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loaksky · 1 year ago

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— 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔

collegebff!ellie x fem!reader based on this ask ! fluff / angst / suggestive content / bff2l , wc: 7.1k (sum1 sedate me)

synopsis: since the beginning of college, it’s always been you and ellie. you like to think you’ve got her figured out, but there’s one thing you can’t get a read on and it’s the matters of her heart.

content warnings: language, suggestive content, kissing, ellie’s clueless and reader’s shy. (seemingly) one-sided pining, jazz cabb. this is literally self-indulgent mush.

fic soundtrack: like i want you — giveon / can i — kehlani / electric — alina baraz & khalid / sdp interlude — travis scott / options — doja cat & JID

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

YOU MEET ELLIE BY CHANCE during the first week of freshman year.

It’s a story you recall often in the wee hours of the night, giggling and side-by-side in her full size. The room usually reeks of weed, blanketed by stale incense and Ellie’s favorite cologne.

She’d been skating across the campus quad on her splintered deck in hot pursuit of her mis-located class when she chanced a peek at her cracked phone screen for the time. You’d been equally engrossed, coffee and unread text message from your new roomie occupying far too much attention to realize that Ellie’d been heading straight for you.

Next thing you knew, you were wearing your coffee and Ellie had scraped an elbow and a knee.

“Fuuuuuck,” Ellie moaned, cradling her elbow while inspecting the asphalt burn on her kneecap.

Your quiet sigh of disappointment caught her attention and her eyes were widening when she noticed the growing splotch of milky brown splattering your fitted white top.

“Dude, fuck, I’m so sorry,” Ellie spluttered, scrambling to collect your empty cup and your phone.

She’d inspected the screen to assess the damage, let out a sigh of relief to find it in pristine condition.

“S’okay,” you huffed out a breathy laugh, taking the phone from her as she stretched to grab for her discarded deck. “Accidents happen.”

“Your—” Ellie’s cheeks warmed when she’d noticed the full outline of your bra underneath your top. “Your shirt.”

Your lips parted once, twice, before your arms crossed over your chest in embarrassment. She wasn’t even able to offer you another apology, or anything else for that matter, before you staggered off sheepishly.

She’d redeemed herself, obviously, if your friendship now was anything to go by.

The following week, she’d dipped out of her preluding class a few minutes early to file in line at the student-run coffee shop. She’d taken a snapshot of your coffee cup before throwing it in the bin the week prior, and next thing she knew, she was sitting on the steps of the building you’d emerged from the day of the debacle and hoped for the best.

When she heard the telltale sign of students emerging from the double doors at half past noon, she sprung to her feet so fast, she nearly toppled over.

And there you were, coming out of the math building in a pretty skirt that had Ellie wetting her lips.

“Uh, hey,” she called hesitantly when you blew right by her.

You threw a split-second glance over your shoulder once, then came full stop after the second.

Ellie traveled down the rest of the steps to join you, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her cargo shorts, other practically strangling the poor coffee cup.

“Oh.” You sounded surprised, eyebrows twitching up momentarily. “Hey.”

“This is, uh, for you,” she’d said, offering the drink to you.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed. “Y’know, ‘cuz last week and…”

You took the coffee, eyes glancing over the modifications scribbled on the side of the cup.

“How’d you know my order?” Your smile had been enough to make Ellie blow out a shaky breath.

“You left your cup.”

“Right,” you replied shyly. “Thanks, really. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Nah,” Ellie assured you. “I…I—”

And she’d been so fucking speechless because you were staring at her with round eyes through thick lashes. Had her spluttering like an idiot and wringing her unoccupied hands.

The rest—

“Well the rest is history,” Ellie mocks, reciting the end of that stupid story as she takes a deep pull from the skinny joint and watches you through the mirror as you get ready.

You let out a little laugh as you roll a clump of mascara from your corner lashes, the memory fresh in your brain like it’d happened days ago.

In reality, the two of you have been glued for nearly three years. It’s a thought that makes you ruminate a little too much for your liking. Makes you wonder if she’d felt the sparks like you did.

Sometimes you’re convinced that she had. That theses lines you've danced your entire friendship are just ticking moments waiting to detonate. There can’t be any other explanation.

Not when she’d started showing up outside of the math building every Tuesday and Thursday that semester and walked you to your next class. When it’d escalated to exchanging socials medias, then eventually phone numbers, and making plans to eat lunch during a mutual free period. Or hanging out off campus, orbiting each other at gatherings when you find that you've made some mutual friends.

And not now when she shows up every Wednesday evening no later than five past eight with takeout from your favorite spot right outside of campus. Not when she waits for you to finish tutoring outside of the library with your regular coffee in tow (surprise; you haven't changed your order since freshman year). Especially not when she drops what she’s doing, who she’s doing, every time you call.

Course it’s not like she can’t say the same. You’re her biggest supporter, her number one girl no matter what ways the others in your friend group and distant peers try to twist it. You’re there at every one of her research presentations for her astronomy major. Despite not having an athletic bone in your body, you’re at the skatepark with her on the weekends, cheering her on from the stone picnic tables. And when the sun goes down and she’s caked with sweat and dirt, you’re positioned between her knees as she sits on the hood of her car, hissing when you dab a little too much ointment on the cut across her cheek.

To the naked eye, you and Ellie are a lot more like lovers than friends, and the idea is one that makes your gut flutter, makes your toes tingle and your cheeks warm.

But those feelings are tamped down when, like clockwork, Ellie laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard. The picturesque fantasy you’ve built of being with Ellie as more than a friend is smeared. Because even if she doesn’t deny it, doesn’t correct whoever’s made the observation, she’s not confirming it either.

And, Jesus, you don’t want to read too much into it when things are so good between the two of you, but you can’t fucking help yourself when it comes to her. Can’t help but want her when she does what she does, when she looks the way she does.

Your eyes flicker up when the springs in your mattress creak and Ellie’s climbing off your bed to lean against the edge of the desk.

She doesn’t say anything, just swipes the edge of your bottom lip absently, a mixture of your sticky lipgloss and saliva coming off on the pad of her thumb.

“Too much,” is all she says, kicking off the desk to shrug her hoodie on over her black tank top. She’s halfway out your bedroom when she turns to glance at you over her shoulder. “You coming or what? We’re gonna be late, dingus.”

“Yeah...yeah, coming.”

Party’s in full swing when you squeeze in. The bass shakes the grass as you cross the front lawn and the LEDs glow through the closed curtains. For the most part, the festivities are contained, a few bodies on the porch smoking a mixture of cigarettes and greens, but as soon as you and Ellie are sliding through the door, it’s like the vibes start melting and Ellie’s getting into the zone.

She’s in her element like this, couple of prerolls in her pocket for when she’ll find a quiet place out on a balcony or squeeze onto the roof from somebody’s unlocked bedroom and smoke with some friends who’ll either bum a couple passes or pay in full.

“You wanna drink?” Ellie asks you when you guys find a good spot in the living room.

“Sure,” you agree easily. “Seltzer if they have it.”

She nods.

“Gotcha, I’ll be back.”

She’s disappearing into the crowd and you take the opportunity to assess your surroundings. It’s relatively laidback, couple of familiar faces from different lectures and seminars soothing the tiny niggling of anxiety that blooms behind your navel. The living room is shrouded in mood lighting and the vibrations from the speakers rattle the walls.

“Wait, was that Williams?”

Your ears perk when you hear it, eyes flitting to a group of girls that stand in a clump near the stereo.

“Yeah, she’s headed towards the kitchen,” one of the girls says, tall and willowy.

“Think I should?” the girl towards the middle asks.

She’s too pretty for her own good, has glittery shimmer on her eyelids, pearlescent lipgloss and low rise jeans that hug her ass like they were hand-crafted for her.

Something green starts to swell.

“What?” another asks, and you recognize her from discrete calculus.

“Should I talk to her?” Glittery Eyeshadow says.

“Why not?” Your calculus classmate shrugs. “Her little shadow’s not around.”

Okay, wow. Ouch.

You angle your body away, turn your head to hide the burn of your cheeks and to tune in a little better.

“You sure that’s not her girl?” the tall one asks. “They kinda seem like they’re together.”

“Doubt it,” your classmate chuffs like she knows something they don’t. From the corner of your eye, you see them lean in close to each other. “Ellie’s been with a coupla girls on campus. Heard she gives phenomenal head.”

That makes you swallow so hard, your eyes begin to burn.

Ellie usually kept her love life hush, didn’t really mention the likes of anyone else around you, and you’d always been too shy, too enamored to ask. Perhaps too afraid of what the confirmation of her escapades would do to you.

This was Exhibit A.

“Let’s add to that list,” Glittery Eyeshadow says, and your heart absolutely sinks to your ass when you see her walk confidently across the living room and into the kitchen.

You see them from the cutout, and your breath hitches when a switch flips and Glittery Eyeshadow’s tapping Ellie’s shoulder gently, tucking her hands behind her back when she turns on her heel.

Ellie’s widened eyes go soft, a small smile easing its way onto her lips as the girl says something that has your best friend laughing behind a sip of the drink she cracks open. You see the seltzer, the one you’d requested being cracked open and offered to the girl.

“What a lucky fuckin’ bitch,” your calc classmate giggles. “Ellie’s sooo hot.”

“How much do you wanna put on it that it’s not gonna happen?” Tall Girl huffs a laugh.

“No way,” her counterpart scoffs. “Liv’s got infinite ways into anyone’s pants.”

You put a name to the face, find that it’s fitting and feel the envy begin to roil full force.

Tall Girl hums thoughtfully.

“I dunno, Ellie and that one girl are virtually inseparable. Even if they’re not together, there’s something there for sure.”

You peek long enough to see your classmate roll her eyes, but when your gaze swings back to the kitchen, Ellie and Liv are nowhere to be found.

Panic begins to cloud your system, absence of any alcohol or weed making you far too aware of how fucking awful all of this makes you feel.

You decide to stick around for a moment, back nearly plastered to the wall, but after a moment too long passes and you don’t see any sight of Ellie or Liv in the kitchen or through the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch, you’re peeling away.

The chitters from Liv’s friends die out when they realize you’d only been a few meters away.

The house had seemed like the perfect size when the two of you were walking up, but now, as you weave through every room and poke your head into empty bedrooms, it seems so much larger than you’d expected.

Your last resort is down a set of stairs nestled near the back of the house. There’s more music that bumps from the basement and you figure it’s why it seemed that the grass was rumbling outside.

The basement is finished, paneled and reeks of weed. There’s far less people down here from what you can observe from the railing, but you clock Ellie and Liv before you make your full descent. They’re cozy on a loveseat, one of Liv’s legs is propped over Ellie’s knee while her manicured fingers fumble with some rolling paper.

You hear her over the thrum of the bass.

“You’re so much better at this than I am,” she moans. “Show me how?”

You’re still watching them over the railing, partially hidden by the drywall. And you’re glad, because you nearly retch when you see the way Ellie’s ringed fingers close over Liv’s and they roll the joint together. Ellie’s head is in her space to get a closer look, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that Liv’s pupils are probably blown wide from the proximity.

And fuck, the way the flat of Ellie’s tongue rolls over the edge absolutely seals the last nail just as she does the joint and you’re turning to shakily climb the steps again.

Maybe the two of you were better off as friends. Maybe you were reading way too much into things, into what the two of you could be.

Tonight only solidifies that.

Ellie is stupid, stupid, stupid.

She’d been halfway through the blunt she was sharing with the girl who’d cornered her in the kitchen when she remembers. Remembers that she’d left you upstairs. Only does so because Liv’s taking a swig of the seltzer that was meant to be yours and she’s pushing her leg from her knee and shooting up from the chair.

“Shit,” she breathes. “My bad, I gotta dip.”

Liv’s arched eyebrows raise.

“Huh?”

“I left my girl upstairs.”

And Liv’s eyes narrow.

“Your girl?” she asks, smoke wafting around her pinched expression.

“Yeah, my friend?” she says like you should be common information.

“The girl that follows you around like she’s leashed?” Liv laughs humorlessly.

Ellie’s confused. Like majorly confused right now. Liv had asked her to smoke, had been nice enough when they were chatting in the kitchen, but something’s flipped and it makes annoyance simmer in the pit of her belly.

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie says stonily.

Liv blinks.

“Dude, fuck you,” she bites, snatching the blunt from Liv’s fingertips. “You owe me forty for the wrapper and the roll. Venmo me by the end of fuckin’ night.”

Liv and a couple half-sober bystanders look stunned at Ellie’s outburst as she rushes from the basement and takes the stairs two at a time.

The first place she looks is where she’d left you, but you’re nowhere to be found. She nearly combs the house top to bottom searching for you, green eyes frantic as she flashes her lockscreen to shitfaced party-goers.

“You seen her?” she asks quickly.

The guy looks at the brightass screen, bleary-eyed.

“Her?” He points to the screen. “Left like fifteen minutes ago…I think. I dunno.”

And that makes it all the worse considering Ellie was your ride.

She’s dodging bodies, moving through the smoky foyer to get to the front door while she shoots you a text.

me: where’d u go bug???

Ellie’s slipping out of the house, taking survey of the front porch and the lawn, gut twisting when she doesn’t see the familiar silhouette of your neck or shoulders among the other bodies.

me: r u still here?

Ellie passes the hedges and jogs down the sidewalk as she presses the phone icon next to your contact and holds the phone between her shoulder and her ear.

She’s so engrossed in getting in contact with you that she barely notices you sitting on the curb a few feet from where she’d parked on the street.

“Jesus,” Ellie sighs in relief, hanging up as soon as the operator tells her to leave a message after the tone. “Been looking everywhere for you.”

You look up at her, blinking quickly like she’d caught you in a daze.

“Huh?”

Ellie’s brows furrow as she lowers herself to sit next to you.

“What d’you mean huh? You scared the shit outta me,” Ellie laughs breathlessly. “Thought you disappeared.”

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Just needed…”

Ellie watches you expectantly.

“Needed a breather,” you admit. “Got a little overwhelmed.”

Her expression falls, eyebrows drawing in concern as she tucks some of your hair from your face. The corners of her lips twitch when a mixture of the pale moonlight and the yellowing streetlights cast a glow over your features. Your lashes are wet and she finds your cheeks warm when her thumb brushes over the skin.

“Did something happen?” she asks suddenly. “Because I swear to god—”

You shrug away from her and stand, unable to stomach the gooey gaze she gives you or the gentle brushes against your skin. It makes you fall back into old habits, into trying to read between the lines.

“I’m gonna call an Uber home,” you tell her. “We just got here and I know the party’s barely started—”

“Nah, no, fuck this party,” Ellie says, standing up to invade your space again. “We can go home, it’s okay, bug.”

And the way she calls it home, like the two of you share, makes that thread tied to domesticity tug entire too hard for you to stand still.

(Perhaps Ellie’s too chicken to admit that home isn’t necessarily just under a roof, but wrapped in the warmth of your arms).

“Ellie—”

“Are you mad at me?” she asks hesitantly, and the look on her face is devastating.

Because no, you could never be mad at Ellie, not when she’s sweet despite being rough around the edges. You can only be mad at the circumstances, at yourself for letting your delusional heart get the best of you.

“No,” you say quickly. “God, no. I’m just not…feeling it tonight, I guess.”

You want to hate Ellie for looking wounded, but instead it makes your heart grow more around the shape of her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she almost whines, arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into her chest. “We coulda just stayed home and ordered pizza. Watch that stupid documentary you like.”

“S’not stupid,” you say weakly.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“But—”

“No butts except for yours in the front seat,” Ellie says, opening the passenger side door open for you. When you drop in the seat, she’s plopping her unlocked phone in your lap. “Order pizza. And none of that pineapple bullshit on my side or I die.”

You like to think that you could put the party behind you. That maybe you were being a little overdramatic. But after you’ve settled into your favorite spot on Ellie’s couch, wearing a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized shirt, the final crack shakes the front you’ve been maintaining for the past three years.

Ellie’s dozed off, only half a crust left from her half of the pizza sitting in the open box on top of the coffee table. Your documentary’s playing in the background, lulling your droopy eyes to close, but the faint buzzing of Ellie’s cell has you shifting awake.

You don’t mean to, but your ego’s been bruised and curiosity gets the better of you as you’re leaning forward to capture her phone from where it’s nestled between the remote, underneath the takeout box.

An unknown number flashes across the screen, a succession of texts sending the device fluttering in your sweaty palms.

It feels like the ultimate breach of privacy, like you’re using the fact that Ellie trusts you with her phone password in the worst way possible, and perhaps you are.

(307) 578 9432: got your number from your friend cat.

(307) 578 9432 sent $40

(307) 578 9432: here’s a tip <3

(307) 578 9432 sent a photo.

You don’t know what you expect, but a photograph of a girl’s tits definitely isn’t high on the list. A lump forms in your throat, choking the air from your lungs as the tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes.

You know that gemstone choker, seen the way it gleamed under the lowlight of the party when Liv had taken a deep breath before sauntering over to Ellie. It’s the same one in the racy photo, and it’s the last straw.

Ellie’s phone vibrates again.

(307) 578 9432: don’t let your lil pup see ! xx

And that sends you spiraling. Has you closing out of the text thread, sliding Ellie’s phone back in place, and shooting up from couch.

The sudden movement makes Ellie stir, but she never fully rouses from her sleep, and for once, you thank the universe for being on your side.

You’re collecting your things from where you’d discarded them on your way in, and it feels a lot like things are officially crumbling. And you don’t know why. Should’ve seen it coming, really.

She’d never see you that way. She’s leagues above you, charismatic and cool in a way that has everyone wanting a slice of what it’d be like to be friends with Ellie Williams. Doesn’t help that she’s so painfully attractive, energy magnetic. She’s so kind, too fucking smart for her own good, and a really really good friend.

You realize as you slip from her apartment and make the trek home, that maybe that’s all you and her were ever destined to be.

So you mark tonight in your books.

Tonight’s the night you’re gonna start falling out of love with Ellie Williams.

Ellie wakes up to the soft pings of her alarm and she’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she pats the area next to her in search of your sleeping form.

She comes up empty and she squints past the filtering sunlight to find that her apartment is completely still. The television’s been turned off, pizza boxes stacked neatly on the eat-in.

She calls your name, once, twice. But she’s met with absolute silence.

“What the fuck?” she mutters under her breath as she stands from the couch and stretches the sleep from her bones.

A quick glance at the digital clock underneath the TV shows that her 10am seminar starts in about half an hour.

Ellie decides, as she takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth, that she’ll call you on the way to class.

But as she skates across the campus, pushing so hard against the asphalt, her knees hurt, you don’t answer her calls. She’d being sent straight to voicemail and straight to confused frustration.

She’s one of the only people you have set to bypass DND, so she knows you’re ignoring her.

When she makes it to the science building, she kicks off her skateboard, straps it onto her backpack and jogs through the corridors.

Ellie’s sliding into her seat near the back of the lecture hall with a few minutes to spare, so she uses the shortcut on her phone to open your text thread, only to find that there are no new additions.

All that glares back at her are the messages she’d sent you last night when you disappeared from the party.

me: hey bug lunch after my sem? half-off day @ benny’s :)

me: also why won’t u answer my calls, you disappeared on me this morning :/

Just as the professor files in and starts getting ready for his lesson, Ellie’s phone vibrates and she frowns at your message.

lovebug: raincheck on lunch, got a lot of work to catch up on

Something feels way off, makes Ellie queasy.

me: cmon bug jus half an hr, wanna c u :/

lovebug: you saw me yesterday??

me: and ?? ur my best friend, wanna c u all the time

Little does Ellie know that that text makes your stomach roil, makes you curl tighter in a ball in your bed because not only does your room still smell like her from the night prior, but because you don’t have it in you to face the world right now.

When you don’t reply to her message, she huffs out a frustrated breath just as her closest friend after you takes a seat next to her.

“Oh, boy,” Jesse comments. “This can’t be good.”

Ellie falls back in her seat, frustration seeping off her in waves.

“She’s being weird as fuck,” she sighs.

“Who?”

“________,” Ellie fills.

“Oh, your lil’ girlfriend,” Jesse snorts. “Why, what’d you do this time?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Ellie whispers. “And stop calling her that.”

Jesse rolls his eyes.

“Don’t know how many times I gotta tell you it’s not like that,” she grumbles, closing out of your text thread in fear that it’ll drive her even more crazy looking at the Read at 10:01am.

As the professor begins his lecture, Ellie continues fumbling with her phone, only to see a thread from an unfamiliar number. Her brows furrow at the most recent message: don’t let your lil pup see ! xx.

Liv.

It had to be.

She hears Jesse choke on a gasp when she opens the thread and a 4K photo of Liv’s tits flash the screen.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ellie hisses under her breath.

Jesse’s snickering beside her, eyes wide as she accepts the forty dollars into her account and deletes the entire thread altogether.

“Hate that stupid—”

“Shh!”

You avoid Ellie like the plague.

It’s a difficult feat on its own considering Ellie knows your schedule like the back of her hand and she’s waiting outside your lectures for you to surface.

But you adapt quick and you’re taking side exits and different routes while you collect yourself enough to face her.

Nearly a week out and you find that the wound’s still too fresh to pick. Realize as much when Ellie finally corners you during a vulnerable moment in the late afternoon on the way to the library.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The voice startles you so much, you trip one foot in front of the other, and Ellie’s catching you before you can faceplant on the smooth concrete.

She’s righting you, hands dusting your shoulders off before bumping your dipped chin up to look down at your flushed face.

“Hello?”

“Around,” you answer meekly. “Been busy.”

“Alright, cut the shit,” Ellie sighs. “Last year you had that two week auditing BS and we still made time to see each other. You think you’re slick, but your location’s been pinging from home.”

“I can be busy at home,” you argue quietly. “And if you’re so hellbent on seeing me and you knew I was home, why didn’t you stop by?”

Ellie’s face softens.

“‘Cuz something’s obviously bothering you, bug,” she says, smoothing your hair from your face. “And I’ve been waiting on you to be a big girl and tell me what’s up, but it looks like I have to use other tactics.”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” you try again, gently guiding Ellie’s hands away and making a move to side step her in pursuit of the library.

“Bug, come on,” she groans, turning on her heel to watch you walk away. “I’m trying my best here, what’s got you pent up?”

“Nothing, Ellie!” you say so forcefully, she flinches. “I told you nothing’s fuckin’ wrong! Maybe I just want to be left the fuck alone!”

Ellie blinks hard.

“Oh.”

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes in defeat as your body goes slack.

“I- fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

She shakes her head.

“S’alright,” she assures you, taking a step away. Suddenly, the air seems to thicken. “Sort yourself out. Call me when you need me, I guess.”

“Ellie–”

She’s turning, dropping the board in her grip down onto the asphalt and mounting before the downslope and your eyes begin to water as you watch her figure grow smaller in the distance.

At first Ellie’d been a little disgruntled, maybe a little frustrated, but her feelings have since simmered and now all that remains is lingering sense of sadness.

There’s a you-shaped hole in her life, one that makes her stare at the swirling ceiling of her living room as she smokes through a joint by herself and wonders what the fuck happened to the two of you so suddenly.

She’s almost embarrassed with how quickly she launches from the couch when she hears three quick raps against the front door. Her yearning heart could only hope, but she’s deflating when she finds Jesse and Dina on the other side.

“Oh,” she sighs in disappointment.

“Oh?” Jesse huffs. “Oh?”

Ellie’s grumbling as she leaves the door open for them as a silent invitation, padding back into the living room to continue her moping session.

“We bring you Benny’s and it’s oh?” Jesse continues.

“Not hungry,” Ellie gripes, forearm draped over her eyes.

“Why the fuck not?” Dina whines. “We got so much food ’cuz you eat like a man.”

“Just not hungry,” Ellie mumbles.

She hears the plastic crinkling and then the telltale sign of Jesse throwing his body weight into the right side of the loveseat.

“Alright, what the fuck is going on?” he prods. “You’ve been weird and mopey for the last two weeks and it’s gross.”

Ellie’s arm falls away and she’s sitting up.

“I don’t fuckin’ get what her issue is!” Ellie moans, throwing her hands up in the air. “One day everything’s fuckin’ great and we’re good, but then it turns on a dime and she won’t even look at me!”

Dina and Jessa share a knowing glance.

“Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ellie grunts.

“Walk me through the last time the two of you talked and things were good,” Dina says, taking the arm rest next to Jesse.

“I think, like, two weeks ago at the party? We were at her house and I was smoking and then we just showed up to the party?” Ellie recounts.

“Okay, what else?” Jesse pries.

“Uh, I dunno, we walked in and I asked her if she wanted a drink,” Ellie continues. “While I’m in the kitchen, Liv comes in and asks me if I wanna smoke. Obvious yes, duh.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow.

“The girl who sent you a picture of her tits?”

“Ew, yes. But that’s besides the point,” Ellie huffs. “I rolled and smoked a little with Liv when I remembered leaving ________ up on the main floor, so I told Liv I had to dip to go get her.”

“You left the girl you’ve been in love with since freshman year all alone at some seedy party—”

“Not seedy, it was Marco’s!” Ellie argues. “And it was like fifteen minutes, tops!”

“Ellie!”

“What? I didn’t stick around anyways,” Ellie says like it assuages the entire situation. “She was being a cunt about me being friends with ________.”

“Okay, well there’s your issue,” Dina says matter-of-factly.

Ellie looks clueless.

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you?”

“Well obviously because I’m lost as fuck right now,” Ellie bites.

Dina rolls her eyes.

“You ditched her to smoke with some bitchy mean girl!” Dina says like it should make all the sense in the world. “And then said mean girl sent you a picture of her tits!”

“Okay, well how would—”

It clicks. Like an epiphany, Ellie’s shooting to her feet.

“Oh, fuck.”

It really does make sense now. Why you hadn’t been around the morning after, why she hadn’t seen a notification for Liv’s messages on her lockscreen, why the thread had already been marked as read.

“She saw the messages,” Ellie says, horrified. “Fuck, probably thinks me and Liv were making fun of her.”

Jesse groans.

“It’s way fuckin’ more than that, dipshit.”

Ellie’s brows furrow.

“Huh?”

“Christ, are you actually this airheaded or—”

“Okay, unnecessary,” Ellie interrupts.

“Do you not realize that the two of you have been in love with each other for the past three years?” Jesse cracks. “Of course she’s gonna be upset when you ditch her for other girls, when they send you nudes and—”

“I didn’t—”

“She’s jealous, Ellie,” Dina says. “Probably under the impression that you’re fucking around with Liv and she doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“Dude, there’s literally zero chance she likes me like that,” Ellie says hesitantly.

“I actually want to play in seven lanes of traffic right now, holy shit,” Jesse scoffs. “You have to be unforgivably blind to not see how fucking down bad that girl is for you.”

“Am I the only one not seeing this, like—”

“Yes.” Jesse and Dina are in unison.

Ellie shifts uncomfortably, rolling her lips as she collapses back in her seat.

“She’s my best friend,” Ellie sighs in defeat. “And I don’t want to ruin things with her. What if she…”

“You gotta take the plunge, Williams,” Jesse encourages. “There’s a lot more than something there.”

Ellie opens her mouth to argue again, but Dina’s cutting her off.

“Stop being such a pussy.”

“Wait, I don’t understand, you said it’s at the student planetarium?” you ask, rushing briskly across the campus.

“Fuck,” Dina mumbles over the receiver. “Yeah, almost positive. Astronomy club was having free donuts during lunch hour and I think I left it in the back row.”

“D!” you whine.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” she moans. “I’m the biggest idiot.”

“No, no,” you breathe, tote bag tight in your grasp as you break into a jog. “I get it, D. It’s the shark-shaped one, right?”

“Yes,” Dina confirms. “God, babe, I really owe you one.”

“You’re okay,” you assure her, climbing the steps to the science building. “I’m going in now. Should be there in less than ten.”

“Okay, I’ll be outside of the lecture hall.”

You hum your goodbye, line going dead as you enter the modern atrium. The area’s spacious, a replica skeleton of a massive dinosaur spanning the center of the entrance.

A digital directory built into one of the imposing square pillars indicates that the planetarium is on the third floor.

You’d only been in twice, both times for research presentations Ellie’d given. Her talk of the the stars and the vastness of the universe made you feel so small. So silly. Now you feel infinitely more silly hunting for a shark-shaped pencil case that houses Dina’s flashdrive she needs for her evening lecture’s slideshow presentation.

You decide to take the steps two at a time, choking for a breath by the time you make it up the third flight of stairs. The double doors to the planetarium are at the end of the hall, and if Dina’s directions are correct, the pencil case should be among the first few seats walking in.

Past the double doors, you find that Dina’s pencil case is, in fact, nowhere to be found in the first aisle that you check. But as something rustles down near the semi-illuminated podium, you find your Ellie standing from one of the front row seats. She turns to face you from the bottom of the auditorium, something akin to nervousness etched into her features.

“Ellie…” you swallow.

“Hey, bug.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brows furrowing as you fidget on the first step down, hand gripping the armrest of the last seat.

She rolls her lips, plays with the string of her hoodie as she sucks in a deep breath.

It’s now or never, Jesse pep-talked her on the way here, folder full of coordinates and computer commands pushed into her chest as he bounded away.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she starts. “I…I—”

“I have someplace to be, Ellie,” you interject. “Dina needs me.”

“Dina doesn’t have a presentation,” Ellie sighs guiltily. “She’s probably sitting on my couch eating my Doritos as payback for getting you over here.”

You look lost.

“Huh?”

“Listen, I knew you weren’t going to talk to me, let alone come all the way here if I asked, so…I got some help.”

And the thought makes you guilty. You and Ellie have been best friends for years. Have seen almost every ugly part of the other. But you don’t know how long you can handle being just that.

“It’s not…” You don’t even know what to say, how to deny the blatantly obvious.

“You’re my closest friend,” Ellie says. “I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without you, and…and these past few weeks have been so shit because this has felt like the end and I didn’t know why.”

You murmur her name, taking a step down.

“I have to ask you something.” Ellie’s throat bobs as she slowly climbs the steps. “And you have to be honest.”

You hesitate before nodding, breath hitching when she stands on the step below you, gazes eye level.

You’re sure she can practically feel the vibrations of your heart nearly beating from your chest, pounding against your ribcage and begging to intertwine with hers.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Did you leave because you saw Liv’s messages?” she asks bluntly.

Your cheeks warm and your gaze falters, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

“I—”

Ellie’s eyes are unblinking, sage and searing.

“Yeah,” you admit hoarsely. “You were asleep and she…she…yeah.”

“Why?” Ellie asks, watching you with bated breath.

This is it, she’s got you right where she wants you and this moment could be the final fissure that cracks the very facade of your friendship and sends the two of you as you know it up in flames.

Her face softens when she notices the tears welling in your eyes, the way your body language has shifted so much in these passing moments. It’s unfamiliar.

“It makes me sick,” you mumble in embarrassment, knuckling the brimming tears aways. “It’s so fucking stupid, but the idea of you with anyone else makes me fucking sick.”

Ellie’s stomach is in knots, knees like jelly and heart squeezing in anticipation.

“Why?” she repeats, voice catching in her throat.

“You know why,” you croak in defeat, expression crumpling.

Your name leaves her lips firmly, hands coming up to grasp your biceps.

“Don’t be cruel,” you hiccup.

Ellie’s biting the inside of her lip, eyes searching yours in contemplation before she’s digging in the pockets of her hoodie and producing the remote to the projectors.

She’s brushing past you, up the steps to hit the lights and fully submerge the room in a split second of darkness. Then a heartbeat passes before a constellation blooms near one of the edges of the domed ceiling.

August 20th, three years ago, labels the smattering of stars and the alignment of the planets.

“What’s this,” you whisper, breath hitching as Ellie leans against the back wall.

“The day we met, first Thursday of freshman year,” Ellie says shakily. “With that stupid fucking coffee. You were wearing that white shirt.”

Your throat tightens when another constellation appears, labeled a few weeks later.

“When we first talked. I got you another drink and started walking you to class.”

You realize that every knitting of stars and planetary bodies are captures of the skies in each labeled moment.

“There was something about you,” Ellie says. “There still is. But this one—” She clicks a button and the projection ripples, clouds rolling and stars twinkling like you’re looking up at the real night sky. “This is when I knew.”

Her voice is dangerously close, a hairsbreadth from your ear. You can feel the warmth of her body enveloping yours, toes curling as you look up to the date marked and mentally sort through your thoughts.

Her first research presentation.

“I was so fuckin’ nervous, bug. And I thought I was gonna shit myself, but then you came in at the last minute and you smiled at me and it felt like we were the only two people in the room,” she admits. “And when I finished that stupid presentation and you found me after those higher ups were talking my ear off about my findings, I—”

Your eyes are glassy as you remember the way Ellie seemed to deflate in relief when you slipped into the auditorium with seconds to spare.

“You…?”

“I realized that maybe you were it for me.”

The breath’s knocked from your lungs as Ellie slides her fingers through yours and tugs you down the shallow steps of the planetarium.

The both of you stop at the beginning of the podium’s circle, sheen of tears blurring your vision as you watch more projections sprout onto the screen like fireworks.

They’re all memories, ones that you’ve cherished since the beginning. You just hadn’t realized that Ellie held them as dearly as you did.

She sucks in a deep breath, hand squeezing yours. And god, she wants to look you in your eyes when she says it, but you make her weak and she’s losing courage.

“Guess what I’m trying to say is that...” She licks her lips, pushes the words out through the nausea. “I love you. A lot. And not just as a friend."

“Oh.”

And Ellie wants to shrink at your response, palms clammy as her fingers loosen.

She feels the dread filter in, mixed with a curdling feeling of regret. But something like sick relief floods her system all the same because this feels like a semblance of freedom.

“Ellie—”

It’s her final shot in the dark.

“Tell me I’m not reading into this wrong,” Ellie says softly. “There’s something here, right? I’m not batshit crazy, am I? I— I—”

Ellie’s frequently wondered what your lips taste like. How they would feel against her own. She’d always figured it’d be a good experience, something she could kick her feet to in the dead of night, but this? God, nothing compares to this.

You taste like peach chapstick and wintergreen, lips plush against hers and Ellie’s pounding heart stutters when your hands cup her cheeks.

You kiss her so fervently, she nearly misses it, the way you murmur against her mouth.

“I love you, Ellie,” you whisper between a breath. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”

You feel her giddy grin, feel the way her hesitant hands finally find purchase, fingertips searing the curve of your waist and the small of your back as you eliminate every space possible.

As the two of you meld together under the stars, Ellie realizes that, that maybe this is what coming home feels like.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams au

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bengals-barnesbabe · 2 months ago

Text

How That Shit Tastes

~ its a simple question, you’ve always wondered how it tastes… beer, nothing else ;)

joe burrow x gf!reader

TW: alcohol mentioned, mentions of oral (fem rec), playful!joe

“Thank You TikTok” | Main Masterlist

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙

~ a/n: just some goofy shit, fr tho i've never had beer and I have 0 desire to try it. But an ode to Kehlani’s album ‘You Should Be Here’ since I’m going to her concert tonight😋🤩

#black reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #nfl imagine #joe burrow bengals #text imagines #how that shit taste #thank you tiktok series #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #bengals barnesbabe

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sierrale8ne · 2 months ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS — MASTERLIST &. PLAYLIST

preface series infographic.

chapter one maraye is wildly talented and paige finds herself in nothing short of a trance.

chapter two just maraye being a courtside baddie, which means paige goes off. she wants that cookie real bad!

chapter three the dinner party is memorable, but maraye finds herself mentally fighting over something else: julian.

chapter four maraye faces some mental challenges about her sexuality, while handling the recent struggles her and julian’s relationship.

chapter five after a week of radio silence, paige and maraye share a much needed night together, only confirming that they are both in really deep.

chapter six in this game of cat and mouse, paige and maraye cross the line, and there is no going back.

chapter seven paige and maraye are left dealing with the consequences of their actions, and the overwhelming evidence against them.

chapter eight “just friends” they said, “it won’t happen again” they said.

chapter nine they’re on the verge of getting caught up, maybe a break is needed.

chapter ten paige knows what she wants, and it looks like maraye does too. it’s only a matter of time.

PLAYLIST !

40 days and 40 nights mariah the scientist ft. vory i’ll, give you your distance if you already made a commitment to be someone else’s; i must respect it.

fuck daisies payton knowing we’ve been here too long, made a mess, won’t see it through.

sos (sex on sight) victoria monet ft. usher i am way too sexy, to be alone. wanna show you what type, of time that im on.

unpredictable destin conrad ft. kiana ledé miss the feeling of a new memory. miss the feeling of waking up to something unpredictable.

different pages mariah the scientist you, aren’t the n**** that i thought you were. just a boy, will address you as such. and a boy could never be enough.

you don’t know me summer walker don’t get me wrong, i know it’s a lot. long flights, long nights, fast cars, it never stops.

8 [remix] kehlani ft. flo wouldn’t be me if i ain’t get a little nasty. lick me, rub me, kiss me, touch me, don’t put it past me.

love me not ravyn lenae it’s hard to leave you when i get you everywhere. all this time i’m thinking we can never be a pair.

ruined me muni long i won’t pretend i was perfect, like i don’t deserve some of this hurt i’ve been hurting.

the worst jhené aiko and though i don’t need you, i don’t need you, i don’t need you, i don’t need you: i still want you.

simple coco jones ft. babyface why is it so complicated? maybe cause that’s how God made it. he’s got his ways, but you’ve got yours too.

ur best friend kiana ledé ft. kehlani might’ve got too excited i’ll admit, almost called your name when he was in it.

taglist!!

kalena speakss 🪽! i just imbedded the playlist into this post bc i’m lazy lol. i hope this gives y’all a better look into the maraye’s sound as well as the overall feeling for this story!

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #40 days and 40 nights

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modanisgf · 3 months ago

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002. KEHLANI

prev | next | masterlist

TAGS 🏷️ (OPEN): @neptunedayss @pandafuriosa60 @yeetaberry127 @yncoreee @hotluvlet @eccobe @sixflame438 @saysirhc @haerinkisser @gtfoiydlyj @audizbiass @starstruckgoateepuppy @gigislovergirl @peranoo @danilvrr @mimsiemoo @pminjucaptor @gayforalll @yjiminswallet @grahstumhurts @nwjnsloona @he------len @artrizzler19 @taylorswiftsnumber1fann

a/n — lazy update sorry 😞😞

#newjeans #newjeans fanfic #newjeans smau #newjeans fluff #newjeans x reader #newjeans danielle #danielle x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle marsh #danielle new jeans #kpop x reader #kpop smau #kpop gg

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lowkeyrobin · 4 months ago

Note

hello! i was wondering if you could do walker scobell dating headcannons? youre one of the only blogs ive seen write for him!!

yeah sure! ; I do use this format for all dating stuff so I apologize if it isn't what you were thinking lol ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

WALKER SCOBELL ; dating shenanigans

summary ; dating stuff w walker

warnings ; language

word count ; 291

masterlist

he's genuinely the fucking funniest

he will always remember your interests and point out things that relate to them in stores or online

he sends you every edit of himself / you / both of you he finds on tiktok, he's obsessed

you both love going on adventures and seeing new things

and you both also love just being teens and being able to be kids outside the public

like going to arcades, waterparks, learning how to drive, etc

you met on the pjo set, since you were playing a minor character with like two lines

you had similar humor and just both hit it off so quickly

you became tight friends really quick

you also bonded over music taste

aka sabrina carpenter, chappell roan, kehlani, joey valance & brae etc

(if you don't listen to them then go listen)

you confessed first

he's so oblivious holy shit

but you took him to the arcade to hang out for a while

and you got in the photo booth

and did that tiktok trend of confessing and capturing his reaction on photo / video

it was so adorable omg

he obviously said yes, otherwise we wouldn't be here

he's like a 6 on pda

yall keep it lowkey but he's not afraid to hold ur hand or sling an arm around your shoulder at all times

he's not jealous either like... 1/10

he'll step in if he's getting weird vibes but yk it's not that often that ever happens

and finally some songs that match your vibe 🫶🫶

sweet oblivion ; david kushner

constellations ; jade lemac

dinner date ; sunrise academy

mona lisa ; sabrina carpenter

love who loves you back ; tokio hotel

don't delete the kisses ; wolf alice

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #walker scobell x gn reader #walker scobell x reader #pjo x gn reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader

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23victoria · 5 months ago

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1 v 1

lando norris x actresses!gamer!fem!reader

fc: maitreyi ramakrishnan

warnings: cussing

authors note: i like this one! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

lando.jpg

liked by charleslec.jpg, carlos55.jpg, lewishamilton, daniel3.jpg, mclaren, oscarrr.p.jpg and 2,934,897 others

gamergirl_y/n please stop killing me in COD 😓

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username1 no cause they way everyone he respawned she was there ready to kill him had me weakkkk

username2 LMFAOO she smoked you 😭😭

daniel3.jpg AHAHAHAHAHA 🤣🫵

oscarrr.p.jpg nah bro you just gotta learn how to fight back

↳ username5 @.oscarrr.p.jpg oscar please 😭✋

charleslec.jpg lando what happen to being champions?! 😪

carlos55.jpg if you suck just say that 🤣🤣

username93 lol that’s @.y/n_ig 🤣🤣

y/n_ig

liked by markruffalo, sza, rdj, yourbff, kehlani, cardib, zendaya and 4,363,991 others

got a new setup and it’s so cuteeeee!! also that boba was so fucking good we need to get some more @.yourbff sidenote whoever ln4gaming is sucks ass at COD 💀😭

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username1 nah cause the way you kept killing then 😭😭😭

yourrbff bruh i know whoever that was, was mad as helll

username6 nah cause how did you keep finding him?!?!

lovey/n but why didn’t he fight back…💀

username7 yea he needed to log off fr cause after that 😭✋

username10 you know how quickly I wouldn’t turned my shit off 😭

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twitter

messages

lando.jpg

liked by charlesleclerc, carlossainzjr, lewishamilton, landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 1,234,897 others

sooooo…i 1 v1 @.yn_ig in COD …and sadly i lost 😓 now i owe her food 😪

username13 LMFAOOO

username12 she literally destroyed you 😭😭

y/n_ig sucks to suck ig, thankfully i wouldn’t know 🤭

↳ lando.jpg @.y/n_ig you still want food right?!? 🤨

↳ y/n_ig @.lando.jpg yes please don’t deprive me of my food 🙏😔

username8 the stream was hilarious!! haven’t laughed like that in a min 🤣🤣🤣

username17 one of the best streams I’ve seen in a while

username43 never laughed so hard 😭😭

username2 nah y/n is mad good at COD 😭

carlossainzjr lando…do better

↳ lando.jpg @.carlossainzjr dude 😧 i’d like to see you try 😑

↳ carlossainzjr @.lando.jpg i would beat you 🥱

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twitter

landonorris just posted a new story!!

y/n_ig just posted a new story!

twitter

y/n_ig

liked by charlesleclerc, sza, lewishamilton, landonorris, disney, marvel, oscarpiastri and 4,568,897 others

lil dump 💖

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username13 cuteeee 💕

username14 omggg those cookies look delicious 🥴

username15 the cookies are soo cuteee☺️

username16 omg i love the phone case 🤗

username17 not the picture of her playing COD with lando 🤭

↳ f1gossip101 @.username17 👀👀👀

username18 her rings are so niceee!!

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lando.jpg

liked by carlossainzjr, charlesleclerc, daniel3.jpg, lewishamilton, y/n_ig, oscarpiastri and 4,568,897 others

date nights 🥰

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username14 ummmm pause who is this??! 😧

username13 wait this is cuteeee☺️

username15 awwww 💕

username73 lando off the market?!?

username03 noooo it was supposed to be me 🥲

username18 you guys make me sick

↳ username23 @.username18 stay mad

username65 so cuteee 💝

username3 i feel like ik who it is 🤭🤭

↳ username93 @.username3 same girl 🤧

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lando.jpg just posted a new story!

y/n_ig just posted a new story!

y/n_ig

liked by charlesleclerc, sza, lewishamilton, kehlani, f1, landonorris, cardib, oscarpiastri and 4,868,777 others

Brazil!!! You have been so much fun!! 🤧❤️

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username13 it was so fun meeting you!!!

↳ y/n_ig @.username17 same honey!! thank you for the bracelet!! 🥹💕✨

username8 omg?! you were there!! i wish I had seen you 🥲

↳ y/n_ig @.username8 aww I’m sorry baby!! next time 💕

username5 kitten update?!

↳ y/n_ig @username5 soon 💕

username7 ik the fits ateeee

username20 omg?! not the mclaren garage 🤭

username11 we all know who she was there for 🫢🤭

↳ y/n_ig @.username11 yes ma’am the GOAT Sir Lewis Hamilton

↳ username2 @.y/n_ig deaddddd 😭😭

↳ username9 @.y/n_ig opp - 👀

↳ username10 @.y/n_ig LMFAOOO 🤣

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twitter

landonorris just posted a new story!!

y/n_ig

liked by charlesleclerc, sza, lewishamilton, landonorris, disney, arianagrande, oscarpiastri and 4,568,897 others guys there was two of them!!! brother and sisters!! meet Loki and Thor!!! 🥹🥰🤧❤️

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username19 OMG HOW CUTEEE 🥰

username22 THE NAMES AHHHH!! 🤭

username11 OMG KITTENS!!! 🥹

username32 THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM CHOSE YOU TWICEEE 🤩🥰

username24 I WANT ONEE 🤧🤧

landonorris cute ☺️ liked by y/n_ig

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y/n_ig posted a new story!

lando.jpg

liked by y/n_ig, charlesleclerc, gerogerussel, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 2,868,197 others

first time having indian food and mango boba 100/10

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username19 so we just going to ignore the first pic? 🫢

username7 sir who is that?!?! 😮

username1 he’s taken nooo 🥲

username22 ya’ll it’s me in the pic don’t trip 🤪

↳ username11 @.username22 you delulu girl

username61 we know who that is 🤭

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y/n_ig just posted a new story!!!

landonorris just posted a new story!!

y/n_ig

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carnival!!! 🤩

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username33 they are so cute ☺️

username99 lol they aren’t even trying to hide it

username8 i love them 😍

username27 couple goals fr

username20 how did yall know it’s lando?!? What’s if it’s someone else?

↳ username19 @.username20 girl..

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y/n_ig

liked by charlesleclerc, versace, vogue, lewishamilton, landonorris, cardib, oscarpiastri and 4,628,137 others

dress to impress 💋✨ #oscars2024

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username19 she ate the oscar girlies up 🤭

username8 she’s so pretty 🥹✨

username3 im obsessed with her 🤧

sza preety girl 😍 liked by y/n_ig

username7 I can’t wait for the days he wins her oscar!!!

username15 this color on her?!?! yessss!!!✨

landonorris absolutely beautiful 😍🥰 liked by y/n_ig

username4 ^^ they are definitely dating 🤭

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messages

y/n_ig

liked by charlesleclerc, sza, lewishamilton, landonorris, cardib, oscarpiastri and 5,998,897 others

my boy 🥰🤭

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username3 I knewww ittt

↳ y/n_ig @.username3 everyone knew tbh 😭🤭

yourbff congrats baby 🥰

username6 AHHH THEY ARE THEE COUPLEEE

username9 omg the streams are about to be crazyy!!

username5 the funniest couple frfr

username87 the are so cuteee 🤭

livelaughlovey/n hard launchhhh 🤧

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landonorris

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my girl 🤩😘

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username3 AHHH SO CUTEEE

username2 wait these pics are so cuteee

username4 what is with boyfriends and off guard pics 😭

username32 they are so cutee

carlossainzjr 💕

oscarpiastri finally about time congrats buddy 🥰

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superblysubpar · 5 months ago

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<- part eight | epilogue -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: the "enemies” become lovers.

the song: Honey by Kehlani

also for your listening pleasure: I Want You So Bad by Heart , We Belong by Pat Benatar

7,482 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / descriptions of heights-being afraid of them / all favorites listed vaguely except for strawberry ice cream and the princess bride movie / SMUT - slight fingering (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), unprotected piv intercourse with discussions of birth control - creampie | my blog is 18+

Hawkins Middle and High School - the past

The girls giggled in line, whispering and looking over their shoulder and you knew then it was a really, really bad idea to go with them.

The chairs swung in front of you, people yelling and waving to their friends and family down below them and you couldn’t fathom how they could be up so high and have a smile on their face.

Your hands started to sweat as you got closer and closer, till it was your turn next.

But then they didn’t follow you, when the boy running the ride sighed and said, “Only two on.”

The girl named Carol pouted and she looked at you, then the other girl, “I’d go with you, but I have to go with Tina. It’s a tradition.”

“Oh, okay, well, I’ll just…I actually really don’t want-“

“Single rider! We’ve got a single rider! I need a person to accompany this single rider!”

“That’s okay!” You rushed, waving the boy off from yelling again as the girls and everyone in line started to snort and whisper. “Please, I am okay not-“

“I can go with you?”

A boy with an ice cream cone in his hand standing next to the line glared at Tina and Carol who’s mouths parted. He shoved past them and smiled at you, wavy brown hair flopping in the wind as he looked at the attendant, then held up his chocolate cone, “Oh, um, can I bring this on?”

“I so don’t care,” the teen waved you on and to your horror, closed the bar over your laps with no belt.

Your eyes squeezed shut as it lurched forward , fingers slipping on the metal bar as your breath came too quick.

“I’m Steve, by the way, sorry about them. They’re pretty nice when they want to be, I think.”

His words registered, somewhere in your fear, and you managed to spit out your own name.

He repeated your name, he murmured something that sounded like the word ‘pretty’ which had you humming a ‘hmm?’ while your eyelids fluttered open in a grave mistake.

“Oh, uh, I said do you want to share some of my ice cream?” He blinked at you, light brown eyes coming in to focus in front of twinkling lights.

His cheeks turned pink as he mumbled, “That’s weird, isn’t it? I just…hey, you okay?”

His gaze roamed over your face that did not look okay at all.

“I’m…I’m heights aren’t my favorite thing.”

Steve nodded and looked around, breathing out as the ride stopped and kept you dangling in the air. You gripped his forearm without thinking, closing your eyes.

“It’s okay, um…okay, wanna hold my hand until it’s over? I know that doesn’t help that much, but you can feel something that…you know like not the ride reminding you of how high up you are? Shit, I mean, if you keep your eyes closed and hold my hand, it’s like we’re on the ground right?”

“Ri-right?” You hiccupped out through a gulp of air, hand following the yellow sweatshirt sleeve down to bare skin until you could lace your fingers with his.

A breeze blew, the bucket you were in swayed with it and you squeezed harder and Steve cleared his throat, “Woah, you’ve got a grip. You ever thought of baseball for a career?”

You laughed, but started to try to slip out of his hold from embarrassment, but froze when the ride squeaked, so he held it tighter and whispered, “Wow, these swings, that are on the ground, safely attached to the earth, are so fun.”

Your nose wrinkled as you laughed through it and shook your head when the ride started again.

He kept coming up with scenarios for the creaks, and breezes, the swaying, until your hand was loosening in his to a normal and comfortable hold and your eyes were fluttering open again in a genuine laugh.

“Hey, there she is.” He smiled at you. He squeezed your hand, “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The ride came to a halt and Steve kept his hand in yours as you walked off of it.

Hawkins, Indiana - Saturday A.B.

Your fingers roam over your face, your outfit, gaze meeting your own in the mirror as you whisper, “You’re going on a date. Just a normal date.

Nothing crazy about it.” You shrug, nonchalant, “It’s just with Steve Harrington. You’re probably gonna go to a movie and makeout,” the thought has the butterflies flapping in your stomach, but you hold them off, adding with a finger at yourself, “And then it’ll be over, and you’ll go back to how life was before this bet.”

Even as the sentence leaves your mouth, your chest tightens.

Back to life before he kissed you.

Before panic about your safety, before the color red became your favorite too, before you knew what he told Robin.

Before he spoke like that to you in his bedroom.

Before you realized you’ve been in love with him for forever and have just been too scared to get hurt.

Yeah, easy to go back to before all of that. No problem.

A noise outside has you peeking out of your window’s blinds then, and you grab a small bag, and head out your front door.

Steve sits in his driver’s seat, going over his plan with his eyes closed. He blows out his breath, nodding to himself.

“You’re gonna go on this date, and it’s gonna be great, and you are only going to kiss her a little bit at the end of the night, if she wants, and that’s it, Harrington.”

He opens his eyes and panics, seeing you locking your front door. He quickly jumps out of the car and shouts your name.

As you turn, his heart stops beating, he’s sure of it.

Steve stands at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head and carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers and something else. His hair is perfectly messy, cheeks pink as he waves at you to back up, wearing the same color he was when you met him. A yellow tshirt pulls at his shoulders as he climbs the stairs, voice sweet but scolding.

“Go back inside!”

“What?” Word lost around your laughter, hand on the keys still in the door’s lock.

He huffs, pouting his lips around the words, “I’m supposed to knock on your door, and give you these so you can put them in water, and tell you you’re beautiful.”

“Oh,” heat floods your body at the word beautiful, but you make no movement as he climbs the last few steps.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you over gold eyes that sparkle and you let out more of a surprised laugh.

“Wait you seriously want me to go back in?”

“Baby, yes,” he motions for you to spin, “I only get one chance, I gotta do this right.”

“Well excuse me, any other rules I should know about?” You grumble under your breath as your key sticks, you yank but it won’t budge. More laughter leaves through your nose, “My keys are stuck.”

“Okay, okay, go back inside, leave the keys in the door, and I’ll get them when we finish with the flowers,” Steve says from behind your shoulder. The hot breath on your ear makes a shiver travel down your spine and back up.

“But I’m already out here and-“

“Please?” The word is brushed against your ear, gently, sincerely.

“Mhm,” hums out of sealed tight lips so something embarrassing like a moan doesn’t slip out instead as you push your thighs together under your dress.

Entering the apartment, you look at him grinning smugly for getting his way as you close the door and roll your eyes.

A knock taps in a pattern on the door and you sigh around a laugh and call, “Who is it?”

“Kevin Bacon!”

As you whip your door open, ready with a witty reply about cutting loose, you stop. Steve swallows, eyes roaming over your body despite having seen the red sun dress before tonight and only a few seconds earlier. But when they land on your face, they melt into a look you’ve never seen before.

Even though you know he’s going to say it, it feels like air is sucked out of your lungs, deflating you on the spot into a gooey puddle when he clears his throat and keeps eye contact as he murmurs.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you respond, cheeks warm, “The dress is…”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, taking a step forward, “You’re beautiful.”

The puddle you’ve turned into disintegrates into the carpet.

Steve’s cheeks turn deeper pink, almost the same color as your dress as he shakes his head. “Wait, no, I mean the dress is great, you look, it’s great, it’s, red is definitely your color. I mean other colors look good on you too and-“

“Steve,” you interrupt and he closes his mouth and then you grin and point to the bouquet, “Are those for me?”

“Oh, yes!” He extends them to you, your fingers brush as your fingers wrap around the stems. You’re hiding a smile into a sniff of them when a loud click and flash happens.

Steve’s pulling a Polaroid square out of a camera as you blink up at him, “Wh-“

“Rule number one tonight - any time you’re looking too cute, I have to take a picture.” He shrugs, like it’s not the most heart melting, brain fizzing, breath stuttering thing a guy’s ever said or done to you.

“I-“

He lifts the camera again and you grin, swatting at his arm through a laugh, “No, film is expensive you can’t waste it on pictures of me.”

Your fingers wrapped around his forearm feel right, and the bouquet of flowers is squished between your chests as Steve holds the camera out of your reach, words soft against your cheek as he breathes them out.

“How would that be a waste, honey?”

Your heart is so loud in your chest, you wonder if the clear evening forecast was wrong, if a storm actually is coming.

Steve purses his lips in thought and then offers, “An amendment to rule number one - only pictures for the moments we really wanna remember?”

“Big brain word,” you mumble, gaze locked on his lips that twitch in a fight of a smile.

“We have a deal? No protesting, no saying anything about wasting film, you’re gonna get your picture taken and like it, yeah?”

The tap of his finger to the tip of your nose shatters your legs, you’re not sure how you’re standing.

“De-deal,” you clear your throat. With what you think is a smile, your body can’t remember how to do anything but melt anymore, you hold up the flowers. “Well, I guess I should get these in a vase, huh?”

“Good idea.” He smiles.

As you wander to your kitchen on wobbly legs, Steve takes a step inside the apartment fully, looking around with a thoughtful gaze.

As the glass jar fills in shaking hands, you call out, “Hey, wouldn’t rule number one be no help? How’d you know these were my favorite?”

“I didn’t get help. I knew they were your favorite already. From middle school.”

Your fingers turn the tap with a squeak, eyes blinking at the flowers now resting in the jar as you ask, “What?”

As you return to the main room, he stares at you, like he’s waiting for something, but then he finally says, “Those poems, in lit. You had a line about your favorite flower. I assumed they were still your favorite now.”

“Oh.”

Steve and you stand on opposite sides of the room, you holding the jar of flowers and him the Polaroid. The photo is developing slowly, the purples and blues matching the bruise on his temple from Thursday night. The red of your dress matching the small scar on his cheek.

The moment lingers, like the last few storm clouds are hovering, slowly lifting as the skies clear and bring promise of better weather.

He smiles softly and tilts his head towards the door, “Ready? We’ve got a whole itinerary.”

You grab the camera from him and snap the photo, sure he looks confused and dazed in it, but you don’t care.

The photo slowly spits out as you stare at each other, letting the moment you want to remember develop next to his.

He holds out his hand, waiting for you to grab it.

“Anyways, I’m rambling,” you finish, grabbing a water glass and sipping it as Steve’s thumb brushes over your knuckles of the hand he’s holding.

On top of the table.

On the edge of the table.

For everyone to see.

He hasn’t let go of it unless he absolutely needed to while eating, and was quick to grab it again when he got the chance.

His knee knocks against yours under the diner’s table, feet tangled together as he shakes his head.

“No, you’re not, and even if you were, I like listening to you talk.”

It feels like that’s all you’ve been doing since you got to the diner. After Steve took your menu and said that he’d already made arrangements, he’d asked you questions about yourself. Some typical first date favorites that he seemingly already knew, like your favorite food, which was delivered to the table. But most of your conversation went deeper, both of you talking about big dream things like not wanting to work at Family Video forever and what you hoped to do next. How excited he was to live with Robin, and how pissed he was at his parents for moving. Surface level things lead into deeper questions like why a season was your favorite because you spent it at your family’s old cabin and all of the memories wrapped up into it.

“To be honest,” Steve grabs your second hand as it sets the water down, holding both in the middle of the table as he stares at them, “I think I could sit here all night and listen to you talk to me.” He starts to trace your hands with his fingers, watching the pad drag up your index finger and back down. “You used to barely speak to me, and when you did, it’s not like we had a real conversation.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to him.

He lifts a hand and kisses your fingers, “For?”

Your lips purse, eyes squint, ignoring the swooping in your stomach as you ask, “How much time do we have?”

Steve laughs, his fingers slide in and out of yours as he looks at them. “I don’t think you have anything to apologize for, honey.”

“I do,” you say, watching how his fingers glide up and down against yours, wondering if you’ll start a fire right there on the top of the diner table from it. “I never gave you a fair chance. We were just kids and…I’m sorry.”

Steve looks up at you and shakes his head, “I didn’t give you much opportunity to think I deserved a chance. And I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” He looks like a kid who’s been caught stealing a cookie before dinner as he admits, “I used to egg you on, on purpose a lot. Just so you’d yell at me and get that little spot…” he touches your forehead, and the brain behind it turns to a static TV screen.

“Which,” he’s grabbing your hand again, unaware he’s erased all functioning properties from you mind as he continues, “I guess I’m not that sorry for. But, I am sorry for being a jerk in school, and after school, and all the times in between.”

Your head shakes, mouth parting in protest and he leans forward, nose close to yours as he whispers, “How about we’re both sorry, we both think the other doesn’t need to be sorry, and both are true. That just exists, and there’s nothing to argue about, hmm?” His nose taps the tip of yours, brushing up the bridge of it as your eyelashes flutter. “Rule number two?” His breath fans across your lips as he asks, “No more arguing?”

“But, what will we do if we can’t argue the rest of the night?” You murmur, tilting your head so your bottom lip skims his top and makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like a whine slip out from his throat.

His head tilts, and you think he’ll close the small distance between your mouths, but then a flash and pop happens next to your heads and you grin, somehow the photo being taken making the butterflies happier in your stomach than a kiss.

But then he’s mumbling, “I don’t know if I even aimed that right…” nose knocking your cheek as he presses closer across the table digging into his stomach.

“We’ll know what it’s supposed to be of,” words exhaled as you both inhale, tilt, and-

“Room for dessert?” The waitress interrupts with perfect timing.

Steve clears his throat as he leans away from you. He smiles politely at the waitress and says no thanks.

Your hands seem to loosen in his, and he only grabs them tighter.

“Okay, so. There’s much more to this date, but I wanted to check in, make sure you’re still okay with this?”

Thumbs rub circles over the back of your hands in a dizzying, electric way.

And that’s before he lifts one hand and kisses your palm while maintaining eye contact.

Your thighs adjust on the diner seat as you nod and murmur, “I’m having a great time.”

He smiles wider, squeezes your fingers. “Great, next stop - dessert.”

Steve’s fingers tug on yours, pulling you through the crowd as you laugh around a lick of your ice cream.

He’d pulled the maroon car into the grassy field ten minutes ago and you’d turned to face him as he put the car in park.

He smiled at you, fingers fiddling with his keys and shoulders tight as he asked, “This okay?”

The Hawkins 4th of July carnival sat before you, twinkling lights, rides, games, and most of the town wandering around it all.

You’d nodded and Steve slipped out of the door and pointed at you to stop just like he’d done at the diner. He opened your door and held his hand to help you out, never letting go until he had to pay for your ice cream.

As he’d grabbed his cone, he’d glanced at his watch and swore, grabbed your hand again and started pulling.

You couldn’t help but notice every girl staring as he tugs you through people saying excuse me, couldn’t help but feel that spark of pride in your chest when whenever your grip loosened around people, his only held on tighter.

“What is the rush!” You laugh, catching melting strawberry ice cream with your lips as he darts to the left.

“We’re late! I didn’t realize how long we talked at the diner, we’re missing it!”

“Missing what…”

Your voice trails off as you approach the big grassy hill packed with people on blankets in front of a large, handmade screen.

Showing The Princess Bride.

Robin sits in a booth, chin in her hand, bored, until she sees you two and grins, waving from her station.

“Wh-what’s going on?” You ask, looking at the screen, then him.

Steve frowns, groaning, “It’s like half over. Shit, I’m sorry. I had it all planned.”

He looks at you and all you can see is the chocolate ice cream on his bottom lip as he keeps talking.

“Family Video was asked to do a movie in the park, and I asked Keith if I could do it, and I picked The Princess Bride, for you, so we could watch it together, here-“

Your fingers catch his chin and he can’t breathe as your thumb swipes over his bottom lip. It slips in between your lips, tongue licking the chocolate from it as he breathes heavily.

His hands lift the camera just as yours go to grab for it and you make eye contact then look at Robin and grin.

She snaps a photo of you both when you ask, and you’re fairly certain Steve’s eyes are closed and your mouth is open in a question and it may end up being your favorite one, regardless.

You look at Steve and nod towards the hill.

This time, you hold out your hand and wait for him to grab it.

The movie is full of moments.

One of him asking for a taste of your ice cream and scoffing when you whisper a no, only to grab your wrist and pull it to his mouth and bite it, which you tell him he’s a serial killer for.

Once your ice cream is finished, there’s several, where you keep catching him watching your profile when you laugh at the same parts you always do, only for him to turn quickly back to the screen and ignore you when you try to ask him what he’s staring at. Which he says he doesn’t know what you’re talking about to, so then you get loud about it and then his palm covers your mouth as he whispers that you’re talking during the movie and it’s rude, baby, some people haven’t seen this a bazillion times.

So many with hands resting next to each other’s, fingers playing with yours, swirling over the skin of your arm up and down and tickling and soothing at the same time, making the butterflies in your stomach bang on the walls and scream about letting them out.

Another, where, when he kisses your bare shoulder and pulls your fallen dress strap up, you wonder if butterflies can scream and if Steve can hear them.

Then, when the movie’s almost over, Steve tugs on your hand and whispers against your ear (because you were scolded by Robin for talking too loud earlier), that he knows it’s not over, but you have somewhere to be.

The pair of you duck as you run past people down the hill, trying not to stumble and fall or laugh or block their view and being unsuccessful in almost all of it.

He helps you not fall, hands on your waist and he keeps them there as you turn, breathless, hands against his chest where you can feel his heart beating as hard as yours.

It feels a lot like you’re facing a fear, about to do or say something you might regret, but you know you never truly will, because at least you said it.

At least you gave the what if a chance to prove you wrong.

“Hey,” you whisper, “In case I forget to say it, this date has been pretty perfect.”

“Yeah?” He swallows, gaze falling to your lips then back up. “Even with the moratorium on arguing?”

“Did you just say moratorium?” You grin, while your palms climb higher on his chest and around his neck.

He nods, nose knocking yours, “Mhm, and for my big brain word, I have a request.”

“Name your price, Harrington.”

Steve takes a step back and pulls your hands deeper into the fair, until you’re in front of the ferris wheel.

Your feet scuff on the gravel as he tries to keep pulling you into the line and you shake your head.

“Please?” He looks nervous, looking at the sky and line and then back at you, “I promise it won’t be bad. Just like the first time, I’ll distract you and I’ll hold your hand until it’s over-“

“No,” your hand does slip out of his this time, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

You gesture to the giant ride in front of you, “This is like ten times bigger than that one a school. And I’m bigger! So that’s saying something if it still looks so big!”

Each of your volume increases, hands gesturing and drawing a crowd as you interrupt each other, rule number two completely broken.

“Please, just get in line? It’ll be worth it, and-“

“I’m not going, no way-“

“Stop being so stubborn, for once in your life and just-“

“I’m not being stubborn, you’re being stubborn and I don’t know why it’s such a big deal anyways-“

“Would you just hold my hand on the damn ferris wheel so I can tell you that I love you!?”

It feels like every single person at that fair stops talking right then. His words hang in the air, dings and chimes from rides and games get louder as he blinks at you, mouth parting and closing as nothing more comes out.

Your chest heaves as you gasp, “Wh-what?”

Steve swallows and takes a step closer to you, then another, until his hand is cupping your jaw and he’s shaking his head, like he doesn’t want to say the words but he can’t help it anymore.

“I love you so much. And maybe that’s a crazy thing to say, when this is technically our first date, but…but I do. I love when you snatch red vines out of my fingers and you get that wrinkle between your brows when you think I’m acting like an idiot.”

Your shaking hand grabs his on your cheek, vision turning blurry as he keeps going, voice cracking as he does, “I love the color of your eyes. I love how you can joke and not take things so seriously until it’s something that really matters. I love your work ethic and your heart and…and I think I’ve loved you since we were twelve and I heard your laugh for the first time while you broke my hand. I love you.”

It doesn’t feel real, the words coming out of him, the way your chest cracks open and releases the butterflies. All of your fears of not being enough, of only being a game, vanish with three little words said by Steve. The way he says I love you while he looks at you like that.

Like he means it.

Like you’re his.

His thumb catches tears on your cheeks while you sniffle as you somehow joke, “Acting like an idiot?”

Steve laughs, a rumble in his chest as his forehead knocks against yours, waiting, until you take the air out of him and put it back with five words.

“I love you too, Steve.”

This kiss, is like the moment the storm is over. When rain drips from the leaves softly and the earth smells fresh - like it’s been given a clean slate. When birds start chirping again and the breeze returns instead of the wind. Like sun peaking out of clouds and gray sky turning to blue.

His lips mold around yours, like they’re meant to, like he’s not ever letting them go. Your body heats, like he’s transferring all of his warmth into you from just his lips. Catching yours softly as they part, as they beg for more. He does let them go, only when there’s whoops and whistles around you and a booming crack and spark above you both.

Red and blue paint his features tilted up towards the sky, the fireworks in your stomach reflected in his eyes when they look back at you.

He kisses you again, in front of everyone, holding your waist and pulling you tightly against him, Polaroid sandwiched between you. Steve keeps kissing you until you’re both panting into each other’s lips, unable to part fully, but desperately needing air.

Your bottom lip catches his top one again in an over too quick peck as you smile and grab both of his hands, and tug him towards the parking lot.

He had to pull over fifteen minutes ago.

You’d kissed him dizzy in the grassy field, letting him press your body up against the door he was planning to open for you.

Mouth that had always been so mean to him making up for so much lost time. Lips that parted under his and followed his lead, that sucked and bruised right back, always matching his shift, countering back, challenging him and making something inside of his chest feel like it was prying open to get into yours.

The feeling was addicting.

He remembers his hands on your hips, pressing you into the car with his body, your name barely escaping between tongue and lips that just wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop.

You’d hummed, while fingers squeezed the back of his neck and then scratched along the back of his head, grinning around his mouth that parted in a gasp when you did.

“We,” he’d swallowed as your mouth slipped along his jaw, his head tilting back so you could kiss his throat, “We should…jesus christ.”

Your teeth scraped the side of his neck and his hands pressed to the hood of the car, thigh nudging between your legs and only stopping when you moaned against his ear.

You’d rolled your hips experimentally, mouth moving lower again so it could get a proper kiss once more, now that you’d gotten a chance for deeper breaths.

Steve’s hands had gone back to your waist and squeezed, his mouth evaded yours and pressed to your ear.

“You really are trouble, you know that?”

It just made you wonder what else it would take for him to call you that again.

But then it started to rain.

Everyone started running into the field, shrieking and laughing as rain thrummed and pinged on metal rides and wood booths.

He quickly opened your door, shoving the camera and Polaroids at you and ran around his hood.

Both of you swiped at your eyes, shivering from the cold rain that only turned down some of the heat between you. He’d swallowed as he looked at you, licked his bottom lip and asked if he could drive you home.

You’d nodded, and after he’d pulled onto the road, your hands met in the middle of the console.

But then you’d laid his hand on your thigh, pressing yours on top of it. You’d fiddled with his fingers, humming along to the radio and pretending like you weren’t up to no good.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, every doubt washed away from the rain when Steve looked over at you with pouted, kiss-bitten lips, voice scratchy as he warned, “Honey…”

Which was his own fault. He shouldn’t have said it like that, shouldn’t have looked at you like that when he did. Cause it only made you lace your fingers with his from above. Made you move your hand and his to the hem of your dress where his fingers twitched when they hit bare skin.

“You-“

He stopped, biting his lip when you pulled at the hem, lifting it higher and letting the pads of his fingers drag along the inside of your thigh till he hit wet lace and cotton.

“Please?”

Which was your own fault. You shouldn’t have said it like that. Shouldn’t have looked at him like that when you did. Cause it only made it easier for you to guide his fingers to push under the black fabric. Made it too easy for the pads of two fingers to brush through your slick far too slow and tease at your clit before doing it again, and again, and-

He pulled his hand away when you gasped as the car swayed on the wet pavement and he shook his head, hands back to ten and two, mumbling the word trouble again.

But then he was pulling over, lights cutting the slant of rain on the deserted gravel road as he looked over at you with pink cheeks and wild, wet hair and nodded his head to his side of the car.

“Get over here, now.”

You’d grinned and said:

“Ask me nicely, Steve.”

And now your thighs were parted over his, the skirt of your evil dress fanned out all pretty and covering up how indecent you were underneath.

His hands held your waist as your hips rolled, the mess of black fabric underneath hitting against his Levi’s that were far too tight just right.

Heart’s song mixing with his own, thudding in his chest as you whisper his name against his lips like a prayer. He wonders if he can get you to come like this, just riding him fully clothed in his car, with just his mouth on yours, but that’s not what he wants. Not right now, not tonight.

“Baby,” he sighs, “We gotta slow down. You’re killing me here.”

It only makes your hips roll with a little more pressure, a laugh bubbling out of you as his eyelids flutter and the back of his head hits the seat rest with a groan.

He squeezes at your waist and holds you still, mouth catching yours when you whine.

It’s a much softer, shorter kiss than you’ve had all night, but not as sweet as what he says after.

“I wanna take my time with you.”

He stares at you, and your hand leaves his shoulder, pad of your finger tracing over freckles on his cheek, his cupid’s bow, up the bridge of his nose. It’s tender on his eyebrow, careful to avoid the bruise, until it’s gently brushing the three freckles next to his eye.

“Did you know you have a little bit of green in your eyes?” The murmured words take his heart and squeeze, make it harder to swallow as your nose nuzzles into his and you add, “I don’t want to miss anything else, Steve. Don’t wanna waste time we can’t get back.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, your jaw. He presses soft and silky lips to just below your ear, lower, lingering on your racing pulse point before he’s back to staring at you.

“I’ve waited over ten years for this, I’m not doing it in my car. It needs to be…I wanna remember this.”

A smile lifts your cheeks, and you reach for something, then whisper into his lips:

“So let’s remember it.”

A flash, a click, and a whir, before several moments lead up to a big one.

One’s where you climb off his lap regretfully, and he drives towards your apartment.

Several of climbing stairs and nervous fingers fumbling with keys and light switches. A radio plays Pat Benatar, music swelling around you both as you start kissing against your door.

Too many to count of kisses stolen between all of the other moments, till you’re in your bedroom with Steve Harrington and you’re pulling at his shirt that sticks to his skin. Bare arms quick to wrap back around you once it’s over his hair.

Your fingers scrape down his chest, over his stomach and shake while they work at metal and leather until he’s helping. Till he’s standing in front of you in just black boxers and swallowing as you look at him.

He steps forward, breath shaky as he asks, “Can I?”

Once your head nods and you say please, his fingers drag red fabric higher and higher, gently pulling it over your head until you’re standing in front of him in just black lace which is so much harder to concentrate around than red.

Steve kisses you again, softer and sweeter. Slowly dragging your mouth open with his as his hand cups your jaw. Your hands roam from his chest to hips, pulling him towards you and both to the bed.

He climbs over you as your head meets the mattress. He breaks away from your mouth with panted breaths, kissing down your throat, over collar bones and your chest as you blink at your ceiling and try to remember how normal breathing works. His hands caress down your side and back up, fingers playing with the band of black on your back until you’re nodding, asking him to take it off.

Steve swallows at the sight of pebbling nipples underneath him, gasps a breath against the curve of your chest when his fingers brush one and you jolt and make a noise he hasn’t heard yet. He needs to hear it again, and let’s his tongue glide out to wet the same spot before brushing it again.

It’s even better the second time.

He moves lower still, when you say his name and your hips adjust beneath his. Not sure if he’s dreaming when his fingers hook into lace and drag the underwear over your hips, past your thighs and off of your ankles. He’s pretty sure his heart is bruising the inside of his chest after he watches how it clung to you, space between your thighs already sticky and dripping for him.

You don’t have time to wonder what he’s thinking or worry about being anxious or doubt anything because he’s kissing your ankle, the inside of your knee, mouthing at all of the bare skin as he climbs higher again.

“This is…” he swallows, breath fanning over your clit as he looks up your body and asks, “You’re okay? You want to keep going?”

His eyes shine in the low lamplight of your room, hair drying and messier than ever from all your fingers have done to it tonight. His lips pout as he waits with held breath for your answer when you look down at him.

“Yes,” you nod, frantic about it and hand meeting his on your hip and holding tightly, “Please, I-Steve.”

He moans into your folds at the sound of his name, at the taste of you finally on his tongue. It licks over you in flat, broad stripes. He traces each lip, nose leading the path up to your clit each time. Which throbs when the tip presses into it just right as his tongue pushes at your entrance.

Your fingers squeeze his as your back arches and the other grips your bedding. Chest heaving from the feeling of his tongue flicking faster. The stubble on his cheeks scratch at your thighs that squeeze around him tighter, which only makes him double down on the movement, lapping at you like he’ll never get to do it again and needs to make sure he doesn’t miss anything you give him.

His name leaves you louder, like you’ve never said it before.

Like it’s yours.

He’s seeing red, when you clench around him tighter as his free hand presses circles into your clit until you’re shaking around him, fingers limp in his.

Your eyes are closed as your chest rises and falls quickly when he removes himself and looks at you from where he kneels between your legs. His hands gently roam up and back down your thighs, lips smiling when you sigh at the feeling, content.

He doesn’t want to break it, whatever’s happening inside your head, but his fingers swirl circles higher, just below your ribs, voice scratchy when he asks, “Was that…”

“If you’re about ask if that was okay…” you smile, eyes finally fluttering open.

Somehow, despite having the best orgasm just moments ago, you ache for more at the sight of him.

He kneels between your legs, his own chest panting a little too fast. Pride shoots through yours from how glossy his lips are, how pink his cheeks turn, how much his pupils take over normally golden iris’.

You’re a little crazed about it, pulling at his wrists so he falls on top of you, pushing at his boxers that he’s eager to help rid himself of too. Steve stands, pulling them off and your mouth goes dry, and he has the nerve to have some clarity, to look smug and ask, “See something you like, honey?”

A laugh bubbles out past your lips as you shake your head, hands covering your eyes as you try to get your breathing under control.

The bed dips and his fingers skate over your skin, up higher until his palms are pressed into the pillow and your hands fall at the feeling of all of him on top of you, pushed up against you.

Your hips roll, making him bite his lip above you when his length slips between your folds. Both of you breathe harshly into each other’s mouths, sliding together, teasing your kisses and the thing you’ve both been waiting for.

Until your hand pulls at his hair and you beg, “Need you, right now.”

Steve grips at your hip, dizzy from how you coat him and he’s not even inside of you yet. He gasps, “Ask,” he nips at your bottom lip, “Nicely.”

Your head shakes no, so your lips brush against his and then he’s swearing, closing his eyes and mumbling, “Oh my god, I’m an idiot.”

“What?” You blink at him.

Steve moans, lips pressed to your jaw, nose into your cheek as he admits, “I don’t have a condom. I…I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

The thought makes you grin, makes your eyelashes flutter because he twitches next to your entrance when you say, “Big brain word.”

He laughs, breath hot along your jaw and gasping as you roll your hips and offer, “Want your prize?”

“Honey,” it sounds pained, like he’s one roll of your hips away from coming.

“I-I’m on birth control. And I love you. I wanna do this,” your hands rub at his shoulder blades, down his biceps and back up. “Wanna feel all of you, Steve. Please?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his throat bobbing in front of you as he forces out a rushed, “You can’t just say stuff like that baby, don’t be mean.”

Your hand reaches between you, fingers wrap around him and you’re addicted to the way his eyelashes flutter, the way he says your name when you tug once, lining him up with your entrance.

His eyes open in a daze, gaze bouncing between your eyes as he asks, “You’re sure?”

You’re nodding and then suddenly, wonderfully, beautifully, you’re kissing Steve Harrington as he pushes inside of you.

He stops when you gasp around his lips, eyes frantically searching over your face but only finding a blissed out expression with each inch he slips in more. He wishes the camera wasn’t down in the car.

Next time.

You envelope him completely, legs rising on either side of his hips and arms around his neck, lips against his as you nod and encourage him to keep going. Each ridge and curve of each other fitting together and nothing between either of you anymore, holding you back.

Steve’s hand curls against your waist, forehead pressed to yours when he rolls his hips experimentally and you moan into his mouth again, his name sounding desperate this time. Your hands claw at his back when he starts thrusting and all he can think about is asking you to do it harder and then taking you to the pool tomorrow. Show off how you marked him up while he holds your hand and people stare.

His eyes flutter open to find you already staring at him. Your lips mold together in a long kiss, parting in the same breath. Eyes open again as your mouths brush and beg each other’s names, hands caress and memorize over each other’s bodies while they glide together. Steve grabs your hand that tangles the sheets, lacing his fingers with yours and holding on until it’s over, and even when it will be, he has no plans to let go.

Your heartbeats thud against chests pressed together, no longer separate rhythms, and each push into you and slow drag out brings you higher and higher and you’re suddenly not so scared of how far the fall is anymore, not with Steve Harrington holding your hand.

He presses it tightly into the pillow, breath coming sharp and hating that this is over so quickly. But then you’re looking at him like that, like he’s yours. And he’s looking at you like that. Like you’re his. A scrunched forehead knocks yours and he’s spilling inside of you, warmth flooding over you both as his lips capture yours in another kiss.

This kiss, is different. This kiss is like when a storm is over, and not everyone notices, but there’s always a rainbow, somewhere, if you’re patient enough to find it, to search for it.

Your hand softens in his hair, the other a comfortable grip in his. His chest sighs against yours, breath fanned across lips that savor and treasure your kiss.

Steve lifts up, only slightly, so he can look at you when he says.

“I love you.”

Mouths find each other again, swallowing unspoken promises of this only being the beginning.

Until you’re speaking into the kiss, needing to get the last word.

“I love you, more.”

Steve pulls away, looking at your eyes. He shakes his head.

“Quit lying, honey.”

Honey.

Thank you SO much for reading this story. I wasn't going to come back and finish it, and I'm so glad I did. And then only reason I was able to was because of sweet comments and reblogs left and those of you who came and sent dms and asks. I hope the wait was worth it and I appreciate you so much! There is a small epilogue, but please read the warnings on it, may not be your thing ✌🏻💛

BICFTF TAGLIST:

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf @khena @ytgus @starryeyedpoet17

@halfburntout @belle101200

#superbly subpar's writing #BICFTF #steve harrington #steve harringon x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic

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caashmoneynae · 5 months ago

Text

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more!

❦

GREATDAYNDAMORNIN'. (GxG)

KEHLANI x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which what Kehlani wants for breakfast isn’t on the menu… ✨

❦

𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 walked downstairs in an oversized t-shirt and white bunny slippers on her melanated feet as she walked to the kitchen, yawning softly while she rested her hand on her bun made of brown locs. opening the fridge, Tianna took out a bottle of water and closed the fridge behind her as she twisted the lid off her water and took a sip of it, her ears pricking up at the sound of Kehlani's footsteps on the staircase before feeling an arm wrap loosely around her waist.

"good mornin', sexy." Kehlani smirked a bit, her voice raspy and low, as she rested her head in the crook of Tianna's neck and Tianna swallowed the water in her mouth before chuckling softly, twisting the lid back onto the water bottle while she leaned up against the kitchen counter.

"good mornin', Baelani," Tianna chuckled softly as Kehlani rested her hands on Tianna's waist and caressed her hips while she pushed her pelvis up against her ass, "what you want for breakfast, baby?"

"you." Kehlani lusted, that same subtle smirk on her face, as Tianna chuckled and looked back at her over her shoulder, causing their eyes to lock while Kehlani lightly tilted her head at her.

"'Lani, i'm serious, tell me what you want." Tianna chuckled as Kehlani grabbed the girl by her arm and leaned her up before turning her around by her waist, making them be face-to-face while Kehlani hoisted her up onto the counter.

"who said i wasn't being serious?"

—

Tianna let out a loud whimper and ran her fingers through Kehlani's wavy, black hair before tugging at it gently, earning a moan from the woman below while she continued to eat her like she was her last meal. Tianna's hips slightly jolted at feeling Kehlani swirl her tongue on her clitoris and she leaned back onto one of her palms as she threw her head back, her jaw hanging open and her eyes rolling back while her back slightly arched.

"oh, fuck," Tianna moaned, her eyebrows furrowing, as Kehlani pushed her legs open further and firmly kept them wide open by her grip on her inner thighs, her eyes closing and her brows slightly furrowing in concentration while she focused on making her girlfriend climax, "th-that mouth gon' be the death of me, 'Lani."

"mhm?" Kehlani cooed between her legs, sending shivers down the girl's spine, as she took a hand off one of her legs and slipped her middle finger into Tianna's wet sex, making her moan loudly while she tugged at Kehlani's hair for a second time, "you like how my mouth feels on that pretty pussy, mama?"

"yes!" Tianna cried, feeling her finger curve at her g-spot, as Kehlani smirked widely and added another finger, thrusting them at a steady pace and curving them occasionally while she began sucking on her clit, "oh, my God, don't stop, i'm 'bout to cum!"

"wet my face up, baby girl," Kehlani mumbled against her throbbing bundle of nerves, her eyes flickering up to her girlfriend to watch her love faces, "cum all over me, pretty, lemme' taste my breakfast."

Tianna's body seized in place and her legs trembled against Kehlani's face as her eyes squeezed shut and a prolonged, high-pitched moan left her lips before she climaxed, her body shuddering while Kehlani continued to eat and finger her through her orgasm. her chest heaved up and down irregularly and heavy pants left her parted lips as Kehlani left a sweet kiss on her clit before standing up from her knees, wrapping her unoccupied hand around her neck while she licked her lips.

locking eyes with her girlfriend, Kehlani continued to finger her and slid them deeper inside her slick walls as she pulled her in for a loving kiss to taste herself, a small lazy smile slowly crossing Tianna's face and a soft chuckle coming from Kehlani's moist lips before she parted them to speak.

"So, since I already ate, what'chu want for breakfast, mama?"

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lordprettyflackotara · 8 months ago

Text

Harry Potter Masterlist:

remember, all of my work is smut 18+

Mattheo Riddle:

snakelike

—> the one where Mattheo cheats in a quidditch game, costing you the quidditch cup. once you find out he’s throwing a celebration party, you’re determined to get him back

i miss the misery || blurb

—> the one where you can’t get enough of your toxic ex

kehlani

—> the one where you’re a mystery and mattheo loves nothing more than playing detective

Theodore Nott:

loading…

Draco Malfoy:

cardigan

—> the one where after the war draco is bullied at hogwarts university and you save his ass time and time again

comfortable || blurb

—> the one where draco reminds harry who you really belong to

Weasley Twins:

sandman | fw

—> the one where you can’t sleep, and Fred has the perfect remedy to help you finally get some rest

party monster || part two || fw

—> the one where fred tries cocaine, but you give him the best high of all

fill the void || fw

—> the one where you choose fred to fill the void that comes with being a slytherin

weasley whore

—> the one where the weasley twins are your fuck buddies and love nothing more then to help you relieve stress

Bonus Features:

double fantasy || fw & dm

—> the one where you’re an uncontrolled brat only draco and fred can tame

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 month ago

Text

❝ You’re the one who brought the dawn to my eternal nights. ❞

Ω!reader x α!jeong-hyun | omegaverse AU, fluff, NSFW | sub. bttm. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 4k

warnings: graphic description of violence, mentions/descriptions of CA (physical, mental, emotional), mentions of dog attacks, guns, power imbalance, yandere tendencies, mentions of drugs, stalking, mentions of torture

masterlist: how you met (mob yanderes) : pt. 1 (K.JH)

authors note: @xuxitheii come get your meal "...(Y/N) could be a performer/singer at a gentleman's club..." *song on repeat: Gangsta by Kehlani (spec. the flashback version)

* YN is described as wearing more fem. clothing as he performs

He doesn't understand why he is the way he is. If Jeong-Hyun could voice his thoughts in a more concise manner, he would tell others that though the life he leads, with death awaiting at every corner, was perfect for him — he wishes he could do anything else other than this.

That, although, he is a violent man he only ever uses it as a necessity; a reaction, a defense.

A dog does not bite for no reason.

But he is not a dog.

He is a man.

Seo-Yun tells him this with such a kind smile, his heart hammers out of his chest each time she does. Jeong-Hyun doesn't understand why it does that.

When he was a child, he'd been thrown into the dog fighting rings as the opener. The new top dog would snarl at him, foam at the mouth as it barked while he cowered into a corner that did not exist. The men and women who cheered from above him, around him, disorientating as his pumping veins all but thundered with each beat of his heart.

The lights, the announcer yelling into the microphone, the beer cans thrown into the ring to push him out into the centre — and if that didn't work, the electric cow prods they'd jab at him from every side until he leapt into the rabid dogs maw.

That would get his heart racing the same way.

That visceral fear. It was a familiar emotion for Jeong-Hyun. Fear was a friend, a constant, the tremors in his hands, the clenching of his jaws, the scars on the insides of his cheeks.

Seo-Yun's kindness brings him fear and he does not understand but he cannot say this out loud.

Why? He doesn't know.

But when fear is not a constant, other emotions tentatively make way to the top. These, comes with wants rather than needs. Jeong-Hyun finds himself wanting things outside of needing to survive a fight, or of stomaching down the gruel he was given once a week.

Now that he can breathe, he can want and Jeong-Hyun is floored by this.

Seo-Yun provides whatever he wishes. A landed house with an open concept interior, soft clothes for when he is home, things he'd need for the pack of strays he adopted. When he is hurt, she hires the best doctors who stick needles into his inner elbows and with each lazy drop of the thick liquid it makes Jeong-Hyun’s nerves cool into beautiful numbness.

The money he gets doesn’t exactly hinder his wanting either. He can simply flash some of the notes and suddenly everyone bends over backwards.

Everything seems more feasible and within his grasp. His dream of simply surviving now a mishappen...blob.

A blob that has no shape. No colour. No ideals. No goals. He simply fulfils his sister's wishes because he loves her and can clearly see her dream in its vivid colours.

Then, as if the world had finally listened to his incomprehensible thoughts, you came into his life.

It was night time — most of Jeong-Hyun's activities is when the sky is dark — and he'd been accompanying his sister in her discussions with some drug lord.

Swaying favours, swapping fielty, trading a few secrets and cash for more access.

The usual business.

Jeong-Hyun hated the entrance of it. The narrow pathway between two buildings, climbing down the stairs into an even tighter foyer, before being let in. Even then, the tightness does not dissipate.

This gentleman's club — with it's heavy red drapery along the walls that reek of cigar and artificial fruit flavoured smoke — and the yellow and dim lighting that was meant to be moody...

He saw it as nothing more than headache inducing nuisances.

Secrecy was a must considering what goes on beyond these doors.

Gambling, prostitution, drugs, money laundering — the whole nine yards.

But fuck, couldn't they afford a bigger spot?

Seo-Yun glanced his way, then to his curled fingers and white knuckles. They meet their gazes. He offers a grimace, his left eye twitching just slightly, and shakes his head. Being uncomfortable was the norm for him before Seo-Yun. He can perserver. There was nothing here that he wasn’t used to.

The girls here knew better than to lay hands on him.

Or perhaps they were too frightened with how intimidating he was. With his broad shoulders and imposing height, his good eye shining in the low light; he wasn’t shy about flooding his space with his scent either.

Jeong-Hyun didn’t give a shit if it was unseemly or ungentlemanly. If it got the message across that he wasn’t someone you shoved around — he didn’t care if it made noses curl or cheeks turn red.

The girls, however, crowded his sister.

Her scent was more muted despite the core of it being alpha-like. A musk that all alpha’s equally shared as a base note. She grinned, using her tall frame to make them coo as they hung onto her arms.

She’d always been so nice to the whores. Jeong-Hyun rolled his eyes, air escaping through his nose as Seo-Yun tucked some hair behind one of their ears, purposefully ghosting her wrist along their jaw. Their brain basically exploded, pupils growing so wide it made Jeong-Hyun think of a rat’s shimmering eyeballs.

Seo-Yun gives them a lipless, yet coy, curl of her lips. No teeth in sight, demure in their presence. It helps that they're familiar with her cues. Afterall, this was not their first time visiting this establishment.

But tonight was different. Because, once again, this was the night everything changed for him.

They were seated in the VIP area, tucked in a cove to ensure privacy whilst still having a clear unblocked view of the stage. The curtains lifted just as they sat down, Jeong-Hyun spreading his legs as a clear sign of impoliteness. His gun holster peeks from his leather jacket.

There’s the strum of a bass guitar. The echoing twang making him unclench his jaw as he turns his head to face the stage.

You were a sight he’d never seen, and he’d seen plenty.

Gaping bullet holes. Guts spilling with billowing steam as insides meet the outside. Ears and fingers torn apart. Heads splattered open on the concrete. Brain matter swirling down the concrete of a butcher shop.

All that horror dissipates into smoke.

You were dressed like an angel. An angel for gangsters like himself, anyways. No snowy white wings and cherub rosy-dusted cheeks and tight blonde curls.

Instead, you had elbow-high gloves that were beaded with pearls around the seam. The flesh of your thigh has a tantalizing shimmery hue of your skin tone, twinkling faintly as you swayed your hips and shimmied your fur-covered shoulders.

Did you know you pout every time you sing into the microphone? Nothing majorly obvious, but he was enchanted by the colour of your gloss and how soft your lips looked.

He noticed.

He remembers hearing your voice lift every time you smile as you sing. How adorable the crease between your eyebrows was as you crooned to the audience.

When you started to walk off the stage, he had to stop himself from snarling as the alphas in the crowd began cheering and whooping. Seo-Yun’s hand on his nape makes him damn near short circuit.

She’s staring at him with her brows furrowed. It’s his scent. That sharp, spicy, scent of a displeased alpha — he’d been seething so much the girls were cowering next to his sister.

Jeong-Hyun was an uncaring asshole but not a heartless one. He offers a grimace as an apology, uncurling his fists and turning his head around again only to be met with the sight of your gloved hand.

You’re singing. He can lip-read you from how close you are, and he can feel how warm you actually are — from the stage lights most likely. But most importantly, Jeong-Hyun can smell you.

That haunting smell of rare flowers blooming under the moonlight, hidden in their own utopia away from mankind. You smile at him, sweet and coy and insincere. This was just a transaction to you after all.

He brings his knees closer together, the bump of his throat bobs. You rest your hand on the collar of his jacket, leaning down and whispering the lyrics the song into his ear/microphone.

You're new to this place.

None of the other 'entertainers' dared to place hands on Jeong-Hyun. He wasn't fond of strangers invading his space, despised it really, and he had no problems letting it show. Yet, as though under a spell, he does nothing as you brush a hand to his chest.

Your voice echoing sin, your breath causing his mishappen ear to redden as his sullen skin flushes. When you pull back, he expects to see at least a smidge of disgust.

He wouldn't fault you for it. His years growing up inside of a dog fighting ring had not left him looking pretty — his teeth were exposed on the left side of his face. Skin ripped off after a particularly rough day with an adrenaline-pumped mutt. His left eye was milky, perpetually tugged back from the scarring, there'd also been the pinkish scar across his neck. That'd been man-made, and you had probably felt the way it dipped and caved like a canyon across his skin.

The reason he wears gloves was because of the other scars too. Chunks of flesh missing, divots, messily stapled fingers.

Jeong-Hyun was a beast. He expects to be treated like one.

You smile at him. Lips parting to show just a sly of teeth, curled lashes making the stars in your eyes shine brighter as you peer down at him. There's just the slightest wisps of steam coming off your skin from the stage light behind you, but you seem completely unbothered by this.

His pupil constrict into slits when he feels your gloved hand trace upwards, grasping onto your wrist so harshly he sees your brows twinge in pain. Yet, you continue to sing. His grip doesn't loosen, keeping you awkwardly in place.

The show must go on.

He's held your wrist away from his neck, but your fingers stretch and his shock is written across his grotesque face. They stroke faintly on the underside of his chin — a brush, a featherlight touch.

You use his shock to your advantage. As his grip falters, you swiftly slip your hand away and turn your back to him.

"Are you alright?" Seo-Yun speaks from his side. Watching him as he stares at you climbing back on stage, the left side of his face was harder to read. But she can tell he's clenching his jaw, nostrils flaring.

But he wasn't angry. Not the slightest bit.

It was no surprise Jeong-Hyun missed a few important milestones due to his childhood. Of course, Seo-Yun had hired the best doctors to rectify that and for the most part, he's been acclimating just nicely. But complicated emotions always escapes him. Instincts often wins over for Jeong-Hyun.

You were the first person in his life that had made him feel no fear — you made him feel unabashed desire.

Ideally, you'd prefer to perform in a proper bar. One with less shady figures. Where the men with tattoos aren't so shameless in showing off the knife sheaths near their waist. But it's tough to be a singer in this day and age. Bills, bills and more bills.

Not to mention loan sharks.

You don't understand why fate had decided to put you through these battles — to make your father pass and graciously leaving you with nothing but his debts. It royally pissed you off. People tell you to not speak ill of the dead, but fuck him.

You hadn't been rolling in dough before he decided to drop dead but you'd been fine. Living in a small, closet-like, apartment near your college; working part-time here and there and then busking at night. Life hadn't been easy but it'd been simple.

Now? You were here in a room full of the scum of the Earth. You didn't even want to imagine what they do for a living. You were just grateful that you'd been hired here — the pay was enough to keep the loan sharks from banging onto your poor door and splashing red paint all over your entrance. You had to drop out but you can always continue once you survive this.

Because that's all that matters now. Surviving.

So even if you're pulled into the lap of some gangsters lap or have your nape be grabbed at as you sing and twirl around the room in a true Jessica Rabbit-esque fashion, you endure.

Because you'd rather be groped than be dead.

You deserved to be alive, goddammit.

At least you weren't like the other omegas 'entertainers' in the room. You didn't think yourself as above them, not at all, but you were grateful your shady contract didn't mention any backroom work.

Tonight, like most nights, began with the curtains raising to reveal you. The — in all the ways that count — untouchable omega in his sparkling outfit of feathers and velvet. You sing and dance, walk down the stage to the wolf-whistles of many, and make your way through the room.

A few familiar faces stick out. The man with the lip scar grips your waist as you walk past and you look at him from over your shoulder, pretending to be delighted at the sight of him uncrossing his legs to show the tent in his pants.

Pig.

Then, there, at the more VIP tables. A woman in a red dress, surrounded by other omegas all fawning over her. Next to her, an imposing figure.

His profile was so beautiful. His nose had a subtle curve, the tip more round than sharp, and his strong brows complimenting the deep-high crease of his double eyelid. Such a strong jaw, inky black hair tousled but in the way that makes him look like a boy rather than a gangster.

With his legs spread, and his broad shoulders. His gloved hands crossed over his chest. You place yourself between his knees and when he turns you're momentarily caught off guard.

Holy. Fuck.

You'd seen scars before. Missing fingers, milky eyes, nicked lips, tattoos having a streak of pink flesh forever ruining it. This guy must've royally pissed someone off to have his fucked up like that. Despite that, as his good eye processes you're in front of him, he clams up like a shy school girl.

No slimy smirk, no rough hands gripping at your ass, no flare of scent. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his mouth gapes. When you touch him, he stiffens just slightly, but he keeps his hands to himself. Behind you, the bassist's fingers stutter, missing his rhythm for a split second before smoothly recovering.

Leaning in, you continue to sing right into his good ear, feeling the scars on his chest through the thin shirt. Which gives your nimble fingers to the chance to feel the leather straps he had and your eyes widen.

Fuck, he must be some sort of legend here, huh? Sitting in VIP, having a fucking gun on him.

You glance at the woman behind him and you suck in a quick breath as she narrows her eyes at you. The girls around her all shoot you concerned expressions, lips pursing as they ping-pong between you and the scarred man beneath you.

Oh, shit. Were they together or something?

You pull away, attempting to keep your heart calm as you continue to play off this entire act as smoothly as you can. Lifting your hand upwards, just to tease his Adam's apple and then turn away.

But the second your hand is past his collarbones, he reacts. His grip is deadly. Your bones wheeze under the pressure and the leather gloves he wears creak along with it.

Be calm, you tell yourself. He can't shoot you in the middle of a show in front of everyone...can he?

Cold sweat beads down the back of your neck. Still, you keep your composure.

The show must go on.

He looks at your face and falters, so you offer his chin a quick brush as thanks before you swiftly turn to walk away. Your heart racing in your chest. The stage, the stage is safe.

Not if he decides to shoot you from there, you think solemnly. You shoot him another glance, and your gazes clash together. His hands are on his lap, gripping his knees instead. Far away from his gun.

You're safe.

The curtains close and you close your eyes, placing a hand over your chest as you grip onto the microphone stand. A hand grabs at your shoulder and you barely suppress the yelp when it spins you around. It's the bassist, a tall lanky alpha with his wavy hair always neatly slicked back. The entire band is standing, making their way to you with concern so evident between the crease in their brows.

"Are you fucking stupid?"

Instantly, their concern makes you annoyed. You smack his hand away and frown. You put the microphone back in its place and take out your in-ear, sighing tiredly as you walk past them.

"No, I'm not stupid, hyung." He chases after you behind stage, his bass still slung across his neck.

"Then you must be suicidal! Do you know who the hell you just groped?" Your shoulders raise and your cheeks warm. You turn to glare at him, tugging away that stupid feathered boa and scowling.

"I didn't fucking grope anyone! Shit, what's the big fucking deal? I didn't know he had a girlfriend, or wife, or madam, okay?" He shakes his head and takes steps towards you, hands raise as he emphasizes his shock.

"That's Kim Jeong-Hyun. Kim fucking Jeong-Hyun. And the woman behind him? That's his sister, Kim Seo-Yun."

"Ha-Joon-hyung, there's a million fucking Kim's in this country. Gangsters don't have a gangster-pedia, I don't know who they are, nor do I care," you say exasperatedly. Ha-Joon's hands flap around wildly for a moment as he stutters, trying his hardest it seemed to not just grab your shoulders and shake you around.

"Hyung, I'm really tired — " you turn " — and I'm not interested in knowing who they are. I'll just avoid them next time, okay? I've got an early shift tomorrow, see you."

Ha-Joon's hands drop to his side as he stares at you walking away.

"...He's fucking crazy...that kid is fucking crazy..."

A week or so after that, your life continues as normal. Your legal part-time job had been uneventful. Not much customers, and the few that were there had been polite. You hope your shady part-time job was as mundane. Arriving through the back of a seafood restaurant, you greet the dishwasher who'd been smoking as he crouched under a flickering light.

"Hey, got any leftovers from tonight?" he nods, offering you a smile as he stands. "Got some packed away for you already, left it in your room."

You beam up at him, thanking him and slipping under his arm when he opens the door for you. The restaurant was winding down, cleaning up and preparing the drunkards that'll meander in. You greet a few familiar faces, expertly getting out of their way until you finally reach the door that leads you underground.

Your room was tiny. A vanity squeezed in with one flimsy rack of clothes and a poorly ventilated bathroom. You find your dinner awaiting you and eagerly sit down to feast. But then something catches your eye.

Flowers were normal. Not wanted but easy to get rid off.

These were not flowers. You stared at the box for a moment. Chocolates? No. It's a wide box. A lot of chocolates? Sighing, you reach over and stare at the unfamiliar logo on the box, picking up the note it came with.

Keep u safe - K. JH

You blink a few times as you stare at the messy handwriting. When you look at the box again, you are torn between feeling relief that you hadn't pissed him off and feeling a bit scared that you'd apparently caught his eye. When opened, the box reveals a fucking knife. Not an ordinary kitchen knife either. It was a proper fucking knife — for hunting. Animals and people. The blade was shining under the bulbs of your vanity; the handle rough and hefty and dark. You drop the lid, taking a step back only to stiffen as a familiar voice speaks from behind you.

"Fucking weirdo, right?"

"Boss!" You turn and bow at the waist, he regards you with a smile and nod. You straighten up and turn your attention to the fucking knife on your desk sitting all pretty and safe. Next to it seemed to be its sheath, along with some sort of straps.

He bought you the whole fucking set?

"What kind of alpha gifts an omega a fucking knife? Kim fucking Jeong-Hyun, that ugly bastard," he enters the already too small room and you bump into the clothing rack to give him room. He lifts the knife and whistles, eyeing the sharp edge.

"...Do you wanna take it?" you wonder as you watch his face from the mirror. He cringes, tilting his head and hissing through his teeth as he uses the mirror to glance your way too. "And lose my fucking hand? Hell no. If any of his sisters men sees me with this? I'm as good as dead."

He slips the knife into its sheath, carefully putting it back in the box then kicking the fallen lid to your feet. He notices your dinner and picks up the plastic bowl, taking the lid off and taking a sniff. He leans on the table and shamelessly grabs the plastic spoon in the plastic to take a bite.

"I forgot to tell you not to get in their way, my mistake. I thought with a face that ugly you'd be too scared to get close anyways." He speaks through mouthfuls of rice. You lose your appetite.

"Who is he, sir?" you shifted your weight from one foot to another. He chews, swallowing thickly then answers.

"His sisters monster. Her hellhound. Nobody has any idea what hole those two freaks crawled out of, but they've been killing entire fucking gangs in the 3 years they're here. Entire bloodlines." He points the spoon your way, splashing some soup your way and you flinch as some rice sticks to your cheek. You frown, he ignores it.

"3 years, fucking insane! Burning down buildings, painting entire towns red until the leader puts his head on the floor and submits. Fucking brats, she doesn’t even use honorifics when speaking to me. That bitch."

Okay, perhaps you should have listened to Ha-Joon.

"You know I heard that once he cut off someone's arms and legs and left them crawling on the ground? Sicked his dogs on them. Heard that poor bastard's dick got torn off by some German Shepherd."

Your appetite was officially gone and your face was surely a shade of green now. He glances at the box again, shaking his head as he takes another hefty bite of your dinner.

"He give a note or something?" You squeeze the card in your hand and slip it behind you. He scoffs as you shake your head. "Yeah, thought so. 'pparently he's dimwitted. Just stay away from him next time, yeah? Hurts my heart just thinkin' of your pretty face getting ripped apart."

He pats your shoulders as he walks out. Well, there goes your dinner. For a moment, you take a moment to process what you’d been told before you reread the note in your hand.

Keep u safe — K.JH

After that night, like some ironic joke, you haven't felt safe. You feel followed. Everywhere you went, you were certain someone was there to watch. In the beginning, when the hairs on your neck prickled in the middle of your part-time job of serving people food, you thought that it was just paranoia. But then, then, you start seeing them.

Men in black caps and face masks. Women with their phone camera always tilted your way. Just in your peripheral, always avoiding your gaze and smoothly slipping away when they know that you know.

That knife was still in its box, you refused to use it. Keeping it under your bed out of all places. But lately, you swear all you can think about when you're at home is how its just right there.

Keep u safe.

Did he know something you didn't? Was he actually just trying to give you a fighting chance against these pro-stalkers? Or were you losing your goddamn mind and the stress was getting to you?

A month of this and you were already contemplating carrying a weapon that'd just get you in more trouble. What did you know about handling a knife like that?

You were scared of nicking your knuckles whenever you were cooking. Did he think you would just magically understand how self-defense worked?

You knocked on Ha-Joon's door. He's been expecting you so he opens with no trepidation. You had a backpack and a duffel bag, greeting him politely and he allows you inside his home. It's nothing grand but he had a guest bedroom and he pitied you enough.

"Thanks, hyung" he shuts the door behind you and sighs. "Don't mention it."

He was a scaredy cat but he couldn't let you keep this up. You'd been sleeping in the room backstage, putting on more concealer and constantly gazing off into nothingness. One of the band members had offered you cocaine and the second he saw you even contemplating it he knew you were at your wits end.

It's one thing to keep gangsters entertained, it's another to be dirtying your hands with the same filth.

He leads you to your room, hoping that sleeping under the same roof as another person would give your anxieties some reprieve.

You place your things down and sit at the edge of the bed, swaying a bit and he bids you goodnight for now.

When the curtains raise, he's there. Right there. In front of you, looking up at you. His sister was nowhere in sight. Instead, there's a pack of men and women behind of him. They're not even looking at you, they have other omegas or betas hanging off their arms and seem intent on keeping their gaze away from you.

He's staring at you. Tilting his head slowly, the left side of his face kept hidden in the shadows and you try to keep your heart calm but when he looks at you like that — like he wants to swallow you whole.

The lyrics slip your mind, so you play it off by glancing at the band instead and moving your body to the beat.

Breathe, you remind yourself. You're fine, you're okay, you're safe.

The flash of gore erupting behind your eyelids with every blink was not helping. Your imagination runs wild, conjuring the image of a human torso wriggling desperately on the ground as dogs viciously ripped into him as he screamed.

You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling sharply as you shakily bring the microphone to your lips. Don't tremble, don't let your voice waver. The boss was going to cut your pay if you fuck up.

When you turn to face the crowd again, Jeong-Hyun isn't looking at you anymore. He's signing to the man closest to him, his movements short and concise. The man, who wore sunglasses, nods and then stands. He disappears into the crowd.

You slip down from the stage, as per your routine, and feel instantly trapped. The pack of his men were like maze walls, cold and uninterested. When you approached, they curl their lips in a quick huff, turning their head away and your hand hangs in the air dejectedly. The prize at the end of the maze was obvious. He was waiting for you, looking at you from over his shoulder as you feebly attempted to find someone else anyways.

It was beginning to look pathetic. Every time you did attempt to head over to the leering alphas in the back, you found long legs blocking your way.

Fuck.

You put a smile on your face and float to his side. He doesn't smile, doesn't leer, he fucking blushes. Your brows twitch but you place a hand on his shoulder and move to sit on his lap. He instantly moves to keep you steady, hand floating away from your waist and you wonder if the stalkers were truly his doing.

What kind of mobster is he? Surely a 'hellhound' would be more vicious in their pursuit. You press your chest to his shoulder, curling one hand behind him and brushing his untainted skin. He faces you and his eye was glimmering like molten gold.

When you brush under his jaw — being wary of his neck — he lashes tremble. His gaze softening at once. You experimentally cup his cheek, and he all at once leans into your hold; like a puppy.

You're stunned.

Keep u safe.

There's no way these strange men and women were because of him. It's not like he's the first person to send you gifts — although he is the first person to send you a fucking knife as a gift — and you do interact with dangerous people nightly. Perhaps he really did mean well. In his own weird way. You continue to sing on his lap and he looks up at you like you're the moon.

Monster? Him?

Perhaps the sleep deprivation and working yourself to your bones is starting to cloud your judgement but you reach behind and guide his hand closer.

He can feel it. The shape of the sheath and hilt, just under the slit of your long-dress. Not an ideal place, it’s too high. If you attempted to use it, the fur coat you wore would get in the way and you'd be wasting precious seconds. He flicks his gaze to your thighs and you can feel his gloved hands lift your dress. You squeeze your thighs, eyes widening in alarm but that deadly grip keeps you still.

He pulls the dress up and slips it over your unarmed thigh. The fur coat you wore is keeping it all concealed, so he slips his finger underneath the top band around your thigh.

Too fucking tight, Jesus Christ.

He tugs and your thighs jerk. He fixes it one-handed, seamlessly loosening it and tightening it just right. Your leg tingles in relief. The lower band is still the same, so he loosens it and tenderly strokes the hexagonal pattern that pressed into your skin. Then he fixes the knife, pulls it down so the hilt won't get stuck and just as you finish your song he slips the dress back in place and his hands float away.

When you stand, his eyes flutters close when you brush your wrist across his cheek; he takes a deep inhale and stares at you. If he could, he’d put your scent in a bottle. To savour forever. That mountain peak, that valley of rare flowers — his and only his.

Jeong-Hyun stares up at you. Honey and milk-coloured eyes glowing like the moon.

There's flowers waiting in your room this time. Dark red flowers, an unusual bouquet of exotic flowers. You shut the door behind you and inspect them, noting the card slipped between the petals.

Pretty like u — K. JH

This was a significant improvement from the knife. Your thighs prickle at the memory of his touch and you shake your head. Sitting down, you lean in to take a whiff and the blend of scents makes your ears warm. That base, a woody blend of oak and ash; a constant burning ember.

It smells like Jeong-Hyun. Kim fucking Jeong-Hyun.

He was strange. From his scribbly handwriting to his muted self; the scars on his face and body; the bashfulness he exhibits; the attentiveness he provides you with.

Those big hands adjusting the gift he gave you. Silent, admiring, courteous.

You place your arms on the desk and melt onto it, brows furrowed.

There’s no way you would ever catch yourself falling for him. You weren’t jetting to be some helpless omega ensnared in some mob romance. This wasn’t going to happen. You could imagine fucking him or being sweet with him, but could that actually happen?

You’ve had enough with loan sharks and now weird stalkers.

You just wanted to survive.

Shutting your eyes, you hide your face in your arms.

Just survive.

Everything will die down soon enough. Still, as you move to remove your coat and undress yourself — the sight of the knife holstered to your thigh as you stand naked in the mirror, it stirs something in your hindbrain. Your inner-omega, that stupid little shit, was incredibly pleased. Goosebumps spread as you remember his touch and you inch closer to the mirror.

You slip a finger under the strap and shudder. The flowers scent had permeated through the tiny room and you feel like he’s here. All over you. Close enough to feel how he burns.

Bowing your head, you curse under your breath. Slick was beginning to appear and you can’t risk stinking up this room. It’s a stupid risk and you aren’t fucking stupid. Not a damsel omega in distress.

Your stomach howling in hunger distracts you enough. Reaching for your casual wear, you hurriedly dress and shove the knife into your backpack. You glance over at the flowers as you open the door.

“...Fuck.”

The bouquet box is small enough to fit under your arm but not small enough to be inconspicuous. So you don’t flinch when the guy who guards the backdoor of the restaurant asks if you need him to dispose of it.

“Nah, these are way too nice!” you chirp out. At this, he pauses and raises his thick brow. Flustered, you bid him goodbye and rush to Ha-Joon’s idling car.

Pretty or not, you know how people would see it. An omega accepting an alphas gifts, twice now, was an obvious sign that the courting was being accepted. Ha-Joon’s displeasure at the sight of flowers was so obvious you send him a pleasing look he disregards.

“You’re really losing your head...”

“I’ll throw ‘em out! But not here, okay? What if he sees I do and he turns me into a human stick?” Ha-Joon’s face turns white and he mutters that you have an active imagination. But your lame reasoning has him reluctantly nodding so you count it as a win.

Unbeknownst to you, the sight of that bouquet under your arm had already made Jeong-Hyun’s heart flutter. He watches as Ha-Joon’s car drives off, hidden in the shadows as he takes special notice of his license plate.

You were accepting his gifts. His knife and his flowers. Jeong-Hyun felt his lips twitching and he pushed himself off the rough walls to continue keeping his eyes on the car. A lightness in his step that dissipates as he takes notice of an unnerving sight. The headlights of a car in the alleyway across from him.

Rationale should tell him this was most likely just a coincidence but his instincts bare its teeth. The car pulls out and goes along the same road that Ha-Joon’s had. He huffs through his nose, brows furrowed.

Trouble.

Jeong-Hyun’s knuckles whiten as he imprints the car's license plate to his memory.

Danger.

When it escapes from his sight, he turns sharply on his heel and makes his way to his own car. He gets inside, grinding his teeth together as he fishes his phone out from his jacket.

Keep u safe.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #male reader #reader insert #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #yandere character #yandere x male reader #yandere x you #yandere x yn

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