#she died in the middle of high school | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pearlessance · 1 month ago

Text

Beneath the Armor —part one

summary: Joel Miller has been the center of all the gossip in the trailer park since he tragically lost his daughter. He's short-tempered and mean as hell, his hostility no doubt spurred on by that beer he always has in hand. But when you need a ride to work and he's your last resort, you come to find he's much more than what meets the eye.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI (not in this part but in part two!), ANGST with a happy ending, grief, mention of child loss, daddy issues, age difference, slow burn, attempted seduction, use of alcohol, and references to alcohol abuse, brat taming, eventual smut

wc: 6.9k

note: this entire concept is owed to my bff joelmillersgirlfriend over on AO3! we've cowritten this together (to the shock of no one, i'm pretty sure i need her to write at this point), and if you haven't gone over there to read her stuff by now then you're missing out!! part two coming soon <3 let us know what you think!

[part two]

[masterlist] [read on AO3!]

Talking to Joel Miller was like pulling teeth with a rusty old plier, one by one, nerve by nerve. He used his silence, his pity like a suit of armor. Meant to protect him, but still wrapped around a man who was too scared to confront his fears. To learn his own forgiveness.

You had vaguely known him since you were a senior in high school and had seen him and his little girl move into the trailer across from yours. You were sitting on the front porch, occasionally sipping from the iced lemonade in your hand. Summer had come in hot, and the beaming sun was relentless during the first humid weeks of July.

Joel and Sarah had been the talk of the neighborhood — the dad and the little girl with an oxygen tank. You heard the rumors from some of your friends in the trailer park - that Joel couldn’t afford to keep up with her medical bills, so he had to sell his house and abandon the business he had built up with his bare hands.

Still, she was a fighter until her last breath. Joel, however, died the day Sarah did. She had only lived for eleven months after moving into the park. What was once a motivated little family fighting hard against the disease soon became a single man inside of an empty shell.

His warm smiles that he would give to neighbors who brought Sarah over toys and “get well soon!” cards soon turned into nothingness — a dark, empty expression. Joel stopped going out as much, replacing soccer balls and dirty sneakers with whiskey and cigarettes. He no longer stood out on his porch, playing guitar and smiling at you once he met your eyes from your own porch.

Kathy, who lived directly next to you, begged her husband, Parker, to call the cops for a wellness check for Joel. On the first anniversary of her death, he didn’t leave the house for a week.

“Mind your own business. God only knows how he’s havin’ to cope; seeing cops knocking on his front door in the middle of the night won’t help nothing.”

You had to admit you were more than a little relieved when you saw him finally emerge, tired-looking with heavy eyes. He got in his car and left before coming back thirty minutes later, a new case of beer in tow.

You spent too much time observing him, ensuring he was alright, even if he didn’t know that. With no dad that you could remember and a mother who remarried some douchebag and skipped town after you were old enough to live on your own, all you had was time. After senior graduation, your friends in the park found a way to escape to college, but you were stuck and unable to escape, just like Joel.

While your friends went to get a degree, you found a job at a bar up the road. It was grimy and far beyond your dream, but you earned good tips. With responsibilities that caused you to stay and a deep fear of failure, you could not leave the town you’d grown up in.

Out of desperation, you’d leaped and applied to some college several towns away. It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse, an unrealistic kind of thing. It’s not like you’d be able to afford it anyway.

So it was a cycle: wake up, work, sleep, and do it all over again. You understood how Joel must feel, trapped in a never-ending pattern, reliving memories that couldn’t ever really go away — not entirely.

And of course, you understood what it was like being handed the short end of the stick. You both wound up in the same place, after all.

Which was what led you to walk towards Joel’s trailer one evening. Your shift at work was about to start, but your car wouldn’t crank. You'd tried going to Kathy’s house first, but nobody answered. You couldn’t lose your job, already having too many tardies because of your piece of shit car.

The soles of your shoes crunched against the leaves on Joel’s front porch step, your eyes moving to look at him sitting in a plastic lawn chair. His hair was getting long, hanging over his eyes wildly.

Joel bristled when he noticed you standing on his front porch step, a cigarette hanging between his lips. You’d never been this close to him. It was much easier to see how handsome he was up close: thick hair, a graying beard. Simply too easy on the eyes.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his eyes slipping away from your face and down to your outfit. You always dressed up for work, knowing it’d get you extra tips. Maybe you went a little overboard with the fishnets and the amount of cleavage you were showing, but it always paid off in the end.

His hips shift in his seat, waiting for you to answer his question.

You cleared your throat, standing up straight to make yourself feel more significant compared to the giant man. “I’m sorry to bother you. My car won’t start, and I’m gonna be late for work.”

Joel glared up at you. “So?”

Taken aback by his hostility, you paused, hesitating. You knew that he was a sad man, but nobody had told you that he was an asshole.

“So… I was hoping you could give me a ride. I could pay you for the gas and-“

Joel stood up in the middle of you talking, the wood creaking under his boots as he walked to the front door and into the house. You faltered, standing stupidly on this rude man’s front porch step.

With a huff, you spun around, leaving the porch. “Fuckin’ asshole,” you muttered under your breath, suddenly jumping at the sound of the screen door slamming shut behind you. Joel had returned, this time with keys in his hand and a brown t-shirt pulled over his white wife's beater.

“Say somethin’?” Joel asked, walking ahead but narrowing his eyes directly at your face.

“Nope,” you quickly chirped, rushing to catch up with him. “I thought you’d left me standing outside.”

“‘Bout did,” Joel grumbled under his breath, unlocking the truck door before climbing in. It was your turn to narrow your eyes at Joel, rolling them at the asshole. Even though he was an unexpected dickhead, you had to admit that you enjoyed the way his arms flexed as he pulled himself into his truck.

The drive to the bar was filled with mostly silence, except for the hum of some Radiohead album playing on the radio. Joel had the truck windows rolled down, the wind whipping the loose strands of your hair around your face.

You tried to subtly glance over at him, watching the same cigarette from earlier placed between his plush lips. Without thinking, you reached over, plucking the cigarette away from his mouth.

His dark eyes snapped at you in disbelief as he watched you inhale his cigarette, the residue from your lipstick staining the filter. You weren’t sure why you needed to catch Joel’s attention, but you were sure it somehow related to how he was ignoring you. It made you crave his attention. Fucking daddy issues.

“Now you owe me gas money and a pack of Marlboro’s,” Joel said, reaching over to swipe the cigarette out of your mouth. He eyed the lipstick stain, sighing in annoyance before deciding the nicotine was worth it.

Your blood warmed at the thought that Joel’s lips touched where yours had just been, indirectly tasting your mouth. His eyes flickered over to you, watching him, a low frown on his face.

“What’s a girl like you workin’ at Dazzlers anyways?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at his remark. “I’m a bartender, not a lap dancer,” you said, prompting Joel to give you an eye roll in return.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered, almost so quietly that you didn’t notice, but you did. You understood that he had been through a lot, but Christ, there was no need to take it out on you. You swallowed your pride, knowing he was your last resort to not being fired.

Despite the weird tension and the silence, you found yourself drawn to Joel’s brooding energy, glancing at him occasionally through the darkness.

Apparently, he was more observant than you thought.

“Need somethin’?” he questioned, not even glancing in your direction. Maybe it had to do with dad spidey senses or something, but being caught had made your blood warm in your veins.

You shook your head, unable to bite your tongue.

“Nobody told me that you were such a dickhead.”

To your surprise, Joel didn’t even falter, with almost no response to your jab at his aggressive demeanor.

“Yeah, well, watchin’ your daughter deteriorate right in front of you can change a man,” he replied bluntly, taking a long drag of his cigarette without even looking away from the road.

It made you instantly feel bad, regretting your words no matter how much truth they held.

“That’s not what I meant-“ you tried to explain, but Joel waved his hand, dismissing your excuse. His large palm made a rush of air past your face, your eyes blinking at him in response.

“Just leave it,” Joel grumbled, so you obeyed. It wasn’t for long before you arrived at your job, your eyes watching the bright neon lights flashing through the parking lot. You rifled through your purse, attempting to retrieve a couple of bills, but Joel’s palm wrapping around your own stopped you.

Bright-eyed, you looked up to meet his gaze, his usual timid expression replaced with one of determination.

“You don’t gotta pay me.”

Strong words coming from someone who was just belittling you for owing him money for gas and cigarettes.

“I don’t wanna owe you anything. Just let me give you a couple of dollars and we’ll call it even,” you said, attempting to rifle back through your bag, but being stopped by his massive palm once again.

“Who’s gonna bring you back home tonight?” Joel questioned, his concern genuinely surprising you. Before you shrugged, you allowed your defenses to fall, mostly due to your shock.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.”

Joel shook his head, rolling his eyes at your half-assed answer. “What time does your shift end?”

You paused, pulling your purse to your chest before glancing at the front of the building. Did you really want Joel to pick you up? Was sitting through another weirdly comforting yet intense ride worth it?

When you looked back at Joel, he didn’t seem willing to take no for an answer; his eyebrows were drawn into an almost scowl-like expression. Sighing with exasperation, you finally spoke.

“We close at midnight.”

He nodded in response, breaking his intense eye contact with you before opting out to seemingly judge the building itself. It was a rough place, with neon lights flashing and motorcycles lined up at the entrance. It certainly looked more intimidating than it actually was.

You were surprised when Joel decided to bite his tongue, not slipping out with some smart allelic response about the place. Instead, he hummed, a quick and easy response to your answer.

“I’ll see you then,” he replied, but something about his words made your chest burn, like it was almost a promise that he’d be there to look out for you. To protect you.

He did wind up picking you up that night and numerous nights after you explained to him that your alternator had given out and your car would be in the shop for a couple of days. He never argued or took your gas money despite the way he grumbled under his breath when you knocked at his front door at quarter past three.

It was almost routine to have Joel take you to and from work, and when your car was back in operation, you nearly didn’t want to tell him. Though your time together hadn’t really given you a glimpse into the man Joel truly was since he hardly spoke, it allowed him to get to know you.

You’d rambled on about your absent father, how your mom had abandoned you once she realized you could support yourself. Never did he judge or belittle you. He’d always listen and make sure you were heard.

Despite that, he never answered your questions when you’d pried at him. Asking him about family? No go. The business he’d given up? Of course not.

Anything about Sarah?

The first and only time you had fished for information about her, you thought he was going to toss you out of his car. His eyes narrowed and fists clenched the steering wheel, an audible growl of anger leaving his throat.

“You ever say her name again, and you can walk to work, understand?”

You hadn’t seen much of his anger explode like that before, except during the unexpected arrival of his brother, Tommy. It was on the evening that you finally got your car back, and as you mustered the courage to walk over to Joel’s trailer to let him know that he didn’t have to take you back and forth, you noticed something. In front of his crumbling front deck was a dark pick-up truck, one that didn’t belong in a place like this. It was sparkling new, clearly waxed, with big, gleaming rims.

Before you even had the chance to think much about it, you heard a shout inside Joel’s trailer, a booming voice that almost made you scurry back to your own home.

“I already told you, Tommy! I’m not doin’ it!” Footsteps tracked through the house, heavy boots against weak plywood practically shaking the trailer. You could see shapes pass by the front window, suggesting that both Joel and his seemingly unwanted guest were about to come outside.

Now you were actually scurrying across his lawn, attempting to retreat back from Joel’s yard before you were spotted, but the front door opened too quickly. Thankfully, the heated conversation between him and who you assumed to be Tommy precluded their heated gazes from meeting yours.

Without wanting to assume who Tommy was, he certainly looked like he was related to Joel - their intense glares were almost identical. The height, the face-shapes, all of it. Even Tommy’s deep drawl matched as he bellowed in return.

“I don’t understand why you gotta be so goddamn stubborn. Here I am, drivin’ halfway across the county just to see you, to give you an opportunity to get out of this shithole, but instead, you’re chosin’ to live in a shell and letting yourself wind up just like-”

Joel’s frame towered over Tommy’s despite the considerable height that Tommy had himself. Something dark was brewing beneath Joel’s features, clearly quite close to boiling over. Even though you knew you were watching an intense, private moment, you had never seen this kind of emotion from Joel before. You were almost bewitched, unmoving, questioning if you should intervene to stop a potential fight from breaking out.

Tommy’s nostrils were flared, his chest pressed against Joel’s, while Joel’s fists were clenched into a tight ball, threatening to strike like a snake.

“I told you last time. Bring her up again, and you won’t have a mouth left to speak from.”

Tommy scoffed. “She was just as much mine as she was yours, Joel. Just because you ran away when things got hard and buried yourself deeper and deeper into a hole doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.” He began to stomp off of the front porch, making his way to the truck that was parked in the driveway.

“But that’s fine! This will be the last damn time I come over thinkin’ that maybe you’re ready to change. Go ahead and delete my number from your phone.”

Both you and Joel, as well as a couple of other neighbors who had decided to leave their houses to view the commotion, watched Tommy’s truck tires screech against the pavement. His departure was bitter and final, an angry bite to the way he spit those words.

You can’t imagine being on the receiving end of them, and when you turned your head to glance at Joel, you found his eyes boring into you. His shoulders are pulled tight, and his jaw is set, and he said nothing as he stepped back into his trailer and slammed the door hard behind him.

Perfect timing, you thought to yourself. There’s never been a better day for your car to have been up and running again. You didn’t waste time lingering in his yard.

But before you can feel the pavement of the narrow street beneath your sneakers, his disgruntled voice cut through the air. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

You turned to face him, unsure of yourself. Joel’s an asshole, you know that much, but you didn’t think you’ve ever seen him this worked up and angry. “Uhm…about that. I was just coming to tell you that I don’t need a ride today-”

Joel scoffed and shook his head, keys jingling in his hand “Get in the damn truck,” he said, venom on his tongue. And you know he’s not mad at you, but your stomach turned at his fury anyway. “Gonna be late if we don’t get a move on.”

Tomorrow, you decide. You’ll tell him about your car tomorrow. But for now, you do as he said. While he stuck the key in the ignition and turned the engine over, you climbed into the passenger seat, which still smelled faintly of your perfume from the night before.

He pulled onto the road and started the familiar route to the bar, his movements rehearsed and, by now, muscle memory. You sat in silence as he steered with one hand and pulled a cigarette from the center console with the other. He lit it, inhaled the nicotine deep into his lungs, and let out a heavy sigh.

You wondered if you should say something. A million questions are pressed against the back of your teeth. But now isn’t the best time to poke and prod for a glimpse into the man he is outside of what you’ve seen with your own two eyes. So you decided to say something else instead, something that might grant him a little relief. “My car is fixed. That’s what I was trying to tell you. So, tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about giving me rides anymore.”

He glanced at you briefly and then shook his head. “No.”

The word is so simple and definitive in his mouth that it caught you off guard. So much so that you found yourself fighting amusement. “What do you mean no?”

“Just what I said, damn it. You hard of hearing all of a sudden?”

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?” You hadn’t wanted to press his buttons. Truly. But what right does he have to spew insults as if you were the one screaming at him on his front porch? Your tone was condescending as you said, “Come on. Try it with me; congrats! I’m sooo happy things are finally going your way! I’m glad I could be of help! No problem at all-!”

“Cut that shit out.”

“Me? You first.”

His jaw feathered as he clenched his teeth. He ashed his cigarette out of the open window and then sighed again, calmer this time. “Alright. I’m…”

“Sorry?”

His throat bobbed as if he tried to get the word out but it didn’t quite make it to his tongue. Instead, he just said, “Yeah.”

This time, you’re the one sighing. “It’s okay.”

Another few seconds of silence passed between you, but they were not as uncomfortable as they’d been when you’d first gotten into the truck. Less tension, less anger. And then he said, “Don’t want you drivin’ anywhere in that thing in the middle of the night.”

Your heart pinched in your chest at the words. They’re said with a certain sort of irritation, but yet they’re still so… protective. It’s not something you’ve ever had before, but in the last few days he’s given you a taste and it isn’t until now that you realized you’d developed a craving for it. “Why not?”

“Ain’t safe. Could break down again any second. Leave you stranded at midnight in the middle of nowhere. God knows the kinda people you’re servin’ at that place, would consider themselves lucky to find ya on the side of the road.” He shook his head as if to clear the image from his mind. “I’ll just keep takin’ ya.”

Even though you fought the warmth that crawled up your cheeks, you know he could tell his words did something to you. Joel’s attention left the road for only long enough to steal a fleeting glance at your face, and when he turned back to the task at hand he snorted incredulously.

But it’s the first time that anyone has ever considered your safety and altered their routine to make it a priority. It makes you feel special and warm and…wanted. And you know it’s likely your daddy issues blurring the lines once again, but you just can’t help yourself or the way your mind jumped to conclusions. “Is that your way of saying you care about me?”

He pressed his fingertips into his temple to massage away a headache. “Stop that.”

You didn’t listen. Of course, you don’t. You leaned in closer, hands on the empty leather seat between you. “Aww… who would've thought Joel Miller would secretly be a softie?” You’d never been so close to him before, so close that you could see the brown-colored freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose.

You swallowed down your sudden nerves due to the close proximity, enjoying the way Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I said cut it out. Sit back down the right way ‘fore I get a ticket.”

It was impossible to follow his orders now, not after seeing how easy it was to rile him up.

Moving even closer, your lips a breath's distance away from Joel’s neck, you whispered, “I think you like the attention.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” he huffed back, but his voice lacked the bite he intended, much softer than the way he was yelling at Tommy earlier. His gaze flicked over to you, watching with an intense curiosity, but only momentarily.

“I won’t tell you again,” Joel commanded, brushing you back to your seat with a gentle shove of his elbow.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you questioned, although you were sitting back in your seat like he asked you to. “Punish me? Spank me?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, I oughta. Maybe it’d finally teach you some manners,” Joel glanced over to catch your eye. “Anyone ever told you that you got a real weird sense of humor?”

Shrugging, you couldn’t help the slide smirk that spread across your face. “Blame it on my daddy issues.”

Joel didn’t even try to hide his disbelief, a red flush rising from the top of his collarbones and up his neck.

“Lord help me,” he whispered under his breath.

You granted him a bit of grace, ending your teasing and opting to enjoy the sound of music playing on the radio for the rest of the ride. It was always peaceful riding with Joel, the heat of the summer breeze warming your face.

From the heady smell of Joel’s Marlboros to the shrill voice of The Smashing Pumpkins playing over the speakers; the comfort of the situation always made you want to break down Joel’s walls. You wanted to see what he was like when he was entirely vulnerable, what he looked like when he woke up in the morning and didn’t have the opportunity to remember all his worries.

From that moment, you decided that you would get Joel to open up one way or another.

Your heart dropped a little when he pulled into the bar's parking lot, his tires crunching against the loose gravel. Joel’s long fingers were swift, reaching to the radio to turn down the music.

Things felt weird, that same intensity from the moment you’d gotten into the car returning. It felt like he wanted to say something, his mouth twitching before his lips were pressed into a straight line.

“I wasn’t joking, y’know,” you said, hoping to break the awkward silence of saying goodbye.

Joel didn’t say anything, the curious raise of his eyebrow speaking for him.

“About wanting you to spank me,” you snipped back, hopping out of his truck right after you admitted it to him. You could see what appeared to be a stifled smile forming on his lips as he shook his head. It made you feel good that you were able to distract him from reality for even a couple of minutes. God knew he needed it.

“See you at midnight. Stay out of trouble,” he called back from his truck, waiting to leave until he watched you safely enter the building.

He was on your brain your entire shift, which wasn’t unusual. What was different now was the pieces of information you’d found out, ranging from his argument with Tommy and his little resistance to your flirting.

So, of course, curiosity killed the cat. On your break you found yourself googling a string of searches; Joel Miller, Tommy, Joel and Tommy, until eventually you landed on an old company website.

Miller Bros Construction Company.

It was outdated, with inquiries and testimonials from years ago, but it did answer a couple of your questions. After clicking on the “about us” tab, you saw a photo of a much younger, happier-looking Joel.

His arm was thrown around Tommy’s shoulder, a huge smile plastered on his face. If you didn’t know every inch of Joel’s face, you would’ve considered that it wasn’t actually him. He looked so… happy. It broke your heart to know that he had become half of the man he used to be.

‘Brothers Joel and Tommy Miller have been serving the greater population of Austin, TX for several years,’ the tab read, confirming your suspicions that they were related. You glanced at Tommy, happily smiling next to Joel, directly contradicting what you’d seen earlier.

The inquiry tab at the bottom was broken, redirecting to a no longer active form.

Christ. His daughter's death had indeed ruined him. It had sucked all of the happiness out of Joel, leaving him angry and alone. He pushed everything good and decent away.

You spent the rest of your break lurking, sifting through Tommy’s Facebook page, seeing his now solely owned business booming. He had a pretty fiancé, and things honestly looked good for him. You noticed that Joel was nowhere on his page, but you would occasionally see photos of Tommy and Sarah beaming together before she’d gotten sick.

The guilt of it all had eaten at you, so severely that you decided to buy a burger plate before the kitchen closed for the night. Joel had gone out of his way to take care of you, to take you back and forth from work, even though he grumbled about it. He deserved to feel taken care of in return.

Plus, you were almost certain that his diet mainly consisted of cigarettes and alcohol. How he still looked so goddamn good was a question you’d never have answered.

When you left work, it was like clockwork; Joel’s truck sat outside the building, waiting for you.

The sun was long gone by now, so it was difficult to see Joel sitting in the driver's seat. You’d hoped that he had cooled off from earlier, especially now that you know more about the context of the argument.

You plopped into the passenger seat, greeting Joel only by placing the plate of food on the center console.

“What’s this?” Joel questioned, no hello or how was your shift? Typical Joel Miller.

“What’s it look like? I got you dinner.”

He rolled his eyes, pointing a finger at the clock display. “It’s midnight.”

“And…?” He raised his brows and you clicked your tongue in response. “When was the last time you had a meal that wasn’t made in a microwave?”

Joel fixed you with a stare, and something lingered in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. It’s as if he’s trying to decide whether to yell at you or simply say thank you. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he stated, but there was no malice in it.

“I know. I wanted to.” You shrugged casually because it was truly nothing to you. But apparently, Joel didn’t see it that way.

The truck sat idle in the parking lot. He said nothing for several seconds, which felt far too long. It was dark—the only illumination provided was the distant street lamps outside, but you swore you could see the corners of his mouth turn up. Not quite a smile, but something. And it made you feel so victorious that you thought about mentioning it, about making some snide remark, but know better by now.

Instead, you teased him. “At this rate, I might as well pack a bag and stay the night here.”

Joel scoffed but turned the key in the ignition anyway. “You got a mouth on you, girl. That’s for damn sure.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t sent me away yet. So there must be something you like about it, right?”

He doesn’t agree but he doesn’t deny it, either. Still, sarcasm dripped off his tongue as he said, “Somethin’ like that.”

When he turned the radio up, a rock ballad played and put you at ease. You start to realize that these quiet moments with him are the lightest part of your days. Nothing to think about but the way the cool wind hit your face and the sound of his soft humming from behind the wheel. It’s simple and good and you feel safe.

When he pulled into the trailer park a short while later, you almost hated to see it end. For a split second, you debated inviting him over in an attempt to extend your time together. But you knew that after the day he’s had, he probably didn’t want the company. So instead, you gathered your things and hopped out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hang on a sec.”

You paused with your hand on the passenger door. “Yeah?”

Joel hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak, but all he managed was, “Uh..” His eyes darted everywhere but yours. The dashboard, the steering wheel, his hands - everywhere but you.

He’s nervous, you realized. Uneasy. You tried to comfort him. “What is it?”

“I, uh…I was just wonderin’ if, I don’t know. You wanna… split it with me?” He pointed to the takeout container. “Or you could have a drink, or…do you drink?”

Your heart was doing somersaults behind your sternum. A girlish giggle left you despite your attempts to hide your excitement. Through a face-splitting grin, you asked, “Like a date?”

“Christ,” he sneered. “You know what? I take it back. Never-”

“I’m kidding!” Your laughter filled the cab of the truck. “I’m just kidding, Joel, I swear. Of course, I’ll come in for a drink.”

He looked hesitant, and at first, you thought it was because of how you’d been pulling his leg all night. By the time you had made it inside of his trailer, you realized that he was probably a little nervous on account of the mess in his living room.

Empty bud light bottles covered the surface of the side table next to his couch. An ashtray haphazardly placed on the kitchen counter was long overdue to be emptied, ash and half-smoked cigarettes threatening to spill over. Next to it were a couple of prescription bottles, the print too small for you to make out what they were supposed to be treating.

No matter how you felt about the place, you understood how difficult it all must’ve been for Joel. It wasn’t dirty or anything, just unkempt, a man overwhelmed by grief too distracted to focus on cleaning.

“It’s not much to see, but feel free to make yourself at home,” Joel said, slipping past you at the front door to place the bag of food down on the kitchen counter. You watched him momentarily, taking in the normalcy of his routine.

His movements to wash his hands before eating, the clatter of plates being pulled out of the dishwasher. Watching him in his element relaxed you. You tried to envision what it was like in the home when Sarah was still alive, filling the space with her innocent laughter.

“I won’t bite,” Joel spoke, pulling you out of your own head. Your gaze refocused, a quiet sense of fulfillment washing over you as you watched him for a fleeting second.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” you chirped back, toeing out of your work shoes and heading over to his leather couch. A knitted blanket thrown across the leather prevented the back of your legs from pressing against the cold material, and you were grateful.

“Do you get pleasure outta givin’ me a hard time or something?” Joel asked, plopping next to you. He slid a plate over to your side of the coffee table, pulling the table forward slightly so you’d be able to reach it easier. He placed two beers on the table, too, and cracked the seal of yours. It’s such a small but gentlemanly thing to do, and you try not to think too hard about how it makes your heart swell.

You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until he unwrapped the bag and split the food between the two of you, your stomach growling in response.

“I just like seeing you squirm,” you joked, noticing how Joel shook his head and snorted under his breath. Both of you ate together, quietly but comfortably.

You were sure that Joel spent most of his nights like this, in his living room with the TV flashing light across the walls of the house. It made you feel good that you were there to change his routine so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

The longer that time passed and the less food on your plate created an odd sense of pressure, that you were running out of time to pull something new out of Joel. Being in his home was an accomplishment on its own, but you still had a challenge with yourself to learn even more.

“Do you wanna, uh,” you began to speak, picking at one of your fries to fill the awkward space, “y’know… talk about earlier?”

“Nope,” he replied without hesitation, which you probably should’ve expected. Your pout was uncontrollable, discouraged by his instant lack of vulnerability. But you weren’t going to force him to talk, because he’d for sure shut down.

“Not to be cheesy or anything, but you’re pretty decent to be around, once you stopped being an asshole all the time,” you said, finishing the final bite of your fry. “If you ever need to talk about shit, I’m probably the best option you got here. Kathy tells everyone’s business, so.”

Joel actually chuckled at that, a deep, rumbling sound that made your gut twist. “I didn’t plan on talkin’ to anybody about anything, much less Kathy. But thanks.”

You nodded, a pang of disappointment flickering through your abdomen.

That night, you thanked him for the company and he promised to meet you in the afternoon right on time. The same routine you’ve had all week.

You and Joel get good at routines. Because the next night when you brought him dinner again, he didn’t even ask if you’d like to eat with him. He just said, “Picked up some sodas earlier. Figured you might want that instead of beer.”

And just like that, it became a nightly thing. The cooks at the bar don’t even ask what you want any more, they simply have the food finished by the time you’re ready to meet Joel in the parking lot. You had even occasionally fallen asleep in his living room, the comforting sound of the TV humming and Joel’s even breathing lulling you to sleep.

He always made sure to throw a blanket over you and quietly slip into his room, never waking you or forcing you to leave. It was an unspoken rule.

So, due to your growing interest in Joel and alleviating some of his stress, you decided to take a leap. One morning you’d woken up on Joel’s couch after falling asleep there the night before. Joel wasn’t home, which wasn’t unusual since he sometimes picked up odd jobs at the mechanic's shop in town to pay the bills.

It was the perfect opportunity to clean his house. You weren’t sure how he was going to feel about it, but you were only going to take out the trash and leave everything else as it was. You didn’t need him hollering at you for moving his shit around.

You had a good four hours to just clean out the place, and Jesus, you needed it. It appeared that he didn’t have any other cleaning products besides bleach and dish soap, which you couldn’t really use to get some old stains out of the carpet. It had taken you an hour of rifling through your own stuff to get the correct products and supplies to make a dent.

By the time you finished a couple hours later, you had three trash bags full of random newspapers, beer cans, and whatever other miscellaneous stuff you were sure Joel wouldn’t be upset to part with. Surprisingly, you hadn’t seen anything belonging to Sarah, no pictures hanging on the wall, no toys, nothing that indicated that anyone besides Joel had lived there.

That was until you’d decided to step into the room towards the back of the trailer. Joel’s bedroom was hardly used, his bed made and room clean, indicating that he probably spent most of his nights on the couch, so you didn’t bother cleaning that space. You were, however, curious about the spare room.

As soon as you’d opened it, you knew why you couldn’t find anything of Sarah’s. It was like a museum, a room stuck in time. Light pink paint covered the wall, the late afternoon sun streaming in colorful rays through the sheer purple curtains. The bed was made, without a wrinkle in sight, with a little teddy bear tucked in, as if it was keeping the bed warm for Sarah’s return.

You stepped in a little, taking in the small details; the photos of Joel and Sarah hugging on the wall, a little caboodle makeup box, and nail polishes lined up against the dresser. What truly broke your heart was the oxygen tank that was placed next to her bed, still attached to the mask.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” spoke a voice from behind you, almost causing your body to jump out of its skin. You whipped around to see an absolutely fuming Joel watching you with narrowed eyes. You stammered, quickly trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

“I was cleaning and I thought, I mean I was thinking that-“

Joel quickly approached you, his face only a mere breath away from yours. You were too anxious to even notice the closeness because you knew he was beyond pissed. You don’t think he was even this mad when he was fighting with Tommy.

“I don’t know why you think that you’re entitled to comin’ into my life, touchin’ my shit, steppin’ foot into this room, but guess what? You’re not.” He spat, stepping even closer to you. You felt tiny, like a bug ready to be squashed by a foot.

“You don’t mean shit to me. Just because your life is fucked up doesn’t mean I need you to try to come into mine and save me. I don’t wanna be saved. Now get the hell outta my house,” he spoke, his voice unwavering and scarily calm. It took every ounce of strength inside of you not to cry, not to shout, because you knew he didn’t mean it. You had crossed his invisible line, despite not doing it intentionally.

But you weren’t strong enough to control your emotions, and eventually, the pressure of Joel’s angry words left your eyes watering. Though your jaw was clenched and your face wasn’t giving much away, Joel easily saw past the facade and noticed the tears welling up in your eyes.

And he scoffed. A quick laugh, right in your face, at seeing your tears.

“Christ, you gonna cry now? Upset that you don’t got no daddy here to comfort you, gotta take out all your trauma on me? Fuckin’ pathetic.”

Your tears turned from hurt, into angry, hot streams rolling down your face.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

You could feel your blood pumping in your head, so angry that you could break something. He was lucky that you made your way straight out of his house instead of grabbing all of the trash bags and pouring them right back onto the floor.

You knew that he was self-destructing, that he was pushing you away because you were too good for him, but it didn’t make his words hurt any less. He wasn’t wrong. You did take interest in him because he was broken, similar to yourself. Despite that, it didn’t hurt any less.

As painful as it was to believe, you began to wonder if he had fooled you.

Maybe all that remained of Joel Miller was the worst part of him.

[part two]

#joel miller #pearlessance #joel miller x reader #ao3 fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #angst #the last of us hbo #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #trailer park joel miller #brat taming #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou #tommy miller makes an appearance #dividers by adornedwithlight

554 notes · View notes

hollowdeath · 1 year ago

Text

obsession (hjp)

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry potter (19) is attending university after hogwarts, and isn't recovering well from the war. completely alone, harry soon grows attached to you, the girl from his potions class. however, his attachment quickly turns to obsession, and harry isn't sure how much longer he can be just friends.

content warning: smut!!! perverted thoughts/acts, shame, masturbation, stalking, obsession, yearning/pining, intoxication, jealousy, stealing panties, dry humping, cumming in pants, oral sex, overstimulation, penetration, creampie

a/n: sooo i wrote over 19k words in like 2 days. but i haven't written a proper fanfic in literal years so please be kind. heavilyyy inspired by "never have i ever" from @selfcarecap , please go read it when you have the chance!! this is very much a SLOW BURN, do not proceed if you do not thoroughly enjoy pining…ft. a shy, inexperienced, slightly obsessive university student harry who has jealousy issues and perverted tendencies but is still such a complete gentleman…some of this might not be book/movie accurate…sue me...

song: Do Friends Fall In Love? - Rachael & Vilary

harry's expectations of university weren't very high to begin with, but he didn't expect it to be this shit.

there were limited options for him since he had no desire of leaving the U.K. to further his career as an auror. and since the only 2 schools that offered a program for him were either an old, run-down campus in the middle of nowhere or an overpopulated city school known for its infamously average quidditch team, his decision wasn't difficult.

the dorms, however, made him reconsider entirely.

though harry was grateful to have a solo room, it was entirely bleak and smelled vaguely of mildew. one tiny window he's unable to open past a few inches and a depressing overhead fluorescent bulb was enough to have him searching the other university's dormitory information, only to be just as disappointed with the result.

harry gets over it quickly, as it becomes fitting to his mental state at the time. plain, cold, and unforgiving, harry feels like it's what he deserves to live in after everything he's seen.

to say harry hadn't been doing well after the war was a criminal understatement. his whole life had been leading up to and dedicated towards killing voldemort before he killed harry first. in that time, he held a purpose and drive to fulfill everyone's expectations of him. and, once he did, he was left with nothing.

voldemort had consumed harry's entire life, and the lives of everyone around him as well. though they technically both died, harry had the choice to live again. after he made that choice, he was never the same.

the relationships around him were changed forever. he lost friends. he lost family. he lost himself. and yet, life continued.

applying for university felt so silly to harry at the time. he had just fought in a war and died, and now he had to sign up for 9 a.m. transfiguration classes. to say he was uninterested was putting it lightly.

it didn't help that he knew no one there. it was nobody's first choice school by any means, and it didn't exactly have the best reputation. his classmates fizzled out into other schools or already had jobs, like ron…

ron and hermione. seems like lately wherever hermione went, ron followed. of course she got accepted into some of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, with some practically begging her to pick them over the others.

in the end she chose westminster, a legendary university along the northern ireland coast that saw many great members of the ministry in its time. harry's school was practically the furthest it could've been from her all things considered.

ron worked for the ministry office in the area like his father, though he was more like an assistant or secretary than an active member. still, he was paid well and ultimately he and hermione were able to find a place near both of their priorities that worked well for them.

harry knew he wouldn't see them very often at this point. no matter, his relationship with them had long since changed, and not for the better. ron had lost his brother and hermione had lost her parents. once the calm settled after the storm, there was a lingering tension between him and them that went unmentioned for over a year before they split ways silently.

harry still talked to hermione towards the end, mainly to discuss ron and his grief. harry knew the growing coldness between him and his friend wasn't unjustified. harry felt a level of guilt that he previously thought was impossible when it came to fred, and though ron never out right blamed harry, it was just never the same between them.

harry knew their relationship wasn't completely at a loss. like hermione told him, it just needed time. once they both process what happened they can always come back to each other.

but for now, harry was alone. completely and utterly alone.

his first day of classes were confusing, boring, and packed with students. seriously, every seat in every lecture hall was filled, and the hallways were just a mess. the sidewalks weren't much better with too many people being too loud, walking too slow or too fast. in the end, harry was exhausted by the time he showed up for his last class of the day.

another packed room despite his effort to be there earlier than he planned. rather than a lecture hall like all his other classes that day, this last one was set up with plenty of tables and cauldrons. potions. harry loved this class at hogwarts. as his eyes scanned the room for an empty seat, he felt eyes fixated on him from every direction.

though he looks like the same harry potter everyone's read about, he's completely different now. his once bright eyes and radiant smile have been replaced with eye bags and unkempt facial hair. both his short beard and his overgrown hair gave him a messy, disheveled appearance that was rougher than people remember. but, as always, the glasses had never left, and neither had his scar.

ignoring the curious glances and whispers, harry takes a seat towards the middle of the room at an empty table. as more students filed in, his table became the last place to sit. he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his first day and he already had a reputation.

as the final bell rings, the last student comes walking through the doorway.

it's you.

you're walking quickly, rushing into the classroom just as the ringing of the bell comes to an end. right behind you is the professor, a man of small stature with an impressive beard yet bald head.

"ms. [y/l/n]." he simply states.

you stop in your tracks, a look of defeat crossing your face as you slowly turn to him.

"professor rodden." you respond cheerfully. "it's nice to see you."

he looks unimpressed with your tone.

"we should try to be a bit more punctual next class period, hm?" he asks condescendingly.

harry is taken aback by the immediately intense interaction between the two of you. there's clearly an established relationship there that doesn't seem to be positive.

he can't see the look on your face as your back is turned to him, but he can hear the forced smile in your voice as you cordially respond, "of course. my apologies."

you turn on your heel, facing harry as you quickly find your seat across from him at his table. with all eyes on you, harry looks away and at the front of the room towards professor rodden.

rodden had an indistinguishable look on his face about the situation, but quickly moved on with introducing the class. as he shut the door and began writing on the board, harry took a moment to look back at you.

somewhere in that time you had pulled out a book and ink pen as you began taking notes. your hair fell around your face as you concentrated on your penmanship; a slight furrow of your brows and pursing of your lips.

you were gorgeous. he couldn't deny it.

something about the way you got lost in your notes was so mesmerizing to him. the intense exchange between you and the professor seemed to have no effect on you as you continued to scrawl your thoughts onto parchment. harry couldn't imagine himself being so calm as to just begin jotting down notes immediately after such a conflict.

his eyes flickered from your concentrated expression to your ferociously moving hand, writing line by line in succession without so much as a second's pause. he had to admit he was impressed with you, but he wasn't quite sure how to describe it.

finally, you felt his curious gaze on you.

looking up at him, harry's struck with how beautiful your eyes were. his heart jumps along with his stomach, he's never had such a physical reaction to someone's features before. you're just, so…right. like everything about you just makes sense together.

harry's used to people recognizing him pretty quickly, mostly before he even sees them first. it almost feels like having a big sign taped to his back that says "harry potter, the boy who lived twice". but, you…you just looked at him. simply looking, nothing more.

he felt so see-through at that moment, like you were looking right past him. he could feel his heart thumping, and would be surprised if you couldn't hear it for yourself.

you give him the most casual smile in the world, barely an acknowledgement of his existence in that moment, and yet it fills him with something entirely warm and familiar. he's sure he looks completely lost staring at you, turning his head at the last moment to relieve you of his gaze.

it's a simple, introductory, first day of class. you're all let out half an hour early with no assignment other than to show up for the next, real class on wednesday.

as you're packing up to leave, harry is back and forth between introducing himself to you or letting you leave. surely you'll talk to him at some point during this class, right? especially if no one else seems to sit with you two for the rest of the semester.

but, as you turn your back to him to leave, he makes the split second decision that he can't let you leave without a proper introduction.

quickly gathering his books, harry follows you out the door along with the ridiculous amount of students flooding the halls. scrambling for a reason to talk to you, harry catches up to your left side as you look over at him with surprise.

"how does rodden have it out for you already, hm?"

it's a genuine question he has, but he's not sure it's a great topic to bring up during your first interaction.

looking up at him as you both walk away from the classroom, your cheeks go red as you chuckle dryly to yourself and look away. "oh, arthur?" you ask.

harry's shocked. not just at the way you're looking at him, but the boldness of calling your university professor by their first name so casually. he doesn't know how to respond.

"he's a total wanker," you say with a smirk. "had him 3 semesters in a row now and he just…ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes. harry is even more at a loss. he's surely never called anyone a wanker, let alone a professor, but he can't help himself from laughing at your frustration.

"oh? what's so bad about him?" harry asks as he continues to follow you outside, a cool breeze blowing your hair back in the most cinematic moment harry's ever experienced in real life. as you look up at him, your eyes catch the sunlight and practically melt him on the spot. his breathing hitches at your shy smile and rosy cheeks, and he just couldn't understand how a human could look like that so casually.

"honestly, he's not so bad. he's actually quite a good professor…" you say with a twinge of guilt, turning to look ahead of you. "he just doesn't like me, i guess. we don't see eye to eye, to put it kindly." you laugh it off.

harry doesn't understand. you seem like such a pleasure to be around, and he's only known you these past few minutes. how could anyone dislike you? especially when they're looking into those eyes.

he continues to walk with you, asking about your classes and what your schedule's like. no other classes together, to harry's disappointment, but it's because you're a year above him.

"wow, have any advice for a first year, then?" he asks. it feels like a bit of a silly question, but he just wants to keep talking to you.

you chuckle, like you do after everything he says. he's not sure what to make of it, hoping it's that you truly do find him that funny. "well, i guess i would just tell you to study constantly, keep to yourself, but don't take any shit." you smirk at him again.

he likes that advice. he can already tell you're the type to not let anyone push you around, like with rodden. he likes that about you. you're a bit more confident than him, and you're not afraid to be bold despite your naturally sweet, gentle nature. you're funny, witty, intelligent, and, of course, unbelievably beautiful.

harry just keeps coming back to it through your walking and talking together. every time he looks at you he instantly loses his place in time. it's like everything goes quiet for just that split second that you're looking at him. he's never felt like this, but he's practically addicted to the feeling after the 10 minutes it took for him to walk you to your next class.

before parting ways, he asks for your name. "well, it's nice to meet you then, [y/n]. i'm–" "harry, right?" you ask sarcastically, giving him a cheeky smile. normally that answer would have left him defeated, you already knowing who he was, but for some reason, it didn't feel so bad this time. you never acted like you knew him once this whole conversation. you just let him talk and ask questions without feeling like he was anyone special.

well, of course he felt special. when you looked at him, that is.

he didn't want to let you leave, it physically hurt him to say goodbye. but he wasn't about to creep you out already. no, he had to make a good impression with you. so, he simply turned around and walked away, knowing he would see you again soon.

and as harry walked to his potions class that next wednesday, he had the biggest pep in his step he's had in a while. you'd think there was a tree full of presents waiting for him in that classroom the way he practically jogged through the maze of people between him and you.

as soon as he walked in, he saw you.

how could you get even more beautiful than you were before? he's actually taken aback for a moment as he makes eye contact with you. his heart is so loud in his ears it's deafening. as he slowly makes his way towards the table left for you two, he can't help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips.

"[y/n]." he says, letting it roll of his tongue. you smile warmly at him, your eyes softening. "harry. it's nice to see you again," you chirp.

he's just mesmerized by you yet again, the way you say his name is like a song he never wants to turn off. he's pretty much in complete awe of you as he sits across from your seat.

you chat a bit before class starts, an introduction to your first experiment. professor rodden explains that each table of four will split into partners for each assignment. as harry instinctively looks at you, he's already meeting your eager gaze.

he can't help it when he smiles like a fool at you. he can just hardly believe someone as amazing as you would want to spend even more time with him.

after class, you gush to harry about how excited you are to be potion partners together. his face completely flushes as he tries to return the sentiment, thanking whatever luck he has in this universe to be deserving of this opportunity to be with you all semester, twice a week at least, not including outside studying and walking you to your next class.

that night, after exchanging numbers with you to "discuss class", he finds himself staring at the number you scrawled on a ripped piece of notebook paper along with your name. he just holds it for a while, tracing the curves of your name with his eyes. you're just so amazing to him in every little way.

weeks later, harry is a wreck.

you see, he's become, well…completely obsessed with you. every moment he spends awake is spent thinking about you. in the midst of hours-long homework sessions or mind-numbingly long exams, all he wants to do is think about you.

you two have become increasingly close over time, figuring out your commonalities and learning about each other's interests. you invited him to your dorm and he was amazed at your ability to dress up such a desolate space. it felt warm, inviting, and quickly became a common place for you two to spend your time together.

you also bonded over food, and would often meet up for lunches or dinners and sometimes even breakfast if you were up early enough to respond to his calls.

and you two were always studying together, you really inspired him to stay on top of his classes not only to keep up with you but to also impress you. he really admired your work ethic as a second year and would always ask for your help with assignments.

of course it was nice to have help, but he mainly just wanted you to sit closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you explained something complicated to him in your soft voice, pointing at the book that sat in his lap. you could read the most boring textbook to him and make it sound like the most interesting piece of literature in the world.

a lot of things he did were mostly just an excuse to have you pay attention to him in some way. if he felt a bit unwell, he'd play it up a bit to get your sympathy and a back rub. he still gets the most insane goosebumps thinking about your hands all over him.

if he was hungry, he was suddenly starvinggg and needed one of your amazing grilled cheese's made in the student common room kitchen. you would roll your eyes every time, reminding him that you don't do anything special to it, but he insists it's better because you make it specifically for him.

in short, he was head over heels for you. he pretty much knew that first day you two met that he was already smitten with you, but it took a while for him to fully realize just how deep he'd gotten himself into this.

not only had he learned your entire class schedule without asking you directly, he knew your schedule outside of class as well. not through any disrespectful tactics, he just so happened to always study at the library next to your dorm building with a perfect view of the door you go in and out of.

he also knew who all of your friends were, at least the ones he's seen you with so far. it's not difficult when the university yearbook practically gives away their books for free to get rid of them. that's also how he found out what clubs and organizations you're apart of, and knew exactly what to ask you to get you to talk about them with him.

see, some might see this and think harry's a bit creepy or overstepping some boundaries. and harry would agree.

he constantly feels guilty when it comes to his feelings for you. he's a complete gentleman when he's with you, but then he turns around and becomes this incessant stalker who needs to know what you're doing at all times.

that's not even the worst part. he feels so, so incredibly guilty about the thoughts he has of you.

harry's not one to feel shame from lust or masturbation, he doesn't have much experience with that stuff anyways so he never really understood the hype around it.

but now, things are different.

he's had random erections before, and he's gotten riled up from previous makeout sessions, but now, he was constantly horny.

all it took was an innocent look from you and he was hard. you often sat in your bed with him as you two studied and insisted on having a leg or arm touching him at all times, which made him completely hot and bothered. certain tones of voice you use or things you say to him can completely melt his brain on the spot.

this isn't meant to brag, harry felt truly awful for these one-sided thoughts. he felt like such a stereotypical man who thinks with his dick. the last thing he wanted was to make you think he saw you in a sexual way at all; he hated your stories about guys who only turned out to be sex fiends with no respect towards you. his blood boiled to think about it, actually, and swore to himself he would always be your friend first despite what he may feel towards you.

this is where the guilt was heaviest. you were constantly saying he was your best mate, one of your closest friends, someone you can really trust, and he held that so close to his heart. above all else, he cared about you so deeply. he wanted to keep you safe.

so when he started to think these thoughts or feel these feelings, harry beat himself up. how could he truly be a good friend to you if he was just so obsessed with you in every way?

you two had just finished up the last steps of your potion experiment for professor rodden's class in the library that harry frequented by your dorm building. as you and harry are talking and packing up to leave, you look out the wall of windows and laugh.

"hey, look. you can see my dorm perfectly from here." you say, pointing towards your building. harry freezes, feeling his mind go blank as you look back at him with a laugh. "little creepy," you say with a smirk, lifting your bag over your shoulder and the rest of your books in your arms.

harry is still frozen, terrified you're going to somehow figure out that that's exactly what he's been doing for the past month now.

"yeah, weird." is all he managed to get out.

as he walks you into your dorm, he barely has the door closed before you start taking your shirt off right in front of him, not even 3 feet away.

harry immediately turns around, letting the door close in front of him. "oh, sorry." he quickly mutters, his heart racing yet again. he didn't even see anything crazy, just the small of your back and the navy of your bra, but it was enough to immediately get him worked up.

he hears you laugh behind him, opening up your drawer. "you don't have to turn around, harry. i'm just changing my shirt." he can hear the smirk in your voice.

he's dumbfounded. all he's thought about for weeks is your body in front of him, and it's right here, and he can't bring himself to look. he feels each second pass by painfully slow, trying to answer himself as to why the fuck he's not turning around.

"okay, you can turn around now." you laugh as you roll your eyes at him. he slowly turns to you with an undoubtedly pale face and shocked expression.

you're standing at your drawer, new shirt fully on, and he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by watching, but you seemed okay with it. he's a bit lost in his feelings before you start asking him about something completely irrelevant, taking his mind off the mini-show he just got for free.

that night he's lying in bed, room completely dark except his bedside lamp, and he's thinking of you. like always.

as he replays the moment you took your shirt off right in front of his eyes, he finds himself grabbing for his cock without even meaning to. his hand wraps around the shaft as he begins thrusting his hips, imagining it's your hand like he has so many times before. it only takes a few seconds of stroking and thinking about your blue bra before he's made a mess of himself.

cleaning up afterwards was always the most guilt-ridden part of the entire experience. it was bad enough he thought of you sexually and constantly got hard just from you looking at him or calling him a loser as a joke, but to actually jerk off to the idea of you is something else entirely.

he tried not to get too down about it, plenty of guys do this right? whats so wrong with it if it doesn't affect his relationship with you?

except, it does. harry doesn't know how much longer he can go without telling you how he feels. the guilt he feels every time you refer to him as your best friend, not knowing he spends almost every night cleaning up his own cum off his chest just from thinking about your smile. how would you feel finding out your so-called best friend had these perverted thoughts about you?

as harry falls asleep, he hugs his pillow and pretends its you, asleep in his arms, completely safe.

it's halloween, and harry's never been more excited.

you enthusiastically asked if you could do a matching costume with him, and he'd never been so quick to agree. wearing a matching costume with you to a university party was possibly the first step in becoming a real couple. he wasn't necessarily thrilled about going to a party, but he knew if he was with you he would enjoy himself no matter what.

you couldn't decide what you two should be until harry suggested pirates as a joke.

"oh my gosh, harry! that's perfect!" you said with a huge smile. harry laughed at you, shaking his head. "really? i was kidding." he deadpanned. you narrowed your eyes at him. "yes, really! i think it'd be so cute. and i have the perfect top."

harry gets excited once you say it's cute, and is just happy to be included in your plans.

you take harry shopping just a few days before the party to find pirate-like clothes and end up with a good collection of stuff. at the last minute, harry pays for everything you bought and you give him the biggest, warmest hug he's ever gotten.

yeah, that was enough for him to know this was worth it.

the night of the party, harry feels a bit ridiculous walking up to your dorm in such a billowy white button up and the most uncomfortable, oversized pants he's ever worn. to top it all off his bandana didn't look right on his head, so he embarrassingly knocked on your door and waited for your reaction to his failure of a costume.

when you opened the door, he was stunned into silence.

you were just. so. hot.

your hair was loose around your face under a perfectly tied bandana, an off-the-shoulder white top similar to his worn over a red lace bra, along with ripped fish net stockings under a tied skirt and, shit, a fucking garter wrapped around your thigh.

to say he was insanely turned on and completely stunned by your beauty was an understatement. he couldn't believe this gorgeous woman in front of him was dressed like this to match with him at a party in front of everyone. he just couldn't stop staring at you up and down, not caring if you noticed him practically drooling over you.

"you look so cute!" you exclaimed at the sight of harry standing at your door.

he looked up at you, your soft eyes wide with excitement as you clasped your hands together. you motioned for harry to come in and opened the door further for him. he slid past you into your dorm room, intentionally breathing in your scent as he did, and practically fell apart at the seams. he was so, so attracted to you right now.

"but, let me fix that bandana." you say with a giggle. he turns around and you're already reaching for his head. his breath gets caught in his throat as your arms wrap around his head, retying the bandana tightly just below his hairline. you pull away a bit and smile at him before looking down at his shirt, reaching for that as well.

harry carefully watched your fingers begin to unbutton his white shirt, his world stopping in its tracks in this moment. he was so lost until you said, "gotta show off the chest hair."

as you continue to adjust his shirt with the top buttons undone, he can't help but admire your body and outfit from this angle, this close. everything worked together so well on you, and fit you perfectly in every spot. he felt like such a joke standing next to you, who could ever compare to such a goddess like yourself?

on your way to the party just outside of campus, you felt chilly in just a skirt and cropped top. harry noticed instantly. "cold?" he asks. you nod, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you start to shiver. harry instinctively wraps an arm around you before he can even process what he's doing. "uh, is this any better?" he inquires.

you look up at him with those damn eyes, and he's lost once again. "a lot better." you say sweetly.

at the party, you stick with him for a bit until a few friends pull you away to do some shots. he gives you a reassuring smile as he tells you to go, and he watches your barely-covered ass as you run along.

and so do a few other guys.

harry notices at least 3 guys around him who watch you leave, and at least one of them makes some snide comment about you to a buddy. his blood boils like he's never felt before. he could feel himself tensing up as he imagined what he would do to them if they ever tried to touch you.

harry takes a deep breath and finds a bathroom, running some water over his face to calm down. you were not his girlfriend. not even close. but he felt like any other guy who looked at you was looking at what was his. he was there for you 24/7, he knew your favorite everything, he saw how beautiful you were in all your states, not just dressed up at some costume fraternity party, and though that gives him no right over you, he just couldn't help but feel protective over someone who means so much to him.

you find each other again at some point during the party, and you're a bit drunk. harry finds it somewhat amusing at first, but quickly hates the way those guys are looking at you again. so, he wraps your arm around his waist, tells you it's time to go home, and you mindlessly abide.

on the way home he's completely in awe at the feeling of your arm wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulder. he felt like you looked like a proper couple, matching costumes and all, and he loved that thought.

as he walked you into your room, you immediately began stripping off your accessories. he was caught in that same predicament he found himself in not too long ago. does he casually let you unclothe in front of him or turn around and give you the privacy you deserve?

he quickly decided on the latter and turned away, making sure the door was locked for your privacy. you started giggling infectiously, stumbling around behind him. "you ok?" he asked with a smirk, amused at the sound of you struggling.

"no, need helppp," you whine, slurring your words slightly while still giggling. harry freezes. he hadn't even considered that you might be too drunk to get undressed by yourself. he's even more conflicted than before.

"m-my help?" he asked. obviously he knew the answer, he just didn't feel right taking your clothes off of you while you were intoxicated. "well duhh…" you giggled, taking another stumbling step behind him.

what should he do? if he says no you might feel like he's annoyed with you or doesn't want to help you out, when that couldn't be further from the truth.

before he can make a decision, you turned him around, his eyes landing on your glazed over eyes.

you had taken off the bandana and gotten your shirt partially off before asking harry for help. he's a bit startled to see you half dressed in front of him, but he quickly makes the decision to be professional and friendly about this situation.

he helps you take off your shirt the rest of the way, and unties your skirt around your waist. harry tries to divert his eyes as he does so to give you the most privacy possible in this moment, though his mind was pushing the most sinful thoughts he could muster.

his hands were shaky as he put both your skirt and top in the laundry, not even noticing how hard and fast his heart was beating until he took a moment to breathe.

just behind him, he hears you take a seat on your mattress. "can you take my shoesss pleaseee," you whine, sticking your left heel in the air towards harry.

the sight that beholds him in this moment is unholy.

you, practically naked except for your underwear and fishnet stockings, pointing a bright red heel at him with a pouty face as you wait for his help. he could devour you whole right here, right now. the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet tonight honestly had harry impressed with himself.

he nervously swallowed before reaching for your shoe, carefully sliding it off your foot as you gracefully lift the other leg towards him. he takes that heel as well and sets them next to your other shoes. he reaches in your closet for a big, comfy t-shirt and turns around to give it to you.

he sees you on your back, rolling around on the mattress, struggling to get your fishnets off, laughing to yourself as they get tangled on your legs. harry cant help but laugh at you as well, your carefree intoxicated state was just so adorable to him.

harry briefly helps you out of the stockings before handing you the t-shirt. "here, is this okay to sleep in?" he asks, putting the stockings on your dresser. "yeah!" you say cheerfully. "thanks, harryyy," you coo. harry immediately blushes, the way you carried out his name just made his heart sing. he was so lucky to be this close to you.

"gotta take this off," you say, pulling at the straps of your bra. harry nods and turns away. you giggle softly, grabbing for his hand. he turns to you in shock, looking down at your hand as you stand up from the bed.

"help me?" you ask seductively.

harry is frozen. are you meaning to be so overtly flirty right now? is this a bit from the alcohol? are you about to start laughing him off and put the shirt on anyway?

but you don't, you just patiently wait for his answer with puppy dog eyes. he glanced between you and the t-shirt in your hand, clearly a worried look taking over his expression.

"you don't have to," you say softly. that snaps harry out of his daze. "n-no, of course i'll help," he says eagerly. you smile again and turn around, gathering your hair to one side to get it out of the way for him.

harry has never been so aroused in his life. this is the most intimate he's ever been with anyone. he's never unclasped a bra before, and worries he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the world.

but he soon figures it out and manages to unclasp it for you. "there you are," he assures you. you slowly turn around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you hold the bra up. harry's completely infatuated with the delicious sight of you in front of him in this moment, but quickly diverts his gaze to an uninteresting part of the room.

"harry, do you want to see my boobs?"

harry snaps his head back at you with concern. his brows are furrowed and mouth agape. you have a genuine expression but your eyes are still a bit bloodshot.

"wh…what?" he choked out. he can't believe you asked that, even in this state. you've truly never showed interest in harry like this before, only subtle touches and looks that he interpreted how he wanted, but never anything like this.

well, unless you count the other day when you undressed near him.

but that was friendly, wasn't it? you were just changing, lots of friends change in front of each other. but this was completely different, you were purposefully exposing yourself to him. not only that, but you were asking him if you could, as if it wasn't the only thing he wanted in this moment.

"do you wanna see my boobs?" you ask again, giggling slightly.

harry blinks a few times, trying as hard as he can to not ogle over your body. this is all he's wanted, for months this is the only thing he's wanted, but right now just didn't feel right. you weren't fully aware of what you were doing or saying, and he couldn't, in good faith, continue further with this situation.

he carefully places his hands on your crossed arms, keeping them close to you as he talks.

"[y/n], you're drunk right now. and while i helped you get undressed, which was already a bit over the line, i don't want you to do something you'll regret."

you give him a look he can't quite decipher. your smile drops, your eyes focus, and your arms tense.

"i'm sorry," you say softly.

harry quickly reassures you. "don't be! seriously, don't be. i am so, so glad that you trust me enough to help you in this state. truly. it means the world to me, because i care about you so much." he gives you a warm smile.

you smile back at him. "then i hope you understand when i say i want to do this,"

you begin to pull your arms away from your chest, but harry is still holding them. he looks you in the eyes with worry, afraid of what you're about to do, yet more excited than he's been in a long time.

"but [y/n]..." he protests. "please?" you ask simply.

harry is reluctant, but he can tell you're going to be insistent, so he slowly lets go of your arms as you remove your bra from your body.

harry glances at your chest, his heart dropping. you're perfect.

perfect, perfect, perfect.

your skin looked so beautiful in the lowlight provided by your lamps and fairy lights. the curves of your boobs looked so soft and untouched. this was the first time harry was seeing tits in real life, and he was pretty sure this was the best they could possibly get.

he looks back up at your eyes, a shy smile spread across your expression. "beautiful…" harry whispers before he even realizes what he's saying.

you giggle, unfolding the shirt you handed him and swiftly pulling it over your head. "thanks, harry," you say so casually, turning around to make your bed so you can sleep in it.

he can hardly believe what's just happened. the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd practically been obsessed with for months, just willingly showed him her boobs for fun. though you were intoxicated and would most likely regret it tomorrow, hopefully not mad at him for letting it happen, he was still grateful that you felt that level of trust with him in any capacity.

what he wasn't grateful for, however, were these bloody pirate pants that gave him the most uncomfortable erection of his life. this was also definitely the hardest and most turned on he had ever been, so he's not sure if there's any comfort to be had in this moment anyway. while you focus on the bed, harry takes a step away and tries to calm himself down, thinking different thoughts to try and let the hornieness subside for just a bit longer.

as you plop into bed and begin getting comfortable, harry turns off a few lamps for you but keeps on the fairy lights in case you need the bathroom at any point.

"do you need anything before i head out, [y/n]?" he asks.

you sit up in your bed, a look of pain on your face.

"you're leaving me?"

harry is utterly heartbroken at the tone of your question. you sound so genuinely upset he immediately comes to comfort you, sitting on the edge of your mattress.

"oh, no, i-i won't if you don't want me to." he stumbles out. harry wasn't planning on staying, he was actually just imagining how good of a jerk he was about to have in 10 minutes, plus he's never technically stayed the night with you before. but he quickly pushes his perverted thoughts of you to the side and knows it's much more satisfying to him if he stays here and makes sure you're okay through the night.

you reach for the bandana that's still tied around his head and pull it off swiftly, leaving his hair disheveled. you throw it across the room with a laugh.

"sleepoverrrr" you cheer, patting the spot next to you on the bed. harry laughs with you, standing up and realizing he's still dressed as a pirate. "i didn't bring any clothes…" he says with a twinge of sadness.

you look at him confused. "you're a guy, just sleep naked." you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. harry is a bit stunned at this statement but quickly laughs you off, going to your drawers to look for a pair of pants. besides, he's still slightly struggling with a situation in his boxers and being naked next to you wouldn't exactly help him out.

he eventually put together a shirt and pants combo that fit him comfortably enough to sleep in. "hope you don't mind," he says as he changes into them.

"not at all," you say, watching him change in the lowlight. there's something in your voice that makes harry feel feral, an overwhelming desire to just let go and release the tension between you two. at least, the tension he thinks is there.

he quickly gets dressed, setting his pirate clothes and glasses on your dresser as the sleep begins to settle into his bones. he crawls into bed next to you, and is quickly invited to join you under the covers. he's a bit reluctant at first, but realizes he doesn't have much of a choice as he starts getting cold.

within a few minutes of saying goodnight to each other, you and harry drift off to sleep together.

you're the first one awake, a splitting headache and dry mouth creating an unpleasant feeling immediately after opening your eyes. you rub the sleep away from them and reach for a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, sitting up a bit to sip slowly.

"good morning," a deep voice rumbles just beside you. you instinctively jump a bit before your brain quickly recognizes harry's tone and accent. as you turn to him, he's adorably disheveled wearing one of your university crewnecks under your blanket.

he smiles at you. he looks so different without his glasses on.

"morning, harry," you say groggily. the moment doesn't last long before another wave of your headache hits you, causing you to rub your forehead. you groan in pain. "what happened last night?"

harry's a bit frozen. this is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. you don't remember anything from last night. he should've just dropped you off here and left right away, not even letting there be a chance of anything happening.

he's brought out of his thoughts when you look back down at him, a look of curiosity in your eyes as you continue to rub your head.

harry also sits up a bit before climbing out of bed, putting his glasses on from the top of your dresser.

"well…" he starts out nervously, scratching his head. "we went to the party," he says as he begins to stretch his back out.

"oh yeah, the party. we were definitely the best costumes there." you recall the night fondly. harry laughs nervously, worried about how you're going to react when you find out he undressed you and even saw you nearly completely naked in such an intoxicated state.

"right, yeah, of course." harry chuckles dryly. "but, um…at some point you left me and started drinking, so we didn't stay for long." he says carefully, his mind racing as he slowly, nervously paces between your bed and your dresser.

"classic," you chuckle, reaching for a hairbrush as you begin to comb through your knotty hair. "thanks for bringing me home, harry," you smile at him.

the guilt twists in his stomach like a knife, he can't believe how innocent you are. but he also can't believe what happened between you two last night, and just how eager you seemed for it to happen. he has to stop thinking about it before he gets turned on again.

"of course, [y/n], but, um…" he takes a deep breath before he continues. "you look cute in my jumper, by the way," you interrupt him, standing up from your bed as you begin to collect toiletries to take a shower.

his brain fogs from the compliment, but doesn't let it distract him from what he knows he has to tell you.

"well, thank you, but, um…" harry says with a blush.

you give him a confused look. "what's up?" you ask him. he's just going to come right out and say it.

"look, [y/n], i don't know if you remember, but…you asked me to help you get undressed last night because you were too drunk," he spits out, trying to immediately gauge your reaction before continuing. you just give him an even more confused look. "oh, well, thank you then. is that okay?" you ask incredulously.

harry stiffens. "yeah, um…i didn't mind helping, of course, it's just…" you giggle, opening the door to your en suite bathroom that's barely bigger than the shower within it. "harry, you're such a dork. do you actually feel bad for taking care of me when i was drunk?" you ask sarcastically as you set down various lotions and hair products onto the sink.

he cracks a small smile at you calling him a dork, but it doesn't last long. his heart settles a bit after hearing your positive outlook on the situation so far, but it doesn't stop completely.

"it's not that, um…but, uh, afterwards, you, well, kind of…" he awkwardly tried to find the words.

"you…showed me your boobs." not the most eloquent way of putting it.

your face goes pale. his stomach drops immediately.

"n-not by my request or anything!" he quickly reassures you (and himself). "it's just, i told you you might regret it, but you were insisting on doing it anyways…" he doesn't want to feel like he's blaming you when he was the sober one in charge.

"oh…" you say despondent, seeming lost in your thoughts as you search his expression. he gives you a moment to process what he's said. "yeah…" is all he manages to say.

you sigh. "i'm sorry, harry. it was wrong of me to force that on you." your apology is so sincere, and it immediately confused harry. force that on him? bloody hell. you really had no memory of just how much he enjoyed himself in that moment. harry's sure he looked like a kid at a candy shop just staring at your beautiful body in the warm light.

"what? no! i-i'm sorry i let that happen," he responds with a ridiculous tone. "i was the sober one, i should've tried harder to–""to what? stop a drunk girl from showing her tits? yeah, good luck with that one." you laugh, cracking a joke.

harry's nerves are much more calm. he's insanely grateful that you seem to be taking this news well and aren't angry with him.

"look, harry…" you start, adjusting your shirt around your shoulders. harry's been stealing glances of your delicious thighs and legs every so often as you talked.

"i'm really grateful for you. just in general, but for last night especially. you helped me out, and you were a complete gentleman, at least from what i can remember…" you joke with him. he cracks a smile too.

"so don't stress about it, yeah?"

harry lets out a breath of relief, physically feeling the weight of the situation lift from his shoulders. "yeah, of course. i'm really grateful you trust me like that." he's in awe of your grace in this moment.

you smile, stepping over to the laundry next to your dresser. you grab a shirt and some pants from your closet, and, before harry even realizes what you're doing, you drop your underwear you were wearing last night to your ankles, stepping out of them and walking towards the bathroom again.

"gonna shower for a bit," you inform him as you close the door behind yourself.

harry's left behind, staring at the door before returning his gaze to your panties.

they're red, much like your bra from last night, and he remembers taking note of them to keep in his fantasies later for accuracy. but now, here they were, just laying right in front of him.

he finds himself still staring at them when he hears you turn the shower on and step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind you. he looks at the door, and looks back at your panties.

for a while he just looks at them incredulously, not entirely sure why this specific detail has made him so irrationally horny. you were completely naked on just the other side of this wall, but he's practically mesmerized by the image of you casually sliding your red panties down your legs right in front of him like it wasn't the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed in his whole life.

before he knows it, the shower turns off. he's still left staring at your red panties. as he shifts his weight, he can see that they're a bit wet and slick in the light from you wearing them all night.

he can't take it anymore. his erection from last night has returned with a vengeance this morning. before harry could even realize what he's doing, he's picked up your underwear carefully, holding them between his fingers, your wetness still soaking through the cotton.

his heart is racing as he hears you brushing your teeth. what is he doing? if you caught him being perverted with your panties like this after just reassuring him that he wasn't in the wrong for what happened last night, he'd surely be on your bad side. but he can't stop himself.

he brings them to his face and takes a slow, deep inhale.

you smell completely divine. slightly sweet, slightly bitter. he gets goosebumps just thinking about how you must really smell. his erection is raging beneath your sweatpants he put on last night, feeling incredibly dirty from being so turned on by your used panties.

his stolen pleasure is too quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom doorknob jiggling. shit. as you're about to open the door, harry panics and shoves your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants.

you come out with freshly damp hair and raw skin. the wonderful smell of your shower products fill the room as you brush through your hair casually.

harry keeps a hand in his pocket over the panties so you don't have the chance of catching him, and to better conceal the raging boner that's not going away anytime soon.

you don't say anything as you place your toiletries back in their rightful spots, humming to yourself as you comb through your hair occasionally.

so casually beautiful, so effortlessly pristine. you amazed him every time with just how ethereal you could be at any given moment. a freshly clean angel fluttering around the room without a care in the world.

you begin complaining of your hangover headache and ask harry to get food with you. he's more than willing, his stomach already growling in response for him.

at breakfast, you sit in silence with harry as you both hungrily devour the pancakes you ordered. harry got you two glasses of orange juice to keep you hydrated after last night.

after a while, you inform him you have to go study, and he offers to help you. "thanks, but i can't be distracted. this exam is going to kick my ass." you complained to him. harry gave you a look. "i distract you?"

you laugh at him, leaving him at the lunch hall with a simple, "goodbye, harry. call me later."

when harry gets to his dorm room, he realizes he's still wearing your clothes. and, shit, he's still got your panties in his pocket.

harry slowly reaches for them, feeling a twinge of guilt and lust once his hand finds the fabric. pulling them out, he's in shock that he actually stole a pair of your panties. to be fair he didn't intend to, he just panicked and wasn't thinking straight.

but, now that he has them…

keeping the red lace hanging from his fingers, harry climbs into bed and begins to remember those unforgettable moments with you just the night prior. it doesn't take much to get him just as riled up as before, imagining the moments he was undressing you in slow motion. taking your heels off as you looked up at him with the most seductive eyes in the world. seeing the flesh of your breasts for the first time in the dim lighting, imagining how they'd feel in his rough hands. god, he feels so bad finding pleasure in these moments, but he physically can't resist it.

his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as to savor the memories flashing through his brain. he's been aching for this release since seeing you in your costume last night, just another memory that brings him closer to the edge.

finally, he slowly brings your panties to his face. though they've since dried in his pocket during breakfast and the walk home, the lingering smell is still enough to drive him wild. he's breathing them in like it's oxygen and he's drowning.

just as he's nearing the end, he brings the panties to his other hand and begins stroking his cock with them. the sight alone is enough to break him, his cum spilling onto his hand and all over your red panties as images of your half naked body continue to infest his brain.

this time, the immediate guilt was the worst it'd ever been.

as he began to clean up, he realized just how much he ruined your panties in his excitement. his cum had soaked through the thin fabric and was already drying around it. he cursed himself for ruining such a sacred momento that he should've cherished, but also quickly cursed himself for thinking that way about you in the first place.

you even said yourself that harry was being a perfect gentleman last night. yeah, a gentleman with a raging erection the entire night who steals your used panties for his sick pleasure…

he continues to clean himself up, putting your panties in a safe place where nobody can find them and he won't lose them. even just the thought of them being in his possession was enough to get him riled up again.

it's the stressful time between thanksgiving and christmas where school has the two of you completely spread thin. harry's constantly writing essays while you seem to have endless lab experiments to finish for other classes. the one saving grace is your potions class together, twice a week. it's what kept harry sane during this chaotic time.

spending even just this short hour and 15 minutes with you is enough to fulfill harry. he hasn't properly hung out with you in nearly two weeks and was missing you like he was withdrawing.

sitting close to you to copy some notes about the potion you two are working on, harry admires your handwriting for the millionth time since he's met you. "i just don't understand how you write so well, i can barely read my own," harry jokes, holding out his notebook, making you laugh and blush.

the potion you're working on is one that allows the consumer to communicate with animals for a short period of time. it's rather complex, but harry helps you keep things organized and encourages you when you get frustrated.

"i just don't get it, how is it 3 drops and not 6? i swear it was 6 last week…" you groan, looking through your notes as you set down the tincture, rubbing your face, exasperated.

harry sets a reassuring hand on your arm. he's gotten pretty good at being more physical with you, and isn't afraid to touch you casually like you always have with him. "hey, [y/n], it's okay," he tells you, catching your eyes with his. "it's been a stressful week, yeah? just a mistake, no big deal."

you give harry that same, warm smile you delivered on your first day meeting him. he often looks back at that day fondly, forever grateful he got the sudden courage to talk to you after this class. not only were you now his closest friend, you were also the light of his life.

as harry finishes up, he hands you the round vial full of luminescent, purple potion. "here you are, test it out."

you take a small swig of it just as professor rodden makes his way to your and harry's table. next to the table is a bird's cage on a hook, with a sweet owl inside named jewel.

you make eye contact with the owl, and begin to speak. to you and everyone else it just sounds like regular english, but the owl begins to hoot and flap its wings at you immediately.

"hello, jewel, how are we feeling today?" you coo.

amazing, incredible, unbelievable! jewel's hoots become intelligible to your ear as you practically jump up and down with a huge smile on your face. "it worked, it worked!" you announced to harry, instinctively jumping in his arms for a hug as he spins you around excitedly.

"yes! you did it! see, i knew you could." harry exclaims, setting you down and giving you a toothy grin.

you look at jewel again, who is turning her head at you every which way. how nice, you and the boy! how sweet indeed! her loud hoots make the class silent as they watch you interact with her.

"what's she saying?" harry asks curiously. you give him a shy smile, feeling your face turn red. "she likes us." you're not totally lying.

"well, ms. [y/l/n], i must tell you i'm quite impressed. not just at how quickly you two perfected this potion, but of your performance this semester overall." professor rodden compliments you. he turns to harry. "i see mr. potter has been a positive influence on you this year."

harry quickly shuts him down. "actually, sir, if you don't mind me speaking out of turn, [y/n] has helped me way more this semester than i've helped her. she's brilliant."

professor rodden turns to you, a pale face and shocked expression, and gives you a smile. "well, then, hat's off to you, ms. [y/l/n]." he says, bowing to you before continuing with his rounds in the classroom. "thank you, professor rodden."

after class, you're all over harry, resting your head on him, hugging him, touching him randomly, but he's not complaining of course. he feels lucky enough that you're so comfortable around him as to be touchy feely.

"thank you, by the way. for what you said to rodden." you thank him as you two walk into your dorm room. harry takes his usual seat at your computer desk. "of course, i wasn't about to let that wanker give me credit for all of your hard work." harry says, laughing. he's become so much more confident with you, even using your lingo in his own vocabulary.

"no, really, thank you. just, for everything." you smile at him. "you're the best friend i could ever ask for."

harry feels his smile slightly falter. he's always reminded that that's all you are is friends, and while he's insanely grateful for your friendship, probably more than anything else in his life, he just can't help but feel a bit lost at this point. he's insanely attracted to you, ferociously protective over you, and, yet, can't bring himself to tell you any of this.

"you're welcome, [y/n], but if anything i should be thanking you. you don't even know how much you've helped me, not just with school but with everything. you're, like, the only friend i have at this point." harry laughs, but it's true. he's tried to make friends in other classes this year but has been disappointed each time, they're just not you.

you give harry a sad smile. "that's not true, ron and hermione are still your friends. more than that, they're practically your family." you walk over to him and run your hand through his hair, something you know he loves. he looks up at you slightly through his eyelashes.

"hermione's right, they'll come back to you one day. just give it some time, yeah?"

harry melts into your touch. nobody can settle his mind like you do. he didn't exactly look for pity from people, but you were someone he felt so safe with that he could be completely vulnerable in front of you. the reassurance and love that you provided him in these moments healed him in a way he didn't understand.

"right," he sighs, giving you the same sad smile.

you whine and pull his head into your chest, resting your own head on top of his. "awh, i hate seeing you so sad." you say sympathetically, still running your fingers through the back of his hair.

if harry's being completely honest, he's not sad at all anymore. how could he feel anything but pure bliss with his head buried in your sweater and your fingers leaving goosebumps throughout his scalp? he leans into you like a dog being pet, so desperate for your touch.

you stay like that with him for a while, just enjoying each other's company. harry found solace in your heartbeat, feeling truly at peace for the first time in weeks. "i've missed you." harry practically moans, intoxicated by your warm scent, his eyes fluttering closed.

you hum, smiling softly to yourself, feeling harry practically melt into your arms. "missed you too, harry," you coo, enjoying the feeling of being together.

"the semester's almost over, then it's christmas." you remind him, lifting your head as you look down at his closed eyes. he looks so peaceful resting against you.

harry smiles. almost christmas. but more importantly, almost your birthday.

harry very vividly remembers a conversation he had with you towards the beginning of your friendship about birthdays and how neither of you particularly enjoyed them.

your birthday fell close to christmas, so, inevitably, it became synonymous with christmas growing up. never really getting a separate party or separate presents, you learned to not expect much the actual day of, and to rather wait for christmas so you could be celebrated on the side.

harry was having none of this. he thinks you forgot about the conversation with him completely, but he's thought about it constantly since then. he's been planning on giving you a special birthday on your actual birthday this year, and he's practically dying to tell you. but he doesn't, and he won't, because it has to be a complete surprise.

"hm. christmas." is all he says, tilting his head back to look up at you. from every angle he finds you so fascinating, you just get prettier and prettier the more he truly looks at you.

you're gazing at him so gently, so warmly, your hand practically cradling his head against you. harry blinks and you're suddenly leaning forward, planting a soft kiss against his forehead.

harry could've died happy at that moment.

he brings his head away from your chest as you step away, soft smile and blushing cheeks. watching you turn and start folding laundry mindlessly, harry feels the lingering kiss tingling his skin.

for a brief moment, he imagines himself coming up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, feeling you, pushing you to the bed…

harry quickly shakes his head, grinding his teeth at the horny urges he gets at the most simple actions. what other boys in university get an erection so quickly from a forehead kiss? sometimes harry felt like such a loser, not just with you, but with sex in general.

he never thought about it much before you, so it's not something he knows a lot about. he'd masturbated before, but not as often as he does now, or in the same way. usually he thought about making out with someone, maybe touching them, but now…he just felt so dirty, the things that his brain creates about you.

once you finish the laundry, you ask for his help to put stuff away. he's done this for you many times before, so he knows where you like everything to be.

he hangs up a few shirts and puts away some jeans and socks. he turns around to see you handing him a pile of your panties loosely stacked together. "here," you say as you're turned the other way, gathering another pile of clothes with your other arm.

harry is frozen for a second before reluctantly taking the underwear from you, immediately feeling his face flush.

he's instantly reminded of your panties sitting in his room right now. the panties he stole. the panties he masturbated with.

he's since washed them and keeps them out of guilt, partially, but he's not quite sure how to subtly return them to you. not like he wants to anytime soon.

as harry turns around and opens the drawer you put your panties in, he takes his time so he can admire all the different pairs in his hand. pinks, purples, reds, neutrals, blacks, he was practically holding a goldmine. it almost made him chuckle, the irony of you asking him to put these away.

he neatly tucks them into the drawer, admiring them one last time before slowly closing it.

for the first time that month, you and harry actually have the freetime to leave campus and get food together. your favorite diner is open all night and serves the best milkshakes either of you have ever had.

"how are we splitting the checks?" the older waitress asks, eyeing harry up and down. before you can say anything he tells her just one, handing her his card out of nowhere.

as she walks away you give him an evil look. "you don't always have to pay for everything, y'know? i'm perfectly capable of paying for myself or the both of us." you tease him. he smiles. "i know." he states simply.

you finish your milkshakes within minutes, handing your cherry to harry like you do every time. "cherry for harry," you always say. it always gets a smile out of him.

after a few minutes of chatting alone in the diner, the bell at the front door rings. you get a big smile across your face as you stand from the booth. "thomas?" you ask.

harry turns around to see a man in a quidditch uniform, his hair sweaty and book bag full to the brim. he's carrying his broomstick around, like a total tool if you ask harry, and gives you the cheekiest smile possible.

"[y/n]?" he asks.

harry could've killed him just for saying your name the way he did. like a predator hunting its prey again.

harry's anger immediately worsened when you practically jumped on this guy to give him a hug. nothing like the hug you gave harry in class today, he wants to note.

harry stood up, causing the guy to look at him. he had a scar as well, one from quidditch harry would assume. a slash across his left eye, healed but still somewhat recent.

you look back at harry as well, smiling at him. "harry, this is thomas." you introduce them.

yeah, he picked up on that. harry's face was red from anger.

he reluctantly steps forward, offering his hand to the douchebag who still kept a light hand on your shoulder. harry wanted to break his wrist when he went in for the handshake, but instead he offered a polite, "harry. nice to meet you."

the guy, thomas, gives a half smirk. "harry potter." he states matter-of-factly.

harry was sure his anger was visible at this point. it was enough that this guy was touching you and clearly had a past with you, but for him to pull the boy who lived card on him in front of you was enough to make his fists ball up.

"that's me." he says, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

there's an awkward moment of silence as harry continues to stare thomas down.

"so. how do you two know each other?" harry asks you, his tone and gaze softening just looking at you.

"oh! um…" you start nervously.

"we dated back in high school." thomas finishes for you.

of fucking course you did, harry thinks.

"yeah…for, like, 2 months…" you awkwardly laugh off, clearly not the most comfortable discussing this in front of harry.

thomas laughs with you as the waitress hands him a to-go box. "well, i'll see you guys around," he says as he hikes up his bookbag. "it was nice to see you again, [y/n]."

if looks could kill, this guy would've been dead long before he left out the door. harry knew he was visibly upset when you looked over at him.

"you okay harry?" you ask with a laugh.

he breaks, looking at you with a smile as he loosens his tight muscles. "sorry, i'm fine," he says.

as you both put your coats on to walk home, harry can't help but replay the interaction in his head. "dated…in high school…" "yeah…for, like, 2 months…"

harry's mind was swimming as you left the diner with him, walking into a light snow. "wow," you sigh, looking around you. harry looks up. it's beautiful out. the snow gives everything a light, soft look under the street lamps. he looks down at you and smiles at you admiring the scenery.

sometimes it scares harry how jealous he gets when it comes to you, and how quickly it can happen. that guy did nothing but say your name and give you a 2 second hug, and he actually dated you, so what right does harry have to get upset as just your friend? but all he can think about on the walk to your dorm is pummeling this guy's stupid face into the ground.

harry hadn't told you yet, but he had actually been going to the gym lately with all the time he had spent away from you during the busy school weeks. nothing too intense, he actually focused on boxing and lifting specifically because he wanted to be better prepared to protect you in case anything happened to you. and for self defense reasons, of course, but mainly for your benefit. he would do anything for you.

upon arriving at your dorm, you plop onto your mattress with a groan. "too much milkshake," you whine.

harry chuckles at you, shaking the snow out of his hair. "i told you not to get the large." he smirks. you frown at him, making him laugh again. "it's not funny! and you're wrong, i deserved a large after this month." you protest.

he laughs you off again, taking a peek at your alarm clock next to your bed. his eyes widen. "bloody hell, since when was it half past 11?" he asks astounded.

you laugh at his shock. "time flies when you're havin' fun,"

harry rubs his eyes. "if i don't leave now i won't get enough sleep to make it to my 9 a.m." he groans, not wanting his time with you to end yet again.

"nooo," you whine, clearly wanting the same. he gives you a sad look at your tone. "stay?" you ask.

harry's a bit taken aback. he hasn't stayed the night since the halloween party. thinking about that night for even a split second makes him break a sweat. it's his most replayed memory. he could even call it his sexual awakening at the ripe age of 19.

"stay? are you sure?" harry asks. you immediately nod your head, smiling at him. he can't say no to you, and he doesn't want to. he has no reason to leave, anything he needs is already here.

"well, if you insist." he smirks. you roll your eyes, taking off your jacket and hat and setting them in your closet. "i only insist because that snow is turning into a storm." you reply. you're not wrong, harry would've had to walk for 15 minutes through heavier and heavier snowfall, not to mention the windchill.

"well, thank you." he says. you smile back at him before reaching to take your shirt off. harry's seen you in multiple states of undress since the halloween party, so it's not uncommon for you to just change at any point during your conversations.

but that didn't make it any less pleasurable for harry.

sometimes he just sat back and watched like it was a personal show just for him. he would memorize the shape of your back and, shit, the curve of your ass. he watched as you pulled down your jeans, left in nothing but a bra and panties. he tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away for too long, your ass was just perfect to him.

before too long you unclasped the bra hooks behind your back and let the black fabric fall into the laundry. you slipped on a big t-shirt, your favorite thing to wear to bed, and harry caught just the slightest glimpse of your tits from behind you.

as you turned around, harry quickly began taking off his wet, snow covered converse to appear as though he wasn't just observing you like his own personal dirty magazine.

when he looked up, you were handing him some clothes to change into. he thanked you, grabbing them as he took off his jeans and sweatshirt. harry had also learned to be more comfortable changing around you, even if it wasn't as often.

harry put on the sweatpants and fresh pair of socks before realizing you hadn't given him a shirt. he looked over at you and you were already staring at him.

"harry, have you been working out?"

his face flushed, feeling exposed with just a pair of sweatpants on his hips. you were looking at his body with an expression of shock and amusement.

"u-um, yeah, a bit…just between classes, get some stress out." he's not entirely lying, but he could never tell you the real reason.

you smile at him, but a different smile than normal. you're almost…nervous? you've never been nervous around harry, even when you two first met.

"you look…good…" you say with a slight crack in your voice, still looking at him. harry can feel his blood pumping, and he knows that can only lead to an eventual erection, so he turns around casually pretending to fold his jeans. "oh, thanks," he tries to say casually.

he can still feel your eyes on him as he hangs his sweatshirt on your coat rack. "damn, harry. you're like…ripped." you say with genuine shock in your voice.

harry turns towards you, but you're fixated on his exposed torso. he nervously laughs, not sure how to respond. of course he thought getting stronger would mean his body would inevitably look better, but he cared more about his ability to fight off any creeps he needed to in order to keep you safe. however, he hadn't necessarily considered your reaction to his transformation. he had somewhat forgotten you also saw him change his clothes that halloween night. he thought you had forgotten too.

"i don't know about that," he laughs awkwardly.

you just giggle and look away, shaking your head. you climb into bed and invite him next to you. harry accepts and joins you beneath the covers, turning off a lamp beside him.

after a few moments of silence, harry could hear your shallow, even breaths indicating you're asleep. he looked down at you, peaceful, beautiful. he sat up as gently as possible and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, [y/n]."

it was finally your birthday.

harry had been planning this day for weeks. he made sure to ask you way ahead of schedule when you would be seeing family so he could time everything perfectly.

he had completely set up your room to look like a birthday party for a kid. balloons, streamers, a birthday cake and ice cream, presents, even fun plates and napkins.

you should be coming home from going out to eat with your parents for brunch in about 10 minutes. harry made sure to call you before you left early in the morning to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.

as he was waiting for you to arrive, he made sure everything was perfect, down to the last balloon. he had put your favorite cd on and even lit a candle. he's not quite sure why, he just felt like it was right.

soon enough, he could hear your keys on the other side of your door letting yourself in, so harry positioned himself beside your bed and waited eagerly for the reaction he'd been thinking about for months.

when you open the door, you're a bit startled to see him at first. "surprise!" he says with a suppressed smile, trying to contain his excitement.

your eyes slowly examine the room, your jaw dropping as you bring a hand to your heart. "harry…" you choke out in a small voice, still noticing different details around you as the door closes behind you.

"happy birthday." he says lovingly, taking in every second of your realization.

"you…how did you…" you can't even get the words out as you set down your purse and coat on your bed next to your presents from harry.

"i've been planning this for weeks. i wanted to give you the birthday you never had." he tells you.

you look at him with tears in your eyes, quickly looking away and towards your dresser. "you got me a cake…" you say tearfully, walking up to the custom cake he had placed an order for an entire week ago.

"we also have reservations for the diner at 5. if you'd join me, of course." harry smirks. you chuckle at him, jumping in his arms and enveloping him in a hug. "thank you…" you begin to cry into his shoulder.

harry holds you tight, dazed from your scent and enjoying the softness of your hair. he rubs your back softly as you get the tears out, letting you know it's okay.

you pull away, wiping your tears as you laugh at yourself. "sorry, i just…this is so amazing of you harry."

"don't be sorry. i'm glad you love it." he reassures you, making you smile. "let's have some cake, hm?"

after some cake and ice cream as well as messing with the balloons and party favors, it was time for harry's favorite part. the presents.

he sat you both down on your bed and savored each reaction you had to each present. every thank you was followed by, "how did you know i wanted this?" "how much was this?" "how did you get this?"

harry had his ways. and again, he would do anything for you.

his last present for you, though, was the most important. he kept it beside him until the very end, handing it to you with a shy smile. you lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful necklace, one he saw you looking at multiple times while out shopping with you.

you were speechless. you looked at harry with the most genuine expression of shock, gratitude, and confusion. "harry…" you gasp. "you got this for me?" you ask.

harry chuckles. "do you like it?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"harry…you really shouldn't have…" you tell him, staring at the necklace in your lap. he smiles even bigger, the look on your face was already enough to convince him it was worth it. it was all worth it. "here, i'll put it on you."

you hand harry the necklace, turning and scooting towards him as you hold your hair to the side for him. he's immediately reminded of the night he helped you take your bra off.

he clasps the necklace together and you turn towards him, looking down at it with him. "wow, it looks great." he says with a smile.

you look up at him, your faces nearly touching. harry can barely process your beauty before you lean in for a soft kiss against his lips.

harry's completely frozen, not knowing what to do or what's even happening.

when you pull back, harry can barely breathe.

you look up at him, your eyes soft and eager. harry can't hold himself back anymore. you've kissed him first, that's all the permission he needs for now.

he lightly grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a bigger, deeper kiss. soon enough, you're making out with harry in your bed.

he's a bit rusty when it comes to kissing, but he plays it safe with you and keeps it soft and light. your hands have traveled to harry's neck and hair, pulling him closer to you.

after a minute or so, harry pulls away. "i love you, [y/n]." he admits. he just couldn't keep it in for much longer.

your eyes light up, a shy smile on your lips as you read his expression. "oh, harry. i love you, too." you reply breathlessly.

the kissing becomes more and more heated as you eventually push harry back onto your pillows. he's surprised, and completely aroused, trying to ignore his growing erection from simply kissing you.

you climb on top of him, the visual making harry sweat already. as you lean in to continue the kiss, your legs end up on either side of him, straddling his torso.

harry is at a loss. he never imagined his birthday surprise for you would end like this. did you really mean you loved him? like, loved loved him?

his hands went to your hips, savoring the feeling of your weight on top of him, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. eventually, he can feel your hips slowly rock back and forth on his lap.

he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you above him with wonder. it was everything he could've imagined. even better than the constant fantasies he had of you.

"is this okay?" you ask him softly, searching his eyes, grinding your hips into his a bit slower than before.

harry looks at you incredulously. "[y/n], this is all i've wanted for so long. please. use me." the desperation in his voice surprises him, he knew he wanted you this bad but he couldn't believe how quickly you had him begging.

you practically moaned at his desperate request. "fuck," you whisper as you go in for another kiss.

harry guides your hips into his, and he's sure you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. you're softly moaning into the kiss, stopping to catch your breath every so often as harry slightly thrusts his hips into you, desperate for more.

"oh, harry…" you moan, causing his eyes to roll in ecstasy. for so long he imagined how you'd sound moaning his name just for him, and he's more than happy with the real thing.

"you're so beautiful, darling," harry says, reaching for your flushed cheek.

you whimper at his voice, tangling a hand in his hair. "tell me again." you demand him.

shit. harry could seriously cum just from that. he's doing everything he can to keep this going as long as possible, but he's not sure how much longer he'll last under you.

"beautiful. so, so beautiful." he says between heavy breaths, watching your incredible body grind onto him for pleasure. "you have no idea how badly i've needed you," he looks back into your eyes, half shut with pleasure as you continue to blush.

"touch me." you tell him, putting your hair behind your shoulders. he looks up at you slowly moving up and down on his lap. he could watch you do this for hours. a dream come true.

one hand slowly makes its way towards your tits, massaging one through your clothes. harry's head rolls back in pleasure, hardly believing this was his real life. involuntary moans slip through his lips as you continue to dry hump him.

"fuck, harry…" you whimper, kissing him again. he can feel the necklace he got you against his hand as he continue to feel your tits. everything about this was perfect. as far as he was concerned, right now, in this moment, you were his and only his.

"i-i…i think i'm gonna cum…" you tell him between kissing. his hands grip you tighter, all he wants to do is please you, be the reason for your ecstasy.

"please, [y/n], please cum for me," he begs of you, feeling his own body tipping over the edge. you look him in the eyes, your hand on his cheek as your breathing gets more rapid and uneven.

you're whimpering, desperately grinding for relief on harry's jeans as he feels himself about to cum. "harry, please…" you beg.

harry slightly thrusts into you, meeting your rhythm as he pulls you closer to him. you begin to shake in his grip, your eyes and jaw going lax as your whimpers become breathless. your hand finds one of his and interlocks your fingers together. you squeeze his hand as you ride out your high. he's completely enthralled with your face and body's reaction to him. he could be here forever, letting you use his body for pleasure, and he would hurt anyone who tried to stop him.

as you start to come down from your climax, harry gently pulls you in for a weak kiss. you crawl beside him, hiding your face in his chest as you continue to catch your breath.

"that was…so hot…" you manage to say between breaths. harry laughs softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on your head. "you're amazing." is all he can say.

"so…did you…?" you shyly start to ask. "yes. i came in my pants." harry admits, hiding his face in your hair. you can't help but laugh a bit, looking down at his jeans. he looks down and sees a dark spot near the zipper.

"oh." you say, clearly amused. "how couldn't i? i had the most beautiful woman in the world orgasming on my lap." harry smirks.

you hide your face in his chest again, giggling. you look up at him with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and sore lips in a small smile. "i really do love you, harry," you speak softly.

"i love you too, [y/n]."

it's the day after christmas, and you and harry had spent the holiday with your family. he loved your parents, and got on well with your siblings. he had even rented a room at a local inn near the area for you two to stay in. a private place to escape the chaos and have some alone time.

you and harry were practically all over each other all the time at this point. he couldn't help himself, all he ever wanted was to kiss you and now he could, whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that.

it was your last day at the inn, a cozy cottage type place with the softest beds you've ever slept in, and harry paid for all of it before you even knew about it. "merry christmas," he had told you.

you were eating your complimentary breakfasts together in silence, across from each other at the little table in the corner of the room.

"thank you, again, harry. this was a wonderful idea." you said as you finished your orange juice, admiring the snowfall out of the window. "it's so beautiful here."

"you're beautiful."

you give harry a look, but crack a smile. "and you're cheesy."

harry chuckles, admiring you like he always does. his soft eyes and kind smile give you butterflies.

as you're packing your clothes to get ready to leave, harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. you smile, giggling, continuing to pack your suitcase. his lips end up on your neck, but you ignore him as you put your panties inside the bag.

harry laughs to himself. you look over at him. "what?" you ask with a smile. he's blushing, shaking his head. "nothing, nothing." he continues to laugh.

"tell me," you say. he shakes his head again. "no, its…it's weird." he says. you can hear a bit of shame in his voice as he hides his face in your neck again. "harry, tell me. please?"

he can't resist when you ask nicely.

he sighs, taking a step away from you and sitting on the bed next to your suitcase. "well…" he starts, rubbing his face nervously. "um, after the halloween party…" he trails off.

"yes…?" you ask, amused at his shy demeanor.

"u-uh, the morning after, when you took a shower…" harry recalls, shifting his weight. "i may have, um…stolen your underwear you took off in front of me…." he cringes at his words, turning his head away from you.

"i knew it!" you declared, pushing his shoulder.

harry covered his face completely, feeling like he could burst into tears at any moment from the embarrassment.

"god, that's so bloody hot, harry," you practically moan, pushing his arms to the side and sitting in his lap. he's completely red in the face, bewildered by your reaction.

"wh…what?" he asks breathlessly.

you hold his face in your hands, admiring his shy expression as you sink into him. "you don't find that weird? or creepy? or extremely perverted?" harry asks you incredulously.

you giggle at him, your eyes full of love. "yes, harry, stealing my used panties behind my back is very perverted. if you did that to any other girl they may find it really disturbing." harry's heart drops, his eyes focused on you completely. "but, i like you. i've really liked you for a long time. and…i find it so fucking hot just how desperate you were for me…"

harry's heart is immediately pumping at your words. you wrap your arms around his neck as you force a kiss on him, his hands grabbing your waist with a hunger.

after a moment he pulls back, nervously blinking and clearing his throat. "um, that's not all, though," he says regretfully. you give him a curious look. "i might've, um…used the panties to masturbate…" he admits.

you smile at his nervousness, biting your lip and giving him a desperate look. "oh, harry, tell me what it was like…" you moan as you begin kissing his neck.

harry's voice is caught, his head rolling back in pure bliss. sometimes he still can't believe this is real life.

you continue to bite at his neck, leaving marks as harry tries to find the words. "i, um…" his hand travels to your ass. "well, i smelled them first…" you moan against his skin, your legs tightening around him. "go on…" you say with a smile.

harry's trying to focus on the story without getting distracted by your lips. "they smelled so good, and you almost caught me, so i put them in my pocket," harry fights back a moan.

"so naughty," you tease him, pushing him onto his back. "tell me more." you demand.

harry nervously swallows at the sight of you above him. you hadn't done anything since your birthday just a few days previous, but it was all harry could think about. he missed the feeling of you being above him, using him, telling him what to do.

"when i got home, i immediately started jerking off thinking about undressing you, seeing your tits for the first time, smelling your panties, i felt so dirty because you told me i was such a gentleman that night…" harry rambles. something about revealing his perverted obsession with you as you're on his lap makes his erection harden.

he grabs for your thighs, sighing at how heavenly they feel in his hands. "then, i just…wrapped your panties around my dick…and i came on them, almost instantly…" harry reveals, the embarrassment fueling his lust.

you're practically aching for harry listening to his story, watching him become desperate for you once again. he's falling apart in your hands and you just can't get enough of it.

"god, harry, that's so hot…you were so obsessed with me…" you say as you lean into his lips, your bodies entangled on the bed.

harry pulls away, holding your face in his hands gently. "i still am, [y/n]." he says sincerely, admiring your eyes. "so, so obsessed…you have no idea…"

you gaze longingly at him, melting his heart. after a moment you kiss him passionately, savoring his eagerness.

"well…would you like these panties too?" you ask with a smirk, putting his hand on your ass. he looks up at you with begging eyes. "please," he says so softly.

soon you're sat on the edge of the bed, harry pulling down your pants with the fireplace lit behind him. he's looking at you so tenderly, taking in every part of you, constantly reminding you how much he loves you, and how beautiful you are.

you open your legs for him as he kneels in front of you, his eyes fluttering from your face to your panties, which are undoubtedly wet from hearing harry's perverted stories.

his mouth is watering just looking at you.

he gently kisses your thighs, higher and higher until he reaches your panties, taking a moment to look back up at you. you're intently watching him, a blush spreading across your face. you look so pretty from here, a view he's daydreamed about plenty of times.

he buries his face in your smell, moaning, taking you in completely, eyes drooping shut as he feels complete bliss overcome him.

you whimper at his reaction, a hand reaching for his hair as he comes back to earth. he reaches for your panties when he pauses, looking up at you shyly.

"i-i've never done this before." he admits.

you giggle at him lovingly. "i know, harry. it's okay. i haven't either." you reassure him, reaching for his glasses and setting them beside you. he smiles shyly and lays his head on your thigh, letting your hand tangle itself in his hair, memorizing this angle of you.

"just enjoy yourself."

harry blushes at that sentiment. he was enjoying himself no matter what, with you he was always happy, especially in moments like this.

but harry more than enjoyed himself. he had always fantasized what it would be like to eat your pussy, your hand in his hair as you ride his face and cum in his mouth. what he didn't expect was just how intimate it felt with you, the soft whimpers that escaped your mouth, having your legs rest on his shoulders, practically making out with your pussy while you writhe with pleasure beneath his hands.

you were both a bit unsure at first, awkward smiles and laughs and reassuring touches, before harry eventually lost himself in the act. he paid close attention to your reactions, your facial expressions, trying to figure out the best way to pleasure you. he loved feeling you get more and more wet for him by the minute, he couldn't get enough of you.

harry didn't want to stop. cumming once wasn't enough for him. he ignored your begging for him to wait, please, it's too much, holding your hands down with his own as he continued for several more minutes. he had waited so long to finally do this for you, showing you just how badly he wanted you. his dick was aching from how hard it was. this was easily the most turned on he'd been for you so far, watching and hearing you orgasm because of him, on his face, he was convinced there was nothing more enjoyable or desirable than this.

"harry, god damn it…" you sighed. he stayed between your legs in the same position, leaving loving and longing kisses on your thighs and stomach, enjoying the aftershocks your body was having in response to him, looking at you with hunger in his eyes.

"yes?" he asks innocently, still admiring your delicious pussy. "harry, i can barely move…" you whine, your body aching and sore. harry smiles devilishly at your weakness, loving the effect he's come to have on you.

he kisses up your body, leaving a desperate kiss on your lips as you taste yourself on him.

"that was even better than i ever imagined it could be," harry practically growls. you giggle at him, your eyes tired and lips bitten.

you look down at harry and see his throbbing erection through his pants. you look back at him, and offer to return the favor.

"oh, honey, you don't have to, you should rest…" harry insists, stroking your hair out of your face. but you're not backing down, and you at least convince him to let you help him out.

he lays next to you on the bed, shirt and pants off as you start feeling his dick through his briefs. harry's instantly desperate under your touch, realizing just how long he's waited for this moment, no longer having to imagine his own hand as yours.

"[y/n]..." harry moans, his eyes filled with lust as he looks over at you. you. blushing, beautiful, natural you. "i swear i could cum just looking at you."

you giggle at harry again, blushing into his chest as your hand continues to stroke him. you look back up at him innocently, admiring the look of desperation he couldn't hide. reaching for a kiss, harry moans softly into your mouth, his dick twitching in your hand.

"oh god…" harry whines, his head falling back in pleasure. you can tell he's close, just from light touching and barely any kissing. you can't help but giggle at his state, loving the control you have over him.

"go ahead, baby, cum for me," you whisper seductively.

that's all it takes for harry.

trying his best to keep his eyes on you, he comes completely undone under your touch. his breathing becomes completely ragged, breathy whimpers, vaguely trying to say your name the longer you stroked him. similar to how he kept going with you, you didn't back down. he begged you to stop, but you could tell he didn't really want you to stop any time soon. you kiss him to quiet his begging, continuing to overstimulate him until he came for a second time, ruining his briefs for good.

after cleaning yourselves up, harry gives you the longest, warmest, most loving hug you've ever received in your life. you bury your head in his chest, taking in the feeling and smell of his skin. his, now muscular, arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you like harry had nothing left in this world but you.

"i love you, so much, and i'm so thankful for you." harry says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

you hug him even tighter. "i love you, harry,"

————————————————————

by the time next semester starts, you and harry are full-blown boyfriend and girlfriend, constantly holding hands wherever you two go and seeing each other off to your classes or study sessions. people talked amongst themselves about the harry potter having a girlfriend, but you both paid no mind.

being with you has really made harry come out of his shell. by the time spring sports roll around, harry feels confident enough to try out for the university's quidditch team. with your support, of course.

it was never a question that he'd make the team, he instantly became their new seeker and brought the school out of their losing streak. through this, harry also made tons of friends, real friends, who wanted to get to know him outside of being harry potter.

not to mention that you had become his number one fan, showing up to every game and most practices to cheer on your best friend and help him strategize for future games.

in every aspect, harry's life completely changed for the better. he loved his classes, he loved his team, and above all else, he loved you, and felt like he owed everything he had to you.

the only thing that bothered harry anymore was that jerk you dated and introduced him to at the diner, thomas.

thomas hadn't made the quidditch team this season, and he made it very clear that he blamed harry for that. he tried spreading a rumor that harry paid his way in, but people didn't buy it after seeing just how well harry played every game.

but that's not what bothered harry. what bothered him was the way thomas used you to get to him.

everyone knew you and harry were dating. it was the topic of conversation on campus for nearly a week when everyone found out. so why is it that every time thomas talked to you when he saw you alone you had to remind him that no, you can't hang out sometime soon, you have a boyfriend now? to harry it felt personal, and he didn't like it.

it was one of the most important quidditch matches of the season, it determined the university's qualification for finals. harry was on top of his game, especially seeing you cheering for him in the stands, and won the match easily, being celebrated by his team on the field.

after taking a few photos and congratulating the rest of the players, harry eagerly runs to meet you at your usual spot just beside the stands to get his usual post-win kiss.

what he finds instead makes him see red.

thomas. he has you completely backed up to the stands, a clearly heated conversation going on between you two. harry can tell you're pissed just by looking at you, speaking with your hands and trying to walk away but being stopped by thomas each time. finally you push him away, and he grabs you.

that's all harry needs to see before he begins sprinting towards him, his mind racing a million miles an hour and yet completely blank at the same time.

you had managed to push thomas off of you, now yelling at him to get the fuck away from you before you rock his shit.

before you can even try, harry tackles thomas to the ground and begins rocking his shit for you.

you gasped. "harry! stop!" you tell him, not wanting him to get caught and punished. but harry doesn't stop. you've never seen this anger from him. it's like he can't stop, not showing any signs of fatigue or resistance.

"harry! stop!" you yell at him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him away. harry stops punching thomas, only to stand above him and kick him in the stomach. "harry." you warn him, giving him a concerned look. "stop. you'll get expelled." you tell him in a hushed tone.

harry looks at you, softening, coming back to earth as you motion for him to just walk away with you. harry looks down at thomas, a bleeding mess in the dirt, crying in the fetal position.

harry kneels next to thomas, making him flinch. harry points his wand at him and mutters quickly, "episkey."

thomas's nose fixes itself, his cuts heal, and his stomach bruise lightens. he looks at harry incredulously, feeling no physical pain, but in fear of the threat harry posed.

"don't ever fucking touch her again. do you understand? next time i won't be so nice." harry growls. thomas quickly nods his head, desperate to leave. harry stands up, sneering at him still in the dirt. "and don't talk to me either while you're at it." you add at the end, your voice just as intimidating as harry's. "got that?" harry asks sarcastically. thomas nods again, standing up and running away from harry.

as he turns to you, you notice his bloody nose, multiple cuts from the game, and bruised knuckles. "oh, harry," you coo sympathetically, grabbing his hands and examining them. "come on. let's go home."

and by home, you meant to your house. the university had upgraded your room and board in exchange for you to work for them as a professor's assistant in potions. it was a small cottage just outside of campus, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it was enough for you and harry.

walking into your living room, you send harry to the bathroom as you lock the door behind you and drop your stuff off on the dining table. you grab a rag from the kitchen and get it wet with warm water.

you enter the bathroom to see a shirtless harry already attempting to clean a wound on his chest. you can see his reflection in the mirror and are completely infatuated with his focused, bloody face concentrated on his reflection as he tends to his injury.

you come up behind him, barely able to rest your chin on his tall, broad shoulders. his reflection instantly softens, his muscles relaxing.

you turn him around, cleaning the wounds on his chest, arms, and hands. his knuckles were bruised, nothing a spell couldn't fix. "you're lucky you didn't break anything." you remind him.

he watches you so intently. your gentle, caring touch bringing him instant relief. even now, all these months later, you still mesmerize him every day. he's not sure he'll ever get used to having you for himself. but that's just what you were, for himself.

"i wanted to kill him. i would've killed him." harry reminds you, rubbing his knuckles. "sit, please," you ask quietly, pulling him over to the closed toilet. harry sits down, letting out a groan as his entire body aches from quidditch and nearly killing someone.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark and angry again just thinking about it before softening at you. you bring the rag to his face, wiping away blood and dirt from his scars. a tense silence falls between you two. harry can't tell if you're angry at him for what he did. he has no idea why, that thomas kid was dead meat as soon as he decided to touch you.

as you carefully finish cleaning the last of the dirt off harry's face, you notice how tenderly he's watching you. you sigh, holding his face in your hands.

"i'm not mad at you." you say. he swears you can read him like a book.

"but, you could've gotten in serious trouble. or hurt yourself. i just don't want to be the reason you're down." you explain, rubbing a thumb along his cheek.

"i would do anything for you." he reminds you, his hand finding yours.

you smile warmly at him. you can't stay upset with him for very long.

"then do this for me: stay out of trouble."

harry smiles. no promises.

as you're getting ready for bed, harry walks in from his shower in just a pair of shorts. you walk up to him, running your hands along his torso to make sure his scars are sufficiently clean. and to just admire your boyfriend in general.

harry revealed to you some time back his real reason for working out. you found it sweet, but a bit silly, as you could handle yourself perfectly well. however, tonight, harry proved you wrong. though you were never in immediate danger or physical harm, as far as you knew, it still felt really nice to know he had your back when things got scary.

while working out definitely helped his strength, quidditch is what really made his body so exceptional.

he was perfectly toned, incredibly strong, and more buff than he ever had been his entire life. you were never someone to have a thing for muscular guys, but something about watching harry's body get better and better with time just drove you crazy.

"you know," you start off, resting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heart racing. all this time later and he's still such a nervous wreck for you.

"i may not approve of it, but…i can't deny how fucking sexy you looked beating thomas up for me,"

harry could feel his blood boil just from you mentioning that douchebag's name, but he was somewhat distracted by your observation.

"oh, really?" he smirks, grabbing your waist possessively. you instantly have goosebumps, leaning into harry's tight grip. "mhm. i haven't stopped thinking about it…you in your quidditch uniform, your muscles, the anger in your voice…" you practically swoon for him.

harry blushes, but takes advantage of the situation. "i was seeing red." he recalls. "i was seriously going to fucking kill that loser for even thinking he could touch my girl."

you're instantly turned on by his fierce protectiveness. normally you find harry's jealousy funny, since he has no reason to ever worry about you, but tonight it made you see a completely different side of him…

harry was always so soft and careful with you, and was a normally mild-tempered person with everyone. the only time he really got upset was if someone was getting too comfortable with you too quickly. to see him completely lose his cool, to watch him unleash onto this guy who thought he could just grab you…

you were just so, so attracted to him right now.

"yes, your girl, all yours," you reassure him as you lean in for a kiss. he quickly takes control and brings you to your bed, laying you down with haste. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between sloppy kisses.

the lingering anger within harry needs to be released, immediately.

he quickly undresses you, a complete 180 of the old harry who was afraid to help you take off your bra. he practically rips your panties in half trying to get them off of you.

you're already soaking wet from his aggression. he smirks at you. "guess i should get angry more, yeah?" harry teases.

you blush, but you wouldn't exactly be against it.

as harry slowly begins thrusting into you, he feels that familiar bliss overcome him like it does every time he's inside of you.

you and harry have had sex a couple times before, mostly slow and passionate with lots of kissing, enjoying each other's bodies and intimacy.

but this time, harry was hungry for you.

not to say he never is. he might always be hungry for you, quite literally. but this time, he lets the hunger consume him.

harry's thrusts become less careful and more desperate, he leaves dark, aching bites all over your chest, marking what's his. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between each bite.

you're in a state of pure ecstasy. you didn't know harry could be so rough with you. his desperation usually came in the form of shy begging, whimpering, and a desire to please. but this kind of desperation was aggressive, jealous, and aimed to please himself. you didn't mind, you thought it was bloody hot. you also wanted to help harry get his anger out, and you were the perfect way to do that.

as his thrusts become more possessive and sloppy, his arms rest on either side of you, the sight above you enough to make your orgasm accelerate. a sweaty, tired, aching harry, desperate to prove something to you, looking at you like you're the first meal he's had in years. his muscles flexing, veins popping out, and his breathing becomes labored.

he can feel you tightening around him and quickened his pace. "harry, harry, i'm cumming," you warn him, whining, desperate for a release.

"that's right, cum for me, baby." he groans in your ear, wrapping his arms around you as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.

watching you fall apart under him is enough to send him over the edge himself. his head is buried in your neck as he breathes heavily, moaning your name in your own ear.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum inside you, baby. can you let me do that?" harry asks you, his sweaty face desperate for your approval. you nod quickly, eager to be his release in anyway you can.

"can you take it? can you be a good girl for me?" harry loves to dirty talk, and this is the hottest it's been yet.

"please, harry, please give it to me, please, please, i need you," you beg harry, grabbing his shoulders, feeling your body prepare for its second orgasm.

"take it, baby, take it, god, you feel so good," he groans into your ear, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you.

your body convulses from the feeling and watching harry melt into you. his face is relieved of all anger, his eyes soft and full of love for you as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss.

he steps back, watching his cum drip out of you, and could easily get turned on again just by the sight of you right now. but he's too tired, and he knows he has lots of time with you to do it all over again.

after cleaning up and crawling into bed, harry holds you against his chest. you're asleep in no time, steady breaths and slight snores coming from your peaceful expression. harry wraps his arm around you before leaving a kiss on top of your head.

"i love you, [y/n]. goodnight."

————————————————————

[if you actually read through all of this, i salute you. if you actually enjoyed it, pls let me know. i definitely want to post more like this in the future so i always appreciate any feedback <3 thank you!!! happy new year btw lol]

4K notes · View notes

iiannabxth · 8 months ago

Text

class of 09 girls + their aesthetics bc i’m tired of people not getting them.

(minor tw for sh & ed):

jecka: she’s literally a preppy, trendy 2000s teen. she wears lacoste/abercrombie polo shirts, hollister skinny jeans, american eagle, bebe jackets, and juicy couture. a lot of her clothes come from her mom’s job, as apparently her mom gets them for free.

she is a “pharma-princess” and openly idolizes paris hilton. she smokes cigarettes and casually abuses painkillers. she may be a little trashy, but she dresses like any other fashionable girl from that era.

nicole: for starters, shes lower middle class. her mom buys the cheapest internet and cable packages, as well as having nicole on the assisted lunch plan. with that being said, she’s not buying a ton of miss me jeans, bb belts, or affliction shirts. shes a hot topic/spencers fiend bc she can steal it. her outfits are usually a hoodie, tank top, or t-shirt with ripped skinny jeans- which is to say they aren’t very complicated. i think people get confused and try and dress her in the modern “y2k” fashion, but it doesn’t really work for her.

shes severely depressed and winning the idagf war, which is shown in her makeup and nails. i think her makeup routine is very messy and smudged, but thats lowkey the look.

emily: shes rich, but she doesn’t care or acknowledge it. she can buy whatever she wants, but chooses to go for the grungey/emo look. even though she’s the most “scene” character, she still follows a few trends- ex: the lifeguard hoodie. her hair is definitely damaged by the box bleach she uses and the excessive use of her straightener. i also think she 100% has raccoon eyes (in the avril lavigne-way.)

she parties with her sketchy boyfriends, day drinks, and does almost any drug she can get her hands on. she’s suicidal and highkey crazy, which results in her tattoos and scars. (the excessive SH-culture is completely on brand for the 2000s.)

ari: borderline manic pixie dream girl going through a sexuality crisis. she’s almost emo, but not quite. she wears winged eyeliner and red lipgloss. her wardrobe consists of mostly graphic tee shirts and skinny + bootcut jeans. she dyes her hair because “no one understands her,” but she still has a decent relationship with her parents.

she used to be a girl scout, so she definitely cuts her own hair and thinks it’s rebellious. i think her favorite shoe would be black high top converse.

kelly: is the definition of a trendy, trashy, 2000s girl. kelly is also rich (as stated by jecka.) she’s popular with the boys because she’s pretty, has big boobs, and dtf. she wears a lot of hollister, wet seal, juicy couture, and victoria secret. i think she would wear a full face of makeup to school. her hair is dyed blonde but she keeps the roots grown out just a little.

megan: 2000s THEATRE KID!! she’s ARTSY, not EMO. she’s apparently pretty, but not pretty enough to be constantly hit on. she wears a lot of media/pop culture clothing and jeans. (if she were in the 2010s, she would wear those hot topic disney dresses.) her hair color is her natural hair color and her nail polish is always chipped.

jecka & hunter say she’s a christian girlie, so most of her outfits are more modest and toned down compared to some of the other girls. she probably wears minimal makeup unless she’s doing a show.

karen: she’s dorky and nerdy to the extreme. she looks very mousy and homely. she likes twilight and harry potter + she works at a library (and is strict about the rules.) karen likes and is good at school. she probably only wears mascara and medicated chapstick + her glasses. she has a messy bob that she never styles.

she’s also insecure about her body, as jecka and nicole make her relapse on her ED, so she wears baggier clothing than any of the other characters.

i think she would wear sketchers and jeggings.

anywho, i like this game and im also super into the genuine 2000s fashion, so a part of me dies whenever i see someone say “nicole listens to ayesha erotica!!” or “jecka wears affliction and bb belts!” girl bffr.

#nicole class of 09 #jecka class of 09 #class of 09 #co09 jecka #jecka #nicole #co09 #co09 emily #co09 ari #co09 kelly #co09 megan #co09 karen #class of 09 megan #class of 09 karen #class of 09 emily #class of 09 nicole #aesthetic #2000s #2000s fashion

1K notes · View notes

solarismoons · 3 months ago

Text

Astronomy (Prologue)

‘It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart’

Wally Clark x fem!reader

Summary: After suffering a near-fatal fall off the school roof, you started seeing things that weren’t actually there. Or- people who weren’t actually there.

Warnings: mentions of suicide, addiction, drugs, lots of angst.

next chap.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Your legs dangled off the roof, the moon's dim light illuminating the grass below. Tears filled your waterline and your eyebrows pulled together. Silent sobs filled the night air, getting lost in the whispers of the wind.

There was no sugarcoating it, no easy way to say it–Your life fucking sucked. Drugged out Dad, your Mom out of the picture, the whole nine yards. If your life were a shitty low-budget movie, you and Nicole would’ve laughed at the lazy plot of it all.

Nicole.

The poison of her name ran through your veins and tore a hole through your heart. You’d grown up with her, she was there through your worst moments, and you were there for hers. But when you hit middle school, it wasn’t you and her against the world. It was always Maddie.

Maddie. Maddie. Maddie.

You truly had nothing against her. You had nothing against her, or Simon, or even Xavier of all fucking people. But everything in the past few years was always about her. The two of you were simply friends by extension. Two separate people pushed into the same friend group. But still, it seemed like the whole world revolved around her.

Nicole always had an obsession with Maddie. What she ate, what she wore, how she decorated her locker…Down to how she fucking spoke. Nicole copied every. Single. Part of her. You never knew if she wanted her, or if she wanted to be her. Whatever it was, it drew you two apart. You slowly started losing your best friend.

The pain and loneliness was beginning to be too much. You felt so suffocatingly alone, the only person you could confide in being lost in a la-la land of infatuation.

So, you found yourself on top of the school roof at 2 in the morning. It wasn’t high enough to die. Maybe high enough to make you hurt. High enough so someone would actually care for you. The thought of jumping crossed your mind- just for a split second. It was a fleeting thought, soaring quickly through your head like a turbojet.

Tears began to spill harder, gushing out of your eyes like a fountain. Your sobs became louder. You grounded the meat of your palms into your eyes, desperate to stop the tsunami from streaming down your face.

Behind you, words faded in and out of the breeze, and heavy whispers echoed across the silent roof.

“Is… she…”

“I….do- know…”

It was bits and pieces of phrases you shouldn’t have been hearing. Phrases that broke through the barrier of life and death itself. You didn’t know it at the time, though. Still, you whipped your head around, your lip quivering just slightly. Shadows faded in and out across the roof, the air seemingly moving in the wrong direction.

Your sobbing quickly died down, and you squinted, your head beginning to swim with confusion. The shadows shifted in and out of reality, almost. You would not have noticed them if you hadn’t been looking so meticulously.

The phantom-like whispers snuck closer as if reaching out for you. Your heart began to pick up speed, beating against your chest painfully. Breath hitching in your throat, you hastily stood up. Palms slick with sweat, goosebumps bursting across your skin, legs trembling, you yelled out, begging them to stop.

You couldn’t comprehend the gravity of your situation, couldn’t comprehend what the hell you were seeing. You took a step back, your heel hooking on the lip of the roof. Gravity took control, yanking you down over the edge.

The last thing you saw was a large hand stretching out towards you.

────────────

Wally loomed over you, his head tilted. Eyebrows knitted together with concern, he glanced over to Rhonda and Charley, who seemed oddly standoffish.

“Is… Is she okay?” He questioned.

Rhonda rolled her cherry lollipop against her cheek, “I don’t know Moose, maybe she’s just sleeping?”

Wally narrowed his eyes at her. Why couldn't she understand the urgency of the situation? Here was a girl, lying half-dead on school property with a puddle of blood pooling beneath her head.

“What if she dies?” Wally slid his hands into his pockets, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth sunk into the plush skin.

Charley frowned, wringing his hands together. “I mean… We can’t really do anything, Wally,” He reasoned. Wally knew he was right. If you died, you died. He couldn’t stop it. But it didn’t stop him from feeling any less awful. He felt… Drawn to you–in some incomprehensible way.

The group whipped their heads back down to you when you stirred. A soft groan escaped your lips. They watched with bated breath as you brought a shaky hand to the back of your head. You pulled your fingers back to your eye line, your pupils dilating at the smear of crimson.

The back of your skull throbbed with a searing, blinding pain that drew out another groan. You scrunched your eyelids together, fuzzy dots crowding your vision. At the same time, Wally crouched down next to you, fingers sprawled out on the soft grass.

Soft earth rustled beneath the soles of Rhonda’s boots as she turned on her heel. Charley glanced at you, then at Wally, then back at Rhonda. Confliction flashed across his soft features. As bad as he felt, there was nothing he could physically do.

“We should probably go,” Charley grumbled.

Still, Wally looked back down at you. He brought his fingers a feather’s touch away from your jaw before drawing them back. As much as he wanted to reach out to you, to help you, he couldn’t. He sat back on his haunches and took one last look at your pretty face.

Charley and Rhonda were halfway across the field when your eyes slowly cracked open. Wally’s eyes widened as you looked at him. Your eyes didn’t look through him. They looked at him. Your gaze pierced through the noise of the wind around you. It locked onto him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t possible. You were living. Breathing. Your soul was still tied to the land of the living. You still had a fucking pulse, a heartbeat.

“What the fuck…” He whispered.

You don’t remember what happened next. Only that you scrambled up, despite the agony in your head and the strain in your bones, and found yourself at home just minutes later, shoes caked in mud.

You don’t know what the fuck you thought you saw. It was a hallucination. Your brain had conjured his image up, projected him in front of you. You fell off the roof, for fucks sake.

Still, your eyes glided over to a picture on the wall of your living room. In it, stood your dad and his high school best friend--Who died 40 years ago.

#school spirits #milo manheim #wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fanfiction #school spirits fanfiction #milo manheim fanfiction #fem!reader #fanfic #split river high #astronomy

458 notes · View notes

cherrygirlfriend · 2 months ago

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dancing under streetlights

pairing: lottie x bsf!reader synopsis: lottie kisses reader for the first time and proceeds to ignore her afterwards. warnings/tags: minimal angst, fluff!! a/n; part of my 2k celebration!! i decided for this to take place a bit after the crash took place, around when they found the lake.

lottie masterlist ♡ 2k masterlist

lottie swam in the lake while you were watching the girl watch the other girls play around, similar wide smiles on all their faces, meanwhile you couldn't help but purse your lips, slightly puzzled by the whole situation.

she'd ignored you ever since the night of the party, the day before you were supposed to leave for nationals. you two had been walking home arm-in-arm, having lived near each other for most of your lives, both of you slightly buzzed as you walked down the same streets you could remember racing down on your bikes when you were younger.

you grinned, turning to her, "last one at the next streetlight is-"

but before you could even finish your sentence, lottie had already taken off running towards the next patch of yellow illuminating the concrete you'd both scratched your knees bloody on about a hundred times. you ran after her, screaming about how she was being unfair.

lottie, obviously, reached the light first, laughing as you ran towards her "careful!" she screamed when you practically rammed into her, catching you by your shoulders and laughing, "are you a bull, now?"

"it's not my fault you were baiting me. bulls hate that." the two of you laughed, and when an old memory came back to your mind, you took her hand into yours and raised your intertwined fingers into the air. "remember this?"

lottie rolled her eyes, but spun herself below your hands before positioning her hand on your shoulder while her other hand was still in yours, your free hand finding its place on her waist, "how could i forget?" she raised her brows as the two of you started dancing your own, overdramatic version of the waltz. "we practiced this for our middle school dance, only for you to get sick."

you laughed and shook your head slightly, "but i think we had more fun at my place. we still wore those ridiculous poofy dresses and danced around our living room." a small fond smile plays on your lips as you think back to that day, "then we watched princess movies and ate candy until we had sugar highs and felt like dancing again."

you spun lottie once again before pulling her back to you, but unlike the wide smile on your face, hers slowly died down on her lips, lottie looking at you, the lighter flecks of brown in her eyes illuminated under the yellow street lamp, your smile turning into a slight frown, wondering what was on lottie's mind.

"what's-"

but once again, before you could even finish your sentence, lottie's hands moved to cup your face as she pulled you close, pressing her lips against yours.

before you even had time to react to feeling lottie kissing you, she had pulled away from you, your own shocked expression mirrored on hers. you felt as she untangled herself from your grip, a flash of pink running away from you and straight to the matthews' residence.

you threw a small rock into the lake, your lips turned down into a frown. even on the plane, you'd tried to ask her to sit next to you, only for her to sit down next to one of your teammates before you even had time to utter a word.

as you were drawing patterns into the sand with a small branch you'd found, a pair of wet feet pattered in front of you, and when you looked up, you saw that it was her.

lottie sat down next to you, looking at the ground as she pulled her knees close to her body, "what are you drawing?" she asked quietly.

"just random patterns." you shrugged, looking at the spirals now adorning the ground and putting down the small branch, "so, are you talking to me now?"

"i'm sorry." lottie mumbled, pursing her lips, "i just... i didn't want things to change between us." she took in a deep breath as she lifted her gaze up to look at the lake, "it was all just... complicated."

"well, if you didn't want things to change, you shouldn't have kissed me." you mutter, letting out a small scoff. you avoided her gaze, not wanting her to see the glistening in your eyes, but when you felt her place her hand over yours, you couldn't help but look up at her face, your eyes slightly widened.

"i'm sorry." lottie smiled at you sheepishly as you turned your hand around in hers so your palm was pressed against hers, intertwining your fingers with hers.

you looked up at the sky, biting back the smile that threatened to twitch up your lips as you felt her intertwine her fingers with yours, letting out a soft, "okay."

#⋆. 𐙚 ˚ lottie #♡ rina’s 2k celebration #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews fanfiction #lottie matthews x y/n #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews #lottie yellowjackets #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets fanfiction #yellowjackets fanfic #courtney eaton

373 notes · View notes

moonwoodhollow · 1 year ago

Text

HOHENZOLLERN ALLEE 72-76

a German-inspired 1950s apartment build + a furnished flat

A build download that was in the works for almost a month and made me realise how much I love building local architecture even though it's not the easiest within the constraints of TS4.

It's meant to represent a realistic German apartment build, that is a bit run down and yet still feels homey and nostalgic to those of us growing up near or in these buildings. There's one furnished flat that is ideal for 2-3 sims and furnished in a retro 60s-90s look, that I hope you'll enjoy! This is also a BIG 1K followers gift, with which I want to show my deepest appreciation to all my followers, thank you so much!!

More info, screenshots + DL link behind the cut!

First a little history/backstory to this build:

This build is something you'd see very often in Middle to Northern Europe, less so in the UK, because brick builds there look similar but also different and I based my build off of Northern German brick builds.

The red brick used for these builds dominates the townscapes in quite a few cities where I live and has been used for a few centuries (see Brick Gothic). This build that I based on a real building, however, is more modern and was probably built after WW2, as the design choices, like using tiles on the facades of brick builds is something distinctively 1950s. I know there are older examples, but these buildings usually have more design and decor elements on the facades. These red brick builds were built en masse starting with the 1920s and were usually meant for low-income households. The same goes for the 1950s brick builds, which were built on top of ruins of older buildings destroyed in the war and oftentimes were cheaply constructed and usually don't receive the same appreciation that older pre-war brick builds get, so quite a few are already being demolished for more modern builds.

So what do you get with this build?

Hohenzollernallee 72-76 is a 40x30 lot that I placed in Evergreen Harbor on the Sprucewood Square lot. I created 2 versions of the building, one as a normal residential lot and another as a residential rental. Just choose whatever you want! There are 6 different flats, that have been renovated at different times, which is apparent from the condition of their kitchen and bathroom.. Each flat has its own basement room and the garden is shared between all tenants and there's a shared laundry room in the basement as well.

You'll also have a restaurant shell, the Burger Lab that is not functional currently, but you could make it so if you want.

The furnished flat is playtested and ideal for 2-4 sims max and is heavily 'lived in', meaning very cluttered. I personally see an older woman living there, whose husband already died and her daughter left as soon she turned 18, but the interior was never changed or renovated. I don't know, you could probably come up with a lot of story ideas!

CC is mostly included. You'll find an Excel file with the specific file names and the dl link for all CC that is not included. The build will probably still look okay-ish without the excluded CC but I strongly recommend downloading it, if you do not already have it.

Thank you, especially to these lovely creators: @budgie2budgie, @sforzinda, @surely-sims, @pluto-sims, @syboubou.

@myshunosun, @charlypancakes, @peacemaker-ic, @kkbsmm, @leaf-motif

@awingedllama, @kirsicca, @baufive, @lumenniveus, @kiwisim4 and many more!! it's because of you that this build looks the way it does <3

Uses items from the following packs: For Rent, Growing Together, High School Years, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats and Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dreamhome Decorator, Strangerville, Vampires, Dine Out, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Backyard Stuff, (Kits): Party Essentials, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Bathroom Clutter, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe, Little Campers, Décor to the Max, Industriel Loft & Courtyard Oasis

Download: Google Drive | also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you'll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)

-> Info: I tried to not include merged files, but there are about 3-5 that I missed, sorry :(

TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 build dl #showusyourbuilds #show us your builds #sims 4 lot download #sims 4 lot dl #sims 4 build #sims 4 interior #*mine #*mydownload #sims community #sims 4 screenshots

962 notes · View notes

knight-of-flowerss · 19 days ago

Note

Omg sweet blue collar mechanic cregan and his like kinda stuck up spoilt girlfriend reader would be >>>

their dynamic would be so cute her pouting and needing his help all the time and him just being her lap dog

OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO SMARTTTT and yes 100% he would do ANYTHING!!! He's like a big puppy dog but looks like he could batter u 😭

Mechanic!Cregan Stark x Stuck up!Reader

MDNI 18+!!!!

MASTERLIST

🔧•Working at a chop shop was something Cregan didn't think he'd be doing at twenty seven.

🔧•I mean, he's done a ton of illegal shit, of course he has. He literally used to work for the Targaryen's.

🔧•Crime is all Cregan ever knew. By the time he was 15, both his parents had tragically died and he was stuck with his uncle. Unfortunately, his uncle was abusive and cruel, leading Cregan to run away from home.

🔧•That's how he found himself tangled in the Targaryen crime family. He had went to school with some not so friendly people up north that got him in contact with a certain someone down south.

🔧•Aegon Targaryen was Cregan's age, just a few months younger. He had started the whole 'empire' by just being a teen addicted to drugs, but with his wealth, he managed to buy out suppliers and warehouses and he slowly became the biggest supplier of snout, green, ket. Anything you can think of, he supplies.

🔧•Aegon helped Cregan get on his feet at seventeen years old, giving him a job at the mechanic's that he owned, a secret chop shop while also being a front for money laundering. In Aegon's eyes, he killed two birds with one stone.

🔧•And there, Cregan got good at what he did. Learning under Harwin Strong, he knew how to do anything and everything on cars. And Harwin didn't just teach him how to fix cars.

🔧•On breaks, Harwin would teach Cregan how to fight. Cregan had a slight idea on how to fight, he had to defend himself against his uncle a few times but that was the only thing he was good at, defense. Harwin decided to teach Cregan offence.

🔧•You're probably thinking, why? Why would Harwin teach Cregan to fight? Well, being involved in drugs and crime, you need to know how to defend yourself. Especially since the people from Essos and Skagos have started to integrate into Westeros, bringing their own threats with them.

🔧•Cregan's done it all, seen it all, heard it all. Being the muscle of the operation, he's been through it all.

🔧•But it's died down now, he's thrown himself into more of his work at the chop shop, and that's where he met you.

🔧•A Porsche had been stolen by Luke and Joffrey and brought to the shop. That was their job, stealing. Being only ten and fourteen, they went under the police radar so they could get their slippery hands on anything, including your Porsche.

🔧•You were distraught, on the verge on calling the police when your friend Baela stopped you, begged you not to. She admitted that it was probably her boyfriend's younger brothers who stole it and it would be at the shop.

🔧•Next thing you know you're storming down to the shop in your red bottomed heels and tiny dress in the roughest part of Kingslanding.

🔧•"Oh my gods!" You shout as you walk to the shop, seeing your once gorgeous Porsche getting ripped apart for pieces. Cregan, who was in the middle of taking the bumper off, turns around to see who shouted.

🔧•He's met with the sight of you, purse in one hand and phone in the other staring in horror as he destroys your car. You storm towards him, your heels clicking furiously on the concrete.

🔧•He stands up, towering high over you as you cross your arms. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?!"

🔧•Cregan just stares at you, eyes widened just slightly, his mouth parted just barely, as if he was mute. "Hello?! Are you fucking deaf?!" You shout in his face.

🔧•He just shakes his head, never tearing his eyes off of you. In all his years, he'd never been silenced by a pretty girl.

🔧•Cregan didn't know how it happened. One moment, he's zoned out as you scream in his face about the car, your car that he's tearing up. And the next.. the next he's 'repaying' you with his cock in the backseat of your torn up Porsche.

🔧•Your head is lulled out of the backseat window, your tits spilling over too as he fucks you from behind.

🔧•Cregan's cheek smushes up against your spine, his brows furrowed and eyes closed. He couldn't help but enter that stage of dumbness that he was in before, soft groans leaving his lips.

🔧•His heavy balls smacks against your puffy lips, his pubic hair catching lightly against your clit each time. He's lucky Harwin wasn't in today, or else Cregan would be getting a right telling off in the office right now.

🔧•But now, he lets himself indulge in your sweet cunt, the squelching making his cock twitch each time he hears it.

🔧•His hands move forward, yanking you in the car some more. Your nipples catch against the little nook of where the window is currently winded down and a whine rips itself from your lips.

🔧•Cregan's hands reach to paw at your tits. Typical rich girl, tiny little tits but a big attitude. But he didn't mind, in fact, Cregan was a dirty fucking pervert for small tits. He doesn't know what it is but they drive him fucking feral.

🔧•After your little.. fiasco.. he finally speaks, his thick northern accent making your legs buckle, and not just because you'd been fucked within an inch of your life.

🔧•He told you his name and even offered to get Lucerys and Joffrey to steal another car for you, any brand you wanted. Of course, you declined, you don't fuck with second hand shit.

🔧•No one truly knows how it happens, not even Cregan himself, but you had begun to stick around. No labels, of course, but he was yours. Everyone knew it.

🔧•Cregan didn't really know what to do with himself. He had beaten guys to a pulp and murdered people who deserved it. He'd done drugs and even sold them to kids. But he still didn't know why he was so.. well.. submissive around you.

🔧•He wasn't submissive per se.. he just let you do the talking while his hand stayed on your hip.

🔧•He couldn't afford the latest Channel bag or the new PRADA heel, but he could fuck you. He could fuck you and make you feel like a fucking goddess.

🔧•Even if he couldn't supply you with the items that fill your wardrobe, he treat you the way you deserved. Well, a lot would say you didn't deserve it, but Cregan would just bury his head in between your thighs to silence any thought you had of their harsh words.

🔧•Basically, what I'm saying it that Cregan is a sheep in wolf's clothing and you, the reader, are a wolf in sheep's clothing. But he fucking loves you.

🔧•He's literally the boyfriend that would take care of you even if he's tired, he's still willing to fuck his pillow princess into the mattress, not letting her lift a finger, as if she ever would.

🔧•He's a perfect boyfriend and I would write more but I need to post something so 🧍‍♀️

I definitely wanna write more about Mechanic!Cregan but I just had to get something out before I go to Kurtis Conner tomorrow lmao 😭

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood

183 notes · View notes

trashmouth-richie · 5 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | steve x reader ; eddie x reader

summary: when your boyfriend dies as a result from saving you and your friends, you find yourself deep in the throes of grief. and in your lowest moment you find a new vice, something… or rather someone unexpected.

6.1k, reader is named “nellie” simply bc i refuse to use y/n, smut, 18+ only, multiple chapters, future drug use, mature themes, heavy depictions of grief/suffering leading to questionable decisions

big s/o & thanks to @rebelfell + @rxqueenotd for spit ballin’ ideas and beta’ing ❤️‍🩹

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His body laid for three days before Owen’s team braved that cold and eerie pit of desolate hell. Strong hands had pulled you away from his body, and you had tried to claw your way back to him, begging for death to take you instead.

That night you watched him choke on his last breath, his lungs gurgling with a squelching pop of blood as hesmiled one last, and final time, his last words played over and over again.

“I’m so lucky to have been loved by you.”

His skin was still warm when the others found you clutching onto him, laying beside him as if you were cuddling during another time. A time when monsters didn’t exist and all you had was happiness. Legs thrown over one another as you watched a movie in the Wheeler’s basement, or when your wet hair seeped into his skin after a late night of swimming at Lover’s Lake, or the feel of his fingers tucked into the nape of your neck while you kissed him at your lockers back in high school.

Never. You’d never feel that from him again.

Large arms wrapped around your middle hauling you away. And you scrambled, kicked and slapped to get back to him. Screaming his name over and over. Because they weren’t his hands, and they would never hold you again, he was dead, Steve was dead.

The hours after were a blur, somehow the rest of you had managed to get away. Eddie jump started an abandoned military vehicle that a rescue team had left while under attack, driving back to the gate that reopened under the ruins of StarCourt.

Your head laid in Robin’s lap the entire ride back while Eddie drove, silent tears falling down everyone’s cheeks, Dustin sobbing into Nancy’s bony shoulder.

You all stayed together those first few nights, laying in a fortress of blankets and couch pillows in your living room. It all seemed to move in slow motion, a terrible aching dread filled your soul and refused to leave the hole in your heart.

The house you and Steve had rented was large enough to accommodate everyone for a few days. Those days were spent telling favorite stories of him. Talking about the pride he had for everyone, the mother hen of the group. How he would lay down and sacrifice himself for everyone he knew and he did just that.

A solemn silence fell over everyone, after a kick to the chest of reality fell like a veil—that he would never again come walking in the door. That Robin lost her best friend and confidant. That you would mourn your boyfriend, lover, and friend until your dying days. That Dustin lost his first male father figure. It all came crashing down at once, and no one spoke much after that besides the occasional sniffle or to open the back door to chain smoke the anxiety away.

Claudia eventually called to have Dustin come home. Jonathan stopped over with his long haired friend from California, and you were anything but friendly to them. How could you be? You watched in jealous rage as Jonathan pressed kisses to Nancy’s cheek and rubbed her back soothingly.

She lost a friend. You had lost the only person who knew you from the inside and out, and it wasn’t fair.

Everyone trickled out of the home you shared with Steve. One by one, silently not wanting to be the last to leave, to have to watch your eyes wet as you were left to your own vices, left in this empty house that held all of your memories.

You couldn’t blame them. Hell was here and you were swallowed by its warmth, the flames licking your neck as you fell deeper into it, succumbing to the heat.

Eddie was the last to go. He was oddly quiet during the last few days, leaving late after everyone had fallen asleep just to return again in the morning. He had asked to use the phone only once, quietly excusing himself to use the bathroom afterwards, coming back to the living room looking even more lost than he had earlier, his eyes wet with fresh tears.

It was almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should be here or not. He didn’t know Steve as long as everyone else did, but over the last year they’d gotten close, as if they were almost family more than they were friends.

You had come to know and accept Eddie and Chrissy well, over the last year you’d spent a few nights every couple of months double dating at Enzo’s or game nights playing Scrabble at your house. When the world flipped upside down again, all of the fun came to an end, and the last nine months or more had been spent strategizing… trying to find a means to end this real life hell once and for all.

And it did end, but at what cost?

Eddie’s shadow lingered by the front door as you walked over, one of Steve’s button down shirts hanging loose on your shoulders, the sleeves damp with your tears.

His dark eyes swam with something you hadn’t recognized at all the past week, it wasn’t fear like it had been when you were miles below in another dimension. But you couldn’t nail down what he was feeling as he asked, “are you gonna be okay?”

You stared at him, raising an eyebrow with an exhaustive look.

His fingers worked the rings on his left hand. “I mean, tonight… are you alright, alone? I can stay if you...” He paused for a while, his tongue pressed into his cheek as he stared at the blue rug, his boots pinching his aching feet. Raising his eyes to yours once more, “I— I know how it feels when someone you love dies, it’s…hard.”

Tears welled for what felt like the hundredth time in twenty four hours, and you shook your head. You dreaded this night when things should return to normal, when your friends had to return to school, their jobs. Things had to go back to the way they were— but you couldn’t. Not now, Maybe not ever.

You remember how Eddie had missed school for weeks years ago back in elementary. But you weren’t friends then so you never knew, and you felt like a bitch for never asking. “I’m sorry, I— I didn’t—.”

He turned his face away, smiling and finding interest in the wood grain of the front door, “it was a long time ago, I’ve had time to heal, but it takes awhile.”

All you had was time. Time without Steve. Time to mourn the loss of the only man you’ve ever loved. Silent streaks slid down the apples of your cheeks, and Eddie stepped forward like he might crush you into a hug, but he stopped short. Instead rubbing his hand lightly down your arm, “I left my number on the counter, call anytime. Okay?”

You blinked back at him and nodded. If you wouldn’t have been crying you could have seen the turmoil stir in the caffeinated browns of his.

“Thanks, Eddie… I might just take you up on that.”

He smiled gravely, “I did— I didn’t know Steve for as long as everyone else did… but he was a really good friend to me.”

You looked up at him, eyes welling with tears at the man all of Hawkins marked to be a Satanic Cult Leader.

“He cared about you and Chrissy a lot, Eddie.”

He smiled sadly and turned away before you could catch him wiping his eyes, or notice the wobble of his bottom lip.

“I know, I did too…take care, Nellie.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Steve’s cologne was still on the bathroom sink. Dried toothpaste was stuck between the bristles of his toothbrush left from his rush to leave that morning— the last one he’d ever have.

His bar of soap in the shower still held dry bubbles from lathered skin the last night you’d spent together. You had shared the warmth of a shower, shampooing his hair and Steve attempting to help shave your legs, giggling between the spray of the water. Later he laid you down making you whimper as he kissed your neck, fucking you slow and deep, whispering in your ear how you were his entire world.

You hadn’t slept in your shared bed since his death, and now that the chaos had dissipated, and the house was quiet outside of the usual clicks and hums from the refrigerator, you braved the lonely queen sized bed and slipped between the cool sheets.

The sweet burn of cedar, clove and a tangy bit of citrus surrounded you. Steve’s aroma, his smell held you like a child as you cried into his pillow. Curling your body into his side of the bed, you imagined his large hands splayed across your belly as he held you close to him, pulling you tightly against him so there wasn’t a single inch of him not touching you.

But in the end it was just you alone, trying to find warmth in cold sheets with a wet pillow.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The alarm clock had scared the shit out of you.

The ringing turned to chimes in your dream, and when you woke— alone, it was in a puddle of sweat, the bed sheets wrapped around you like those horrible black vines had.

The kitchen tile was cold on your bare toes as you padded to the coffee maker. Steve considered himself the best barista in Hawkins, and no matter how hard you tried to replicate it your pot of coffee never stood a chance next to his.

Digging into the Folgers can, you dump two heaping dollops of grounds into the filter, pressing the ‘on’ button, mentally preparing for the worst cup of coffee you’d had since before you had started dating Steve. No hope to be found, optimism long gone.

It took only a moment, a single sleep riddled half thought for you to slip up, your mind forgetting for just a second as you accidentally wondered what you and Steve would do for the weekend.

Your nerves went into shock, you gasped in guilted embarrassment at the audacity to forget that. How? How how how how how! Pulling at your hair you scanned the kitchen table, eyeing Eddie’s number written on a pad of paper, but grabbing the phone you dialed a different one instead.

She answered on the second ring, her voice sleepy and haggard as you whispered through choked tears, “h—he’s gone.”

“Yeah,” Robin answered, sheets shuffling around, “he’s gone.”

Tears fell in large drops down your face, as you nodded at the answer you already knew, silently needing the confirmation.

How would you be able to walk the streets alone without Steve’s big hand crimped tight around yours? How could you live without ever hearing his voice, his laugh ever again?

When you hung up, Robin didn’t call back, and even if she had you wouldn’t have picked up. The day brought visitors trying to cheer you up. Rubbing your back as you stared blankly at the wall. Promising you things would get better, would be easier as time went on. Bullshit. All of it.

As sweet as they were, how the hell would they know? How could they possibly hurt as bad as you did?

They had lost a friend, an older brother figure, but they didn’t know Steve on the intimate levels you did. They had no idea that he woke with terrors almost every night. Or that he had failed his driver’s test twice, or that he had a patch of light freckles on his nether region.

Steve had been everything to you and now that he was gone you didn’t know how to cope in a world without him. If whatever higher power could grant Chrissy new life, and Eddie was spared from the bats, why wasn’t Steve?

Your questions went unanswered as your mind reeled with pictures of him, flicking like a movie, your eyes stinging with anger.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Every night since he had died, you had slept in a pair of Steve’s boxers and a Hawkins High Prom 1984 shirt.

From what you could tell, Robin was in the same shape you were in, unable to go back to work, barely sleeping. The only difference was she had Vickie at home to comfort her, hold her and wipe away her cries.

You couldn’t help but feel nothing but jealous and sick to your stomach at the thought of how you were having to go through this alone. No matter how selfish that made you, you simply couldn’t care.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Nancy woke you the morning before the funeral with a sharp knock on the front door, and an armful of baked goods. She made coffee as you stared a hole into the kitchen floor, she vacuumed as you thumbed through Steve’s wallet, silently tearing up over his driver’s license picture.

She folded laundry while you sobbed and screamed at a very surprised Keith when he called to ask why Steve hadn’t shown up for his shift. Nancy didn’t blink when the phone was pulled from the wall and sent flying across the living room as you pulled your hair in a fit because Steve is gone. Dead. Not coming back.

Nancy simply rubbed your back, pushing away hair from your wet cheeks after you fell asleep with your head in her lap. And when you woke, feeling worse than hungover with swollen eyes and a sore throat— she wouldn’t let you apologize.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Surprisingly, Steve’s parents found it in themselves to pretend they gave a shit long enough to plan his funeral.

Everything was gaudy. Overdone and full of rich smells of roses so strong you wanted to vomit.

Pearls clung to your ears and neck. The velvet of your black dress was warm on your body despite the cold gusts of wind that chapped your stocking clad legs. The sun wouldn’t shine today, or in your mind ever again.

Robin showed up first, clinging to Vickie’s arm, a sad smile on her freckled face. She wore a dress, a sort of last laugh for Steve’s sake to see her dressed up. She throws herself at you, all legs and tear stained cheeks, squeezing your face into her shoulder.

“He would have hated this,” she sniffled after glancing around at The Harrington’s entourage, “look at her wiping her eyes as if she’d even talked to Steve within the last year.”

Steve’s mother stood in all of her Chanel No 9 glory, delicately dabbing a silk hanky to her dry eyes, as funeral goers grasped her manicured hand and spilled condolences.

The sight alone made you sick. Mary could win an Oscar for her performance. Nobody but you and Robin would have any idea that Steve hadn’t spoken to his parents in over a year. Christmas to be exact. The first and last one you two had spent at their enormous home.

What should have been a nice evening ended in harsh words and Steve’s father saying he was disowning him. Steve held his head high on the way home, apologizing for his parents and promising that he would never have anything to do with them again.

And from there up until they were told of their only son’s death— The Harrington’s never once tried to make amends.

“Always a show with her,” you sighed angrily.

“How are you doing? Vickie asks shyly, “Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m fine, really. I—I’m okay, slowly but surely.”

Vickie smiles and squeezes your hand, “He never loved someone as much as he loved you, Nel.”

The words hit like a bullet.

You knew.

Of course you had known. Steve told you that himself on more occasions than you could count, you didn’t need to hear it from someone else, didn’t need the reassurance that a man who literally died to protect you really did love you.

It felt foreign—sounding horribly wrong coming out of a mouth that wasn’t his. Body on fire with something worse than rage, all you wanted to do was scream. Nodding your head once you excuse yourself, pushing out of the side exit and down some cement steps to the outside.

Air. You needed to force air into your lungs before you collapsed. Your chest felt as if it was going to burst into flames, suddenly everything felt so restricting. The air was frozen and bitter, resembling yourself lately and the outcome of the last few days.

Gasping, choking on wailing cries you pulled at the neck of your dress, kicking your shoes into the dead grass. You yanked barrettes from your hair and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes until you saw spots of gold and green. Anything to try to get some relief try to stop the sensation of being suffocated by something you couldn’t even see.

“Nellie?”

Tears poured from your face as you whimpered, struggling with the zipper on the back of your dress.

It wasn’t fair. Why him? Why Steve? He was so good. Much better than you. He was kind and handsome, he loved big and treated everyone around him like they were the most important person in the room.

He was the best friend, best boyfriend, best everything.

It should have been you.

A pair of warm hands land on your shoulders pulling you backwards and upright, frightening you before the warm tobacco spiced voice whispers in your ear.

“Breathe, Nel… c’mon sweetheart.”

“I- c—can’t… Eddie…I—” coughing and clawing at the necklace of pearls, you desperately tried to unhook them, their weight feeling like boulders sitting on your chest, threatening to break you to pieces.

Eddie moved the hair from your neck, and in one little clink the necklace fell into your hands.

“It’s off, it’s off— c’mon now, you gotta take a deep breath for me.” He spun you around placing his warm hands on your cheeks, sweeping away the icy tears.

He was dressed in all black, his leather jacket tight on his arms. A frumpy, wrinkled tie loose around his neck looking like it had been tied and re-tied too many times before he just gave up.

“In and out,” he instructed softly, taking your hand and placing it against his chest, “match it to mine. Feel it?”

It didn’t work, it wasn't helping. Eddie didn’t waste time before the cold leather of his arms wrap around you, delicately rubbing your back as you collapsed into him.

The wind bit at his face as he held you close, stroking your hair. “It’s alright, ‘s gonna be okay, I’m here— we all are.”

You let yourself break, let the sadness consume you before the funeral could start and you had to be brave for everyone. You wouldn’t let his parents see you this way, they already thought you were every bit of trash but Steve had always held you higher, placing you on a special little pedestal. And with him, nothing else mattered.

Wiping your eyes, you pull back enough to see Eddie’s face, the dark sunglasses he wore were fogged up on the inside, shielding away his own turmoil, but his lip quivered slightly.

“God, Eddie,“ you sniffed, voice wobbly as you murmur, “Sorry.. ‘m such a mess.”

“Don’t do that,” he almost whispers, voice low and sensual, “don’t apologize.”

If you could see his eyes you would notice how sad they were, how he was doing his very best to hold it together. How he had bags under his eyes from not sleeping. You’d see the guilt etched into the darks of his irises for being alive, for coming out of there alive.

The door swings open with a loud crack, caught in a gust of blustering wind, Dustin standing on the threshold trying to hold onto the handle for dear life, he winces when he sees the two of you.

“Hey, it’s—” he looks at his watch, “they’re ready to start.”

Eddie removes his hands from your arms and shoves them into his pockets, all the warmth leaving you as the wind creeps through the fabric of your dress.

“Be right there man,” Eddie answers tight lipped, trying to convey to Dustin that you needed a minute to collect yourself, “save me a seat.”

When the door shuts with great force on Dustin’s end, he bends down to scoop up your discarded heels, holding them by the backs. He sets them on the ground between the two of you, gathering your arm in his hand as you steadied yourself with his body to balance while you slipped your feet in.

Taking one last ragged breath, Eddie moves beside you looking up at the church, then back at you.

“I don’t think I can say goodbye.”

Eddie swallows hard, reaching out with a cautious hand but deciding at the last minute to shove it into his pocket, “you don’t have to, y'know? My m— well, I heard once that a person’s spirit can live on as long as you need them.”

“D’ do you believe in that kind of stuff?” you ask solemnly, “The afterlife? Reincarnation?”

“I believe that Steve would want all of us to keep going, to be the best versions of ourselves…. and he would probably scold us for being late to his funeral.”

You smile then, wrapping your hands around your arms rubbing warmth into them. “He definitely would, I can almost hear him fussing.”

“Hands on his hips, no doubt,” Eddie said with a grin, “But he’d pull himself together…be strong for everyone, he was always good at doing that.”

You look at him, completely unaware of his own inner struggles. “That was Steve, always brave, always willing to defend someone.”

The door busts open again, this time it’s Hopper, his bristly mustache matching his thick eyebrows as he stares with annoyance at your tardiness.

“Shit,” Eddie jokes, “better go before he calls the hounds.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It was a closed casket per your request, even though his mother argued to have it open. Wanting the sympathy from her friends of being a parent “burying-their-child” and to have people comment on how he looked like her, how beautiful they both were— it was sick.

Dustin made a speech. His hair pushed back just how Steve had taught him back in high school. He shed a tear at the end when he referred to Steve as his best friend. Climbing down from the podium, he slumped in the pew next to Eddie, sniffling softly as his shoulders shook.

Robin recited a light hearted poem, promising to keep the store running and to finally get her driver’s license. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the laughs she and Steve had shared.

When it was your turn, your heart felt like it was filled with lead, the walk up the ugly church carpet felt as if it drug on forever, and you had to take several deep breaths before adjusting the mic.

Your poorly written speech talked about how Steve lit up every room, how he was adored by everyone at Hawkins High. But now, under the scathing florescent lights under the wet eyes of your closest friends, the jumbled words looked like nothing but bullshit.

Tears rimmed your eyes and you felt the same death grip of panic rising on your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, body shaking as you fumbled with the index cards, “I- I can’t.”

It was Joyce who met you at the podium with a caring smile, and open arms guiding you back to the pew. She didn’t mind that you sobbed into her shoulder making a mess of her cotton dress. And when the service was over and it was time to go to the cemetery, she held your hand and led the way.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You felt numb as you stood next to Robin. Her icy fingers laced with yours as you zoned out completely while standing at his gravesite. Someone was talking but you couldn’t register who it was or what they were saying.

Your body was present but your mind was floating in a memory.

“Should we have spaghetti tonight? Or do you wanna order a pizza and I’ll pick it up after I leave work?”

Steve’s comforting voice filled your ear as you twirled your finger around the cord in the stockroom at Melvald’s. A common occurrence for the two of you, each sneaking off to call each other during the day. Eight hours away from him was too much.

“Already got the noodles boiling for spaghetti, honey,” he practically purred into the phone, “tell Joyce you’re taking off for the night and come home to me.”

Your smile squeaked through the receiver, your heart skipped beats at the thought of Steve Harrington wanting you… two years together it still seemed like yesterday that you had gone on your first date.

“Steve,” you giggled, “You didn’t have to.”

“Ah ah ah, I won’t listen to that,” Steve lightly scolded, “I like to cook and take care of my girl, we’re a team, Nellie.”

You begrudgingly sigh and feel heat rise to your cheeks, you really were one of the luckiest girls. “Okay Captain, what kind of noodles are you making?”

Steve chuckles through the receiver, cream colored phone balancing on his shoulder as he adds salt to the boiling water.

“It was a toss up between angel hair or fettuccine… fettuccine won, and I picked up some garlic bread from Enzo’s.”

“Ohh, you’re spoiling me rotten,” you purr, imagining what you would do to thank him…something involving your favorite part of him and your mouth, “I’ll stop at Bradley’s for some drinks, what are ya thinkin’?”

Steve smiles, putting a dish towel on his shoulder, “surprise me.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The church basement reeked of furniture polish, clashing with heavy floral perfume to mask the smell of mildew from a previous heavy rainfall.

The Women of Fellowship were serving ham on wheat buns with chips and a veggie tray. Their faces planted with a christian sympathy smile as they cut brownies and refilled the punch bowl.

A bottle of champagne sat chilled in a bath of ice per Mrs. Harrington’s demands. No reason to be so down all day, might as well make it a special occasion! As if the death of her only son wasn’t enough, was too boring for her.

You rolled your eyes and shoved your plate away as her obnoxious laugh erupts from behind you. Steve’s father telling his colleagues a dirty joke no doubt, his face red from stifling a laugh and the whiskey he clutched in a monogrammed flask.

“Nellie?” Nancy chirped, adjusting her slim figure to whisper gently across the table your group of friends were sulking at, “I have some frozen meals my mom and I put together, I can come over tonight and give you the instructions if you’d like?”

Nodding softly you meet her eyes, “Thanks Nance, that’d be really nice.”

It went silent again, Max fidgeted with her hair, pulling it back in a loose ponytail. Will’s watch beeped but he clicked it off lazily, running his hands down his face. Nobody knew what to say or what to do. What do you say at a friend's funeral?

“Are they always like this?” Eddie blurts through the quiet, cocking his head towards the Harrington’s. He was leaning back in his chair, one arm slung over the back of an empty chair beside him, his sunglasses were still on, just as they were through the church service and at the gravesite.

Everyone at the table looks to you, expecting some sort of an explanation, but you simply shrug, “I- I don’t really know them very well.”

“Steve’s parents?” Nancy questions, “they’re super sweet, when I—”

She stops then her mouth closing with a pop to remember that it probably wasn’t the time to talk about her long ago relationship with Steve at his funeral in front of his current girlfriend.

“… they uhhh.. they were always nice.”

It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know. Mostly because you and Steve had never mentioned it to anyone besides Robin. But her words stung, hit your chest like a thousand mad bees.

You stand on shaky legs, “I need—yeah…” Without giving anything more you walk away, almost taking the table cloth with you from it tangling in your purse.

“Nellie,” Robin tries, her own eyes swimming with hurt, but you’re already two tables away, squeezing between padded shoulders and hands holding plastic cups of punch, bleary eyed to find anywhere to be but here.

Turns out a broom closet storing Christmas decorations stuffed right with the plastic light-up yard Bethlehem set, was the right place to have a breakdown.

You were hiding for a solid ten minutes before you heard a soft knock and a quiet ‘Nell?’ And your unladylike sniffling gave you away as you wiped your nose on the blanket swaddling baby Jesus.

“Rob,” you exhaled annoyingly, “I’m fine, okay? Tell Nance I’m sorry.” But to your surprise it was Eddie.

“Hey.” he says cautiously, clicking the door behind him and leaning against it.

You looked from him to your shoes and muttered out a soft, “hi.”

“So… Mr. and Mrs. Harrington seem like real big pieces of shit… wow.”

You snort airily fiddling with the run in your stocking, “Yeah, they’re something alright.”

Eddie slides down the door, sitting with his legs crossed in front of him, exhaling a deep breath,“It’s been a long day,” he finally said.

“I don’t know what to do next.”

Eddie looks at you confused, and eyes you when you stand abruptly and start pacing around the cramped closet.

You’re erratic, talking fast and crazed, “I told myself that all I needed to do was just make it to the funeral. Make it through the funeral and…and then I would figure it all out from there! Now here we are— and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do after, Eddie!

“After it’s over? And– when I leave… he’ll still be here in the ground, and I— ” you start to apologize but refrain, “.. I should go.”

“Talk to me,” Eddie stands to his full height, reaching towards you, just barely grazing your elbow with his fingertips. His voice nearly breaking, “it helps to get it out.”

You hiccup, and pull away, stumbling over a slew of strung together sentences that you’re barely breathing through to get out.

“..’s… shit, he was all I had. My parents are gone, I don’t have any siblings. It’s been… d’ you know that his parents have never approved of me, but Steve he— he fought for me, for us. Without him…I’m alone.”

Eddie follows you his hands firm your biceps to try to calm you down. “All your friends are here. Robin, Vickie, the kids…”

His words have no meaning to you, none of it mattered, your pain was demanding to be felt, and frilly words with no merit wouldn’t sugar coat this. “He’s gone, Eddie! He didn’t get to have a second chance he—died!”

He’s level headed but slowly losing his own battle, trying not to break thinking about his luck and the never ending guilt he carried.

“We were all there, all of us are hurting, Nellie. You can’t shut people out and clam up.”

You try to wriggle free from him, but he’s stronger, and all you can do is cry, “I— can’t keep going! Not without him!”

Feeling the weight of survivor's guilt and the agony of never being able to be consoled by Steve again, you break. Sobbing uncontrollably. Eddie’s arms surround you, holding you tight and engulfing your cries with his own tears, and little shushes from his throat.

“I’m sorry, Nellie. I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t cry— it will take time but you.. we will be okay.”

His voice is wobbly and his chest shakes as he cries silently grieving for his best friend. With tears running down your cheeks you pull away slightly to see his face.

In the dim light you can make out that his nose is tinged red, and with unsteady hands you reach up and pry his sunglasses from his face.

His eyes were red, a little swollen from rubbing them and fatigued with lack of sleep. You could kick yourself for not recognizing how hurt he was, how self absorbed you had been. Both of you are crying together, clinging onto each other under the yellow light in that makeshift storage closet.

Throwing yourself at him, your cheek presses into his chest as you both sob into one another. Meshing your suffering with his.

His chin is resting on your head, hands wrapped in your hair. Your hands are clutching the opening of his shirt, fingers just barely grazing over his bare chest. Minutes passed and you exhale an exhausted sigh.

Lifting your face up to tell Eddie that maybe you should get back, your nose brushes against his. And when you both should be moving away, straightening yourself up and wiping your eyes, neither of you pull back.

Eddie’s breath fans against your cheek, a small shudder on your skin, the emotional hold of the day, his arms wrapped around you it was nice… it felt, good. Without thinking, without acknowledging what you’re doing you tilt your head and line your mouth up with his, pressing your lips to his.

It’s unexpectedly tender, and what should startle him doesn’t, but all of that sweetness is quickly swallowed by a hunger you had never felt before.

It’s nothing but grabby hands and needy mouths. His hands go from soft and consoling to roughly working his pants down in the same hastiness- that you’re hauling your dress up.

Eddie grabs you from the crook of your knees as if you’re weightless and shoves you up hard against the wall. Your mouth hangs open in a silent plea as your panties get ripped to the side. Tears are still flowing down your face and if you were to look at him, you’d see that his haven't stopped either.

It’s desperate the way you’re clutching onto his shoulders. As if every ounce of pain was leaving you with every inch of him. You whimper with each pump of his hips and Eddie is doing the same, holding you impossibly tight, grunting into your ear.

It’s raw and harsh, the shelves shuddering with the pace of him taking you, and you’re all in, moaning when you’re close. Holding the nape of his neck and wringing his curls as you start to unravel, your nails clawing into him as your mind explodes.

When you finish, he’s close behind, groaning deep and biting his lip as he shakes violently with his release, pumping all he’s got into you.

What’s left between you is gasping breaths and tear kissed skin, a set of broken Christmas lights under Eddie’s boot.

His jacket is still in your clutches when you open your eyes, coming down from a high you clung to stay up on. But the weight of your decision comes crashing down when you realize what you had done.

Regret is painted thick on your face as the realization comes full force. You need to get out of here. What kind of grieving girlfriend were you to have fucked your dead boyfriend’s best friend in a church basement at his funeral.

A whore is what you are.

Eddie must have realized what kind of slut you were too because he sets you down and immediately turns away from you, shoving himself back into his pants.

But, before he can say anything, before he can try to talk you off a cliff— you’re already out of the door, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the horrifying expression twisted onto your face.

You don’t hear Eddie calling after you, or the way his face turned to fear as you threw open the door, practically sprinting away from him.

Lucky for you, nobody questioned why you were darting up the basement steps, or why you looked absolutely wrecked. Your keys fumbled in your hands as you unlocked your car, terrified to look back, running from your mistake, from Steve from Eddie.

The road was a dangerous blur on your drive home, your eyes flooding over obscuring stop signs and headlights. Your cheeks were still stained with yours and Eddie’s tears.

Tears that were shed in grief from the death of your boyfriend, the same ones that stayed on your face as you got fucked in a closet by his best friend. And more tears fell as you tried to comprehend why for the first time since Steve’s death, you felt comfort.

—

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie fanfic #steve x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things

310 notes · View notes

1-800-local-slut · 26 days ago

Note

Hello , I wanted to ask if you could please do powerpuff girl(bliss) reader in invincible . How she met mark grayson/rex splode. Their relationship and other reactions to it. Bliss has super strength, durability, and the ability to fly , Electric Generation - When Bliss!reader is emotionally fueled enough, she generates a field of electricity. When released, this unleashes a gigantic, destructive explosion. Telekinesis, Teleportation and Energy Manipulation: Bliss can generate and manipulate energy. Fusion - Bliss has the ability to combine her entity with other beings.

Powerpuff girls used to be my showww omg, Bliss was my favorite! I love the way you think pookie! Anyways, I didn't want the character born with the powers because I wanted this story to be more lighthearted and a lot of Bliss's storyline has to do with her anxiety making it hard for her to control her powers. These are also head canons because I had so many thoughts, I couldn't get them all down in a proper story format

Warnings: none, just fluff, good vibes, and some smut!

Note: reader was struck by an electrical accident at her father's job, giving her powers! I lowkey hate this but I hope you can enjoy!

Mark Grayson x Black! Superpowered! Reader

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

↯ You and Mark met in school. Started dating in middle school but your feelings grew deeper once you got into high school. Both awkward, pimply preteens who were struggling with growing into society. Yet you liked each other through your ugly duck phases and grew. Mark didn't need no other woman than you, especially when you loved him through that phase where he tried to grow his hair out.

↯ Not just because you were there when no other girl would look at him but because of you as a person. You were fierce, confident, honest even if it got you in trouble, a fighter. Even before you both had a glow up, he thought you were far out of his league

↯ He loved you no matter what. Even when he saw you in that hospital after your accident, looking nothing like his girlfriend. Tubes protruded from your chest, your face bandaged up, eyes swollen shut, bloodied bandages covered your body.

↯ Even when you were released and couldn't speak for months.

↯ Even when you started to change. The scars from the watts of electricity were never going away. After intense therapy you came to admire the lightning marks on your skin, even desiring to have them tattooed over to have them be more prominent

↯ But when they started glowing, that's when Mark got worried.

↯ When your curls suddenly became an electric shade of blue with a patch of it a lighter blue to the rest, he got really worried

↯ Mark had gotten used to having powers but now he had to get yours as well. He found himself walking you home one night then comforting you after you blasted a mugger who jumped out at you two. The lines of your skin came to life with energy then died down and a streetlight had blown out from the sudden manifestation of your powers

↯ But it's no biggie. He's a little freaked out for sure, especially when you snap at him from overstimulation one day and a large burst of electricity caused you to zap him along with knocking out all of the power in Chicago

↯ He spends the next few months helping you learn to control and understand your powers with each new one that popped up

↯ Energy manipulation outburst? Don't sweat it babe, he's got a book on deep breathing techniques and will leave it on your nightstand

↯ Two out of three of the Three T's: Telekinesis, Teleportation, and no Telepathy? He lets you practice lifting him into the air and giving you smaller objects to help you train the power.

↯ He'd fly when he saw you getting frustrated at your lack of progress and it was worth it just to see the look on your face

↯ Teleportation is his favorite of your powers. He forgot his wallet one day and you surprised him by teleporting home for it and placing it in his hand a second later

↯ You guys go flying together, and he's a decent teacher. He tries describing it to you the way his dad taught him, but it doesn't work for you the same way. You get the hang of it eventually, excitedly showing him before you got too excited. He watched you shoot into the sky with a scream and a flash of blue light trailing behind you

↯ He caught you in your panicked fall to the ground, before you could slap your face on concrete and end up back in the hospital

↯ Overtime, you two fell into a deeper understanding of yourselves and your powers even after a really rough patch where you nearly came to blows

↯ It was after Omni man tried to murder your boyfriend. You tried to be understanding but Mark was going through it so bad that it seemed like he didn't even like you anymore

↯ Now? Mark grew angry at the mention of a strong man trying to tell him something. Issue was, Mark wasn't just angry. Mental health can change a person

↯ He was angry when you tried to go out. How could you want to go fuck around outside when there were bigger issues at hand? He didn't trust you, suddenly jealous of your friends. You wanted to be with them more than him! But why would you want to be around someone who you just argued with and cried with every day?

↯ You were at the end of your rope and Mark realized it after it was almost too late.

↯ You two went through middle school together, you could survive anything. So, in one last attempt, you kicked down Mark's bedroom door and killed the power in his TV

↯ His options were, 'let's talk it out or say goodbye to the last five years of relationship bliss'. And because Mark loved you, he broke. The angry man wasn't totally gone, but piece by piece your loving man came back.

↯ The other thing Mark loves about you is how you do not quit. When he pushed you away, suddenly kept little secrets from you, woke up seemingly like a rabid dog, you stuck it through for months. The same way he stuck through you getting powers and through your accident and the storm after.

↯ He knows he was a lot during those months, and he thanks you to this day for sticking with him through it

↯ From there, you two were stronger than before

↯ Mark does anything for you, you do anything for him

↯ You guys go on dates twice a week if you can but your rarely separated unless it's to go to space

↯ His enemies are your enemies. You've beaten up Angstrom Levy for him twice during that Invincible War, but he was able to trick you and get away twice before you were ordered to stand down from Angstrom and focus on the variants

↯ And you being a popular hero as well had your own villains who seemed really determined to fuck with you. Like when that hardheaded hoe Gaia didn't learn after you kept giving her beat downs and caused your parents to have a car accident.

↯ Mark was first on the scene. He witnessed the terror being caused on the bridge. He dragged your parents' unconscious bodies out of their upside-down car and could smell the ass whopping you were about to give this girl.

↯ Mark dated you for long enough to get along with your parents, so he really didn't mind putting her in a choke hold and sending her to prison. It was safer for her there, considering if you got hands on her that night, you would've turned her everyway but lose about your parents

↯ The media loves you two. Not because you made your relationship clear but because fans picked up on the little moments you two shared. Duplikates side hobby as vlogging her life as a superhero showcased a few tender moments.

↯ When you'd share food on a team trip to Wendy's. Drinking from the same straw. Those little jokes he'd whisper into your ear.

↯ Even in the heat of battle. The tendency to always float near or around each other, leaning on one another, watching each other's back just a bit closer.

↯ The one day you and Kate were cooking something on live and he passed by before slapping you on your ass and you didn't react in anger but instead you smiled on instinct before pushing him away from you

↯ The clip of Invincible letting Immortal get kicked in the face to move you out of danger was one of the funniest clips on Twitter for a while too

↯ The comments under your interviews always went crazy too, but neither of you were Guardians so it didn't matter. The only real confirmation the media got was purely your fault. You still don't regret it though. You love Mark and Invincible equally!

↯ You all went to Italy on a mission. And being dumb young adults, you followed Mark, Rex, and Eve. Monster Girl tagged along and of course Robot followed to go wine tasting. Wine that you all finished rather quickly. So, there was an image online of a tipsy Electra with her tongue in Invincibles mouth while Atom Eve took a photo with the flash on in the back.

↯ And Invincible instinctively kissed your back, hands holding your face and the corners of his lips turned up in a smile. He didn't even care about the cameras. He pulled back licking his lips before going in for more

↯ There was another flash, and you all realized there were news camera who heard of superheroes wine tasting in Italy. So yeah. They caught that on TV.

↯ And oh boy, was Cecil thrilled when that image came across his desk

↯ But Mark is so unashamed of you that when you all got back and you two were grilled, he proceeded to keep his grasp on your hand. And Cecil couldn't really do shit about it. He knew about the two of you, he would just prefer you two not to be making out on the international news.

↯ That PLUS the fact that Cecil could never tell you what to do. Fuck a part-timer, you were a volunteer. You refused to be sacrificed for white America. You'd hung up on him twice already, he knew better than to try again

↯ Mark loves affection, despite the 'Italy incident' you two did have human lives. And from those human lives you had parents who taught you better than to show your asses in public, let alone on TV so PDA isn't very crazy often unless it's like a party or something.

↯ You two cuddle all the time. In college you were often snuggled up with him, now he often flies to your dorm when he gets the chance and wraps himself around you

↯ He's planting kisses to you every moment he gets, only when he's feeling very affectionate.

↯ You do mostly initiate though, clinging to him like a leech. Especially when he isn't wearing a shirt, good luck getting you off.

↯ You just love your little snowbunny (a name he hates)

↯ He likes to give you things though. Food, clothing, sexy clothing too. You were both grown now, and despite that step you two had yet to take you weren't exactly young and innocent

↯ Those phone calls when one of you were gone over night got very interesting

↯ From apologizing for accidentally touching one of your boobs to now resting his head on them late at night while watching a movie with no cares was a comforting change

↯ Mark gets nasty, the boy has spent his entire life with you and every sexual fantasy he's ever had revolved around you.

↯ It got so severe that his dad (before he decided to go fuck off somewhere) realized he had no attraction to white women at all when he found his computer. That's how he came downstairs one morning, and all his dad said was "maybe you should put a password on your laptop" before he flew off to dodge the conversation with his confused son

↯ Mark went black and never thought of leaving

↯ Mark is more reserved in his thoughts. He tells you things if you ask, but he can be pretty quiet sometimes. He's once sat there for two hours in silence eating crackers and you forgot he was there

↯ But when you get him talking? It's like a faucet. He'll talk about seance dog, he'll talk about his new socks, he'll talk about a dream he had four days ago and just remembered to tell you about

↯ He's also always sending you IG reels. It can be literally anything, but he loves sending those couple memes to you

↯ You use each other's slang, you started saying 'deadass?' and he started saying 'bitch please', with your eyeroll and everything

↯ If Mark gets nasty, there's no word to describe how you get.

↯ The moment you feel the slightest bit turned on; you're rubbing up on Mark. He swears that you're always the one who starts him up and you swear it's his fault for being alive. Who knows?

↯ He's running his hands all over your body, up your shirt and down your pants, he's sucking bruises into your neck. You're pushing him down onto his back, straddling him then pressing your kisses to his neck

↯ It always stopped when one of you felt yourselves losing control. God, forbid you electrocute his dick; God forbid he accidentally breaks your spine from being too rough

↯ Until one night when the liquor got a hold of you both and refused to let go.

↯ It would start with you two stumbling into his bedroom window, sliding out of your mini dress and ripping off his t-shirt

↯ He wants to be gentle with you, he does. But he's a 20-year-old man who's wanted to have sex with you since he started puberty, and you just got finer with age. Even the prospect of you electrocuting him sounded thrilling

↯ He's rolling his hips into you, lips attached to yours while he let his hands roam free. Across your chest, over your curves, over your scars. One sharp moan you let out when he thrusted against your covered crotch snapped him back into his senses

"No no no don't stop!"

"I don't want to hurt you." He reluctantly pulled his hands away from you and you followed him, chasing the feeling of his hands on you.

"Baby, baby please you won't hurt me. Please? If you're not ready we can stop." You whimpered, running a hand over the smooth skin of his chest.

"No, I'm ready!" He's been ready since he could be.

"I've been ready. I don't want to hurt you. That's my biggest fear, hurting you. Especially during sex. I want this to be good for you. I don't want this to be a bad memory and then sex is something we only do once in a while or never again. It's your call." He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes locking. He saw the woman he had grown with and loved through his entire life. Did you see him the same way?

"Baby, I'm basically invincible. You can't hurt me. You would never hurt me, I know that. I want to do this with you. And at this point I really need you." Your voice lowered, planting a kiss to his shoulder blade and he shuddered.

"And I won't electrocute you, I pinky swear! The power might go out, but I take care of myself all the time, you've watched me do it. I can handle it."

You were on your boyfriends lap the next second, feeling what you've been dreaming of pressing against you.

"I might like being electrocuted." He pressed a tender kiss to your lips. His arms shook in anticipation. Two hours later, four blocks lost power, and you were fast asleep in his arms.

#black reader #x black reader #x reader #fem reader #multifandom account #requests open #invincible x reader #invincible characters #invincible #invincible x black reader #mark grayson x black reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #rex splode #rexsplode x readesr #rexsplode x black reader #rex splode smut

184 notes · View notes

himewonu · 2 months ago

Text

UNREQUITED CLUB ; choi seungcheol

summary it’s not good to resort to breaking hearts if you’re afraid to admit you’re still in love with someone else.

starring seungcheol x f! reader

genre angst，fluff (i might be lying)，unrequited love，mutual pining at some point (?)，uni au，reader does fashion designing

contains reader is kinda toxic，same thing with coups (they’re just both not good ppl)，breakups and leading ppl on，based on a true story。。。 sorry 97z

word count 6k ( thankyu sophi for proofreading ) | playlist bad religion by frank ocean, japanese denim by daniel caesar, secret door by arctic monkeys, all because i liked a boy by sabrina carpenter, fluorescent adolescent by arctic monkeys, green by 12bh, toxic till the end by rosé, first love by sondia

from rhin，this was originally gonna be a smau oneshot but i need to clear my penalties😭 (only 2k words left🗣️) anyways this fic is dedicated to my friend who doesnt have blr but her bias is scoups and she hates the dude cheol is based on😹😊🫰

You always thought you could do well with love. As a kid, you dreamed of marrying a prince after watching way too many princess movies. As you got older—going into middle school—your standards changed once you discovered a few dramas. A lot of them happened to have male lead CEOs, so you wanted a hot, rich man instead.

Eventually, those fantasies died down once you ended middle school. The boys you’ve encountered made you lower your standards and began to think that all boys were full of shit. But you figured you’d find better when you’re an adult. Sure, you’ve found at least some guys cute, but you knew way too much about them to never find yourself together with them.

It was only then that the first year of high school changed something in you. You knew a few older kids since you were family friends with them, and some of them had friends that would tag along. One of those friends happened to be Seungcheol. He was in tenth grade when you met him—just a year older than you. Always smiling and always said kind words.

From there, you’ve been crushing on him. You always thought he was different from all the other boys you’ve liked before. But you figured it was more of a you problem. You remember how you couldn’t even say a word to any guy you liked back then. However, talking to Seungcheol was a piece of cake. You two were close, and others always told you that they think he makes it obvious he likes you.

Back then, you wouldn’t dare to tell him how you felt. He was way out of your league, and you recall that he mentioned not being interested in dating. Plus, you liked it when you thought of him as a friend more than a crush. But like they say, the more you suppress the feelings, the stronger it gets.

Your feelings towards him lasted until his final year of high school. He was graduating soon, so you figured it was time to confess to him. You were hoping for a rejection, but he ended up reciprocating the feelings. Or, so you thought. Just a week before his graduation, he admitted to you that when he said he liked you, he meant it as friends.

He didn’t mean to hurt you, but all you could ever think of was how much he disappointed you. For a few days, you ghosted him, until the day before he graduated, he wanted to talk to you. Although he never liked you in that way, he still liked you as a friend. Neither of you wanted your friendship to be ruined all because of that.

You ended up attending his graduation, since you thought it would be mean not to show up to a friend’s important day. It was a bit sad though; you realized your final year of high school would feel a little bit empty. But you reassured yourself that you’d use that time to get over him, because he promised you that it’s okay if you still like him since getting over takes time.

So about doing well with love right now, you’re certain you’re ready for it. You hope you’re at least ready for it.

“I gave your number to Mingyu,” your friend brings up. You two were talking about the men in your biochemistry class, saying how they were either too old or too mid. There were only a few guys who weren’t too bad, and your friend gave your number to one of them.

“Mingyu? As in biochem Mingyu?” You quickly got up from lying down on her bed, looking dead into her eyes in case she was joking with you.

“Yes, that Mingyu. He’s been eyeing you for quite some time, so I told him I can get him with you.”

You wish you could tell her you’re not too sure about this. You have some mixed feelings; a part of you says to YOLO it, but another part is hesitating about it, and you’re not sure what is exactly stopping you. Mingyu is a nice guy, very nerdy, and tall. Lots of girls want him, but it turns out he wants you. What’s the worst that can happen?

A notification from an unknown number pops up on your phone. The message was from Mingyu, and he was asking you out to lunch some time. It took you a while to respond since you and your friend were getting giddy over it. But you ended up agreeing to have lunch with him.

The lunch date with him wasn’t too bad. He was super sweet when you two were conversing. He always kept complimenting you, and it made your heart skip a beat. He did it often, and your pounding heart began to feel sort of different. You weren’t feeling quite ecstatic, but you figured you were just nervous.

From there, you’ve gone on several dates with him, and at this point, you’re just waiting for him to ask you to be his girlfriend. There’s no rush; he’s probably not ready, so you might as well wait for him. The more dates you go on with him, the more you’re hoping he doesn’t ask you. But on one date, he ends up asking you to be his girlfriend, and without thinking before speaking, you immediately say yes.

You never told anyone except your friend about the two of you being together, and you never found yourself with him during biochemistry. You weren’t too sure why you did that, but the relationship ended when you told him you couldn’t give him the same amount of love he gave you. That was only because you found yourself staring at Seungcheol for only two seconds. Your relationship with Mingyu lasted for only two months.

When you told your friend about the breakup, she was surprised that you didn’t cry about it. She kept pestering you to tell her why you broke up with him, only to get a vague response from you that you just felt bad. You weren’t sure if it was the pang of guilt for staring at Seungcheol or the fact that you didn’t actually like Mingyu, but you were sure it had to do something with Seungcheol.

“Hah, Cheol just sent me another stupid brain-rotted reel,” you say out loud to your friend, scrolling through Instagram on your phone while she does the same.

“Seungcheol? I thought you said you guys don’t text anymore." Your friend’s curiosity piqued right when you mentioned that name.

“No, no. We don’t text like that anymore, but we send reels here and there. He probably just does it to annoy me or infiltrate our DMs. The only time he ever texts me is when he’s waiting for me by the studio,” you tell her, not realising she never knew that you always meet up with him at the end of the day.

“He’s the one giving you rides on Tuesdays? I thought that was Mingyu.”

“Nope. Seungcheol takes the same route going to the dorms, so he offered to give me rides once a week.”

“Is that why you broke up with Mingyu?” Your friend’s question makes your eyes go wide. You close your phone and get up from resting on her headboard to look at her properly.

“I–” You don’t want to continue your words; it’s most likely something you wouldn’t want to hear, especially if it’s about Seungcheol. “I’m… starving. Let’s eat first and talk about that later,” you mutter, hoping she forgets about it later on.

You never ended up talking to her about that, and you hope she never brings it up.

Seungcheol places a cup of coffee on the table in front of you. You were resting your head on the table, but immediately lifted up when Seungcheol sat next to you. “You look like you were dying today, so I got you some energy.” You thank him for the drink and start downing it like you were parched for days.

He picks up your notebook and starts analyzing the draft you drew. “What’s this for?” He asks, pointing at the lazy sketch of a jacket.

“It’s for my fashion properties assignment. We have to make an outfit out of fabric given to us. Mine is leather, so I’ve been brainstorming how to make this jacket look cute but comfy. I already drew the skirt for it.”

“I think you can easily come up with something. Your designs are cool and leather looks hard to work with, but you’re always dedicated,” Seungcheol assures you, hoping you don’t crash out in front of him over this.

You scoff. “Hah, what do you know about fashion?” Pointing out his every-day lazy black hoodie and grey sweat pants combination.

“Okay, not everyone wants to wake up early and choose what to pair their tops with their bottoms! Some just pull out whatever they have,” he rolls his eyes.

“You would not survive fashion school,” you joke, making Seungcheol huff but grin. As much as he can be annoying and get annoyed by you, he’ll never take a joke seriously.

If only he knew how much he makes your day by his annoyance.

Life was calm. You were so close to finishing the leather jacket, only having to attach the pockets, but you decided to take a break and finish it another day. You still had to work on the skirt, but you had plenty of time—grateful that this project is due in six months.

While waiting in the mall for your friends to come back from the washroom, you were sitting down and sketching out a new design in your journal.

You were thinking of making a top for your friend since her birthday was coming up soon. She would definitely like a sweatshirt. Your name gets called out, turning your head in that direction, and you see your friends walk out the washroom.

The three of you walk around, thinking of what stores to check out. Jiwon brings up going to the shoe store nearby, so the two of you follow her. You roam around the store, looking at the different kinds of shoes. Platforms, Mary Janes, sneakers, boots, all kinds that were in your size and style.

“…Yo what the heck? I didn’t know you work here.” You overhear Jiwon. She was talking to one of the workers, most likely a friend of hers. He’s tall and kind of cute. His glasses sit on the top of his head, and you caught him glancing at you while talking to your friend.

You avert your eyes to the black loafers, picking it up as you examine them. Your other friend goes up to you and asks your opinion if she should get brown boots or black boots. After she tried both on, you told her to get the black pair since she already owns a brown one.

As you accompany your friend to the check-out, Jiwon goes up to you and says she needs to go buy some makeup after this. You looked at her friend, who was standing by the counter, catching him staring at you again. He quickly turns his head and walks away.

It only took a week later to meet Jiwon’s friend again at a café. You were sitting alone by the window and still sketching out the top for your friend, so focused that you didn’t notice someone was standing in front of you.

“Can I sit here?” He asks, making you look up. You nod and go back to sticking your head into your journal. He sits in the chair facing and starts a conversation. “You’re one of Jiwon’s friends, right?”

You put your pencil down and look at him. “Yeah, and you are?”

“Dokyeom,” he introduces himself with a smile, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

You shake his hand. “(Name).”

You got to know a lot about him and talked about how the both of you met Jiwon. He was her classmate since high school, and you met her in your fashion design courses. You ended up exchanging numbers, and the moment you left to go back home, you spammed your friend with multiple messages.

As usual, you laid on her bed while you yapped to her about him. It’s always been this way with every guy you both encounter since your high school days. You talked for a while, not even realising it was already midnight—at least it’s a weekend night.

You spoke to Dokyeom very often. Always texting during your lectures and even calling at night. Sometimes you would even call him while you were sewing. There was something familiar about him every time you talked, and it felt nice.

One time you were on call, he asked you about your ideal type. You never really had an ideal type, so you said common traits all your crushes had from the top of your head. “Someone tall, kind, and a cute smile too. I’d want them to be smart and productive as well.”

"So...me basically,” he jokes. You agreed without a thought and that conversation started your relationship with Dokyeom.

You really like him. He was kind and entertaining. He was always fun to your friends and was nice to everyone. He always took you out on dates and took you home. Unlike Mingyu, Dokyeom made sure that the world knew you were his.

He really loved you and wanted to show everyone that he did. And by every one, he meant every one. The news got to Seungcheol one day and it all just stopped. The daily brain-rotted reels he sends you ended up being three times a week.

He barely got a response from you to the reels, and you only reacted to the messages. He slowed them down and sent them to you once a week. The only time you responded to a reel he sent, he left your message on ‘seen’, and then stopped sending you reels.

It’s not that he hated you or anything. He just knew you had a boyfriend now, so he didn’t want to go against your relationship’s boundaries. He would still pick you up every Tuesday, but the car ride conversations were always about school now or sometimes silent. He never asked about Dokyeom, and you never brought him up.

Being distant with Seungcheol kind of hurt, but you knew you were just getting over him and Dokyeom was there to help you. Or so you thought. Somehow, there would be conversations you have with Dokyeom, and you would absentmindedly bring up Seungcheol.

The first time you did, he asked who he was, and he didn’t sound jealous, just curious. You explained that he was just an old crush from high school and that he was basically a distant friend to you now.

He got more curious about him so you showed him his profile once. He looked through his account and started saying how you downgraded so much, pointing out Seungcheol’s physique.

You didn’t want Dokyeom to be hurt, so you began assuring him that he was much better than Seungcheol. You admit that Seungcheol played you back in high school and that he’s not even all that. Ever since that, you would bring down Seungcheol.

You were convinced you disliked Seungcheol, but Dokyeom always thought otherwise. Even though you would talk badly about him, your boyfriend still listened to you talk about him.

“I think you still like him,” Dokyeom brings up while you were ranting about what Seungcheol did to you in your junior year of high school. You were taken aback and denied so quickly. “You talk about him more than me,” he mutters. You apologized and assured him that you care about him more than Seungcheol.

“You know it’s okay if you still like him,” he considered.

“No!” You retorted. “That’s just morally wrong! Why would I like another man while I’m in a relationship?! I don’t like him anymore, and I never will. I have you now, and you already make me happy.”

Dokyeom still wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to see you angry again, so he just nodded and patted your head.

Another time you brought up Seungcheol was when Dokyeom asked you who your first love was. When you admitted it was Seungcheol, he already knew since you always talked about him. When you asked him who his first love was, all he did was point at you, and that already made you regret saying your answer.

I never will. You said that in hopes you won’t ruin your relationship because of an old crush. Why do you always find yourself talking about Seungcheol anyway? He did you so wrong, and you’re sure he doesn’t care about you. Why was he even your first love?!

A week later, you realized you were lying. After you told Seungcheol he doesn’t need to drop you off at your dorm anymore since Dokyeom could take you there, you ended up deleting his contact on your phone and unfollowing his Instagram. But after one car ride with your boyfriend, you thought about Seungcheol and what he really means to you. Dokyeom was right.

You went to Jiwon for advice about it, and she figured he would want you to admit it to him since all he wants is for you to be happy. That night, you confessed to Dokyeom that you still had feelings for Seungcheol, but it was only 1%—since 99% is for your boyfriend.

However, the more you saw Seungcheol, the feelings kept growing more. You never told Dokyeom, but you didn’t want to keep hurting him. On one random Monday afternoon, you met up with him at the same café you first met him and broke up with him on the spot. You never wanted to admit it was about Seungcheol, so all you told him was that you were just the problem in the relationship—which was true.

Your relationship with Dokyeom only lasted for six months, but for some reason, you felt relieved and free. It only took you a few days to realize that Dokyeom reminded you of Seungcheol, and you used him to fill that empty void since senior year. But no matter how loving Dokyeom was to you, you secretly hoped it was Seungcheol instead.

Guilt held onto you and convinced you that you were a bad person at this point. You knew you were going to die alone, but honestly, you’d rather have that than break someone’s heart again. Not only were you single—which you could care less about—you were still distant with Seungcheol.

You tried not to care, but every time you saw him on campus, it always hurt to think about how distant you two are. It got to a point where you walked past him and neither of you said hi. You figured he hated you until you once had a dream about him when you got a fever.

You were at a party, and all of a sudden Seungcheol’s friends made fun of you. You blamed it on him and left the party. The scene changed, and you were walking with your friend to your next lecture. As you walked down the halls, you noticed your mother’s friend was with someone, so you greeted her, not bothered by the fact that your “aunt” was at your university. That someone she was with ended up being Seungcheol. When he smiled and waved at you, you frowned and ignored him as you walked away.

You instantly jolted awake, sweating real bad as the headache you had earlier stopped. You looked at the time, 4:27. It’s Tuesday, and around this time, you would wait for Seungcheol to pick you up. You thought a lot about the dream and how you were so mean to him in that dream.

“I don’t want to hate him anymore,” you think to yourself. You open your phone to Instagram, look up his username, and immediately hit follow. Then you go to your contacts and type his number to remake his contact in your phone—still remembering his number and putting it in your phone like the first time you two exchanged numbers.

Right when he followed you back three minutes later, you sent him a message about how you don’t like the two of you becoming distant and wanting to start over as friends. He agrees, and you ask to see him over lunch.

The next day you met up with him for lunch, and he was still the same annoying Seungcheol: always watching brain-rotted reels while you two talk and always teasing you. It feels nice to have this back, and you’re glad the two of you are not going to be distant anymore. Well, you thought you two were on bad terms, but everyone, including him, never thought that. It should’ve hit you that he could never hate anyone, so what would make him hate you?

After that, you went to the design studio thinking about Seungcheol. You really do like being friends with him, and you’re sure you don’t like him romantically. You soon realized that you didn’t need to bring him down in order to get over him. Today made you realise why he’s your first love.

You finally finished the leather jacket and the skirt. You never realized how you never got to finish the outfit while you were with Dokyeom, but only being able to finish it when you were alone. The good part of being a single fashion designer is that you have a lot of time for yourself to design anything.

The bad part, though, is that people like you always make apparel for others but yourself. It took you a while to notice that the leather jacket was too oversized for the skirt. It’s a men’s jacket, and the measurements were for Seungcheol.

After handing in your design, you finally took some time to design something for yourself. Maybe some jeans or a cute sweater. Since Valentine's Day was coming up and you and your friends were invited to a party that day, you had an excuse to make a whole outfit for yourself.

You took several days brainstorming and sketching out what to wear, but you finally settled on something simple. Maybe you were too focused on creating your outfit that you didn’t realise Valentine’s Day was about love, and all of sudden all your friends had a date to the party.

“I can’t believe we’re the only ones without a date!” Your friend complains. “Even Jiwon is going with that red head guy!”

“Hey, we have each other. You should wear that top I made for you for your birthday.”

“I definitely will.”

The both of you lie down on her bed, except this time you’re not talking about guys. It’s not bad to not have a date, but you’ll be disgusted if you see your friends all over their dates.

“Hey, it’s kind of ironic how all our friends’ dates are all friends too. And they have three guys who still don’t have a date.”

“Yeah, no. Saerom tried setting me up with Junhui because she thought we’d be perfect for each other, but he keeps sending me cat photos. And didn’t he like everyone?”

“Yikes. I forgot his friend group is odd.” Right when you brought that up, you get a text from Minghao, Jun’s cousin. He asks you if you already have a date to the party, and you reply with a no. The only person from that friend group you can tolerate is Minghao. He’s pretty much normal, but he’s just a friend.

Minghao then asks you if you want to go with him to the party. “Oh, wow, Minghao is asking me out,” you say to your friend. “What should I say?”

“Yes! Are you crazy (Name)?”

“What about you, though?”

“I’ll be fine. I have Hayoung since she doesn’t want to go with anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s not going to show up.”

“Still. Just go with him!”

You sigh and send him a thumbs up. A part of you only wants to do this for the fun of it, but another part of you doesn’t want to since you like being alone.

The day of the party rolls by, and you just finished up the dress you were making for it. All your friends agreed you were all going there together. You quickly made a few adjustments to your dress in the car, putting the pack of pins in your handbag. If there’s one thing you can’t go out in public without, it’s a sewing kit.

You arrive at the house where it was being held, and you see several people entering. When you all entered the house, your friends easily found their dates and you met up with Minghao.

You honestly just wanted to stay with your friend, so you stuck with her as Minghao followed behind with his friend. No matter how many times you wanted to be with your friend, your other friends and his friends always pushed you into Minghao’s arms and took pictures.

You felt that same pang of guilt when you were with Mingyu and Dokyeom. You know that feeling a bit too well, and all you want to do is leave the party with your friend. You eventually gave up and just stuck with Minghao for a while.

As you left him to go get a drink, you bumped into Seungcheol, who you thought doesn’t go to parties like these. "Hey, I thought your mom banned you from going to parties." He mentioned as you two walked to the kitchen.

“I thought you don’t go to parties? And my mom doesn't care anymore.”

“My friends convinced me to go here.” He picks up his phone, and his screen reveals ‘Mingyu’ as the person calling him, making your heart drop. He answers the call, hanging up seconds later. “Which, speaking of, are looking for me. I’ll see you around (Name)!” He walks the other way, and you leave the kitchen without a drink in your hand, only leaving with a pounding heart.

You went back to Minghao and told him you were going to go home with your friend, and you left him without giving him a chance to say goodbye. Honestly, you hope Seungcheol didn’t see you with him and hope that none of your friends upload those photos.

You looked for your friend and left the house together. Instead of going back to the dorms, you two just walked to the nearest convenience store to just hang out and calm down.

“So you don’t like Minghao?” Your friend asks as you look through the candies in the candy aisle of the store.

“I like him as a friend, just not in that way.” You confirmed, picking up a pack of gummy bears and following your friend to the drink aisle.

“I heard Saerom’s man was the one encouraging Minghao to ask you,” she points out.

“Junhui got pissed at me because I took his last person he was going to be with, like I kept telling him he can have his cousin!”

“What made you want to leave, by the way?”

You stayed silent as you watched her think of what beverage to buy. She looks back, waiting for an answer. “I think it’s because of me.”

She picks out an orange soda, and you two make your way to the cashier. “What do you mean?” She asks, in the middle of paying.

“I think I just like being single.” You two leave the store and sit down at a table right outside, placing your stuff on the table.

“And that’s okay. It’s not bad being single,” she assures, putting down the drink and holding your hand with one hand.

“I know it’s not. I just don’t do well with love; I keep hurting guys.”

“I can tell. I was there when Mingyu asked for your number, when Dokyeom said he was your ideal type, and when Minghao asked you out.”

You sigh and chuckle after. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m such a manipulator. I just led on three guys.”

“(Name) as much as I love you, that’s not something to be proud of.” You nod in response, repeatedly muttering a bunch of ‘I know’ to her. “You always keep saying it’s about you and your emotions. But have you ever considered it’s about Seungcheol?”

This is what your friend has wanted to discuss since your days with Mingyu. You knew your breakups were because of Seungcheol, but you never realized it wasn’t him, it was about him. That feeling in your heart you had earlier when you saw your ex’s name on his phone brings you back to freshman year.

You like Seungcheol.

“I think I still like Seungcheol,” you admit to your friend.

“All because you saw him earlier? Cause I saw you two talking in the kitchen,” she brings up about that little interaction that made you aware of your feelings.

“No. I think I always liked him, but I was in denial about it. Just think about it. I caught myself staring at Seungcheol while I was with Mingyu. Dokyeom told me I talk about him a lot. And well, Minghao never reminded me of him.”

“I figured. Whenever I asked you if you were going to be with your man, you were a bit soulless. No offence, but you were never excited when you talked about them. Now that I think about you, when you were with them, you never talked about them at all to us.”

You lowered your head, mentally slapping yourself for doing that. “It was so different from Seungcheol though. Every time you looked at Seungcheol and talked to him, it wasn’t the same with the others. I saw stars in your eyes. You didn’t like him; you were in love with him.”

Your friend is still holding onto your hand, ignoring the fact that you’re in the middle of having a heart to heart in front of a convenience store.

“(Name), I think all you needed was to be honest with yourself. It’s okay to love Seungcheol. No matter how many hearts you break, you’re not a bad person. It just shows how caring you are. You can still be friends with him even if all our friends hate him. Even though I think what he did to you back in junior year was so messed up, you were so strong to go through that heartbreak. You are amazing and loving, and I want you to tell that to yourself every day.”

With your free hand, you cover your eyes with it. Your friend gave you tissue paper from her bag, as she was quick to notice that you were tearing up. She moves herself closer and brings you into her arms.

“Choi Seungcheol is one lucky man to have you love him.”

You got your leather jacket and skirt back, getting a 98% on it. As long as you got over the nineties for it, you’re happy. You only lost a few points for making it a men’s jacket instead of a women’s jacket.

Since you got the jacket back, it would make sense to give it to Seungcheol since it’s clearly his size only. Your friendship with Seungcheol has been calm ever since that heart-to-heart with your friend. He still picks you up from the studio, but instead of taking you to your dorms, you two go on little side quests for fun.

The weather has been getting warmer, so you two would go wherever to hang around outside. He picked up a hobby of taking photos due to a friend of his gifting him a camera. So every time he would drop you off at the dormitory, he would take a picture of you in front of the building.

“Open your sweater so you can show off the new shirt you made,” he requests, looking at you through the lens as he watches you zip down your sweater. You made an unserious shirt, printing a picture of a sock monkey on it.

After hearing camera clicks, he puts the camera down. “Cute outfit,” he points out.

“And we need to work on your closet!” You tease.

He rolls his eyes and tells you good night, driving off when you tell him to rest well tonight. Right when you turn around, you face Jeonghan, who happens to be one of Seungcheol’s friends and lives on the floor above you.

“Wow, and Jisun said there was going on between you two,” he remarks. If there was anyone nosy about you two, it would be Jeonghan. According to Jisun, several guys—including Jeonghan—would ask about you and Seungcheol, some of whom she didn’t even know by name.

"Yeah, cause we’re friends,” you confirm, heading to the elevator as Jeonghan follows you in.

“I asked Seungcheol if he still likes you, and he said he likes you as a friend only.”

Even though you’re quite annoyed by him, you still manage to respond to that. “Well, he never had feelings for me, so he’s valid for that. Plus, I like it that way.”

“So you can’t be delusional anymore,” he jeers as the elevator comes to a stop on your floor. You step out of the elevator, hoping Jeonghan just minds his own business and stays in there.

“I like being his friend anyway, Yoon Jeonghan,” you mimic his tone as you watch the doors close in front of him.

You’re not wrong with your words, though. You love being friends with Seungcheol.

Seungcheol and you are on your usual side quests after he picks you up from the studio. This time there were bands performing at a nearby park, so you went there to chill. You brought the jacket, but held onto it considering he’s going to assume it’s yours.

As you picked a spot to sit down, there was already music and the sky was getting dark soon—before that, you two went to feast yourselves with cheap ramen and an unhealthy amount of soda.

You hand him the jacket without saying anything; he takes it with a puzzled expression displayed. “It’s the leather jacket I was designing a few months ago. I accidentally made it your size,” you speak up, smiling as you watch his perplexed expression turn into an ecstatic smile.

“Accidentally? Or did you intentionally make it for me?” He jokes as he puts it on, making you push his shoulder.

“This is going to be the last time I’ll ever make you something.” You snootily look away. He laughs and apologizes—always apologizing after he makes fun of you.

You two stayed silent as you swayed to the music. It’s calm and sweet. You could stay in this moment forever, nothing and no one to bother you. Right now could be a good time for Seungcheol to make another stupid joke, but he seems to be enjoying the music too.

This is what you need. Nothing romantic with him, but close to him. The sky was dark, and you pointed out the fairy lights hanging around the trees. Seungcheol lies down his head on the grass, now staring at the sky, as you follow along.

“Sky is too cloudy to see stars,” he mentions. You avert your eyes from the sky to him, turning your head to comfortably gaze at him. He was still looking up. You don’t expect him to look back; he never does. But you enjoy this, just intaking his unforgettable face.

“Thank you, (Name),” he mutters, “for coming here with me.”

You don’t respond right away, still listening to the music. “Of course, but I’m sorry,” you let out, now turning your head to gaze up at the sky again.

“Sorry for what?” He asks, your no-context apology makes him look at you now, watching you stare at the non-existing stars—just like his love for you.

“Still being in love with you.”

svt masterlist .ᐟ

#[ macaworkz ]#k-films #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #scoups x reader #scoups x you #seventeen x you #svt x you #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen angst #svt angst #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol

199 notes · View notes