#no one will read this and then the next series will be confusing oh well

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, cooties, wild subplot, loser enhypen

word count: 3.78k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024

The blaring screams of his alarm clock has Sunghoon jolting from his sleep. “Oh my god,” He gasps, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “It was all just a dream!” He says relieved.

Jumping out of bed, he hurriedly gets ready for the day. Once clean and changed, he walks to the kitchen, opening a packet of natto to indulge in. 

“Yeji! Don’t forget to comb your hair,” He hears his mother scold as she enters the kitchen. “Oh, Sunghoon, you’re up?” She sounds confused. 

“Yeah, I’m walking with the guys, just like every morning.” He shrugs her off. She doesn’t say much after that, only rushing his little sister around the house, helping her get ready.

“I’m off, see you later.” Sunghoon waves goodbye as he heads out. “Have a good day!” His mother smiles. 

“He’s having a good morning for someone who locked himself in his room last night.” Yeji grumbles. “Your brother is… a teenager Yeji, let him be.” Her mother tries to keep a positive mindset. 

“Will I be like that when I’m a teenager?” Yeji asks, looking worried. 

“You better not, your brother is enough trouble as it is.”

In the past ten minutes no one has said a single word. Sunghoon can’t seem to figure out why though, his eyes searching for the answer. 

Finally, Jungwon clears his throat. “Sunoo,” He calls out. “How did your audition go? For the theater club?” 

The other boy suddenly sighs. “You won’t believe it- they rejected me!” Jaeyun looks completely shocked, eyebrows furrowed together. 

“I know! And then they had the audacity to ask me if I could instead be a prop decorator when I’m meant to be on stage!” Sunoo groans.

“That’s mean,” Heeseung frowns. (He keeps popping up out of nowhere, he’s like a ninja, it’s starting to actually scare Sunghoon).

“But then something happened on my walk home,” Sunoo hums, rummaging through his pocket. “Some guy stopped me when I was getting ice cream, he said to call him and I could become an idol!” Sunoo flashes the fancy business card in front of all his friends. 

“Is that real?” Riki swipes it, observing both sides of the cardstock. The card gets passed around, and everyone gets a good look before it’s returned to Sunoo.

"Belift Lab? What kind of stupid company name is that?" Jungwon scoffs as he reads the card.

“Do you guys think I should do it? Being an idol sounds fun.” Sunoo smiles. That is until Jaeyun shakes his head. “Sure yeah you’re famous, but don’t you want to be an actor? That’s pretty different.”

“True, you could be training for years before you debut, or maybe you don’t debut at all,” Jungwon adds.

“Riki A’s older brother almost became an idol, he says he trained for like almost 3 years.” Riki comments.

“Oh gross, I think I’ll just stick to acting.” Sunoo tosses the card into a nearby trash can. 

“Was he from a good company?” Sunghoon asks. Sunoo shrugs. “Don’t know, I've never heard of them.”

“Sounds sketchy, probably good you didn’t say yes.” Jungwon agrees. 

As the six of them continue on their walk to school, there’s the familiar sound of a thud behind them, causing them all to turn. 

“Fuck, I got my pants dirty,” Jongseong grumbles as he stands up, dusting himself off. “You’re late,” Sunghoon teases, making the other boy roll his eyes. “I’m early actually, and I have been this whole week.” Jongseong argues.

“It’s only Wednesday.” Sunoo points out to him. This has Sunghoon confused. “What do you mean? It’s only Tuesday.”

The boys all stop, turning to Sunghoon with crazed expressions. “Sunghoon, it’s Wednesday,” Jaeyun shows his calendar on his phone.

He takes a closer look, stepping forward. Right there on Jaeyun’s screen it lists the date: Wednesday, March 6th. 

“No.” Sunghoon stumbles over his words. He looks up at his friends. “That means yesterday-” He chokes up.

“Dude are you high?” Riki asks, concerned. “Do you not remember what happened yesterday?”

Yesterday. Tuesday. March 5th.

He went to school, and then he went home. Yeah. No. Maybe?

Because then that would mean that what happened wasn’t a dream-

“You left home early, remember? Actually you ran out, Jaeyun had to drop your stuff off.” Jungwon clarifies, and suddenly everything clicks.

After humiliating himself in front of you and his entire class, Sunghoon didn’t even think about dashing out of the classroom. To be honest, he just kept running, past his homeroom, past the front doors, and right out the school gates down the street. 

“Sunghoon!” Jaeyun shakes him by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond, brain shutting down.

Sunghoon has to be wrestled into his seat. Jaeyun and Jongseong hold him down, trying to convince him to apologize to you. 

“Just say you’re sorry,” Jongseong holds him firmly down by the shoulder. “Yeah! I’m sure she’ll understand.” Jaeyun tries to stay positive.

“Please, please just let me go. You guys are my friends, can’t you just-” “We’re doing this because we’re your friends you idiot.” Jongseong argues. 

Sunghoon tries to argue, but is swiftly shut up when Jaeyun suddenly announces your arrival.

“Hi Y/n! You’re looking nice today.” Jaeyun sounds overly enthusiastic as he compliments you, his arms are not so subtly trying to get Sunghoon to turn your way.

“Hey Jaeyun,” You sound unsure as you get closer. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jongseong.” Sunghoon’s other friend greets you.

“Hi,” You say quickly before clearing your throat. “Um, Sunghoon, do you think we can talk really quick? In private?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head no, but his two friends decide to take matters into their own terms. 

“Oh, he’d love to! Right, Sunghoon?” Jongseong stares him down. Sunghoon clenches his jaw and rigidly nods. 

He’s released by his friends, and like a robot, follows you out of the classroom. He’d try to make a break for it, but he could feel both Jongseong and Jaeyun’s eyes following him down the hall. 

You lead him to a corner by the janitor’s closet, it’s a lot quieter as it’s away from the rowdy crowd of teeangers.

He stands far from you, not able to get closer than 10 feet. But you begin to close the space in between you, forcing Sunghoon to back up. Except he instead ran into a wall and found himself cornered by you.

“I was worried you wouldn’t show up today.” You begin to speak, stepping back and keeping a respectable distance. Sunghoon is as stiff as a board, eyes trained onto his feet. 

“I wanted to say I’m really sorry for what happened yesterday.” You suddenly apologize. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I had no idea you were scared of girls, Jaeyun told me after you ran away.” 

His best friend of the past eight years, Sim Jaeyun, revealed his most deepest darkest secret?! He felt so betrayed.

“But I want you to know I want to help you.” You say, and suddenly Sunghoon is looking at you (more like the outline of you, he still can’t look at you directly) with wide eyes. 

“I mean we’re seatmates and club members, we should be able to help each other out.” You begin to explain. “And Jaeyun kind of asked me to help you.” You add sheepishly at the end.

Sunghoon was seriously going to get his revenge on that kid.

“So what do you say?” You ask, rocking back and forth on your feet as you patiently wait for his answer.

Sunghoon felt trapped. On one hand, his looming fear of women was stopping him, but on the other hand provided a (very scary) solution to his big problem.

“H-How would you help me?” He coughs out. “I was thinking we could start by being friends? Maybe work on the small stuff.” You offered.

The small stuff, yeah, he could deal with that, right? 

Eventually, he nods, causing you to clap your hands together. 

“Great! This is going to be easy, I promise!” You grin.

It was in fact not easy.

All morning you would try to get Sunghoon to give you as much as a look in your direction, whispering to him random questions and facts to try and start a conversation.

When lunch finally arrived, Sunghoon had never run so fast to the cafeteria before in his life.

“I’m gonna kill you Sim Jaeyun!” Sunghoon is seething as he sneaks up behind his friend. Jaeyun’s signature smile vanishes, and is replaced with fear. 

“Sunghoon please-” “You told her?!” Sunghoon leads Jaeyun to sit down at their table. 

“How else do I explain why you suddenly dipped in the middle of class? I could’ve told her you had to take a massive shit, but I didn’t!” Jaeyun argues, tugging Sunghoon off of him. 

Hmm, touche.

“This was for the greater good, we all agreed on it.” Sunoo suddenly adds in. Sunghoon turns to his friends in shock.

“You guys voted? With Heeseung?!” He points to the (technically his) senior. Heeseung stared wide eyed, looking slightly guilty.

“We voted because you’re getting out of hand. Dude, my older sister ran into you at the supermarket the other day with your mom and when she said hi, you hid behind the cans of soup display.” Jungwon reveals.

“I thought she wouldn’t recognize me.” Sunghoon winces from the embarrassment.

Heeseung (awkwardly) claps a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Sungho.” “-Sunghoon,” Jaeyun whispers to him the correction.

“It’s okay, Sunghoon.” Heeseung pretends to have never made his mistake. “Everything will be alright.”

Sunghoon turns to him, lips thin. That one look has Heeseung’s arm falling back to his side. 

“Come on Sunghoon, stop acting like this. You already agreed to let her help you anyways.” Jongseong argues. The boy sighs, rubbing his face in despair. Even Sunghoon can’t believe he still agreed.

“I take it back, can you guys tell her I’d rather be a hermit for the rest of my life and never want to see another woman again?” Sunghoon asks, looking stressed. 

“Well don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure that’s her coming our way.” Jungwon points out, sipping his drink as he nods to his right. 

The younger boy proves to be right, you’re making your way through the crowded cafeteria, holding your tray of food as you walk confidently towards Sunghoon and his friends. Unfortunately for him, Jaeyun traps him down to his seat before he can run again.

“Hey Sunghoon,” You smile, waving as you stop at the head of the table. Jongseong kicks his shin, forcing him to respond. 

“Hi,” He grunts. The other boys snicker, finding all of this amusing. 

“I was just wondering if we’re still having Calligraphy club today after school?” You ask. 

Oh crap. With everything that happened today, Sunghoon had totally spaced out and forgotten what he’d promised the day before. 

“He wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Riki grins at you. The youngest sticks his hand out to you, giving you an enticing smirk. “I’m Riki B by the way, you like younger guys?” His question earns him a slap on the arm by Jongseong.

As Riki gasps from the pain, you chuckle awkwardly. “So I’ll see you after class then? At the old library?” You check, facing Sunghoon again. He stiffly nods, still not looking at you.

“Cool, see you!” You finally leave, going to eat a few tables away. Once you're gone, Sunghoon feels as if he can breathe again. 

“She’s pretty.” Heeseung giggles, earning quiet but strong agreements from the other boys. “You sit next to her?!” Sunoo sounds surprised, mocking the boy in question.

“Okay, shut up. All of you.” Sunghoon glares, his ears turning red.

“Don’t worry Sunghoon,” Riki begins to chuckle. “I won’t actually steal your girl, I’ve got my eyes on someone else.” He teases. “Just don’t get too butt hurt when she falls for my good looks and charismatic charm.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, deciding to ignore the youngest. 

“Speak of the devil,” Riki suddenly laughs. “Yo shortcake!” He stands up in his seat, hollering at someone.

A girl in the sea of students spins around, first looking confused, then angry as her eyes land on the tall boy. She promptly flips him off, before stomping away with her friends. 

Riki laughs, finding the situation funny. “I’ll see you guys later, with my new girlfriend.” He says confidently, dumping his food in the trash to go chase after the poor girl. 

“Oh this is gonna be good,” Jungwon begins to chuckle, pulling out his phone before following his friend. “Send me the video!” Sunoo shouts and Jungwon gives him a thumbs up. “I pray for that girl,” Jaeyun shakes his head.

“She’s gonna need a miracle to get rid of him,�� Jongseong agrees. “Same way Sunghoon’s gonna need a miracle to get out of Calligraphy club today.” Sunoo comments.

This was always one of Sunghoon's favorite parts of calligraphy: the setup. Being able to prepare and organize before he wrote felt calming in the sense that it was a comfortable pattern. He opens his box, revealing his multiple brushes and supplies safely packed inside. 

Relishing in the silence, Sunghoon carefully takes out sheets of paper, placing them to his right. Using water from his designated calligraphy water bottle, he pours a small amount into his shallow ink stone. 

Like a machine, Sunghoon begins to sternly rub his ink stick against the stone, breaking it down and mixing it with the water to create the dark opaque ink. He sets this to the side once finished, taking a piece of paper, and flattening it out with his paper weights.

With a deep breath, Sunghoon feels his heart calm down to a trill. This was the most relaxed he’s felt all week. 

“So that’s how it’s supposed to look, huh?” Your voice interrupts his thoughts and suddenly Sunghoon is reminded of why you’re here in the first place.

Across from him you sit, copying him as you begin to set up your own supplies. You do so messily, but nonetheless, you get the job done looking satisfied.

“Okay! I’m ready whenever you are.” You clap your hands together, eager to start. Opposite to you, Sunghoon is silent as he begins to dip his brush into his ink, carefully calculating his brush strokes as he writes, quoting a poem he enjoyed. 

“So, are you actually scared of catching cooties?” You ask, not so subtle. Your abrupt question has him frozen.

“Cause if you are, has anyone told you that cooties aren't real? It’s just a thing kids say-“

“I know.” He interrupts. “I just…” He loses the words, grimacing instead. You two grow quiet again, the tension in the air is thick.

“What are you writing?” You eventually speak up again. 

“...It’s a quote from the poem ‘Flowers That Bloom When Shaken’ by Do Jonghwan.” He explains.

You nod. “Well I’m drawing a cat playing in a field.” You suddenly hold up your paper, showing him your art. 

If he thought your calligraphy was bad, it was safe to say you weren’t an artist either. “Looks like a second grader made it.” He mumbles. You huff, grabbing a new paper.

As you both return to writing in silence, Sunghoon is able to focus and finish his piece, setting it to the side to let it dry properly.

He notices you suddenly stop writing, setting your brush down as you lean back into your chair. You sit with crossed arms, observing him. This has Sunghoon feeling like his skin was crawling. 

“Sunghoon.” You call out. “Let’s play a game.”

He pauses. “I don’t like games.” 

“Too bad, this is a fun one.” You assure him. You sit upright again and lean against the table.

“We’re just gonna ask each other questions, and we have to answer them.” You say it like it’s so easy.

“What if I don’t?” He fidgets. 

“Every question you answer, you get to go home five minutes early.” You prompt. Sunghoon’s eyes flit across the room to the door. Leaving early sounded nice.

“We get three questions each, okay?” Sunghoon slowly nods. You clap your hands together, excited. 

“I’ll go first,” You clear your throat. His heart begins to race, palms getting sweaty, and mind running wild at what horrible grotesque questions you could ask him. 

“For my first question…” You hum. “Why do you like calligraphy?” 

That wasn’t what he expected you to ask him.

“I-” He chokes, blinking as he tries to formulate an answer. “I… feel calm when I do calligraphy.” He answers slowly. “I can focus better, and I can relieve stress.” 

“See? Wasn’t so hard was it? Now for the next question, maybe try looking at me and not the table.” You tease, and he begins to feel embarrassed. 

“Now you ask me a question.” 

Sunghoon shifts in his seat. There’s been something that’s been bugging him all day.

“Why-Why did you agree to help me?” He steals a quick glance at you, before opting to focus on the bookshelf behind you.

“Don’t get upset when I say this,” You mumble. “But you looked really scared yesterday at the science lab. I got worried when you ran off and didn’t come back. I thought I did something wrong.”

You were worried… for him? You two barely knew each other and yet you still stressed over him deserting you in the middle of class. Even more confusing, you thought it was your fault. 

Sunghoon feels his heartbeat slow down.

“Okay, my turn again.” You clear your throat. “Are you scared of like all girls? Or just some of them?” Your curiosity seems to have gotten the better of you. 

Sunghoon tilts his head to the side. “I’m normal around my mom and my sister. Family for the most part I'm fine. But I have trouble around everyone else I guess.” He sheepishly admits. 

“I see.” You nod, and as you turn slightly, he catches a glimpse of your pouted lips. You seem to be deep in thought. 

“My turn.” He speaks up, already prepared with his next question. You wait attentively.

“Why did you join the calligraphy club?” 

You shrug at his question. “We visited my grandparents for the new year. My grandmother gifted me a set. I wasn’t gonna use it originally but then my friend convinced me to join the club. You guys know each other, his name is Kai. He said you were really nice and that you’d teach me.”

Sunghoon knew Kai alright. Kai was very close to his calligraphy club senior Soobin. The boy would often hang out in the club room last year when Soobin was around. He had no idea you two were friends.

But what really caught Sunghoon off was how highly Kai regarded him. They didn’t speak much, as both were pretty introverted. The fact that their little interactions were good enough for you to believe your friend was surprising to him.

“Thanks.” He nods, feeling a bit better about himself.

“Okay, my last question.” You drum your fingers against the wooden table. “Why are you scared of girls?”

If Sunghoon was being honest, he had a feeling you’d ask him this. He’d expected it earlier on, but there was no doubt you’d want to know how his fear started.

His words clump up at the back of his throat, refusing to come out as you wait patiently. He glances at the door and is reminded why he’s doing this in the first place.

“You can take your time, don’t feel pressured to tell me everything if you don’t want to.” You assure him, sliding back into your seat.

Your words help calm his nerves, and Sunghoon nods as he takes a deep breath. 

“I wasn’t always scared.” He says after a moment. “But when I was seven, I got bullied by the girls in my class.”

“Everything used to be normal, but then one day I came to school and all the girls were whispering about me. They wouldn’t play with me, talk to me, they’d just watch me from afar and gossip.”

“And it was just me, none of the other boys in my class had it happen to them. When I tried to ask one of the girls during recess, she screamed at me to leave her alone.”

“After that, I just stopped talking to girls. I feel like I can’t understand them, I don’t know what they’re thinking, what they’ll do, or what they say. Even now, everyone’s always whispering about me like I'm disgusting.”

There’s anger in his voice as he finishes, and Sunghoon realizes his fists are clenched. He releases them, swallowing thickly as he tries to relax. 

He slumps in his chair, hiding his face in his hands. Despite how horrified he was right now, he felt a bit relieved you now knew his secret.

“Please don’t tell anyone this. You’re one of the few people who know.” He admits. 

“Okay, yeah. I promise.” You say softly. Your voice brings him some sense of tranquility.

“Why don’t we go home?” He nods solemnly, and the two of you clean up.

You two don’t speak again until you’re outside, the brisk March air hitting you both in the face, a large contrast to the warm temperature from inside.

“Thanks for telling me all of that back there.” You say, gripping your school bag as you two walk side by side (albeit a few feet in between you both, Sunghoon still wasn’t used to the idea of close proximity).

“Jaeyun probably would have told you anyway, that snitch.” Sunghoon mumbles. Hearing this makes you laugh. Something about it makes his ears turn red, and it's not from the cold.

“Oh!” You gasp, jumping up. “We forgot, you still have one more question to ask me.” You remind him.

Sunghoon begins to think, not sure what to ask. Unconsciously he turns, more focused on hearing your answer to realize he’s actually looking at you.

“How do you actually plan to ‘help’ me?” He raises a brow.

You look up at him and smile, giggling to yourself. “You’ll just have to wait and see!” 

You skip ahead of him before waving goodbye as you head down a different street on your way home.

Sunghoon doesn’t wave back, instead, he stands there in the cold as your figure eventually disappears. It’s then does he realize his friends were right.

You are pretty.

Log 2: Tuesday - March 5th, 2024 | Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

reply/comment for taglist!

[nomairuins]

thank GODDD the doctor is taking time to work on himself maybe now he can stop ruining womens lives .

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part five | lhs.

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k

warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: lee heeseung’s solo part. next one will be jay’s. thank you so much for supporting my works and loving strip for me series. also, this doesn’t have heavy smut since i want to show the boy’s affection with reader outside the bed even more. anyway, reblogs and replies are highly encouraged.

part one; two; three; four

slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.

you got sick the day after. maybe because your body got overwhelmed and didn’t expect that kind of activity. they let you rest for as long as you like until you finally regained your senses.

it was almost 10 pm when heeseung drove you home. both of you silent throughout the drive. heeseung’s glancing at you from time to time, but you refused looking at him.

your mom isn’t really skeptical about it. its also a good thing that she didn’t wonder why the hell did you get sick the day after because you have no idea what will you tell her.

today’s saturday. you skipped school yesterday and just laid on your bed the whole time.

your mind is still occupied by the big question: ‘what are you for those boys?’

they did took care of you that definitely ruin the whole concept of you being their toy and made you confused. the switch up is totally odd as well. they’re always so rude and harsh towards you, then suddenly they went soft and gentle.

that tho, didn’t change the fact that you felt used. (name)’s words kept repeating inside your mind like a broken radio.

a faint knock on your bedroom door snaps you out of you thoughts.

“y/n?” its your mom. “you have visitors. your friends are here.” she announced that draws your brows together.

“friends?” you’re beyond confuse.

nobody ever visited you, and more importantly, what friends? while feeling a little disoriented, you forced yourself out of the bed then faced the mirror once.

the smile on your mother’s face is bright, looking so delighted. she feels excited by this visit she’s referring to, you can tell by how she ushered you down the staircase.

“mom, wait.” you tried calming her down because you can’t think properly on who those friends she’s talking about.

“come on! they’re waiting.” and finally, you made it to the last step then she almost drag you to the spacious living room.

your lips gapped when you saw them dominates the sofa set by the middle. its just the four of them but it seem too crowded. maybe because they’re all so tall and now the average looking sofa looks a bit small for them.

they all whipped their heads on your direction the moment you stepped inside. you cannot exactly tell the look on their faces. your mom smiles and tugs your arm lightly.

“they said they’ve been worried, sweetie. why didn’t you told them that you’re sick?” she pouts.

you blinked, pushing the tears back inside your eyes. its a bit annoying. how you planned to ignore them after what happened and now you can feel your heart warms up just by seeing them here. how all the courage to finally end it dissipates along with your anger for the four fine men in front of you.

its kind of sickening. you find yourself pathetic for actually letting them affect you this way. they make you feel worthless, but at the same time they’re the only ones who can make you feel special.

“i’m s-sorry, it slipped off my mind.” you sniffed and tried to hide the real emotion through a half-smile.

your mom totally bought that reason. she hums and then she can hear a faint ringing from the other side of the house.

“oh! that must be my workmate. i’ll leave you guys here, okay? i will order food for you guys.” she coos and then exits the living room, leaving you alone with them.

their eyes settles at you, flashing with an foreign look on it. that made you feel uneasy so you glanced away.

“sweets,” jake was the first one to approach you closer, reaching for your arm.

his heart sank when you yank it back, declining his affection. he looks surprised and he wanted to try again, but he doesn’t want to push it.

“why are y-you here?” your voice cracks and looked at them one by one.

jay looks concerned, heeseung have his usual calm composure and sunghoon’s brows are furrowed. you can’t tell if he’s mad or worried. he stood up, stopping himself to advance towards you. he doesn’t want to scare you.

“we just want to check on you...” sunghoon says in his softest tone. he licked his lips, blinking multiple times to try and calm himself.

your view of sunghoon got covered when jake steps closer, his brows furrowed hardly and eyes glistening with sadness. his hand hangs mid way, attempting to get in touch of you, craving it.

“we got worried when you skipped class yesterday. we tried to call you, sweetheart.” jake looks desperate. it slightly broke your heart seeing him this way. his mischievous smile long gone.

“but you ignored all of us...” it was jay who talked this time.

you gave him a short glance. the stare stays for a while before you pursed your lips to sigh heavily. chest tightens and mind all messed up.

“what happened, sweets?” jake steps closer.

out of all of them, he’s the most touch deprived. one day without you and he’s all over the place. not to mention that you’ve been ignoring all of them. none of their attempts to contact you became successful and its sending him in distress.

you glanced at him then took a step backward. it pinned him on his position, eyes blank. jake looks in pain, but you looked much worst.

heeseung may seem calm, but behind this composed demeanour is his mind being a mess. he’s in panic. he never seen you this way and honestly he’s not prepared. he gulps and tries to gather himself.

“jake...” he calls his friend to stop him from advancing more.

as expected, he didn’t listen and attempts to take another step but a tear escaping your eye is what halts him from doing so. they never seen you this bothered and terrified before.

“sweets...” jake almost chokes on air when he softly tries to call you.

“p-please leave.” your breaths heavy, and chest painful from thinking that you’ll be ending what you have with them

its messed up. its very wrong. the set up is fucked up, but you can’t deny that you’ve gained more than you lost from this—whatever you call this.

it may sound exaggerated, but you think you saw all of their faces lose color. their eyes flickers fear and shoulders hangs low after hearing what you said.

“s-sweets...” jake’s voice cracks, trying to earn some sympathy. he never done that. he isn’t someone so weak. he always know where he stand and his power he holds over people. but not at the moment, specially not in front of you.

heeseung clenches his jaw to hide his trembling lips. he unclasped his fist, realizing he’s been doing that ever since you’ve walked inside the room.

jay’s in shambles. he doesn’t know what to feel at the moment. he’s always been the nonchalant one. never shown that there’s a weak spot in him. but now that you seem to be slipping away from him, he’s lost. he can feel his heart aching, hands shaking and breaths shorten.

sunghoon’s silent. his eyes never left you, fists balled tightly. he’s cursing himself. for being so ruthless and aggressive. he’s blaming it all to him and his friends. they’re so selfish. and you’re just too perfect. you did nothing wrong. it was all on them.

“y/n,” heeseung licks his lips and this time he trudges closer. jake glances at him, eyes full of hope. maybe his heeseung hyung can fix this mess. he can, right? that’s what echoes inside his mind.

“angel...” he gulps and you noticed how he’s a little off right now. he’s far from the reserve and calm, heeseung you’re used to.

he looks... anxious. the fear and trepidation flashes clearly through his eyes. something you’ve never seen before.

“tell me what’s wrong, hmm? we’ll talk about it.” he says using his calmest tone. “we’ll figure things out.”

that caught you off-guard. if there’s something about these four men have in common is that they love being in control of you. they get off seeing fear and watching you submit to them.

so to hear him saying those words are new for you. talk? will they really listen? what if they just laugh at you if you opened it up to them.

those questions clouded your mind to the point that you didn’t notice jake approaching closer. heeseung wanted to stop him, but he knew there’s no preventing jake from getting close. its either he lets him or he’ll completely lose it.

jake’s warm hands wraps over your wrist is what snaps you back in to your senses.

“sweets...” he calls you. his eyes scanned your face and wait if you’ll resist his affection once again.

he gulps, hope igniting when you didn’t shove his hold off. he took a step closer and this time cups your face. your cheeks warm that sent comfort to jake.

“tell us what’s wrong...” he whispers, pleading. he rest his forehead on top of yours and shut his eyes. “please.” he added.

that made you cry. because you got scared. you’re afraid to confront them because it may end everything.

“what a-am i to you, really?” you started that caught them off-guard.

“y-you guys...” they kept their stares right at your face, waiting attentively to what you’re about to say.

“you treat me like a toy. you’re playing with me like as if i d-don’t have feelings.”

if the scene moments ago hurts them, then this surely broke everything in them. they were silent for a while. reflecting to all the things they’ve done so far to you. yes, they were a little less insolent the other day, but what they did to you probably made you misunderstand it.

jake was the first one to retract, “what? no, sweetheart.” he licks his lips and cares your cheeks gently. he shakes his head continuously.

“we...” he gulps, nervous. he locks his gaze at you and softens, tears brimming his eyes. “i love you.” he blurted out that made you hitch your breath.

that obviously is not what you expected to get from him. specially from jake. he’s the player, always have girls around him. you’ve never heard him say those words to anyone.

your eyes stares right at his desperate ones, trying to search for any traces of mischief over them. but none. sincerity and desperation is all you can see through them.

a warm hand rests at the small of your back then someone rests his forehead at the side of your head. his familiar manly scent invades your nose.

jay’s eyes are tightly closed when you try to glance at him. his jaw clenched hard as his hand bore onto your back.

“i’m sorry if you misunderstood us, baby. that’s not how we want things to escalate.” he mumbles so softly. nuzzling close to you, like as if it will help ease those pain away.

it made you sob. heeseung approaches and his friends gave space for him. he grabs one of your hand and caress it. while staring at your eyes, he placed a gentle kiss on it while the other two boys tries to hugs you. jake’s got his face buries on the crook of your neck, jay remains standing beside you.

“i’m sorry, angel. we...” he couldn’t continue right away. he gulps. “we didn’t know this is how you feel.”

tears streams down your face. continuously. and your chest aches, but this time its for a different reason. you didn’t expect any of these. you imagined them scoffing and laughing at you for actually catching feelings for them. they basically mistreated you.

jake tightens his hug on you, refusing to let go. his warmth envelopes you. jay has his hand placed at the small of your back, caressing it up and down. heeseung has your hand, kissing it from time to time.

the three of them whispered their sorries. they totally feel bad. as your eyes roams around, it caught sunghoon’s.

he’s still standing at his place. didn’t move a step. he’s just there, watching all of this unfold. his heart aches, that’s for sure. he wanted to come close to you too just like how his friends are trying to console you, but his feet are stoned.

he cannot do it. he’s afraid.

out of all of them, he’s the meanest. he says the most hurtful and degrading words towards you. of course, he meant none of them. he’s just caught up in the moment and to the thought of dominating you.

his heart drops at the sight of your tear stained eyes. all those times he’s been rough on you flashes back through his mind like a montage. he hates it. he hates himself.

heeseung whips his head back to look over his shoulder. he can see how sunghoon has his fists balled. how he looked scared. he’s never seen him this way.

“dude.” he calls.

jake lifts his head to look at his friend, jay’s watching too. sunghoon kept silent, his lips shaken.

“h-hoon?” you called him out, now starting to feel worried by how he’s acting.

sunghoon’s eyes stings as it heats up. he knew he’s tearing up, but he won’t let you see him shed tears. not because he’s trying to mask it ouy, but 'cause he knew it will make you even sadder. he’s scared that he will cause more damage.

his eyes met his heeseung hyung and he nods with a small encouraging smile. the four of them grew up together. they’ve known each other their whole life, so he knew why sunghoon’s not approaching.

its not because he’s mad. he’s being careful. and sunghoon’s never been like this towards someone.

sunghoon gulps then take small courageous steps. your eyes watch him carefully, waiting patiently.

when he’s steps away from you, his eyes softens and you saw how his hand trembles when he lifts it to touch you. he backs out, hesitating to lay his hand on you.

“i’m sorry.” he says in a low voice.

it was such a short sentence but the amount of emotion his eyes shows is enought to let you know that he has so many more that he wants to say.

your eyes scanned his face. slowly, you laid your hand out for him. its a way to let him know that its fine and that you allow him to touch you.

his eyes darts at it. he contemplates, but eventually reaches out. your warm hands sent comfort to sunghoon’s cold ones. it gave him life.

“i’m sorry, pretty. w-we’re really sorry.” he mumbles as he buries his face on your neck. his big figure almost covers you up from heeseung’s perspective.

they watch silently. thankful that you’re just too nice to even let them be this close to you. they exchange look to each other and knew they had to do something to make it up to you.

“forgive us, angel. we’ll do better from now on.” heeseung says and rest his big hands on your hip.

you looked at him and kept silent.

honestly, you’ve been thinking of ending it between them. the amount of stress and overthinking you’ve been going through because of them was unhealthy. you promised that after confronting them and if they confirmed that they’re just here for the fun, you’ll bolt out.

but... this is totally a big turn of events.

your lips stretched a little. a subtle gentle smile, but still visible to their eyes are what relieved them.

“okay.”

jake rushes closer and kisses your cheeks multiple times. “really, sweets? thank you! i love you!” he excitedly mumbled between his kisses.

you felt sunghoon’s big strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

“thanks, baby. we will try our best.” jay caught your attention when he rest his hand on top of your head, giving it light taps.

the corner of his lips lifts before leaning to kiss you on the lips. “i love you.” he whispers, like he doesn’t want the other boys to hear. like it was only meant for you.

jake steps in, the sulky boy in him coming out. “kiss me on the lips too!” he argues and pouts his plump lips.

jay snorted and swat his arms. you chuckles and lets him lean in for a swift kiss. his eyes sparkling after that smooch.

heeseung’s hands digs on your hip as he leans silently to drop a kiss on your lips. it was soft and lasts for a few seconds. when he pulls away, he remains close and smiles.

“thank you, angel. we’ll be good boyfriends. right?” he says and looks at his friends which they responded with nods.

you blushed, “b-boyfriends?” surprised.

heeseung smirks then nods, “you’re our girl.” he pinches your cheeks lightly. “not some toy.”

sunghoon places a kiss on your neck then pulls away. his eyes bores to you. they glisten affection and relief.

“our pretty girl.” he whispers and dips his head to give you a feathery hot kiss on the lips.

your eyes opens when he pulls away.

“we need to work on our issues in order for this to work. we don’t want another misunderstanding like this.” heeseung announces.

“do you have anything else you don’t like, angel? except from us being total assholes...” he cleared his throat.

your mind wonders. “i d-didn’t like what we did the last time. its o-overwhelming...”

they all looked at you with cute eyes then jay chuckles. “i mean she did passed out that time. her stamina couldn’t handle it.” he says.

heeseung nods, “at least we get to try it once, right?” he smirks, the memories of the night still lingers to his mind.

you blushed and glanced away.

“is that all, angel?”

you look back at heeseung and nodded.

“please stop being aggressive.” you reminded, ears turning red.

they almost cooed at how adorable you looked.

“we promise.” they say almost in unison then approaches for a group hug with you in the middle, making sure they aren’t squishing you too much.

“but we can still do threesome, right?” jake asks innocently that made all of you whip your heads at his direction.

“jake!” they all hissed at him for still being horny despite the wholesome situation that only made you chuckle.

“hi!” you shyly greets when you saw heeseung outside of your house, leaning over his black audi.

its monday morning and you’re beyond surprise to receive a text message from him saying he’ll be picking you up for school. of course you got excited. this will be the first time.

“good morning, beautiful.” he smirks and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

your cheeks blushed at his words then stomach churns when he leans in for a kiss. it seems so natural. like this is your usual morning routine.

“get in.” he instruct and even open the door for you.

once inside, he swiftly walks around to ride the driver’s seat. then off you go. it was a short drive, but it isn’t awkward. heeseung’s asking questions from time to time to start a conversation while a low music plays on his radio.

the moment his car enters the parking area designated for the students, you saw familiar boys. jay’s leaning over his car while jake and sunghoon bickers about something.

“oh they’re early.” you mumble because usually you arrive first.

heeseung’s always on time since he’s the school’s president. jay and jake arrives at school just on time. sunghoon’s the one always late, unless he have his morning practices.

their heads whips at your direction once they heard the familiar blaring of heeseung’s car. jake turns his back over hoon then waves like an excited puppy. he for sure cannot see you yet as the car is heavily tinted, but it made you smile. he’s so cute.

he’s on your side of the door once heeseung’s done parking it. he waits until the car’s unlocked and then open it for you.

“sweetheart!” he greets happily then hugs you.

heeseung shakes his head while smirking then unclasped your seatbelt for you as you’re busy greeting jake, returning his hug.

jay and sunghoon walks closer as well then hoon went to grab your things from the backseat. he naturally carries it, letting one strap hangs on his arm.

“hey, baby.” jay greets and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“hi jay.”

“i arrived earlier than both of them!” jake interrupts, proudly letting you know how he’s very punctual today.

“wow, that’s great jakey.” you complimented him and his eyes sparkles.

“yeah, right. you’re so childish.” sunghoon commented before leaning towards you for his kiss.

all of you walks on the hallways together. sunghoon and heeseung’s is a few steps ahead while jake’s beside you telling you about his dog. even showing you her cute pictures and bragging how she’s the smartest dog ever. which sunghoon quickly argues that his dog is much better.

jay’s on your other side, silently listening to his friend’s playful banters. he’s very used to it already and slowly, you too.

curious eyes follows the five of you. there’s a hint of surprise and judgment through them. some are whispering, some just stares with mouth slightly gapped and others just don’t care.

honestly, it bothers you. their eyes carefully watching you is making you uneasy. it felt so weird being watched that it makes you wonder how these boys got used to this.

jake’s warm hand envelops yours that caught your attention. he smiles, his red plump lips distracting you.

“don’t mind them, sweets. they’re just jealous.” he whispers, eyes staring straight at yours.

with blushing cheeks, you blinked twice. “w-why? because i’m with you guys?”

he shakes his head and leans closer, his lips grazing your ears that made your stomach drop. “because you’re ours.”

to say that your face turns red is an understatement. your heart races and he just winks then continues talking about other things.

when you arrived at the classroom, they’re all looking curiously. wondering why these boys are acting this way around you. as far as they remember, they used to bully you around. basically why you end up becoming a loner.

“here, pretty.” sunghoon says and placed your things at the side of the chair. you thanked him and he just smiled before walking to his seat.

jay and heeseung did the same but jake remains near you, pouting hardly.

“can’t i move seats?” he complains.

you chuckle and cares his arm, “go to your seat now, jakey.”

he sighs and wants to lean to give a kiss but stops himself. you did talked about them not to do pda in public or at least when around a lot of people. not everyone is open for this kind of relationship, you just don’t want any issues.

“jake, stop being sulky and sit down.” jay calls him then rolls his eyes.

the said boy just raises his fist and showed his middle finger to his friend. you chuckled and just sat down so jake can go to his chair.

eventually, the homeroom teacher walks inside for morning reminders. she mentioned the upcoming fieldtrip which slightly riles you up. you’re excited to go at the museums and such.

during the breaktime, the boys accompanied you. sunghoon and jake to be specific. the other two are busy on student council so its just the three of you.

“what do you want to eat, doll?” sunghoon asks while pulling a chair for you.

jake’s playing with the edge of your hair while watching you carefully.

“anything is fine.”

hoon nods once, “i’ll order for you.”

“thank you, hoon.” with a smile.

he smirks then squeezed your hand before walking off. jake and you sat down at the table.

“did heeseung hyung told you already?” he starts.

“about?”

“he’s taking you out on a date later.” he says casually while doing something to his phone. his forehead narrows, very focus.

“a d-date?”

he hums, answering your question with a short nod. he’s not looking at you, still hooked to his phone. “where?”

he shrugs, “have no idea.”

your heart hammered just by the thought of going on a date with thee lee heeseung. yes, they did said that they’ll make it up to you and that confirmed your relationship with them, but sometimes it still don’t sink in.

they’re your boyfriends...

your eyes caught the glimpse of what jake’s doing and you got distracted. its a picture of you. that was the first time you saw it.

“is that me?”

jake whips his head at you then smiled, “yes! i’m putting you as my wallpaper.” then he clicked something before locking it and opening the screen to show you.

its a candid picture of you. you forgot when it was, but it was obvious that you’re unaware of him taking that photo. you’re focused on something.

“beautiful, isn’t it?” his smug smirk looked adorable. he cocked his eyebrow once, smirking wider. “that’s my girlfriend.”

you blushed even harder. “stop it.”

he chuckled, finding you adorable. instead of stopping, he stared more intensely making you even more flustered.

“j-jake..” and you glance away.

“fine, i’ll stop.” finally, he glances away, his big grin not wiping off.

sunghoon arrives afterwards and the three of you enjoys the time together before going back to your class.

during your vacant, some of your classmates are doing random things inside the room. you find it a waste to just do nothing and remembered about the history assignment.

you stood up and instantly, four heads whips at your direction. when the bell rang and one of the students announced that it was your vacant, they all naturally gathered around you.

“where are you going?” they almost ask at the same time.

“a-at the library.” you answered, shy that all of their attention is now directed at you. its slowly becoming a habit, but that’s something you will never get used to.

“i’ll go with you.” heeseung was quick to stand up and fix his uniform slightly before carding his soft black hair once.

you gulped, “o-okay...” and your eyes dropped at the three boys who remains sitting down.

sunghoon smiles, “see you later, doll. i’m sleepy.” he reasons then leans over his table.

jay just smiled. jake have this pout on his lips. “i really want to co—” his words got interrupted when jay covered his mouth.

“shut up.”

heeseung covers your line of sight from them then flashes this soft smile. “let’s go?” he says and just like being hypnotized by his gaze, you nod your head.

heeseung ushered you to the library, asking what you’re going there for. once informed about the assignment, he said that he’s already finished with his so he’ll just help you.

you can’t help but to be at awe for this man. can he be more perfect? he’s good in everything.

he find you guys a vacant table and asked you to sit down. he said he will look for the book he used and you thanked him. it didn’t took long before you saw him walking back with a handful of books. strangely, he fits this image well.

you’re in complete trance when he walked closer then placed it on the table. he then started pointing the references he used and told you that you can gather information from those articles then summarize it to your own words.

that was plenty for you. considering it will save you time doing this assignment. with a small smile you thank him then proceed on focusing on the task. heeseung sat beside you and watch how your brows draws closer.

his grin grew wider and fingers starting playing through his lower lip. his stares never left you then it slowly trailed down from your brows to your nose and then lips. those damn lips...

he inhaled and licked his lip, cleared his throat in the most silent way.

now, he went here with you with the most genuine intention of helping you. but then his thoughts are starting to wonder into something... inappropriate.

you did said that you only disapprove of them being mean and aggressive, right? being horny is not mentioned. so you probably won’t mind if he fingers you knuckle deep right now.

god, just by thinking of it, heeseung’s already salivating.

besides, its not his fault that you look so innocent and very pretty looking all serious.

he rests his hand on your thigh that made you jolt in surprise. you blinked twice then turns your head at his direction. he’s giving you this lazy look while biting over his lips.

your chest hammered and stomach churns when he started caressing your thighs gently. making sure you can feel his rough palms rubbing against your exposed skin.

“h-heeseung...”

he raised an eyebrow, “yes, angel?” he asks innocently like as if he’s not doing trailing his hands upwards into your inner skirt.

“w-we’re in the library...” and you roam your eyes trying to check if there’s people near enough to get suspicious of what’s going on under the table.

“exactly. go study.” he says with a grin.

“w-what are you doing? they might see—”

“shh, don’t worry. just be a good girl and do your assignment, okay?” and he leans to drop a kiss on the side of your head, ushering you to continue doing your work.

after staring at him for a while and realizing he ain’t going to stop, you decided to just go with it. besides, you can’t hide the arousing feeling that slowly poisoning your whole system. your head starting to get fuzzy, core getting wet as he started to trace the line of your pussy.

you hummed, teeth sunk onto your lower lip in attempt to stop any moans that wants to come out. “ungh,”

he chuckles sexily, “try to be quiet. we’re at the library after-all.” he whispered.

he pulls his hand out then gave it a lick before dipping it back in. “open your legs for me, please.” he demanded in a very soft tone.

you’re already in deep thoughts, unable to even respond properly and just obliged his dirty desires. once he have a better access, heeseung pushes your underwear to touch you bare.

his fingers are hot and rough. feels so good. he started on your clit, rubbing it in a very delicious way.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he curses, enjoying how your face contorts out of pleasure. pleasure that he’s currently giving you.

“h-hee..” you calls him.

he smirks, loving the way you’re so needy for his fingers.

“all right, i'm going in angel. focus on your assignment.” he stated like as if its even possible to do that. but you tried to pull yourself together. heaved a sigh then looked at the books in front of you. none of the words made sense, but that’s not important.

your mouth slightly gaps as he inserted one finger inside you. the stretch felt so good it makes you want to moan loudly.

“shh.” he reminded, chuckling.

he’s enjoying it. he’s loving it as much as you’re loving being finger fucked.

he didn’t stopped and put another finger. he let it rest inside, trying to take time feeling your tightness around his long fingers. he wants to imagine it to be his dick and he bet it will feel heaven. he shove that thought right away, he needs to focus on you.

“you’re so tight around me, angel.” he whispered huskily. “even after being fucked by all of us, you’re still so fucking tight.” he started talking in nasty way.

the way he say it in a calm tone just hits in a different way. you gulped and breath out, calming yourself.

“p-please.”

he smirks and gave you another kiss on the side of your head. he started moving his fingers that almost sent your soul out of your body. the way his fingers moved in and out in your tight hole just feels perfect.

he continues, slowly catching his pace that just added to your pleasure. one of your hand grips over his thighs, squishing it that he quickly find adorable.

“how i wish its my tongue inside that hole, angel.” he says that he truly means.

you whimpered lowly and tried to keep your eyes open. the words on the book starting to became blurry. it went on for a while until you feel a knot forming on your stomach. a sign that you’re already close.

“heeseung...” you calls out.

he chuckles then rutt his fingers even faster making you whimper softly. you glance at him and he already knew that you’re close. from the way your eyes are half-lidded and teeth digging unto your lips, you are definitely about to release.

he fucks deeper and just a few moments after you came to his fingers, head hanging low and grip over his thighs tightening. you shake lightly that made him chuckle, leaning his head closer to kiss you by the head.

“you did so well.” he complimented then kept on thrusting in and out in a slow pace, helping you ride your high.

once you calmed down, he pulls it out making you wine. he stares at you then shamelessly took his fingers over his lips to suck it. your eyes grew and cheeks blushed hardly.

“heeseung!”

he smirks, “i deserve a reward, don’t you think?” then he winks at you making you lose your mind. he’s going to be the death of you.

“bye baby.” jay smiles and kisses you gently before moving away to give way for sunghoon. he’s already holding his helmet by one of his hand.

“bye, pretty.” he says with a playful grin over you.

you smiled before pouting, “please drive safely.”

his eyes soften after what you said and leans in again for another kiss. “i will, i promise.”

you nodded and a sulking jake came into your view.

“bye sweets.” he says half-heartedly that made you chuckle then insisted for a kiss just to ease his bad mood.

sunghoon rolls his eyes then grabbed his sulking friend by his uniform and drag him out of there. jake complains and started to argue, but jay helped to drag him away.

heeseung sighs and snaked his arm over your waist, “let’s go?”

you glance at him then nod your head once before going to his car. he opened the door like always and guides your inside.

“where are we going?”

he glances, “i’m taking you to our small vacation house by the lake.” he smiles.

you smiled back, “hmm. okay.”

“i called your mom and told her i’ll get you home a little late.”

“you called her?” you’re surprised he even remembered telling it to her.

“yes. i don’t want her to be worried or get you in trouble.” he says while eyes fixed at the road.

you pout your lips and looked at more with so much adoration. that was so sweet of him. you can feel your heart races and butterflies going crazy inside your stomach.

heesueng notices your stares and chuckles, “why?”

you shake your head, “its just you’re so sweet. it makes my heart melt.”

his smile grew wider, totally proud that he made you feel more special.

“anything for you.”

he said it will took a bit time to get there so you guys went to drive thru so he can buy some food you can eat while on the way. while on the way, you naturally fall into conversations, giggling and teasing each other.

it feels so good. heeseung used to be very intimidating for you. his serious demeanor and the way he seems so calm about everything just makes you feel agitated around him. but eventually, he starts to feel warm. like someone you can entrust yourself fully. they all feel that way, honestly. but heeseung’s the most reliable one, you must admit.

when he noticed your eyelids looking heavier, he chuckles and told you that you can sleep for a while.

“but how about you?” feeling a little bad that you’ll leave him driving.

he smiles assuringly, “i’ll be fine, angel.”

and with that you slowly dozed off. he lets you sleep until you’re already pulling over the driveway of their small vacation house. its not particularly small. its actually above average, but maybe for people like him who probably have many vacation houses, this is small for him.

“careful.” he mumbled and quickly reaches for your hand when the rocky path greets you.

the house is very cozy and simple. the clear view of the lake can be seen from the big glass windows. it was beautiful.

“you can go roam around while i set our food inside the fridge.” heeseung says then kisses you at the head before heading to the kitchen.

your eyes wanders around with curiosity and admiration. everything looks expensive. your eyes darted at the table filled with picture frames. with full curiosity, your feet trudges closer.

“wow...” was the first word that came out from your mouth. you can see pictures of their family. his dad and mom. him and his older brother.

“cutie!” you exclaimed when you saw heeseung’s baby picture. he does resembles him that you can tell right away that it was him.

your smiling ear to ear then fished your phone to take a snap of that pic. after getting satisfied with your shots, you slowly head over the small balcony where you can see the lake.

“wow, its so refreshing.” you mumble under your breath then leaned over the railings, letting the wind blow onto you.

you jolted when a pair of arms wrapped over your waist. “enjoying the view?”

“y-yes.”

heeseung kisses your cheeks then place his chin on your shoulder. the two of you admired the view while holding that position. the breeze is kind of cold, but heeseung’s hug kept you warm.

“do you want to walk around for a bit before we start dinner?” he asks then finally pulls away.

your eyes sparkles, “yes!”

he chuckles, finding you adorable then leans down. “give me a kiss first.”

your cheeks blushed then blinked twice. the two of your stares at each other for a while until you decided to give in to his request. a big satisfied smile spread across his handsome face then stand back up.

“let’s go.” and he intertwined your fingers.

looking at the lake in a much nearer distance gave you comfort and peace. you never thought watching the soft currence while holding heeseung’s warm hands can make your heart race.

“do you know when i started liking you?” heeseung breaks the silence.

you craned your neck to glance at him, eyes flashing curiosity. “when?”

he stares at your for a while before chuckling lightly then pinching your cheeks.

“you look adorable, but i have to resist. come on, try to guess.”

his compliment and how he said that using his softest tone soothes something in your heart. it made you blush instantly. despite all of it, you tried to guess like how he requested.

“when you started this thing with me?” that was the first one that came in your mind.

you barely remember any interaction with lee heeseung before all of this.

his brows narrowed, “this thing?” he sighs. “relationship, angel. that’s how you call it properly.” he says using a salty tone.

you chuckled and just nods as acknowledgement. he kept his stares, his eyes returning to being gentle and full of affection. a small genuine smile then appears over his lips.

heeseung’s out of words to describe how precious you are for him. he’s usually good on saying the things he wanted to say, but with you his thoughts are starting to be messed up. there’s just so much he wanted to say yet he don’t know where to start.

“it was on seventh grade.” he stated that made your lips gap.

7th grade? but you’re already on eleventh grade. still surprised, you cannot say anything.

“during that time i experienced my first loss. it may be nothing for a normal high-school kid, but for someone who comes from a perfectionist family who doesn’t accept defeat, it is a pretty big deal.”

instantly, you feel slightly bad. of course, you’ve heard about his family. they are pretty strict when it comes to him. maybe that’s why he’s very reserved because he has no time for failure. they’ve put too much pressure on him.

your free hand extends and travels from his arm towards his neck, up to his face. slowly, he relaxes to your touch.

“i remember feeling so worthless while staring blankly at my silver medal.” he resumes telling you the story.

“while i stare with despair at it, already imagining the disappointed look from my father, someone approaches me.” he stops.

“guess who?” he smirks. “i'll give you a clue.” then smirk grew wider.

“she’s very pretty and currently holding me softly right now.”

“me?” you wonder.

he nods. “you were pretty amazed at my silver medal.” he states, a big smile on his face now.

just the emotion he was showing was enough to tell how delighted he is by reminiscing that moment.

“i was actually annoyed at first because i thought you were mocking me.” he chuckled and you pout jokingly.

“hey, you’re so judgemental.”

he shrugs his shoulders. “can’t blame me, angel. i was still very introverted that time.”

“you’re still a little introvert now.”

he cocked his eyebrow and you did the same thing, staring back. that made him chuckle.

“okay, maybe you’re right.” he surrenders then drop a kiss on your forehead.

“and then what happened?” you curiously asked.

he smiled. “then i told you harshly that what’s so great for second place?” he continued.

you grow silent then tries hard to recall the memory.

“and then you said,” you glanced at him, eyes starting to water a bit.

“that there’s nothing wrong with being second place. that it doesn’t mean that you failed or you didn’t won. that instead of being sad, you should take it as a chance to become better. that it only means you still have a room to grow.” you finished it that made him smile.

“right...”

“hee...” eyes brimming with tears already. “that was years ago.” you stated, couldn’t believe that he started to get interested that time.

his eyes dropped at your intertwined hand and he raised it to gently place a kiss on top of it.

“hee...” you mumbled again, this time voice cracking a little.

he smiles, “sorry if we approached you the wrong way. we just really don’t know what to do.” his eyes sparkles, getting a bit teary as well.

“i-it’s okay... i didn’t know.”

he chuckles, “obviously. you’re too dense to notice.”

“hey!” you playfully shoot him glares that he just laughed at before leaning in to give you a kiss.

the two of you stared at each other affectionately, enough to communicate what your hearts wants to tell one another.

“i know that with all the responsibilities and the expectation from your parents, it felt heavy. like you feel that you can’t be flawed.” you started.

“but for me you’re just perfect the way you are. with your achievements and failures.” those words tugs his heartstrings, a tear escaping his eye.

the moment you two steps inside the vacation house, heeseung’s lips are attached to you. his kisses are gentle yet passionate. his hands holds you closely to his hot body.

his kisses moves from your lips, down to your chin then neck making sure to suck on your skin making you moan, fingers tangled on his hair.

he slid his arm over your legs then carries you towards the bedroom. he went back to your lips and kisses you once again.

he gently placed you on the bed hovering above you, his hand starting to remove your clothes. and you let him.

when he pulls away, you try to even chase him that made him chuckle.

“wait, angel. i’ll just remove my clothes.”

your eyes trailed down his now erect member.

“d-do you want me to...?”

he smiles then shakes his head, “no. today, its just about you.”

then he kisses you again, resuming on discarding every clothing that you still have on you. once fully unclothed, he positions himself in front of you. he started rubbing his head on your now wet core.

your brows narrowed and whimpers sexily.

“i’ll go in now, okay?” he glanced at you and a nod is all you gave him.

and while your eyes staring back at each other, heeseung pushes his dick inside. the stretch feels so good, his thick cock making you moan his name. it made him satisfied, hearing you getting comfortable on letting out your moans.

“that’s right, let me hear you.” he whispered then pinned your hand on the sides, intertwining his fingers to yours.

he lets you get more comfortable with having him inside and connects his lips on yours again, couldn’t get enough of your lips. his tongue pushes in, wanting to taste every insides of your mouth.

when he started to move, your head starts to get blank. nothing inside but the man above you and making you feel this good.

he slides in and out. starting with a slow pace then going faster. he thrusts deep and fast sending so much pleasure.

“heeseung...” you moaned after his lips moves away.

“i love you, angel.” he suddenly said that made your heart jumped. you didn’t have the chance to say anything as he leans in for a peck.

“i love you so damn much.” and then start thrusting even faster.

“i...” you pursed your lips, eyes shuts as the pleasure from his dick takes away your ability to think and speak properly.

“i..” you attempted again, opening your eyes so you can look at his pretty face.

“love you too...” you finally finished it.

heeseung’s heart thumped faster and he fucked you even harder. he smiles and leans in for another heated kiss. he loves and adore you.

he continues drilling his cock inside until he felt you tightening around him, indicating the approaching release. he kisses your chin.

“cumming for me, angel?”

you open your mouth, “yes. feel so good.”

he smirks, “i know. pussy so good for me.” and then he rut his cock deeper.

“i’m cumming too..” he announces, feeling the knot on his stomach.

“cum with me.” he orders then attach his lips before going rapidly.

not long after you came around heeseung then he filled you with his hot cum. he pulls away to look at your fucked out face, brushing off some hair. he smiles.

“i love you.” he whispers, still going in and out but in a slower pace. riding both your highs.

you opened your eyes and reaches for his face. this time, you lift your head to give him a sweet kiss with a smile on your face. then you laid back down, staring lovingly at him.

his thrust starts to go faster again and a playful smirk spreads across his handsome face, some of his hairs sticks on his forehead due to sweat.

“round two, angel.” and then you let out a whimper from both pleasure and overstimulation.

the two of you spent the rest of the time just going for each other. heeseung making sure you felt how special you are for him.

lee heeseung is scared of failing. always aiming to be the best and to be perfect. he’s too obsessed on pleasing his parents to the point that he almost lose himself. but with you, he felt at ease. he felt safe and confident knowing that despite all his flaws and just being his true self, he’s still admirable.

tag-list

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[rafesproperty]

Rafe Cameron x Reader GF <3

Rafe with a girlfriend that loves to read. He doesn’t get it. Really. But he’d do anything to make his girl happy. ❤️‍🩹

Just Rafe being disgustingly sweet and spoiling reader…

I wanna make a part 2 where he finds out about annotating cuz that scenario is just hillarious to me 😭 lmk if you want it!

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Hey, baby,” Rafe mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, it was early in the morning and his voice was still rough, his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he reached for your coffee and took a sip. You were staying at Tannyhill for a while because his dad was on some family trip with Sarah and Rose.

You chuckled and reached for your coffee, snatching it from his hand. “Morning.”

He started to make coffee for himself as well, you’d normally admire his back in the white shirt he was wearing, but you were almost finished with your book so you kept reading, eyes glued to the page. Rafe noticed and looked over his shoulder at you. “Wheezie’s still sleeping?” His eyes trailed down to the table, one singular book laying there but a bunch of mini colorful papers and pens laying around it. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed there was no notebook tho. Weird.

“Mhm,” you gave a quick nod, clearly more focused on the text in your book than on him. “Made you some waffles.” You added and kept reading the page quickly. Suddenly you let out a gasp.

“What?” Rafe quickly turned around, his flight fight or fight mode on immediately. Then he let out a frustrated groan when he realised why you gasped and he leaned against the table, flexing his arms (not happy that you didn’t even look), and sneaking a glance at the page.

“Oh, my fucking God. I need to know the rest.” You let out a tortured moan and looked up at him, suddenly realising you were not alone and that your very much judgy boyfriend was staring at you. You felt your cheeks flush. “Sorry, um… it just… was intense is all.” You closed the book shut, avoiding eye contact with him.

Rafe grinned. “You’re so weird.” He mumbled and ran a hand through your hair. “So, so weird it actually makes you cute as fuck.” He whispered as he leaned down to you, you closed your eyes and purred softly at his touch. He smirked, satisfied that he finally got your attention.

You chuckled at his comment, looking up at him. You knew Rafe didn’t get it. He was very much reality-oriented and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to force him to read a book if his life depended on it. Yours maybe… but you’d probably die anyway. Plus there was no way he’d ever find the time in his schedule to read something. He was either taking care of business or spent all his free time with you and you only, and intended to keep it that way.

He went back to making coffee and you pulled out your phone, looking up the next book in the series you were currently reading. The thing is it was still a fresh release and everyone loved this series so it was sold out everywhere, hard to get and if a store had it they put an insane price on it, knowing some people would buy it anyway.

“30 fucking dollars for a paperback? Fucking assholes.” You slammed your phone down and Rafe turned around, giving you a look of genuine confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He had no idea what a paperback means, or how much books even cost. Thirty dollars sounded normal to him… cheap even.

“What’s wrong? Baby 30 bucks would be insane even for a hardcover.”

“A what?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking ridiculous. They put a big price on it because they know people want it and some people will buy it but I-“

“I’ll get it for you.” Rafe stopped your rant and sat down next to you with his coffee and the waffles you made earlier.

“What? No, Rafey, no. It’s so fucking expensive.”

He genuinely grinned at your statement. “Baby, it’s 30 bucks.” He rested his hand on your knee, drawing little circles with his thumb, trying to ease your mood. He was still sleepy, normally you’d admire how pretty he looked with his hair all messy and eyes puffy.

“No. That’s not the point. It’s too much for a book. Baby a paperback is usually around 10 dollars.”

“So?”

You groaned. Oh how you wanted to rant to someone about how stupid it was, but of course Rafe didn’t understand. Where was Wheezie when you needed her?

Rafe grabbed your phone and checked the location of the bookstore. You both ate your waffles and chatted about some other things for a while. He eventually got up. “Get dressed, we’ll go get it.”

“Rafey it’s really okay-“

“Shut upppp,” it was his turn to groan in annoyance now and you chuckled at his expression. “Wanna make you happy baby, I don’t give a fuck if it costs a thousand. Get dressed.”

There was no arguing with Rafe once he made up his mind. You were on his bike within a few minutes, holding on to him as he parked in front of the bookstore. He grabbed your waist as he led you inside, holding you close to him — it was a thing he did whenever you went to public together.

You immediately knew where to look for the book you wanted, but your eyes lingered on some new releases on your way over to the fantasy isle anyway, remembering you wanted some of them.

Rafe followed closely behind, texting Barry back on his phone about something.

There were two girls standing next to the fantasy isle and you heard them rant about how overpriced this specific book is and how unfair it is. You really couldn’t agree more. You reached for it and sighed. “Oh God,” you mumbled to yourself when you saw the price. Not thirty, but thirty fucking two.

“Right?!” One of the girls looked at you, obviously also pissed off. “I mean, how greedy can they get.” She ranted.

“Yeah I threw a tantrum when I saw how much it is this morning.” You laughed and she laughed as well, the other girl adding in her own complaining and you were chatting about it for a while, talking about the events of the first book in the series. Rafe was behind you for a while but he got annoyed with Barrys shit over the phone so he found a chair to sit on and let you talk to the girls.

“Right, um, I’ll get going.” You eventually said to the girls when you noticed Rafe was now just scrolling on his phone. You didn’t really wanna keep him waiting.

“Wait you’re actually buying it?!”

“Um,” you let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, well, no… my um, boyfriend’s getting it for me.” You admitted, you didn’t want to brag but you also didn’t want to say you’re getting it and take the credit for something he’s paying for.

“Oh wow, lucky.” One of the girls smiled, sneaking a glance at him. You could tell just from the look in her eyes that she found Rafe scary. Most people did.

“I’m jealous,” the other whispered, whether about your boyfriend or the book was not clear. You smiled and said your goodbye, and went over to Rafe who was now on his feet, leaning against the wall.

He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw you only came back with that one book. “Did you fucking read the whole thing already?”

“What do you mean?” You grinned, ignoring his grumpiness.

“I thought you were picking shit. What were you doing?”

“Oh no, I was chatting with some girls. Sorry. They also had a lot to say about the pricing.” You smiled at him apologetically.

“Well yeah, but go pick more books.” He said annoyed. He didn’t really mind waiting for you but he didn’t understand why you only grabbed one.

“No, baby, this one’s already overpriced as fuck I don’t wanna-“

“For Gods sake Y/N, we’re already here. Get more. Wanna spoil you baby.” He brushed his finger against your cheek and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him and tried to hide your blush.

“Okay, alright. Can you—“

“Mhm,” he knew what you were asking immediately and grabbed the one you already had so you can go look at some more.

You were walking around the isles, checking out a bunch of books. You’d lie if you said you didn’t want almost every single one. As you were reading the back of some modern romance Rafe appeared behind you, he came closer to you and put one hand next to your head, leaning against you. You could feel his breath at the back of your neck and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Isn’t that just about sex?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, not noticing that the girls you were chatting to earlier were standing next to you and Rafe.

He seemed genuinely confused. “Why’d you read about it when we can do it?”

“Rafe,” you laughed again and turned around to face him, giving him a look, blushing when you noticed there were other people too.

“What? I’m serious. Bet I can make you feel better than some words on paper.” He brushed his hand against your back and you felt your whole body tense up… that is until you heard the girls next to you giggle.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled, embarassment evident in your face. But Rafe just smirked, always eager to make you flustered.

“Besides,” you added, putting the book back, “you’d be surprised what a few words on paper can do to you.”

He gave you a susprised look, “Seriously?”

“Yeah where do you think I learned all my tricks?” You said jokingly and he grinned as well.

“Dunno, you were pretty innocent before I corrupted your pretty mind.” He mumbled next to your ear and nibbled at the skin of your exposed neck, softly kissing a mark. His mark.

Rafe smirked when he noticed the way your body reacted by leaning closer to him, and reached over you to grab the book you placed back. “So we’re buying it?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow. You were obviously intrigued by it, he thought.

“It doesn’t sound that interesting,” obvious lie, “’m gonna look for something else.”

“Get something else and this as well?”

“No, Rafey, books can get-“ but he just rolled his eyes and held it next to the first book you picked. Already made up his mind.

You knew he’d just get it no matter what you said. “Wait, it’s a sequel, can you—“ You looked up, not only was this store overpriced as fuck but they obviously also had zero respect for small people.

“Hm, here,” he leaned even closer, brushing his lips against your ear, trapping you a little, your back pressed against the bookshelf. “Which one?” He teased you with a smirk, his fingers brushing your hair aside to make the marks he left there the other day visible, his breath brushing over them.

Then he got the book you pointed at, leaving you shivering just a bit more. “Needing me so bad for everything…” he murmured happily.

Rafe figured quickly that you’d act all humble the whole time. You always picked up a book, read the back, smiled at it… and put it back. Every. Damn. Time. And after an hour of him waiting you had the audacity to come to him with only two books. He didn’t say anything, just got up, grabbed them from your hands and made his way to the cashier.

“Hey, princess, hold this for me.” He handed you the four books as he wanted to reach into his pocket for his wallet on the way. You took the books without questioning him, and he quickly grabbed most of the books he noticed you were checking earlier. He also grabbed the better ones, the ones that were more expensive… hardbacks? That’s what you called it, right? So quickly you didn’t even really get the chance to protest.

“Rafe-“

“Shut it,” he growled and this was the first time today he didn’t say that in a joking manner.

So you did.

“Everything alright, sir?” The cashier asked. Rafe gave her a quick nod and noticed they had some snacks — mostly chocolates — there. So he grabbed a few and added that to the pile of books.

He waited for the cashier to finish her job when you suddenly realised something.

“Rafe, wait.” You mumbled and ran off. He didn’t really understand but you came back with one more book a second later. He didn’t mind at all. Tho it didn’t really seem like your style, compared to all the other books… this one was colorful and seemed like some rom-com high school bullshit, but he didn’t question you.

“Your total’s $273, sir…”

You felt your body freeze. “Rafe you don’t-“

But he already pulled out his card without blinking an eye. “Told you to shut it.” He whispered and grabbed the bags with your books and threw his free arm around you, leading you out of the store.

He let out a sigh when you both exited the store and you were afraid for a second that it was because it really was too expensive.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

Fuck.

“The worst sugar baby ever.” He added and gave you a relaxed smile.

Oh… that’s what he meant. You felt relief as you smiled at him as well, laughing at his nickname for you.

“Thank you, baby.” You mumbled and wrapped your arms around his waist as you both made your way to his bike.

“Mhm, anything for you. Anytime.” He kissed the top of your head and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Wheezie was already up when you both returned to Tannyhill. She was excited to see all the books you got so you sat down on a couch with her and showed her everything, telling her about each one. Rafe didn’t really care… plus all the fantasy terms started to give him a headache so he minded his own business, dealing with something on his phone again, occasionally resting his hand on your thigh.

“Oh yeah, this one’s for you. I knew you wanted it.”

That caught his attention. He looked up from his phone and saw Wheezies eyes sparkle as she flipped through the book you picked for her. He felt his heart warm up. You really were thinking of his little sister too… He’s so going you wife you up one day. Probably soon.

He sneaked his arm around your waist and squeezed you gently, thanking you.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (36/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk part two - with new opportunities.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hah. you thought you'd seen the last of me. feedback is appreciated!

"Okay," says Charles and sits back down next to you on the sun bed. He sets the basket down between you, with the necks of various bottles sticking out of it. "Are you more of a vodka girl or a tequila girl?" He pulls out two bottles and holds them out to you. 

You examine the bottles before raising your hands. "Neither, to be honest." You carefully pull the basket towards you and take a look inside. Your hands turn the containers slowly so you can read the labels better, and when a bottle catches your eye, you grin at your roommate. "Here."

Charles takes the bottle you hold out to him. "Peach?" He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "Quite summery."

You shrug your shoulders. "You promised to take me with you next summer so I could go swimming in the sea. I just want to prepare myself properly."

A smile spreads across his face. "Touché. All right." He reaches into the basket and fishes out two small shot glasses. He places them at the head of the sun bed to fill them with the peach liqueur. "You'll love it here during the summer. The sun is blazing, the sea is cold and the days are long." He carefully slides a glass over to you so that the contents don't spill over the rim. "It's like paradise."

You nod gratefully at him. "So now you definitely don't have a choice."

He looks at you, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," you sit up straight and pick up the shot glass. "You talked me up about the boat and summer at sea so much that you definitely have to bring me here next year." You grin at him. "So you have no choice but to take me with you."

"Oh no." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and reaches for his glass as well. "So I guess I can't get rid of you at all, huh?"

You shake your head excessively. "No fucking way. You definitely won't get me off this boat in the summer. And the deal about us sharing the apartment is on anyway." You tilt your head. "Even if you really tried, you wouldn't get rid of me that easily." You hold out your arm so he can clink glasses with you. 

He looks you in the eye. There's a sparkle in his green ones as he knocks his glass against yours. "Thank God."

The peach liqueur tastes indescribably good and the longer you lie on the sun bed looking at the glowing Monaco in front of you, the more you drink of it. The stars above you twinkle and although it's getting colder, you're nice and warm. Whether it's the alcohol or Charles' laughter, you don't know. 

"You've met Arthur yourself," he says as you have to press your face into the pillow to stop your laughter echoing across the ocean. "I swear, his April Fool's jokes are the worst! And you never see them coming!"

You giggle into your pillow. "Tell me you didn't fall for it." Hesitantly, you peek over the hem of the pillow to see Charles' blushing face. You quickly push it back into your face and laugh. "Oh, Charles!"

Your roommate grabs his own pillow and hits yours with it. "Don't laugh at me! You'll be affected soon enough! And then I'm not going to be the one to rescue you."

As you slowly calm down and wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes, you put the pillow back behind your head and look at him. "Trust me - by then Arthur will like me enough that we'll form an alliance. Then he certainly won't play any tricks on me."

Charles looks at you, dumbfounded. "Excuse me? I thought you and I were friends! You're supposed to stand on my side!" With a shake of his head, he reaches for the peach liqueur and refills your glasses.

You grin at him. "I don't form alliances with people who fall for stupid pranks like that."

He pushes your glass over to you. "All traitors." He shakes his head again. "I thought at least I had you on my side."

You raise your glass to your lips. "I'm always on your side, Charles. You're my best friend," you assure him, although the sentence leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. You wash it down with the liqueur. "But I'm not going to let Arthur take the piss just to make you feel better."

"You're a great best friend," he says and pours the liqueur into his mouth. "Just you wait and see. I won't save you if my brother does decide to play an April Fool's joke on you."

"You wouldn't dare," you reply with a grin. "Your mom would give you hell if she knew you were abandoning me." You grab the liqueur and fill your glasses again. "After all, she likes me better than you."

Charles watches you fill his glass to the brim. He presses his tongue into your cheek before licking his teeth. "I wish you were wrong." He holds out his arm for you to clink glasses with him. "Here's to my family liking you better than me."

You try to suppress your grin. "Don't worry, Charlie. I like you all the more for it," the alcohol speaks out of you and when you hear what you're saying, the blood rushes to your face. You quickly clink your glass against his and drink the liqueur so you don't have to look at the Monegasque in front of you. 

As he puts his empty glass down, he grins at you. "'Charlie'? You're really going to give me a nickname?"

You roll your eyes and run your fingers through your hair so he doesn't notice your nervousness. "Don't worry," you try to play it down. Thank goodness he can't hear your rapid heartbeat. "I only use it when it's just us."

When you look at Charles again, he smiles at you softly. "I like the name," he assures you. "And if it stays your little secret and mine, I like it even more. It belongs only to you. Only you can call me that."

You smile at him before leaning back into your pillow and looking up at the stars. The night is clear, there isn't a single cloud in the night sky and the sea breeze on your face cools your alcohol-warmed skin pleasantly. You feel Charles lie down as well. 

"Do you want to spend the night at my mother's tomorrow?" he asks quietly. When you turn your head in his direction, he's already looking at you. "I usually spend the night there. Maman always gets delicious wine and when we all get together, the evening gets pretty long." When you raise an eyebrow with a smile, he continues. "And there are plenty of rooms in the house. You're welcome to choose one of them. I'd hate to go back home for Christmas," he adds. "Especially because my mom would be alone and -"

"Charlie," you interrupt him. "We can spend the night at your mom's. There's nothing wrong with that." You wink at him. "Besides, I want to have a drink with Arthur and then I definitely can't go home."

He exhales with relief. "Very good." He turns his head forward and looks up at the stars too. "It's going to be a nice evening. My maman cooks delicious food and then we always play something. It's usually Uno or charades. You've heard how Monopoly turns out for us."

You have to giggle. "I would really like to play Monopoly with you," you admit quietly. "And I would never steal money from the bank either."

Charles exhales. "I'll take your word for that. But Arthur is more cunning than you think. He would steal money from the bank and make it look like it was you. You definitely don't want to play Monopoly with him."

You shrug your shoulders. "Then again, maybe I'm smarter than you give me credit for." You look up at the night sky again. "Maybe I can outsmart Arthur and win."

Your roommate laughs out loud. "Then you'd have to get past me first. And I'm certainly not going to let you win just like that. Not after you said you'd team up with my brother and not stand by me when he pulls his April Fool's pranks."

Offended, you reach behind your head for your pillow to smash it into his face, but Charles is quicker and snatches the pillow out of your hand before you can hit him with it. "You suck, Charlie."

"You love me. Just admit it," he grins and hesitantly gives you your pillow back, risking being exposed to your attack again. 

But you merely wrap your arms around the pillow and hug it to your chest. Even through the feathers inside, you can feel how fast your heart is beating. 

"Of course," you try to play down the swirling feelings inside you and hope that he doesn't notice the trembling in your voice. Or the truth in your words. "I'll still try to beat you at Monopoly. Or Uno. Or charades." Offended, you lie back on your pillow and cross your arms in front of your chest. 

Charles sits up again and refills your shot glasses. He pushes it towards you like a peace offering. "Maybe I'll let you win," he smiles as you look at him. "After all, Christmas is the festival of love and I -" he continues, but is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. 

You look at him in confusion. You'd love to know how he would have finished the sentence. "You have reception out here?" you ask him as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. 

The Monegasque shakes his head and shows you his phone screen. "I had set an alarm clock."

You raise an eyebrow. "For what?" 

He points to the time with his finger. It's midnight and therefore officially Christmas. He looks at you with a grin. "I have a Christmas present for you." 

As he gets up from the sun bed and staggers onto the wood of the deck, you look at him indignantly. "No way," you reply, annoyed. "If I can't give you a present, then you can't give me one either." 

"Calm down, mon ami," he says, swaying slightly from left to right as he circles you. The alcohol seems to have hit him hard too. "I'll be right back." Without another word, he disappears into the interior of the yacht, leaving you on the sun bed. 

Annoyed, you sit up. 

The fact that you're not allowed to give him a present has almost ruined your friendship. Just the memory of his words that he wants nothing from you but your friendship sends a cold shiver down your spine. You would love to tell him that you want more from him than friendship, that you desire him, that you want him for yourself - that you love him - but no amount of money in the world would make you reveal your feelings to him. If he actually knew how you felt about him, you would certainly lose the only good thing in your life. And you wouldn't risk that under any circumstances. 

You run your fingers nervously through your hair. What could he possibly give you? You've never mentioned anything to him that he could possibly buy. And there's no way he'd change his mind in a day and confess his love for you. You'd have to be incredibly naive to believe that. 

It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do about him. It's not his fault that his words have torn your heart apart. And it's not his fault that he can't take your feelings into consideration if you don't tell him about them. 

You take a deep breath and smile at him as he rejoins you. In his hand, he holds a brown envelope, which he hands to you as he drops back onto the sun bed next to you. When you look at him uncertainly, he nods at you. "Merry Christmas, mon ami."

Hesitantly, you open the envelope and pull out several pages of paper, held together at the top left corner by a paper clip. You immediately recognize your name on the first page, with Charles written underneath. The rest is written in French, which is why you look at your roommate even more confused than before. "What's this?"

Irritated, he takes the pages from your hand and lets his eyes wander over the letters for a moment before he hits his forehead a little too hard with the palm of his hand. "Shit. I thought they'd printed it out in English," he says, handing the papers back to you. I'm really sorry."

You raise an eyebrow. "And what's this?" Your eyes wander over the paper, trying to identify any of the words, until you unsuccessfully put the papers down in front of you. 

"This, mon ami, is an employment contract," he explains with a smile and leans back a little. 

"An employment contract?"

" Mh-hmm." He licks his lips once. "Remember when Joris mentioned that he had a new job?"

You nod. Of course you remember. 

After you'd been to the place where Charles had been with his father in the past, you both went to Joris' and had lunch there. Joris had told you that he was starting a new job and when you had been there to burn Annika's things, he had talked about it too. 

"Well," Charles says hesitantly. "Joris was my personal photographer. And now that he can no longer work for me and accompany me around the world because of his new job, I thought - well - maybe you'd like to be my new photographer. You - um - you don't have a job at the moment and - well - I thought it would be cool if you and I worked together," he babbles in one breath, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You'd travel with me to the Formula 1 races and take photos there, but of course you'd also spend a lot of time with me in private. Which would be a good fit, as you and I live together anyway and the fans loved the photo you took of me at the lookout point. And the one you just took of me turned out great too."

Your breath is stuck in your lungs. 

Charles wants you to work for him? That you photograph him so he can post the pictures on Instagram? That you fly around the world with him? 

You'd love to throw your arms around his neck with joy, but you just grin at him. "Are you serious?" When he nods, you squeal with excitement. "You're really serious, Charlie? You really want me to work for you?"

"Of course," he admits openly and smiles at you. "You and I are best friends. Why would I want to work with someone else when I have the perfect and best photographer literally sitting right in front of me? I'd be pretty stupid to ask anyone else."

Carefully and with shaky hands, you put the documents back in the envelope. "I - thank you. I don't even know what to say."

"Just say yes." He leans a little to the side so that he can push your full shot glass over to you. "You'll travel around the world with me, get paid incredibly well and spend a lot of time with me. I'll cover the travel expenses, of course. All you have to do is take good photos of me."

You look at him in amazement. "I'm getting paid and you're still covering the travel costs?"

Your flatmate laughs out loud. "Of course! What do you think? Whether I give you more salary so you can pay for your flights and everything yourself, or whether I pay you everything, it's the same in the end."

Heat shoots into your face. "Then at least let me give you money for the rent. Now that I have a job again."

He shakes his head vehemently. "Absolutely not. The money is yours, you can do anything you want with it."

"Except pay the rent," you reply and get his pillow thrown in your face. 

"Exactly. Everything except pay the rent," he assures you. "So, what do you say, mon ami? Do you fancy exploring the world with me?"

You nod with a grin. "Definitely." You raise your shot glass. "Thank you, Charlie. That's the best Christmas present I've ever been given."

A blush creeps into his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Really?"

You nod with a smile. "Definitely. I can't thank you enough for that." 

The thought of being permanently close to Charles scares you as much as it makes you happy. As his best friend, you're looking forward to spending every minute with him, traveling the world and discovering the most beautiful places. And getting paid for it too. 

As the woman who loves him, you're a little worried about what will happen if he meets someone he falls in love with while you're traveling. You don't want to imagine the pain if he gets into a committed relationship with someone and all you can do is stand on the sidelines and watch him be happy. There's no question that he deserves to be happy - but the thought that the person he's falling in love with isn't you makes you feel sick. 

You try to suppress the thought and smile bravely at him. "It's absolutely the best present. Thank you so much, Charlie. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

There is a loving sparkle in his eyes. "I'd do anything for you." Before he picks up his glass as well, he pulls out his cell phone again and taps on it. "Can I post it like this?" he asks you and holds his phone out to you. His screen shows the picture you just took, with a simple caption. 

You shrug your shoulders. "I think so. But do you think it's a good idea to post something when you've had so much alcohol?" you ask him with a grin. 

"Oh nonsense," he grins at you and taps his phone one last time before activating the keypad lock and putting it back in his pocket. "I only have good ideas when I'm drunk." He reaches for his shot glass and holds it out to you so you can clink glasses. "I'm glad you said yes. I can hardly wait." 

"Me neither," you reply with a smile. 

He takes a deep breath before his eyes search yours. He would love to put the glasses aside, pull you onto his lap and kiss you until you can't breathe, until the sun rises, until the world ends. But that's just the alcohol whispering to him, he thinks. 

He knocks his glass against yours. "Here's to us."

-

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others tagged: yourusername charles_leclerc: ma mère approuve

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

><

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[redstarwriting]

his girl | ii. envy me

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, insults, spoilers, probably bad spanish, 42 Miles and reader get into a little spat, stubborn 42 Miles, violent 42 Miles, Miles and Miles almost fight twice

a/n: teehee and so it begins 🤭 didn’t expect this to turn into a whole series but i’m not mad. i hope y’all enjoy the storyline i thought up and please, by all means, give me your input! thank you all for the support 🖤 enjoy :)

previous chapter: i. his girl

now reading: ii. envy me

next chapter: iii. all the riches

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Miles, in fact, did not run. He was too taken aback to do anything, even though his body was screaming at him too. And he was too focused on your confused face. You looked exactly like his (Y/n), and it made his heart ache. And that is how other Miles was able to knock him out so fast. And why he just woke up in his Uncle Aaron’s apartment, chained to the punching bag, just like he did to Peter after first meeting him. He hears his uncle's music blaring from his record player. He looks in the direction it’s coming from. His eyes widen as he sees his Uncle Aaron. He’s alive. “Uncle Aaron?”

“Not your tío,” 42 Miles says, and Miles glares at him. “I’m just tryna go home, bro. Why are you doing this? What are you getting from this?”

“You said you’re from a different dimension?”

“Yeah. And?” Miles asks, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I was sent here by mistake! I just wanna get back to my world, man. Dad’ll die,” he says, exasperated, and Miles stares at him with a blank expression. “Your dad alive?”

“Yeah, of course, he is,” Miles says, and 42 Miles frowns slightly. “Oh.”

Miles normally would be able to piece together what the disappointment in his voice would mean. But he's a little preoccupied with multiple other thoughts currently to necessarily care to psychoanalyze his own behaviors. He also doesn’t have the chance to see Aaron’s face drop and see the sadness in his eyes. Or the way you immediately look at your Miles to make sure the news didn’t break him. “But he’s gonna die if you keep me here,” Miles explains, and 42 Miles nods. “Yeah. Well, you ain’t leaving.”

“…Please. You have to let me go,” Miles pleads. But 42 Miles just stares at him, unmoved. “Why would I do that?” he asks, placing his gauntlet next to Miles’ head. Miles frowns, placing his finger on the piece of metal linking the chains together, ready to electrocute it and make his escape. The other him stares at him with an unreadable expression, seemingly no emotion behind his eyes, and just as it feels like shit is about to go down, he hears your voice ring out. “Miles. Just let him go.” Both your Miles and 1610 Miles turn their heads to you. It’s the first time 1610 Miles noticed you were in here. “(Y/n)? Bro, why are you letting her around your business?” Miles asks, and 42 Miles shoots a venomous look at him. “She insisted on coming. This is her first time around this shit,” Miles hisses at him. 1610 Miles can’t help but feel a tightening in his chest. He wants nothing more than for you from his world to be here with him. Not even in a romantic way, at least that’s what he’s trying to convince himself. He just misses you. He chased you away, and now he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to fix it. His thoughts are interrupted when you clear your throat. Both of the boys look back in your direction. You’re on Aaron’s couch, staring at your Miles with such intensity it makes even 1610 Miles lock up. He can only imagine what it’s like being the one on the receiving end of that look. He sees other Miles’ eyes soften in his peripheral vision as he removes his fist from beside Miles’ head. “Mi amor…”

“No. Let him go, there’s no point in keeping him here,” you say, and 42 Miles frowns. “Not one to let people go, (Y/n). You know that.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Morales.”

“Damn, ma! Not even callin’ me Miles now?” Miles asks, an edge to his voice. You frown. “No. Not right now. Let him go, and we’ll see.”

“Why you want me to let him go? Got a crush on him or something?” Miles asks, and you raise your eyebrow. You glance at Miles, then back to your Miles. “Technically, yeah. I do. Unless you’d prefer I break up with both of you right now,” you say back, your voice just as cold as your boyfriend’s. “You tellin’ me you’d rather have this guy? Sayin’ this guy is like me? Estás de broma…” he mutters, and Miles looks between the two of you. “Not to piss you off more, but this guy is still technically you,” Miles says, and 42 Miles glares at him. “Cállate. No one was talking to you.”

“Man, why do you hate me so much?! I’m you!” Miles says, exasperated. He just doesn’t understand why this version of him is so hostile to him. They’re basically the same! Except Miles is a superhero and other Miles is a supervillain, but they still both have super in the title so how different can they really be? “Is this a call for help or–”

Miles gets cut off but 42 Miles punching the punching bag, right by Miles’ head. Enough force is exuded that the sand from the bag flies out, starting to pour down the side of it. His eyes widen, and you gasp. Even Aaron reacts a bit to it. But maybe it’s just because someone who looks exactly like his nephew is on the receiving end of it this time. This time. “Miles!” you yell, standing up. “What?!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“What I gotta do! You don’t get it, (Y/n)! This is the job!” Miles yells, and you roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Miles. This is the job? He’s you! Wouldn’t you be trying to get home if you knew you could save your dad?!” you yell, and he glares at you. “(Y/n). Don’t.”

“You know you would be,” you walk over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks. He subconsciously relaxes, but only slightly. You sigh. “You don’t have to be such a hardass all the time, amor,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “No comprendes, amor… I have to be this way. Or else— “

“Miles, he’s not a part of the cartel. He’s not gonna tell anyone here that you let him go… he’s not even from here. It’s okay for you to think with your heart instead of your head just this once,” you say, and he huffs. “Nah. I stopped thinkin’ with my heart a long time ago,” he says, and a hurt expression crosses your face. “Then what am I? A calculated move for you to use as an adavantage when you need it?” you ask, venom in your words. “No, (Y/n), don’t be estúpida. You’re mi vida, but him? How I know he ain’t just some experiment they made? To get to me?” Miles asks, looking at you with a skeptical look. You sigh. “Dude! I don’t even know what you’re talking about! I have spider powers, is that a thing anyone else here has?!”

“No.”

“Exactly! Why would whoever you’re talking about make a carbon copy of you with enhanced biology just to use me for this?!” Miles asks, and you shrug. “He’s got a point, Miles,” you say, and 42 Miles looks at you again. “Thank you, (Y/n),” 1610 Miles says, and 42 Miles rolls his eyes. “(Y/n) you have to understand that I can’t take no chances. You know that the cartel will go after—”

“I know. I know, Miles, but I really don’t think that—”

“You don’t know that (Y/n). You don’t know them like I do,” Miles says, and you sigh. “Miles. Mi amor. Mi vida. Mi sol, listen to me. If he wanted you dead, he would have done it by now,” you try to get through to him. He glances back at Miles, and Miles can literally see the distrust and paranoia in his expression.

He must have been through so much shit. This is a world with no Spider-Man after all. And all this mention of a cartel? No wonder Miles turned to the Prowler. It’s similar to Aaron in his world, he thinks. He thought that he had nowhere else to turn, so he turned to crime. But deep down, he can’t be that bad. Right…?

“Amor, I need to be cautious. I just have to ask him some questions before… letting him go,” he mumbles, glancing at Aaron. Aaron nods. 1610 Miles gets the feeling they’re not planning on letting him go. You must get that feeling too, because you shake your head, pulling your hands away from Miles’ face. “I can’t believe you right now,” you say, and he frowns. “(Y/n), please just try to understand—”

“No, Miles! I’m done trying to understand you when you never try to understand me!” you yell, and he clenches his jaw. “What do you mean by that, huh?” he asks, and you scoff. “I just. I need to leave. Before I do something I regret.”

“Like what, huh? Break up with me? Fight with me? Actually understand where I’m coming from for once?” Aaron cringes at that. You’re probably the most understanding person in his life other than him. That wasn’t the right choice of words. And you let him know it. “FOR ONCE?! Miles! Oh my god! Are you serious right now?! How many times have you tried to understand me?! I lost people too, you know! And I’m not out here—”

“Do you think I want to do this, (Y/n)?! Be fuckin’ for rea! I do this for you!” he yells back, and you shake your head, frustrated to the point of tears. “I never asked you to do this!”

“You didn’t need to because I love you enough to want to without you asking me to! You need it, Mamá needs it, everyone needs it, and I can provide it for all of you!” You angrily wipe a tear away, trying desperately to keep the rest of them contained. Miles softens. “Amor, no necesitas llorar—”

“Stop, Miles. Just… just stop. I need some air, don’t follow me,” you turn, hurrying to Aaron’s door. Miles steps forward to go after you, but Aaron puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Nah, man. Give her some space. She’ll come around,” Aaron says, and Miles clenches his fists. As soon as he sees you slip out of the door, closing it behind you, he turns to Miles. “This is your fault,” he says, pointing at him. “Miles,” Aaron says, crossing his arms. While he is also weary of this new Miles, his Miles isn’t thinking rationally right now. Then again, he is only 15. That’s why Aaron is here, sometimes he needs some assistance. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Aaron asks the other Miles. Miles hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. He shakes his head. “Nothing… nothing. Just… good to see you. Haven’t in a while,” he mumbles, and Aaron raises his eyebrow. That could mean a few things. Best not to dwell on it, though. 

“Who are you, really?” 42 Miles asks, and 1610 Miles groans. “I’m you, dude! Why is that so hard to understand?! I’m not a part of a cartel or anything I just want to get home!” Miles is frustrated. Seeing the world they live in from Aaron’s window, he gets why Miles is so… paranoid. But honestly, how long can he keep this uncertainty up? “Explain how you got here. And don’t just say ‘by mistake,’ alright?” Miles says, showing the claws on his gauntlets. Miles rolls his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man, right? And there’s tons of different Spider-Mans… men? Not important, there’s other me’s! And Spider-Women, Spider-People in a bunch of different dimensions, one of them, Miguel, figured out how to travel dimensions and we all met each other… except I wasn’t supposed to meet them because the spider that made me Spider-Man actually came from this world so someone here was supposed to get bit and I wasn't supposed to exist like this, but—”

“Wait… you sayin’ my world ain’t supposed to be like this…?” Miles asks, and Miles nods. “Yes. The people at Alchemax on my world built a collider and had the spider come to my world and it got out and—”

“You’re the reason for this?” Miles looks at himself, who is not even angrier. “I… n-no, but yes, I—” Miles gets cut off by a gauntlet getting placed way too close to his head again. What he doesn’t know is 42 Miles just put together everything in his head. This Miles was Spider-Man. And his dad was still alive because of it. If that were the case for him, maybe his dad wouldn’t have died. Maybe he wouldn’t have been like this. 

He could have had everything that was taken from him. 

“That’s enough talking, cabrón,” he growls, ready to escalate things yet again. Miles gets ready to break out of his restraints again, and Aaron gets ready to help Miles out. Then, over the music, they hear a scream.

A scream that undoubtedly belongs to you.

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[lesservillain]

v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?” 

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside. 

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling. 

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.” 

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her. 

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically. 

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn���t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately. 

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot. 

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around. 

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games. 

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that. 

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over. 

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between. 

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.” 

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you. 

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.” 

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time. 

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam. 

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours. 

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you. 

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door. 

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do. 

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open. 

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off. 

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head. 

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before. 

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him. 

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden. 

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world. 

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone. 

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation. 

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it. 

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road. 

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them. 

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you. 

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement. 

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.” 

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again. 

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow. 

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter. 

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel. 

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath. 

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.” 

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.” 

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you. 

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs. 

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips. 

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall. 

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster. 

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain. 

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping. 

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts. 

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment. 

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian. 

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances. 

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park. 

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags. 

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours. 

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie. 

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

 It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you. 

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral. 

Sure enough he was looking at it, too. 

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie. 

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him. 

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier. 

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave. 

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.” 

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him. 

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s. 

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours. 

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside. 

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room. 

 Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace. 

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered. 

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move. 

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—” 

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door. 

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. 

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986. 

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so. 

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max. 

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long. 

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in. 

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips. 

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening. 

Then it hits you. 

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

[f1rodrigo]

the mclaren boy mystery | part two

l. norris / o. piastri

summary: in which your boyfriend is a formula one driver for team mclaren and when you finally decide it's time to start hinting to the world, the internet is confused on exactly which driver is your boyfriend. pairing: social media au || lando norris / oscar piastri x reader fc: jazmyn makenna

a/n: sorry this took a little longer than i expected! it was so fun to make though. i didn't want to say who she's actually with because i feel like it's fun for the readers to have to figure that out too! so please share any guesses you have lol i'm interested to see what people think the outcome will be. hope you enjoy and thank you sm for reading<3

part one | part three

sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

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liked by yourbrother, maxverstappen1, and 101,225 others

yourusername happy birthday to my favorite brother, i love you and am so grateful to know i have someone in my life who looks after me like you do<3 here's my fav pics of us of course they're all racing related lol, our first love

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yourbrother "my favorite brother"... As far as I know I am your only brother 😐

⤷ yourusername 🥱🥱🥱🥱 technicalities

yourbrother Thank you least favorite sister, miss those days. Have to get back out on the karting track, been too long since I've beaten you

⤷ yourusername been too long since you've been beaten, you mean?

⤷ yourbrother Yeah, yeah we'll let the track times speak for themselves

⤷ user1 ok but we have to admit the brother sister banter is kind of adorable

⤷ user2 no bc she seems so sweet 😭

user3 nah because what is max verstappen doing in this girls likes now????

⤷ user4 and the plot thickens 😯

user5 she saw everyone calling her a fake f1 fan and said take a look at this

user6 yn hater club how you guys feeling right about now

⤷ user7 🤡🤡🤡🤡

user8 honestly kind of hope she's dating one of them

⤷ user9 yall switch up so fast please 😭😭

user10 seriously..... you HAD to only post f1 related photos lmfao so totally pandering to the landoscar fans

user11 f1 school of wags next graduate

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liked by mclaren, yourusername, and 1,891,218 others

landonorris DOUBLE PODIUM!!!!!!!! couldn't have asked for a better race, congrats @/oscarpiastri and a huge thanks as always to @/mclaren 🧡

view all 5,871 comments

user1 I SAY THATS MY BABY AND IM SO PROUD 😭

user2 mclaren double podium... oh i used to pray for times like these

user3 oscar piastri you are insane omfg

user4 MY POOKIES LOOK AT THEM !!!!!!!!! 🫂

user5 save me landoscar SAVE ME

yourusername jumping up and down screaming and crying losing my mind

⤷ landonorris you should probably get that checked out....

⤷ user6 THATS IT, ITS YN AND LANDO IM CALLING IT

⤷ user7 nah nah nah this is so giving gf of the bestie banter

⤷ user8 agreed hopping on the oscaryn train 💪🏻

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yourusername added to their story

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oscarpiastri added to their story

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liked by kellypiquet, oscarpiastri, and 789,012 others

yourusername qatar gp smiles <3 practice timeeee

📸 @/kellypiquet

view all 1,281 comments

kellypiquet so beautiful

⤷ yourusername all you

landonorris eye spy a mclaren car down there?

⤷ yourusername ? i just see a tractor

⤷ landonorris not funny. 😐

⤷ yourusername i certainly laughed

⤷ oscarpiastri same actually

⤷ user1 i dont know how much longer i can take this

⤷ user2 GUYSSSS i am telling you its so oscaryn

⤷ user3 WHAT literally look at the Proof its so landoyn 🥱

⤷ user4 i am giggling we're literally in a shipwar

user5 she's so pretty i'm sorry guys i love her 😵‍💫

⤷ user6 well yes!

user7 patiently waiting for one of the mcl boys to main feed post her then we know for sure ‼️

⤷ user8 at this rate it still won't clear anything up

lilymhe miss u beautiful

⤷ yourusername omg i miss u more ms lily

⤷ user9 she has The wag stamp of approval WE MOVE!

user10 theres four e's at the end of 'time'....... landos number is 4 i've got it guys 😃😃

⤷ user11 seek medical attention STAT

⤷ user12 bro thinks this is a taylor swift album release

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liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 789,012 others

yourusername oscar piastri sprint race winner AND mclaren double podium, better start calling me the good luck charm

view all 1,281 comments

user1 nah bc you're onto something.....

user2 she can't be serious 😐

⤷ user3 well no shit it's just an instagram caption

user4 i cannot be the only one who finds the caption extremely weird

⤷ user5 nah i'm with you i've never liked her 🙄

⤷ user6 its just so odd like forcing yourself into the mclaren narrative completely taking away from the boys achievements writing it off as your own doing...

⤷ user7 omfg yall are so dramatic just say you're jealous they're not dating you lmfao

⤷ user8 no fr because it is not that serious it's clearly a joke like she loves them cmon now

mclaren BRB getting your paddock passes for the duration of the season

⤷ yourusername i'm giggling, i love you guys 😙

⤷ user9 see mclaren is fine with it so yall should be too

⤷ user10 now i'm going to need all the haters to sit DOWN and shut the fuck UP

oscarpiastri wait can you send me that picture

⤷ yourusername i literally did already but okay

⤷ oscarpiastri ok could do with less attitude

⤷ yourusername you have not seen real attitude piastri

⤷ oscarpiastri 😧

⤷ user11 i think this just converted me to team oscar

⤷ user12 nah this is literally landoyn confirmation

landonorris 🍀

⤷ user13 i am picking up what he's putting down

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part one | part three

sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

taglist:

@landoscar-f1 , @urfavnoirette , @imsiriuslyreal

[cevansbrat0007]

Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude

Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going. 

You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.

“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you. 

“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?” 

“You really don’t recognize it?” 

“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain. 

“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.” 

“Who?” You stare up at him confused. 

That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.

“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”

You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents. 

“Ari?” 

“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”

As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just  be right over there.”  

“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”

“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.” 

Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.

“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.” 

And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return. 

Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.

“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.  

Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine. 

You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times. 

But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you. 

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.” 

“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”

“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”

You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer. 

In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.

Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson. 

“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”

“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.

“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.” 

“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth. 

“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.” 

“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options. 

On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.

“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.” 

Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch. 

“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”

“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.” 

The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous. 

Unless you were reading things wrong. 

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.” 

“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”

Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any. 

“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”

Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth. 

“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”

In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow. 

“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.

You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out. 

“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade. 

It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.

“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.

“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.” 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”

“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”

“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.

“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”

In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.  

“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard. 

“And just why the hell not?”

“Because we’re in public, you Beast!” 

Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.  

“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.” 

You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip. 

“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”

“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.” 

“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”

It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble. 

Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.

You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet. 

“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick. 

“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”

“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.

“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”

“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.

“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’

END

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[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part one

⤷ “can you see me? im waiting for the right time. i can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine.”

summary: you and grayson hawthorne’s friendship is one that stretches over a long time. its a friendship that you cherish with your heart, and it’s also one that can be far too confusing for your own sake sometimes. warnings: glasses!grayson, reader & grayson are so oblivious it hurts a/n: new possible grayson childhood bsfs-to-lovers series??! wc: 1.5k masterlist || part two || part three || part four

you lay on your stomach, propped up on your elbows with your face in your hands.

next to you was grayson, sitting up against the headboard, typing up something as he listened to you rant about your day. 

“he’s genuinely the worst teacher i’ve ever had, you know what he told me on the last non uniform day we had?” your legs were bent at the knee, swinging back and forth in the air as you ranted, your eyes on grayson, as his eyes were on his laptop. 

“he asked me if i got into a bike accident on the way to school, because i wore ripped jeans.”

grayson hummed, his eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to his laptop. “ignore him, he’s trying too hard to be funny,” he commented with his voice taking on a hint of disgust,, “and miserably failing.” he added, as he adjusted his glasses on his nose bridge. “you have better things to focus on than strange men with their strange humor.” 

you let out a chuckle through your nose, “yeah, i guess. very strange men indeed.” 

you didn’t really wait for a response, as you continued to talk about your day and little things that happened. “oh!” you piped up,“and guess what?” 

that’s how it always was with you and grayson, you talked — a lot, and he listened. 

—

you walked over to the corner where a little blonde boy sat, sorting a puzzle by himself while all the other kids sat in the middle, a big bundle of chaos, toys, giggles, and shouts. 

“um, excuse me? i have a question.” you stood, your hands clasped behind your back as you swayed gently side to side. 

the boy— who you later learned to be grayson hawthorne, didn’t answer, only looking up at you in curiosity as a puzzle piece fell out of his hand. 

you took that as an invitation, clearing your throat before you spoke, “why don’t you play with everyone else over there?” you asked, pointing to where all the other kids sat. it was halfway through the year, and he never once sat with the other kids, even when teachers asked him to. 

you always found yourself absentmindedly looking at him as you played with friends, wondering why.

he was silent for a moment, and you debated going back. “i don’t really like kids.” he said quietly, his eyes back on the puzzle as he looked for the next piece. 

you giggled like he had said the most outrageous statement ever, “but you’re a kid, silly.” you said, taking a step closer and sitting down next to him unpromptedly.

“well, i don’t like those kids.” he said, eyes meeting yours and then he looked you up and down, surprised at the fact that you were sitting so close to him. 

“why are you sitting next to me?” he asked, his eyes wide with surprise and question as he looked at you. 

“um…” you trailed off, “because we’re friends now, duh.” you flashed him a big smile, shrugging your shoulders. 

—

he also made you laugh, and was there for you, and gave you advice, and helped you when you needed it, and he —well, he was just a really perfect friend in general. he always has been, since you were in the second grade. 

“i’m getting glasses,” you said in a singsong voice, “isn’t that crazy?”

“you’re getting glasses?” he arched a brow up at you, with an almost-barely-there smile.

“yeah,” you said through a chuckle, “i think it’s the universes way of getting me back for making fun of you, way back when you first got them.” 

grayson let out a breathy laugh and looked down at you, his gaze unwavering. “i distinctly remember you telling me how thankful you were to have 20/20 vision.”

“yeah, well…” you stifled a laugh, “you know what?” you voice perked up, a hint of humor present. “at least i know i’m gonna look better than you in them.” 

a smile found your face as you teased him— though deep down his glasses were one of your favorite things about him. 

the funny thing is, you distinctly remember teasing him about them to cover up just how much you adored them on him. 

—

“we aren’t friends. i don’t know you.” the little furrow in his brows only deepened as he looked at you.

“okay, well, i’m your friend. you don’t have to be my friend.” you shrugged simply, as you searched for the next puzzle piece on the floor, putting it into place once you did.

he watched you in silence, like you were saying something completely foreign to him, “but that’s rude of me, and it’s unbalanced,” his brows furrowed, his lips almost in a pout like he was severely stressed about this.

“okay, then just be my friend!” you smiled brightly at him once again, “problem solved.” you added, the look on your face a complete contrast to his — which was very confused. 

“but, friends are people who just want something from you. family always comes first.” he replied, like it was a rehearsed line he had heard a thousand times from someone else in his life. 

you wondered what kind of monster told him that, and you were determined on changing his mind. 

“what? no! friends are the best people you can find in the whole world. they’re your ‘family number two.’” you told him, but he didn’t seem convinced as he stared at you. “can i make you a proposal?” 

his blonde brows shot to the top of his head, “you want to marry me?” his eyes went wide as he slightly scooted back from you. 

“no, dummy! i meant like a deal,” you hummed, “i think i meant proposition…” you mumbled under your breath, more to yourself than to him.  

—

grayson smiled at you, his gaze unwavering. “oh, surely. without a doubt.” 

you gasped in mock offense, bringing yourself to sit up fully as you looked at him. “is that sarcasm you’re giving me, hawthorne?” 

grayson didn’t say anything in response, only laughing under his breath and shaking his head, returning back to typing whatever he was doing earlier. 

“you’re so rude, i don’t like you.” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest, sitting so close to him that you could rest your head on his shoulder. 

his eyes found you on his shoulder. though you didn’t meet his gaze, you definitely felt it. “well, i’m stuck with you forever, aren’t i?”

“yeah, unfortunately for me.” you said through an exhale. “i’m deeply regretting my choices right now.”  you mumbled , but you both knew that wasn’t true.

—

“deal? what deal are you giving me?“ 

“you just have to be my friend until friday! if you don’t like it, i’ll never talk to you again. i pinky swear.” you swore seriously, raising your eyebrows at the end to add to that effect. 

“buuuut,” you added, your voice taking on a complete 180. ”if you like it, even just a little, you’re stuck with me.” you paused for dramatic effect, adding in a singsong voice. “forever and ever.”

—

you felt him chuckle and you found yourself smiling at the mere action. he seemed to never laugh around anyone but you. “you know, that may have been the single choice in my life i don’t regret making.” 

the way he said that nearly undid you. you lifted your head, sitting upright to see him fully. 

your voice came out quieter than you thought it would, with a smile on your lips. “are you being serious?” your eyes searched his face, looking for any signs of teasing, even though you knew you wouldn’t find any. 

his answer was short, but it packed so much. “why wouldn’t i be?” there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face anymore, and his eyes stayed locked on yours, apart from when they flickered down to your lips for a millisecond. 

“i…” you trailed off, literally at a loss for words as his eyes looked into yours. “i don’t know,” you managed to come up with, eyes glued to his for far too long. 

“sorry,” you said through a laugh, “i don’t know what that was.” you shook your head as you looked back at the bed beneath you. 

you adjusted the way you were sitting, perhaps subconsciously putting a little bit of space between you. well, you had to. 

you couldn’t ruin your friendship because of your silly feelings. it’s part of the reason it’s lasted so long. better to have hidden your feelings and still have him, than speak them aloud and lose him. right? right. 

—

grayson’s eyebrows knitted together as he watched you, noticing the little bit of space you put in between you two as you quickly switched the topic, noticing the way you didn’t look straight up at him for more than 2 seconds, and the way your fingers fiddled with each other. 

he said something wrong, didn’t he? 

in all honestly, he wasn’t listening to a word you said, albeit, you weren’t paying attention to what you were saying either, just letting the words fall of your tongue without even thinking; trying to fill the awkward silence you had put there. 

as he nodded and gave vague responses to you, he replayed all the other moments he had come so close to saying something, something about the way he felt for you, and had felt for god knows how long.  

—

you left his house a few minutes later, pretending to get a text from your friend asking for you urgently. 

in all realness though, you went straight home, lay in bed, and screamed into your pillow. 

‘why did i say that? why can’t i just speak about my feelings? why am i like this?’ were some of the many thoughts that ran through your head like clockwork. 

next time, you promised yourself. next time you would talk about your feelings — or — next time you wouldn’t slip up in the slightest, so that tiny crack that led to said feelings wouldn’t ever show.

you weren’t entirely sure which one of the two you were promising. 

a/n: this was honestly more of a prologue to set the scene, the real stuff comes soon i promise!!

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[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi it's me back again this time for the trope corner! my fave character atm is definitely remus and I'd love something with the trope roommates to lovers with him pls? maybe with a bookworm!reader if that's okay? love ya bunny 💕💕

roommate!remus lupin x bookworm!reader where he acts like he hates you but still there are new books lying on your desk every day

As a bookworm, your life has always been about books, shelves packed to the brim, and stacks overflowing onto every available surface in your room. And then there was your roommate, Remus Lupin. Tall, thoughtful, annoyingly observant Remus, who, despite his quiet nature and penchant for his own bookish pursuits, seemed to approach reading differently. He devoured classic literature and thick academic texts while your heart beat for modern fantasy and anything with a fairytale retelling. You’d always thought he found your taste… well, inferior. There were times you’d catch him glancing at your bookshelves with a slight furrow in his brow, and it made you think he didn’t really like you, or worse, that he found your tastes childish.

But then something strange started happening.

One morning, you’d found a new book on your desk with a small sticky note: "I thought you'd like it. - Remus." The title was something you’d had on your “to-read” list for months, a limited edition copy with a beautiful cover. You’d been bewildered, touched, but totally thrown off. How did he know? He barely even seemed to notice your genre.

From then on, more books started appearing, each one exactly something you’d wanted to read, always with a note in his scrawled handwriting: "Saw it and thought of you." or "Seems like your thing. - Remus." Each time, you’d been filled with a strange mix of happiness and confusion. Whenever you tried to bring it up, Remus would brush it off with a casual, “Oh, they were on sale.” Yet, none of the bookstores nearby had any sales at all—believe you, you’d checked.

Finally, you decided to return the favor. After sneaking glances at his desk and asking him (subtly, of course) about his favorite authors, you picked up a series you thought he’d like. You left it on his desk with a little note—but no signature. When you heard the familiar jingle of his keys in the lock, you dashed to your room, grabbed a random book, and opened it, pretending to read with intense concentration.

Only to hear footsteps pause in your doorway. You didn’t look up.

“Dove…” Remus’s voice had that exasperated yet amused tone you knew all too well. “Why are there new books on my desk?”

You looked up innocently, feigning ignorance. “What books?”

His hands went to his hips, and he gave you that intense stare he used whenever he was piecing something together. “Some new books that, interestingly enough, I mentioned to you in passing last week. Books I happened to say I’ve been dying to read.”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know anything about that. Besides, don’t flatter yourself, Lupin. I don’t hear half the things you’re saying most of the time.”

“Sure,” he said slowly, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. He turned, but as he reached the door, he paused, then poked his head back around the frame. “By the way, dove…”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Your book is upside down.” He smirked, taking in your mortified expression. “While I think you’re quite brilliant, I don’t think you’ve quite mastered the art of reading that way.”

You felt your cheeks burn as he left with a wink, and as soon as he was out of earshot, you grabbed your pillow, letting out a muffled scream into it.

The next day, a new book sat on your desk, along with a sticky note: “I’ll gladly accept more book recommendations if they come with you pretending you don’t like me. - Remus”

You bit back a smile, your heart hammering with a mix of frustration and excitement. Remus Lupin was infuriating. But maybe, just maybe, he was also a little bit wonderful.

guys i think i found my most favourite oneshot i've ever written

[kaciebello]

Wrong address

Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts.  She just wishes people would put the proper address on it. Warnings: mention cigarettes, no use of y/n Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. I want to spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) • Previously: Left on delivered • Next part: Too many voicemails word count: 1.1k

notes to deliver: 365

It wasn't hard to find the Slytherin boys, usually you could hear them from miles away. That is why sometimes when they want to keep their business private, they sneak into the room of requirements. Not only was it soundproof, but no one just stumbled upon it. Most importantly nobody knows they hang out there. Or so the thought.

The giant door slides open revealing a makeshift sunroom. Nobody should have been able to find them there, yet they are not surprised when they see a certain Hufflepuff girl with a yellow bow in her hair. She was fondling a note in her hand looking at it confused. She steps into the room as a door closes behind her, making her way to the number of sofas in the room. The room senses her presence, makes sure there is room for her, and even goes as far as giving her a cup of tea.

“ What you got there mail girl?” asks Draco before closing his eyes and soaking up the artificial sun. Maybe he won't get sunburned from this one. 

“ Note for one of you…” all attention was on her now. Curiosity reeks from the boys. They are not strangers to being delivered notes or letters from the girl. If anything, it became like a norm at this point. Not that they ever respond to any.

“Well dont keep us on the edge of our seats. For who?” Says Mattheo eager to open it and read it.

“That's the point. I don't know.” She says and sighs. Promptly burying her head in her hands. Eager glances are swapped for confused ones.

Various versions of ‘Why do you mean you don't know.’ leave the boys. She just looks at the note before speaking.

“ I usually have people write to who on the folded note. and you know, that system works! Sure, some people mix Fred and George but who wouldn't.” She pauses, thumbs of agreement. She fips the note. “ This one is addressed to ‘ the cute guy from Slytherin’.”

“Oh sunshine, isn't it obvious? Give me the note.” Theodor says reaching for it. Blasie stops him with a disgusted look. She knew this would happen.

“Like hell it's you, if anyone here is cute it’s me!” says Draco no longer behaving like a cat in a sun but one that is about to pull out its claws. One by one the boys got increasingly offended if they were not suggested by the others. The girl places the note in her lap and reaches for her tea. It was amusing to see her fight for the title of the cute boy in Slytherin. And some people say they are dangerous.  Tooning them out, she looks around the room to admire it. 

“Sunshine.” Says Lorenzo making her turn back to them and pay attention. 

“ Give us the note.” He says, his eyes were a tad bit crazy. She shakes her head and places the cup on a table. Sometimes her friends scared her, not for the reason many people thought. Looking closely at all of them. They all had the same look in their eyes. 

She gets up and swiftly moves to stand behind a sofa, making sure there is some barrier between her and them.

“Sunshine, give us the note,” he repeats extending his hand to her. She just takes a B-line to the door. A crashing sound behind her made her clutch to the note in her hand. A few steps before the door Mattheo appears and blocks her way. She knew better than to start backing up so she turned and made her way to the glass door that seemed to be leading outside. She however could never outrun 5 boys in their prime, no.

A decision was made right then and there. When she can feel Draco catching up to her, she ducks—Draco completely misses her and runs into the glass door. She however was already running to the fireplace. She was a few steps from it when Lorenzo jumped out of nowhere and tackled her on the floor. Making sure to turn them around so he sounded her fall. The note slips from her grip. The two groan on impact.

“Bro that was unnecessary.” She whines and rolls at her friend. Sitting her to him while he lies on the floor with a smile.

“Yeah, but I got the note…” He says and looks in the direction the note has fallen. His smile drops when he sees it. The note has landed in the fire just as the girl intended to. The sides curled and ashy, there was no saving it. A victorious cheer leaves the girl, while others groan in frustration.

Looking around the scene, some pillows were thrown on the ground. One chair was flipped over and was lying on its side. Draco was holding his nose as Blasie helped him up. Something told the girl his father won't be hearing about this one. Overall it looked like someone casted Bombarda in the middle of the room.

Turning to the friend next to her, making sure he's okay. He just waves his arm at her and jumps up. Before helping her up. In the meanwhile, the rest have sat down in their previous spots. Mattheo flicked his wand to clean the room up a bit. 

Silence sat among the friends. A new batch of tea was made, and they all tried to figure out what just happened. The only sound in the room was the fire cracking, the remains of the note still visible. It's Blaise who breaks the silence.

“Um, that was…” He swallows the rest of his thought, opting to just nod his head.

“Man, we should have read it together, just aloud.” Says Theodor, pulling out his cigarette and offering it to anyone willing to take one. Nods and hums of agreement were heard from the boys.

“You know, the girl that gave it to me was very cryptic.” She says sipping on her tea and swapping the smoke away occasionally. Their ears perked up but they were still licking their wounds to pay proper attention.

“ She said, and I quote. ‘ You know who’ and winked before running away.” She pauses to take a sip before continuing. “ I think she wanted me to give it to the one I thought was the cutest” Lost in her thoughts, her gaze remained on ashes. She did not even notice that the chatter stopped.

Silence from the boys. Until.

“Well, who do think it's the cutest?” She just sighs at the question. Here we go again.

notes to deliver: 364

Tag list: @daisiesformylove, @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone , @enfppixie , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8

[wildrangers]

Book Lovers // Quinn Hughes

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Quinn x fem OC author

Content: prolonged meet cute, flirty banter, fluff. Truly, I saw the clip of Quinn sharing he's a reader and knew I had to write something based on that.

Quinn took a deep, contented breath as he perused the shelves before him. He had a rare day off and was doing one of his favorite fall activities: book shopping.

Normally, he just went to Chapters or Barnes, depending on what country he was in, but he’d decided to explore a new place. He’d been discussing books with Lauren, the new social media manager, and she’d ranted about how they and Amazon were “destroying local markets and harming author profits.” Most of her argument had gone over his head but he took away enough, so here he was at Thomas’ Tomes–the closest locally-owned book shop to his apartment. He figured that was as good a place to start as any and it certainly didn’t hurt that it was a block from his favorite coffee place. 

Which is how he found himself, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, soaking in the relaxing energy of the cozy shop. He’d already selected a few historical fiction novels and was scanning the mystery section he’d just entered. He pulled his phone out, scanning his notes app for the title Lauren had recommended. She’d said it was pretty gruesome but he figured he could handle it…probably.

“Can I help you?” a voice nearby asked, startling him. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you sure a mystery book is a good idea?” 

His gaze rose to meet warm, golden brown eyes filled with amusement. “What do you mean?”

“It’s broad daylight in a public setting and you almost dropped your PSL because I greeted you.”

“You didn’t scare me, I was just in my own world” he argued, but felt his cheeks pinkening. She really had set off a fight or flight response just by doing her job.

“Of course” she replied and he couldn’t tell if he was being sensitive or if there was a teasing glint in her eyes. “My offer still stands.” 

“I’m sorry what?” he asked, confused and scrambling to keep up. 

“To help you find something…preferably a book. I don’t know how much help I’d be beyond that.” 

“Oh sure, yeah, thanks” he mumbled, setting his stack of books down on the table next to him so he could more easily show her his phone screen. “Someone recommended this book to me, do you have it in stock?”

He caught a whiff of something earthy and relaxing as she leaned closer, her eyes scanning the note. “Ah, yes we actually have a display over this way. Theo’s a local author.”

He picked up his items and followed her, moving much quicker than he anticipated having to to keep up as she weaved through the store. “Have you worked here a long time?” 

“My whole life essentially” she chuckled, throwing a grin over her shoulder. Just as she turned back, they passed a window that set her red hair aflame in the midday sun. 

“Oh, yeah? No labor laws then?” he teased, he hoped, successfully.

“I mean, I basically harassed my parents to let me stock shelves or talk to customers. Now I’m slightly less enthusiastic about inventory.” 

He laughed at her light tone, drawing to a stop as she did. “Wow, is this a series or something?” he asked, taking in the full display. 

“Well, the one your girlfriend recommended is the first in a new series” she answered, pointing it out. He was about to correct her but she continued quickly, “And the sequel isn’t out until early next year, so you’ll be waiting a bit for answers. Maybe start with this one?” she suggested, pointing out a title with the fewest books available. 

“Only a couple copies left, it must be popular. Have you read it?” 

“More times than I can count” she huffed.

“You’d think if you kept rereading it’s because you enjoyed it, no?” he chuckled. 

She simply shrugged, turning fully to meet his gaze, “Well, what’s the verdict? I do feel the need to warn you, these books are much closer to horror than just a normal mystery or thriller.” 

“Why does no one think I can handle these books?” he sighed in mild annoyance, grabbing the one she’d recommended off the shelf. 

“You just don’t seem like a horror enthusiast, that’s all.” 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Do you want me to answer genuinely?” she responded, eyebrow quirked in a challenge he couldn’t help but rise to.

“Sure but if you hurt my feelings, can you at least give me a discount?” he joked and she snorted out a laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal” she smirked, offering her hand to shake on it, which he did. He wasn’t at all surprised when her handshake was firm and she maintained eye contact the entire time. “Well, you have two historical fiction books with you and that was the first section you went to when you walked in.”

“You were watching me?” he laughed, earning him an eye roll.

“It’s 11AM on a Tuesday, there’s not much else to do,” she replied, gesturing to the otherwise empty store. “Plus, it’s a fun game to play when I procrastinate on doing actual work. Anyway,” she emphasized, closing her eyes briefly to seemingly get herself back on track. “Once you found those, both of which are part of long, ongoing series, you debated going left to nonfiction or right to mystery. My guess is, you normally would go pick out some biographies, maybe some historical nonfiction or even, oh, maybe some kind of ‘how to maximize yourself’ guide. How close am I?”

He felt his cheeks warm from pink to scarlet, “I mean, close but that doesn’t mean I can’t also like mysteries…” he argued weakly. 

“True enough, who’s your favorite thriller writer?” The long silence was answer enough so she continued, “If you want, you can go pick out a nonfiction book and I’ll throw the thriller in for free.”

“You don’t have to do that, my feelings weren’t that hurt.”

She shrugged, “I can’t in good conscience let you pay for that book, you must have done something to piss off your girlfriend.”

“My coworker, actually” he corrected and her eyebrows rose. “What?”

“What did you do to the poor girl?” 

“Nothing! I even took her suggestion to shop locally.” 

“Our hero” she fake swooned and he rolled his eyes, making her laugh. “Fine, how about when you’re done you bring up your haul and I’ll throw in a surprise? I feel like you’re making it a pride thing to buy the book now.”

“Color me intrigued, we have another deal” he replied. “My name’s Quinn, by the way.” 

“Dora” she replied but a loud snort erupted from near the registers. “Fuck off, Richie” she snapped, turning away from him to seemingly go yell at whoever laughed at her.

Quinn tried to relax back into the calming routine of ambling through a bookstore but he kept hearing her voice and couldn’t focus on much else. He grabbed a biography Jack had recommended, both dreading and eager to be teased by the redhead.

“Don’t let her manipulate you into buying that garbage” the guy, presumably Richie, called as soon as Quinn was in his line of sight. 

“I’m doing no such thing! Tell him, Quinn” she replied, cheeks flaming red in annoyance, her golden eyes fierce with indignation. 

“My coworker actually recommended this author. A different book but still…” he shrugged, placing his other selections on the counter. He noticed her eyes appraising his selections and the quick, amused quirk of her mouth before she whirled to focus on Richie. 

“See I told you!”

“I’m sorry for not believing you” Richie said, seeming sincere to Quinn’s ears but Dora’s eyes narrowed. “It’s just that Theodora here often tries to swindle impressionable young men to improve her book sales.” The heavy emphasis on the girl’s full name made Quinn pause. 

“Wait a minute…” he blinked rapidly, processing this new information. “Your family owns this shop, right? Thomas’ Tomes?” 

“...yeah” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at the giggling Richie. 

“And when you gave your name as Dora, he laughed. And this book, it’s written by Theo Thomas. And he just called you Theodora, which I think means you wrote this?” he questioned, feeling proud of himself for putting the pieces together and a little embarrassed it took him so long.

“He’s solved the mystery! Maybe he can handle your book after all, dear sister” Richie teased. 

“I was going to tell him!” Theo argued, grabbing a pen and opening the book. “That was the surprise, Quinn, now you have a signed copy of the book. You’re welcome, you can thank my asshole brother for ruining the reveal. I also signed a copy of the one your coworker recommended, can you pass it along to her? On the house.” 

“Are you sure?” Quinn questioned and she nodded, shifting to ring up the rest of his purchase. 

“Theo, stop” Richie huffed, shifting her away from the till. “You need to stop procrastinating and finish that last round of edits, they’re due within the week.”

“It’s just garbage anyway, you said so yourself” Theo replied mopily, sitting down on the stool next to the register.

“Oh come on…” Richie sighed, pausing his scanning to give his sister his full attention. “I was just messing with you. I know the sequel’s giving you a hard time but you’re at the finish line now, just a few more days of work then it’s out of your hands. And you’re an incredible, if worryingly grotesque, writer so I have every faith it’ll be amazing.”

“Did you hear that, Quinn?” Theo asked, grinning widely. “He finally admitted I’m a good writer.” 

“Oh fuck off, you guilted me into it!” Richie replied, grabbing the debit card from his outstretched hand. “Quinn, right?” 

“...yeah?”

“Quinn, can you please take my sister anywhere other than this shop? The cafe, the movies, a strip club? I literally don’t care, she’s driving me nuts.” 

“Richie! I’m sorry, he’s kidding, he knows that would be a weird, rude thing to request of a total stranger.” 

“A total stranger you’ve been flirting with…” he mumbled and Theo jammed her elbow into his side.

“Here, let me walk you out…” Theo said, grabbing his bag of books and rapidly leading him away from her brother. Once the cool fresh air surrounded them, she turned quickly towards him. “I am so sorry, Richie thinks he’s funny when he’s really just weird.”

“I have two brothers, I get it” Quinn assured her, reaching to grab the bag from her hands. “It was nice to have someone sign something for me for once.” 

“Do you sign things for people often?” she questioned, confusion evident in her eyes as she scanned him, trying to place who he may be. 

“Most nights yeah” he chuckled shyly, embarrassed by his comment. “Forget about it though…”

“No, no, I’m curious now” she smiled, head tilted in appraisal. “Not an author, I’d know you already. You definitely don’t give off musician vibes…but I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything either so not an actor. Who are you really Quinn? Here I was feeling bad for putting you through the ringer for my own amusement back there and you were a celebrity the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughed anxiously, running his hands through his hair. 

“Well you’re either someone of import or completely delusional and just handing out signatures to people on the streets, so which is it?”

“I’m a hockey player.”

“...okay, and?”

“We’re in Vancouver.” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” 

“This is a huge hockey city! You don’t know the Canucks?”

“I don’t live under a rock, of course I do” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was raised in a bookstore though so sports aren’t high on my list of interests.” 

“Are they on your list at all?” 

“Take a wild guess, Quinn” she replied sarcastically. “I guess you’re a big deal then?”

“I mean, I am the captain…”

“Is that normally what gets girls interested in you?” 

“Damn, tell me how you really feel” he answered, averting his eyes and trying to play off how the quip hurt him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry” she replied, her voice gentle as she tugged softly on his coat sleeve “That’s not how I meant it. I guess I’m just surprised you felt the need to try to impress me when I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I walked over to you in the shop.” 

He was briefly stunned into silence, causing her to rapidly continue, “Oh god, I’m leaving. I hope my book doesn’t traumatize you and I’m sorry for assuming you were trying to impress me, that was weird and presumptuous of me.”

It was his turn to grab her sweater sleeve lightly, “Can I have your number?” 

“Are you sure you want it? I’m clearly an expert at putting my foot into my mouth…” 

“I’m 100% sure but only if you’re interested. There's no pressure.” 

Theo reached into the shopping bag, adding her number to her signature before returning it. “Text me when you finish chapter eight, not a minute before okay? You need to know what you’re getting into here.”

***

Theo sighed, finally closing her laptop for the night but not before catching the time: 1AM. She’d procrastinated most of the day before forcing herself to do the one chapter she’d promised herself she’d get done. She was confident in the overall story but she felt like a single thread was missing that would lead to the next book’s central plot. Should the apparent villain be more gray and get a redemption arc? Or should she double down? Or maybe…her phone vibrating across the desk stopped her obsessing.

Respectfully, your mind must be a truly terrifying place. What the FUCK was that twist?

She smirked, butterflies tentatively taking flight in her stomach at the unknown number’s text.

I’m sorry, who is this?

How many men do you secretly sell your book to, sign said book with your number, and give detailed instructions on when they can use that number?

At least three today that I can think of, so any additional information would really help.

It’s Quinn.   

Ah yes, the biography and historical fiction lover! What twist are you referring to? 

I think if I typed it out I’d get flagged by an FBI agent or something…that was gruesome

I tried to warn you…

Take my advice, try harder with your next group of guys

I’ll do my best. I suspect the more I’d try to warn you off the more you would have dug your heels in though

Nah, I don’t have a competitive bone in my body 

Of course, my bad. Will you finish the book or is it too much? You can always give it to your girlfriend

*Coworker. I wouldn’t be texting a beautiful girl I just met if I was in a relationship

How charming and reassuring of you!

Are you always like this?

Like what?

Chirping

…I’m sorry what?

You don’t know what chirping means? That’s disappointing given you're a writer, Theo… 

Please, enlighten me

Chirping is a hockey term for when you’re ribbing someone. During a game, guys will chirp or make fun of each other to get under their skin. 

Are you saying I’m getting under your skin?

I’m saying I feel like my brain has to work overtime to keep up with you

That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me

That can’t possibly be true

As she mulled over what to say next, the three blue dots popped up so she paused until his response appeareed

Can I ask you a forward question? 

Shoot 

Are you free tonight? 

Are you asking me on a date?

Not quite, I’m asking you to come to my hockey game 

And why’s that?

Because you’re clearly smart and cute and have a twisted mind that I’m curious to learn more about. But you gave me a warning, so asking you to go to my game is mine

Ah, so since you passed my test you want to see if I can pass yours?

If you want it to be a challenge, sure. I just think it’s fair for you to get a glimpse of my weird life before I actually ask you out. Just like how you showed me a glimpse of your weird brain. 

Challenge and pre-date screening accepted. Where do I go and when? 

Which is how Theo found herself weaving through the crowds at Rogers Arena. Quinn had offered to get her a second ticket so she’d have company but she figured it was fair she went it alone since he was game to read her book. How terrifying could a hockey game be in comparison to a brutal serial killer story?

Quite scary, it turned out. The crowd was electric, the arena was sold out, and the noise was deafening. She’d never admit it to Quinn but she did watch some basic hockey rule videos on YouTube so she wouldn’t be totally oblivious. By the third period, she felt settled into the rhythm of the game and was actually enjoying it a bit. Especially when a fight broke out and she could cheer for violence against a random man she didn’t know alongside thousands of people. There was something very cathartic about the experience. 

It also turned out that Quinn, in this world, is a big deal. She’d immediately noticed that a huge percentage of fans were wearing his jersey. And as the team warmed up, Quinn had traded a puck for a piece of candy causing the teenage girl to scream in hysterics afterwards. It was both bizarre and fascinating to watch given she’d met this random man the day before at her family’s store. Maybe she should have asked for a signature, it probably would sell for a pretty penny…

A roar from the crowd pulled her attention back to the ice and her heart dropped to her stomach. Fights were a lot less fun when you knew and had budding feelings for one of the guys involved, especially when who he was squared off against had almost half a foot on him. To her surprise and relief, Quinn could hold his own, using speed to his advantage. When they both fell to the ice before finally being separated, she took it to mean it was a draw but the crowd screamed like he’d single handedly won the championship game, even as he was guided off the ice by the officials. There was less than three minutes left in the game so she hoped that was why rather than that he was hurt. She worried her lip between her teeth as she pulled out her phone.

Idk if you’ll see this before the end of the game but are you okay?????

She sighed as the minutes passed, the final buzzer sounding without a reply, so she stood to leave with the tide of people. Just as she tucked her phone in her pocket, she felt it buzzing insistently with a phone call. 

“Quinn, are you okay?” she asked without greeting him. She was focused on his answer but noticed a few fans within hearing distance whip their heads towards her at his name.

“Yeah, sorry I jumped right in the shower after the major.”

“I don’t totally know what that whole sentence means but I’m relieved you’re alright.”

His warm chuckle through the phone made her toes curl. “Did I scare you off?”

“I’m offended you’d think so” she replied but if he’d been with her, he’d easily tell she was a little shaken by the experience. 

“If you say so, Dora…” he teased and she laughed loudly, accidentally drawing more attention her way. “Can I take you out for a drink then?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’m currently in a sea of your most devoted followers though so I’ll need some help finding you.” 

He stayed on the phone as he guided her through the arena to the parking deck where he’d meet her shortly, only hanging up once she confirmed she was at the right car by reading his license plate number back to him. She scrolled through her phone while waiting but she felt eyes on her. She couldn’t help but be a little uncomfortable at the thought that these strangers knew Quinn’s car or at very least understood players would be emerging into this section of the parking garage. As a lifelong Vancouver resident, she obviously knew how hockey-obsessed her city was but she never thought much about these details.

She heard male voices approaching from the opposite direction of where she’d come so she tucked her phone in her purse. Quinn emerged with a tall blonde, their two heads bent together in serious conversation. When a young boy approached, they both paused, kneeling down to greet him and sign his jersey. They repeated the motion a few times before excusing themselves from the small crowd that had formed. 

“Hey! How’d you like the game?” Quinn asked, briefly pulling her in for a hug.

“I really liked the fighting until you were involved, then it was less fun” she admitted, smiling to greet Quinn’s companion. “I’m Theo.”

“Elias, good to meet you. Enjoy the rest of your night and maybe help Theo into your car before loading up, yeah?” Elias suggested and she felt her brows furrow. Quinn quickly glanced back towards the small group of people and her eyes followed his, noting that several phones were out and seemingly recording everything.

“Thanks man, drive safe” Quinn replied, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the passenger side “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine” she replied despite her confusion and frazzledness. He must have seen it on her face though because he quickly unlocked the door and helped her in. A moment later he was in the driver’s seat, backing up and speeding through the parking deck. 

“I think this is the longest silence I’ve experienced in your presence” Quinn mused at the long, but not uncomfortable, quiet that had settled.

“I’m sorry that was just…”

“A lot? Too much? I can drop you off if you’ve changed your mind, I get it” he nervously filled in.

“Quinn, stop,” she laughed. “That’s not what I was going to say, it’s just a lot to process. I really thought you were trying to, like, gas yourself up when you said people wanted your signature daily but the girl you gave a puck to almost burst into tears afterwards” 

His cheeks flamed a deep crimson which she found wildly endearing, “Yeah, it’s a lot to process for me and it’s my life.” She took in his tired eyes and the dark circles beneath them. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I have a full bar cart and you seem like you could use some quiet” she offered. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Quinn, I extended the invitation, of course I’m sure. Just take the left at the next light.” 

She guided him through the city to her apartment, allowing silences to stretch while he seemingly decompressed from the game and its aftermath. Contrary to his initial impression, she was comfortable with quiet and enjoyed when someone’s company didn’t require constant banter and attention.

“Here, park in this spot, my neighbor’s away this week so no one will care if you're there.” 

He did as instructed and she went to open the car door, nearly knocking him with it, “Jesus, Quinn! Did you sprint over here? I can open the door myself, you know…”

“I didn’t sprint, I just moved quickly. And I know you can open the door, I just wanted to do it for you” he mumbled and she smiled at his nervousness. 

“Well, thanks and I'm sorry for almost injuring you. It seems like something that could really fuck with your job.” 

“Just a little” he chuckled, offering his hand to help her out of his truck. She took it, enjoying how warm and calloused his fingers felt against her own. He went to remove his grip but she squeezed his fingers in a silent request to keep holding on, which he did. 

“This is a great spot” he complimented as they rode the elevator up to her floor. “I guess the writing’s really working out?”

“I moved in about a year ago. I’d been doing pretty good but then my most recent book, the one your coworker recommended, kind of blew up. Which is great but also has made getting the sequel done a bit stressful” she admitted, reluctantly releasing his hand to unlock her door. 

“Why’s that? Wouldn’t the success kind of add to your confidence?”

“It did, for a little, but if this next one tanks then it just proves it was a fluke and then what?” she questioned, flicking on the lights. “Penny!” she called, squatting down to pet her beloved dog. 

Penny wiggled into her body, pushing her over and onto the floor making Theo chuckle. “Settle down, it’s only been a few hours.” 

“She’s beautiful” Quinn complimented from behind her, closing the door as he stepped inside. Penny was immediately investigating him, sniffing his hands as her tail wagged excitedly. “What a sweetie. You said her name’s Penny, right?”

“Yeah, short for Pennywise” Theo elaborated as she stood back up to slip her shoes off. 

“Of course, how silly of me to not make the connection” he chuckled. 

“I mean, I’m named after a horror novel character so I had to continue the family tradition with my own child” she explained, making her way towards the kitchen. 

“Are you really?” 

“Yeah, Theodora from Haunting of Hill House. Richie was named after Tozier in Stephen King’s It.” 

“That makes your choice of genre less surprising.” 

She laughed and shrugged, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Honestly? I don’t really drink, I just wanted to see you tonight since the game didn’t scare you off.” 

“I tried to tell you, I don’t scare easily,” she teased. “I don’t really drink either. Hot cocoa?” 

“Sounds great, thanks” he replied and she busied herself getting the ingredients together. “Seriously though, what did you think of the game?” 

“Like I said, it was fun until I worried you were hurt, then it was significantly less enjoyable” she answered, handing him a warm mug. “Want to hang in my library? Your book taste is questionable but I still think you’ll enjoy my collection.” 

“Why is my taste questionable?” he scoffed but followed her down the hall. 

“It’s just very…dude bro-y.” 

“How elegant” he teased and she rolled her eyes. 

“Maybe not elegant, but accurate, no?” 

“Whatever, Dora” he grumbled and she laughed.

“Is that going to be a thing? You call me by my least favorite nickname when I annoy you?”

“To be fair, it was you who offered that name up.” 

She sighed, sipping her drink and settling into the couch in her study. She watched as he slowly made his way around the room, every wall lined with books from floor to ceiling. “This room is incredible.” 

“Thanks” she beamed, genuinely thrilled at the compliment. “It’s kind of my pride and joy, aside from Penny, of course.” 

“I can tell,” he replied earnestly, settling beside her. “There has to be some nonfiction in here, right?” 

“Sure, if you’re into true crime, psychology, forensics, and/or mental health memoirs.” 

“I actually really enjoy psychology, it’s helped my game a lot.” 

“Really?” she asked and couldn’t hide the surprise from her tone which earned her a light glare. “I just meant that hockey seems much more physical than cerebral.”

“Oh it’s super mental actually” he argued and she nodded her encouragement for him to continue. “Okay so tonight for example. I didn’t have to drop my gloves and fight but doing so showed my team that I have their back and the other team that even though I’m smaller, they can’t push me around. Since I’m a quieter guy, I choose my actions carefully to kind of speak without speaking if that makes sense.”

“It does but you’re not small, silly. Not that it would matter even if you were but you’re not.” 

“I’m hockey small” he corrected and she didn’t know enough to argue. “Oh, another example. When a player is approaching the goal, they have to strategize what they can physically do while also anticipating the goalies expectations. Which is hard because the goalie is doing the same thing. So, it becomes really strategic in addition to the skill you need to play at this level.”

She nodded, genuinely intrigued by this new element of the game she watched tonight. He must have taken her silence for boredom because he quickly continued, “I’m sorry, I can be a bit of a hockey nerd.”

“Don’t be sorry, it honestly makes the game more interesting to me to think of it that way. Plus, I already knew you were a book nerd, what’s one more level of nerdiness?” 

He rolled his eyes and she laughed, lost in their deep blue. The air shifted between them, tension developing where there had been none. She set her mug down, eyes dipping to his lips and back up. She really wanted to know what his mouth would feel like against hers. 

“I come with a lot of baggage” he admitted quietly and she shrugged. 

“Don’t we all?” she asked, matching his quiet tone. She couldn’t help herself from raising a hand to gently trace the curve of his cheekbones. “I really like looking at you” she mumbled before she could think the comment through. 

He chuckled softly, covering her hand with his own, “I really like looking at you too, weirdo.” 

She grinned at his response, closing her eyes as his mouth finally met her own. 

A/N: Sorry for the cut to black, I'm debating if I want to continue with this OC so let me know what you think! It's my first OC in a very, very long time so sorry if the grammar is wonky in spots.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - han jisung x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)

wc: 5.6k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: best friends fuckin, gender neutral pronouns used but reader is afab, jisung being stupid, minho being slay, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.

a/n: part two of the fratboy series!! i really hope you guys enjoy this one bc bratty ji means so much to me :D

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: ji is a brat, reader is dom in this one, READER IS MEAN (JISUNG LOVES IT), face slapping, oral (reader rec), dirty talk, degradation (ji rec), pussy drunk!jisung, cum eating, slight edging (both)?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up the next morning feeling incredibly satiated, for once in your life. Minho had managed to fulfill a lot of kinks that you didn’t even know you had, realistically, and you praised yourself for being so dumb to announce that you wanted to be his sex slave last night. The dominant man had given you more than enough attention, and you knew you’d want to come back for more. 

Waking up in Minho’s bed didn't feel strange, weirdly enough. He’d headed out early, and left you a little plate consisting of a tall glass of water and a snack with a note saying that he had to leave for his shift at work, and that he was sorry. You grinned at the note. He was courteous enough to do that even after fucking your brains out the night before. You’d eaten the snack - a simple assortment of fruits - and downed the water, before heading home for the day. 

After a shower and a clean outfit a lot more casual than what you’d worn the night before, you felt fresh and ready. Well, as fresh and ready as you could be considering you’d tried to phone and text your best friend multiple times since leaving the frat house and he’d literally been ignoring you.

You blinked down at your phone, seeing another text sent by you to Jisung that had simply been left on read. You’d even tried to phone him, but he’d let it go straight to the answering machine. After the third ‘this is legendary rapper J.One, spit bars after the beep’, your patience had run thin. You were confused, obviously, because what the fuck had you done to bother him so much? He was fine with you sleeping with Minho last night, and he honestly had no right to be angry about it when him and Felix had been so fucking persistent about it. Speaking of, you wondered if the resident sunshine had any idea what you’d done to the other member of your triad. 

You quickly went onto the contacts app, clicking Felix’s name that was fortunately close to the top, given your late night group FaceTimes with Jisung. He answered almost immediately. 

“Hey, angel. What’s up?”

You blanched. You hadn’t gotten this far in your plan. “Hey, Lix. I was just wondering, um… have I done something to annoy Jisung? He’s like, completely leaving me on read when I text him and he’s refusing to answer any calls.”

Felix went silent at the end of the line. “Oh, right. Yeah.”

“... What does that mean?” 

“His room is next to Minho’s, you know, and he was in bed when you fucked Minho. He woke up not too long after you put him to bed,” his deep voice was anything but comforting. “He heard everything.”

“Oh. Okay. Why is this a problem?” You three knew everything and anything about each other, and you’d literally exposed your undying lust for his older frat brother the night before. What’s the big deal? Also, given the state Jisung was in last night, you were honestly shocked he remembered hearing anything, let alone actually waking up. You’d actually thought he’d be out for the count, sleeping all day and nursing a horrific hangover after too many of his Hanji Supremes.

“Well, you know Ji. He’s insanely horny. It turned him on and now he’s terrified to look into your eyes because he’s thinking about it.”

Oh. Oh. He was thinking about you and Minho? Was it Minho he was focused on, or you? You went silent on the line, and after a few times of Felix repeating your name to get your attention, you finally answered. 

“Right. Right, yeah. That makes sense. Thanks for clearing that up, Lix,” you replied, still quiet. You weren’t too sure how to address it. “What do I do?”

Felix’s deep chuckle resounded over your tinny phone speakers. “Apart from fucking him senseless, I don’t think anything else could help him here unfortunately.”

You raised your eyebrows. Had you thought about that before, fucking your best friend? Of course you had. You were no stranger to Jisung’s sexual preferences in bed, knowing that he liked to be a brat and be treated a little meanly by someone powerful. ‘A little’ being an understatement, actually. It was something you were no stranger to, and honestly, you knew that if you ever wanted no-strings-attached sex, it would be Jisung you’d go to. No thought needed on that one. You knew Felix was probably joking, but it was making you think on the topic. Could you do it? Could you fuck your best friend?

Yeah. Yeah, you could. It had you wondering if Minho would mind, but you quickly shook that thought out of your head. You’re not together. You can have a bit of no-strings-attached sex with your friend.

You hummed, nodding. “Okay. I can do that.”

“W-Wait, Y/N, I was-” You hung up the line, a determined set to your jaw. You were gonna go to that frat house and find out what the fuck had gotten up Jisung’s ass - if Felix was right, then he was going to have the time of his life. If he was wrong, then you had another situation to solve, which would be no problem. You had some weird feeling that Felix was right, though.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You arrived at the frat house, narrowing your eyes at the front door. Something about it seemed so offending to you. The fact that one of your two best friends was in there right now, wallowing in loathe and hatred for you just because he wanted you to be mean to him? You could do that. You knew that you could be a little mean. You also knew that you were making some vast assumptions. You swung open the door, not caring about knocking, and started to storm up the stairs to Jisung’s room.

“Damn, Y/N, back for more already-” You ignored Seungmin’s quip as you stormed up the stairs, and swung open Jisung’s bedroom door. It was messy, as usual, clothes strewn everywhere that were probably both dirty and clean. Random cans of pop were sitting on his desk and his skateboard was propped up against the wall, looking like it had seen better days. His bed wasn’t even made. You resisted the urge to chastise him on the mess and instead stared straight at his sitting figure, hunched over the desk staring at his laptop, his large over-ear headphones resting on his head. The music production major hadn’t even noticed you’d come in, head bobbing to the beat blasting through the headphones. He was in work mode. 

Fuck work mode. You stormed over, ripping the dark blue headphones off his head and throwing them onto the desk. He turned to you, round eyes immediately widening further and jaw dropping slightly. His cheeks had already begun to burn crimson. You felt a bit bad, sighing at his facial expression. You were becoming soft already. “Sungie, honey, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

“I-” Jisung stared at you. He was unable to form words, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie. “Nothing. I didn’t expect- why- you’re here?”

You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t too convinced that Felix was right anymore, with Jisung being a ball of nerves and anxiety in front of your very eyes. You immediately started rambling, unable to stop yourself. “Yes, I’m here, because my best friend was leaving my texts on seen and wasn’t picking up my calls. Which you never do, you can’t ever shut the fuck up. You can’t blame me for thinking I’ve done something wrong here, Sungie. You didn’t seem to mind last night, and I’m sorry if I made it weird by sleeping with Minho, but-”

“N-No!” Jisung stammered out. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his joggers, before throwing his head in his hands and sighing. He looked about five seconds away from kicking out his feet and screaming. “Not done anything wrong. You haven’t, I mean. I have.”

You were no stranger to Jisung when he was like this, stumbling over words and not able to get his point across. You sat cross legged on the floor in front of him, just patiently waiting, speaking with a soft voice. “Just tell me, Sungie. Is it something we can fix?”

“Yeah. No. Yeah. Okay. Maybe. Like, so… you’re gonna think I’m a freak.”

“I always think you’re a freak, Jisung.”

Jisung scoffed, flicking your forehead. He spun on the computer chair to face you. “Shut up. Do you want to know or not?” You nodded eagerly, resting your hands on his knees. He looked at your hands as if they’d offended him, as if they’d framed him for murder or something. “I- I- Okay. Okay! Haha. Yeah. Okay, so basically, I heard you and Minho last night. Room’s next door, y’know?”

You pursed your lips. “Makes sense. Thin walls.”

“Thin walls,” Jisung agreed, nodding. He looked dazed, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in hesitation. “It’s just- you know. Minho was mean.”

“Y-Yeah.” You tried to avoid thinking of last night with Minho as if it hadn’t plagued your dreams afterwards anyway. In reality, you were getting sick of this conversation. Surely he could give you a little more here? You weren’t a mind reader.

“Yeah. He was mean. I guess it… yeah, okay, it turned me on. I wanted to be… like that,” Jisung mumbled. He was still staring at the wall, but his eyes were narrower, as if he was really focusing on something. Probably the memory of what he’d heard. “Not like Minho. I wanted to be like you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You… wanted to be like me? With Minho? That’s okay, Jisung-”

“No!” He practically screamed, jolting up off the chair. He started to pace, running his hands through his hair even more, before shaking his head. He pointed at you with an incriminating stare. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed. But I was thinking of you as Minho, and me as you. You get me?”

You almost gasped out loud. So, Felix was right. “Y-You want me to be… mean to you, Jisung?”

Jisung stopped pacing. He was almost vibrating with nerves and excitement. “I- Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know it’s weird, because you’re my best friend, but I-”

You found yourself speaking before you’d even planned on saying anything. “Did that get you all hot last night, Sungie? Did you jerk off hearing me and Minho, and wishing it was me being nasty to you?”

Jisung blinked. For a moment, you thought you’d gone too far, and his round eyes simply stared directly into your soul. You began to speak, to apologize, to say anything to diffuse the tension, but Jisung was shifting on his spot, jumping from foot to foot. He started pulling at his joggers, lithe fingers yanking the fabric every which way and- oh.

Oh. He was hard. Painfully so.

It hit you then, how much you wanted your best friend. You’d always been attracted to him, you weren’t blind, but you’d always strictly put each other in the friendzone. Maybe some friendly fun could be okay? It was convincing when he stood in front of you, all messy chestnut hair and pouty lips that begged to be kissed, maybe even bitten. He was pitching what looked like a very uncomfortable tent in his joggers, sweater paws pulling at the cotton uncomfortably. 

You let out a breath of air, staring at his bulge. If you squinted just right, you could probably see the definition of it. “… J-Ji, do you want to…?”

“God, Y/N, please.” With those words, you shot up from your seated position and pushed him up against the wall, his back hitting it with an almost silent thud. He gripped your shirt immediately, clenching his fingers tight around the cotton and looking as if he was going to burst out of his own skin at the anticipation. You slammed your lips together, teeth clacking and making the kiss not at all friendly but the whine Jisung let out was worth it. You could smell his cologne, something that smelled faintly of flowers but still so Jisung. 

He breathed heavily into the kiss as you pressed your tongue into his mouth, using one hand to reach up and pull on his hair softly. He whined again at this, hips just barely moving forward from the wall in an attempt to gain friction. Desperate, you mused, and the revelation didn’t shock you at all. You pressed your body further against his, pinning him against the wall covered in miscellaneous rap posters and hearing the paper crinkle behind him. You pulled away from the kiss, just letting your head stay close to his so that your wet lips were still brushing against his pouty ones to tease him. It worked - he looked like he was about to die if you didn’t kiss him again.

Tentatively, you took your hand from his hair and moved it downwards to wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides. You could feel his heartbeat, quick and heavy against your fingertips. His cheeks were flaming, bright crimson and his chest heaving underneath the thick fabric of his hoodie.

“P-Please. Please, I- Been good, I’ve not been bad, not been a bad boy-“ You huffed at his babbling, shoving your free hand down his joggers. When meeting the lack of boxers, you laughed internally. It was just so Jisung to work on music with no underwear on. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had nothing under his hoodie either. 

You tightened your fingers in a ring around the base of his length instantly, brushing past the smattering of dark hair on his pubic bone. He was thick, heavy in your hand and absolutely pulsing with need. He instantly let out a rather high pitched moan and writhed, trying to fuck into the tight ring you’d created around his cock. “You’ve not been bad, huh? Explain to me why such a good boy was jerking off to his best friends fucking last night then, Sungie.”

Jisung writhed, hands flying up to grip your shoulders. You started to jerk him off at a languid pace, taking your time and staring into his eyes. He looked like he was trying to answer, brain running a hundred miles per second but no words came out of his mouth, only incoherent babbles. You raised your eyebrows mockingly. “Good boys fucking answer when they’re asked a question.”

Jisung simply blinked at you, unabashed moans still tumbling out from his dropped jaw. His eyes were darting between your hand, still moving at a slow pace, and your eyes, soft but menacing. You tore your hand away, his fingers immediately digging into your shoulders in protest.

“N-No! No, didn’t- I didn’t mean to, was just- hnng.” He was struggling to get his words out, toes curling in his socks against the carpeted floor and his eyes watering with tears. “Please. ‘M so hard, Y/N, please. Fuckin’- make me cum, Jesus-”

“I know you’re fucking hard, obviously I can see that. It’s pathetic,” you scoffed. “Get on the bed. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

The doe-eyed boy nodded frantically, throwing himself onto the bed. He sat down, gripping at the hem of his sweatpants. 

“Off. Take ‘em off,” he mumbled, staring up at you with a glint in his eye. Oh, he was doing this shit deliberately, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he just take them off himself? “Please?”

“Fucking brat,” you muttered. You were in disbelief, in all honesty. Your best friend was a slut. It almost made you imagine what Felix was like in bed, if he’d be good for you or if he’d be an absolute brat like Jisung, or maybe he’d want you to be good for him like Minho did. You leaned forward, gripping his cheeks between your thumb and your index finger. His cheeks squished together comically, but he was still looking at you expectantly. You almost folded when you realized. “You want me to slap you?”

“Fucking- yes,” He groaned, trying to nod frantically, your fingers preventing him from doing so. You pulled your hand back, reaching back and delivering a slap to his round cheek. He immediately reeled with the sensation, bucking his hips up into thin air. “O-Oh. Yeah. Harder, harder, hit me harder-“

“You are so fucked up,” you said, in full shock. Your eyes were wide but you tried to hide it, shaking your head and sighing. You gave him another firm slap to his cheek, the same one, making him whine. “You are so fucked up, Jisung. You like being slapped in the face?”

He looked up at you, a stupid grin on his face. His cheek was smarting red from the abuse. “You’re even more fucked up. You like slapping me-“

You pushed him down by his shoulders, yanking his joggers off with one hand and keeping your other hand on his upper body to keep him still. He immediately yanked at the fabric of his hoodie, and you sighed, releasing your grip on him for him to pull that off too.

Immediately, planes of milky skin were exposed to you, the hinting of abs underneath his skin from gym nights with Changbin making you feel like you could drool. His cock laid hard against his tummy, hard and leaking amidst the hair adorning his pubic region. He was so fucking shameless. He was getting off from you hurting him, and being mean to him, and he didn’t give a fuck about it. 

Jisung smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth. He leaned up on his forearms. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jisung shook his head at your words, still smiling. You rolled your eyes, pulling your t-shirt and sports bra off with ease and revealing your chest. His eyes immediately went down to the exposed skin, his smile dropping. It was your turn to smile. “Maybe if you’d have been good, I’d let you have them in your mouth. But no. You’re just fucking filthy, Jisung.”

Jisung looked up at you, chest heaving and flushed with a deep blush similar to the shocking color on his cheek. He’d started to shift around impatiently against his messy bedding. “Filthy. ‘M- Yeah. Yeah. I am. Sit on my cock now,” You narrowed your eyes at him writhing on the sheets. “Please?”

You scoffed. You wiggled your own joggers off, leaving your underwear covering your core. “You think it’s that easy? Not everyone gets as turned on as you so fucking fast. No, I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna at least try to put those lips to good use. It’s the only thing that’ll make you shut the fuck up.”

Jisung let out a squeal as you crawled up onto the bed, shuffling on your knees until your clothed core was right above his lips. He immediately latched his lips onto your clit, soaking the fabric with his spit while he sucked hard. His hands went up to your ass, gripping tightly - you allowed him to have that small success.

He was a lot more precise than you’d expected, licking over and over again at the fabric until it was sodden and practically falling off of your core. Maybe it was due to his rapper tongue. You’d been trying not to let out noises all the way through, simply letting out some pleased sighs and gasps when his tongue flicked a certain way. The fabric was restricting though, not allowing you to feel his tongue properly. 

“There you go, that’s good enough. You can move it to the side now baby,” Jisung nodded between your legs, slender fingers coming to hook into the hem of your underwear and revealing your core. You were briefly shocked he’d even listened to you. It had, admittedly, become wet all from you making out and touching his cock a little earlier, but you’d never admit it if you were to keep up this persona that he so desperately craved. He whined at tasting you properly, wide licks cleaning up the mess between your folds and making your thighs twitch at the sensation. 

He was moaning into your core, shifting his hips up as if he was chasing your hole when it wasn’t even above his cock. You heard him mumbling something in between licks and you lifted off, allowing him to speak.

“Just- Just, please, sit on my cock. Please. Look’it,” Jisung’s lips were covered in a clear sheen from your pussy, his eyes wet with tears. He looked thoroughly broken. He hadn’t even made you cum yet, you mused, but in a moment of relent you lifted yourself off of his face and turned to look at his cock. It did look pathetic, actually, laying against his tummy in a pool of dribbling precum and steadily still leaking more. His hands went to grip the sheets, trying to avoid pumping his cock. You felt for him, just a bit, because you didn’t think you had ever seen a cock that wet in your life. 

“Oh, baby, look at that,” you falsely cooed, dragging your fingers down to pick up some of the precum on his soft skin. He whined, nodding at your words. You pressed a finger into your mouth, watching Jisung stare at you intently while you hummed at the taste. It didn’t taste of much, just with a bit of a salty aftertaste. “That’s pathetic. Look at all that going to waste, huh?”

“‘S not- Can’t help it,” Jisung mumbled. You’d officially broken him, you thought. Gone was his bratty behavior and it was replaced with watering, big brown eyes and a quivering pouty bottom lip. “Need your pussy. It’s so wet, I know you need it too, I-“

You pressed your finger into the pool of precum again, coating your index and middle finger and pressing it into Jisung’s mouth to effectively shut him up. He moaned around your fingers, tongue swirling around the pads as if he was sucking a cock. You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Now that’s fucking filthy. Do you like tasting your own cum? That’s pathetic, Sungie,” Jisung moaned at your words, vibrating around your fingers in his mouth. He started to try to babble around your digits, making you pull your hand away from his face.

He licked his lips, panting. “Not cum. Haven’t cummed. It’s just wet ‘cause I need you to sit on it, ‘kay?” You sighed, acting disappointed.

“Hmm, I guess I could have some mercy. You gotta make me cum though, Sungie, or you’re not cumming. Does that sound okay to you?” You shimmied off your underwear, dumping it on the floor next to his clothes.

“Yeah! Yeah! I can make you cum, yep! You just gotta- it’s- sit on it, I mean, will fill you up-“ You moved again, straddling his hips and resting your hands on the hints of his abs, soft skin beneath your palms. You lowered your now naked core over his length, solid and hot in between your folds. You started grinding along his dick, and Jisung looked fit to burst. “Are you- please! I can’t take it anymore, ugh!”

You shook your head. “Fucking brat. Beg.”

“Yeah, please, fuck please! Please, please need your pussy on my cock, please. I know I don’t deserve it, I know I’ve been bad,” Jisung spoke all in one breath, leaning up on his forearms to look at you. Your teasing had now caused fat tears to actually fall from his eyes, making you feel a bit bad. Maybe you had wound him up enough. “Shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have cum to you and Minho, I know, but you- could hear you moaning and I-“

You cut him off, raising a little to grip his length and sinking down onto it in one go. You shut your eyes, clenching them tightly while you adjusted to the size that was now pulsing against your walls. He was thick. The angle made sure that he was stretching out your hole perfectly, not too much to be uncomfortable. It made you let out a pleased sigh. You hadn’t had this privilege with Minho, just sitting there and letting yourself adjust, but then you’d loved it-

Before you could begin moving, Jisung flipped you over, beginning to thrust into you frantically. You jolted at the movement, letting out a loud moan. “Jesus- Jisung!”

“S-Sorry, sorry, no- I need to, fucking hell- gotta cum,” he was fucking into you at a quick pace, babbling about how good you felt around him. He’d grabbed your hips, pulling you up to meet his thrusts while he just used you as his fucktoy, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Y-You filthy fucking boy, look at you. Give you a bit of pussy and you get all fucking delirious, it’s p-pathetic,” You managed to get out. Jisung let out a loud moan at that, hips faltering. “Can’t even fuck me right, can you?” 

“Yeah! I can, I can, I’ve had loads of pussy,” Jisung mumbled, shifting his hips a little bit to try and get a better angle. He was working hard to please you, and in all honesty it did feel really good, but he was clearly getting off on being told otherwise. With an extra shift of the angle inside of you, he was pounding into your g-spot, making you falter and groan out loudly. “There. There! Told you, can make- oh fuck- can make it feel good- hnnnnng!”

You could feel the slick slide of his cock into your pussy, thrusting in and out and him moaning louder as he felt it get wetter with your arousal. It was dirty, extremely messy especially as you both worked together, thrusting against each other desperately for release. You gripped his biceps, fingers digging into the muscles as moans started to fall out of your mouth unabashedly.

“Oh God, baby, my baby, gonna cum-“

“Sungie, Sungie, wait, let me…” you reached down with two fingers and started to rub against your clit, thighs twitching with pleasure. You rubbed fast and quick, merciless as you tried to reach your orgasm with your best friend. His thrusts were staccato, uneven, but you rubbing your clit made up for any lost pleasure in the change of tempo. 

You quickly felt your high fast approaching, biting up your spine with the energy of a supernova. Domming Jisung like this had turned you on beyond belief, and finally having him put some effort into fucking you - well, you knew it wouldn’t take long. Your fingers were slipping as they rubbed across your bundle of nerves, but you pressed harder into the button and let the ecstasy overtake you.

Your toes curled as you finally let go. You bit into your lip to try not to moan out too loud, but small moans and whimpers still left your mouth at the intense feeling. Jisung had surprisingly hung on to the edge, watching you intently as you came and slowing his hips to a slow grind so that he didn’t cum inside you. You let your hand fall to the side as your orgasm finally subsided, chest heaving and bottom lip bitten raw. 

Jisung pulled out, pumping his cock erratically. His breath was heavy, whines falling out as he used your cum as lubricant to let himself orgasm. “Baby, where do I..?” 

You smiled. “Can do it on my tits if you want, Sungie.”

He moaned loudly at this, shuffling up to press his cockhead between your tits. It slid around messily with yours and his combined juices, but he quickly started grinding it down against your skin. It only took one, two, three thrusts before ropes of hot cum were flooding from his tip and even landing on your chin, making you stifle a giggle. He was loud, whining and sobbing through his orgasm as if you’d just given him the best thing he’s ever received in his life. You probably had.

He rubbed his thumb over his cockhead, finishing his orgasm before slumping to your side. 

“Fuckin’ wow. That was so good, oh my God. You’re totally such a good Dom, like what the fuck!”

You huffed. He really does never shut the fuck up, does he? “Ji, maybe stop talking and get me a towel?”

“Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Totally. I gotchu,” He shot you finger guns before hopping up off the bed, totally not bothered by being fully naked in front of you. He grabbed a small face towel from his drawer - it was surprisingly clean - and came over to you, wiping you delicately. You felt touched that he’d actually wiped you clean. It was Jisung, after all. It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d licked it up. He stood up afterwards, wiping his now soft cock with a clean part of the towel.

You groaned as you heard your phone chime with a new text, leaning over to grab it from the pocket of your trousers on the floor. Your heart almost stopped beating.

It was Minho. Apparently, his shift had ended, and he’d texted you with a quick ‘come to my room when you’re done’. You gasped. Jisung quickly ushered around the bed with the de facto cum towel to read your phone over your shoulder.

“Oh shit. You totally got in trouble for fucking your best friend.”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Jisung!” You looked back to the text message, and typed a quick ‘sure’. You blushed, anxiety mounting in your stomach. “I hope he’s not mad.”

“Doubt he will be,” Jisung chirped, pulling a clean pair of boxers on. “Your high sex drive and thing for frat boys hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of us, Y/N. He knew what he was getting into by ruining that pussy-“

“Jisung, I hate you. Why did I fuck you again?”

“Because you wanted to see me cry.”

You huffed, pushing past him to put your clothes back on. Your hair was mussed up, and you knew you smelled of sex. Trying to push that thought aside, you quickly shoved your socks back on before going to make out the door. 

“Hey!” You turned around to face Jisung. He didn’t even look sheepish, standing there with his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. “Got anything to say to me?”

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a quick “love you, Ji” before leaving his room. You heard him sing-song an affirmation back to you, but you were already making your way into Minho’s room, not bothering to lock the door.

He was laying on his back, dressed more comfortably after work and with his laptop propped in his lap. You tried not to die just looking at him. Minho turned to you upon entry, raising an eyebrow. “Have fun?”

You hopped from foot to foot. “Y-You’re not…?”

“Mad? Why would I be?” Minho shoved his laptop off of his lap. He sat up, stretching nonchalantly before looking at you again. “You thought I’d be mad because you fucked Jisung? Very loudly, may I add?”

“W-Well, it was… this morning, it was-“

“Intimate? I’m aware,” He stood up, stalking towards you. “I think we should get one thing straight. I don’t care who you fuck. Hell, tick all my brothers off your list if it’s what makes you happy, but you better fucking remember that pussy belongs to me.”

“I-“

“Say it.”

“My p-pussy belongs to you, Minho,” You sigh, cheeks blazing, looking at him standing in front of you. He cocked his head to the side.

“Great, because I’m very aware that no one can ever make that pussy feel the way that I made it feel,” He returned to his sitting position on the bed, leaning back. “Fuck my frat brothers. I couldn’t care less. It’s me you’re coming home to at the end of the night - you did say you wanted to be my sex slave after all, right?” 

You nodded. “So, you really don’t mind?”

Minho shook his head, a cocky smile on his lips. “Like I said, babe. Tick them all off your list if you want to, but you better be sitting on my cock afterwards telling me all about it.”

Your jaw was officially dropped lower than it ever had been. Why did Minho have to be so fucking hot? You couldn’t cope. You couldn’t fucking breathe. You needed him biblically. Practically rushing towards him, you straddled his thighs easily and attached your lips to his in a desperate kiss. His hands went to your ass as if he’d been expecting it, because he probably had.

Tick them all of your list, though?

Now that sounded like fun.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

Prince Katsuki Bakugo x Female Reader

Please support me by leaving a like or comment to let me know what you liked most about the chapter and what you expect to come in the next one!

You are now reading Part 2 of Promise! Enjoy my lovelies <3 Lemme know what your feelings were on this chapter!

Part 1 here Part 3 here

When you were six, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse" again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country...where your wedding to the heir to the throne fifteen years ago is seen as valid.

Turns out, he's lying to you? Wait...WHAT?

If someone had told you two days ago that you would be sitting in a limousine, about to go meet a random Prince who is your supposed 'spouse' that you haven't met in fifteen years, you'd have packed your bags and moved to the other side of the world.

Well, that’s where you are right now.

The luxurious interior of the limousine felt surreal, the soft leather seats and tinted windows contrasting the whirlwind of confusion and disbelief swirling inside your mind. You glanced out the window at the passing cityscape, trying to process everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours.

It had started with that knock on your door, the letter from Prince Bakugo, and your incredulous conversation with Momo. Somehow, you had gone from laughing off the absurdity of it all to sitting here, en route to a world you never imagined would be yours.

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. The playground wedding and childhood games all felt like another lifetime.

Yet, here you were, being whisked away to meet the man who, according to his letter, had been waiting for you all these years.

The limousine slowed as it approached a grand estate, the gates opening smoothly as the vehicle entered. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.

The driver, a stern-looking man in a perfectly pressed uniform, pulled up to the entrance and stepped out to open your door.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the limousine, your eyes widening at the sight before you. The castle was magnificent, with towering spires and intricate stonework that looked like something out of a fairy tale.

As you stood there, taking in the grandeur, the massive wooden doors of the castle opened. A man with red, spiky hair stepped out, his expression serious yet somehow familiar. It was the same man who had brought the letter to your door, Kirishima, was it?

"Princess," he said, bowing slightly. "Please follow me."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, and followed him inside. The castle's interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with vaulted ceilings, grand chandeliers, and tapestries depicting scenes of historical significance.

Kirishima led you through a series of hallways until you reached grand double doors. He paused and turned to you.

"The Prince is inside. He’s been looking forward to meeting you again."

Your heart raced as he opened the doors, revealing a spacious room bathed in sunlight. Standing at the far end, looking out of a large window, was Prince Bakugo. He turned as you entered, his intense gaze locking onto yours.

He was taller now, more mature, but there was no mistaking the boy you had once known. His hair was still as spiky as ever, the ash blond color ever so conspicuous, numerous scars on his hands, no doubt from all the battles he'd been through.

Sharp crimson eyes bore into your softer ones, it was like he was reading your soul just from the eye contact. Something like that made your heart skip a beat.

"It's been a long time." Oh, that was the one thing you had hoped he wouldn't say. Had he forgotten your name? Was this all a mistake?

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, it has."

He took a step towards you, his expression softening. "I know this is a lot to take in."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "I never thought... I mean, I didn’t realize any of this was real."

He smirked slightly. "It's real. Y/N, you need to know why you're here." His feet shuffled. He seemed almost... nervous?

You felt a strange sense of panic wash over you. "Okay," you said softly. "Let’s talk."

Bakugo took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to explain. "Look, Y/N, there's something you need to know. That playground wedding we had... it isn't seen as valid by my people."

Your eyes widened, confusion and anger bubbling up inside you. "Then why did you tell me it was? Why did you bring me here?"

He ran a hand through his spiky hair, clearly frustrated. "Because my parents are planning to marry me off to some girl I haven't even met. Another Princess, some fuckin' extra named Uraraka."

You ignored the language that departed from his mouth, too focused on the more unbelievable part of the situation. He lied to you.

Youfelt a rush of emotions—anger, confusion, and a strange sense of betrayal. "So, you lied to me?"

Bakugo winced at the accusation. "Yeah, I lied. Not like I had a damn choice. My parents have been breathing down my neck about this for months. They think it's time I settled down and did my duty as a prince. But I don't want to marry someone I don't even know."

"And you think dragging me into this mess is the solution?" you snapped, feeling a surge of anger. "How could you do this to me?"

"You're the only one I could think of," he admitted, his voice softer now. "We have history, Y/N. I thought that if I could convince them that we're already married, they’d back off."

You shook your head, trying to make sense of everything. "This is insane. You can't just use me as a pawn in your game. This isn't fair to me, Katsuki." you seethed, crossing your arms and looking around the room. Anywhere but his face.

"I know it's not fair," he said, his tone desperate. "But I need your help. Just for a while, please. Pretend to be my fiancée until I can figure out a way to get out of this arranged marriage."

You looked at him, torn between the anger you felt and the vulnerability you saw in his eyes. "I don't know. This is a lot to ask and it was so suddenly."

"I know it is," he replied, stepping closer to you. "But I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I need you, Y/N. Please."

You shook your head, no. "What am I getting from this?"

"Anything. Anything you want. Gold, a new house, trips to anywhere in the world. Anything." he breathed out to you, his hands cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes for a positive reaction.

You felt powerful. Having a Prince, no. The Prince of Japan at your beck-and-call was a feeling of ultimate power and you basked in it.

"Fine. But on one condition."

Your eyes widened as you stepped foot into what would be your new room. This place was humongous. The walls were lined with ornate wallpaper, and the bed, situated in the center of the room, was draped with luxurious black and red silk.

Sunlight poured in through the tall, arched windows, illuminating the room in a warm, golden glow. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting sparkling light over the room.

"Wow," you breathed, taking in the grandeur. "This is… incredible."

Bakugo stood by the doorway, watching you with a mix of relief and determination. "I told you I'd make it worth your while."

You turned to face him, trying to keep your emotions in check. "Alright, Katsuki. I'll play along. But remember our deal. You owe me, big time."

He nodded, his expression now a cocky smirk. "I didn't forget."

With that, he left you to settle into your new quarters, the door closing softly behind him. You took a moment to explore the room, your fingers trailing over the luxurious fabrics and polished surfaces. It felt surreal to be in such a place, caught up in a situation you never could have imagined.

As you unpacked your things, your mind wandered back to the events of the past few days. It had all happened so quickly—one moment, you were living your ordinary life, and the next, you were thrust into a world of royalty.

After a while, there was a knock on the door. You opened it to find a woman in a maid's uniform standing there, a warm smile on her face.

"Good afternoon, Princess!" she said with a slight bow. "The name's Mina, your personal maid. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. It's nice to meetcha!" She stuck her hand out and shook yours with vigor. It was weird seeing a maid act so friendly. She was definitely a girl's girl.

"Thank you, Mina," you replied, trying to match her happy tone. "I'm still getting used to all of this."

She nodded understandingly. "If you need help with anything, from getting settled to understanding the daily schedule, I'm here to assist you!"

"Right..." you trailed off, and she changed the subject, noticing the awkwardness.

You spent the next hour getting to know Mina and learning about the castle's routines and protocols. Despite the overwhelming circumstances, her funny demeanor and helpfulness put you at ease.

That evening, as you prepared for dinner, you found yourself standing in front of a full-body mirror with your phone's flash turned on, trying to get a good picture for your Instagram page.

Mina barged into the room, causing you to yelp and drop your phone in the process. "Whoopsy daisy," she chuckled.

"We need something perfect for tonight's banquet," she said, her eyes alight with excitement. "It has to be just right, especially with all the nobles and dignitaries attending. Especially if we're considering the fact that the other Princes of Japan are gonna be there!" she squealed.

Mina's eyes lit up as she pulled a gown from the rack. "This one," she mumbled, holding it up. The dress was a stunning shade of crimson, a shade that matched Katsuki's eyes, you thought.

"Other Princes of Japan?" you asked as she prepared a bath for you, adding a few drops of a coconut-scented mix, something that would be perfect for catching everyone's nose.

"Yeah. Princes Midoriya and Todoroki?" she asked, and you stared at her with puzzlement. "Really? Have you been living under a rock?!"

You chuckled. "I guess."

"Alrighty, I'll fill you in as we get you ready." She nodded and helped you into the bathtub.

After some time, Mina stepped back, taking a good look at you. Your hair bounced as you turned to look at her with a shy smile. "Pretty as a princess!" she cooed at you, like a mother to her child on their first day of school.

"Okay! This way!"

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the dining hall. The grand room was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware. "Good luck, girly," she hummed behind you, and you immediately felt her step back, allowing you to enter.

Two ginormous thrones stood firm and tall at the head of the room. On the bigger one sat a male, Katsuki's father, you presumed. His soft gaze immediately locked onto you as you entered. His hair was a homely brown, something that reminded you a lot of your mother's brownies.

Next to him sat a woman. She looked extremely young; for a second, you almost mistook her for Katsuki's sister. Her eyes looked worn, now a shade of bromine. It made you wonder if Katsuki's eyes would take on the same shade when he grew older. Her hair was spiky and untamed, just like her son's. Upon meeting eye contact with her, she immediately beamed brightly at you.

"Your Highnesses," you bowed, almost perfectly for someone new to royal life. He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, and you stood up straight, head held high as you met his gaze.

"Ah, you must be the girl we've heard so much about," the man smiled, crow's feet at his tired eyes. "King Masaru. This lovely lady is my wife, Queen Mitsuki." He looked at her lovingly, and she laced their hands together. How cute.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at the sudden attention. "It's an honor meeting you both, Your Highnesses. I never knew that he spoke about me."

"Damn right I do," a new voice pitched in from the background, and you spun on your heel, noticing the familiar ash-blond hair pop into the room.

"Katsuki Bakugo, you brat! How dare you barge into the throne room without knocking!" his mother stood up and walked up to the two of you, smacking Katsuki upside the head.

You looked at the two in shock. Did she really just...?

"YOU DAMN HAG!" Katsuki screeched. "I'M A PRINCE AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT." He stomped his foot like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

"OH, YOU THINK THAT YOU'VE GROWN OUT OF YOUR SHOES, YOUNG MAN?" She grabbed onto one of his ears and pulled it hard until he whined and mumbled out an apology. You looked back to the King and watched as he chuckled with an amused look on his face. It must be a normal occurrence around here.

"Damn hag," Katsuki grumbled, coming to stand at your side and wrapping a hand around your waist. "Ya look nice," he mumbled into your ear, and the Queen looked at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

The King and Queen exchanged a glance but were cut off by a knight entering the room. "Your Majesties." He bowed. Wait, you'd recognize that voice. Kirishima?

"Dinner is ready, and your guests have been seated." And sure enough, there stood the redhead, bowing lowly before leaving the room.

"Thank you, Eijiro. We'll be there." The king nodded and stood up, his wife immediately at his side, locking her left arm onto his extended one. "Come on, you lovebirds. The most important people are here to approve you, Y/N." She smiled warmly at you.

As you walked towards the grand dining room, the soft clinking of heels echoed in the marble hallway.

The opulent decor and lavish surroundings only added to the surreal feeling of the evening. Katsuki's hand was still securely around your waist, a gesture that both reassured and anchored you in this unfamiliar world.

The grand double doors of the dining hall loomed ahead, flanked by two imposing guards in ornate uniforms. They stood at attention, their faces stern and expressionless. As you approached, one of the guards stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"Announcing Their Majesties, King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki, along with His Royal Highness, Prince Katsuki," he intoned, his voice carrying through the hall.

Great. Just great.

Your heart sank a little as the guard finished his announcement, omitting your name entirely. How embarrassing.

The nobles and dignitaries who had turned to acknowledge the royal family now looked at you with mild confusion. You could feel their judgmental eyes boring into you.

Katsuki's grip on your waist tightened slightly. You glanced up at him and saw a flash of irritation in his eyes. Without missing a beat, he leaned down and whispered something to the guard. You couldn't make out the words, but the effect was immediate.

The guard's face paled, his posture stiffening as he realized his mistake. "My apologies," he stammered.

"Announcing Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N."

The correction hung in the air, and for a moment, the room was silent.

Then, as if on cue, the nobles and dignitaries bowed deeply, their earlier confusion replaced with acknowledgment.

Katsuki's intense gaze remained on the guard for a moment longer before he turned back to you, his expression softening.

"Let's go," he murmured, guiding you further into the room.

You felt a rush of gratitude and relief, appreciating Katsuki's insistence on your proper recognition. Looking up at him, you gave him a small smile. "Thank you," you whispered.

Katsuki's parents, seated at the head of the table, exchanged a glance that spoke of approval and satisfaction.

He pulled out a chair for you next to his, and you took your place, feeling the eyes of the other guests upon you.

The grand dining table was a sight to behold, laden with exquisite dishes and adorned with elegant floral arrangements. The room buzzed with small conversations, and as you settled into your seat next to Katsuki, you felt a bit of the earlier anxiety melt away.

Suddenly, a woman stood up, her warm brown eyes glaring down at you, making you feel uncomfortable. She used her fork and cup to avert the attention of everyone at the table to her.

"I was wondering if you were still interested in marrying Prince Bakugo to my daughter, Princess Uraraka."

Wait... What?

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