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chleem · 3 months ago

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Not a big deal pt4

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament.

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ p3 | index | p5

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The ringing of your phone jolts you awake, no longer dreaming.

Your head throbs, the bright sunlight seeping through the curtains only adding to the ache. The loud ring of your phone makes it hard to focus, and for a moment, you can’t quite piece together where you are.

But the arm wrapped around you reminds you of just where you are, and who you’re with.

Slowly turning your face, you find yourself looking into Drew’s. He’s asleep, completely unaware to the loud ringing. His features are relaxed, eyelids closed, his breathing slow, and a small smile sits on his face.

What is he dreaming about?

You focus on memorizing every inch of Drew’s face, studying the soft lines, the way his lashes rest against his skin, the gentle curve of his lips.

A strange mix of disbelief and nostalgia swells inside you. He looks so much like the Drew from four years ago—the one you lost your virginity to.

Part of you wonders if he’s still that same person, or if he’s changed just as much as you have.

Your phone quiets down eventually, your caller giving up.

Well, at least you thought so. The ringing comes back, and this time, it causes Drew to flutter his eyes open. He rubs his eyes, yawning as he focuses his gaze to you. The small curve of his lips from earlier is replaced with a grin that stretches ear-to-ear, and his eyes hold a lazy look.

“Morning, baby,” his voice is deeper in the morning, a raspy coat layered on.

You mirror his smile, the nickname causing your heart to skip a beat, “morning.”

“How long have you been staring?”

“The whole night,” you teasingly say, which earns a low chuckle from him.

“No wonder I had a nightmare,” he jokes back, his arm going around you once again and pulling you close. He nudges his face into your neck, a groan escaping probably from the loud ringing phone, “who’s calling?”

You frown, your hand reaching behind you for your phone on the nightstand.

You glance at the screen, Luke. Your brother? Why on earth is he calling now?

“I just woke up,” you say, forcing out a groan, trying to sound as casual as possible. You can hear Luke moving around on the other end of the line—his footsteps shuffling.

“Shit, were you in a fucking coma? Open the fucking door.”

What.

Your heart sinks at the sudden shift in his tone, a sharp tension filling your chest. That last part… Open the door?

You push Drew away, immediately sitting up. “Um, what do you mean-“

“I’m outside your room. Did you not hear, I rang the-“

The rest of Luke’s words fly by your ear. You were wide awake now, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Luke’s outside of your door. Drew’s naked in your bed.

You know Luke. You know how he reacts to things like this. And it’s not going to be pretty. His temper is explosive, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

You cover your microphone, and whisper to Drew, “get. out.”

“What?” Drew chuckles, his voice dropping to a softer tone, confused by your sudden urgency. “Why are we whispering?”

Right after, Luke stops himself mid-sentence, his voice cutting through the line, sharp and loaded with suspicion. “…wait, are you with someone?”

“Get out,” you slap Drew’s arm to get him moving, mouthing the words, “Luke’s outside!”

Drew’s eyes widen the same way yours did before. He stumbles off the bed, catching himself just before he crashes to the floor. It would be funny if you weren’t on the risk of getting caught by your brother. “No, just, just give me a minute, yeah? I’m getting ready-“

You get out of bed too, the phone propped on your shoulder. Drew and your clothes are scattered around the floor, mixed together.

You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the nightstand as Luke's complaining echoes through the room. Quickly, you put on your nightgown, searching for a clean pair of underwear.

You glance at Drew. He’s in his boxers, scrambling to find his pants. Is he trying to get caught? “Hurry,” you whisper-yell, looking around for his clothes.

Drew shoots you a blank stare, moving to the other side of the bed.

“Are you done yet? My legs are dying-“

“Almost! Just wait, okay?” You yell back at the phone.

“Y/n, seriously, been out here for forever-“

You find his button-up from last night tucked under the couch, and you toss into his arms. A chuckle escapes his lips as he barely catches it.

Drew walks past you with his shirt unbuttoned, tie and jacket in his hands. He grabs his shoes, and gets ready to open the door.

You quickly pull him back, “are you stupid?” You mean that with all your heart; Luke is literally on the other side of the door, and he wants to open it?

Instead, you swing open the bathroom door and shove Drew inside. "Stay here for a while, alright?”

"What, no—“

You slam the bathroom door shut without another word, then quickly turn to the front door, your hand already on the handle. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before facing Luke.

Forcing a smile, the door opens, impatience written all over Luke’s face. “Finally,” he mutters, brushing past you. His rudeness isn’t a surprise—it’s just how he is.

You mumble something under your breath, closing the door behind you. Luke’s already sprawled out on your couch, legs propped up casually like he owns the place.

At the same time, both of you spot the wine glasses on the coffee table, their presence suddenly hanging in the air, adding a layer of tension you can’t ignore.

“Alright, where is he?” Luke asks, his voice low but demanding as he sits up, scanning the room to find the owner of the other glass.

Your first instinct is to stop him from getting anywhere near the bathroom. You quickly sit down beside Luke, your hand pushing him back onto the couch. “It’s... yours,” you say, the words coming out quicker than it should.

Luke looks at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, then down at the wine glass, before he narrows his gaze. “What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone sharp now, sensing- no, knowing something's off.

“Y’know, it’s a nice hotel, let’s have some coffee,” you say, a lame attempt at sounding casual. You grab the glasses, and with the coffee maker in the small kitchen, you press the open button.

Sneaking a glance at your brother, his gaze never leaves you, his tongue poking against his tongue.

“Latte? Oh, they have espresso,” you continue, keeping your voice steady, scrolling through the options.

“No,” his voice stops you, and you turn around, watching as he gets up. “I gotta leave anyways.”

This time, the smile on your face isn’t fake. “So soon?”

“Yeah, just came to check on you,” Luke gives you a tight smile, his hand reaching for the door handle. “I’ll send an Uber, ‘kay?”

You nod, a bit too eagerly that shows your interest in him leaving.

Although still suspicious, Luke gives you one last glance before opening the door and stepping out. “Take care of yourself,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost like he's unsure of what to make of the situation.

The door clicks shut behind him, and for a moment, all you can do is breathe, your shoulders relaxing for the first time since he walked in.

Finally.

Opening the bathroom door, you look around for Drew.

Only to find him laying in the bathtub, fully clothed, his tall figure awkwardly trying to fit in the small space. His arms are thrown out to either side, and his fingers fidget with his ring.

You lean against the doorframe, and when his blue eyes peek at you, a smile appears on his lips. “Hey,” he says, “made myself a home here, I guess.”

You chuckle at his words, and you sit down at the edge of the tub. “Real comfortable there.”

Drew lets out a breathy laugh, shifting lightly. He glances at his watch, the smile fading just a bit, “I’ve got to go too.”

Right, team practice.

A brief, almost impulsive thought crosses your mind—to ask him for his number, to stay in touch. Is that a ridiculous thought? You’re not sure. You’re not even sure why the idea is lingering, but it feels... right, somehow. Maybe because, despite everything, you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

At least, not with this Drew.

Your chain of thoughts breaks, with a tough tug on your wrist.

When you’ve come to your senses, you’re in the tub with him, seated in his lap.

The warmth radiating off of him is ridiculously comfortable, the blue eyes almost smitten as they look into yours.

You lean into him, closing your eyes, instinctively tilting your face toward his. You can feel the breath between you both, the tension building, and just as you’re about to close the distance—nothing.

No contact.

You peek at him through one eye, a little confused.

A throaty laugh escapes him, full of amusement.

Shyly, you move away, only to be pulled back towards him, his hand finding the back of your neck.

And then, he finally kisses you, gentle yet affectionate.

It feels different than last night; The kiss feels deeper, more meaningful, and the thought that it might end soon makes your chest tighten with an ache.

To last longer, you rest your arms around his neck, thrusting your tongue deeper into his mouth.

Another chuckle escapes Drew, and he pulls away this time.

With hooded eyes, you catch the soft smile on his lips. “Tryna get me in trouble?” The teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flutter, along with the way he stares at you.

“Maybe,” you giggle, and with a roll of your hips against him, he groans, his hands squeezing your waist. He rests his head at the rim of the tub, and you take the chance to kiss his neck.

“Could be late-“ his words come out hushed, as your tongue grazes over the soft skin of his neck, “a minute or two.”

“Mmhm,” you bring your lips back up to his, and you kiss him again, this time, hungry and demanding. Your hips roll against his, and you could feel his boner poking your inner thigh.

Your heart speeds up at the thought of doing it right here with Drew, in the bathtub.

One of his hand slips under your nightgown; kneading your ass.

It’s the way his blue eyes lustfully stare up at yours, that you continue rubbing your pussy against his lower abdomen.

Drew readjusts his position, to allow the dent in his pants to rub closer to your wet pussy, your hips riding off the closeness. His low grunts sounds like music to your ears, the occasional rise of his hips offering more satisfaction to your core.

“You like that?” Drew's voice, low and raspy, breaks the noise of soft moans and grunts, as his hand gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Grinding on my cock?”

Fuck. Your brain races with the thoughts of last night, his cock buried deeply in you. The hard length fucking the senses out of you.

“Drew…” you moan out, sounding more desperate than expected. Your hands clutch on his suit jacket in tight fists, bouncing yourself on his clothed length.

A breathless chuckle leaves his mouth, his other hand resting at the back of your neck. You feel the rough and cold material of his ring against your jaw, his thumb grazing the skin of your bottom lip.

“Don’t stop, baby,” he coos, and you feel his dick twitch beneath you. The subtle movement sends your mind into further frenzy, encouraging the orgasm building inside of you.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

This time, the sound comes from inside the bathroom, in the tub, the phone that lays beside Drew’s thigh.

You don’t even glance at it, consumed with building your orgasm.

He’s not gonna answer anyways-

Drew picks it up, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone.

A moan escapes your lips, and he sticks two fingers into your mouth, deep until it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, you cough out, which makes Drew chuckle softly, a mumbled “sorry” escaping his lips, followed by a quiet, ‘shhh.’

You feel a knot grow in your lower stomach, as he raises his hips and thrusts into yours. You suck at the fingers in your mouth, the ring rubbing against your cheek.

“Nothing- I’m working out,” he forces out, speaking into the phone. There’s a certain thrill in his voice, a hint of excitement that lingers as he speaks.

He couldn’t be honest and say currently having your sister ride against my cock.

Although, the thought turns him on more, and he feels another twitch down at his dick.

“Mhm,” he hums mindlessly into the phone, leaning his head back. His mouth parts in awe, forcing his eyes to stay open.

The hand on your ass grips tighter, averting all the desire to moan there.

Whimpering against his fingers, you feel the knot inside of you come undone, the warm juice flowing out and definitely staining your underwear.

You stop sucking his fingers, and you send him a lazy smile, your hips moving slower to ride your orgasm out. When you glance down at his pants, you can see the light stain, yours or his unsure.

“What, no-“ his brows furrow together, listening in on whoever’s on the other line.

You move back further until you’re no longer on his lap; tilting your head to study his face.

But Drew’s hand catches yours, and guides it to the bulge in his pants. He’s still hard.

You almost moan at the feeling of his thick length underneath your fingertips, Drew stifling back moans too.

With that, your hands work its magic; palming and massaging his dick, as Drew tries his best to listen intently on the phone.

“Mhm, yeah,” he agrees into the phone, his voice hitching slightly to hold back moans. You chuckle quietly at that, your hands continuing its touching of his clothed length.

His hand reaches for you once more, and when you straddle his waist again, it slides to the back of your neck. His lips crash against yours almost desperately, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Your hands cup his face, kissing him back with the same urgency.

Drew groans into your lips, but not before hanging up on the phone. It drops inside the tub, the loud thud ignored by the both of you.

His orgasm flows through him; the liquid spilling out onto his boxer briefs.

The kiss breaks, and you both lean your foreheads together, gasping for air.

It’s silent, only the distant sound of AC running.

Then, a breathless laugh slips from you as you process what just happened.

“Who were you calling?” You ask, genuinely curious. Your thumb rubs circles on his cheek, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.

There’s the same mischievous glint in his blue eyes, causing your stomach to twist slightly. “Best if you didn’t know,” he murmurs, his grip on your waist tightening as he straightens up.

You furrow your brows, ready to ask him more.

“You wanna have lunch together?" His suddenly asks, his voice softening.

The question catches you off guard. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze, your mind racing. Is it... a date? Of course it is. But... is that what you really want?

Well, four years ago you would’ve loved to go out with a dude named Drew.

But the reminder of your brother meeting with you later flashes by.

“Can’t,” you shrug apologetically at him, as the hand on the back of your neck starts to play with your necklace.

Having some fun of your own, you run your hands through his hair, the short strands brushing against your fingers. “Okay…dinner,” Drew suggests instead.

His blue eyes now stare pleadingly into yours, biting on his lower lip as he silently waits for your answer.

Okay. You’re leaving tomorrow night, it wouldn’t hurt to have a private meal with him.

You nod, reaching up to gently pull his lip away from his teeth, a soft smile tugging at your own.

The look in his eyes softens, a hint of curiosity flickering as he leans in a little closer. His hands leave you, reaching for his phone. ”Number?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Just as you’re about to tell him, he adds, “not your brother’s, though.”

Your eyes furrow at his comment; what’s that supposed to mean?

But he just shakes his head, finding his own joke amusing, “no- never mind. Go ahead.”

Slowly, you tell him his number, and soon enough, you hear your own phone ringing in the background.

“Thanks, I’ll text you,” he kisses your cheek, gently shifting you off of him, “now, I really need to go.”

You watch as he gets up, and you immediately miss his warmth. He gets out the tub first, but not before turning around to offer his hand.

You smile at the simple yet soft gesture, and take it, letting him help you out the tub.

“I might see you later,” you tell him, as Drew leads you along with him, to the door.

“Really?” Drew’s hand catches the door handle, pushing it open. He turns back to face you, and with your hand still in his, he takes the opportunity to place a gentle kiss there. “I’m looking forward to that already.”

Why can’t he just skip practice?

“Alright,” you smile, taking your hand out of his, patting down the roughed part of his suit jacket, “get out of here.”

His lips curve into a half-smile, and he gives a playful shrug as he takes a step back. "Bossy," he teases, his voice light but warm, “see you.”

The soft click of the door closing echoes in the quiet room.

With your back against the door, you slide down to the floor, your legs pulling up as you wrap your arms around them.

Blush creeps onto your cheeks as your mind races, replaying the moments with Drew—the look in his eyes, the feel of his lips on your skin, the way he seemed so different, yet so familiar.

You close your eyes, leaning your head against the door, trying to shake off the warmth still lingering in your chest.

Why does it feel like there's more to it than just... whatever that was? You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know one thing for sure: this wasn’t how you imagined your visit here to be like.

——

You’ve never been to a real basketball stadium before.

At first, the staff was unexpectedly rude, shutting you down before you even had a chance to introduce yourself. Just as things seemed hopeless, the manager stepped in, recognizing your name and quickly handing you a ‘visitor’ badge.

He guides you through narrow corridors, until you make it into a more promising section of the place. The air was filled with the scent of fresh gear, and before you knew it, you passed by one of the locker rooms. You catch a brief glimpse inside - a few tall, fit, shirtless dudes who walked around, chatting away.

Even at your grown-up age, seeing half-naked guys still made you fluster, averting your gaze.

Following the manager, the path leads to a visible court ahead, the bright lights blinding into the small tunnel. The loud sounds of dribbling and sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor echo, growing louder with each step.

Stepping out the tunnel, the staff leads you to the front seats, finding one that isn’t occupied by towels or bags.

Something about an empty stadium with only its players sends a weird feeling to your brain - the scene surreal somehow.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, who just nods, walking away.

Sitting down on the black leathered seat, you look out at the court, taking in the players currently practicing.

Your instincts kick in, and you scan the floor— spotting Drew, even with his team members running around and dribbling. He's easy to find, his tall frame and confident stride standing out as he lines up for a three-pointer.

The ball leaves his hands with a smooth flick, arcing toward the hoop, and you watch as it swishes through the net.

Shit. It’s the way he nonchalantly grabs another ball from the rack, dribbles it once, twice, before casually sinking another three-pointer, his expression completely unbothered that gets you. Other than your heart, something else is throbbing inside of you.

Like magnets, your eyes focus solely on Drew, even more when you realize the waistband of Calvin Klein peeking out from his shorts. And of course, the v-line that follows-

Thwack!

A ball hits you square in the face, snapping you out of your trance. The sharp impact leaves you blinking, momentarily stunned.

Slowly, pain creeps into your right jaw, mostly centered there.

Great. Sitting down for what, not even five minutes?

As you raise your hand to your face, trying to steady yourself from the blow, the blurry figure of a man slowly comes into focus. He looks flustered as he stammers an apology, but you don’t respond. The pain in your jaw is all-consuming, your head still spinning from the unexpected hit.

“What the fuck, man!”

The loud yell of your brother cuts through the stadium, sharp and full of anger. You don’t even have time to react before he’s charging toward you, his face red. Without hesitation, he roughly shoves the man in front of you, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

For fuck’s sake, your brother’s outrage might be more frustrating than being hit by a ball…. Does he always have to cause a scene? What a drama queen.

Even with the pain radiating through your jaw, you manage to drag your hand up and pull the edge of Luke’s shorts. The movement is slow, but it’s enough to make him turn around immediately.

“Shit, y/n, you okay?” He tones his voice down, his features softening as he sits down beside you.

The lights above you start to drown out; which was because of the crowd gathering around you. They pretend to take a break- but everyone knows it’s to catch a glimpse of a fight threatening to erupt between Luke and his teammate.

The ache is unbearable, and yet you still manage to lock eyes with Luke. Through clenched teeth, you choke out, “you idiot.”

Luke's eyes widen, guilt flooding his features. Hesitating, his hand hovers near your shoulder, unsure of what to do.

“Get me an ice pack, dummy,” you rasp, voice thick with frustration.

Luke winces at your tone, and you catch the muffled laughter from his teammates.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, “I’ll get it.” He hurries off, without another word.

The guy that hit you with the ball apologies once again, and you reassure that you’re okay. Your eyes drift over to the other players, who immediately pretend to be busy with something else.

You sigh, closing your eyes, as you lean back into the chair. The noise and ruffling of bags fade away as you focus on the pain, trying to relieve it. You place your hands in your lap, relaxing yourself.

But not even a minute in, a soothing, familiar voice brings you back.

“Hey baby,”

You crack your eyes open, and there he is, standing in front of you, a concerned smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His blue eyes stare down at you, the gleam in them brighter than the stadium lights.

Drew.

Your brain immediately replays the scenes of this morning— his lips against yours, his hands all over you, and the call during the…sex?

He doesn’t wait for an answer; simply sits down beside you, his presence warm and steady. You can feel the tension in his body as he watches you carefully, fidgeting with his hands that lay on his lap.

The uncontrollable ache in your chest isn’t from the pain, but rather nervous. Fuck. He probably saw the whole process of Luke getting mad! Now you’re embarrassed. Your face is definitely swollen, red, ugly-

“Um, I’ve been hit…multiple times too,” he carefully starts, and you avert your gaze to his face, locking eyes with him. “Ice packs don’t, really work.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, your lips in a small frown as you wonder where he’s going with this.

His eyes flicker to his teammates, who are clearly stealing glances at the two of you. The quiet murmurs around you seem to make him shift slightly, though, and suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the space between you two. His body scoots closer, letting his knee rests against yours.

The contact is casual, but it sends an unexpected jolt of warmth through you. You catch yourself glancing down at where your legs meet.

His voice lowers just a touch, teasing, “kissing…much better.”

You blink, caught off-guard by his words. The smirk on his lips only deepens, his gaze locked on yours. “Official recommendation?” You manage to say, reflecting the teasing tone back at him.

He shrugs, sending you an air-kiss, his lips pursed in a playful manner. “Worked in the past.”

“And how many…have you offered?” You jokingly ask, a small smile now present on your lips, as your body relaxes itself in his presence.

Now it’s Drew’s turn, taken aback by your reply. You giggle at that, as he licks his lips, nodding slowly. He rests an arm over the back of your seat, fingers brushing your back and burning the skin there.

“You caught me,” Drew says, readjusting his hips to angle his body inches closer (even more close; if that’s even possible) to you. “…just wanted to kiss you…again.”

The words are barely above a whisper, but you hear it.

You swallow, trying to keep the flutter in your chest under control, but the soft touches he starts giving on your back makes it hard. His fingers rub circles on the bare skin that your top doesn’t cover; making your heart skip a beat.

It feels like you’re back in high school again, a silly crush.

Or rather, the specific crush you had on the Drew from WCU.

Drew’s gaze flicks down to your lips for a moment, a slight shift in his expression that’s almost too subtle to notice — but you catch it. His eyes meet yours again, and you can sense a change, something a little deeper in his look now, less playful and more... intent.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice now softer, changing the topic. The teasing from before has faded, replaced by something a little more earnest. “Feeling better, at least?”

“Yes,” you reply with a smile. The pain was long forgotten since he sat down. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head lightly, before muttering, “as long as you’re okay,” the sincerity in his voice palpable. You feel a strange warmth spreading in your chest, the kind that makes you forget all the chaos around you.

“Um, do you like the place I sent?” Drew changes the topic, and you quickly understand what he’s referencing—he texted you with an address earlier, just before practice. A restaurant that looks like it belongs in a hidden corner of an old European city.

You get ready to say yes, that it’s great, but of course, your eyes drift over his shoulder, and you see the faint image of Luke running over.

The moment- over, just like that.

You quickly look away from Drew, and sensing the change, he sits up, adjusting his position away from you. His hand back in his lap, his knee no longer resting against yours; he creates an invisible border between you two.

It stings for a moment; but your brother reaching you distracts it.

“Here,” Luke hands you the ice pack, breathing heavily. You take it, placing it against your jaw as Luke’s eyes flicker over to Drew beside you, acting nonchalant. “Starkey.”

Drew looks up at the call of his last name, a tight smile on his lips, “yeah?”

“In my seat,” Luke replies, his voice casual but the tone carrying an underlying edge, even though the other seat beside you was empty.

To which, Drew glances over your shoulder, at the said seat. But Luke doesn’t follow his gaze. Instead, his eyes stay locked on Drew, and you can almost feel the tension between them, thick and unspoken. Drew's posture shifts slightly, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to protest.

But he doesn’t.

With a small shrug, Drew stands up, walking past Luke to the court. He doesn’t turn around for another glance; and joins another teammate to practice.

Luke drops to the chair that was previously occupied, and his body relaxes, his features softening. “You alright?” He asks again.

“Took you long enough,” you complain instead, turning your body towards the court. Unknowingly you had your body shifted over to Drew when he was still sitting here.

Luke doesn’t react; his glare enough to melt the ice pack. “I could get him benched, y’know?”

You glance at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. "What?" You ask, raising an eyebrow, your heart sinking slightly. “Drew? He was just checking up on me-“

“Smith, the one that hit you.”

Oh.

Well, unless it was Drew, you truly cared less.

“No, Luke, it was an accident,” you shrug, trying to sound sincere. Your eyes follow Drew on the court, as he successfully jumps and bats the ball out of the other player’s hands.

“Yeah…no,” Luke mutters, clear that he’s definitely telling the coach. His eyes follow your gaze, and he pokes your shoulder roughly to get your attention. Tearing your eyes away from Drew, you send him a glare. “What did, uh, Drew talk to you about?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter slightly, but ultimately shrug, playing it casually, “he asked if I was fine. That’s all.”

Luke looks at you, clearly not persuaded.

“Nothing big,” you add on, sending him a smile.

The ice pack starts to melt in your hands, and noticing it, Luke reaches over to a bag (probably his) and takes a towel out. He hands it to you, but you just narrow your eyes at it, unsure.

“Relax; it’s unused,” Luke says, and reluctantly you take it. You wrap it around the ice pack, putting it on your jaw again. “I don’t think so- Starkey’s full of shit.”

“More than you?” You tease, earning another poke on your shoulder from him.

A part of you wanted to know what your brother meant; another part of you didn’t. Even if he was an asshole, you didn’t want to know. At least, not now, when it’s your vacation, and this lovely dream is washing over you.

“I’m hungry,” you cut whatever Luke wants to say, standing up. “Is the, I don’t know, food court open?”

Luke watches you stand, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watches you, clearly weighing whether or not he should push further. But you can tell he’s deciding against it.

“Nah, that shit’s ass,” he says, a smile tugging on his lips as he stands up. He throws an arm over you, adding extra weight to your shoulders. “I’know a place.”

The strong smell of his sweat hits you; the aftermath of practicing all morning. Your face scrunches up in disgust, as he leads you to the tunnels again, “shower first, you smell like shit.”

He laughs, unfazed, and squeezes your shoulder.

And as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms, Drew watches, his eyes lingering just a second too long.

——

The lack of effort your brother brings truly is, amazing. Blows your mind every. time.

The restaurant he brings you to is the same one as last night, expect well, it’s noon, menu’s different, and oh, you’re sitting outside.

“Anything else?” The waitress says, as she bats her eyelashes over at your brother.

With a cocky grin on his face, he gestures the waitress to lean forward. And when she does, he whispers in her ear, causing her to nod enthusiastically. Great, now he’s even flirting with the staff.

“Food will arrive shortly,” she shyly says, walking away.

Once she’s gone, the discontent is evident on your face, the frown deepening as you cross your arms. “Seriously?” You almost bark at him, causing him to flinch.

“What?” He shrugs, oblivious to your frustration.

“It’s the same place as last night,” you tell him, gesturing around.

“…that’s why we’re here,” Luke says, with that stupid grin on his face, “Hawk players eat here free.”

Your eyebrows furrow deeper at his words, your gaze shifting to the stunning garden view. Now that you’re really looking at it, the place is beautiful—a secret little oasis that could’ve come straight out of a fairytale.

It’s Luke’s rough kick under the table that snaps you back to reality, your attention shifting to him as he gives you a…rather serious look.

“So who were you fucking last night?”

“Luke!” You whisper-yell at him, glancing around. Okay, not a lot of people sitting outside. “You can’t just ask that-“

“C’mon, I’m not a fucking idiot,” he interrupts, leaning back in his chair. It’s clear he didn’t buy whatever you said this morning, his eyes scanning you with the annoying know-it-all look. “You forgot how well I know you, y/n.”

With a roll of your eyes, you press your lips together. No way were you telling him.

Luke scratches his eyebrow, a frown taking over his face. He falls quiet, clearly lost in thought, before his eyes light up with some idea. “How about this…a secret for a secret?”

How ridiculous. This isn’t some middle school game.

“Luke, forget it, I’m not telling you who it was.”

“Ha! So you were with someone,” he exclaims, gently tapping the table.

Your shoulders drop in exasperation, and you give him a seriously? look.

Maybe because it’s the first time (other than Zack) that your brother has actually caught you with someone. The thought makes you cringe, the idea of him knowing about that part of your personal life. It’s always been a no-go zone, same for him.

You open your mouth to tell him off, but he starts his own conversation.

“I fucking hate Drew Starkey.”

The sudden mention of his name catches you off guard, and you freeze, the words hanging in the air. The change in your brother’s demeanor is immediate—his usual cocky attitude replaced with something colder, sharper. It’s unsettling.

However, can’t help but think, Okay…so he is sharing a secret.

“What?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, unsure whether you actually want to know more. You’d already cut him off earlier, back at the court.

“I tried…I tried liking him, and shit, it’s impossible,” Luke laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m still petty after all these years, but-“

His eyes meet yours, and seeing how confused you are, his tensed features relax slightly. He looks at you like you're missing something obvious, like he’s just about to reveal a truth you've been blind to.

“Do you not fucking recognize him?”

You swallow hard, feeling your stomach tighten. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your brother truly hate someone, different from his usual short-tempered self.

“Fuck- he’s the guy I lost the championship to? WCU? Setting my career back-“

His words fade into the background, replaced by a loud sting in your mind.

You blink, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you as you slowly sink back into your seat. The cool surface of the chair feels oddly grounding against the storm of thoughts swirling in your head.

Drew—that Drew, the one who had been your brother's rival, the one he'd spent years trying to beat—the one you lost your virginity to.

The one…you slept with last night. Fuck- that’s why he looks so familiar! The face, his attitude, his jokes- shit.

The memories come rushing in, vivid and jagged, each one like a slap in the face.

You can almost hear the loud music from that frat party, the sound of Drew's voice as he took away your first time - when he rejected you.

“I really like you,” he suddenly admits.

“But you don’t want me,” you say, finding his sudden confession really stupid, not at all flattering to hear.

“Don’t say that.”

“But that’s what you said.”

“Do you like me too?”

You blink again, trying to steady your breath, but the air feels thick.

Your chest tightens, the pressure of everything unsaid between you and Drew settling heavily on your shoulders.

You’ve always thought you were over it—over Drew, over that night, over everything. But the realization hits you now, sharp and unexpected: you weren’t.

You force yourself to focus on Luke’s voice again, but it’s like you’re hearing it underwater. Everything feels muffled, distorted.

“I mean, every time I see that fucking face, I just wanna-“

Shit. Tonight. Your date with Drew.

“-Worse, coach thinks we’re ‘prefect’ together, so I always have to look out for him-“

You no longer have the courage to meet him, the confidence you’ve gathered all destroyed, shattered by your own thoughts. It’s as if every word Luke says is a reminder of how messy everything with Drew really is.

“Fuck- I deserved that win more than anything,” he mumbles on, pettiness written all over his face.

Luke’s words echo in your mind, but you don’t respond.

Your thoughts are loud enough to drown out everything else.

——

Drew sits on the edge of the fountain, just outside the restaurant. The stone surface feels cool beneath him as he stares at the water, the soft ripples catching the dim light.

It’s been nearly thirty minutes, and ever so often, his eyes flicker upward, searching for any sign of you. He’s trying to steady his nerves, but the longer he waits, the more the uncertainty gnaws at him.

Did you stand him up?

He checks his phone screen again- hundreds of texts but none from you.

A bitter smile tugs at his lips as he stares down at his lap, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. He’s just here, waiting, when the answer is so painfully obvious.

“Not a big deal,” Drew mutters to himself, trying to convince his racing thoughts otherwise. He repeats the words again, more firm this time, “not, a big deal.”

He sighs, his eyes darting around as he avoids the curious stares of passersby. The minutes drag on, each one heavier than the last. He waits. waits. and waits.

But you never show up.

-------------------------------

word count: 6.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: FINALLY. i sat down, stared at my laptop, and the words just exploded out of me. sorry i took so long T_T be a bae and ignore any typos xo

do you guys like smaller or bigger fonts? just found out how it change it, and must say, damnnnn. the difference it makes is crazy.

elevator | other | index | pt3 | final

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #fiction #mini series #strangers to lovers #smut #fluff #angst #part 4

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stevesgother · 6 months ago

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Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these.

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat. Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished.

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #friends to lovers #mini series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #i really hope this is good

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i3ujeon · 4 months ago

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───◍⃘ ┈┈─── ֺ ᪄၃ ִ ──┈┈◍⃘ ────

• 𝟐𝟐:𝟐𝟐 Vidαs se encontrαm, αmores se entrelαçαm. ────    꽃

𝗈𝖿ㅤ  ꯲ㅤ  𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴  ㅤ𖹭

• 𝖠 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖾́ 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗈̂𝗋 𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗅 ੭ᰍ ㅤ 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝖺 𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝖺 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝗂𝖼̧𝖺̃𝗈, 𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗌𝖺ㅤ✩ㅤ៶ㅤ

花ㅤ-    声 ?!

• 鑫ㅤㅤ۪ㅤㅤA realidade é o palco ＿ onde nossos corações 𔘘ㅤؚؚ dançam ao ritmo © da saudade e da paixão 𔐬

• 𝟗𝟕 ─── A꯭M꯭O꯭R

O amor traz cor à 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚, mesmo quando a 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒆 é em tons de cinza.

ℒֺ︩︪o𐐷er ꒱ྀ ִֶָ ♡̸̸

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ink-stainedkiss · 24 days ago

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Intertwined - Masterlist

Mini Series

Paring: Bully!Sukuna x Childhood Friend!Reader

You hate him. Completely and utterly loathe his personality, his stupid face, and just being around him. You wanted to stay as far away from him as you could, but fate loves bringing you two back together.

Content: Friends to Enemies to sorta-friends to Lovers, bullying/teasing, Sukuna is a dick, pining, jealousy,fighting, idiots in love, Sukuna is bad at feelings, eventual smut, college Au, revenge sex, realization, drinking/partying,

A/N: First chap will be uploaded in a few mins

Pain in the Ass

You’re Losing Me

Drink You Away

missing u

Remnants

Those Eyes

i miss u 2

More Coming Soon…

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missfitbarbie · 3 months ago

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Who's been naughty?

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quotergirl19 · 11 months ago

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Colin: I’m going to assess your skills in order to help you find the right husband.

Penelope: But I have no skills… is there perhaps a book I can read for tips. I love books.

Colin: Stop talking about books for a minute and let me see you flutter your lashes and fan your bosom at these men over here.

Penelope: They ran away screaming. I’m going to die alone. Will you kiss me once just so I know what it’s like?

Colin: Well, alright. *he kisses her once*

Penelope: Did I do it right?

Colin *unable to hear anything over the sound of blood rushing into his erection*: I’m sorry what? We should practice a bit more while I take your dress off in a carriage. Strictly for educational purposes of course.

Penelope: I’m nothing if not devoted to my studies. How are you with buttons? Never mind, rip the bodice if you must.

20 minutes later…

Penelope *topless in the carriage*: Our friendship is the best.

Colin *muffled because Penelope’s breast is in his mouth*: Sure is.

#Quotergirl mini fic #Bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton netflix #Netflix #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin #friends to lovers #she fell first he fell harder

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radioactiveparker · 1 year ago

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The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader (Mini Series)

Eddie Munson X Fem!Cheerleader!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently. And when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Series Warnings: Enemies to lovers / All Characters Are 18+ / Strong Language / Sex References / Mentions of Abuse (physical and emotional) / Cheating / Bad Relationships / Dysfunctional Families / Arguing / Materialism / Kleptomania / Stereotyping / Sexual Orientations / Drug Use / Mentions of Alcohol / Smoking / Pyromania and Fire / References to Demonianism and Satanism / References to Religious Beliefs / Social Alienation / Angst / Hurt-Comfort / Use of Y/N (like once or twice) / Eddie is a complete asshole

A/N: This mini series is set in its own little world, so it does not follow the Stranger Things timeline, and I have taken some creative liberties with most characters. Yes, they are all still in high school (final year and 18+), and yes, some of the events don't match up - just forget everything you knew about Stranger Things, it's easier that way haha.

“...And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They’re quite aware of what they’re going through...” - David Bowie

Masterlist: (completed)

Part One - These Children That You Spit On

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Part Three - Hallway Vision

Part Four - Hand Over The Purse

Part Five - Don't You Forget About Me

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola @spookysace24

#the breakfast club #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson mini series #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson smut #enemies to lovers #eddie munson enemies to lovers #radioactiveparker #masterlist #radioactiveparker masterlist

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ruporas · 6 months ago

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Mini Wolfwood Plush has a preorder date! Preorders will open in 3 days on 9/22 @ 4PM EST until Oct 6th @ 4PM EST.

Those who input their email on the mailing list should've received one today and if you want to join the mailing list for a reminder on the day of, it's not too late to fill out the google form here!

Original Mini WW Post

#PROGRESS!!!!!! we are making moves. one step closer to many mini wolfwoods in this world...#thank you to those who were waiting for your patienceeee omg T_T #i'm excited to move this project along ... still a lot of things i have to set up and prepare but!!! it's moving along!!!#please tell ur wolfwood lovers friends if theyd perchance be interested in a little guy. he's cute soft and durable i promise #miniwoo

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muniimyg · 3 months ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUPERNOVA // JJK ੈ✩‧₊˚

01 | 02 | ♡ 03

— stuck in an unspoken love triangle, oc and jungkook face the end of it all

au/genre:

mean girl au

love triangle

childhood friends to lovers

note: omg ! the end <3

jungkook had a plan.

he was going to show you around the new exhibit, confess, and ask to be your boyfriend. his entire life, he waited for signs and for the perfect time—only for him to realize that there will never be a moment where bells ring and tell him; now.

no.

you see, after all this time—for his entire life—you have been the quiet.

his quiet.

all his life, it’s like his eyes only focused on you. everything and everyone around him was blurry and the only real clarity he had in his life was art and you… and as corny as it is; that’s what you are to him entirely.

art.

from your pottery, to the way you look, and to the way you simple are—you are his favourite masterpiece.

the canvas gallery is where you two ran around as kids, amazed at all the pieces other artists made. so, it only made sense that this would be the place where he kicks his anxiety in the ass and finally fucking goes for it.

so, he waited.

and waited.

…. and waited.

and right when he was about to call you—

hana showed up.

she grabbed his arm and yapped all about how excited she is to be here with him. to that, jungkook shook off her grip and stepped away.

...

“what are you doing here?”

“___ gave me her ticket—”

“fuck that. hana, why do you always do this? why do you always take things from ___?”

with distant yet jealous eyes, hana replied; “because she has better things than me. i like her things. is it so wrong to like her things?”

“are you insane?”

“maybe.” hana scoffed. “i don’t get it. what does she have that i don’t? we grew up together and did everything together—yet, it’s like… i’m not even half of her.”

“because you aren’t.” he growled. “you hate ___, right?”

silence.

“that’s okay,” jungkook exhaled. “cos i fucking hate you. with all my being. ever since you blew out ___’s 14th birthday candles. ever since you always kissed the guys she was into. ever since her pottery business bloomed and you accidently knocked over a piece she was working on for two months. god, hana. i have and will always hate you.”

“shit, jungkook. is that it? are you done—”

“no,” he sighed. “i will never be done hating you for taking every opportunity to turn anything good for ___ into something bad. you want to play mean girl? fine by me. let’s fucking play. get this through your fucking head; i will never be yours but i will forever be ___'s."

...

jungkook gave you time.

partly because he was mad—mad that you gave hana your ticket so easily, mad at how quickly you folded like you always do. but mostly, because he knows how you are in moments like this. you don’t talk. you retreat, giving yourself space to breathe, to think. he hopes you’re using the time to clear your head, making space for him.

by the third week of awkward text exchanges—his dry "good night" met with your overly polite “you too"—and no more nightly facetime calls where he fell asleep to your voice, jungkook snaps.

he gets into his car and drives to your studio.

the late afternoon light spills through the frosted windows as he parks outside. his stomach twists at the sight of the closed sign hanging on the door, but the faint hum of a song playing inside tells him you’re there. jungkook knocks, loud and insistent.

for a moment, he worries you won’t answer.

that you’ll pretend not to hear him or let the music drown him out. but then, he hears the soft shuffle of slippers and the click of the lock.

when the door creaks open, you’re there.

cheeks flushed from the warmth of the studio, hair tied back messily, and streaks of dried clay smudged across your forearms. your apron is dusted in powdery beige, a damp hand towel clutched in your fingers.

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish.

his name on your lips is enough to tip him over the edge. stepping forward, he pushes the door shut behind him and closes the space between you in one fluid motion.

your back hits the sink behind you with a soft thud, the cool porcelain biting through the thin fabric of your apron. his hands find your waist first, firm and grounding, as though he’s anchoring himself to you.

“w-what are you—”

“i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters, his voice low and trembling, the words spilling out as though they’ve been trapped inside for years.

he shifts closer, one hand leaving your waist to cradle your jaw. his thumb grazes your cheek, where a smear of dried clay clings to your skin. you’re so warm, and so unbearably soft that it makes his chest ache. his other hand brushes against the edge of your apron, his knuckles bumping against the damp streaks of clay still drying on your fingers.

“jungkook—” you try again, but your voice falters when he leans in. his forehead brushes yours, and he’s so close you can see the strain in his jaw, the tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“i’ve had enough, ___,” he breathes, his voice trembling with something between desperation and exhaustion. “i’m tired of bending backwards to see you. i'm tired of people standing in front of you and i'm sick of you letting them. most of all, i’m tired of waiting for the right time. i—i’ve been in love with you since we were seven, and you know that.”

his hand leaves your cheek to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers trembling slightly as they linger there. “i haven’t done much to hide it, have i? i'm sorry. i've been a coward but... maybe i never did anything because i always knew how you felt about me too.”

your hands tighten on the towel, the wet clay squelching under your fingers. you glance down, unable to meet his gaze, but he doesn’t let you escape.

“look at me,” he pleads softly, tilting your chin upward until your eyes lock with his. the raw intensity in his stare steals the air from your lungs.

“please, ___... i'm fucking begging to you see me through this,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he leans his forehead against yours again. “i'm begging you to take my heart and mold it yours.”

and that’s exactly what you do.

your hands tremble, damp with clay and nerves, as you reach for him. you cradle his jaw gently, your thumbs brushing over the faint stubble along his cheeks.

then you kiss him.

jungkook freezes at first, his breath hitching in surprise, but it takes only a heartbeat before he softens. his lips move against yours, slow and deep, like he’s memorizing every second of this moment.

he’s hesitant—his hands stay planted on your waist, his grip cautious, almost shy. but when you sigh against him, his restraint snaps. his fingers curl into the fabric of your apron as he steps closer, pressing his body firmly against yours.

he bends his knees slightly, his arms sliding down to wrap around your thighs. with a quiet grunt, he lifts you effortlessly, settling you on the edge of the sink. your legs part instinctively, making room for him to step closer, his body slotting perfectly between yours.

you gasp softly as his hands find the back of your thighs, pulling you flush against him. your fingers slip into his hair, still streaked with clay, and he laughs quietly against your lips at the mess you're making.

his laugh fades quickly, replaced by a deep hum as he kisses you harder, with more certainty. the kiss grows messy, your breaths mingling and the faint taste of salt lingering between you.

when he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, and his eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. he doesn’t move far—his forehead rests against yours, his nose brushing yours as his fingers trace small circles on your thighs.

“so…” he whispers, his lips curling into a boyish grin as his gaze flicks to your apron, your hands still smeared with clay. “about that mug?”

#bts mini fic complete #jk scenario #jungkook confession #jungkook f2l #jungkook childhood friends to lovers #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario

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chleem · 6 months ago

Text

Not a big deal pt1

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

♡⸝⸝ (pretend drew is 24 in this one) | p2 | index | p3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You never thought this day would come.

The day you lose your virginity.

You’re in a frat house party miles away from your home, kissing an attractive stranger. Not your ideal way of losing your virginity, but at least you were doing it with an attractive guy.

His name’s Drew. Yeah. That’s the only thing you know about him.

And also that he’s a great kisser.

He’s also the second guy you’ve ever made out with.

You try kissing him with the same pace he is, but that just makes him pull away, looking down at you with hooded eyes and parted lips. “Slow…just relax,” he whispers, and you nod, making him smile.

You feel his smile against your lips, and you actually listen, slowing down and kissing him at your own pace. You tilt your head back into the pillow, and Drew takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper.

His hands go under your skirt, massaging your bare thigh. His lips move down your neck, kissing your collarbone and cleavage.

“Drew…” you moan softly, hands tangled into his hair.

He pulls away from you, and you immediately miss the warmth of him. But he pulls his shirt off, and your eyes are blessed with the sight of his upper body. You also don’t miss how erected he is. “Your…shirt,” his eyes move to your chest.

You sit up slightly, and reluctantly pull your top & bra off. Now you feel really, self-conscious. It’s your first time being naked in front of someone, and it felt…unnatural. Is he…going to judge you for your chest size? Or the freckles on around your chest area?

“Beautiful,” he whispers, which surprises you. You feel your entire body going an entire degree hotter than it already was. He then chuckles. “Beautiful,” he repeats again, before leaning in and kissing you.

You smile against his lips, and lean back into the pillow. Your wrap your arms around his neck as he moves down your chest, and starts kissing around your breast.

He leaves wet kisses around on both of your breasts, unwrapping and wrapping his mouth around each. Your soft moans drives him to suck on your nipples harder, giving each the right amount of attention.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, when he’s done. He kisses down your stomach, stopping right above your skirt. You look down to meet his hooded eyes, a small trail of drool on the corner of his lips. You shyly smile, knowing you got this insanely attractive man on top of you, making you feel good. “Hey,” you breathe out.

“Hey,” he smiles softly too, his fingers playing with the ribbon on your underwear. He then looks down at your skirt, and pulls the underwear off. Cold air hits your pussy, but you like it. “I wanna fuck you in this skirt.”

Shit. Then he palms your pussy, causing you to arch your back. His free hand pins you back down, as he spreads your legs for him. “You’re soaking wet already.”

“Drew…” you softly say, wrapping your hand around his, the one around your waist. You want him to fuck you. Like, right now. You didn’t care if he found you weird for getting wet just from kissing; you just want him.

He lowers his head between your legs, and you feel his hot breath hit your pussy. Swear, you feel like an orgasm is near. “Lemme eat you first,” he says, kissing your inner thigh. Then, he presses his tongue flat against your pussy.

“Fuck,” you moan, your hands tugging at his hair. You feel him chuckle lightly, before he starts devouring you. Drew’s tongue was good. He’s eating your pussy, as if it’s his last meal on earth. Maybe you’ll cum just on his tongue alone.

You feel two of his fingers entering you, and you gasp loudly. It feels good, and really tight. It reminds you again that it’s your first time. Drew plants a kiss on your inner thigh, his fingers moving slowly.

“You’re…really tight,” he breathes out, and you look down at him, between your legs. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, the corner of his lips slightly curled up. “This…you’re not a virgin, are you?”

That comment catches you off-guard. Should you…lie? Tell the truth? Shit. Is he gonna…back out once he knows you’re a virgin? So, you lie. “Been a long time,” you breathe out, his fingers still in you.

He chuckles, kissing your jawline. “Sure,” he sucks on your collarbone, his fingers starting to busy themselves by thrusting into your hole.

“Shit,” you curse, breathing heavily. He thrusts his fingers deep into you, stretching you out for him. He makes sure to go deep-deep with his fingers, and you’re pretty sure you’re at your limit.

He groans at how tight you are, moving back down between your legs. He then plants soft kisses at your pussy, his fingers slowing down. Fuck. You want him to keep going. “Drew…I, I want you,” you voice out, even though the air was practically knocked out your lungs.

“All yours, babe.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, and gets off the bed. He strips out of his pants and underwear, his erected dick standing tall and proud. Fuck. He’s big. You’re not sure you can take it.

Drew walks to the nightstand, opening each drawer. He gets lucky in the last drawer, finding a box of condoms. He quickly checks the expiration date, before joining you on the bed yet again. You sit up, watching in anticipation, as he tears the pack open and wraps it around his erection.

Shit. This was really happening.; You're about to lose your virginity.

You gulp once he’s done, wondering how he’s going to fully fit inside of you. “Drew, that’s-“

“You’ll fit,” he cuts you off, softness in his voice. He pecks your lips, intertwining his fingers with yours, pinning you back down to the mattress. “You’ll fit, and it’ll feel good.”

You nod, trusting a total stranger.

You watch him adjust his dick to your hole, but only he’ll see since the skirt covers your view. But you feel his tip against the entrance, and you want to squeeze your thighs together.

“Fucking beautiful,” he compliments, before looking up at you. Butterflies are flying crazy in your stomach.

He then sticks himself in, and you moan loudly. “Shit,” he kisses your jaw, and you thought that was his whole thing, but then he pushes deeper, his entire dick now nested inside you.

“Fuck!” You gasp, your free hand scratching Drew’s back. This… this is a completely different feeling compared to just his fingers. It’s a hundred times more thick and…and rough. You’re breathing heavily, and so is Drew, his hot breath fanning your forehead.

He then moves out, and then thrusts in. You moan, your grip on Drew tight. “Too much?” You hear teasing in his voice, and you look up at him. Sure enough, a small smirk is on his lips.

You pull him down, and you kiss him as a reply. He kisses you back, and thrusts into you once again. This time, he thrusts harder, making you gasp into his mouth. “I don’t think… I want to go slow on you,” he whispers against your lips.

Fuckkk. Does he know how hot he is?

“Go ahead,” you breathe out, and his hand squeezes yours tightly after hearing that. His smile is all smitten, kind of matching yours.

He thrusts into you roughly, and picks up the pace after each one. Your moans are his motivation to keep going, as well as the sound of skin-slapping in the room. The kisses that he trails along your body just serves as a bigger help to your orgasm.

He even takes one of your legs and hoists it upwards, to get deeper into you. He hits a spot that takes your satisfaction levels to a new ground, pretty sure that he’s hit your g-spot. “Drew…” you moan, the pleasure fogging your mind up. “You… you’re…”

“Mmh?” He groans, biting down on his lip.

“I think I’m…fuck,” words are hard to form now.

Was sex suppose to feel this good? Or is it just Drew that makes it feel like you’re in heaven? Either way, it feels so fucking good.

And with your orgasm near, you’re a bit disappointed that this was ending. Who knows when you’ll find a guy who’ll have sex with you again, or if you’ll ever see this sexy guy again. “I’m close,” you finally say, looking at Drew with hooded eyes.

“Cum on my dick, babe.”

He kisses your forehead, cheeks, jawline while giving you a few more thrusts. And when he gives you a sloppy kiss, the knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum all over his dick, just like he told you to.

Drew continues to thrust into you, but slower this time, as he helps himself to his own orgasm. Your body goes limp, so you just watch as he uses you to cum. He moans in your ear when he finally cums, his moan like music to your ears.

He rests his forehead against yours, the both of you breathing heavily.

Drew’s the first one to talk. “Told you you’ll fit.”

“Yeah. And… and it was great.”

Shit. As soon as those words leave your mouth, you regret it. Who says that after sex? ‘It was great’. Are you some kind of psycho? Oh my gosh. This guy is probably rethinking all his life decisions, and hoping he never even kissed you. You’re such a stupid-

“Sensational,” he cuts off your thoughts. “It was sensational.”

You stare at him with doe eyes. What? You couldn’t help it; you burst out in laughter. His word choice is funny. He’s funny. And cute. And handsome.

He chuckles, probably from hearing your laugh. “Just saying.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. You can’t believe that you just lost your virginity to this guy. This…guy who uses the word ‘sensational’ to describe the sex. This guy who’s insanely handsome with a perfect body. This guy…who, who’s only looking for a hook-up.

This guy, who you’ll never see again.

And in this moment, you told yourself, that you'll never make yourself forget about this man.

——

You hate the jersey Luke forced you to wear.

You didn’t even want to come to this boring basketball game, totally fine with staying at home. But, your parents insisted, since it was the ‘final championship game for regional colleges’. Yeah. Your horrible brother was able to make it to the championship game, and if he won this round, his college student debts would be payed off, or something like that.

Well, Luke was stressed out enough to not bother you this entire morning, except making you wear his jersey.

You don’t hate your brother; he’s just very annoying. You grew up with him always teasing you, and never letting you know peace.

“Did you even wear pants underneath?”

You roll your eyes, lifting your jersey to show the shorts below. “Of course not,” you reply, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. You don’t know why your parents left you alone with Luke, when you didn’t even want to be here at all.

The commentator for the game announces there to be ten minutes left until the game starts. You look around, and the opposite team is not even out of the locker rooms. Only your brother’s team seen practicing or chilling by the side. Weird.

“Who are you guys competing against?” You ask, signaling Luke to scoot over on the chair.

He does; and you sit down beside him, looking onto the court with his teammates practicing. “Um, WCU.”

Why does that college sound very familiar? “They’re…not here yet,” you comment the obvious.

“Fuckers…trust me, y/n, they’re going to lose,” Luke cockily says, leaning forward.

You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your arms as you turn to your brother. “You score an average of ten points per game.”

“Thirty points. Per game. No wonder you’re so stupid,” he corrects you, and you roll your eyes. You knew your brother was good at basketball, just his attitude cancels out all his good parts. “Hey, I’m not captain for nothing.”

“Wow, so impressive,” you mockingly say, and he slaps your knee. You flinch in pain, even though he only slapped lightly. “Ouch! I’m telling mom.”

“So mature,” Luke rolls his eyes, turning to the court.

The commentator then asks your brother’s team to gather up front, to shake hands with the opposite team. Some kind of mannerism to show before the game. Problem is, WCU players haven’t even come out of the locker rooms.

“They think they’re the guests, so they can wait till the last fucking minute,” Luke suddenly complains to you. “Tell you what, their cheeky asses are going to lose so badly-“

“Hey, maybe something happened back there,” you say on purpose, cutting your brother off. He’s rude and egoistic, and you’re embarrassed to admit that you’re related to him. He gives you a ‘what the fuck’ look, and you just shrug. “Who knows.”

“You’re so fucking naive, it’s cute,” he…insults you? Is that an insult? Whatever. He stands up, before turning to face you while stretching. “Watch me beat their asses, y/n. I swear, you’ll see me holding the MVP cup-“

“Let’s welcome… the Western Carolina university! Going against Eastern Carolina university! For the regional basketball championship!” The commentator interrupts, and music starts to play loudly.

You look over at the court entrance, that’s connected to the locker rooms.

The players come out in single file, their supporters cheering loudly for them. Their uniforms are white, with red & yellow stripes. All of them are tall (of course) and all have this…dominating aura around them.

You look at each one of them as they walk onto the court, facing the crowd and waving at familiar faces. You scan their faces, playing a game of smash or pass in your head.

But when your eyes land on the last one to come in, you couldn’t believe it.

No fucking way. It was Drew. The Drew that you lost your virginity to, in a frat party at West Carolina. The frat party that your friend convinced you was worth the five hour drive. The frat party, where afterwards, you left without asking for Drew’s number (to be fair, before sex, you both agreed to it being a one-night stand).

You rub your eyes, hoping you got the wrong person. Nope. It was Drew. Standing there, hands behind his back, emotionless as his eyes scans the crowd. Wearing the basketball team uniform, a bandana keeping his hair back. His face, the same handsome features you stared at when being fucked by him.

“Look at them, a bunch of losers, right?” Luke sits down beside you, not even trying to lower his volume.

Oh fuck. “Hey, you alright?” Luke suddenly asks, making you peel your eyes away from Drew. Is it written all over your face that you fucked Drew?

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You smile nervously. Your brother would freak out if he found out that you slept with his rival. Wait, he would freak out that you even lost your virginity in the first place. “why…you should go join your team.”

“But you seem-“

“Captain of the Eastern Carolina university team, please make your way to the court!” The commentator announces.

“That’s you!” You say nervously, patting your brother’s back.

He looks at you, with worried brows and confused eyes. “Okay…” he gets up, scratching his hair. He gets ready to join them, but then turns back to you again. Luke looks at you mischievously, before saying, “You didn’t give me a good luck kiss yet.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust, glancing at Drew. Oh shit. He’s staring at you! Does he recognize you? Of course he does, otherwise he wouldn’t be staring. “Fuck off, Luke,” you embarrassingly say, knowing everyone is waiting for him.

“C’mon, lil sis,” he pokes his cheek.

Fuck. Why can’t he ever just fuck off? You roll your eyes, before standing up and giving your brother a peck on the cheek. Why does he always want to embarrass you? Why is he such a pain in the ass?

“Thank you. Although, I never needed luck,” he grins, before running to join his team. You wanna kick him in the balls so hard right now.

You turn back to Drew, who’s still staring at you. His brows are furrowed, lips in a frown, and head tilted slightly to the side.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is so awkward and embarrassing. You want to disappear into the floor right now.

You get up and look away from him, walking to the seats behind. Your parents wave at you, and you just smile awkwardly as you walk up the steps.

Please, let this game end quickly.

——

Whenever Drew scored a point, he would look over at you with a small smirk on his face. Which was, almost always. He must’ve scored over a half for his team (you were exaggerating, but he did consistently score).

And as for your brother, they were behind. Behind by more than twenty points, and it was the last quarter. It was humiliating, and stress was written all over Luke’s face. You’ve never heard your brother yell at his teammates as much as right now, or yell in such a harsh manner.

The last minute of the game. ECU is definitely losing the championship.

Some of the crowd continues to cheer, and most definitely, the ECU students are bowing. Either at WSU or their school, you’re not so sure anymore.

Thirty seconds left. You watch as a team member on court starts cheering, wanting Drew to go along with him. But Drew ignores him, saying something serious to him. He listens, and wipes the smile off his face.

Twenty seconds left. Your brother got the ball. A teammate nearby waves to him, wanting to get his attention to pass the ball to him. Luke ignores him; traveling through the court; he wants to score all by himself, just to boost his ego.

Ten seconds left. Drew defends against Luke, getting close and blocking his way of scoring.

Five seconds left. Luke jumps at the same time Drew does, and Drew manages to block his ball away, the ball knocked out of your brother’s hands.

To you, it all happens in slow motion.

Still in mid-air, your brother pushes Drew, hard. He falls, missing the basketball hoop-pole only by a few centimeters, landing on the hard floor. Shit.

The bell rings, and the crowd around you all stand up, cheering loudly. Confetti also dropped, further making it hard to see. Fuck.

“Your brother tried his best,” your mom says, standing up and clapping.

You furrow your eyebrows at her, standing up beside her. “What? He got a lot of penalties, yelled at the referee, and pushed Drew. He did not play well.”

“Who’s Drew?” Your mom asks, turning to you confusingly.

Your eyes widen, and you turn away to the court. Shit. “I said crew, mom. He pushed one of the crew from the other team,” you lie. You get to get a glimpse of Drew, who gets up with the help of his teammates. He's rubbing his lower back, pain on his face. Fuck. That fall must’ve hurt. What was your brother thinking?

You watch as the two teams are called to shake hands again, your brother and Drew, standing close to each other. Luke, having a cocky smile on his face, says something to him. Drew says something back, before holding his hand out. Your brother shakes it, his smile now gone, and his expression turned mean.

What did they say to each other?

After everyone finished shaking hands, ECU went off the court, and WCU was cheering with each other. Luke looked like he wanted to murder someone.

Someone in a suit presents the championship trophy, handing it to Drew, who takes it with a proud smile on his face. Cute.

Another trophy comes, and the commentator introduces it as the MVP award. It’s handed to Drew too. But he hands the championship trophy to someone beside him, who immediately raises it up high in triumph.

Then, you make eye contact with Drew. He’s smiling at you, and he holds the trophy near his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck, butterflies are forming in your stomach right now.

But the eye contact breaks when his teammates pull him by wrapping an arm around his neck, urging him to celebrate. You watch as he laughs at something they say, reminding you of that night, when he chuckled after hearing you laugh.

Fuck. The urge to run down here and talk to him is beating loudly in your mind.

But you don't. You were nobody to him; just someone he fucked on a random Friday night.

Same goes for you; just someone you lost your virginity to. No big deal. Not something really important. Just...not a big deal, right?

-------------------------------

word count: 3.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing this! (ignore my mistakes plsss) there will be a part two, so look forward to it <3 and these next two months i will be very happy, since obx s4 is out (won't stop smiling).

elevator | other | index | pt2 | pt3

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #fiction #mini series #strangers to lovers #drew starkey x you #smut #fluff #angst #part one

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