#my roommates shit is all over the kitchen table all over the coffee table. all over the whole couch and the living room chair.

[bsotted]

Oh shit the vibe is not cute 🤪

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Got Jealous Of His Twin Brother”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, slight Yuuji x Reader but we all know who you’re really here for, Sukuna is down bad, narration is mostly from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.80k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna is a fucking geinus.

His plan is full proof. His brothers put him in charge of buying the tickets for some stupid ass movie Yuuji wants to go see, and you always write your work schedule down on the calendar taped to the fridge. Sure, yeah, maybe he had to call out sick for today because this was the only day that Choso had work and you didn’t, but now he knows that his plan will fall perfectly into place. Yuuji is already at the apartment, you’ll come downstairs eventually, and Yuuji will invite you to come to the movie in Choso’s place, making it look like a total coincidence and definitely not something he’s been meticulously planning all week.

Could he have just, I don’t know, asked you to go on a date with him? Of course not, that’s fucking ridiculous. This makes so much more sense.

I mean, you absolutely loved The Human Centipede, definitely weren’t covering your eyes in terror and disgust when he showed it to you, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll just adore Human Earthworm. Hah! What a fuckin’ joke, you’ll be dragging Sukuna out of the theatre within five minutes and begging him to take you out somewhere else without his annoying twin brother.

It’s perfect.

Him and Yuuji are lounging on opposite ends of the couch while Yuuji is going on and on about an Elden Ring boss he can’t beat. Sukuna has his boots propped up on the coffee table and his arms resting behind his head as he half listens to his brother, and more so keeps an ear out for your footsteps upstairs.

“I was gonna try and beat her without summons but she’s kicking my ass, how many tries did it take you?”

“One.”

“Ugh!” Yuuji flops backwards on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it over his face, his defeated whines muffled through the plush cotton, “She’s so impossible!”

Footsteps, finally. As you walk into the living room Yuuji uncovers his face, and you stop dead in your tracks, pointing at him, and then his brother, back and forth a few times before rubbing your eyes.

“Holy shit, there’s two of you?”

Oh yeah, I never mentioned my family huh?

Sukuna just gives you a smug smirk, “Three, but the emo one couldn’t make it.”

Yuuji perks up, jolting upright on the couch and giving you a bright smile, “Hi! I’m the normal one!”

You pull a chair out from the kitchen table, plopping yourself down into the wooden seat, “I think I’m gonna faint.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Sukuna is… a fucking idiot.

He knew his brother had a bubbly personality and could get along with literally anyone, but how was he supposed to know that you two would hit it off so well? Yuuji is pulling out all the stops, holding the door open for you, offering to pay for your popcorn, god it’s like he’s trying to get on Sukuna’s nerves.

Granted, it’s not like Sukuna told him that he likes you, but I mean for fucks sake that’s his twin brother! Shouldn’t he have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing?

That pink haired fucker has you wrapped around his little finger, you’re looking at him with googly eyes and cheesing like it’s fucking picture day. Ridiculous. Why don’t you ever smile like that for him? He’s funny!

I’m never letting him in the apartment again.

The three of you walk up to the top row of the nearly empty theater, Sukuna making sure to sit right between you and Yuuji. Previews are rolling on the screen as Sukuna is trying his damndest to hide the scowl on his face, his large arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the way the large screen reflects different colors into your eyes. He didn’t really think this far ahead, he’s got you next to him at the movies but… what now? He’s mentally kicking himself enough as it is for not considering his overly charismatic brother, and now he’s realizing that he doesn’t even know what his own intentions are.

Did he just want to take you somewhere? Is he trying to sleep with you? Does he want to be… romantic with you?

God, what has he become? He’s supposed to be the tough fucking scary guy and he’s not only getting shown up by his nerdy brother, but also getting nervous at the thought of making a move on you.

Yuuji flings popcorn in your direction, making you squeal out a giggle as it gently lands in your hair. Sukuna groans, hardly paying attention as he’s deep in thought, running his finger through your hair and flicking the popcorn away. He’s so consumed in his own head that he completely misses the blush that tints your cheeks at his tender touch.

Should I have even bothered with this? I feel like staying at the house would’ve been better at this point.

A piece of popcorn flies into his eye.

“Ugh,” This is so stupid, Sukuna rubs his eyelid with his thumb, “Watch it, brat.”

Yuuji tosses his hands up defensively and you giggle again, leaning over the armrest and placing your pointer finger on Sukuna’s cheek, tilting his face to turn towards you. Have your eyes always been that bright?

“Ooh, bullseye.” He can feel your breath fanning on his face, you’re so close, but just as abruptly as you leaned in, you lean back into your seat. God, he wants more than anything to tell you to come back, but the words wouldn’t be able to escape his lips if he tried. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is glare down at you and make you shift awkwardly under his gaze, mumbling out a quick apology.

Fuck. I think I scared them.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

From what you’ve been able to gather, this movie is weird. Is it horror or romance? You’ve been having trouble paying attention, far too distracted by Yuuji leaning over the very annoyed looking Sukuna to excitedly whisper tidbits about the movie to you. But every time you look over to Yuuji your eyes can’t help but wander to Sukuna’s profile, the flashing lights of the large screen illuminating his tattooed skin, his bottom lip tutting out to blow the loose strand of his pink hair resting on his brow out of his eyes-

Ah dammit, I’m doing it again.

You’re so confused. Sukuna has been giving you mixed signals all night, sweetly running his fingers through your hair one moment, then glowering at you like he wants you dead the next. He’s so unpredictable, and you’ve been so distracted by him all evening that you’ve hardly been able to pay any attention to poor Yuuji, giving him bright smiles and fake laughs while your mind is completely consumed with Sukuna.

He’s been so grumpy the entire evening, you’ve been feeling like he’s… disappointed? Is he mad his other brother couldn’t come? Is he mad that you took the emo one’s place? Would he rather somebody else have gone to the movie with him? It was Yuuji’s idea for you to tag along, so it’s safe to assume that if Sukuna wanted you here he would have just invited you, right?

But then every now and again his eyes flicker to you, watching. Why is he looking at you like that? With his gaze so uncharacteristically soft, scanning your face like he’s searching for something, from the corner of your eye you can catch him looking at your lips.

Is there something on my face?

You’re ripped from your thoughts as a blood curdling scream erupts from the speakers, making you jump in your seat. You catch the tiniest glimpse of a smirk creeping on the corner of Sukuna’s lips as he sits like a rock, completely unbothered as per usual. You gently kick his foot under the seat, and he presses his large boot onto the top of your sneaker, pinning your shoe under his and keeping your foot locked in place under the sole of his steel toe boot.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting out a frustrated huff at him that only makes his grin grow wider, his face still pointed towards the large screen as he flashes his canines at you. He props his elbow on the armrest between you, resting his chin on the ball of his palm as he peers down at you with a smug grin.

“You ready to get out of here yet?”

Cocky fucker, I swear he gets off on making me mad.

“No.” You snap back defensively.

Unbeknownst to you, his question was not rhetorical. But you’re in it now, determined to sit through this entire movie even if it kills you. You’re bothering him enough just by being here, the last thing you want to do is make him feel like he needs to leave.

His smirk shifts into a grimace as he taps his boot on top of your shoe. You slide your sneaker away but he loops his calf around yours and pulls your leg towards him, gently kicking your foot. If you didn’t know better you’d almost think he was… trying to play footsies with you? You’re not really sure what he’s trying to do, all you know is that he’s still leaning on the armrest between you and probably unintentionally pulling you closer by your leg.

Your arm brushes against his as you try to maneuver your elbow onto the armrest, quietly muttering to him “You’re hogging up all the space.”

He leans down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Tragic. Use the other one.”

You nudge his forearm with your elbow, “Just move your arm.”

He lets out a quiet “Tch” and raises his arm to rest over the back of your seat instead, “This better, brat?”

You nod your head as a blush creeps onto your cheeks, luckily hidden by the darkness in the room. When you relax back into your chair you can feel his arm pressing into the back of your neck and his fingers lightly graze against your shoulder. It feels… kinda comforting, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lean into his touch and your heart starts to pound at the thought.

You don’t dare to look at Sukuna, deciding to quietly enjoy the moment. Which is a real shame, because if you did look at him there’s a chance you’d catch the way he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with a face that looks almost as flustered as your own.

He might be enjoying this more than you are, and he might even be thinking that having to sit through this movie might not be so bad after all.

A/N: POV you and Sukuna are two idiots who are into each other but neither of you have the balls to do something about it. Also writing Sukuna’s POV for the narration was SO FUN!!! We love our delusional king who sees you god forbid smile at another person and immediately assumes you’re in love with them Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[writtenbymoonflower]

Heyoo! How are you dove? Can I request more roommate!poly!marauders x shy!reader pleasee! Your fics have a special place in my heart

roommate!marauders is my drug <3 thanks for requesting hunny! fem!reader x roommate!marauders

cw: thunderstorms, poor boundaries with roommates

659 words

You didn’t realize the sheer volume of the downpour outside until the chatter of your roommates in the sitting room couldn’t be discerned over the pounding of raindrops reverberating off your window panes. You weren’t complaining, though. You were cozied under a multitude of soft blankets and fluffy pillows, your reading lamp emanating a soft glow onto the pages of your book, the smell of rain wafting into your room. 

That was until your lights slowly flickered a few times, before shutting off completely, leaving you in pitch black darkness. This was shortly followed by a shrill scream, then a crash, making your drop your novel. You untangled yourself from your covers, setting your book back on the bed, before venturing out. You held your hands in front of you as you stumbled around in the dark. You felt around for your doorknob, swinging the door open. You didn’t make it far before you tumbled into a tall torso and lanky limbs. 

“Shit, dove! Sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Remus blindly reached a hand out in an attempt to steady both of you. 

“It’s okay! I think that only raccoons can see in these conditions.” You attempted to joke. He rewarded you with a small chuckle. 

“Are you okay, though? You didn’t fall or anything?” You could hear the worry laced in his tone. It made your heart weirdly warm to know that he was concerned for you. 

“No, I’m all good.” You reassured. “Are you okay? I heard a crash.” You stepped further into the living area, carefully watching your footing. Remus chuckled again. 

“You wanna tell her what happened, lads?” His tone filled with unusual mirth. You could vaguely make out the forms of the other two boys in the dark. You heard Sirius grumble, though it was James who spoke up, much more timidly than typical.

“Well uh- we didn’t expect for the lights to go out, you know? Pads got a little spooked and screamed.” You could feel Remus shaking beside you with nearly-silent laughter. “And uh- Sirius spooked me, I guess. And then I dropped a plate.” He trailed off. Remus was now laughing loudly at his friends’ expense, but you could tell that there was no malice given or received between the boys, with them also joining in. You weren’t laughing, though. You resisted the urge to flounder over to James and check him for injuries. 

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” 

“No we’re okay, babydoll. It’s in the kitchen, we’ll worry about it later. Come over here, though. You’re gonna trip.” Sirius’ hand circled your arm gently, pulling you towards him and James. You weren’t sure what you were in risk of tripping over, but you let him maneuver you as he liked. You were startled by the sound of sparking, making you jump back into Sirius’ chest. 

“Sorry, lovely. Candles.” James set the soft, flickering light onto the coffee table. Remus appeared right beside you again. 

“You’re all jumpy, dove. Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus cooed as James lit another candle. You jumped again as another hand grazed your back. 

“Y-yeah.” The dark was very unsettling. Purple light flashed through the house, quickly followed by a loud boom! 

“EEK!” You weren’t the one who made the sound, but you were pulled onto the settee, tumbling on top of Sirius’ frame, face landing in his inky curls. 

“Christ, Pads.” James flopped down next to your tangled forms. He pulled you off to settle you between him and the high-strung boy. “You’re gonna kill her before the lease is up.” Another wave of thunder clapped through the house, this time Sirius only flinched. James pulled you closer to him in response. 

“Oi! I can’t help it. You know storms make me flighty.” He argued, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you back against him. “It’s okay though, I’ve got this dolly to keep me safe.”

[beauty-brains-braun]

Blackout

18+ Minors DNI

A power outage leaves you alone with your best friend's roommate. You don't mean to use it as an opportunity to ask Megumi Fushiguru why he hates you, it just slips out. You really don't expect his answer.

warnings/tags:  Smut, PWP, a little bit of praise-kink, aged-up characters, penis in vagina sex

Reader has a vagina, otherwise is non-descript

You and Megumi were alone when the power went out. You'd been in his and Yuji's shared apartment, waiting for the other man to bring you the house keys you definitely sort-of needed to get into your own apartment. You'd made it all of the way home when you realized he'd snatched the wrong set off the table when you were all having drinks earlier. Only when the key wouldn’t fit in your lock did you realize the almost matching keychains you and Yuji had gotten hadn't been the best idea. 

Of course you then walked all of the way here only to find out Yuji had been called to exorcize a curse. You'd barely been here a minute when the outage happened. Now you were in the dark with a man who didn't seem to be able to stand you. This was not your night.

"Perfect" you muttered.

"What?" Megumi asked.

"Nothing." You told him. You took a couple of steps forward and ran right into him. "Shit, sorry!" You felt his hands on your arms as he reached out to steady you on instinct. 

He didn't say anything, just sort of grunted and moved around you. His phone flashlight turned on a few seconds later in the kitchen area and you used the light to navigate to the couch. If you were sitting, you figured you wouldn't be able to run into anything. 

He lit a candle and brought it over to the coffee table. “My phone’s almost dead, better conserve the battery.”

Yours was dead. That’s why you had made it all of the way here before you found out Yuji wasn’t even at home. You fought back a groan, letting your head drop back onto the couch behind you. You heard a clunk and looked up to find Megumi setting a bottle of wine and two glasses in front of you. Yes please.

You accepted a glass with gratitude as Megumi sat on the couch next to you and an awkward silence immediately enveloped you both.

It had been like this with you and Megumi for as long as you could remember. You’d tried befriending him the way you had Yuji and Nobara when you first transferred to Jujutsu High School but he would never stay in the same room with you long enough, always suddenly finding somewhere else he needed to be. On the occasions you were stuck together, you’d tried getting to know him but he would only give one worded answers and refuse to look at you. It quickly became more frustrating than it was worth and you gave up. All of this was made worse by how insanely attractive you found him, even now. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where he’d grabbed you when you bumped into him earlier but you were doing your best to ignore that. 

Yuji had been bugging you lately to try again. Said that this was just how Megumi was, and to an extent you knew that was true, the man was pretty quiet. But he wasn’t quite like this with anyone else and you didn’t have the patience you used to have to just keep trying and trying. 

“How did that Special Grade mission go last weekend?”

You almost dropped your wine glass, had he just asked you a question? You stared at him for a second too long before answering. “Uhm, it was good.” You drained the rest of the wine in your glass. “Pretty tough but not the worst one I’ve fault.”

He nodded and leaned forwards to refill your glass. You could see his eyelashes even in this dim lighting and had to make yourself look away. “What about you? Anything interesting lately?”

“Same old, same old. It's good that it’s been quiet, I guess. It’s just sort of..” Megumi trailed off.  

“Boring.” You finished his thought.

“I feel awful saying that, but yeah.”

The awkward silence was back almost immediately. You racked your  brain desperately for something to talk about. For anything to say other than “Why don’t you like me?”

“What?”

Holy shit you did not say it out loud. You looked over to see Megumi staring, sitting so still he could have been frozen. You had said out loud. What was wrong with you? You felt your skin heating from embarrassment but fuck it. It was out there, might as well commit.

“You’ve always avoided me, Fushiguru. Tonight is probably the most you’ve ever said to me in all of the years we’ve known each other. So yeah, you obviously don’t like me, I just have never known why.” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Megumi drain his glass of wine and put the empty glass on the coffee table before answering. 

“You think I don’t like you?” he clarified.

“Obviously.”

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” You hadn’t expected him to deny it. He wasn’t really the type of guy who would lie to spare anyone’s feelings.

“You’re wrong.” He said again, firmly.

“You can barely stand to be in the same room with me.” You pointed out incredulously. 

Megumi sighed but didn’t deny it. Instead he shifted closer to you. “It’s not because I don’t like you, though.”

You blinked at him, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It wouldn’t to you I guess.” He sighed again and moved closer to you again, raising himself so one knee dug into the couch and he towered over you a little. “You and Yuju got close fast. Instantly almost. It seemed pretty obvious to me that you would be end-game. That it was only a matter of time for you to get together and live out your happily ever afters in each other’s arms.”

You blink again at the bitterness in his voice, not understanding what one thing had to do with the other. “Yuji’s my best friend, I’ve never wanted anything more and neither has he.”

“Well, five years later, it’s definitely started to seem that that’s the case, but I’ve always waited for the other shoe to drop. Afraid if I was too close to you, I would break.”

He was even closer now, leaning down into your space, his gorgeous eyes reflecting the light from the candle. You swallowed hard. “Break?” you asked.

“Break.” He confirmed. And he did.

Megumi’s mouth met your own, gently at first until he felt you kiss him back. Until he felt you melt into him. Then he deepened the kiss, his hands cradling the back of your head. 

You felt his tongue touch your lips and you opened for him, mind reeling in shock. Megumi Fushiguru didn’t hate you. He more than didn’t hate you, he was kissing you! He pressed against you until you lay back on the couch and followed you down, mouth moving down to your neck. 

Everywhere his mouth touched felt like it was on fire and you felt an ache deep in your core. You shifted, raising a knee so he fit against you perfectly. His cock was pressed against you and another ache coursed through you when you realized how hard he was for you. 

He pulled away from you suddenly and you let out a whine of protest. 

“Tell me to stop” he said, searching your face for any hint that that was what you wanted. 

“Don't you dare” you said breathlessly, pulling him back down to kiss you again. You felt him smile against your mouth and then his fingers were against your skin, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. You heard each one hit the floor somewhere across the room but forgot about them the moment Megumi’s mouth was on one nipple, his fingers tugging at the other until you were a dripping, quivering mess. 

“Please” left your mouth before you even realized you said it and his eyes met your own in question. “Please fuck me” you begged, watching his gaze darken.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed of tasting you but I’m not going to make it if you beg.”

“Later. Tomorrow, I don’t care, I need you inside me.” And you did. You’d never needed anything more, you’d never felt more empty. It felt like there was a drum beating deep inside you. You struggled to remove his pants and he moved to help you. Your hand curled around his cock when it sprang free and he let loose a his of pleasure. Moving just enough to remove your own pants while you pumped him in your hand. 

He pushed one of his long fingers inside you and you gasped at the feeling. You had always been a little too interested in Megum’s hands and as he added a second finger, you realized it was for good reason. You were seeing stars from this alone.  Tender kisses trailed your collarbone and you whined when he pulled his fingers from you. 

“Shhhh” He soothed you and seconds later you felt his tip against you, gathering your wetness, before he slowly, too slowly maybe, started to push into you.

“Fuck” you breathed as he bottomed out inside you. The stretch of him almost burned but it still felt good. Felt right. He’d stopped, giving you time to adjust to his size and you groaned.

“Megumi, please. Please move.” You begged, not even feeling embarrassed at the smirk that pulled at his mouth. 

“You beg so nicely��. He pulled out and thrust back in suddenly. 

You tightened your legs around him as if you could keep him inside you forever. He pulled almost all of the way back out and thrust back in again, his mouth meeting yours when you moaned. He set a steady rhythm fucking into you and out of you, drinking in the sounds of praise falling from your lips. You felt something coiling tight in your lower stomach, so tight you knew it would snap soon.

“You feel so good. I couldn’t have imagined you’d feel this perfect” Megumi said in your ear. He changed the angle of his hips causing his cock to hit that one spot deep inside that made you see stars. He thrust in again and you were lost. That something deep inside you that had been winding up snapped and you came, crying out his name.

Megumi’s fingers dug harder into your thighs but he didn’t stop. He kept fucking you through your orgasm even as you tightened around him and he had to fight not to follow you just yet. 

He leaned in to kiss you and muttered “good girl” against your lips, making your pussy clench and heart flutter. He pulled out and flipped you over quickly before thrusting back in.

A cry of pleasure left you as the new position allowed him to fuck you even deeper than before. You lost yourself in him, in the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you, in the small sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth, in the feeling of his skin on yours. 

He pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest and he could kiss your neck. You could feel his thrusts becoming more erratic and knew he must be close. He wasn’t the only one. 

Megumi’s fingers found your clit and rubbed circles until you were coming again, thankful Megumi’s other arm was still keeping you upright because you never would have managed it on your own. You hear him curse and suddenly he’s pulling out of you and you feel his release splatter across your ass and thighs.

The room is so silent without the constant hum of electricity that usually surrounds you so the sounds of you trying to catch your breath seem so much louder than normal.

“You okay?” Megumi’s voice was so quiet you looked over at him, the dim light of the candle reflecting off his eyes. “Was that too much?”

A huff of surprised amusement left you. He was nervous. He fucked you like thatt and now he was nervous. “Too much?” You asked. “That was amazing.” His mouth curved up in a small smile and he leaned in to kiss you, the movement so tentative compared to his actions from earlier. You leaned into him, kissing him back encouragingly. 

A sound from outside the door made you both tense and he jerked away, blowing the candle out seconds before the door opened. You both sat frozen as Yuji entered the apartment, dropping something to the floor and calling your name on his way in. 

You moved slowly, reaching for your clothes in the dark. Your fingers closed around the fabric you recognized as your shirt and you feel relief course through you as you pull it closer. Naturally that was the moment the power kicked back on. Light flooded the apartment suddenly, almost blinding you. A screech left Yuji’s mouth and you winced, rushing to pull your shirt on.

“Oh my god!” He yelled, hands flying up to cover his eyes. “Oh. My. God. Finally! But I mean, on the couch?!” 

“Stop yelling.” Megumi groaned, pulling up his pants, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment in a way you couldn’t help but find adorable even as you prayed for the ground to open up and swallow you.

“You’re buying us a new couch, Fushiguru!” Yuji shouted, pointing accusingly in the other man’s direction, with his eyes still squeezed shut.

“Stop yelling!”

“Just wait until I tell Kugasaki! She’d almost given up. I am serious about the couch by the-” a pillow from the couch hit him hard in the face, cutting him off and knocking him on his ass.  

Megumi looked over at you in surprise and you smiled at him and shrugged. “He’ll go all night if someone doesn’t shut him up.”

He smiled back at you and stepped closer, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Wait, was that one of your sex pillows? Gross!”

[cherryflavoured7777]

Do you miss me, dear? [h.c]

Summary: Stuck at a graduation party, surrounded by memories of your past relationship and your own loneliness, your night takes an unexpected turn when you find yourself dialing the number of the one person you vowed you wouldn't contact.

Pairing: College!Hazel x College!Fem!Reader 

Contains: smut 18+ only, explicit language, drinking, smoking, mutual pining, slightly toxic reader I think, fingering (r! receiving), oral(r! receiving), break-up/make-up sex, idiots in love, this one gets straight-up MUSHY I’m not gonna lie

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: I just need to say I am deeply obsessed with all of you who interacted with either of my last two fics. reading your comments/ replies seriously makes me SO happy you have no idea. Got me giggling and shit fr! I don’t know why my writing always ends up including partying and drinking but maybe it’s because I just graduated college and am having an existential post-grad crisis. Anyway 💀I hope you enjoy and thank you again for reading!!!

Also, this is inspired by this song by one of my favourite bands:  

“I don’t know what I’m still doing here.” You say out loud to yourself, standing up from the musty green couch you were sitting on. An empty beer bottle falls from the cushion onto the ground, shattering into pieces beside your foot. 

This party sucked. Pushing your way through the crowded, stuffy kitchen, you couldn't shake off the feeling of suffocation. Tipsy couples entangled in each other's arms seemed to be everywhere, a painful reminder of what you once had and lost. The memories of being that annoying person in love at a party flooded back, amplifying the ache of your loneliness.

The thumping music in your ears only made your head pound harder. Desperate for a breath of fresh air, you stumbled toward the door, ignoring the intoxicated laughter and clinking glasses that filled the air. As you stepped outside, the cool night breeze hit your face, offering a momentary rescue from the overwhelming atmosphere inside.

The darkness of the night sky above seemed to swallow you whole, but it felt strangely comforting. Leaning against the porch railing, you closed your eyes, trying to regain your composure. In the silence outside, you could hear distant laughter and the faint sound of music, muffled by the walls of the house.

You settled into a seat around a glass table, next to a guy you recognized from one of your classes. You exchanged a quick nod of acknowledgment before reaching into your purse, retrieving a box of cigarettes. Smoking was not a regular habit for you, but you reserved it for moments like these—after a few drinks and a growing sense of irritation. 

You lit the end of the cigarette, watching it crackle, and took a long drag. As you exhaled the smoke, you tilted your head back, noticing the full moon glowing brightly above.

"Full moon tonight," the boy beside you remarked, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "They say some crazy shit can happen on full moons."

You chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well, that could explain why I'm stuck at this party right now."

He leaned back, studying you intently. 

“I wish I could be an astronaut and get the fuck out of here.” You mused, gaze fixed on the bright glow of the moon. "I only came to this party because she said she would be here." Another drag of the cigarette punctuated your words.

"Who's she?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"My ex," you replied, trying to seem nonchalant. His gaze was fixed on you, "Hazel."

-

Until today, you hadn't spoken to Hazel in over three months, choosing to cut off all contact in an attempt to speed up the process of moving on. You're both surprised that you managed to endure the silence for so long, and disappointed that she hasn't made any effort to reach out, not even once. 

That was until about six hours ago when you were sitting at a coffee shop on campus with your roommate, Brittany, studying for your upcoming statistics exam. 

"Don't look now, but Hazel just walked in," she whispers, her tone hushed, and her eyes widening. "And she's with another girl."

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You were seated with your back to the door, and you watched as they both approached the corner, heading in your direction.

"Brittany!" the blonde girl accompanying Hazel exclaims, leaving the three of you momentarily stunned.

Hazel follows a few steps behind, clearly taken aback by the encounter. She looked annoyingly hot, her disheveled brown hair, baggy white t-shirt and black jeans, adorned with her signature silver chains and rings. It takes all your strength not to stare. 

"Hey, Amanda," Brittany replied, forcing a polite smile. "Hazel."

Hazel offers a nod in greeting to Brittany and then to you. You feel like a middle-schooler again, awkward and unsure of how to act around your crush.

"Did you manage to finish that paper for Professor Sharpe's class?" the girl asked. 

As Brittany carries on the conversation with Amanda, you can feel Hazel's gaze on you, catching her eyes occasionally. 

You never anticipated the aftermath of your breakup with Hazel to be this awkward. All those nights spent tangled up together, where you both believed you could read each other's minds, now reduced to this.

"So, Hazel, are you going to Emma’s graduation party tonight? All of us are going," Brittany chimed in, attempting to steer the conversation away from the obvious tension.

Hazel smiled sheepishly, replying, "Yeah, I’m going."

"Cool," Brittany replied, her smile masking the underlying awkwardness in the air.

A beat of uncomfortable silence hung between you all.

"Will you be there?" Hazel asked breaking the silence, turning toward you, her voice almost hesitant.

"Yeah, I'll be there," you said, mustering a small smile. "Wouldn’t want to miss it."

Hazel smiled, "Cool," she said, her voice soft, "I'll see you there then."

Just as the atmosphere began to ease, Amanda abruptly intervened, her grip firm on Hazel's hand. "Hazel, let’s go, I forgot something in my car," Amanda said, her tone strangely possessive, and she dragged Hazel away before you could utter another word.

-

This breadcrumb of information has led you here. You spent the first fifteen minutes at the party searching for her like a lost puppy. When you couldn't find her, you contemplated leaving but opted to drown your thoughts with tequila shots instead. Now, you're clinging to any scrap of attention you can find, desperately trying to purge her from your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the male voice beside you. "D’you have a light?" he asked, his cigarette aimed in your direction. You stare at him for a moment, deadpan, still frozen in your thoughts from the events that unfolded earlier today. 

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, reaching for your phone. You’re calling her.

-

“You’re soaked,” Hazel says as you climb into the front seat of her car, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance. “Seriously, you’re getting mud all over the floor of my car.” While you were waiting for Hazel to pick you up from the party, It started raining, you thought enduring it outside would be better than being stuffed in that small house full of people you didn't even really know. 

“You lied.” You retort back. 

“What?”

“You said you were coming to the party.” 

“Yeah well, my plans changed. Put your seatbelt on.” As she shifted the car into reverse, she placed her hand on your seat to steady herself. With a quick glance over your shoulder, she backed out of the driveway in one brisk movement.

You attempted to keep your composure, trying not to make it entirely obvious that you were basically drooling over how hot she looked doing that.  

“I can tell that there’s someone else,” You say after a few moments of silence, trying to disguise your jealousy with innocent curiosity. “Come on, tell me,” You finally click your seatbelt into place. “I can take it well.” 

"Oh, I know you can," she replied, shooting you a smug look, trying to divert this conversation from getting too deep right now.

“Hazel.” You groan at her dumb attempt at an innuendo, throwing your head backward and hitting the headrest. “Just be honest. Is it the girl from the coffee shop earlier? Or what about the girl Isabel saw you with last week at the library? Or both? Who am I kidding, there’s probably even more than that.”

“Do you have like, personal spies assigned to watch over me?”

You don’t respond right away, deciding to avoid her questions like she’s avoiding yours. You crank the window open and throw your head out. The spring wind cool on your face. 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

She’s quiet for a moment. 

Look, I know I wasn't where I said I'd be, but I was busy, doing stuff," she replied defensively.

"Yeah," you scoffed, your words tinged with a hint of anger. "I'm sure you were."

You sit the next few minutes in silence, wondering if this whole thing was a bad idea. You couldn't pinpoint why you had called her in the first place. The intensity of seeing her earlier mixed with the disappointment of the lackluster party had left you missing her, even though you weren't entirely sure why.

"So, where am I taking you?" Hazel asked, her gaze shifting from the road to you. Strands of her brown hair were tousled by the wind.

Your buzz had faded, and with it, your initial courage waned. Swallowing hard, you hesitated before speaking. "Can I sleep at yours? Not— not like that," you hurriedly clarified, feeling a sudden need to explain. "It's just that Brittany has her new boyfriend over, and I could go back there, but I don’t really want to."

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” 

After a moment, Hazel hesitantly rested her hand on your thigh, both of you aware of the significance of the touch, even if neither acknowledged it. Her fingers gave a gentle squeeze, the subtle pressure made your tummy flip. Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding lingered, hinting that this night might entail more than just a ride home.

-

Hazel's apartment is full of brown moving boxes, an aching reminder of why you broke up in the first place. 

“Wow, this place is pretty much all packed up.” You say, slowly walking through the place, eventually landing at the doorway into her bedroom. 

She nods in response, her face reflecting a mixture of anticipation and sadness, settling down at the end of her bed.

"So, when do you leave?" The question weighed heavily on your heart as you voiced it. You wished you didn't have to ask these questions, yearning for a time when you were part of her plans, not just a spectator.

“Two weeks. My Aunt is gonna meet me at JFK and help me move into my new place.”

You sighed, feeling brave, "I wish I had the date circled on my calendar, helping you move, or going with you." You say the last part quiet, mostly to yourself.

The conversation lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You walked over to her dresser, where a mirror was propped up, decorated with photos of you two from a photobooth, still clinging to the glass. Your heart swelled with mixed emotions.

Hazel says your name, breaking you from your trance. 

“Come here,” she says. 

You walk over slowly, standing between her legs. Your hands rest on her shoulders and you take a deep breath.

With both of your gazes locked, her hands came up behind your thighs, gently grabbing them and pulling them on either side of her one by one so you’re straddling her. Her hand comes up to brush a piece of hair from your face. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby” Her voice is barely a whisper as she stares up at you, her eyes practically shimmering with your reflection, Her hands settle on your waist, the warmth of her touch sending a pang of guilt through you. This breakup was unlike any you'd experienced before, and the raw emotions lingered, making you hesitate for a moment.

Your hands move up to cradle her face, your thumb dragging on her bottom lip. Still maintaining intense eye contact, you slowly slip your finger into her mouth, watching her with a mix of awe and longing.

The silence as you stare at each other is anything but awkward. It was charged with the weight of shared mourning, each of you navigating the complexity of a relationship's end.

You removed your finger, and in response, she grabbed your head gently, guiding it down towards her face, her eyes locked onto yours. Your lips barely grazed each other, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear your rapid heartbeat. Hazel kissed you slowly at first, the touch of her lips sending a rush through your entire body. It quickly escalated, and there was a certain neediness to the way you both kissed, scared it could be the last time.

"Missed you," She whispered against your lips. Your mouths slid together, tongues pressing and exploring. The intensity of the kiss speaks volumes, like you were making up for lost time. Her lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, lingering kisses, setting your body on fire. 

“Fuck, Hazel.” It was almost embarrassing how quickly you melted beneath her touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” You say, your voice strained, a soft moan escaping your lips. You very much wanted to be doing this, you just thought you should at least try to seem like you had stronger breakup morals than you did. Her hands found the curve of your ass, and you instinctively started to rock your hips slowly back and forth, seeking some much-needed friction. 

"Do you want me to stop? Say the word, and I'll stop, pretty girl," she murmured against your neck, her open-mouthed kisses and gentle suction on your pulse point sending shivers down your spine. You didn't reply with words, but your fingers found her hair, silently urging her to continue. "I need an answer, babygirl," 

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice catching in your throat. "Please, don't stop." Your hips still lazily moving on her. Her mouth was back on yours, deepening the kiss as she guided you both down, her hands roaming over the back of your legs and your ass. She tugged at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of it and leaving you in your black lace bra.  

"So fucking perfect. Missed you so fucking much," she confessed, 

"I missed you too, Haze, every day," you whined, 

"You ever think about me? she asked, breathless. "About this?" she continued 

You nodded, your breath hitching as you confessed, "All the time. Couldn't stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth."

Her eyes darken as you sit up and effortlessly unhook your bra, leaning back down, your lips finding their way to her collarbone, marking a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Your hands slowly creep their way up under her shirt, seeking permission. She nods, a silent affirmation, and you gently peel her shirt off over her head. Your stomach flips as you feel her arms effortlessly turn both of you over, trading places, landing on your back as she hovers over you. Her silver chain dangling above your face. It felt like your first time all over again, you felt a sense of shyness creeping over you under her gaze. Anticipation and excitement blooming in your chest.

“Fuck, look at you.” She says. The way she’s studying you makes you feel like the most beautiful thing to ever exist, as if every curve of your body is a masterpiece deserving of praise. Unable to contain your impatience, you pull her head down to meet your lips, your hips instinctively bucking up, frustration showing in the heated moment. Her fingers start to trail downwards under your skirt, meeting your clothed cunt. “You want me to fuck you? Hm?” She whispers in your ear, “Is that what you want baby?” She taunts, her fingers slowly grazing over your underwear. 

You nod vigorously, your enthusiasm evident. She responds by sucking on your neck again, sending shivers down your spine, your face flushed with heat. Your hands instinctively tug at her hair.

“Yes, Haze, please, fuck.” You arch your neck, pressing it firmly into the softness of the pillow beneath, a small gasp escaping your lips as you surrender to the moment. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

She makes a noise of desperation, her warm breath fanning over your face. “Gonna make you feel so good baby” She moves your underwear to the side, running her fingers through your slick folds. You gasp and she groans. “Wanna make it up to you.”

She tugs at the waistband of your skirt. You lift your hips as she guides it down along with your underwear. Hazel curses under her breath, “You’re so wet, it’s so fucking hot.” She plants kisses all over your chest, each one feeling like it could set you on fire. 

She slowly fucks you with her middle finger, the touch leaving you reeling. She adds her ring finger, her free hand snaking under your neck. Her fingers gently grab the side of your face while she fucks you, slightly tugging and grazing them against your parted lips. It's an intimate gesture, conveying both tenderness and desire.

Your hips buck up to meet her fingers. “Holy fuck” you groan as she pumps them faster into you. “Like that,” your voice is completely shot. Your entire body fizzed from the contact. You gently bite down on her fingers near your mouth while she places kisses all over your cheeks and your lips. Your head spun with thoughts of her - her mouth, her hair, her scent, Hazel was everywhere, all-encompassing. 

“Fuck, you’re so good” She half slurs, her voice wrecked, pupils blown and her lips parted. “So good for me.” She whispers, keeping her pace, dragging her digits through the wetness at your core.

Her mouth makes its way down your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses until she’s on her stomach between your thighs. Pumping faster, her lips suck at your clit. Her other hand presses down on your abdomen, holding you in place. You cup your aching tits, feeling them move with every motion she makes.

“Hazel,” you whine, “Haze, I-” Her fingers pick up the pace, curling inside of you. You tread your fingers through her hair, tugging slightly, the coil in your tummy growing tighter and tighter. 

“I know, honey, I know,” She says in response to your moans. “You sound so pretty baby, missed those sounds so much.” She keeps babbling, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look for her. 

“Fuck, don’t stop” you moan as she continues fucking you with her mouth and fingers, her pace alternating between teasing and fast, pushing you toward the edge. The contrast in her movements intensifies the pleasure, almost giving you want you want but flaking at the last moment, it’s torture.

“Shit, you’re almost there sweetheart” Hazel swears under her breath, voice laced with her own arousal. Her words drive you closer to the edge. You swear you can see stars as the overwhelming feeling shocks through your body. Your heart rate picks up immensley, pounding in your chest.

“Gonna come for me baby, yeah?” “Want you to come all over these fingers.” 

And you did. Your body clenches around her fingers, trembling, moans and curses spilling from your lips. Your eyes form with tears from the overstimulation. Her face landed in the crook of your neck, planting sloppy kisses and whispering reassurances as she guides you through the climax.

“Good girl, that’s it, honey. That’s it,” she murmurs.

Her fingers still slowly pumping in and out of you, riding out your high.

“Holy shit," you say once you've caught your breath. "Haze, c'mere." She lifts her head back up and you yank her face down to yours, tasting yourself on her lips as she lets out a soft moan. When you eventually pull away, both breathless, you lock eyes before bursting into disbelieving laughter.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You whisper.

"I can," she says smugly. You playfully shove her before she collapses beside you. Both of you lie face to face, studying each other's features, committing them to memory, afraid you might forget what they look like. Her hand rests on your waist, mindlessly grazing up and down.

"What's the real reason you didn't come to the party? You ask. Were you with someone else?" Hazel shakes her head.

She pauses before speaking, "I thought if there was any chance of you being there, that I was gonna walk in and maybe see you with someone else. There was no way I could've handled that. I've been distracting myself with other girls, yeah, but..." Her voice trails off. "You have no idea how in love with you I still am." Her voice cracking with emotion. You can see a tear forming in Hazel’s eye, glimmering in the low light of the room.

“Hazel..” Your own voice slightly breaking. You reach out and drag your thumb delicately against her cheek, wiping the stray tear away. Your heart is breaking with a mixture of guilt and longing for the girl lying beside you.

“I still play pretend, in my head.” She whispers.

You smile, your hand resting on her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, a signal of encouragement for her to keep going. 

“I picture us, living together in our apartment in the city.” 

Hazel was moving to New York City to work for her aunt after graduation. The reason you broke up, neither of you wanting to do long distance.

“Waking up next to you everyday, cooking you breakfast, fucking you on the countertop for hours” You both laugh at that. “Ever since I met you, I’ve always pictured you just being there. And these past few months…” 

“Absolute hell.” You finish for her. 

“Absolute hell.” She agrees. 

You take her hand and squeeze it, a silent form of reassurance. 

She shifts slightly and hovers over you again, brushing your damp hair off your forehead with her hand, and scans your face. “I don’t want this to end” she whispers. 

You wish you could capture this moment, tuck it away, and replay it whenever you wanted. You’ve been waiting for her to say these exact words for the past three months, you just never thought it would happen. The reason for your break-up still heavily taunts the back of your mind. 

“I love you” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. Taking her face in your hand and capturing her in another kiss. She kisses you sweetly and desperately.

You pull away, gently coaxing her back towards you, and cuddle her into your chest, assuming the role of the big spoon.

She nestles into your arms, finding comfort in the warmth of your body. With a soft sigh, she murmurs, "I wish we had more time.”

You tighten your hold around her, "We'll figure something out, I promise," you whisper, though you aren’t even sure of the reality of your own words. You choose to let go of the uncertainties, preferring to revel in the present moment. She looks back at you, and you kiss her forehead, a silent promise to cherish what you have, even if time feels fleeting.

“God damn full moon.” You mutter to yourself, remembering your earlier conversation at the party.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing.” You say. “Don’t worry about it.” You kiss her shoulder, settling into the softness of the moment.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

tagging @astroph1les @vster0769

[harmonictechnicality]

*no rest for the wicked*

my teensy contribution to @thefreakandthehair's spicy six summer collection 💖 | word count: 3k | rating: T | ao3 link | also, this wouldn't exist if @chocoarts didn't send me a sketch that immediately set off sparklers in my brain so bless youuu ✨

Twenty-six hours. That’s how long Eddie has been up. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes. The heaviness hanging in his eyes is medieval-level torturous, and the cramp in his left calf is probably permanent by now. 

A sane person who enjoys sleeping might be asking, ‘Why? Why put yourself through this when there’s a perfectly decent bed down the hall?’ And Eddie would be forced to reply back with two, simple words:

Concert. Tickets.

That’s right, Eddie is actively murdering his own brain cells to win two vip tickets on the radio. Twenty-seven hours ago, it seemed like a grand idea. Genius, even. It’s free and minimal effort - he just has to call the station every hour on the dot. No biggie, right?

Ha, sure. Tell that to the muscles in his eyelids.

“How much longer do you have?” Chrissy asks, snagging a magazine from the stack on the couch.

Eddie checks his watch. Huffs out a laugh. “Let’s just say, I could watch the entire Star Wars trilogy including the credits for each one.”

“Translating to...?”

“Seven-ish hours.” Robin quickly chimes. She pops out of her bedroom and joins Chrissy’s side, instantly threading their hands together. They share a look, one that makes Eddie believe in nice things, even in his state of misery. It’s their superpower, injecting their optimistic outlook into the atmosphere. Infectious in the best way. 

“I always forget that you speak fluent nerd.” Chrissy snorts.

“Ouch.” Robin gasps and pulls away, stomping off to their room. Too dramatic to be believable. “Get back to bed before I actually feel offended by that.”

Normally, Eddie is charmed by how hopelessly in love his roommates are with each other. But right now, they are his mortal enemies (well, tied with The Clock), because they get to sleep and he gets to stare at the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Every now and then, it flickers, which never fails to startle him. 

Good. He desperately needs the extra alertness. 

Another forty-five minutes go by before anything noteworthy happens. Eddie’s other roommate gets off his night shift around one in the morning. The front door squeals as it opens, crackling all the adrenaline leftover in Eddie’s body. 

“Scared the shit out of me, man.” Which could’ve been a literal statement if Eddie hadn’t just taken a bathroom break.

“Gotta get this door fixed.” Steve says. That’s what he always says when it creaks. The reaction never changes, always skating his fingers over the door hinges, mouth twisting to the side. Hands on his hips in disapproval. Eddie has to look away before Steve breaks out his insufferably cute ‘foot tap’ routine. “Hey - why are you still up?”

Ah, yes. Just what Eddie needed. A reminder that it’s fucking late. He finds the energy (or common decency, who knows) to point at the phone. Then to the radio.

“You’re still doing that, huh?”

Eddie nods twice.

“Damn, I’ve never heard you this quiet.” Steve sounds genuinely surprised. A little too smug for Eddie’s liking. “Didn’t know your mouth could stay in a straight line for this long.”

There it is. The rich boy smartassery that will never die. Always lurking in the depths of his genetic makeup.

Eddie claps, total deadpan.

The conversation lulls while Steve messes around in the kitchen for a bit. He’s noisily opening cabinets and clanking dishes around in the sink. Eventually, he walks back into the living room with two beers. 

Both for him apparently. “Well, listen,” he starts out. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m pretty wired after work, so if you need some company-”

“Six… hours… left.” Eddie musters out.

“Okay well, I doubt I’ll last that long. But I can give it a shot.”

Eddie smirks, raises both eyebrows. “There’s a dirty joke somewhere in there. Too tired to find it though.”

“Good to know the horny part of your mind is still awake.” Steve gives Eddie a small pat on the head. 

“Oh? That’s a good thing?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.” It’s too direct, Eddie hears it. And now it’s just Out There - his inability to flirt in a subtle way. And yeah, he could blame it on sleep deprivation, but he’s never been known for his mastery of ambiguity so…

The pause goes on long enough for the light to flicker again, the room growing darker with it. Steve takes a swig of his drink and smiles. “It’s good to know, Ed.”

The light flickers even darker.

Eddie is fully awake after that. Which could’ve been part of Steve’s plan - stimulate his brain with flirty comments and keep him up with those melty smiles. It’s no secret that Eddie turns into a hair-twirling loser around this guy. 

Even after living together for a year and seeing one another’s most disgusting habits, he still feels this way. Tight throat, stomach flips. Purely smitten in a way that would nauseate deadbeat poets.

In this moment, however, it’s a wonderful remedy to staying awake throughout the rest of the night. Much more effective than energy drinks and Tootsie Rolls.

Steve ends up on the floor, leaning against the edge of the couch. He sips another beer, recounting some bullshit that happened during his shift at the hotel. Eddie does his best impression of Listening to Steve’s stories, but the words are just buzzing around the glow of Steve’s hair and the shine on his lips. Nodding at seemingly appropriate times is all Eddie currently can offer.

“Sleeping with your eyes open, Munson?”

Eddie blinks hard. “Huh?”

“Creepy, but impressive.” Steve laughs, tapping his hand against Eddie’s leg. “You should add that to the Special Skills column on your resumé.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a resumé.”

They spend the next hour doing just that - adding useless skills to Eddie’s nonexistent resumé. It keeps them busy. Content. Steve smacks Eddie’s knee anytime he laughs, leaves his hand longer every time. Maybe that’s all in Eddie’s semi-dormant mind, especially since Steve shows casual affection to all of his friends. But the warmth of his palm is real enough to have Eddie fully committed to making Steve laugh as much as possible.

“What about… Expert Paper Clip Chain-Maker?” Steve suggests. 

Eddie stares at the chain in his hand, the one he was oblivious to creating. He whips it around like a lasso and then shrugs. “A bit wordy.”

“So you’re saying length matters?”

“Christ on toast, Harrington. You’re awfully quick to jump to that conclusion, aren’t you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just starts laughing again. Eddie didn’t even need to tell a shitty joke this time. 

And when Steve’s hand hits his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, Eddie laughs along with him. It’s the only way to cover up the heat rushing to his face.

Eddie enters the realm of delirium with three hours left in his challenge. He slumps onto the floor next to Steve, nudging his shoulder, staring into his sleep-heavy eyes. It’s four in the morning, inhibitions be damned.

“Do you think if you ever visit Europe, they’d call you Harring-metric-ton?” Eddie picks a piece of lint off Steve’s sleeve. Perfect excuse to reach out, move in closer.

Steve groans. “Yikes. But yes, that question keeps me up at night.”

“So that’s why you’re still awake. See, I knew it wasn’t because of my silly little concert tickets.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, Eddie convinces himself that it’s the truth. Which is so dumb, so stupid. But this seed of insecurity keeps him going, fully projecting his assumptions onto Steve’s harmless comment. Somewhere deep down, buried underneath his exhaustion, Eddie knows it was a joke. But he can’t seem to shut up anymore.

“The riddle has been solved, folks! We finally know why Stevie here is still awake.” Eddie exclaims, flinging his arms out to the side. “Alert Scooby and the gang at once! Mystery Incorporated can finally pack up their magnifying glasses and pursue careers with better health insurance. Ones that covers vision costs this time. It’s what dear, ol' Velma deser-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a hand on Eddie’s arm, holding him still. Was he moving? Oh god, was he shaking? 

Fucking mortifying.

Steve’s thumb swipes across Eddie’s skin, tracing diagonal lines back and forth. “You’re rambling.”

“And you’re…” Eddie loses focus. He looks down at the hypnotic patterns that Steve is making. “There. Doing that.”

Steve stops briefly to flip Eddie’s hand over, starts tracing the lines in his palm instead. The pressure makes Eddie’s heart lurch up into his throat. He can feel it thumping in his neck, faster with every stroke of Steve’s fingers. All he wants to do is close his hand around them, keep Steve there for the rest of the night. Longer if he’d let him.

“I can stop if it’s weird.” Steve’s voice is so much quieter than it was earlier. 

Don’t stop. Eddie thinks. Can’t say it like that because gross. Humiliating and gross. “It’s not weird.”

Steve keeps his focus on the motion, Eddie does the same. They stay like this for a while, just watching. Intently staring over the invisible lines like pages in a novel. Eddie is pretty sure he’s breathing too loud, can hear it above the whistle in the air conditioner. Wonders if Steve can hear it too. 

Probably.

“That’s not why I’m staying awake.” Steve says, never breaking the pattern.

“No?”

“It’s who I’m staying awake for.”

Steve finally stops, right in the center of Eddie’s hand. The air in the room goes dense, weighted with acknowledgment. Something has changed and Eddie can feel it everywhere. 

He tilts forward, pulling his gaze away from his hand and up at Steve’s lips. If he weren’t stuck between half-awake and total-delirium, Eddie would just do it. Kiss Steve the way he’s always wanted to. Syrupy slow and deep. Savoring every second.

He could do it right now, right this second. But his focus starts drifting as he closes his eyes. “Did Chrissy tell you?” Eddie grumbles, almost unintelligible. 

“Tell me what?”

Eddie’s head falls, landing somewhere on Steve’s chest. He inhales the scent of laundry detergent (because Steve and Chrissy are the only avid laundry-doers in the apartment). It’s so soothing, drawing him further into a dreamlike place.

“Tell me what, Ed?”

“That I…” Eddie is nearly asleep before he can finish the thought. The confession:

‘That I’m crazy about you.’

Sunlight hits Eddie first, startles him so much that he jolts upward. Fully awake. It takes a few seconds of furiously rubbing his eyes before the dread kicks in. 

Morning.

It’s morning.

“Shit.”

Eddie fell asleep.

Steve fell asleep.

“Shitshitshit. So many shits!” He fumbles through the labyrinth of blankets and pillows around him, snatching his watch from the coffee table:

10:24 a.m.

“Goddamnit!”

Eddie sinks back down to the floor, clutching the phone that serves him no purpose anymore. All of those hours of waiting and calling for nothing. Even if general admission wasn’t already sold out, it’s not like Eddie could afford tickets on his own. He can barely keep up with his share of the rent. Chrissy had to cover for his grocery run last week and he still hasn’t paid her back.

It’s just so expected too - for him to fuck up like this. Always letting opportunities slip through the cracks, making careless mistakes. No one will be surprised that he failed at such a simple task like calling a fucking radio station.

Eddie sets the phone back on the table and cleans up the living room in a daze. Every now and then, he mutters under his breath about being a total moron. He stays relatively quiet for the most part though. No use in throwing a bitchfest while Steve is blissfully conked out three feet away.

Of course he looks good sleeping too, even in the midst of Eddie’s breakdown. Unfair.

Just before heading back to his room, Eddie hears that familiar door creak. Same one that always sets off Steve’s inner handyman tendencies. 

He looks back to see Chrissy padding towards him with a blanket wrapped around her. For someone who hasn’t had their mood-altering cup of coffee yet, she looks extremely pleased to see him. Maybe she knows about the fate of the concert tickets. Maybe this is an early-risers pity party.

Fucking yay.

“Chris, please don’t try to-”

His words are muffled by Chrissy throwing her arms (and blanket cape) around him. She’s so bouncy, the way she always gets with Robin whenever their favorite song comes on at the karaoke bar. He pats her on the back and clears his throat, still trying to piece together what this exchange could be about. However, Eddie is functioning on a few hours of sleep, so his cognitive skills are groggy at best.

She gives him one more squeeze and then looks up, positively gleaming. “I knew it! I knew it would finally happen!”

“That I’d screw up for the umpteenth time in my life? Gee thanks, Chris.” Eddie says.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Steve!” She whisper-yells back.

Was she snooping on them last night? He wouldn’t put it past her, snoopiness is the foundation of their friendship. Well, whatever Chrissy thought she saw, she’s wrong. Sure, Steve and Eddie flirted, both letting some potentially mutual feelings slip out.

But it was all cut short by Eddie passing out mid-flirt. God knows how Steve took that reaction. Probably assumed Eddie was so bored that he would rather sleep than makeout with him. Or worse, that Eddie was pretending to sleep to let him down easy.

Christ, he doesn’t wanna think about that right now. Not while he’s still mourning the loss of his precious tickets.

“Hate to break it to you, honeyjam, but nothing happened.” Eddie shakes his head, gesturing to Steve who hasn’t budged from the recliner. “It’s just me over here and Steve over there. No conjunction connecting us together in that way.”

He can already tell Chrissy isn’t buying it. She’s getting that little forehead wrinkle right above her eyebrows, just like an angry cartoon character. Her best attempt at intimidation. “You didn’t see what I saw.” 

“Gay desperation?”

“No, you jackass. Come here!”

Chrissy yanks Eddie into his bedroom, demanding for him to lock the door. He listens, mainly because the intimidation is starting to work a little. They sit at the edge of the bed and she begins to explain everything she saw:

Steve constructing a wall of blankets and pillows around Eddie to ensure he slept comfortably. Steve waiting by the phone, tapping his foot in that insufferably cute way that Eddie loves so much. Steve scoring the tickets, celebrating quietly to himself.

“How long were you standing at the door, weirdo?” Eddie teases her to avoid the way his stomach is twisting around her words. 

Chrissy shushes him and squeals. “And he kissed your cheek!”

“Liar.”

“He did, I swear! He kissed you on the cheek or the chin or the nose. I don't know which one for sure because my view was obstructed by all of your hair.”

Eddie instinctively combs his fingers through a few strands, undoing the knotted pieces. Not all of them, but enough to keep his hands busy while he thinks through this. Processing. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream?”

“Positive.”

“What about a hallucination? Didn’t Byers make a batch of those infamous brownies again?”

Chrissy gives a deep sigh. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.” She shrugs the blanket back over her arms and heads toward the door. More than a fair assessment, Eddie can’t argue even if he wanted to (he always does). 

He stares at the line of posters along his wall, letting Chrissy’s words replay over and over. Imagining what it might have felt like. If Steve’s breath was warm or if his lips were soft. Eddie wonders how it looked to have Steve dipping down to his level. Staying so quiet, so careful not to disturb him. The visuals swarm his head until there’s nothing left but Steve. 

Him and Steve. Connecting them together in that way after all.

So, Eddie gets up and walks back into the living room. He takes in the view of Steve curled up in the recliner, mouth slightly parted open. Chest falling with every sniffle, not quite a snore.

There’s so many emotions while looking at him. Eddie can’t just pin one down to fully comprehend what's going on. All he can do is repeat the scene that’s occupying his mind, settling in his bones.

“Here,” he whispers, placing another blanket across Steve’s lap. It’s feathery gentle, more than he intends for it to be. So gentle that Steve doesn’t shift or stir. 

Eddie takes a deep breath and bends down, close enough to notice all the little details. The ones he’s been too sheepish to indulge in before last night. 

The tiny hairs on Steve’s forearm. The creases in his t-shirt. The bit of dried toothpaste on his chin. None of it should make his cheeks feel this flushed, but they do.

He lets the rush of bravery wash through him as he kisses Steve on the tip of his nose. Just the way Steve must’ve done to him. It’s swift, lighter than he means for it to be. Barely touching. But it’s enough to switch his heart rate up a few notches, pulsing jumping in his wrist.

Eddie steps away, waiting to see if Steve wakes up. Not entirely sure if he wants that or if he’d rather keep this memory to himself. 

“Thanks… by the way.” Eddie adds, brushing the tips of his fingers over Steve’s hand. Wishing he could trace the lines in his palm. Rewind back to last night and pause it there indefinitely. “I’ll tell you again when you’re up, but yeah.”

“Thank you, Steve Harrington.”

[lostcherise]

Green Is the Color

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!reader

summary: Jesse - a friend, a roommate, a fool who's hopelessly in love with you. He did his best keeping his feelings on check, but it all unraveled after one night you brought a guy home. (this is based on a request by @madzzz0797 my lovely mutual)

warnings/tags: roommates!au, pining, jealousy, allusions to masturbation, light angst (if you squint, i really need to improve on that), jealous jesse, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v,

word count: 8,237 (i'm sorry?? don't know what happened there)

 Lady, lady love me, 'cause I love to lay here lazy.

Soft and distant singing was your alarm for the day, definitely a gentler sound than the angry robotic beeping of your digital alarm clock. A sleepy smile crept its way on your lips, your eyes still shut, and you snuggled deeper into the pillow with a content sigh. You rustled about a few more seconds beneath the covers, before you bravely opened your eyes and welcomed the warm glow of a sunny Sunday morning. 

We got everything we need right here and everything we need it's enough. Just so easy when the whole world fits inside of your arms. 

The singing grew louder as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen, accompanied by some occasional clanking of utensils. Walking on your tiptoes, you tried your best to be as stealthy as possible, it was a rare occasion to get to listen to Jesse sing. Your smile grew, and you bit your bottom lip fighting the urge to laugh at him. Although he was off key at times, you somewhat enjoyed his singing voice; just as buttery smooth as always.

Like waking up too early, maybe we could sleep in. Make you banana pancakes, pretend like it's the weekend now. 

With his back still turned to you, he kept on singing, only interrupting himself for a celebratory 'yeah bitch' after successfully flipping a pancake into the air, to which you failed to contain your laugh, so much for stealth. 

"Shit," Jesse whipped his head back to look at you. So much for a greeting. "Good morning." he smiled, face a tomato red and quickly redirected his attention back on the stove and he really hoped you hadn't noticed the rosy hue adorning his cheeks. 

"Good morning," you smiled back at him. "How come you're cooking breakfast?" you peered over his shoulder, the pancake batter bubbling to life before Jesse flipped it to reveal the golden brown bottom. 

"It's my turn to make us breakfast for the weekend, remember?" Jesse noted the obvious, with a teasing raise of a brow. 

Realization hit you, sleep ridden eyes widening softly. "You're right." you bumped his shoulder with yours. 

You smiled at the little tradition you two had created a year ago, a year after living together as roommates. Each weekend you guys took turns to cook breakfast for one another. It had all started after you had seen Jesse cook for the first time,  what you later realized was his favorite choice of breakfast food - huevos rancheros. Initially, it had come as a shock to you, he really gave off the impression that he hardly knew how to boil an egg, which you also had admitted to him. And that's when he took it upon himself, as a personal challenge to prove himself and made it a house rule that you alternate cooking breakfast for each other on the weekends. 

"Banana pancakes on the menu today, m'lady." Jesse informed you in a fake posh accent. 

"God, you know your way around a lady's heart." you sighed, with a resting palm on your chest, and placed a quick peck on Jesse's cheek. Before he could even register what had just happened, you were already setting the fully stacked plate onto the small white worn down kitchen table, right next to the small kitchen stand that housed various appliances you had no room for in your guys' small kitchen . 

When you weren't looking, with your back turned to him while you set up the coffee maker, Jesse moved to graze the spot your lips had left their fiery mark on. His cheek still burned beneath his touch, even after one minute had passed- as if the blood coursing through his veins had suddenly transformed into molten lava burning him on the inside out. See, ever since you and Jesse had moved in together, he found himself in a rather sticky predicament. 

He was in love with you. And you didn't know. And mostly likely did not share the sentiment. And that's why he kept his mouth shut about it, and opted to suffer in silence. 

Even now to this day, two years after his big revelation, he was scared. Scared of how much he loved you, scared of how one day he'd wake up and decide that he would come clean, two years was a long time to keep to himself after all, and risk losing his most meaningful friendship yet.  It had been two years since that one night Jesse had come to surprise you at the end of a very tiring day of work and evening classes. He remembered how your brows were furrowed, while you hugged an oversized hoodie you had confiscated from Jesse's clean laundry two weeks prior, closer to you. Your head was hung low, and you were paying no mind to your surroundings, so much so that Jesse had to honk to get your attention. 

And the moment your mood shifted when you had noticed him, was the first time his heart swelled up in his chest. How a wide grin stretched on your face, and how you had jogged excitedly over to his beloved Monte Carlo. The second time was just minutes after you had gotten in and and he had suggested you drop by your favorite ice cream parlor for a much needed pick me up. Jesse took much pride in being able to read you so well and know what you need in an instant, and that's how he had come to the conclusion that night that we was falling for you at light speed. 

Deep down he knew that no good was bound to come out of this situation he had created for himself, but to his defense that wasn't entirely his fault; you had your part to play in this too. With the way your eyes twinkled when the sun shone just right during the golden hours of the day, the way they crinkled at the corners every time you laughed at a sorry attempt of a joke he would make, the way your nose would scrunch in distaste whenever you didn't like something, the way your plush lips pursed whenever you were deep in thought, the way your smell lingered on for just a few fleeting seconds whenever you would leave his side. You smelled like a mix of pears, oranges and jasmine, which in turn reminded him of being bundled up on the couch on a cozy autumn afternoon. And Jesse would be a liar to say that he didn't often dream of spending most of his days like that with you.  

A series of expletives left Jesse's mouth, which in turn had your attention. You whipped your head back, just in time to see a black disk being discarded into the bin. "Mmm, crispy." you mused, scrunching your face in mock delight with a shimy of your shoulders.

"Shut up." Jesse flipped you off, but the smile dancing on his lips showed no annoyance. 

With a playful eyeroll, you set two steaming cups of cheap drip coffe on the table. Jesse soon followed, a sugar jar on one hand and a bottle of maple syrup on the other. You stacked a couple of of pancakes onto your plate and proceeded to drizzle a bit of maple syrup on top, all the while Jesse threw in his fifth spoonful of sugar in his coffee. "I'm still surprised you have teeth." you quipped. 

"These bad boys?" Jesse bared his surprisingly straight pearly whites at you. "Nah, they've been through worse." he shrugged and proceeded to take a sip of his coffee flavored syrup with a hum. And he was right; he'd been four years sober and you couldn't be more proud of him. Although he hardly believed so himself, Jesse had really managed to turn his life around. Getting kicked out of his aunt's house at just 19 was the start of a long journey towards recovery for him. At first the path was lonely with a lot of setbacks. His first struggle: passing his SATs and getting accepted to college. That was when you had come into the picture and that was when the steep uphill towards the top was less bleak with you on his side. 

"That's why you should appreciate them more." you countered, left cheek all puffed and rounded, filled with sweet pillowy goodness that you washed down with bitter coffee, the contrasting flavors on your taste receptors sending happy signals to the neurons in your brain. Another bite, another appreciative hum that resembled a moan a little too much. With a quirk of a brow, you shot Jesse a quizzical look that fell unnoticed as he was too busy shoveling food in his mouth while fidgeting on his seat. 

What you did not know was that at that moment, Jesse was fighting his own personal hell; trying to get those sinful sounds of yours out of his head. You really had no business moaning over some banana pancakes, he wasn't even that great of a cook; you had to be exaggerating on purpose. If that was the case, then you had definitely gotten what you wanted. 

Oblivious, you continued eating, almost quietly. Almost. After every two bites or so, you'd sneakily slip a quiet moan that would have Jesse twitching in his pants. "You know what I think?" you asked, swallowing the last bite of your pancakes. "Ditch business," you pointed a fork at him, before grabbing another pancake from the now smaller stack. "Go to culinary school." To which you earned a disbelieving snort from him. 

"You know what I think?" it was Jesse's turn to ask you that. He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with something more as they studied your face and in those seconds you took the chance to drink him in too. The five o'clock shadow that accentuated his chiseled cheeks and jawline, his eyes; the bluest oceans you often found yourself helplessly drowning in, the way the corners of his lips quirked into a smirk. "You pretend you like my cooking so you can get in my pants." he teased, his tone lower than usual. 

"What would you do then?" you asked, surprising even yourself with your fowrward question. Part of you wouldn't mind if Jesse would brush it off entirely, pretend nothing was ever said, yet curiosity was eating at you from the inside. What would he do? What did you want him to do? It so seemed that Jesse was more dumbfounded at your brazeness, as he was a sputtering mess, wide eyes avoiding yours entirely, seemingly more focused on finishing his breakfast. Surprisingly so, another small part of you grew disappointed as seconds ticked by and Jesse remained silent, downing the last sip of his now lukewarm coffee. 

"Gonna hit the, uh," he paused to clear his throat, voice thick and strained. "Hit the shower..." Jesse jutted his jaw on one side, the tip of his tongue rolling beneath his cheek and without saying much else, getting up in a hurry. Your gaze trailed his retreating form, until he disappeared into the hallway, and inside the bathroom. 

A few seconds pass, before you decide to go back to your room, that was conveniently next to the bathroom. The sound of the shower running resonated through your room in a low, steady hum. You crawled into bed and closed your eyes as you laid there, relaxing. 

Until you heard it. 

At first you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, but no, you heard it again. A little louder this time. With your eyes transfixed on the ceiling, your mouth fell open as you let out a silent gasp. There it was again, it was almost being drowned out by the water running, but being right next to the bathroom it was hard to miss the sounds of Jesse moaning. Heat rushed to your cheeks, it felt so wrong, as if you were intruding in on his personal time. You could leave, hang around in the living room, until he finished, literally. Or, you could lay there and listen to Jesse struggle to keep his voice down, his sinful whimpers growing a tad louder as he brought himself closer to the edge. 

"Jesus." your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at high speed. A familiar burning traveled all the way from your chest and nestled in your abdomen, your body pumping with a feeling you couldn't exactly put your finger on. Out of their own accord your thighs squeezed and squeezed until you could get a semblance of euphoria, but it was not enough. Jesse's muffled moans grew in frequency and a few curse words slipping in here and there, and you could hear the urgency in his voice. 

"Oh....fuck." it was long and drawn out, and it was like music to your ears. Silence fell from the other side of the wall other than the water hitting the shower tiles, which also stopped after a minute or two. Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear the blood pumping in your ears, because what the fuck had just happened? You had just eavesdropped on your roommate masturbating and you enjoyed it. With a swift swipe of your tongue over your dry lips, you let out a sigh and turned your head to glare at the top drawer of your nightstand. 

With a scrunch of your brows, you squeezed your eyes shut for a second, and reached inside for your old trusty pink vibrator. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, an alien sound leaving your lips as you sucked air in, and stared at the small yet wondrous toy in your hand. It sort of felt wrong that you were so turned on by your roommate jacking off, but you were so dead set on chasing your own high at that moment that you gave no second thoughts, and the toy buzzed to life. 

The next weeks were pretty much spent trying not to think about that one Sunday morning, so much so that you sought temporary solutions in going out on dates, but to no avail. You couldn't quite put a finger on what it was, maybe like the fact that you looked for Jesse in all the guys you had gone out this, 'but Jesse...' always lingering in your mind as an afterthought to every little thing. You didn't know what it was exactly about that morning, but it had awakened suppressed emotions you hadn't even realized you had, or had chosen to ignore them. Only one guy, Andrew, was deemed worthy and made the cut, and that was only because he had earned the least amount of 'but Jesse's out of the previous ones, so he had earned himself a third date. 

That is how you had ended up stumbling in inside your dark apartment, your tangled bodies hitting your entryway stand in a frenzied state of kissing and groping. 

"Shh," you mumbled in between kisses, but that only seemed to spur Andrew on, and he let out a throaty moan the moment your fingers tugged at his golden brown hair, that very much resembled Jesse's. "Be quiet, you're gonna wake my roommate up." you broke the kiss with a whisper and blindly dragged him towards your room. 

Meanwhile, he tried to attatch his lips wherever he could, whether it were along your arms, the side of your neck to which you moaned, only because your mind was wandering off to a certain someone. "I can. Question is," he paused, his lips overing just above your ear, his hot breath fanning over your skin. "Can you?" Easy there tiger, was how you truly wanted to respond, yet you masked it with a moan. He was sweet talking you the entire time but his words fell unnoticed as they mindlessly slipped from one ear and out the other. Clothes were being discarded in a frenzy and soon enough you found yourself tangled in between the sheets with the almost stranger. 

The nightstand lamp cast a soft glow on his features, your eyes scanning his face, searching for a sense of familiarity. You found it in his eyes, the same hue as Jesse's yet they weren't the same at all. Andrew leaned down to bury himself in your neck, and your eyelids fluttered shut and pictured the only pair of blues you were longing for, while Andrew worked his way on your body, set on getting you there. The room was filled with noises of you, moans mixing in with the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin, that only grew faster by the minute. There it was, that familiar burning growing within, ready to envelop you like a wildfire. With furrowed brows, you tried to consentrate on it, trying your damn hardest not to let it slip away. Above you, Adrew groaned hotly, his rhythm growing sloppier by the second, and his hips stuttered as he stilled inside you and spilled into the condom.

And just like that, the fire dwindled. 

Jesse dragged his feet across the hardwood floor, sluggishly making his way to the kitchen, dragging a hand across his bed ridden eyes and face. Despite having splashed his face with cold water, he couldn't get rid of the sleepiness, maybe a cup of coffee would do the trick. As he neared the kitchen, he heard rustling and your muffled voice, probably talking on the phone, he assumed. He neared the kitchen entrance with a smile, ready to greet you and his entire mood shifted. 

Where Jesse normally sat on the kitchen table, when he would share his meals with you, was another man. Jesse's heart plummeted and it felt as it was being cut to pieces with a blunt butterknife, slow and painful. Maybe he was overreacting, but the way that stranger had moved the chair to be closer to you, the way his body was shifted close to yours, and the fucking way he was playing with your hands while you talked; it drove him over the edge. His chest heaved and he clutched the hem of his oversized graphic tee, trying to keep the little green monster growing inside him at bay. 

You giggled at something the guy said to you and Jesse's chest constricted, only he got to make you laugh like that. At that moment, your gaze lifted up and connected with Jesse's, surprise painted on your features for just a couple of seconds, but you hid it with a smile. "Jesse, good morning. I made extra coffee for you." you pointed at the coffee maker. 

"Mhm, morning," he mumbled under his breath. "Thanks." he tried a little louder, his voice coming out broken from the lack of use and all the pent up emotion that tightened around his throat. 

"Andrew, this is my roommate I was telling you about." you turned your attention to the guy next to you. "Jesse, this is Andrew." 

"Hi." Andrew greeted Jesse after a beat of silence. "You know," he chuckled dryly. "I thought your roommate would be a girl, to be honest." his laugh dying out as both you and Jesse remained silent, you only giving a polite smile in response and Jesse glared at how he was still holding your hand. He didn't even know this guy, if it was serious, surely he would know you were seeing somebody, so why was holding your hand as if you two were dating? 

"Why, you'd feel less threatened?" Jesse grumbled coarsely. In turn, Andrew's smile fell in an instant, his lips pursing in an o shape as he tried to process Jesse's comment. Just as shocked at Jesse's sudden aggressiveness, you momentarily pushed your head back and frowned in surprise, your eyes holding a silent conversation with his, to which Jesse merely shrugged in response. Quietly, he grabbed his favorite mug - it was a Billy the Puppet mug you had gifted him on his birthday about a year ago - poured himself some coffee and left the kitchen without a word. 

Once in the livng room, the TV came to life, Jesse flipping the channels mindlessly until he settled on some Seinfeld reruns. Ten minutes into the episode, he heard your voices approaching, yet he didn't turn his head to look as you bid Andrew farewell. Although, from the corner of his eye he was able to catch a glimpse of Andrew leaning down on your level and pecking you on the lips just as he was leaving. Jesse's top lip curled, the jealousy eating him up on the inside; that should've been him. And that chance was lost on him because he was a fucking coward, he had made his bed and now he had to lie in it. It's just that he hadn't expected it would hurt him so much and he was being unreasonably selfish for wishing things wouldn't work out between you two. 

The TV screen went black, which earned you an angry scowl from Jesse. "Yo, I was watching that!" his tone raised. 

"What was that?" you asked in the same tone, chucking the TV remote at his chest. Jesse's frown deepened, whispering a silent ow, while he rubbed the sore spot of impact. 

"What was what?" Jesse asked indignantly, emphasizing his t's. 

"Back then," you stated obviously. "In the kitchen?" you pointed at that direction, trying to get your point accross. 

Jesse let out a sarcastic snort. "Just stated the obvious." he replied more calmly this time, his eyes locked in on yours. 

"Well," your chest puffed out as you took in a deep breath, the motion catching Jesse's gaze, making his mind briefly wander off to somewhere else. "It was rude." To which Jesse merely scoffed at as a response. 

Silence fell over both of you, the tension grew and a frown resurfaced on Jesse's features again. "Look, I-" he paused to clear his throat, also recollecting his thoughts in the meantime. "I'm sorry. I'll be nicer next time." If there will be one, Jesse wanted to add but he would be treading on thin ice after that. 

"You seem to like him." he pointed out, taking in a few seconds to study your face, yet he couldn't really put a finger on the emotion painted on it, it almost gave off a vibe of uncertainty. "How long you two been goin' out?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Not long." you shrugged, tucking a strand behind your ear, then rubbing the base of your neck. That is your tell when you're nervous, Jesse noted silently to himself. "Third date was last night." 

Ah. Jesse's brows rose momentarily, the corners of his lips turning down and h,e let out a soft hum. He was aware of what happened on the third date, however, he wasn't expecting for him to have slept over. Maybe it was growing more serious faster than he thought. The monster inside him grew, its angry green vines tightening around his heart, causing his brain to paint pictures of you and him tangled in between the sheets, touching you in places Jesse could only do so in a wet dream. 

"Well, I hope it goes well." he lied through his teeth, topping it off with a smile, in hopes of sounding more sincere. 

It had, much to Jesse's disappointed, but he tried to keep that to himself, save for the sneering looks he'd throw Andrew's way the times he'd show up at your guys' apartment. All the while, Jesse tried to keep his distance the following weeks, because to himself that was the best course of action, which was turning out to be a terrible idea. Because he wasn't a regular friend, and stepping down to that status seemed to be hurting him more than not being able to be your boyfriend. In the midst of it all, he was also hurting you, it was painted on your face every day. Mainly the reason why he'd be cooped up in his room on his free time, to avoid seeing the hurt look on your face. 

Jesse was no stranger when it came to addiction, you were his vice. The most addictive drug he had ever been on; his highest highs, his lowest lows, and he was going through major withdrawal symptoms. Avoiding you like that was doing serious damage to his psyche. He was trying his damnest to detach himself from you. However, the harder he tried, the more he felt the urge to crawl into your bed, curl up against you, hold you tight until his body would mold into yours and the two of you would finally become one in the most literal sense.

Saturday morning had rolled, and Jesse having woken up first, made himself a cup of coffee. He had dragged his chair right next to the open kitchen window, blowing smoke from his cigarette outside - you hated it when he smoked it up inside the house, especially in the kitchen. After one long drag, he took a sip of coffee. Cigarettes and coffee, breakfast of champions, he thought and chuckled dryly to himself. 

"Jesse, we've talked about this before." your voice sounded defeated. 

"Cigarette's outside the house." he argued. 

"Barely." you scoffed with a shake of your head, moving to open the hood fan to get rid of any lingering smells. No reply came from him, but him putting out his cigarette when he was barely finished with it, was enough of an answer for you. 

After a quick inspection around the kitchen, you realized the sink was empty, no dirty dishes cluttering the basin, all counters and kitchen table empty, too. "No breakfast today?" you mused, unable to hide the sadness in your voice. 

Jesse replied indifferently with a grunt. "Nah, fridge was empty." 

Exasperated, you let out a huff through flared nostrils. "What's up with you?" 

That question made Jesse stir in his seat. "Dunno what you mean." he replied with a curt jerk of his shoulders. 

You move to stand near him, leaning forward to catch his avoidant gaze. "Jesse, we barely talk? And even when we do it feels as if it's done out of necessity. Also, you never," your tone increased and you followed with a pause, just for the added dramatics. "Ever, forget our weekend breakfasts." Jesse's silence fell heavy between the two of you, a disappointed scowl gracing your face. That's what upset Jesse even more, he'd rather have you be annoyed, angry at him, than disappointed. Anything. Anything but disappointed, because he feared that's when he would start losing you. 

Torn at the turn of events, Jesse was beginning to second guess his method and it seemed he was left with the only option he had left. That, of course, was to come clean, which was much easier in theory. 

"Don't you have like a date to go to?" Jesse asked, dismissing your previous comments entirely. His lips were formed in a tight line, he was unsure of why he was asking that, knowing the answer would hurt him. 

"Actually... we broke up two days ago." 

"Yeah? Why?" Jesse kept his head hung low, however he lifted his gaze to study you. There was a large hole at the hem of your shirt, it had once belonged to him and even used to be one of his favorites, up until one time it got snagged in the dryer. It had become your go to sleep attire from then on. Your finger kept tracing circles around the edges of the hole nervously. 

"Don't know, I broke up with him. It felt as if something was missing." 

"How are you feeling?" 

"Oh, I'm good." your voice brightened a bit, the usual perk in your tone almost there. "He was more bummed than me, though." you grimaced and shrugged it off. 

Jesse simply nodded in response, this time really lifting his head to properly look at you and he swore you looked as if there was something else lingering at the tip of your tongue, but you kept your lips sealed. Instead, you asked, "Wanna grab waffles?"

The drive back home was silent, the only sound in the car cabin was the occasional slurping of your lemon flavored slushy. Although, you had somewhat tried to maintain your weekend tradition, your shared breakfast seemed more forced than having a date with a guy your mom had set you up with. Without having realized you had just arrived home, Jesse had just pulled the handbrake up, the croaking of the lever breaking you out of your trance. On the way up the stairs, Jesse kept his pace up a few steps ahead of you, the soles of his Nikes screeching as they rubbed against the stairs. The flesh of your bottom lip was trapped beneath your teeth, the corners of your mouth also forming a harsh frown. A dull pain shot through you when you dug your teeth in deeper, while you tried to bury your frustration building up within. You were losing your best friend and worst part of it all was you didn't know why. 

First thing Jesse did once he set foot in, was chuck his black beanie on the hallway stand, most of his sandy brown hair was sticking out in various places in a disheveled mess, while the ones closer to his face stuck on his skin, a shade darker and wet with sweat. 

"Jesse." 

"Jesse." you repeated sternly, not accepting his low grumble of a response. 

"What?" 

You bit your lip again, the frustration brewing in your stomach making you nauseous. "You tell me." 

"There's nothing to tell." Jesse feigned confusion, again. He kicked off he shoes and trudged to the living room, plopping himself on the sofa, the old piece of furniture groaning beneath his weight. You followed in, only seconds after, each step growing more powerful as frustration turned into anger. 

"Don't play dumb with me. Tell me what's going on." you demanded as you stopped to stand in front of him, between the couch and coffee table. 

Jesse's forehead wrinkled in exasperation, his icy blues bore into you. Though, just for two seconds and they fell back on his lap. 

"You've been avoiding me, and don't you dare," you pointed a finger at him just as his head snapped up, his mouth moving to say something, "Don't," you paused again, closing your eyes and exhaling, "Don't you dare deny it." 

Jesse sat there stunned and accepted your outburst in silence, because he wasn't dumb to not know it was well deserved. Your eyes left his form and darted up to the ceiling, feeling the corners tickling with fresh, warm tears that threatened to spill. "I feel... I feel like I'm losing you. I'm losing us." you cried into the ceiling. "I'm losing us and it hurts." 

"Yeah, well loving you hurts me more." Jesse snapped, jumping up to his feet. "Every day hurts because I'll always be your best friend, your-your r-roommate," he spat those words out as if they were poison. "It fucking hurts how you try and find happiness in other guys, yet it never works out. I-I could make it work out, but you won't give me a chance." he was yelling at this point, his neck red and strained while his voice ripped through.

Dumbstruck you stand there with your mouth agape, your mind in a state of delirium upon hearing Jesse's confession. Your stomach was doing somersaults and if you felt nauseous before, then now you definitely felt like throwing up. It seemed as if it was your body's natural response at that point. 

"I want to be happy for you, I do. Call me selfish all you want, but I can't stand you looking happy in somebody else's arms - like that bitch, Andrew." Jesse spat his name. 

"I wasn't." you whisper, and upon Jesse's silence you continue, "I wasn't happy with him, I mean. That's why I broke up with him; because in every thing he did, I kept searching for you in him and it was never going to work out." you confess, waiting for Jesse's response. His eyes darted left and right as he was trying to process your own confession. 

He sized you up, lingering for a little longer on your lips. "So what does this mean?" he asked lowly, voice tired and hoarse. 

"Just fucking kiss me, dumbass." 

In light speed, his lips came crashing down on yours; teeth clashing and all. It was by no means what you would usually describe as a perfect kiss, though it was full of raw and pent up emotion, so much so that you were flying on cloud nine. With every move of his lips against yours, he unleashed the sea of emotions into you; that way he wasn't drowning anymore, that way he could finally stay afloat with you by his side. 

"I love you too." you whisper softly against his lips, before pulling him in for another kiss, more gentle this time. You use your body to push his back down on the couch, landing with a loud thump. Automatically, your legs are on either side of his hips, your core nestled against his thigh when you opened up your legs to shift yourself to sit closer to him on his lap. Your hands held on his cheeks while you moved to kiss every inch of his face, your thumbs caressing loving shapes on his skin. Settling with a ghost of a kiss on the corner of his lips, you move to nuzzle your nose against his, your foreheads touching. 

"I want you, so bad." his hot breath fanned against your face, it tickled your lips and you closed the gap between you to satisfy the itch. Slowly, but surely, you felt yourself melting into him with each passing second, with each swipe of his curious tongue against yours. Jesse's kisses were like a drug, and now that you had finally had your first taste, you were already hooked. His cheeks burned hot beneath your palms, also loving the contrast of the soft skin on his cheekbones, with the roughness of his four day stubble. Reluctantly, you moved your hands away from his face, resting them on his shoulders, massaging them and moving to do the same on his chest and then back up. 

Meanwhile, Jesse's hands were on your lower back, too hesitant to move down to squeeze the slopes of your ass. "I want you to touch me." 

Jesse groaned, his hands immediately taking heed of your command. While his hands were preoccupied, he moved down to attack your neck with a trail of blazing kisses, stopping once he had found that sweet spot that had you writhing on his lap, where it turned into biting and sucking on supple skin, selfishly branding your skin purple. All the while, your hands slowly crept down his abdomen and up his shirt, memorizing how every inch of him felt. Thinking that it would be easier to do so without a shirt on, your hands found their way on his hoodie, peeling it off his shoulders. Jesse abandoned his post on your neck for a few seconds, so he could pull his t-shirt off his head, his upper body completely bare; he was all lean muscle. 

"Take off yours too." he mumbled, his hungry mouth attatched to your neck once more. 

"Mhm, no." you giggled as he playfully bit you. 

"Not fair, mine's off." Jesse complained. His deep, gravelly voice rumbled against your skin, causing electrifying bursts of pleasure to vibrate thoughout your entire body. His hands were off your ass, already hitching your sweater up, his nimble fingers moving up to trace the outline of your unclad breasts. "Shit, no bra?" he bit his lip and broke into a wolfish grin, making heat rise all the way up to the tips of your ears. 

Your hands abandoned their resting place on his chest and moved above your head. Jesse lowered his head, but his big blue eyes stared up at you his pupils blown out from all the love and deep want he held for you. Ever so tantalizingly slow, he pulled your sweater up inch by inch, placing hot open mouth kisses on each inch of skin slowly revealed. Once the garment was fully off your head and on the living room floor somewhere, he buried his face in the valley of your breasts, his nose rubbing against the mounts of flesh, as he took a hardened nipple in his mouth. 

Not once did his eyes leave yours, his powerful gaze along with his gentle assault on your nub had you moaning and clenching around nothing. His lips curled around your nipple sucking it even further into his mouth, all the while his tongue curled around it. The pent up need and desire was accumulating in your chest and it felt like a nuclear reactor about to go off. Jesse moved to pull back from your breast, only after softly biting and grazing his teeth on your soft flesh, causing you to take in broken breaths. 

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" he said and rested his chin on your chest. His eyes were wide open, literally and figuratively, so open he was allowing you to look in to all those feelings he had tried to keep hidden; for the first time in years he had the chance to be really open with you without any fear whatsoever. At a loss for words, you simply pulled him in for a searing kiss, fingers coming up to tangle at the roots at the back of his head, his own mimicking your actions. Too lost in the moment, you started grinding down on him, feeling him harden through his baggy sweats. 

"Let me help you with that, hm?" you whispered hotly in his ear, biting on his earlobe and tugging harshly, earning a shocked moan from him. You pulled back just in time to see his face flushing a beet red and you smiled smugly. You took your own sweet time as you slid off his lap, not wasting any second to leave his chest and abs unattended, making sure his skin was marked. Teasingly, you halted for a moment, your lips hovering over his clothed length for a couple of seconds before you made contact with him, mouthing his cock over the cotton fabric of his sweats. His thighs had now replaced his shoulders as your resting place, and you made sure you massaged him as your curious hands worked through their ascent towards his waistline. Immediately, your fingers hooked around the elastic bands of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down with a swift movement; Jesse slightly moving his hips upwards to assist you. 

His hardened cock sprang free and you took a moment to drink in the sight of him, all spread out on the couch, flushed and naked. Your thighs rubbed together, the heat in your core increasing just by looking at him.  Wanting to savor this moment, you started slowly kissing your way up his inner thighs, until the tip of your nose bumped against his balls. Teasingly, you took one in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. A strained curse was heard above you and you lifted your eyes to see that Jesse's were shut, his face contorted in pleasure. Your hand was wrapped around his shaft, idly moving up and down in a circular motion, coming all the way to his tip to collect the bead of precum, and rubbing it all along his length as you stroked your way back down. Your mouth found its way on his other ball, repeating the same rolling action with your tongue, before moving to put both in your mouth. 

With a lewd sound, you pulled away, a string of drool connecting his balls and your mouth. Collecting more spit, you spat on his tip and slathered his girth with it. You took a moment to examine the sight in front of you, moving to lock gazes with Jesse, both of you looking at each other with lust blown eyes. Biting your lip, you teased your way to his tip, beginning to suckle on it gently. After a few seconds of only paying attention to his head, Jesse was growing impatient, trying to thrust himself further into your mouth, "Fuck, you're killing me." he let out a high pitched whimper. 

Almost sorry for teasing him, you bob your head up and down, easing him on gently against your tongue, allowing your jaw to get used to his size as you took him deeper, inch by inch. Finally, with a low hum your nose bumped against his pelvis the moment you took him all in. You'd never been so full. Pulling away for a much needed breath of air, you returned to the task ahead of you, with much more vigor, suppressing your gags as you rhythmically bobbed your head up and down his shaft; making sure to hollow out your cheeks for extra suction. 

Jesse was a whimpering mess and his sounds took you back to that day you had overheard him pleasuring himself, the memories of that day fueling the fire burning within you. Your own moans vibrated against his cock, making his whimpering moans grow in volume. The wet patch on your underwear just reminded you of how much you also longed for his touch, but you kept on gowing until you felt your jaw numbing, only then did you pull away. 

Your lips urgently met his in a frantic, yet passionate kiss. "I want to feel your lips on mine." you whispered lowly. 

For a second, that left Jesse confused, given how he was just kissing you, until realization finally clicked and he immediately sprang to action. Your positions were now reversed, helping Jesse unbutton your jeans as his trembling hands struggled. "I'm sorry, I'm a little nervous." he apologized, seemingly embarrassed. 

"Me too." you reassured, unzipping your pants and letting them peel your jeans off of you; the pair of pants meeting its fate on the floor along with all the other discarded items of clothing. You were left in just some old pink cotton hipster briefs; your choice of underwear clearly showing that you hadn't been expecting this turn of events. Though, to Jesse you still looked hot, hell, he'd think the same if you even wore a sack of potatoes. He gulped loudly, his eyes transfixed on the large wet spot in the middle of your undies; God, you were soaked.  

Unlike you, he skipped the teasing entirely, diving straight into work, ripping your panties off of you and delving into your pussy. He was eating you like a man starved, nose buried up all up in your pussy, constricting his airflow, but he didn't care, he was ready to suffocate. Just then, he made it his life's mission; to die nose deep in your needy pussy, the thought bringing him utter bliss. With just one taste of you, he was already drunk on your taste. 

He hummed against your center, his tongue moving in circles around your swollen clit in a steady motion that was bringing you closer  and closer to seeing stars. Breaking away for a much needed breath of air, he angled your hips forward closer to the edge, throwing your legs up wide and open. He kneeled a bit further, taking a mental picture of the sight in front of him. "I'll never get tired of seeing this." he moaned, angling himself lower to proceed on pleasuring you. His tongue lapped up all your juices and slid in and out of you; your soft muscles tightening around him. You glanced down on him, noticing how his right arm was moving up and down stroking himself while he ate you out. His voice vibrated against you in a low moan, and you felt your thighs quake as you were nearing to the edge. 

"Please, I need you." you begged, tugging at his hair in a motion for him to stop. Funnily, Jesse seemed to be more disappointed than you, not being able to get you off at least once before he was inside you, but if you were so willing to forgo that part, then he didn't mind; anything to keep you happy. 

Soon enough, Jesse found himself sitting on the couch once more with you straddling his lap. Your hand moved in between you, grabbing on the base of his dick, angling his tip right at your entrance. Given how wet you were, you sank down on him with ease, and you sat unmoving for a few seconds relishing in the way he filled you up just right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Jesse's hands found their way on the flesh of your ass, squeezing you lightly and moving to grind your hips against his in a motion for you to start moving. With no further need for instructions, your hips began rocking up and down in a familiar motion on his length. 

Jesse's right arm snaked around your waist, holding you down and pulling you in, flush against his chest, while his other hand moved to cup the side of your face to bring you in for a kiss. It was the gentlest kiss you'd exchanged thus far, his lips slow and deliberate against yours. You moaned against his lips, your clit occasioanlly rubbing against his pelvis, each time you gound your hips as you came down on his cock, causing your walls to tighten around him as you were a few steps away from nearing your release. Jesse was too, given how he couldn't contain his moans and whimpers, accompanied by a series of praise for you. 

"You ride me so well, baby." Baby, such an ordinary word, yet it had you reeling with a flurry of emotions. You didn't mind though, in fact you should get used to that now. 

Your ass slapped against his thighs rhythmically, the set pace quickening with each descent. 

"Oh, God baby, I'm so close." you whined and pressed your forehead against his. You stopped going up and down and started to grind your hips against his, seeking the much needed friction on your clit to bring you over the edge. 

"Let it out for me, let it all out." Jesse whispered before he pulled you in for yet another kiss. Angry red scratches marked his chest and you dug them even deeper once your hips stalled their movement. Your orgasm ripped though you in a hot white flash and your thighs trembled with pleasure. 

Not given even a second to recollect yourself, Jesse gripped your hips so hard they would be bruised tomorrow. Angling you a bit higher, his hips began pounding into you in a fervent pace. Your hands steadied themselves around his neck, your fingers locked in around the roots of his hair. They were a bit sweaty, but so were yours and you truly didn't mind. All you cared about at that moment was to get to see him come. His breath came out in broken gasps, mingled in with some moans here and there and beads of sweat collected on the corners of his brows. Overstimulated from your previous orgasm, you felt your walls tighten around him once more, a telltale sign of the fire igniting within you once more. 

One of his hands left your hip and moved up to brush away loose stands that were sticking to your sweaty forehead, his touch featherlight and sweet, in contrast to the way he was fucking into you like a madman. "I'm gonna come." he groaned. 

So lost in bliss, all you could do was nod. His pelvic bone was hitting against your clit, just the right way for you to clench around him and come undone once more. You came so hard your breath was knocked over and you felt like passing out. Jesse hissed, your cunt still pulsed around him and it sent him over the edge with a groan. His already tight grip tightened even more the moment he spilled into you, coating your walls white with his cum. After a few seconds, his moans died out and his head slumped back on the couch and looked up to the ceiling. "Shit that was..." 

"That was amazing." you both spoke at the same time and broke into a smile. 

You were still on him, he was still in you and if it weren't for his cum dripping out as his cock softened you would've stayed like that a little longer. However, afraid to make a mess, Jesse got up to grab a clean washcloth you wipe you both clean. Once you were both all wiped up, you laid down on the couch in a tangled mess of naked limbs. 

Both of you remained quiet, there was no need to say anything for the moment was perfect as it was; you on his chest, hearing the steady drum of his heart, him drawing soothing patterns on your back. Seconds after, though it was Jesse who broke the silence as a thought occured to him. 

"Whose room are we gonna sleep now?" 

tags: @madzzz0797 @nika-sophie05

[joongernaut]

glitter

⇢ pairing(s): park seonghwa x reader

⇢ genres: childhood friends to almost strangers to lovers, SMUT, fluff, a little angst but literally just a smidge

⇢ warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (i could not help myself with this one), subby-ish seonghwa because we love desperate men around here, oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl, reader gets called 'noona' once, creampie (i simply forgot to write in a condom but practice safe sex everyone!)

⇢ word count: 3955

⇢ author's note: well this took a bit longer than expected but i was able to proofread and tie up the loose ends on this fic last night and now here we are! this is also my way of wiggling into writing for ateez more as they are one of my favorite groups 😁 also the song title is based off the song glitter by jamilah barry <3 enjoyyy

✧

“Did you know your little boyfriend is back in town?”

The question stopped you in mid-sip of your cup of tea as you peered over the rim of the mug at your roommate, Hongjoong. He peered back over his own mug with a little smirk on his face and a lift of his eyebrow.

Slowly bringing the mug down you let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, I’ve only heard the news about a hundred times. Kinda hard to forget, y’know,” You bit back with a sarcastic smile, “Also, he was never my boyfriend. Why does everyone keep saying that shit?”

“Hm, I really don't know,” Hongjoong said with a shrug, taking a drawn out sip from his coffee before speaking again, “It’s not like the guy followed you around like a lost puppy before and you let him. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you two didn't tie the knot right after high school, I was so sure you would be childhood sweethearts turned old, disgusting married couple.”

Hongjoong hissed as your foot kicked at his shin from under the table, glaring at him before you finally downed the contents of your mug. “God, you all are so annoying! First, my own family and now you? I don’t care if he’s in town, okay? We haven't talked in like 5 years and I highly doubt that I’d see him anyways. It’s whatever.” You said exasperatedly, chair scraping against the floor as you got up to place the empty mug into the kitchen sink.

“What if you do see him, though?” Hongjoong asked, the question once again catching you off guard. “What if he hasn't forgotten about you in the slightest in those years you two have spent apart?” He pressed on with a pointed look, watching your mouth open and close as you blinked over at him.

Park Seonghwa, from what you recalled years ago, was a very sweet boy.

You remember the first day you had met him, walking into your elementary homeroom class clinging to his mother with a thumb in his mouth and fat tears rolling down his face as he refused to let her go.

You were only 2 years older than him but still had felt the overwhelming need to protect him from any harm. And that's also how you two became close friends.

When Seonghwa would fall down and scrape his knee or elbow, you were there telling him not to cry while dusting him off and helping him get back up. When he wanted to be like the bigger kids, who were taller and strong enough to get on certain parts of the playground, you were there to encourage him and give him a boost. And when his eyes sparkled with curiosity, wanting to learn more about this and that as he gained new interests, you were there to talk and listen to him ramble on and on about anything and everything.

That Seonghwa was the one you hadn’t seen in years. You had been really good friends leading all the way up to high school and then slowly drifted apart during that time. Once college had begun, it was like he dropped off the face of the earth and you didn't hear from him for a while.

It wasn't like you to be stuck on anybody for too long, you watched many people come and go into your life before. But Seonghwa wasn't just anybody and you couldn't help but wonder about the crybaby often and what he had been up to lately.

Okay so maybe you did care just a little bit that he had come back to town. But did it really matter? After all, neither of you really made the effort to reach out to one another after going your separate ways.

You shook your head, pushing those fleeting thoughts away before you reminisced too deeply. “Like I said, I highly doubt it.” You mumbled with a shrug before turning away, a part of you truly doubtful while a sliver of yourself remained hopeful.

✧

You were home alone the very next day. Usually Hongjoong would be the one to stay inside while you were out and about but he had run off to god knows where and he insisted that you stay at the apartment to relax. “Because you deserve it.” He had told you with a wink.

So, naturally, you were suspicious.

Not that Hongjoong was an untrustworthy person or anything but this almost, overly-nice front he had put on since this morning was just a little off-putting. Before you could really begin to question him, he had already flown out of the door and was barely responding to your text messages.

He did make sure to tell you to listen out for the door, however, as he said he was ‘expecting something’. You had almost forgotten about whatever that ‘something’ would be, hours into the afternoon, until you heard the sound of knocking coming from the front door of your apartment.

Dreading on leaving the comfort of your spot on the couch, you heaved a sigh before getting up from your seat and dragged yourself over to the door to answer it. “Hello-” You swung the door open and were immediately greeted by someone's chest in your line of vision. Your eyes traveled upward and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Y/N… It’s good to see you again.”

The man before you looked much different from the last time you had seen him. But even with the big and little changes in his appearance and how he seemed to carry himself differently, you could still tell exactly who he was just based on the look in his eyes.

“Seonghwa,” You gaped, still not entirely sure if you were seeing him in front of you or just hallucinating after watching TV all day, “H-How… How did you…?” You trailed off with furrowed brows as he gave you a sheepish look in return.

“Ah, sorry, this is rather impromptu of me. I bumped into Hongjoong a few days ago when I first got back and he mentioned you two were roommates so…” Now it was his turn to trail off as a small blush formed on his cheeks. You mentally cursed at Hongjoong, finally putting the pieces together that he had set this all up. You didn't know whether to kiss him or kill him.

“I see,” You muttered, reminding yourself to shoot the little mastermind a colorfully worded text later, “Well, please, don't be shy. Come in, come in.” You insisted, a smile spreading across your face genuinely as you stepped to the side for him to enter.

Seonghwa smiled back gently, a sight that made your heart soar as you saw a flash of the boy you used to know appear for a split second before he stepped over the threshold.

✧

It had been hours of just talking and catching up with Seonghwa. You had learned that he was finishing up his last year of college soon, reaching to earn his degree in astronomy, and planned to move out of his dorm and into a place of his own nearby. The university he had attended was well out into the city, roughly 8 hours away, meanwhile you had attended your local college in town and graduated with your art degree about a year or so ago.

“Definitely not as cool as studying the stars and planets, though. I’m like the definition of a starving artist.” You chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly, facing Seonghwa as you propped your elbow over the back of the couch and tucked your legs underneath yourself.

Seonghwa had turned to face you as well but a bit awkward in body language, one leg crossed over the other as his hands remained in his lap stiffly. “Ah, it's not all that interesting. Trust me. Once math is involved, then you’ll see what I mean.” He said, earning another laugh from you that made his shoulders less tense and a fond smile spread on his face.

“You were always the artistic type, though. That’s something I’ve always liked and admired about you. Never afraid to be yourself… Just being able to think of something so creatively, from a vastly different perspective than anyone else, and turning it into something so beautiful. That’s always been pretty cool to me.” He went on, leaving you a bit stunned at his words.

“Hwa…” The old nickname slipped from your lips in a whispered tone and his eyes found yours, locking onto them as a few seconds passed by in stretched silence. Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak again, hesitating at first before licking his lips, and asked, “Can I tell you something?”

Words felt like they would fail you right now so you simply nodded for him to continue. Seonghwa swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking again. “I’m really happy that you still remember me. I know that's silly to say because it's only been a couple of years but I wouldn't know how to feel if you acted as if I was a complete stranger…” He said, looking away with an almost pained expression despite the smile still on his face.

“I would never! We were important to each other back then.” You told him, scooting closer to him on the couch as you reached out to place your hand over his own. Seonghwa’s eyes shot down toward the movement, feeling the warmth of you from your body’s proximity and your fingers touching him so delicately, then back up to your face. “And now? He questioned, hopeful, as he placed one of his hands over yours and squeezed.

You squeezed his hand back and sighed. “I was scared of the same thing… that you would forget about me or pretend like you did. Or you would see me and want nothing to do with me so I figured I’d try to avoid you... But after you showed up and we talked, it feels like you never really left at all.” You admitted, feeling Seonghwa subtly shuffle closer to you.

“I thought about you almost all of the time during the years we spent not with each other, Y/N. I don't think I could forget you even if I tried.” He admitted back, similar to the words Hongjoong had said to you the other day. That had to have been something Hongjoong had heard him say when they bumped into each other and you mentally noted to punch the man whenever he got home.

Right now, however, you were going to focus on Seonghwa and what you wanted to do next.

Your hand came up to wrap around the back of his neck and he froze, his body stiffening as you leaned in close until your lips were a breath away from his own. “Tell me if this is okay. I want to show you how important you still are to me.” You murmured, the movement of your lips lightly brushing against Seonghwa’s causing him to exhale shakily.

A quick nod was all the confirmation you needed before diving in, catching his mouth in a deep kiss. You untangled your other hand from his lap and brought it up to join the one around his neck as you pulled him closer, crawling your way into his lap in the process until you were straddling one of his thighs.

Seonghwa’s body shook slightly underneath you, his hands hovering over your sides as if he were hesitating to touch. You pulled away briefly, nibbling at his bottom lip before tugging it and making him groan. “You can touch me.” You said, sensing his hesitation, and started to lick the seam of his parted lips.

He let you in with no resistance, the feeling of your tongue against his wet and probing as his hands gripped onto your waist tightly.

You licked in to Seonghwa’s mouth eagerly as you started to move forward until he was effectively pushed onto his back with ease. Feeling breathless, you parted from his mouth again to catch yourself but started to trail your lips from the side of his face to his neck where you began to bite and suck at the sensitive skin there.

“Y/N…” He gasped before letting out a whiny moan. Your eyes flitted up to his face to take in the sight of Seonghwa— already looking debauched and fucked out, and you barely even started. “What do you want, Hwa?” You mumbled against his skin and he shivered at the sensation.

“Whatever you want. You take the lead. Please.” Seonghwa replied in a strained voice, holding onto you as if you were a lifeline.

When you suddenly pulled away from him and stood up, Seonghwa shot up in panic wondering if he had said something wrong until you put your hand out for him to take wordlessly.

He kept his mouth shut and took it, letting you guide him all the way to your bedroom where you closed the door behind him with a click of the lock, officially sealing your fate together.

“You told me to take the lead, right?” You questioned once you were facing Seonghwa again, slowly approaching him. Your finger traced small shapes onto his chest as you backed him up into the bed, the back of his knees hitting the edge and making him sit down.

His ass hadn't been on the bed for more than 3 seconds before Seonghwa slid off of it and onto his knees in front of you, peering up with wide expectant eyes. “Yes. You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll enjoy anything you give me.” His tone of voice sounded airy as he uttered those words and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair as he leaned into your touch.

“You’re already on your knees for me… surely you already had something in mind.” You smirked at him teasingly, watching him shift under your gaze. “Can I…?” He trailed off questioningly as his eyes flickered quickly from your face to the crotch of your sweatpants and back up again. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach seeing how eager he was to please. Eager to please you.

You tugged your sweatpants down until they dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, kicking away the article of clothing before stepping closer to Seonghwa. His breathing had gotten shallow once his eyes fell onto your panty-covered pussy, the thin layer of the material leaving little to the imagination. The small wet spot he could see near the center made his cock twitch, straining against his pants.

Seonghwa’s hands gently grazed along your ankles first, gradually going higher from there to the back of your knees and up the back up your thighs. A small shiver raked through you when his fingers traced the lining of your underwear, slipping under the band a little as he grabbed ahold of your ass.

“A-Ah… Hwa…” You moaned softly when he pressed you forward into his face and placed a lingering kiss onto your mound right where your clit was. You took a step closer to him, pressing his face fully into your pussy now, and what little hold he had of his composure immediately slipped.

Seonghwa groaned as he buried his face into every crevice he could fit into, his long tongue rolling out of his mouth so he could run it along the moist material messily. “Knew you’d taste good,” He mumbled against the inside of your thigh, “Smell good, too. I could only dream about something like this happening in real life.” He added before latching his lips onto your clit and sucking the bud through the fabric. This plus the friction of your panties still covering your pussy was enough to make your body lurch forward a bit.

The back of Seonghwa’s head was now pressed against the edge of the bed, pinned between the comforter as you began to grind against his face.

“You should've told me sooner. I think I like seeing you like this.” You told him with a breathless giggle, swiveling your hips as Seonghwa tried to follow every movement to the best of his ability. He didn't mind it. You were using him to pleasure yourself and he couldn't be any more happier.

His grip on your ass had tightened when he felt you begin to back up and you rubbed your thumb against his wrist to make him loosen his hold. “I just wanna move onto the bed, Hwa.” You reassured him and he reluctantly let go. Despite not being completely bare, the evidence of your arousal shined like a gloss on Seonghwa’s bruised lips when you got a good look at him.

You crawled onto your bed, peeling your shirt and dampened panties off before throwing them somewhere you’d worry about later, and waited for Seonghwa to join you. Realizing your lack of underwear now, he followed along until he was stripped bare and crawled slowly up the bed until he was situated between your spread thighs.

Seonghwa’s eyes stayed locked onto your own as he trailed kisses along the inside of your thigh, bringing his face closer and closer until he could finally taste you without restriction or barriers.

The first swipe of Seonghwa’s tongue starting slowly from your hole up to your clit had your legs spreading out wider for him. And when his plump lips wrapped around your clit sucking earnestly, you felt your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you reached out to grip his hair roughly.

Seonghwa groaned, muffled by his ministrations, and the vibration of it made your hips buck up. He unlatched himself from your clit briefly only to laser focus his attention on dipping his tongue into your hole to lap up whatever juices started to leak from it.

“Hwa,” His name came out in a shuddered moan as you placed your hands on his shoulders and squeezed to get his attention, “I really need you.”

Seonghwa’s response came delayed, spending a couple extra minutes using his tongue to simply savor your taste before he made his way up your body where his mouth came crashing into yours. “You have me, baby.” He panted between open-mouthed kisses as his hand came up between your bodies to grab ahold of his throbbing cock.

“Do I?” You smirked against his mouth, nudging his hand out of the way so you could wrap your own around his length. Seonghwa gasped lightly, bucking up into the tight ring of your fist. “You think you could switch places with me, baby?” You purred as you stroked his cock languidly. It didn't take long for him to carefully flip the two of you over and have you hovering above him.

“Fuck, you're–” Seonghwa breathed out, eyes glued to your face as you rubbed the tip of his dick through your folds, “you’re just as beautiful as I always remembered but this is truly a sight.” He said while trailing his hands along your thighs then higher up to your hips where he held onto them as you lined him up to your entrance.

The breach stung a bit once you started to sink down onto him and Seonghwa rubbed his thumbs gently into your hip bones as you took your time taking him all the way inside of you. “I’m starting to believe that crush everyone keeps saying you had on me.” You sighed out once your pelvic bone met his, moving your hips slowly in small circles as you relished the way Seonghwa felt so deep inside of you.

“Have,” Seonghwa corrected as he tried to keep himself still under your movements, twitching every time he felt your walls constrict around his cock, “I think it was obvious to everyone but you.” He licked at his lips before tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when you lifted yourself up momentarily only to sink yourself back down onto him.

Picking up a steady pace now, not going too fast or too slow, you simply enjoyed the way Seonghwa stretched you out and filled you up with every movement of your hips. A whimper-like sound punched out of him when you came back down just a little bit harder, clenching around his cock, and you cooed at the noise. “Poor baby. Am I at least making it up to you well?” You pouted at him with a tilt of your head, smoothing a hand down his chest soothingly.

“Noona,” Seonghwa whined, your body immediately stiffening at the sound of his voice sounding so wrecked, “Please, please go faster.”

You obliged without question, deciding that you would have a chance to tease him another time. You pressed your hand down flat on Seonghwa’s chest and used it as leverage to ride him the way you knew you would both love; bouncing on his dick as he thrusted upward involuntarily to meet the action.

This helps Seonghwa to go a little bit deeper, the head of his cock brushing along your walls just right until he hits directly at the spot that has you quivering above him.

You can barely hold yourself up and soon feel your arm give out as you bow your back and press your foreheads together. “Feel s-so good, baby…” You muttered while staring into Seonghwa’s eyes. His half-lidded gaze stared back briefly before pressing your mouths together in an intimate kiss.

He then caught you off guard by starting to buck up into you, almost frantically, as he wrapped his arms around your body and pressed you to his chest. “Cum with me, please, please, please–” Seonghwa begged, seemingly right on the edge of cumming.

Thankfully you weren't too far behind him with the way he had started to desperately fuck into you. And with the remaining body strength you could muster, you rode him with just as much urgency while still pressed closely to his chest.

Seonghwa had been the first to tip over, pleading over and over again until his voice became slightly hoarse. He stilled himself deep inside of you before you felt warmth filling you up in spurts, a pretty drawn out moan falling from his lips as you clenched around him tightly and followed suit.

You whimpered as Seonghwa helped you ride it out, his hands placed on your waist to help you grind down against him and giving your clit some added friction.

Feeling boneless, but most of all satiated, you finally collapsed against him as he started to rub along your back and traced over your spine. The delicate feeling of his fingers sent a tingle throughout your being that you could only chalk up to the resurfacing of those feelings you had kept hidden so deep within.

Seonghwa attempted to sit up and you grumbled in protest causing a laugh to escape him. “We have to get cleaned up.” He reasoned but you only clung on to him tighter as he rose and had you seated on his lap. “Will you stay afterwards?” You asked quietly, hope laced into your tone with a hint of vulnerability. Because now that you had him in your life again you would be damned to see him go so quickly.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere without you again.” Seonghwa said, leaning forward to press his lips chastely against your forehead before looking at you with eyes full of love and sincerity.

Those same eyes that always held the stars in them that sparkled like glitter and reassured you that he would be right by your side for as long as you would let him.

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner 

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen. 

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s. 

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.  

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together. 

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening. 

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.” 

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago. 

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table. 

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was. 

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.” 

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment. 

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all. 

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said. 

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face. 

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered. 

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.” 

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs. 

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable. 

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night. 

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight. 

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food. 

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking. 

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

 Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well. 

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time. 

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this. 

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did. 

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents. 

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly. 

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker!Steve au

Part 3: The Runaway

Masterlist

18+Only, adult themes, mention of an abusive relationship, mention of cheating (not on reader), mention of violence, alcohol consumption, yearning, reader uses she/they pronouns, it's the late 90's, but also time doesn't really exist in Hawkeye. Platonic Stobin Forever, biker!Hopper, and biker!Eddie. Reader has very specific skills and backstory that verges on OC.

Word Count: 5.4k Playlist

A/N: I was going to call this a very self-indulgent chapter, but they all are, lmao. This is my love letter to biker Steve and my yearning to go to one of Hopper's barbecues with the rest of the gang. There will be a future wlw relationship for Robin with a woman worthy of her love, and we'll see more of Wayne in the next part. Trying to decide if I should give biker Eddie someone too, but for now, we have this. I love those of you who have decided to join me in this world, truly. Also, the playlist is a work in progress, and if you stumble upon a song that makes you think of biker Steve, or this story in general, please let me know!

-----

Groaning as he rolled over in bed to face the green numbers on his digital alarm clock, Steve felt a strange satisfaction at the fact that he hadn't tossed and turned all night.  Thumbing sleep from his eyes, he felt around the nightstand, and cursed under his breath to note that it was barely daybreak, and he was out of smokes. He knew the gas station would be open, and then immediately wondered if you would be there.

He tried to blink the thought away, desperate not to make thinking about you first thing in the morning a habit.  Habits like that were hard for him to break once things inevitably went to shit.

On his back, he stared at the ceiling, recalling bits of a dream that were still floating behind his eyes.  The images of the family he kept having were so vivid, he expected to roll over and hold the woman next to him and call her his wife, but that side of the bed had not been warm in years. He’d never had the urge to marry, and he certainly didn’t have any children.  But when he slept? It was as if he lived a double life. Tears built on his lash line at the memory of one of the young girls holding his leg and calling him daddy, it made him shoot up into a sitting position with a jolt.  

“Shake it off, Harrington,” he mumbled to himself.  

Hissing at a sudden sharp pain in his knee, he made his way to the kitchen in his polka dot boxers, scratching his head with a yawn.  Robin had been staying with him for a few months after her breakup, and it was the happiest he’d been in a while. There used to be dishes piled up in the sink, but now there was nothing but a single Chinese takeout container on the kitchen table and a pot on the stove with Velveeta cheese caked to the insides.  

He’d thought about getting a smaller place or another roommate, but the rent Eddie was charging him was dirt cheap, and he’d surprised himself with how much he liked taking care of the yard and the domesticity of it all.  He only wished he had someone to share it with.

The first thing he did was turn on the tiny 6-inch, countertop television near the toaster so that there could be some noise; the early morning silence was deafening, it made him uneasy.  The only thing showing on all four channels was the news, announcing more rain over the weekend.  One newscaster was talking about a rash of women disappearing around Hawkeye, but the murmuring was low, and he was busy searching around for the sustenance he needed to start his day.   

He used the French press that was already there when he moved in to make coffee, and when he opened the fridge to get the milk, there was your dish of lasagna.  Clear blue Pyrex dish staring him in the face, just one more reminder. 

It made him feel warm for a second, as if you were also in the house somewhere.  Like maybe you’d come around the corner and slip your arms around him from behind.  

He pulled back the tin foil cover to be reminded that there was only a slice left in the corner since he’d been eating it for practically every meal the past three days.  

He hadn’t set eyes on you in just as long, since the protection run with the Kings got pushed back a day and he had to cancel on his plans to pick you up and go for a ride.  

It was all for the best, really.  He wondered if it was too soon to show you what he had in mind.

But he promised he’d return the dish to you, and he needed cigarettes.

Was there a way to ask for your schedule without sounding like a stalker?

Eh, probably not.

The wall phone rang and he scratched his balls through his boxers on his way over to answer it.  He’d shaved down there just to see what it would look like, but the new growth itched like a motherfucker.  Even though it did make his dick look bigger, he’d decided to never get a sharp object so close to his sack ever again.  Unless, maybe, you were into that sort of thing.  

“Yeah? This ‘s Steve.”

It was Robin letting him know that she’d broken up with her live-in girlfriend yet again, and needed him to come and pick her up.

“You never should’ve gone and done that again, I told you,” he ran a rough hand down his face.

“I don’t need that from you right now,” she sniffed, speaking in a strained whisper.  Her voice was raspy, and she hiccupped to hold back a sob.  

This was the second time she’d tried to make things work with the newest one, Nicole or Nikelle or some shit.  They’d decided to move in together a week after they met, and the last few months had been emotional turmoil.  She hated her, she loved her, and then she hated her again.

Steve hoped that this time it stuck so that he could have his roommate back.  He got busy doing the dishes and cleaning up, whistling while he worked. 

“I’ll pull your sheets out of the closet,” he told her. “Be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

—---

“Your precious Steve is here,” Nic spat, pushing the curtain back to eye the truck pulling up to the curb.  “I suppose you told him this was all my fault?”

“I haven’t told him anything,” Robin sighed, frowning into her bag, shoving her last few belongings in.  “But I’m not the one who cheated again, am I?”

She swallowed, aching to explode, but not wanting to give her newly appointed ex the satisfaction of another tear or argument.

“Hey,” Nic took hold of her elbow, pinning her with an earnest look.  Her complexion was olive, her thick black hair buzzed short, and the bright green of her irises had a long track record of melting Robin into submission.  “You can’t hold that against me, you know I can’t help it.”

Robin scoffed, jerking out of her grasp .  “You know, I can’t believe I fell for that a second time.”

Steve was halfway up the sidewalk when Robin shuffled out of the door wearing a backpack, and carrying too big duffle bags that had clothes spilling out of the open zippers.  

“Get me out of here, “ she groaned, letting him take one of the bags from her to help.  

He caught Nic’s stare through the kitchen window and she flipped him off.  He mirrored the gesture with a wide, fake grin, hoping he’d never have to see her face again.  

Robin slid the blue Pyrex dish over while she scooted in to throw her stuff behind the seat in the extended cab.

“What’s this?” 

Steve got behind the wheel and gave a curious grunt as if he wasn’t sure.  “That’s, um, you remember when she brought the lasagna.”

Robin’s tired, puffy eyes lit up for a second.  “Interesting. You finally going to ask her out when you give it back?”

“Was thinking about it,” he put it in gear and peeled away, tires spitting gravel and dust.  He pushed the sleeves of his flannel up.  “There’s that party at Hopper’s place tonight.”

Robin sat ridgid, but her shoulders started to relax the further they got down the road. She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to invite her to a biker party as a first date? I’m sure you could do better.  What about that Italian place?”

He agreed with the sentiment, but to be completely honest, he was nervous as shit to be alone with you.  He didn’t get that way with everyone, but his heart fell out his ass with nerves every time he imagined what he’d say when he had you all to himself.  

“I guess it’s not a bad idea,” she shrugged.  “Casual, no pressure.  Better than getting stuck on an awkward, uptight dinner date.”

“I really want to take her to the old Danvers place.”

Robin twisted in her seat to stare at his profile.  “You sure she could handle that?”

“Dunno,” he got on the ramp to the freeway, rolling down his window as he went.  “But I think she’s got secrets too.”

—-----

You stood behind the worn, yellowed countertop at work that morning selling smokes and gatorade and snacks for weary workers and travelers.  A woman brought a batch of fresh sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and chocolate chip cookies every day, and they always sold out fast, so you set a turkey on wheat aside for later.  

Earlier, you’d stood at the sink in your apartment with a razor in your hand, considering shaving all of the hair off of your head.  Once the moment passed, you just stared at the blade for a long while, turning it over in your hand, wondering about its other uses.

A group of teenagers on their high school lunch break came through buying chips and beef jerky and soda to the tune of The Plimsouls singing A Million Miles Away, and while you were busy counting the loose change they paid with, you didn’t look up when the bell over the door chimed.  

You were just closing the register after the last kid when your pyrex slid into view.

He thought about leaving it further down on the counter with a note for you to find later, but then he told himself to not act like a fourteen year old.  Would you like to go on a date with me? Please check yes or no.

He had his wayfarer sunglasses on, showcasing the simplicity of a white Hanes tee, fresh pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve like an old-time greaser, and worn jeans with a hole in one knee. The rolled up sleeve revealed more of the tattoo on his bicep; it looked like traditional Sailor Jerry ink, but you couldn’t tell what.  He worked a piece of pink gum in his mouth, grinding it in his front teeth, but he didn’t say anything, he just moved the dish closer.

“Is this a robbery?” You adjusted your shirt, wondering if you looked okay.  

He cocked an eyebrow high and held it there.  “That’s right, put all the money in the dish and no one will get hurt.”

You gave a soft snort, tucking your chin to stifle a grin.

Pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to show that he had a clear sunburn line on his cheeks, he checked around the room as if it were illegal for the two of you to be talking.  Scratching his chest with the LOVE hand you noticed the motor oil stained in the creases of his knuckles.

“So, um, if you’re free tonight and you get bored or something, there’s a party, at a place out near the lake,” he paused, trying to gauge the blank expression on your face.  “I know the guy, he’s a friend of mine. Hopper, from the other night at the Blue Light.  There will be plenty of booze, he’s got a pool.  Burgers and shit.  Just a few friends but I dunno, it might be fun.”

He closed his eyes for a beat, worried he was talking way too fast.  He cupped his hands on the edge of the counter, exposing the muscles and veins on the underside of his forearms.  “Unless you have plans or something.  Thought I’d invite you cause you’re new in town and all, but if you’re busy, I get it.”

“I’m not busy,” you were quick to respond the second he gave you the chance. After he had to cancel the last time he wanted to take you somewhere, you wondered if he would ever try again.  A grandfatherly gentleman came through the door and you greeted him while he shuffled over to the coffee station.

 “Are you going?”

He made a fist and pounded the side of it lightly on the counter a few times.  “Yeah, I was thinking about stopping by to check it out.  If you want, you know, I could pick you up or something.”

Steve moved aside so that you could take the money for the older customer’s big styrofoam cup of cream and sugar coffee.

You put the quarters in the cash register with a metal clatter as you spoke.  “I think I might take my own car,” your eyes flicked to him and then down again.  “You know, just in case I hate it.”

“No, that's smart. I’lll take my own vehicle too, and then we can, you know, meet there.”

He heard how stupid the words were when they left his mouth, but it was too late.  He took the pack of reds out of his sleeve and squashed it open to pluck out a smoke to put between his lips.  

He didn’t light it, but he kept it pinned there, bobbing as he spoke. “You got a piece of paper?”

He took a pen from the collection at his elbow, and you ripped off a piece of cash register tape so that he could jot down the address to the place.

“It’s real easy.  Once you get to the end of the road, go left, and it will be about a mile down on your right.  Red mailbox, the house is tucked in the trees.” He straightened to look at what he’d written, and then bent down again to keep the pen going.  “This is my number just in case.”

The side of your mouth jerked up in a smile while you watched his profile.  “What time should I be there?”

He rolled the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other and capped the pen.  “Whenever. Around 6 or 7 if you wanna eat, but I’m sure the party will go on until late.”

“You can bring a friend if you want,” he added, praying you didn’t show up with another dude.

“I don’t have any friends,” you kept your eyes on the paper as you pulled it toward you, chuckling softly.

“That’s not true,” he turned away as he said it.  “You’ve got me.”

—-------

You thought you were lost at one point, winding through the old highway through the cornfields, but the second you found the fork in the road, you knew exactly where you were.  You hated that you’d spent almost two hours throwing clothes around your apartment trying to decide what to wear.

“He’s just some dude,” you mumbled to yourself, fixing your hair in the mirror.  “It’s nothing to get all nervous about.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “It’s just a lame barbecue, nothing to get worked up about.  He’s a friend from school, that’s all.”

But, was that all?  

You had a blue and green stained glass bird hanging in one of the small windows, right above a trio of succulents in various planters, and you made sure to sprinkle a rare dose of water on them before you left. 

You got all the way down to your car, realized you hated the shoes you had on, and went back up to change them.  Donna eventually came out to ask you where you were going, not that it was any of her business.

“To a friend's house,” is what  you appeased her with, feeling that it would be wrong to ignore your boss, even if she had no right to ask..  

Hopper’s place was a brown and tan double wide surrounded with trees with an above ground pool out back, through the carport.  The grill was back there too, and a bunch of friends downing beers in camp chairs.  He’d gone over to the motel to invite Lorelei, but she was leaving on an out of town date with a regular that night, and a part of him wished he’d never known that.  Now, he’d have to drink away how worried he’d be for her to make it home safe.  

Or maybe he’d stay relatively sober, just in case she called.

He turned from the grill to catch his reflection in the living room window, rubbing a hand over the short beard there under the smoldering cigarette between his lips.  He muttered out loud to himself that he needed to get a fucking haircut soon since it was long enough to tuck behind his ears.  

“Sorry man,” Steve brushed by on his way around the house again.

“Hey Taz,” Hopper called after him, making Steve spin around, the heel of his Converse digging into the grass.  “Why the hell are you so fidgety tonight? Have another beer, sit the fuck down.  I’m gonna shove this burger down your throat in a minute.”

Steve raked a hand through his hair a few times, exhaling a ragged breath.  This was only his third or fourth time going around front to see if he could get a view of your car coming down the road, but for some reason, Hopper was keeping track.  

Steve wondered if it was wrong that he wanted to hug you when you showed up.   

He moved his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing there.  “I told you I got that friend that might be coming. Wanted to make sure she didn’t miss the turn.”

Hopper brought his attention back to the food, letting the ash from his smoke dust the front of his Magnum P.I. tropical shirt as he spoke. “What if she doesn’t show, what then?”

“Won’t matter to me,” Steve shrugged, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “I need to get the other cooler out of my truck anyway.”  

He kept on his way before Hopper could say another word.  

An hour, a burger, some potato salad, and several beers later, there was still no sign of you.  A few people bobbed around in the pool as dusk bloomed on the horizon, while the rest settled in a circle around the campfire to the tune of Wild One by Thin Lizzy.

He was staring at the fire, thinking about getting up for a third beer, when he heard the distinct crunch of  tires rolling up to the gravel of the driveway from the main road.

—----

You turned down the radio, taking a few calming breaths.

He’s just a stupid boy…you reminded yourself, pulling in near the red mailbox to park behind two Harley Davidson Fatboys.  Steve’s truck was parked further up the road, away from the house, to give others more room to park, you assumed.  Hopper drove a Bronco, as well as his Harley Softail, and there were two other vehicles you didn’t recognize. 

Several tiki torches lined the way to the back of the home while the sunset blazed tangerine.  You hadn’t even turned the engine off yet when you saw Steve appear at a slow jog, waving as if to assure you that you were at the right place.  

Your heart tripped over itself at the sight of him, and you gave a quick glance to the rearview mirror to check your face. He waited for you to open the door and step one foot out before he asked if you needed a hand.  

“I brought beer,” there was a 12 pack Schlitz on the front seat from the mini mart.  A last minute choice since you’d forgotten to ask if you needed to bring anything. Steve stood holding the door open while you stretched over to grab it.  He saw the way your shirt creeped up to show some skin on your hip, but then she quickly averted his eyes.

“Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it,” he took the case of beer from you as you stood.  “Saved you some food if you’re hungry.”

Shouts and splashes echoed from the pool after it sounded like someone did a belly flop.  Steve had on a nice, button down, grass green shirt with what looked like newer blue jeans.  Had he just bought them that day? You liked the way the shirt was unbuttoned a few so that his messy patch of chest hair was on full display.  That was the most “dressed up” you’d ever seen him.  

“Think you might want to go for a swim?” He carried the case under his arm like it didn’t weigh a thing.

The question flustered you.  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

He smelled really good, not like strong cologne or anything but just clean and spicy and…soft.  Like maybe you could bite into his flesh and honey would come out. 

Most of the 12 or 14 other people at the party there were too tipsy and too busy deep in their own conversation to really care or notice when the two of you came around the corner.  Hopper looked up from his chair across the fire, exhaling smoke from his cigar.  It was a big, circular fire pit made of stone, and you had the feeling he made it himself.  

There was an empty seat you assumed was Steve’s, and next to it was a younger kid with thick sideburns and a PROSPECT insignia on the back of his Coffin King’s leather.  

Still holding the beer, Steve kicked the aluminum legs of the young man’s chair. “Get up.”

The guy snapped his head to see who it was and was quick to stand.  You had your mouth open to protest taking someone else’s seat, but the guy was already off to find another one.

“I’m gonna go put these in the fridge,” Steve said.  “You want beer or–?”

“Got any whiskey?” You could feel Hopper’s eyes on you.

“Coming right up,” he replied, squeezing your shoulder. 

The whiskey tamed your nerves, and he handed you his cigarette for a few drags.  He offered you one of your own, but you declined, citing that you didn’t want to get too comfortable with it.  But really, you just liked sharing his; to hold it in your lips right after him, teasing the tip of your tongue across the filter.  He introduced you to the ones around the fire, all members of the Coffin Kings, and a few of them had partners, or “old ladies” as they were affectionately called.  You listened to the conversations buzzing around, and every once in a while, you’d find yourself chuckling at some story Steve told.  What about the time he tried to steal a riding lawnmower from the hardware store, and four employees chased him through the parking lot?

“I was just a kid,” he leaned over to tell you so that you wouldn’t think it was something he did recently.  “Barely sixteen I think. One of the guys dared me, and I never say no to those for some reason.”

“You never say no to a dare?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I figure if I’m not hurting anyone else, there’s nothing I won’t try once.”

You pondered that, wondering about the things you wouldn’t do if dared.  

You must’ve shivered, or maybe it was just his intuition, but he motioned to his leather jacket on the backseat of the chair. “You cold? Wanna wear this?”

“No I’m fine, thank you,” but then, “maybe later.”

“What about you,” Hopper said over the tips of the flames, looking in your direction.  “You got a story?”

For the first time all night, they all turned to you, expectantly, and your face began to sweat.

Steve’s hand found your knee. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.  

You thought about the stories you had, and wondered if you should tell the truth or make one up.

“Um,” by then, the others had lost interest. Steve and Hopper were the only ones looking at you. “Well, I ran away from home once and joined the circus.”

Sparks popped in the fire, and Hopper tilted his head to squint curiously.

Steve went along with it.  “Were you a dancer? Those women with the tassels on their—”

He was about to say nipples but stopped himself.

“I had a couple different jobs,” you took another sip.  “I sold cotton candy at one of the kiosks, did tarot readings and fortune telling.  The last job I had was as a magician’s assistant.”

“You serious?” Steve was fascinated.  “You mean you’re, like, psychic or something?”

You rubbed your lips together, thumbing the rim of your beverage.  “Not exactly, I’ve never been sure how it works, but I see things sometimes.”

“How old were you?” The woman with the bleached blonde hair next to you asked.  She wore an American flag bikini top with tattered denim Daisy Dukes.  

“Seventeen.”

Steve had his chin pinned to his shoulder, searching your face with deepening interest.  

“That’s badass,” the Prospect that had once been in your chair said, but he was next to Hopper at that point.  He had a full head of wavy hair, feathered off his face with some type of gel.  come to find out, his name was Dino, as in short for Dinosaur.  “I’ve always wanted to join the circus.”

The rest of them gave low chuckles, and one mumbled, “there’s still time.”

“Why did you run away from home?” Steve whispered it, wondering if maybe you might not want to answer that in front of everyone.

Dino went on to expand on what a good circus barker he’d be while you spoke only to Steve.

“I didn’t really have, you know, the best childhood,” you mumbled. 

“Someone hurt you?” Just the thought made him upset.

You took another sip, and then raised your voice so the group could hear. “We had one of those big red and white tents, like in the movies. The Bearded Lady, Becky, she was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet.  The lions were my favorite.  The big one, his name was August, we’d go for walks together. I made friends with a trapeze artist, but one day she was up there doing a routine on the tightrope and she fell and there was a hole in the net.  She went right through.  Her name was Debbie.”

There was a hush, and then an older biker with a gray beard next to the blonde said, “that’s fucked up.”  

“How long were you with the circus?” Dino asked.

“Only a few months,” you cleared your throat.  “And then I was on the road for a while.”

“By yourself?” Steve’s voice was louder than he’d meant for it to be. 

You gave him a soft smile and a shrug.  “I’m always alone.”

What were the odds of two lonely fucks finding each other again the way you two had?  Steve was grateful for Robin and Eddie, they were his only constants.  

Robin had decided to stay home that night, to unpack some things and get her room situated again.  Steve made sure she bolted the door and told her to use his gun if Nic tried to come around.  

“She won’t,” Robin huffed, dumping the contents of her backpack onto the bed.  “That would imply she actually gave a shit about me.  She’ll have some new married woman from the bar in our bed by tonight, I’m sure of it.”

Back at the firepit, you got to your feet and Steve followed.  “Could you tell me where, um, the bathroom is?”

The bathroom wallpaper was blue and white striped with ducks in bow ties on the trim, something you imagined was there before Hopper moved in.  A mirrored medicine cabinet and a shower without a tub that had one of those frosted, glass front doors.  Besides some mustache/beard trimmings near the sink, it was a tidy place, and smelled of cleaning supplies.  You used the fairly new bar of green soap in the clear dish, and peeked around in the cabinet like any nosey person would.  

Steve was lingering in the carpeted hallway to hand you a fresh beer.  “Didn’t want you to get lost on the way back.”

There were photo collages in frames on the walls of what looked like Hopper’s extended family.  In one, he had his arms hooked over the shoulders of Steve and an older man in their Coffin Kings kuttes.  It might've been a decade old; Steve looked like a baby.

“How long have you and Hopper known each other?”

Steve let out a raspberry sound with his lips.  “Who knows, forever.  He’s been around since we were kids.”

He was just about to reach for the sliding door out to the back patio, when someone else pulled it open.  Shirtless in his boxers, with a yellow beach towel wrapped around his waist, stood the person you knew to be Eddie Munson.  Wet hair long over his shoulders with a handful of tattoos scattered over his torso, he was dripping wet, and in the middle of scowling about something you weren’t privy to.

“Hey man,” the two men bumped fists.  His eyes darted back and forth between the two of you.  “My beeper just went off, need to make a call real quick.”

Steve introduced you, praying to whatever god would listen that whatever Eddie had to do that night did not include needing his help.  

You saw the metaphorical lightbulb of recognition brighten above Eddie’s head.  “Oh shit yeah, I remember you.  You punched Danny Rogers right in the jaw once on the playground. Dude went down hard.”

Steve seemed to beam with pride at that, exposing his gold canine, but you shifted nervously.

“I don’t like violence,” you admitted.  “But he deserved it.”

Danny was one of those boys who liked to try and put his hand up girls shirts and make nasty rumors go around that one of them blew him in the supply closet.  They were only kids, and you didn’t even know what “to blow” someone meant at the time.  

Eddie shook his hair out like a dog. “Hey, I’ll catch you two out there in a minute, okay? Good to see you again, killer.”

It was dark enough that you could only see the shapes of the people in the pool, moonlight reflecting off the water, and felt the unmistakable weight of Steve leaning into you as you went through the door.  He slid it closed once you stepped onto the concrete slab, and then you turned, not realizing how close he was, and accidentally bumping chests with him.  

You didn’t move away, but you kept your head down until Steve put a finger under your chin to lift your gaze.  The porch light was out, allowing you an extra veil of privacy from the party, and you snaked a hand up over his ribs.

“Are you gonna run away this time?” He mumbled, staring at your mouth, his lashes fluttering.

He didn't know about your dream but somehow, he did.

“I thought we were going together?”

He wondered if you could feel him shaking. 

“I’m ready,” his mouth came down close enough to exchange oxygen with you.  You shifted closer, pulling him in.

But then he abruptly cleared his throat and turned his head.

“Not like this,” he rumbled, glancing at the rest of the party.  

“Not like what?”  You sought his hand and intertwined your fingers. 

He didn’t want to say out loud what he meant, that he wanted it to be special.  

He was revealing himself to you, these things he’d been taught to hide, the ways he daydreamed about how well he could love you, if only you’d let him.  If he could write for shit, he’d be one of those insufferable assholes scribbling out poetry in your honor.

He wasn’t like this with every woman he dated.

There was a special chemistry, something more spiritual than primal, that had only been activated in him a couple of times.  The last one was a while back and she took all of his trust; he was sure he’d never lean into that feeling ever again.  

Were the two of you dating? Is that what this was? Maybe the connection was all in his head and you were just going along for lack of things to do.

No, that wasn’t true.  He could tell you wanted that kiss.

He should’ve taken the chance…

Shit

But then you held his hand all the way back to the firepit, and that was something.  

----

Thank you for reading, I love you. Biker Steve will be back soon.

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time I Gave Him Covid”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, Sukuna makes you watch The Human Centipede but nothing is described in detail, pining at the end but he’s in denial

Word Count: 1.08k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Look, a day off is nice, and a few days off could be a real treat, under just about any other circumstances. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee that you didn’t even need to add sugar to because the bitter taste can’t affect you when you literally can’t taste it.

You noticed the symptoms a couple hours ago, scratchy throat, can’t taste, can’t smell; you had an extra Covid test under the kitchen sink since you bought a two pack a couple months ago, and unsurprisingly you tested positive. And now you’re stuck in your little apartment for a week, trapped in the confined space with your oversized roommate who’s going to be just thrilled to hear the news.

He’s literally gonna kill me.

As if on cue, you could hear Sukuna’s footsteps thumping down the stairs, his eyes meeting yours as he turned the corner and a look of confusion spreading across his face.

“Don’t you have a job?”

You snort, oh he’s not gonna like this, “I’ve got bad news bud.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.” He shoots you a glare as walks into the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cabinet.

You roll your eyes, a sheepish grin creeping at the corners of your lips as you prop your cheek onto the palm of your hand, “We have Covid.”

“Who’s we?” He doesn’t even look at you, his back facing you as he pulls a carton of milk out from the fridge and fills the glass.

Even though he can’t see it, you give him a quizzical look, “We literally live together? My germs are all over the place.”

He turns around, leaning his back against the kitchen counter and looking down at you in your seat with a nonchalant expression, “I’ve got a good immune system,” He brings the glass up to his lips and takes a sip, “I’m fine.”

You know he’s full of shit, cocky bastard can’t genuinely think he’s above getting sick, right? You look up at him dumbfounded as he casually sips his glass of milk, he’s got a completely blank expression.

When’s the last time we even bought milk? That has to have been sitting for a while now. Oh, oh wait…

Hah, yeah he’s so full of shit. He cocks a brow at the smirk you didn’t realize had grown across your face.

“What’s so funny, brat?”

“How’s the milk taste?”

He shrugs, clicking his tongue in his mouth, “Fine.”

“When did it expire?”

“It didn’t,” He raises the glass to his nose and smells it with no changes in his expression, he picks the carton up and turns his wrist to read the back of it, “It’s good ‘til-”

He stops himself short, his mouth dropping into a small surprised oh, you can’t even attempt to suppress the giggle that escapes you.

You let your arms slide down outstretched across the kitchen table, your cheek pressed against the smooth wood, “I guess we’re quarantine buddies.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

I figured as much.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your face is buried in your hands, shielding your poor, absolutely tortured eyes from the TV. Eerie music with muffled screams and maniacal laughter emit from the speakers and fill the room as Sukuna outstretches his leg to reach your side of the couch, prodding at your arm with his foot.

“You’re not even watching.”

“This is horrible.”

“This is payback.”

You peek through your fingers, immediately wanting to gag at his disgusting movie choice. The Human Centipede, really? He’s watching it so casually, somehow managing to have the stomach to eat popcorn as well, albeit most of the popcorn has been tossed into your hair from when he caught you squeezing your eyes shut during the teeth pulling scene. Now that was brutal.

“Can we please watch something else? Anything?” You whine into your hands.

“I’ve got the DVD for Cannibal Holocaust.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, flopping your head backward onto the couch cushion.

It’s gonna be a long week.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Woman, how in god's name do I move?”

“You click where you want to go, and,” You lean forward and tap your finger onto your laptop's screen, “Click here.”

“That’s so fucking stupid.” He grumbles under his breath.

You roll your eyes but to be honest, you’re impressed he was actually willing to play one of your games. It seems the last few days of being stuck together have broken him down a bit, and now you’re leaning against his arm watching him attempt to maneuver around The Sims on your laptop.

Sukuna lets out a frustrated groan, “This game sucks, you can’t even kill people.”

You draw back in surprise, “Have you never played Sims before?”

He turns his head towards you, looking completely baffled that you’d even ask, “No? Obviously.”

Oh he’s in for a treat.

Within an hour he’s drowned 4 people, burned down someone’s mansion, got a call to come meet a child that he didn’t even know was his, and let out an absolutely delighted “Oh? What’s this?” when he found the tools to make prison bars. You can’t say you’re surprised by any means, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t amused.

You’re watching his eyes flicker around the screen, brows furrowed in concentration and his sharp canine digging into the side of his bottom lip as he oh so meticulously picks out the least comfortable looking beds for each little prison cell. You’ve been slowly slouching against his side more and more over the last hour, and he either hasn’t noticed or is too invested in his mass murder scenarios to even care as sickly fatigue has your head resting on his shoulder and your eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open.

Little do you know, he’s well aware of your weight pressing into him; but, he’s willing to let it slide this time, deciding that you’ve pleased him enough for him to hold back from pushing your sleepy body onto the ground. Even though it would be hilarious to see the look on your face when you wake up to your back flopping onto the plush rug beneath you, and even funnier to watch you try to slap at him as he holds both of your wrists in one hand, he’s willing to spare you just this once, although he couldn’t possibly fathom the reason why.

It’s not because he’s growing a soft spot for you, no, because that would be ridiculous.

A/N: I wasn’t planning to start with this one BUT I couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario so I guess we get him sick immediately asakjjaan Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!!

[dancingtotuyo]

Home | Part 2

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: You and Frankie come to a crossroads

Tags: fluff, angst, family, recovering!frankie, girl dad!Frankie

Warnings: references to past drug use (cocaine), addiction recovery, struggling to cope, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: once again- thank you to the lovely @wannab-urs for beta reading!

I don’t think this is going to turn into a full fledge series but I definitely foresee myself revisiting this little family at least once more.

Words: 2225

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Life either feels like it’s rushing by in a blur or crawling at a snail's pace. Layla is growing like a weed, standing as tall and as straight as a yardstick. You celebrate her third birthday in the summer, filling this old house with smiles and laughter. You wish it could always be this way.

Frankie gets his helicopter license reinstated the year before. It helps, but you still see the struggle in his eyes. Despite his assurances that he’s not touched cocaine since he got busted, you find yourself checking his old hiding places and searching for new ones. You haven’t found anything yet. He’s given no indication of using again, but you see the stress carved out in his forehead and the weight of the world on his shoulders. It feels like a when, not an if. You don’t know how to slow down the barreling train.

Then, one night he’s not home. It’s well past midnight as you sit on the couch wrapped tightly in a blanket staring out the window. You pray for his high beams to blind you. There’s a pit forming in your stomach. He always tells you when he’s coming home. The only pictures you can conjure up are of him snorting lines. The background changes, but you always see the same blown pupils staring back at you.

The night you met, you’d done lines together off Frankie’s dealer’s coffee table. The dealer was dating your roommate at the time. It hadn’t been the first time you used or the last, but you could count the times you had on your hands. You escaped the addiction. Frankie hadn’t.

It’s after 1 am when his headlights finally shine in your eyes. You stay on the couch, not eager to greet what’s coming through your back door. Frankie’s feet are heavy on the back stoop. There’s a pattern, a routine to them. Two knocks on the side of the house, three stomps on the doormat. The rattling storm door opens and then the ever present squeak of the backdoor echoes through the quiet house.

Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself up. Frankie's eyes meet yours as you flick on the kitchen light. It stings both your eyes. You search for any signs of a fading high. He seems calm, a bit shaken but not in a coked out way. His eyes dilate as they should. He catches your careful inspection. “I’m not high.”

You bite your lip. “Then where have you been?”

Deep bags stain under his eyes. His shoulders slump. He looks exhausted. “I went to get high… sat in the alley for hours.”

“Fuckin’ christ, Frankie!” You hiss, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re not sure you can survive another relapse.

“Baby, I didn’t. I told you.” He grabs your hand, voice breaking. He needs you to believe him. “Please.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry. I had a bad day and-” a sharp little cry interrupts him, and then another. It reminds you of a kitten. They seem to be coming from his duffel. “Shit.” Frankie drops your hands, rushing over to his duffel.

Carefully, he unzips the bag, catching a ball of black fluff that threatens to escape. Your jaw drops. “Francisco Morales! What the fuck is that?”

He holds the kitten to his chest, fingers scratching behind its ears. It’s tiny, probably not old enough to be weaned from its mother yet. “I saw him in the alley.” The kitten nuzzles into Frankie more. “I couldn’t find any other kittens or the mom. The little guy was all alone.”

“And probably infected with fleas.”

“So, I’ll throw my bag in the dryer.” Frankie shrugs. “and pick up some flea and tick medication tomorrow.”

“We can’t take care of a kitten. We’re not prepared.”

“Can’t say we were prepared to take care of Layla either, but she’s still alive,” A faint smile graces Frankie’s face either from the joke or the way the tiny animal is falling asleep in his solid arms.

You bite your lip. Frankie is tired and worn and barely fighting off the demons, but he’s smiling, maybe even relaxing a little. He chuckles as the kitten perks back up, swatting at Frankie’s fingers.

You sigh. “He has to stay in the bathroom tonight, and he’s going to the vet as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frankie winks, stepping toward you.

You sigh, letting the night’s tension out. Frankie is here. He’s okay physically. He’s not coked up. Of all the outcomes you spent hours worrying over, this one is sunshine and rainbows. As the tension eases, you feel more inclined toward the kitten. He’s a little ball of midnight fur, not a speck of other color to be seen.

“I swear to god, Frank if he has rabies-”

“Then I’m already dead.” He teases.

You smack his shoulder. “Or any other communicable diseases, I’m going to kill you.”

“He’s just a kitten, Babe.” Frankie smiles, kissing the tuft of fur between his tiny ears.

You sigh. “I’ll grab some newspaper. You’ll have to give him milk.”

“Don’t kittens like milk?”

“He’ll probably get the runs. Cats can’t digest milk.” You shoot Frankie the side eyes, gathering the necessary supplies to get the kitten settled.

Frankie is in the bathroom with him until almost 3 am. You have to admit. You almost feel bad leaving the tiny animal alone. Almost. The last thing you need is a flea infestation.

Frankie eventually curls up next to you, sighing as he nuzzles into your neck. “Think he’ll be okay?”

“You found him in an alley. One night curled up on a towel in our bathroom won’t hurt him.”

“Layla is going to love him.”

A laugh sputters from your lips. “If she doesn’t choke him to death. We’re still working on gentle hands.”

Frankie’s laugh joins yours from deep within him. It’s the kind that brings a smile, a true one, about. It’s something that’s been rare as of late.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His hands wander haplessly. You bite your lip, soaking in the feeling of his warm hands across your body as you remember how close you came to losing this tonight.

He kisses your neck. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You always worry me.”

Frankie inhales sharply, squeezing you tighter. His lips play at your ear. “I’m sorry for that too.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is.”

“Addiction is a disease, Frankie.”

He huffs, never accepting that response. He feels guilty. He feels responsible for getting hooked on coke, putting you through hell and back.

“If I never-”

“If you never- we wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t have met. We wouldn’t have Layla.”

Frankie sighs, dropping his forehead into your shoulder. You feel the hot tears slipping down your neck. Kissing his head, you thread your fingers through his thick brown curls. Something else is waging war inside him and you think he may finally tell you.

“I think I almost died tonight.”

Your fingers still. Frankie pulls back so that he can look you right in the eyes. The moonlight flickers off of them in your favorite way. “What happened?”

Frankie shakes his head. “Nothing. I looked at that alley for so long tonight. I just had a feeling that if I went in, there was no coming back.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. You’ve felt it too, the boulder hanging over your heads, like a sixth sense. If Frankie slips again, there’s no coming back, and relapse has felt so close.

He clenches your pillow in his fist. More tears pour from his eyes. “And what’s worse is the only thing that kept me from it was that damned cat.”

You thumb away one of his tears. “I don’t think that’s true, Frank.”

“I was about-”

“And how long did you sit there before the cat showed up?”

“I don’t know. An hour, maybe two. It took me just as long to catch the cat.”

You stifle a laugh, caressing his cheek. “He might’ve given you a reason to walk away, but I don’t think that cat is the only reason you didn’t relapse tonight.”

“We need to do a better job at talking.”

You nod. “Agreed.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep checking my hiding spots.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You know about that?”

“Yeah,” Frankie nods. “And I don’t blame you either.

You stare at him for a moment. His eyes seem clearer today than they have in months. He’s warm against you. He’s home, and he’s your Frankie.

“Will you tell me what happened in Colombia? What really happened?”

He sucks in a breath, rolling onto his back. His hand travels to the meat of your thigh. He squeezes and rubs as if he’s self-soothing. “Please don’t leave.”

It comes out just above a whisper. Your heart clenches. This is why he won’t talk about it. Not because of the trauma, but because he’s scared you’ll walk away from him after. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He takes in a long breath, holding it, and then releasing it. Then, he recounts it all until the sun is peeking through your bedroom windows.

As predicted, Layla is obsessed with the kitten the moment Frankie brings him out. You give him a bath before you let her touch him, treating him with flea and tick medication Frankie grabbed from the grocery store that morning.

Once he’s bathed and treated, the three of you sit on the kitchen floor for hours with the newest member of your family. You’re exhausted and you see the same in Frankie from not sleeping the night before, but your daughter is enthralled by the kitten as the two of them stay occupied with an old shoelace. Nap time is a long way off.

Layla throws a fit to get the kitten to take a nap with her, but you stand firm. He needs at least 24 hours for the flea medication to do its job. You and Frankie fall into sun-soaked sheets once she’s down. Your eyes drift close immediately and Frankie pulls you flush against him.

“Kitten needs a name.” He mumbles.

“Never said it was staying.”

“Ya didn’t need to.”

“You name him. You’re the one who brought him home.”

It’s quiet for a second. Your brain slips further into darkness.

“Cocaine.”

“What?”

“His name. I went into the alley to find Cocaine and I found him.”

You sit up, eyes bleary, but sleep the furthest thing from your mind now. “Our three-year-old daughter is not going to yell out for Cocaine, Frankie.”

His chest shakes with laughter, a smile dancing on his lips. “C’mon. It’s cute. She can call him Coke.” You cross your arms across your chest. Frankie sees none of it, eyes still closed. “... or Coco. That’s cute.”

You huff. Frankie still doesn’t seem to notice but pulls you back down against him instead. “Said I could name him, babe.”

“She’s not calling him Cocaine.”

You fall asleep to Frankie’s deep chuckle.

To Layla, he’s Coco. Frankie calls him a rotation of things like Coke and Cokey, his actual name, and sometimes Little Shit. You call him Crack from the way he zooms through the house at all times of the day.

Layla is obsessed with her newest little pal, always wanting him to be in her room or bed, or to take him to the grocery store, but he spends the nights curled up in your bed – usually around Frankie’s legs.

The times that little Cocaine Morales isn’t flying through your home on a fruitless hunt, he’s curled up somewhere. If Frankie is home, you can find him on his lap, or riding his shoulder. You know he’s much more than a cat to Frankie.

You like having him too. He’s brought joy into your home. It’s a joy that had become rare- only showing up for Layla’s milestones and sparing minutes. You know it’s not just Cocaine. It’s what he represents. He’s a marker for the night things changed for the better.

You and Frankie are talking about it all, the nightmares, the demons. Something that’s been absent for too much of your relationship. You both have begun to seek out help, separately and together. You don’t check Frankie’s hiding spots anymore. The deep, swelling love you’ve always had for him once again bubbles over, filling every crack and crevice of your home. Frankie is more present, more attentive. Slowly but surely, ghosts flee one by one.

Layla’s nickname for the kitten dies the moment Uncle Ben walks into your Labor Day cookout. From the moment on, she spends her time calling out for Cocaine. Her plethora of uncles are a gaggle of hidden chuckles and mischief each time. You shoot glares their way, but you can’t help but find it just as cute.

This thing that nearly tore your family apart, is now something you laugh about bundled into a cute little ball of black fur. The catalyst for things getting better.

There are still dark days, but they’re few and far between. While the thoughts play through Frankie’s mind from time to time, he never returns to the alley.

[theragethatisdesire]

hello, me again 🙋‍♀️ not an anon but here to bother you on your fight 🥰

can you tell me what you think the boys would be like if they were jealous? any and all boys i just wanna hear ur thoughts

TIFF I DRAFTED THIS WHOLE THING OUT ON THE PLANE ON MY POS PHONE AND THEN IT NEVER POSTED. i literally JUST noticed and i am so frustrated, i'm sorry i literally didn't even realize!! but i never tire of talking about our boys so pls enjoy <3333

nsfw below the cut; jean, eren, and levi included

Eren

so eren to me is sort of a cocky little shit, but he's also a brat

if you're talking to a guy in the bar a little too much, eren's 100% charging right up to interrupt the conversation, throw his arm around your shoulders, figure out exactly what's going on here

but honestly? i think eren knows how much you love him and doesn't worry about you being attracted to others, he's just demanding when it comes to your attention

what makes him really jealous is when you start reading game of thrones alongside armin, and while eren's not unfamiliar with the premise of the books, he never could have imagined how intricate they are

intricate enough for you to be glued to your novel and your phone intermittently, surfacing from the pages with a squeal "oh my god i HAVE to text armin!" "armin's going to freak out!"

before he knows it, he's coming home to find you and armin, annotated novels spread on the coffee table, debating character arcs and laughing over funny moments

it confuses him at first. you love him, and he loves that you're friends with his friends, would never try to deny you a meaningful friendship, he knows that's all it is

eren's not a reader. too time consuming, too slow. but he wants to make your eyes light up like that, wants to hear you ramble on and on about your theories

he tries to get you into his story-based video games, but all he gets is a polite level of interest

when you finally confront him about acting like a fucking weirdo every time armin gets brought up, eren confesses, and it breaks your heart

"i mean, i know i'm not as smart as you or armin, but we could find something like that to do together, right? you just seem so into it..."

when you show him the tv show, eren's immediately hooked, and you stay up together for weeks on end binging it, eren watching you explain the differences between book and show with hearts in his eyes <333

Jean

jean is an egotistical maniac, you know it, he knows it

as your boyfriend, jean's never going to be one to throw a fit over the attention you get in the bar, in fact, he encourages it

it gets him off knowing that you're the girl everyone wants, that no one can take their eyes off of, and that you're going to go home with him and beg for him to fuck you

but if you're not his girlfriend? completely different story

when his roommate, eren, brings home his new girlfriend, jean is shocked

you're so...sweet. polite, beautiful, funny. what are you doing with eren? and not him?

jean has a case of the roommates-hot-girlfriend-itis, and he's got it bad

before he knows it, he's setting his alarm early, padding out into the kitchen where he knows you'll be making your coffee before work while eren snores in the other room

he's not shy about it either, openly flirting with you, teasing you about your messy hair, your tiny sleep shorts

he loves the way you blush when he says "you cold or something?", glancing meaningfully at your peaked nipples showing through your tank top

but you never falter, your eyes are only for eren. it drives jean insane.

he's going to the gym every day now, trying to work off this excess anger trying to get bigger and stronger so you can't help but notice him

he'd never admit it, but he listens in on you and eren late at night, imagining your breathy moans are for him

when he finds a pair of your panties in the dryer, he pockets them, treasures them

and when he finds you at a coffee shop in tears, a breakup text from eren on your phone? he has to hide his grin

jean may be a bad friend, but he'll make a great rebound

Levi

you're levi's, but he knows you're not supposed to be

he's still your captain, your immediate superior, and while that's exceedingly hot in the sheets, it's stifling outside the walls of your bedroom

he can't help but glance at you longingly across the cafeteria, watch your nose scrunch in that cute way it does when you laugh and when you cum

and when you brush a hand absentmindedly against miche's? bat your eyes up at hange, make them blush? levi knows you're doing it on purpose

he knows you well enough to know you can't help but antagonize him

he knows you belong to him, and you know you belong to him, but they can't know, and that's the problem. levi can't claim you in public, so he has to overcompensate when you finally sneak into his quarters at the end of the day, twiddling your fingers in anticipation

"can't believe you," he huffs, bending you over his desk, "thought i trained you better than that"

he did, you both know it, but you're a greedy, insatiable little thing, and you're good at riling levi up to get what you want

"don't know what you're-- ah! what you're talking about" you lie, gasping when he lands a sharp smack to your clit

"of course you do, you fucking brat," levi's not feeling as playful as you were earlier today, the hot lick of envy at the top of his throat "making those fuck me eyes at erwin earlier? you wanted me to see you, didn't you? whoring yourself out like you're not going to be begging me to let you cum later?"

your response is muffled by your panties in your mouth

"no excuses. beg all you want, but the only way this cunt-- my cunt-- is cumming tonight is if you admit it. admit you're mine, admit you can't get off with anyone else. you're mine."

and oh, do you cave. you're babbling apologies into the fabric in no time, tears streaming down your face

and once you're both shaking and spent, levi pulls you into his arms, cuddles you against his chest

he can't claim you in public, not as things stand with you on his squad, but for now, having you curled against him will have to be enough

THIS WAS SUCH A BLAST thanks for submitting tiff all my love <3

[ericsprincess]

awake I love this

Your hot roommate is a bed dweller.

~~~

“Oh shit- Jesus, you scared me,” you stop in the kitchen doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected presence in the kitchen. It’s 6 a.m. and you just woke up, blearily wandering out of your bedroom to make breakfast and get ready for your shift at work. You’re barely awake and what you didn’t expect was your roommate being already there, making some toast. 

Younghoon, your roommate, standing in the kitchen, was a very unusual sight. Not only the “in the kitchen” part, but also the “standing” one. When you first moved in, you knew your roommate would be a man, and you were quite concerned about what the future cohabitation would look like. You didn’t know him, it was just a friend of a friend who gave you a tip about Younghoon looking for someone to rent his spare bedroom to. Therefore you were afraid about the endless possibilities of how everything could go wrong - he could be too messy, too loud, bring too many people home, or worse, perving on you. But you didn’t really have a choice, so you took the offer and moved in. Thankfully, none of your worries proved to be true - not only Younghoon appeared to be a completely chill guy, but it would be really easy to even forget you live with someone. 

The thing is, your roommate spends way too much time in his bed. First you thought he might be sick, but he didn’t look that way. But save for going to school and occasionally out for either necessary errands or rare outings with friends, he spends all his leisure time in bed. Everytime you feel bored and you go to his room just to chat about anything, he’s under the blankets, either scrolling on his phone or reading, or watching a movie. He plays computer games out of bed too, and you’ve seen him even study while laying down. Thankfully, he seems to be a clean person, so at least you don’t have to worry about him dwelling in some gross nest. It seems to be just an odd quirk of his otherwise normal and nice - as you were pleased to discover - personality. 

He also seems to be quite aware of this and doesn’t seem to care much. When you asked him once, why is he alway in bed, after a few weeks of living together, he just lazily turned his head to you and replied “Because I’m always ready, Y/N” and winked at you. 

So considering all that, you take a little bit of time to admire the rare sight of vertical Younghoon. 

He’s very tall and while he’s kinda skinny, his frame is broad. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and black t-shirt and you think no one should look this good, while spreading some butter on a toast, having just rolled out of bed. 

He looks over his shoulder at you, amused by your outcry. “Good morning Y/N. I’m making breakfast, do you want some? Coffee is over there,” he smiles at you, pointing at the full coffee pot. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, sipping at it and just observing Younghoon going about making more toast. You could really get used to the sight of a hot man making you breakfast every day, you dream a little. 

Speaking of men, you remember something. “By the way,” you say, “I’m going out with friends tonight so, you know..” you’re not sure how to finish the sentence and tell him that you might end up bringing someone home to fuck. But he gets it anyway.  

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll have my headphones on, don’t worry,” he teases you and you can feel your face getting red. It’s not that you’re that loud, because you know you’re not. But he might have caught on to it anyways, and you’re not sure how you feel about your nice roommate overhearing you having sex. It feels both embarrassing, but also kind of hot, seeing that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Does he perhaps like it? You wonder, but your train of thought gets interrupted by a plate full of toasts set in front of you. Younghoon sits across the table and you spend the morning just chatting about news, until you both realize you have to run to work and school respectively, and the whole topic of overhearing is forgotten. 

~~~

You come home from work and rush straight to your bedroom. You had to stay late at work to finish up something so now your time to get ready for going out is diminished and it’s barely enough to take a shower, throw on the skimpiest dress you own, fix your makeup and be out of the door. 

So you do exactly that. You take a shower and pick a tiny black dress with straps across the back. You know you look good and you want to wear something that gives a clear signal you don’t want to go home alone tonight, but at the same time, you’re not that used to being dressed this provocative and suddenly you feel insecure. You don't have time to take a photo and bother your friends and wait until they reply with their opinions so you take the only other option you have and march straight to Younghoon’s room. 

Thankfully - and as expected - he’s in his bed, just scrolling on his phone. 

“Hey, Hoonie, do you have a minute?” you ask, peeking through the opened door. 

“Yeah, sure, what do you need?” he replies, so you enter the room. 

“Do you think this dress is too much?” you ask. He looks at you, but doesn’t reply. Instead of that he just stares and you can see his eyes following down every part of your body. He’s blatantly checking you out, you realize. 

The awkward silence is getting more awkward by the second, until he just throws off-handedly “Yeah, you can go out like that. You look good,” and turns back to his phone. It feels like a dismissal a little, but you can see his ears are red. 

“Uh…okay thank you, I’ll get going then,” you beep and not waiting for his answer you rush out of his room. What the fuck was that?? Your brain screams, having just experienced this awkward moment, way too charged for how your interactions with your roommate usually went. You put on your heels and off you go. 

~~~

Well, this was a bust, you sigh while tapping code to your apartment door. Not only did you not see a single decently looking guy, but it felt like tonight was the night that every sleazebag in the city decided to crawl out. So you just stuck to your girlfriends, had a few shots and only went dancing together with them. It was fun enough, but the main point of the outing - to find someone to sleep with - completely fell through, so you came back home tipsy, frustrated and kinda horny. 

You don’t feel like sleeping yet so you head over to Younghoon’s room to see if he’s still up and maybe goad him into watching a movie together or something. You knock twice and don’t wait for a reply, just silently open the door in case he’s asleep already. 

But he isn’t. The room is dark and the only light there is coming from his laptop screen on the nightstand. There is some movie playing silently, but it doesn’t seem that he’s watching it. 

You can’t really see it well, but Younghoon’s eyes are closed and he’s squirming and sighing and his hand is moving under the blanket. Is he..masturbating? Is the first thought that comes up in your brain, but it’s just a split second until he notices your presence and sits up a little. “Hey, Y/N, you’re back already? How did it go? You came back alone?” he breathes out, trying to sound normal. 

“Uh yeah…it was tragic,” you reply but you’re not sure what to say next, your brain completely stuck on what you saw earlier and while you’re not drunk, the few shots you drank are suddenly giving you liquid courage to jump the gun. “Actually…Hoonie, remember when I asked you once….” you start. 

“Yeah?” he prompts you.

“Are you still…always ready?” you finish your question and you can see the moment he puts it all together and realizes what you are really asking. 

“Yeah..” he breathes out and you don’t waste a second and come to his bed, throw away his blanket, swing one leg over him and sit down. You can feel his hard cock under you and his hands immediately come up to rest on your hips. You’re looking at each other, both aroused but neither is sure what to do next. 

“S-sit on my face?” he suggests and you smile at him, because this is truly a fantastic idea.

You raise yourself just enough to take off your panties and then you turn and maneuver so that your pussy is hovering over his handsome face. Your dress is so short you don't even have to take it off. He grabs you by your hips and pulls down, so that you’re sitting with almost full weight on his face. But he doesn’t seem to mind, rather the opposite - he moans and gets to work. He eats you out like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, and his tongue seems heavenly and oddly huge, licking over your clit in broad strokes then moving to your dripping hole and pushing inside. His tongue is so big he can kinda fuck you with it and it feels so good you’re not sure how long you will last. You don’t want it to be over so soon, especially since you can see his hard cock tenting his pyjama pants and the size of it is also intriguing. 

“Younghoon, I’m getting close,” you moan and he just responds by flicking over your clit harder, but you’re already stopping him and easing off his face. He whines and tries to pull you back on his face, as if he hadn’t had enough of eating your pussy yet, but you laugh and drop off on the bed next to him. You look at him and he’s so aroused he looks almost feral, with his eyes glossy and the whole bottom part of his face glistening with your pussy juices. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask and he nods and reaches back to open his nightstand drawer to take out a silver packet. You look at each other. “Always ready,” you say in unison, and start laughing, you lean forwards to take off his shirt  and he fumbles with the straps on your dress until you together manage to take it off. He kicks off his sweatpants and now you’re both naked. You look at his cock and you’re pleased to see how pretty and long and thick it is and he’s already so wet, so you open the packet and roll the condom on him. 

“How do you want to…” he starts but you’re already pushing his chest down so he’s lying flat on his back. 

“Let me ride you,” you say and you’re already climbing over him. You’re not wasting any time, you take hold of his cock and put it inside you, sitting on his lap fully. You take a few seconds to get used to it, even though you’re so wet and relaxed it’s not an issue anymore, and then you start moving. 

It gets frantic all too quickly, you’re both too horny and close to try for any kind of finesse, you’re riding him like it’s the last thing you do in your life and he’s just holding you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing your ass and tits, until he plants his feet over your bed and start thrusting against you. It’s so wild and both of you are moaning and getting out of breath, accompanied just by the slapping and squelching sound.

“Y/N, I’m coming,” he moans and you just nod quickly, because you’re coming too and you can’t even speak anymore. You lean forward to hug him tightly while you’re shaking and spasming and you can see his cock throb and pump inside you. Your ears are ringing and it almost feels like the whole room is spinning with how strong your orgasm was. 

You finally start coming to your senses so you just slump against him. You're both sweaty and sticky but it also feels kinda nice. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it over both of you so that you won't get cold and it somewhat warms your heart a little. You were already almost starting to get worried about things becoming awkward between you, but when you look up on his face, he’s smiling kindly at you and you know everything will be okay. Maybe even… 

“You know Y/N,” he chuckles. “I must say, I like living with you a lot more than I expected I would, but now that I have had you in my bed…It kinda feels like you belong here,” he says and snuggles you tighter to his chest. 

Yeah, you think. Maybe, indeed. 

[whatdudtheysay]

Annoying roommate Gojo

Cw - angry sex, unprotected, light spanking, no foreplay, Gojo's mean, degrading words

A/n - So sorry I haven't been active just been busy w lots of shit and planning stuff❤︎ - the rest is a mini rant

plus I got another Gojo X reader coming out but it's really long and the writer's block is hitting hard ❤︎

also sorry this will be kinda shortt cause I really wanna finish my drafts and get back onto Tumblr writing n I rlly hate this lnee → part 2! Part 3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Satoru! You're so annoying!" You complained, walking to where he was lounged on the couch, controller in hand as he focused on the TV.

"What did i do now, princess?" Gojo hummed, continuing to click the buttons.

You shot him a nasty glare at the sound of his little nickname he gave you. Sometimes you wonder if you should've just decided to take up your friend's offer of the spare room at her place but instead you decided to be 'independent'.

"First of all, stop leaving milk out and second of all, stop bringing your fuck buddies over."

Gojo sat up at this and you thought you'd get some sort of apology but instead he just shrugged. "No. My apartment, my rules."

You narrowed your brows at him, the urge to rip out his perfect white locs almost dominating over you. But instead you just decided to head back into the kitchen, slamming the now spoiled milk carton onto the kitchen island.

Before you headed into the bathroom, you heard the sound of Gojo's phone, instead leaning against the open doorway to eavesdrop.

"Hm? Yeah sure, we said nine didn't we?" Gojo hummed.

At first, you thought he'd be talking to getou but you noticed how his voice slightly dropped to a more seductive one, automatically letting you know he was talking to a girl he'd be inviting over.

Mentally, you sighed, knowing you'd spend another night either with ear plugs in, trying to ignore the obnoxiously loud sex Gojo had or you'd be sat trying to ignore it while watching Netflix - both being equally depressing.

Just as you began to make your way to the bathroom, you halted for a moment as a thought wandered over your mind.

Just a little revenge plan to get back at him.....

★★★

You could hear them before you saw them, the breathy moans, the door slamming was all the warning you needed to know.

"Ah, Gojo-"

Just then, you decided it was time. You rushed into the kitchen to see Gojo and a random girl on the couch, Gojo's shirt already off and resting on the coffee table.

"Satoru!" You gasped, faking shock, allowing your brows to furrow together.

The girl quickly pushed Gojo off of her, hiding her chest as her head bowed in shame.

"Again, satoru? I thought you told me you'd stop! That I was the only one for you-" you rambled, watching as both of their faces turned into shock.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, your girlfriend is talking about how you promised to stop cheating on me!"

The girl immediately got up, looking between you and Gojo.

"Girlfriend?!" She asked.

Gojo was about to defend himself but you interrupted.

"Yeah! Girlfriend." You scoffed. "Now I'll give you about 30 seconds to get out of my face."

The colour from the girl's face practically drained as she scrambled to grab her purse, quickly leaving the apartment afterwards.

As soon as she was gone, you sighed, smirking at Gojo's glare.

"The fuck was that about?" He questioned, stalking towards you.

You just shrugged, moving to walk back to your room. You would've if it weren't for Gojo's hand grabbing your wrist.

"Answer my question." He stated, his voice more flat.

"Well, someone's tired of hearing your annoyingly loud sex almost every night and you aren't the only one who lives here. That simple enough for you?"

Gojo narrowed his eyes at you, his hands tightening around you before pulling you closer.

"Well maybe someone wouldn't be jealous if she actually had someone who'd want to fuck her?"

It was your turn to narrow your eyes now, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"Well maybe I should bring a guy over, hm? Then you'd actually hear how it sounds when women don't fake an orgasm-"

Gojo roughly pushed you against the wall, shutting you up immediately with a heavy hand squeezing your neck. He looked down at you with an unreadable expression, the only thing you could tell was that he was so close to snapping.

"Think you're funny? Chasing my date away like that?" Gojo murmured, his hand squeezing your neck ever so lightly.

"Date?" You managed to get out. "That's funny-"

Gojo cut you off once more by grinding his hips against yours, his bulge making your eyes widened.

"Well. Since you started this. You're gonna end it."

Before you could respond to him you were already being manhandled, pushed up against the wall, your pajama shorts and panties being pulled down.

"Go- fuck-" you let out a load grunt once you felt his cock pushing into your entrance. Obviously you knew Gojo would be thick but his length is what had you feeling feral. His tip was already reaching amazing spots inside you to the point where you didn't know if you could stand properly anymore.

"Shut up- fucking whore," Gojo mumbled, landing a harsh slap against your rear that made you yelp, your walls clamping down on him as a reflex.

Sure, you wanted to piss him off but you didn't think you'd end up taking that girl's place and now you couldn't help but feel bad that you'd stolen this from her. With the way Gojo's hips snapped against your ass you couldn't help but feel good with his cock hitting all your soft spots.

"Gojo- wait-"

"Gojo?" He scoffed. "What happened to you calling me satoru hm? C'mon, say it"

You bit your lip, still trying to get used to his cock ramming in and out of your cunt, your hand sheepishly moving between your legs to rub at your clit.

"Ah, ah, ah- wanna cum that badly?" Gojo scoffed, pulling both your arms behind your back with one beefy hand. "You know what I want, princess."

You grunted, your head feeling like pure mush as Gojo continued his assault against your cervix.

"C'mon, giving you a chance here..." Gojo moaned, stopping his thrusts momentarily to pull out of you.

At first, you were confused, your mind still slightly hazed as Gojo easily carried you, your arms linking around his neck, carefully sliding you back down onto his cock, a slow drawled out moan leaving your swollen lips.

"What? Too fucked out?" Gojo grunted, still thrusting deeply into your hole.

In all honesty though, you were. Your peak was so so close to the point where that's the only thing you were focusing on.

"Shitt-" satoru voiced, almost getting lost in your heat himself. "Gonna cum...gonna flood this little pussy."

You quickly nodded, the need to be filled taking over any smart thoughts that tried to come up. Gojo delivered a few more deep and rough thrusts before copious amounts of his cum spurted inside you.

Gojo huffed deeply, letting you drop down onto the floor in frustration. You watched as he walked into the bathroom coming back out a few moments later with his cock back in his pants and a wad of tissue in hand.

"You..-" you panted, watching his cum leak out of you and spill onto you the floor. "You asshole-."

Gojo raised a brow, half heartedly throwing the tissue towards you.

"What? Sad you didn't cum?"

You let out an audible whine at how sore you were between your legs.

"Maybe if you weren't such a brat and actually listened to me I might've helped you out."

Tiredly, you glared up at him the need to cuss him out feeling heavy on your tongue.

"Make sure you clean this mess up." Gojo yawned, making his way towards his room.

As you recollected yourself you knew one thing was for sure.

He's gonna pay for this.

[this-witch-writes]

Part 4 (Show Don't Tell)

Back to: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

‘Maybe you are a spoiled child!’ Eddie shouted, the blood was pounding in his ears so loudly that he almost didn’t hear the dialtone.

Steve had hung up.

Huffing in frustration, Eddie went to redial, Steve was not getting off that easy, but then he realised that he didn’t even know where he’d called from.

Eddie slammed the phone down and whirled around to rant at his uncle, who’d taken refuge in the kitchen, only for his breath to hitch painfully in his chest. Eddie hated crying, but it felt like his lungs had been shredded. He understood what Steve meant by “I couldn’t breathe”.

‘Ed?’ Wayne put up a calming hand out. ‘You need to walk that off before you talk?’

‘No, I just,’ he panted. ‘I have no idea what just happened.’

‘It got a bit heated there.’

‘No I mean.’ Eddie sobbed. ‘I think it’s really over. Apparently I’m lovely but I don’t love him.’

‘Not that he doesn’t love you then?’ Wayne clarified.

Eddie shook his head, some tears getting knocked loose into his hair. ‘It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because…’

‘Tell me what he said, son, let me help.’

‘You never say it. You smile and nod along and when I asked you, you acted like I was a spoiled child,’ Eddie echoed hoarsely trying to get it right.

‘That’s what we thought, no? He wanted you to say the words.’ Wayne graciously framed it as “we thought” and not “I said”.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Eddie repeated. ‘It’s done. It’s fucking ruined anyway and he’s gone.’

‘Is that what you want?’ Wayne pressed.

‘It doesn’t matter what I want.’

His uncle looked sad, but understanding. ‘It does to me, Eddie, always has.’

‘But…’ his lips trembled. ‘What if I try and it still…’

‘If you try and it doesn’t work, you’ll recover,’ Wayne put an arm around his shaky shoulders. ‘You were brave enough to go back to that high school where they treated you bad, and again even after the Caver boy’s nonsense. You’re brave enough to give that silly boy another chance.’

‘I don’t know how to start. I don’t blame him for hanging up but I don’t know Robin’s number. I miss him already and I’m still mad,’ he admitted with a watery laugh.

‘Be mad,’ Wayne told him. ‘As long as it’s the kind of mad that makes you ask for better, not the kind that makes you act worse.’

‘When’d you get so poetic, old man?’ Eddie laughed properly that time. ‘Where was all this when I was writing my campaigns?’

Wayne shrugged, looking a little pleased with himself. ‘I got depths, kid, and you never asked.’

A bit of a pattern, Eddie realised. Goddammit.

In the end there was only one thing to do. He didn’t have the number for Robin’s dorm but it wasn’t hard to find Columbia university campus on a map. Wayne packed him into the van with snacks and one more pep talk then Eddie started to drive.

-

The day after the disastrous call with Eddie, Steve didn’t get out of Robin’s bed. She agreed to give him 24 hours to mope and cry in peace. Her roommate wasn’t thrilled about the surprise visit at first until she picked up enough context to express her sympathy to Robin’s heartbroken “gay best friend”.

‘I’ve never been anyone’s “gay best friend” before,’ Steve snorted.

‘I have,’ Robin teased. ‘It’s easy, I’ll show you the ropes.’

‘Well I was already halfway there.’

That morning he actually showered, did his hair properly and let Robin drag him to another trendy café for breakfast.

Steve didn’t want his broken heart to make him bitter about how at home Robin seemed in New York. It was like this anxious weight had been lifted off her shoulders that was only obvious when it was gone. Still, he was a little envious. He only ever felt that at home with…

Steve sighed into his coffee and Robin looked up with sympathy. ‘Want me to start listing his irritating habits? For one thing, he eats with his hands like an animal.’

‘He just really enjoys his food.’ Steve defended weakly.

‘He walked on tables in his shoes.’

‘He’s spontaneous.’

‘Steve.’ She glared, done with his shit.

Another sigh heaved its way from Steve’s chest. ‘The problem is that I’m not mad, just sad.’

‘Do you need help getting mad or do you just want to forget? We can do something fun? Have a distraction?’ Robin offered.

Steve shook his head. ‘I don’t want to forget how he was good to me for so long or pretend he awful when he wasn’t. He made me really happy and even if it’s over, I’m not over it yet.’

They walked the slow way back to campus, while Robin tried to convince Steve to finally, finally move out to New York. The answer had technically always been yes, but he’d been dragging his feet for months while he and Eddie saved their money. Just as they were arguing about the money side of things, Steve spotted some very familiar curls on a hunched figure sitting on the steps to Robin’s dorm building. Steve froze, his hands shaking, and Eddie looked up. He looked a bit the worse for wear too, with deep shadows under his eyes and his hair in a mess.

‘You’re not a spoiled child,’ Eddie blurted out as Steve reached him. ‘Your parents sucked too much to spoil you.’

Steve made a punched-out, incredulous noise and Robin groaned into her palms.

‘Did you seriously drive eleven hours cross country to remind me that parents didn’t love me?’ Steve gaped at him. ‘Because I definitely already knew that.’

‘No,’ Eddie grimaced, flushing with embarrassment. ‘I meant… I forget sometimes, that you still expect people to act and think like they do, that it was normal for you.’

‘God, You two suck at this,’ Robin groaned. ‘I’ll be over there if anyone needs an adult translator.’ She sat on the opposite side of the steps.

Eddie gave her outburst a grateful look which just added to Steve’s confusion. ‘I don’t think you’re like my parents?’ He offered, not sure where Eddie going with this.

‘But you assumed that me not saying those words meant the same thing as them not saying them?’ Eddie challenged gently. ‘Even though I didn’t act like them…’ he hesitated. ‘Right?’

‘Of course not,’ Steve huffed again. ‘No one’s ever been as good to me as you. That’s why it was so confusing.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say the words,’ Eddie whispered. ‘I thought I had. It might not mean the same thing to me, but I should have heard you asking.’

‘I’m sorry I ran off.’ Steve said for good measure. ‘And that I wasn’t clearer. I felt so ungrateful, asking for more, asking too much.’

‘It’s not too much, it’s just not how I normally think about love.’ Eddie shrugged. ‘It was easier for me to assume… well I’m used to not feeling good enough.’

‘You’re more than good enough, Eds,’ Steve stepped closer, reaching out nervously, not sure if were back to hugging yet. Luckily Eddie made the choice for both of them and pulled him close.

Steve squeezed Eddie so tight as Eddie practically melted into his arms, clearly exhausted beyond much more talking but he managed to murmur ‘I never want to make you feel like that again’ into the skin of Steve’s neck.

‘Me either,’ Steve agreed, kissing his temple.

Then they remembered that they were standing somewhere far too public to create this much of a scene.

‘I’m still a little mad at you,’ Eddie admitted quietly once they’d sat more calmly on the steps.

‘Me too,’ Steve said. ‘Don’t want to be though.’

Eddie smiled at that. ‘Wayne said it was alright to be mad, so long as it pushed us to be better not worse.’

‘I won’t argue with Wayne.’ Steve brushed their fingers together on the stone step. ‘I want to be better at not taking you for granted, not assuming you’ll always read my mind,’ he bumped his shoulder. ‘Even if it feels like you can sometimes.’

‘I want you to never forget how much I love you,’ Eddie said plainly. As soon as he finally said it, Steve had no idea how he’d ever doubted.

‘There is no way you two disasters are staying in my room after that display,’ Robin called over, reminding them she was there and sending Steve’s cheeks scarlet with mortification.

‘I have motel,’ Eddie laughed. ‘Getting a room was cheaper than paying for just parking in this nightmare city.’

‘I think…’ Steve hesitated then decided that Eddie shouldn’t be the only brave one that day. ‘I think you’re going to like this nightmare city. I think we could both like it.’

Eddie blinked in surprise. ‘You still want to move together. You seemed nervous about even before the fight.’

‘I was,’ Steve laughed at himself. ‘And I'm not saying we pack up tomorrow or that we don't have stuff to figure out still but... I guess it turns out that you driving across the country so I didn’t throw away the best thing in my life, matters even more to me than the words.’

‘So you don’t need me to say it?’ Eddie teased.

‘Maybe once more?’

Eddie leaned in close to whisper in his ear. ‘I love you, Stevie.’

-

The end.

-

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.