, trying not to clench his eyes shut as he admired the blissed-out look on your face.

"beautiful," fyodor moaned softly as he finally came deep inside you — his warmth filling up your sticky walls so nicely.

"you're beautiful," you breathed out, watching his eyes soften — a hearty chuckle leaving his pale, thin lips before devouring yours in a passionate yet hungry kiss.

you gasped loudly when fyodor laid you on your back on the silk sheets — kissing his way down from your soft tummy to your heavenly cunt. you sighed softly when he parted your legs, pupils dialating from the filthy view of his spent leaking down your folds and on his bedsheets —

how could he NOT have a taste?

#bungou stray dogs #bsd smut #bsd x reader smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader smut #bungou stray dogs smut #fyodor smut #fyodor x reader smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader smut

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stargirl-russo · 16 days ago

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Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #arsenal women #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #womens football #alessia russo x y/n #woso #woso community #awfc #awfc imagine

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eddiepeaches · 8 months ago

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so a few months ago I went to the WGF library in Los Angeles and read all the scripts for ofmd s1, some of them were later drafts and some were earlier, idk how early but a lot changed. they were good scripts but the final product is MUCH much better, the actors really brought the characters to life and I suspect there was even more improv than we thought there was. anyway I wrote down some of the stuff that I thought was kinda fun or interesting:

-Izzy/Fang/Ivan helped get Stede's ship unstuck in episode 2, their dynamic was less antagonistic and more kinda silly

-Blackbeard was described as having David Lee Roth vibes

-lots more of Pete's Blackbeard stories

-Buttons started the trend of pirates having birds on their shoulders by bringing Karl to the Republic of Pirates

-the crew had a Ye Olde Chore Wheel for the ship

-Jim inspired Ivan to explore his gender identity

-Roach was part of Lucius' little polycule

-there was a cute line where Stede was talking to his daughter and said "your Uncle Edward would love you"

-Alma had slightly more screentime in general, they were playing up her being a tomboy, wearing pants, and working in a stable iirc

-Stede was even more incredibly chill about Doug replacing him lmao he referred to Doug as "your father" when talking to Louis

-the Ed/Stede kiss was NOT in the draft I read!! it was still romantic but they just like bumped shoulders or something

-Stede picked up a waterlogged Lucius before he made it to the desert island to save the rest of the crew

-Izzy was revealed to be one of the Siete Gallos at the very end

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #edward teach

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guiltysungho · 6 months ago

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— boynextdoor when you say you want to fuck in public

genre. 18+ smut mdni

warning. public sex, oral (f. recieving), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, smell kink, hair pulling, mirror sex

wordcount. 300 - 400 each

a/n. idk how i feel about these tbh but i just want to get it out of my drafts atp. enjoy !

sungho was sure he misheard you, the room was filled with other students studying quietly, you couldn’t possibly want that now. he glances at you with a confused frown, but you really can’t hold yourself back leaning closer to him pressing your lips against his into a soft kiss, sliding your hand on his thigh feeling the heat from his growing member spread across the area. the setting is too risky for poor sungho even though he wants you just as much. his fingers slide around your throat pulling you back gently, holding you at a slight distance from his lips, your eyes just begging for more.

before you can say anything that would send him even more off the edge he grabs your hand leading you to a studyroom. the moment you step in he’s all over you, kissing your neck so hungrily as he presses his body against your you on the wall.

“we have to be quick, okay?” his hands under your skirt grabbing the rim of your panties, pulling them down and into his pocket. you let him work his way on you, thrusting his fingers in your cramped hole, loving how wet and desperate you were, taking out his cock through his zipper.

the thrill drives him wild, knowing that any second now someone would walk into the reserved space made his thrusts deeper. he’s not usually a risk taker but he could never resist you.

riwoo can’t help the smile that grows at the sound of that. the fact that you can’t hold back for a couple hours, and would rather have him fuck you in a theater filled with an audience, was more than attractive to him. luckily for you the area you occupied was less cramped with people and the lights were starting to turn off.

he gives you no warning before sliding his fingers inside your wet cunt, knowing from the soft gasps you let out that you were enjoying every moment of it. watching the way your legs trembled at his touch, forcing you to bite your lower lips to mute the noises you so badly wanted to make.

a movie is about one hour and thirty minutes and he plans on making good use of that time, he wouldn’t let you cum right away you didn’t get that luxury after putting the both of you at such a risk. he’d just leave you more and more needy, toying with your sensitive parts enjoying how hard you struggle to stay calm.

when he finally decides to fuck your aching cunt he sits you on his lap bending you over far enough to not block the large screen, using you like a fucktoy bouncing your ass up and down on his hard shaft. the feeling of your warm walls clenching around his member quickens his motion, the slight noise of your skins clapping seems like the only sound in the room just as you both come to an orgasm with the credits roll. the lights coming on make you realize the gravity of your action, every glance in your direction making you more guilty, but riwoo loved this perverse side of you.

the soft brush of your words against jaehyun’s ears are already enough to make him aroused but the words that come out are even worse. he turns to you with wide eyes wondering why you would joke about that but the desperate look in your eyes made it clear it was no joke, you wanted him right there by the sea.

the beach was basically empty the sun had set and no one was passing by apart from the occasional night walker so it was safe enough but it was a public space there was no saying what could happen.

as he weighed the pros and cons in his mind with you beside him, you take the opportunity to give him sweet kisses on his skin, his sensitive skin, neck down to his pebbled nipples. his fingers running through your hair as you suck on his skin.

“you’re driving me crazy” he breaths out lifting your head back up to meet his lips with yours, moaning softly into your mouth as you get on top of him grinding your lower body against his.

a loud thud from a distance makes him pull away immediately turning over to the sound that was made by the wind knocking over some parasols. you smile at his cute nervousness, placing a soft kiss on his pout. he wraps his arms around your waist as you kneel inside front of him, nuzzling into the comfort of your belly, the smell from your throbbing hole driving him more needy.

soft kisses on your belly down to your bikini bottom, pressing his nose against it, letting his tongue taste the leak escaping through your panties. he unties your bikini delicately, revealing your pretty pussy. he wastes no more time, going in head first kissing your perfect folds. he’s so drunk on the smell, the taste all his worries vanish. his tongue pushing in your walls brush so slightly against your spot making your hips jerk.

he takes such good care of you, sucking gently on your clit, he’s about sure that the lewd sounds escaping your lips at every tongue flick might make him release himself in his trunks but he can’t help himself, he just loves your sweet honey.

taesan smirks at you on the side of the couch after reading your horny text, your feet are rubbing against his growing bulge as you stare at him daringly, he’s amused by it. he wouldn’t have thought you would go so far in a room with your friends but he liked that about you, you were unpredictable.

unbelievable too, he knew this was probably just for show but he wouldn’t let you off so easily. he spreads his legs open leaning back on the seat before tapping his thighs for you to make yourself at home. you make sure to press your ass against him, enjoying all the heat that came from it.

you only dared to do these stuff when you were sure you wouldn’t get caught when all your friends were focused on something else in another room but taesan didn’t care that much for the eyes lingering, you would be the one they would watch because you allowed it happen to yourself, you let yourself get used in such a setting.

his fingers rub against your swollen pearl through your panties feeling your wetness seep through the thin fabric as you struggle to keep still from the feeling. the sudden sound of footsteps bringing you to panic tapping his hand repeatedly for him to stop but action only makes him quicken his pace.

“Is this not what you wanted?” he whispers into your ear, pulling away just as your friend approaches you asking for something so pointless you can’t even think, sending him away with an “i don’t know” your mind completely blurred by the heavy stimulation on your clit.

“Do you still want it baby?” sliding his fingers into your hole he doesn’t need an answer he already knows how desperately you do, turning yourself around to face him thighs around his waist.

you let him take charge, let him use you completely, kissing you so hungrily as he fucks your tight pussy, whispering filthy words on your lips about how naughty you are. he’s so rough with you, making you beg for him to let you cum on his dick after he’d creampied your needy hole.

as he sat there leehan’s eyes were already all over your body, watching you slip in and out of the dresses you’d picked out from the aisles. he was really trying not to make it a big deal but it was like you were teasing him on purpose. bending over to take off your skirts giving him a perfect view of your ass, the lengths of the skirts only getting shorter, his eyes couldn’t budge from your peeking cameltoe as you asked what he thought, nodding absentmindedly before finally tearing his gaze away giving you a tight lipped smile.

he was so oblivious it was cute, he didn’t want to assume anything but you were practically begging for it at this point. you finally make your move taking his hand, pressing his index finger against your cameltoe letting him poke, play with your lips through your panties. he looks up at you begging for more confirmation that he was doing what you wanted.

“this is risky sweetheart… promise you’ll be quiet?” you nod carefully running your fingers through his mane as he mindlessly caresses your thighs with his fingers, letting them glide along your inner thighs. just soft brushes from his fingertips but the feeling is exhilarating making your pussy clench around nothing but air.

“don’t make promises you can’t keep” he smiles at you as he stood up now looking down at you with that cocky smile. he turns you around slowly to look at yourself in the mirror, at how needy you look, as he presses gentle kisses on your shoulder.

the feeling of his cock poking your ass only made you want him inside you more, rolling your hips erotically for him. he didn’t stop his teasing pushing his cock against your hole through your panties, his precum staining the fabric.

he knows you won’t be quiet when he starts fucking you, you never are, so he’ll keep you desperate a little longer to make up for you breaking the promise. it’s not your fault his dick just hits every spot so perfectly you can’t help the moaning and whining.

he wraps his hand around your mouth around your jaw, giving you a soft kiss on the head before thrusting himself inside you, watching the way your eyes roll back in the reflection. your muffled whines against his ears make it so thrilling.

your vision blurs at every thrust, completely lost on the feeling of him inside you, his hard thickness spreading out your pussy like it’s never been used before. he loves how easily you cum for him, letting his fingers stroke your clit as his cock fucks you dumb, watching how beautifully you crumble from his touch. if you ask nicely, he’ll fuck you anywhere as long as you’re quiet.

#bnd #bnd x reader #boynextdoor #gs.files #boynextdoor smut #bnd smut #leehan smut #taesan smut #riwoo smut #sungho smut #myung jaehyun smut

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niceonejames7 · 11 days ago

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kisses and chicken noodle soup.

remus lupin x reader

words: 914

genre: fluff, sickfic

content: remus comes home to find you passed out on the couch, so he thinks of the best quick aid he can, kisses and chicken noodle soup.

a/n: im writing too many things at once and haven't finished anything that I actually wanted to post. so you get this draft (which kinda sucks) that I wrote a while ago(I think I've posted this before idk) this is all very self indulgent.

...

It had been a long day, too long for your liking. Your feet feel like they don't want to move, at all as you step inside the house. But sadness takes over you as you realise no one's home. You had been wishing that Remus would be home, so you could crash into his arms and fall asleep, but the house is empty.

Tears prick your eyes because your head hurts too much, and there is no food at home but you power through and make yourself some instant noodles to absolve your hunger. This wasn't going to fill your stomach, but you had no energy left to make anything else.

As you eat the noodles and watch the show ongoing on tv, the fatigue takes over you and you feel your eyes drooping. You adjust your position and as soon as your head hits the pillow, you're out.

…

Remus comes home to find the door unlocked. A panic set in his stomach and he rushed inside, only to find you sprawled out on the couch, your arms and one leg dangling. He chuckles and sets his bag on the floor to fix your posture.

The top of your nose was already red, your forehead warm to touch. Remus' throat made a cooing sound he didn't think he was capable of making as he muttered to himself, "Poor baby."

His hand caressed your cheek and your hair as he slowly started to wake you up.

"Dovey, c'mon, wake up."

You could hear a muffled voice and your hands instinctively reached for him, searching his face. Your hands found the nape of his neck, your thumb across his cheeks and you had wanted to smile but a small frown formed on your lips, "Hi, baby."

Remus chuckles and wraps his hands around yours and shakes your arm once more, "Bub, if you don't wake up you're going to get cold soup."

The promise of soup was enough to open your eyes, but you immediately squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light.

"Oh I'm sorry," he muttered apologetically and scrambled to turn the lights off and switch on the lamp nearby, all the while his hands never left yours.

As he tugged on your arms to get you to open your eyes, it only deepened your frown,

"What happened? Does something hurt?" Remus asks, his eyes searching for a sign.

"You're blurry." You say in a timid voice and a grin breaks out on Remus' face, and he laughs before leaning into your lips, saying, "You're cute when you're sick."

You raise your intertwined hands to your face as he gets closer, the frown on your face never leaving, "No, you'll get sick."

At this Remus releases his grip and takes your face in his hands, and kisses your jaw, then proceeds up to your cheeks, a peck on your nose then finally a sweet kiss to your lips.

"I'm supernatural, your germs don't bother me." It was an excuse to kiss you, as if he would leave any chance to do so. And also, one kiss doesn't hurt anybody, Remus decided.

Remus especially didn't regret his actions when a smile, however small, finally bloomed on your face, smoothing out your frown, and he kissed your nose again.

After taking a few seconds to admire you, Remus snapped back to himself and patted your cheek softly to wake you up, "C'mon, I made you chicken noodle soup."

You slowly got up from your horizontal position, which was an awful reminder of how much your body and head hurt. You groaned as your stretched out your limbs, pressing your fingers to your head, trying to relieve your headache.

Remus ran his fingers through your hair, a comforting motion over all the pain in your body. It always made you feel a little bit guilty, when you complained about being sick or being in pain. When Remus goes through so much, and you can't tolerate a headache.

"I'm sorry you have to put up with me," You say timidly, your voice a little hoarse, "One headache is enough to take me down."

This caused Remus to frown, "First of all, you have a fever."

He continues in a stern voice, "No, look at me. You're sick and in pain, I would never think of taking care of you 'putting up with you'. Do you understand?"

A smile again adorned your face, and Remus felt like he had achieved something, a personal victory.

You nod and he returns your smile, which lights up his face and all you want to do is pepper his face with kisses.

He takes the bowl of soup in his hands, and sits down on the couch, facing you after turning on the TV. He knew he was in for either a sitcom re-watch or a sappy romantic movie, not that he was complaining.

After you took the last spoon of soup Remus gave you, and made you take your medicines, you immediately cuddled up to him, giving him no time to adjust and wrapping yourself around him. He smelt nice, and so soft. The jumper he had put on was unbelievably soft.

You could already feel yourself falling asleep as you cozied up in his arms and his lips kissed your forehead.

"I love you." You say, like a whisper fading away in the air, but Remus doesn't fail to catch and whisper it back to you,

"I love you too."

....

another thing! can't believe my poly!marauders fic caught on so much traction! thanks guys, honestly inspired me too much and now I have too much to do

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin #marauders #hp marauders #the marauders #moony #remus lupin fanfiction

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heartsandhischier · 8 months ago

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definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you first moved to New Jersey, you felt completely lost. Don’t take it the wrong way, it was great—a prestigious college, a change of scenery, and the promise of a fresh start. But your journey took an unexpected turn when you bumber into someone, quite literally crashed into someone, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee.

That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted by the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly, you became best friends, each other’s anchor in this new and unfamiliar state. You were each other’s confidants and biggest supporters, always there to lift one another up, no matter the challenge—cheering him on from the stands during his rookie year while he helped you with your schoolwork, or at least tried to…

You supported each other through thick and thin.

When you suddenly found yourself without an apartment, Jack didn’t hesitate to offer you his guest room. What started as a temporary arrangement soon turned into something more permanent, as both of you realized that living together just felt right. What was meant to be a short-term solution naturally evolved into a lasting living situation.

When Luke was drafted, you were perched on the edge of your seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils prepared to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you jumped up from the couch, overwhelmed with joy. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant to Jack—being able to play alongside his brother, to grow and improve together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. He had told you before, that if Luke was drafted by the Devils, he would move into the apartment. Rather than feeling any apprehension, your strong friendship with Jack made you excited to live with the two brothers.

But here you were, pounding angrily on the shared bathrrom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna be late!” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant or fun as you had imagined.

Luke was definetely the annoying brother of the three.

Unlike Jack, who was always kidn and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence. He often made snide, witty comments, as if he took some kind of pleasure in getting under your skin.

The apartment had turned into a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. In jack’s absence, there was no one to play the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you from getting at each others throats. Luke was leaving the bathroom a mess, his toiletries scattered everywhere, piling dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and even taking your clothes out of the dryer and dumping them on the floor so he could use the machine. He even went as far as throwing a party the night before your midterm.You couldn’t hep but feel like he was doing all of this on purpose. You knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency—Jack was living proof of that. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose. Luke was intentionally firing you up, pushing your buttons. And what bothered you the most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung the it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair damp, a towel casually wrapped around his waist, showing off his toned muscles. “You don’t need to spend that much time in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you snapped, arms crossed in frustration.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke shot back, a smug smirk spreading across his face.

“No, like shit,” you fired back, not missing a beat.

“Well, you’re not exactly a sight for sore eyes yourself. So you don’t really need the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly satisfied with his comeback. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, eager to get on with your day.

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees, begging. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after endless stress, Jack insisted that you’d join them, arguing that you deserved a break. However, his team included a certain someone—Luke. The thought of spending hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered wiggling his eyebrows, trying to sweeten the deal with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation, “Come on, we both know you’d do that anyways,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully at him.

“Please, I’ll clean the bathroom for the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Fine, four weeks. And I’ll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook brocolli.”

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you asked, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiousity in your voice. Jack chuckled at your questiong, catching your eyes in the mirror as he straigthened his jacket. “What, have you suddenly become best friend with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you snorted, “Just wanted to know if I needed to prepare for a battle to get us in the back seat.”

The Uber sped through the bustling streets of New York, skyscrapers flashing by in a blur. Luke had headed out erly with Holtz and Mercer, granting you a rare moment of peace on the drive to the club, free from the usual bickering.

The elevator chimed, announding your arrival at the club’s level. As the doors slid open, you were greeted by a breathtaking panoramic view of New York City—the virbant lights and endless stretched out before you, leaving you momentarily speechless. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack playfully nudged you, his smile infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically beneath the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. With a reassuring grip, jack took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates—they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They had a way of making you feel like you belonged, as if you were a part of the team.

And then there was Luke.

He didn’t even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in his conversation with Timo to care—yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, the drinks were served—Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favourite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack had even gone out of his way to make sure you got your favourite drink.

After a few more drinks and plenty of hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music immediately took over as you started moving, and you found yourself actually enjoying the moment. Dancing with Jack, you felt genuinely happy, grateful that you’d agreed to go out. In that moment, you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, completely lost in the ruthm and music, you noticed your glass was empty. Sldiding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, skillfully navigating the sea of people, all moving to the same infectious beat. The bartenders were a blur of activity, moving with swift precision as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by eager club-goers.

While waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What are you getting beautiful?” he slurred. He was undeniably handsome, but the whole encounted made you feel uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.

He leaned in closed, his breath hot against your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” a shiver ran down your spine, and not the good kind. All you could muster was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden, unwelcome move, he leaned in, clearly aiming for a kiss. You froze, unable to move, instinctively shutting your eyes, bracing for impact.

But the kiss never came. Eyes still closed, you heard commotion.

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger, his body tense as he had pushed the man away, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked, his voice softening as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering an unexpected sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving a small nod, your mind still racing. What the fuck just happened?

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’ please.” The bartender nodded in acknowledgement and swiftly got to work on the drinks.

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand gently found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a suprising tenderness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, enveloped you, its rhythm quickly helping you forget the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, closer than you had ever been before. You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence, and it seemed he noticed, his hand resting gently on your hips, his voice teasing. “For someone who complains so much about me, you seem pretty okay with standing this close to me.”

His comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You quickly retorded, trying to mask your fluster, “Trust me, if the club wasn’t this packed, I’d be standing lightyears away from you.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realised how much you actually enjoy my company. All those complaints might just be your way of getting my attention.”

You sturggled to maintain your composure, caught off guard by the unexpected closeness. “Dream on Luke. If I wanted your attention I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back, trying to sound unfazed.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you,” he replied with that damn smirk—you wished you could just slap it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse and rushed through the lively crowd toward Jack at the table.

“Enjoying youself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you.

“Fine!” You responed, rolling our eyes at him. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them get my favourite drink,” you laughed, giving into his bright smile.

Jack joined the laughter, but there was in his response that made it seem like he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled as he looked at you. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favourite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

The next few weeks, you did everything you could to avoid Luke. The whole situation at the club… it left you confused. It was so unexpected, yet for some reason, you didn’t mind the closeness that you felt that night. But you couldn’t face him. You started waking up hours earlier than necessary just to avoid the usual bathroom fight, lingering around for extrahours before class or work. It was ruining your sleep schedule, but you convinced yourself it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone—3 AM. You let out a frustrated sigh. You couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your bedroom in an unbearable warmth. The stress of upcoming exams weighed heavily on your mind. And the thought of having to get up in just two hours to avoid Luke didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed—you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hung loosely around you.

Whatever.

At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyway.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimise the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, heading for the kitchen. The gentle glow from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room—Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned into dismay when you spotted the very person you’d been trying to hard to avoid for weeks on end—Luke. His back was turned, his curly messy, and a pair of pajama pants hung loosely around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders—everything was on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response—you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, but your slippers betrayed you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?”

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands—his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realise I had company,” you managed to say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” He wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to keep your distance, you did in fact live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3 AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then,” you replied, navigating the awkward silence that filled the room. You reached for a glass and made your way to the sink—coincidentally right next to where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence towering over you as you filled your glass with water.

“You know, for two people who claim to hate each other, we do end up in the same place a lot,” Luke observed with a smirk that you could feel rather than see.

You scoffed, trying to maintain a façade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment, Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don’t blame me for getting the ‘wrong idea’,” he countered.

“This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next tome.”

You scoffed, annoyed. “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Heart racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment was transformed tonight into lively space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend, you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible—a surprise party. You pulled all the strings, inviting friends and teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigated the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonised so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entiraly absorbed in conversation with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hitting it off, huh?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you responded, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the sight of Luke and that girl, felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you were feeling. He slapped your shoulder playfully, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a nonchalant shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming in your stomach. “No idea.”

“This is nice isn’t it?”

The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complementing the heat perfectly.

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together!” he joked, playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words—he genuinely missed these moments together.

And he was right, it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke had eventually affected Jack as well, since the two of the basically shared the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth—that you were avoiding Luke and then possibly having to explain why.

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I’ve been drowning in schoolwork lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful day, you suggested heading to one of your favourite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with to coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveawat—you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” the two curlyheads turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you put on a fake smile and settled into the chair next to Jack, doing your best to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly around you, but you remained quiet, occasionally offering a nod or a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, deliberately avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring him, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually , John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to your façade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”

Suddenly, the café’s cosy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the hot seat.

“Wha-what do you mean?” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I was not!” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling off his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice as a chuckle escaped.

“You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. It was better than telling him about Luke, right? After all, jack was still Luke’s older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardising your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your best friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even messier.

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates, the night serving as a farewell toast before everyone dispered for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone savouring each other’s company before the inevitable goodbyes. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and john, skillfully navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also… may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.

As you found yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning around, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. you managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled beside you. “Hey, Y/N, having fun?” he asked with a smile.

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”

An awkward silence fell between you, filled only by the sound of your silent sipping. John’s laughter suddenly cut through the tension, breaking the ice with ease as he chuckled at the obvious awkwardsness of the situation. “Y’know, Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting… about us.” You groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.

With a playful gesture, he pointed his finger between the both of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I just forgot?”

“No no no!” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around, desperate to clear up the situation. John, is of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it could’ve happened under different circumstances. The absurdity of it all hit both of you at once, and you burst out laughing, dissolving any lingering awkwardness between the two of you.

John theaterically placed a hand over his heart. “Phew, good. Wouldn’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” Your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly—until his words fully registered. You never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered you a pat on the shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passengerseat of a car, the lights of New Jersey streaking past you in a dizzyin display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state, you looked over to the driver’s seat—Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.

“I was sober tonight, Y/N. and you… you were way too drunk. We’re going home,” Luke responded, his tone lacking its usual lightness, replaced by a firm, blunt edge. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tensions hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cosying up with John?�� Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, one that echoed the same unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.

Words failed you as you tried to respond, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-formed words spilling out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was—that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part for inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, one hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.

“I’ll admit it, I got a bit jealous. But I know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you thigh a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite—you were trying to avoid him.

And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you?” The car came to a stop; you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, leaving you speechless. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused.

Right?

“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve—he knew. He knew that you had, in fact, been avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away. Luke didn’t look away either; it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering—melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer,deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself.

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

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