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lilacs-stars · 7 months ago

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burning passion of twilight

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)

A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!

“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt.

Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it.

Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side.

He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more.

Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him.

Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers.

Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions.

The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate.

Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron.

“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”

You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either.

The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”

His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…

“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you.

You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions.

You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.

School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath.

This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.

Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out.

You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.

“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”

There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve.

“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face.

Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”

Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor.

And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides.

He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him.

James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze.

“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back.

“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”

“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”

James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.

“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face.

“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”

At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm.

“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising.

“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”

“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.

Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there.

“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems.

You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours.

You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan.

You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else.

“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you.

“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

Well, damn it.

You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.

“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice.

“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.

You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”

“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”

His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself.

“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”

You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”

At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”

You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm.

“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”

Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right.

“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”

Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him.

“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run.

Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”

He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James.

Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.

You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”

Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”

Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response.

“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall.

People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.

“...fighting…”

“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”

“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”

You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.

“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”

James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.

You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.

You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.

“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.

Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”

James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”

Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”

Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal.

James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm.

This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight.

You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.

Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…

…directly at James’s head.

A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.

James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on.

With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.

The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.

You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.

“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.

“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.

“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide.

Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.

James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…

…but doesn’t ever reach it.

Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.

“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”

The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.

You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”

A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him.

You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”

“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.

“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”

“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

“Even for dueling Pan?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”

“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”

You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.

“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “Let’s just say, a little birdie told me of how he harassed you in class earlier today. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”

You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.

“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”

“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.

“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.

James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”

You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.

James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap.

You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.

You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.

Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.

The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.

You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.

end x

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venus-haze · 4 months ago

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Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you.

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.”

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

#father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #father charlie smut #father charlie grotesquerie #grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew #battie kinktober 2024

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andvys · 10 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.

Word count: 10k+

Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost.

You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason.

But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger.

The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost.

Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground.

You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t.

“This day sucks.”

These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.

“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures.

You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now.

When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge.

A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.”

She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief.

“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke.

A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.”

She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?”

You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.”

Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes.

“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!”

“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look.

“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper.

“You’re not even twenty yet–”

“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”

Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”

“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.”

She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.”

Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”

You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”

“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own.

“Hey, Max?”

She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question.

“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?”

She smiles a little and nods her head.

“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.”

“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands.

You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice.

“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat.

Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror.

“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”

Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows.

“Shut up, dude.”

“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before.

His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”

“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him.

Max snorts at the glare on your face.

“Yes, mom.”

Eddie and Dustin chuckle.

Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin.

“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you.

“No, I don’t!”

“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder.

“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.”

You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you.

“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”

“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”

“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…”

The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now.

Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything.

You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.

Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.”

You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him.

“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.”

He squints his eyes at you.

“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks.

“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs.

“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?”

All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh.

You shake your head at him when he starts laughing.

“You’re such a menace.”

Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot.

You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you.

The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road.

The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts.

The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.

He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.

The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air.

Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry.

Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since.

Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost.

Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort.

A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen.

“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him.

He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend.

“Sure, have fun.”

Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.”

She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”

“Yeah, I will, in a second.”

“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling.

“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body.

Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”

Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look.

“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens.

“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.”

Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her.

He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend.

Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips.

“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her.

Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him.

His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest.

He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you.

You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him.

Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls.

He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically.

Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.

Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible.

Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you.

Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did.

You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before.

There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him.

It doesn’t scare him anymore.

He embraces the weakness now.

Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily.

He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his.

The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you.

“Hi Stevie,” you say softly.

He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see.

“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer.

The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer.

“I missed you.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before.

You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie.

But you missed him.

You missed him, like he missed you.

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his.

“I missed you too, Blondie.”

He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly.

His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him.

He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you.

Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night.

Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once.

Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you.

As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you.

And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips.

He could melt into a puddle, right then and there.

Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst.

You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look.

He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you.

Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face.

“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile.

“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.”

He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”

“I want something else now.”

“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows.

You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.

“No, I think I had too much already.”

“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?”

“No, just thirsty.”

“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily.

Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you.

He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly.

He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious.

Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out.

And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you.

He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you.

You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear.

You are so cute like this.

He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too.

Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so.

You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter.

“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm.

“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass.

You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk.

“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”

Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something.

“What kind of beer?”

You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it.

You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”

Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again.

“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you.

“Billy did,” you shrug.

Oh.

His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes.

You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day.

He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair.

But you seem fine, happy even.

If only he knew that he is the reason for it.

“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks.

“Yeah,” Steve nods.

“Do you want to watch them with me?”

His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips.

Of course he does.

“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”

Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these.

Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now.

You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess.

Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again.

He could fall to his knees right here, right now.

Is this the real you?

Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world?

Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain?

Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers.

He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?”

“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”

He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.

The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you.

It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you.

Steve Harrington is down bad.

Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face.

You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features.

He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change.

“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.

“What, letting him keep the change?”

You nod and let go of his hand to open your can.

“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him.

Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face.

“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle.

“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”

You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once.

You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours.

He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.

You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been.

How come he never asked you out?

He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued.

And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you.

Could’ve things been different then?

Would you have fallen in love with him?

Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago?

The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers.

“This spot is perfect.”

You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand.

Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough.

You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.”

He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”

Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before.

You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle.

He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”

You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless.

You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.”

You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”

You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips.

Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more.

“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek.

“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”

Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant.

“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”

Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards.

Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”

You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.

Steve can’t help but laugh.

“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.

His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest.

“He really didn’t like me, huh?”

“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly.

Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out?

Would Billy keep you away from him?

“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head.

He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart.

“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain.

You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words.

His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily.

“I–”

Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.

You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again.

But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment.

Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe.

His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now.

“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors.

His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually.

He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this.

“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him.

You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.

Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely.

Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red.

And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss.

You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips.

Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with.

A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust.

Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him.

Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more.

This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss.

A kiss that means everything.

A kiss that changes everything.

You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being.

And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.

And he embraces the feeling fully.

He wants more of this, more of you.

He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself.

It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more.

The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky.

Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration.

Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.

Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions.

Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time.

“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest.

“Yes?”

“Can I be with you tonight?”

He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night.

“Of course, Blondie.”

You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose.

“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up.

You shake your head again, “just really tired.”

Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system.

“Let’s go home then.”

“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”

Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”

The smile on your lips replaces the frown.

He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly.

“Come on, we should tell Eddie.”

You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now.

It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud.

Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you.

He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze.

“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.

Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness.

“There you are!”

Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you.

Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side.

“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face.

You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle.

“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time.

“Peachy!”

“Where have you been?”

Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”

Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve.

“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs.

“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him.

Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly.

“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.”

Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead.

“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.”

Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”

That… Stings.

That actually hurts his feelings.

He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this.

“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.

Eddie sighs.

Of course he doesn’t.

He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings.

Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused.

“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.”

“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly.

Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh.

“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”

Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you.

He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick.

Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you.

“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”

Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already.

He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest.

Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you.

“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”

Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.”

Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away.

“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him.

“Bye Eddie!”

“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you.

Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him.

He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that.

You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car.

Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle.

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn.

“Let's get you into bed, honey.”

Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze.

And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly.

Everything about you drives him crazy today.

Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss.

You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours.

And now, he wants to give you everything.

He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you.

You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.

Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.

Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together.

He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.

When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.

“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.

“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.

He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…

But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?

“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.

“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.

“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.

He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only.

“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper.

And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.

It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world.

And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.

“What now?”

“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it.

You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”

“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”

He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses.

And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face.

You are cute. You are so fucking cute.

It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying.

Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol.

“There, now you know.”

You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again.

You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.

He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it.

“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.

“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.

He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.

So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.

Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest.

He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.

And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.

Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.

He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–

It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.

“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht — chapter fifteen #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things angst

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man-i-love-fanfiction · 3 months ago

Text

Double Babysitter - Hozier x fem! reader

Summary: You and Andrew end up with the tough task of babysitting your friend's child together.

Word Count: 6,325

Author’s Note: hi hi hi!!!! this is my first real fanfic, i’ve written little things here or there but this is the only full fic i’ve written. shoutout to the wonderful @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading this, im so grateful for u! this is based on the Bluey episode Double Babysitter, it's not required watching but if you want to watch it to understand the fic better you can. i hope you enjoy!!!

ALSO: I do not know Hozier in real life, nor do i claim to. This is a fictionalized (ish) version of him. All other characters featured are fictional. Now, enjoy!

fic under the cut <3

Andrew was always vaguely aware of the fact that he was getting older. He had spotted the occasional gray patch in his stubble, noticed a faint wrinkle somewhere on his face. He even felt his back ache every now and again, but he had always brushed it off.

It wasn't until he had been asked by an old friend from college to babysit his daughter that he can say he actually felt old.

Of course, he wasn't complaining. He had met the young girl only a few times, but to say she held a special place in his heart would be an understatement. He had just finished up the last leg of his tour, so he had all the time in the world back at home. And he did owe Liam and Quinn, her parents, a favor. They deserved to have a night out just the two of them; watching their daughter was the least he could do.

He took this responsibility very seriously. He was even on time, arriving at 6pm on the dot, as instructed (given, it was only because he told himself he had to be there at 5:30).

He walked up to their doorstep, gave their door a few light knocks, and stepped back. It took a moment, but he could hear his friend’s voice call for Quinn through the door before watching it unlock. Liam opened the door with a puzzled expression that had Andrew wondering if he somehow showed up on the wrong day.

“Andrew, you're here… on time? Are you feeling okay?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” He replied sarcastically, accompanied by an eye roll. They greeted each other, Liam widened the door, and Andrew stepped inside.

“Honey, the babysitter’s here!” Liam shouted up the staircase. Quinn quickly emerged with open arms and gave Andrew a quick squeeze once she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Andrew! It's great to see you. How long has it been?” She asked.

“About… six months, I’d say. The week before I left for the States.”

“That's much too long. We need to actually go out sometime soon.”

They spent a few minutes standing around and catching up, swapping stories about their jobs (including a concert story or two). It gave Andrew a moment to appreciate these smaller, mundane moments that seemed to slowly be becoming a rarity. He was mid-sentence when he was caught off guard by the pitter-patter of small footsteps rushing towards him.

“Uncle Andy!” He glanced down, finding a little girl already latched on to his leg; Katie, the reason he’d been asked to babysit. He reached down to pat her head, ruffling the little one’s hair.

“Hey there, lass! How are you?”

A muffled noise that sounded something like ‘I’m good’ came from the girl as she buried her face in his leg.

His sentence was cut off at the sound of another knock at the door.

“That's odd. I don't think I’m expecting anyone-” Quinn started, interrupted by Liam opening the door to find you standing on their front step. You didn’t even notice the surprised looks on everyone’s faces as you entered, blindsided by your excitement.

“Hey,” you said, giving Liam a side hug before moving on to Quinn and doing the same. Katie let go of Andrew’s leg and rushed over to you, joyfully screaming your name. A wide grin grew on your face at the sight of her, and Andrew couldn’t help but notice how beautiful your smile was. He immediately snapped himself out of it once he realized he had no idea who you were, let alone what you were even doing here.

“Hi, Katie Cat!” you exclaimed. He watched as you pulled her into an embrace, not noticing his presence until you pulled away. You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, smile fading in awe.

“Y/N, this is my Uncle Andy,” Katie explained as she held on to your hand, quickly dragging you towards him until there was maybe a foot between you two before pointing upwards. A thought flashed across Andrew’s mind: Is this five-year-old playing matchmaker?

“Hi.”

“Have you met my friend Andrew before?” Liam asked.

“You do seem familiar. Didn’t you get drunk and sing Take Me To Church at the wedding?”

“Probably.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, I am so sorry. I think I double-booked myself and accidentally asked both of you to watch Katie,” Quinn admitted. “Again, so sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”

“It’s alright. He got here first. I’ll just go, then. Leave you to it,” you decided, admittedly a little disappointed but understanding the whole scenario. You took a step back, turning to go before a small hand grabbed yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don't go! You can both stay.” Katie begged, puppy dog eyes in full effect. It's like she knew exactly how to tug on your heartstrings, because after that you were willing to stay for as long as she wanted. But you still needed permission.

“I mean, as long as it's okay with… Uncle Andy.”

Andrew gave you a nod, perhaps a bit too quickly. He couldn't tell if it was because he already knew he was going to need help with this, or because he simply wanted to be in your company. Either way, both were true.

“Two babysitters it is.” He conceded.

“Hooray!” She yelled, latching herself onto your leg as she had done to Andrew's just moments before. You looked down at her, a warm smile returning to your face, before looking back up at him. All three of you could tell this was going to be… an interesting night, to say the least.

Before they left, Liam and Quinn had given you two very lenient instructions. All you had to do was put Katie to bed by 8:30 and watch the house until they got home around 10. Everything else was fair game. Easy enough of a job for two grown adults. However, the way that your night started at their kitchen table made you wonder if perhaps their rules were too permissive.

You were sat across from each other, you and Andrew on the same side, Katie on the other. It oddly felt like you were being interrogated by this small child. Which, after offering a game of 20 questions so you could get to know each other better, wasn't exactly far off from reality.

“Why do I feel like she's going to ask me why I was at the scene of the crime?” he asked you in a whisper, leaning towards you. Andrew swore he could feel his heart skip a beat as you chuckled at his remark, and he was relieved as you revealed you felt the same.

“The real question is, is she Good Cop or Bad Cop?” You replied in the same hushed tone.

“Oh, bad cop. I’ve done this with her before, and when she wants to know something she’ll badger you until she gets an answer.”

“Perfect. She can be my lawyer in about twenty years.”

That elicited a laugh out of Andrew, a small chuckle that caught Katie’s attention.

“What's funny?” She asked, genuinely feeling like she missed out on your conversation.

“It's nothing.” You changed the subject to convince her it was inconsequential. “Why don't we get started? Ask us anything,” you instructed, regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth, mostly because of the next words that came out of Katie’s.

“Why don't you have a wife?” She turned to Andrew, whose mouth was now agape. Your own eyes had widened, shocked by the boldness of her first question before remembering she is a little girl that hadn't yet developed a filter.

“You haven't seen me in a while. How do you know I don't?” He retorted, a lazy attempt at deflecting the question.

“Do you have a wife?”

“Well, no…”

“Then why don't you have a wife?”

“Ehm… I think it's her turn.” He tilted his head in your direction. Katie agreed with a nod and thought for a beat. Once she formulated her question, her attention turned to you.

"How many friends do you have?”

“God, I don't know… four? Five?”

“That's not a lot. Why do you only have five friends?”

“Good question… back to him!”

Katie turned.

“How come I don’t see you often?”

“Because usually I’m on tour.”

“Is that why you don’t have a wife?”

“Huh. Maybe.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“Yes,” you both said. You exchanged a glance, surprised you both had the same answer. The girl across the table was oblivious to this small moment you shared, and immediately went back to her questioning.

“Will Tommy be the husband?” Katie leaned across the table, an excited gleam in her eye.

Tommy. Your ex. Last time Katie had seen you, you two were in love, almost madly. However, a lot can happen in four months, and you found yourself having to explain a breakup (a particularly messy one, at that) to this naive girl. You let out a sigh.

“No. Me and Thomas… we aren't really friends anymore”

“But you said he was your true love.”

“Not anymore! Next question. Please.”

“True love is forever. Is true love not forever?”

“It is! It is.”

“Then how come you and Tommy aren't friends?”

“Well, Tommy — Thomas,” you corrected yourself before continuing, your words stunted, “and I weren't as good together as we thought. It took longer than it should've to realize, but we couldn't work. Kind of like when you’re doing a puzzle, and it looks like two pieces fit, but when you try to put them together, they don't.”

It was like you could watch the gears turn in Katie’s little head; she was trying as hard as she could to imagine your comparison. Meanwhile, Andrew was watching you as you thought, mentally praising you for not only putting into words something obviously painful for you, but explaining in terms a kid could understand. Despite the supposed ‘way with words’ he had, he knew it would take him several tries and multiple rough drafts to do the same. He let you continue, his eyes never leaving your face.

“It’s just sometimes, you think someone is your true love, when actually they’re not. Sometimes some things aren't meant to be. And that’s okay. No matter how sad it makes the both of you afterwards, or how upset you get…”

Your sentence trailed off, your throat closing up with that all-too-familiar feeling you recognized immediately. All of this had happened months ago; the breakup between you and Thomas had devastated you of course, but you had recovered. But having to explain the complicated events between you two in such a straightforward way, to put all the emotions you felt into simple terms, made it all seem real. And it only made those feelings resurface.

Andrew could tell something was off. He, of course, had no idea about this past relationship, and frankly, it was none of his business. What was his business, however, was how you looked like you were about to cry, how he could see the tears in your eyes welling up. He wasn't about to let you shed a tear over this. So, he attempted a diversion.

“Alright, I think we're done playing 20 questions. How about a movie?” He stood up, a feigned smile on his face. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion and you stood up after him, following suit.

“You know what? Good idea. Katie, why don’t you go find something to watch with Andrew and I’ll make popcorn, get some snacks ready?”

For a moment you worried she wouldn’t comply and more innocently personal questions would be coming your way. However, Katie didn't seem to mind this interjection, immediately agreeing and hurrying over to the living room to find the TV remote.

You both watched as she scurried away before looking back at each other eyes meeting for the first time that night. A few seconds were spent just staring into his eyes, noticing how very green they were. This captivation distracted you from the awkward silence that filled the air between you. You broke eye contact first, stepping around your chair and pushing it in. You walked into the kitchen, the footsteps you heard behind you letting you know he followed you. You didn't speak until you knew Katie would be out of earshot.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

“No problem. I completely get it.”

“Jesus, my first babysitting gig and I almost cried. At this rate, I’ll have to go back to selling lemonade to make ends meet.”

He let out a laugh, and the sight of it made a smile tug at the corner of your lips, though you couldn't shake the feeling you looked a bit… pathetic.

“ You probably think I’m a loser, huh?”

“No! No, absolutely not. Love, breakups, endings … dealing with that stuff isn't easy. If I thought it was, I wouldn't write songs on the matter for a living. Having to explain it to a kid without crushing her dreams is even harder. If anything, I commend you for it.”

For a reason you couldn't immediately explain, his praise actually managed lighten your mood, to the point where you had to suppress the urge to grin from ear to ear.

“What is it?” Andrew asked, as if to tell you your smile hadn't gone unnoticed.

“That was… just really nice of you to say.”

“I mean, it's true.”

The room filled with silence for a moment before you broke it.

“Do you think we could just forget that the whole thing ever happened and get on with the night?”

“Absolutely. It's forgotten,” he agreed, borderline erasing it from his memory as soon as you asked. His attention shifted as he yelled into the other room.

“Katie, have you ever seen The Princess Bride?”

Andrew went off into the living room, following Katie, and a smile grew on your face as you looked through the pantry for microwave popcorn.

It took a solid ten minutes of searching due to the plethora of streaming services Liam and Quinn had, but you finally found The Princess Bride. Katie brought down some blankets from her room in the meantime. Given, because they came from a six-year-old’s bedroom, they were patterned with Disney characters and unicorns, but they were comfortable all the same. You sat on opposite sides of the couch, a bowl of popcorn equidistant between the both of you, and for a reason only her little brain could rationalize, Katie was sitting on the floor.

You looked at the screen in awe like it was your first time watching, when in actuality you’d seen the movie more times than you could count. You mouthed the words of the most famous lines, almost subconsciously, as to not disturb the little one’s first viewing experience. Of course, you also snuck a few glances at Andrew when the screen held less of your attention. Okay, maybe more than a few glances. It was the first time that night you both could actually relax, and you took the moment to size him up. His hair, which was up in a man-bun at the beginning of the night, had since been let down, brown curls now loosely framing his face. He wore a white sweatshirt and black jeans. On his feet were white Converse that were clearly well-loved, to say the least. Despite how casual it all was, he really pulled it off. It almost made you wish you could raid his closet, see what other unexpectedly stylish clothes he had in his possession, maybe steal a sweater on the way out.

Oddly enough, it felt natural, being this comfortable on opposite sides of the couch with a man that might as well be a stranger. It’s almost like you wouldn’t mind if this was your house, your television, your kid-

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the clapping you heard from Katie’s spot on the floor as the credits rolled.

“So what did you think?” Andrew asked. Katie’s gaze broke from the screen to look at him.

“I wanna watch it again!”

“You can watch it again another time with mum and dad.”

“I want to watch it now!”

“Katie, the movie’s over, and it's 8 at night. Get upstairs, put on your pajamas, and brush your teeth.” He scolded as he got up from his spot on the couch. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees.

“I said I wanna watch it again!”

“It's getting late, you have to get ready for-”

“Again! Again! Again!” She stomped. You knew she was bound to have a tantrum any second now. Something that, judging by the concerned on his face, Andrew had no idea how to handle. It seemed like it was your turn to come to the rescue.

You got up from your seat, walking over to Andrew to stand by his side (figuratively and literally).

“Could you help me out here?” He asked, his frustration with her slowly growing.

“Watch and learn.”

You turned to Katie and crouched down to be on her level.

“Do you want to play a game?”

She didn't give a verbal answer, but based on her frown immediately disappearing and her head nodding so rapidly you thought it might fall off, you could assume what she would say. You thought for a moment before continuing.

“All you have to do to play is go upstairs and do everything you would usually do right before you go to bed. I’m going to set a timer, and if you’ve done everything and you're in bed before the timer, you win. Got the rules?”

“Yep!” She squeaked, her excitement evident.

“Alright. Ready… set… go!”

She quickly ran out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving the two of you left stunned for a moment. You both got up from your crouching, and you craned your neck upward to be met with, to your surprise, a look of amazement from Andrew.

“I swear, you must be magic.”

You deflected his praise almost immediately.

“Please, I’m not even close to being magic. I just know that kids will do anything if you turn it into a game.”

“Which is a level of sorcery that I can only wish to achieve!”

“If we end up babysitting again, you can always become my apprentice.”

“Offering a second date already?”

You knew he was teasing, but the romantic suggestion was enough to make your heart pound in your chest. You responded the only way you knew how.

“Shut up…”

You bantered and talked, taking advantage of the very little time you had to try and get to know each other (past the deep secrets you already knew from Katie’s questions). Your conversation immediately felt as if you knew each other for years, not hours. There was almost a click to it; the back and forth between the two of you happened easily, naturally. But, like all things, it couldn't last forever. After about ten minutes, a small voice yelled from up the stairs:

“I’m done!”

“We’ve been summoned.” Andrew stated.

He started walking towards the staircase, and nodded his head to tell you to come along. You caught up to him with no hesitation.

Andrew opened the door to Katie’s room and took a look around. It was as messy as one expects a five-year-old’s bedroom to be. Toys, anything from fake jewelry to Barbies, were scattered across the floor. Her drawings, mostly scribbles of rainbows and cartoons and her family, hung on her wall. Stuffed animals and fuzzy blankets were contained in a chest in the foot of her bed. After a moment, he held the door wider, giving you room to walk inside. You thanked him and walked over to the side of Katie's bed. A bit unsure of what to do, Andrew stood behind you as you talked to Katie.

“Hey, you tricked me!”

“Yeah, I did. But now that you're all ready for bed and tucked in, aren't you tired?”

“I guess,” she started, a yawn interrupting her thought, “I am.”

“Then it's time for you to go to bed. Good night Katie Cat.”

You leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead before Katie let out a yelp.

“Wait! I can’t go to bed yet. I need a story.” She whined. “Mum and dad tell me a story every night before bed. I can't sleep without it.”

“What do you want it to be about?”

“Can it be about a princess? Like the movie?”

“Sure. Well, there was-”

“It needs to start with ‘once upon a time’.”

“Does it really have to?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then,” you conceded, knowing as much as you wanted to protest, she wouldn't let it go.“Once upon a time, there was a princess… that was trapped in a tower… guarded by a dragon.”

“Wow, that’s never been done before,” you heard him whisper behind you. You looked over your shoulder and shot him a small look of disapproval.

“Well, to her it's original. Just go with it,” you chided before continuing.

“As I was saying, there was a princess trapped in a tower. And there was a prince,” you turned behind you again, mouthing ‘that's you’ to the man behind you, “that was trying to rescue her.”

“Can I be the dragon?” Katie asked eagerly.

“Whatever you want, dear.” You replied, giving her approval. Katie let out a roar and, shockingly, Andrew got into character, already miming holding a sword and shield.

“Hello, Ms. Dragon. Listen, I have to slay you. I’m not happy about it either. It's the only way to save the princess.”

He gave you a quick glance, one you would've missed if you had blinked in the wrong moment. He returned his focus to ‘the dragon’.

“I usually am a pacifist, so I truly hate to do this, but I must…”

He faked a lunge towards her and began to tickle her, making both of them double over in laughter. You attempted to engrave the memory into your mind in fear that you would never experience a moment as heartwarming as this one again. He gave up after thirty seconds, standing up again.

“And just like that, the dragon was defeated!” You announced.

“Now the princess needs to marry the prince!” Katie yelled, almost commanded.

“What?” Andrew asked, more confused than opposed. Katie only gave him a disapproving look, which was enough to make him comply.

He knelt down on one knee and scoured the ground for something that had caught his eye before: a toy ring. He snatched it off her messy floor and held it towards you in an extended hand.

“Princess, I have rescued you from the dragon. Now, should you say yes, I would like to have you as my wife.”

This wasn't necessarily the most romantic moment of your life, but for some reason, it definitely made the list. A fact that was a bit pitiful, sure, but still very true. Which was exactly why you- technically, the princess- needed to take the story in an alternate direction. It was a personal way to protect your ego.

“And the princess said… no thanks.” Surely that would save your self-esteem from his imaginary judgment. To your surprise, it did the opposite. His brows furrowed in confusion, and his smile dropped.

“What? Why wouldn't the princess want to marry the prince?” He asked, trying to give you a look as if to tell you to just go with it. You, of course, got the message, but decided to lean more into your own narrative.

“She didn’t like the look of him.” Lie. But one that kept the girl entertained, her laughs growing louder.

“Why not?” Andrew couldn’t help but feel just a little offended, even though he knew everything you were saying was intended lightheartedly, the real purpose being to entertain the girl.

“Well, he was a bit lanky, for starts.”

“That’s not exactly something the prince can control. You have to cut him some slack there.”

“And his hair was better than hers! It was beautiful. All long and curly and fluffy. The princess simply wasn’t having it.”

“Wait, you think my hair is-.”

“And to top it all off, he was tall! Very tall. She’d have to go on her tiptoes just to kiss him, which, honestly Katie, gets very inconvenient.”

Andrew was about to counter, the words on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself upon hearing the fits of giggles escaping Katie. He decided to let the moment be, taking in both your and Katie’s smiles from this new perspective.

You turned, your face showing your feigned contemplation. For a brief moment, you enjoyed the fact this might be the only time you'll be taller than him. A sigh escaped your lips and your eyes rolled, but you couldn't hide the smile on your face.

“I guess the princess could try and give the prince a chance.”

He looked back up at you, giving you a sheepish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He took your hand and carefully placed the ring on your finger, as gentle as he would be if it was made of diamond and not plastic. His calloused fingers wrapped around your hand, undoubtedly hardened by all the guitar he’d played over the years. The feeling of his hands on yours, him looking up at you, the way his eyes were staring into yours with such admiration, it all almost felt like a real proposal. Not one that came after slaying a dragon, but after years of knowing and loving each other. One that came before celebratory kisses and preparing for a wedding. One that made your heart stir and your mind wander, only stopped when you heard him mutter something.

“You kinda have to finish the story.”

Right. The story. His words snapped you out of your deep thought, and you blinked a few times as you focused back on reality and not what you’d made up in your head about the man you'd only known for about two hours. The gorgeous, tall, kind, funny man you had only known for two hours. You cleared your throat.

“So, the princess finally said yes to him. And then they got married and they all lived happily ever after!”

You took a bow, as if you had just finished up a broadway worthy performance. Andrew, however, stayed in his spot on the floor still kneeling, something you only noticed when you looked up to smile at him to find empty space where you expected his head to be. You looked down at him and whispered.

“You can get up now, you know.”

“Oh. Right.”

He got up and did his own small bow before making an announcement.

“Alright, story’s over. Time to go to sleep.”

Though she had enjoyed it, by the end of your story (performance?) Katie's eyes were already drooping, so she had no more hostility towards going to bed. You walked over and stood on the left side of her bed, Andrew on the right.

“Goodnight, Katie-Cat. Sweet dreams.” You said softly before placing a small kiss on her forehead. He quickly did the same, placing a kiss on her forehead as well.

“Goodnight, Katie. Sleep well.”

He paused for a moment before adding on something you hadn't expected.

“I love you.”

As if your heart couldn't melt any more.

“Love you too, Uncle Andy.” She mumbled before making herself comfortable, snuggling up under her blanket; it was almost a signal for you to leave the room. You both obeyed, walking towards her door frame. You flipped the light switch, leaving the room in darkness, and closed her door behind you both.

You hated to admit it, but a smile grew on both of your faces.

Unsure of how to celebrate (a handshake was too formal, a high-five was too loud), after an awkward rotation of gestures, you settled on a fist bump.

Does fist-bumping a man ten minutes after calling his hair beautiful count as mixed signals?

“We did it!” You whisper-shouted after your small celebration. Andrew's tone mirrored yours as he spoke.

“Jesus, is this what being a parent feels like?”

“I hope not. No offense to you, but I’m miserable.”

“Oh no, the pounding headache’s got to you too?”

“That and the back pain from all the crouching over.”

“At times I could feel my hair turning gray.”

“What I’m hearing is that you could also go for a cup of tea right about now.”

“That's exactly correct. However, this isn't our house, which means it's not our place to make tea.”

“It can be if you give me two minutes.”

You shot Quinn a quick text to ask.

hey. is it alright if me and andrew make some tea? I know you said we could do whatever but i feel bad if you're not home.

It took a minute, but Quinn replied.

i trust you both so much i’d let you cook a three-course meal without me home. go ahead and brew your tea.

“Well, we’ve got Quinn’s approval.”

You showed him the text, and he let out a soft chuckle, nodding. You both headed down the stairs as quickly (and quietly) as possible.

You returned to the kitchen and began to look for teabags while Andrew looked for a kettle. You didn’t dare to make a mess, so you both just closed and opened drawers until you found exactly what you needed. He filled the kettle and placed it on the stove while you made the hard decision between chamomile and earl grey; you immediately made your decision when he made a comment about chamomile being his favorite.

You leaned on opposite sides of the counter, the stove between the two of you. After a minute you fell into a silence that was comfortable, but unwanted. It was the first time that night you had the freedom of being alone now that Katie was fast asleep, yet you had no idea what to do with yourselves. Biting at your lower lip, you thought of something to say.

“Hey, we did a pretty good job being her court jesters for the night.” You finally commented. Andrew nodded his head before jokingly correcting your statement.

“More accurately, we did a good job being her prince and princess.”

“Almost made me think I should’ve pursued a career in acting.”

“You have to give some credit to your co-star here, as well.”

“Oh, absolutely. Oscar-winning performance. I appreciate you incorporating props, as well.”

“One of the greatest improv moments of my career.”

“I had no idea I was in the presence of such a legend. ” You said barely, being able to hold back your laughter. Your conversation fell back into a now-familiar rhythm. The topics started anywhere from how you knew Quinn to how much you both loved Katie, but as you went on you diverted to your favorite movies snd Andrew’s interest in classical literature. The only interruption was the whistle of the kettle, which you had almost forgotten about. Andrew took it upon himself to prepare the tea, even after you insisted that you would take over. Instead, you actually took in the kitchen, finding something unexpected on the counter.

You were both surprised that Liam and Quinn actually owned a radio.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” He asked.

“Not at all.” You stepped to the side, giving him permission to turn the radio on.

He twisted the knob of the radio, searching for a station for a moment before stopping. He landed on a station playing jazz, turning up the volume as he recognized the tune: A Kiss To Build A Dream On by Louis Armstrong. Instinctively, he tapped his foot to the beat.

You both stood in silence, one that almost drowned out the song playing. This silence was just strong enough for you to formulate an idea. You liked this song, you were bored, and most importantly, you wanted to be close to him. So you decided to take a risk. You extended a hand in his direction.

“Care for a dance?”

It took him a moment to process your question out of shock. After a few seconds, he stuttered out his answer, his gaze shifting to your hand.

“I- No, I couldn't. I have two left feet. I’d probably be… stepping on your toes the entire time.”

You shrugged.

“Who cares? It's just us, and I’m not gonna judge you.” You reassured him, motioning for him to join you.

Andrew was quickly learning he couldn't say no to you.

He gave in, taking one of your hands in his and placing the other one on your waist. At first, you awkwardly kept your distance between each other, like two teens during a slow song at their school dance. However, you got more into a rhythm as time went on, eventually getting comfortable enough with him to rest your head on his chest, as close as you could get to his shoulder with his height. Andrew was hoping you were more focused on dancing so you couldn’t feel his heart beat out of his chest. He kept his promise of stepping on your toes, mumbling a “Sorry!” every time he did so. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He even tried to spin you by the second chorus, almost crashing you into him, but helping you regain your balance. Laughter was your only response to any of this.

Much to the dismay of you both, the song ended, and you pulled away from each other. You missed his touch, your hand buzzing from the sudden change. Another song began to play from the radio: I’m In The Mood For Love by Julie London. Christ, it was like the universe was sending you a sign. Everything else throughout the night had all led up to this.

You could barely process what was happening when Andrew placed his lips on yours.

The kiss was small and chaste, cautious in case you didn't reciprocate. It was so sudden that you forgot to kiss him back, just absorbing the moment that you had slowly been longing for more and more throughout the night. When he pulled away, all he saw was the astonishment and shock on your face. He didn't notice how your gaze was fixated on his lips, and instead frantically began to apologize.

“Shit, I misread you, didn't I? I’m so sorry, I apologize. You have every reason to be upset with me.”

His suggestion made you laugh.

“Are you kidding me? That's all I've wanted all night.”

You saw something change in his demeanor, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“It's alright if I kiss you again, then?”

“Yes! Yes. Please do.”

As soon as you gave him permission, he placed his hands on the sides of your face and pulled you close to him.

Another thing about the universe is that not only does it send signs, it tends to have impeccable timing; just as Andrew leaned in to kiss you again, you heard the front door unlock. Quinn’s voice rang through the hallway.

“Hey, I don't know if you got my text, but there wasn't that much traffic so we got home… Oh. I see we're interrupting something."

You both let go of each other, a look of guilt like you’d been caught doing something illegal. Thankfully, Quinn was no cop.

“I’m not mad or anything. Just happy you waited until Katie was asleep to start swapping spit.”

You both thanked her, ignoring a passing comment she made about how she “always did think you’d be good for each other”. You said your goodbyes, hugging Liam and Quinn with smiles and faces that were still flushed from earlier. You waved them a final goodbye and walked out onto the patio together, Andrew holding the door for you again. You were alone together again.

“So, do you think we could pick up from where we left off before?” You asked a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

He finally leaned down to kiss you again, holding your face gently. This time, you reciprocated, placing your hand on the nape of his neck to keep him as close as possible. It was slow, as if both of you decided to take your time; a gentle precursor for all the kisses to come in the future. Your hands made their way into his hair, his making their way to your waist. You stay like that for what could have been forever for all that you care, but's only a minute.You both pulled away to get some air, small pants escaping your mouths. Andrew looked down at you with wonder, a smile growing on his face.

“You really are magic.” He mumbled.

“Still not magic. Just… me.” You deflected again.

“Is there a difference?” He asked rhetorically. He let out a sigh before speaking again.

“ Y/N… God, I feel like a teenager saying this, but… would you want to go on a date sometime? A proper one, with no babysitting or playing pretend. Just me and you and staring at a painting or a sunset or each other's faces.” He rambled, taking a deep breath. “Whatever you want.”

Letting out a laugh, you replied.

“I would love to.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, Andrew."

“Good night, Y/N.”

Andrew gave you one last peck on the lips before you, unfortunately, went your separate ways for the night. Walking back to your car, you also couldn’t help but feel like a teenager, but because he made you so… giddy, so willing to start something new with him. You could barely keep down the butterflies in your stomach. All of this caused by coincidence, a bit of fate, and a babysitting gig. Not how you thought the night was going to go, but perhaps the most pleasant surprise you’d ever had.

You got into your car, and tuned the radio to the same station as before. All the songs remind you of him.

You had the stupidest smile on your face the entire drive home.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne x reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #writing #fanfic #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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sluttyminghao · 11 months ago

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Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 955 ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: this is pretty self explanatory, but I'm writing some thoughts and mini drabbles about seventeen! I'm grouping them to make it easier to read, and I hope you'll enjoy them all! big shoutout to @bf-wonu and all of my friends at @svthub who helped me with ideas!

Seungcheol: he wants you just to relax and guide you through your orgasm, nothing too special. he’s going to still be a hard dom for sure, but i think since he’s not with you he’d be a little more relaxed and laid back. He would have a slightly gruff note to his voice; it only turns you on more and leaves you more willing to do as he says. “You’re being so good for me, baby, I bet you’re fingers aren’t as good as mine” he’d grunt out as his hand pumps away on his fat cock, imagining it’s your hand instead. The whimper that crosses through the phone line and hits his ear is enough to have his hand speeding up, a low growl emitting from his throat as he feels his orgasm near. The dirty talk that would omit from this man’s mouth would be genuinely insane, like when he’s with you he doesn't even dirty talk this much, so you’re not sure what the difference is when it’s in person vs over the phone. He would also want the both of you to cum at the same time, even if that means staving off his orgasm for a little bit just so that he can cum with you and imagine he’s cumming inside you. Even when you have cum and he has also, he wouldn't want you to stop until your moans turn into needy whines from overstimulation and only then, would he let you off the hook and let you fall into your mattress. After you’ve both finished off, he asks you if you’re okay and makes sure you clean yourself up (even though he wishes he could be the one to do it), and would even go as far as ordering you some takeout to have while he fills you in on his day, and asks you about yours. No matter where he is, whether he’s right next to you or on the other side of the world, the aftercare is still the most important part for him.

Jeonghan: With Jeonghan, you never know what kind of persona you’ll get when things start getting steamy over the phone. A good majority of the time, he’s going to be teasing you incessantly and taking you to heights you’ve never experienced. He’s the type to be extremely cocky over the phone when you start getting needy, and he would say the filthiest things to you that would bring anyone to their knees in an instant. He would jokingly tell you that you only call him when you're needy and it makes him feel like a cheap whore, but he loves helping you through an orgasm, even if he isn't with you physically. He always gives you very direct instructions as well, and I think he’d also want video and photo evidence, especially if you are in mid-orgasm or even when you’re making yourself feel so good, just so that he can get off to the image/video of you also. “Sweetheart, you look so pretty like this, can I get a full body shot of your body? God, you’re so hot, I can’t wait to get home later and fill you up and mark you as my own.” He’s going to just make you feel cheap and dirty but you can’t even say anything about it because you feel so good, and you know that when he gets home he’s just going to reiterate what he told you over the phone, and will make you cum over and over. While he has you on the phone, he would make you overstimulate yourself, just to hear the whimpers and whines from you, before telling you to stop and making you’re okay. If he was feeling particularly generous, he would order some food for you, or most of the time you’d just crash out after the mind-blowing orgasm and he’d arrange for food to be sent later.

Joshua: He would be so into this, I think he’d get so into it sometimes that he forgets he’s not in person with you and would turn over to go and fuck you, but realizes you’re not there but instead on the phone trying to catch your breath. He’s going to be the most gentle out of the 95 line, but still has a pinch of assertiveness and dominance to him that has your stomach tightening and your toes curling whenever he lowers his voice. It comes off as a mix of deep and husky, which will only further your want for him. He’s not going to tease you to the same extent as Jeonghan would, but he’s still going to tease the fuck out of you and make you beg for more, and beg to cum. He’s going to make you beg a lot actually, especially when you are on the verge of your orgasm. I think when he’s got you on the phone as well, he will talk you through basically the whole thing, right down to making you imagine what he would do to you if he was with you, and what he’s going to do when he gets home and can get his hands on you. There would be some times when he probably forgets he’s on the phone with you or ends up doing some other task like cooking food and would end up having to get you through another orgasm while he’s flipping pancakes or something along those lines. He’d be very sweet about it though, you know in that overly sweet and slightly cocky way, and would make up for his being away once he gets back, with his fingers and his cock, and also his filthy words and phrases.

#sm: masterlist 2024 #sluttyhao smut #sluttyhao reaction #kpop smut #kpop reaction #seventeen smut #seventeen reaction #seungcheol smut #jeonghan smut #joshua smut

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ohmybueckers · 4 days ago

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Never Strangers: Chapter Four

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: binge drinking, that's basically it

Authors Note: happy game day! we're still in the "its so over" portion of paige and maya's story but dw we're making our way to the "we're so back" section. lesson of this chapter do not try to have a serious convo with your ex in a bar. also shoutout to anon who said they had a dream about chapter 4 being posted, here you go bby <3

“You said they weren’t coming!” I hissed to Adria. My eyes were focused on how Paige looked accepting a shot from one of the mens players, going eye to eye with KK before tilting her head back and letting the liquid rush down her throat. I knew I should look away - no, had to look away - but there was something about seeing Paige in the flesh after all these years that made it so I physically couldn’t.

Adria appeared just as shocked, alternating between looking at me and the two players. “That’s what KK said!”

The music echoing through the bar all became too much. The shots taken earlier in the night evolved from a warm buzz to an uncomfortable heat blazing through me, making me sweat in my jean shorts and black tank top. I needed a break, needed some time to think of a game plan. Surely there was time to sneak out of a back window or something. I just needed to be somewhere quieter, somewhere where I wouldn’t be seen. “Um, I’m just gonna go to the bathroo-“

Before I could finish my sentence, a loud voice broke through the crowd, “Adria!”

Both Adria and I watched as my window of escape vanished before my eyes in just a few short moments: A girl with a bright smile, wearing a baggy white tee shirt with a silver chain, barreled through the sea of people and towards my friend, whose jaw had not left the floor. KK Arnold. And who else would be behind her than Paige, whose eyes met mine before I could avert them.

I had seen more recent photos of Paige, sure, but getting to see her in person - the way her hair texture had changed from the pin straight style she kept through high school to a more natural wave, the way her arms had grown in definition, and the way her eyes widened as she was taking me in at the same time - that was a completely different ball game. KK moved to embrace Adria, her hands lingering on the other girls waist in a way that was just noticeable enough that anyone who bothered to look would raise an eyebrow. “I’ve been texting you!”

“What happened to Teds?” Adria asked, leaning into the other girls touch. Through my panic, there was a brief moment of recognition of just how good the two of them looked together. If KK is half as great as Adria makes her out to be, they would make a good couple - as long as KK doesn’t fuck it up.

“Some emergency maintenance thing with the plumbing, they kicked us out.” KK grumbled, leaning one arm against the aforementioned table. As if she just noticed there was another person with the girl (wouldn’t be the first time tonight), she gestured over to me. “Is this your friend?”

Adria nodded, looking over to me as if she was seeking permission to acknowledge the elephant in the room. There was no use trying to be invisible now: in just a few moments, I had become very, very visible, and the pair of bright blue eyes staring at me in shock from my peripheral vision were proof of that. “KK, this is Maya. Maya, this is KK”

I smiled and gave a wave, which earned me a sudden side hug in return. “Hi, I’m KK,” the shorter basketball player gave me an intoxicated grin, giving no indication of knowing who I was. KK pulled away, turning to face the blonde who had kept a few steps of distance until this point. Whether this was to allow KK to have her moment with her girl or to avoid me, I didn’t know. I didn’t really care to know. “Adria, I’m not sure you��ve met Paige - Adria, Maya, this is my designated driver of the night.”

I forced myself to make eye contact once more, letting myself get washed away as Paige looked me up and down as if she was somehow still unconvinced I was there. It was only after I heard Adria introduce herself through the muffled haze that I remembered I was still around others. With a voice crack I am not proud of, I managed a, “Hey Paige.”

Paige bit her lip, nodding as if to bring herself back to the present as well. “Long time no see.”

KK, who had appeared unaware of any tension between us while her girl stood next to her a little too aware, shifted her grace between Paige and I. “You two know each other or something?”

Paige let out a loud cough, her eyes like saucers, leaving me to answer the loaded question. “Yeah, um, old friend from high school.”

KK’s reaction to this information was akin to a kid at Disneyworld. “Oh shit, so you got to see Hopkins Paige in action then?”

“Sure did!” I force a smile, feigning joy so well I almost believed it myself. Inside, images of nights nearly losing my voice as I stood out of place in the Hopkins section of the audience and post-game meals with the Bueckers family came back to me like a plague.

“Well, looks like I need to catch up with you guys. Your drink is almost empty!” KK shouted, turning back towards Adria and gesturing to the glass in her hand which had been reduced to a watery brown substance, the Captain and Coke long finished. KK grabbed her hand. “Come with me, I’ll buy you another.”

With a speed and energy that was truly impressive (athlete stamina, I guess), KK managed to whisk Adria towards the bar, leaving Paige and I alone as Adria shot one last apologetic glance my direction. And then there were two.

--------

How do you introduce yourself to someone who once knew everything about you? I don’t think. either of us knew the answer to that question, but Paige made an attempt.

“Hey,” she said, her voice almost cautious, unlike the interview clips I had seen where she had been unapologetically confident.

I can’t say I’m much more confident when I squeak out, “Hi.”

She makes a stab at breaking the ice first, asking the obvious question. “Had enough of Minnesota, huh?”

I felt myself rock on my toes, the stickiness of the bar floor not making my typical anxious tick easy. “Just… looking for a change, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She nods, looking around the bar of UConn fans before smiling. “Made a good choice at least.”

I pause at that, opening my mouth before giving it much thought. “Not sure I’ve been making too many of those lately.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to tell Paige the truth, something I had hardly accepted myself after years of it being my identity. Being in front of Paige for the first time in three year must have reminded me of the times where telling Paige everything felt like a given, back when there were no secrets between us. I guess old habits die hard. “I quit mock trial.”

Paige’s eyes widened, her lashes blinking as if that was the last thing she was expecting me to say (in which case I am concerned which “bad decisions” she deemed more likely for me to make). “What? When?”

“Last spring, when I was still at Minnesota.” I looked down, unable to handle her gaze on me much longer after dropping this on her. I had dealt with enough disappointed looks and people scolding me like a child for this choice in the past few months - I don’t know if I could handle it from her right now. “I loved it in high school, and then I got to college and it just didn’t really hit for me anymore. I think I was just scared to leave for a while because it was so comfortable. But now I’m… just figuring it out. Opening myself up to everything.”

She nodded, eyes trained on me like she was really trying to understand what I was saying. Finally she shrugs; not in a dismissive way, but almost as a method of reassurance. “Well, as long as you’re doing what you think is best, I don’t think that’s the worst decision you could make.”

I found some relief in those words. I think it may have been the first time I had heard them since I sent my resignation in. Paige was always good at that in high school, reassuring me that I didn’t need to have it all figured out and that the world wouldn’t implode if I didn’t have my life planned out through my thirties. Surely if she were feeling this way about basketball, I knew she wouldn’t take her own advice, but it didn’t make the sentiment matter less. Even if I didn’t know it, I think I may have needed just one person to tell me I wasn’t about to fuck my life up. Even if it was coming from someone I never thought I would speak to again.

In the back of our conversation, some Nicki Minaj remix faded out. In some absurd twist of fate that can only be explained by my absurd luck this past week, a couple of chords caused a visible reaction in both of us, my back straightening and head cocking as if I hadn’t heard it correctly. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) I had: the opening chords to Exchange began playing over the speakers.

I tried my best to play it cool, staring at my sneakers so as to not blow my cover immediately, until I peered up and saw that Paige was thinking the exact same thing, an amused grin plastered on her face. “Is this-“

I couldn’t help myself - I started cackling, because if I didn’t laugh I was pretty sure I would find the nearest hole in Storrs and bury myself in it. My laugh was followed by Paige’s, ours harmonizing in a way that was all too familiar and caused an unnecessary tug at my heart in a way I preferred not to think about.

Rolling my eyes, I exclaim, “Exchange in the bar is crazy.”

We look at each other, clearly both thinking about that night in the Culvers parking lot, how the Fanta float tasted on her tongue. Maybe it was the flashing lights, but I could have sworn I saw a spark in her eyes, which grew in intensity the longer she looked. Maybe there was one in my eyes too.

Before we could let the moment linger, a familiar voice calls out. “P Boogers, Maya! We got a shotski, come on!”

------

KK and Adria stood at the bar, Adria laughing as KK pretends to stretch her arms in order to prepare for the shot in front of them - a wooden ski painted white, with four blue shot glasses on it. How fitting for a UConn sports bar.

Paige and I join them, assuming our positions as the bartender aids in lifting the ski. Out of all the things that have felt foreign to me at UConn, this does not feel unusual - it reminds me of tailgates with my friends as we prepared to cheer on the Gophers.

You would think having experience with shotskis I would know the mechanics better, particularly mechanics involving height. But it is only as we tilt the board back and I recognize that I am standing next to two tall athletes that I have made a grave mistake, one that I am unable to correct before the glasses meet the other girls lips and I am met with a shower of strong liquid splashing down on me, my eyes shutting just fast enough to avoid any true catastrophe.

“Oh shit,” I hear them notice what has happened as I bend over, attempting not to gag as I realize KK has purchased rail vodka, which smells not unlike Everclear.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” I manage to say, though I know I am fooling nobody. Opening my eyes, I see the guilt on the three of their faces as KK attempts to flag down the bartender who is currently helping a group of six girls all on different tabs. “I’m gonna just run to the bathroom and clean up a bit.”

I only make it a few steps before I sense the blonde jog up beside me, her face concerned. “Can I help?” I am beyond embarrassed, all too aware of the people surrounding us who noticed the incident, some of whom elbowing their friends upon spotting Paige. I don’t really have it in me to argue when Paige identifies a single stall restroom, pushing us inside.

It’s wild to me how just one locked door can feel so much more secluded and safe, even though from the disheveled appearance I can tell this bathroom has likely seen unimaginable horrors. Paige gets to work quick, wetting a paper towel on the sink and turning to assess the damage.

“I’m pretty sure there’s vodka in my hair.” I laugh, head leaning back before somewhat suddenly hitting the cool tile wall behind me, which only prompted more giggling. Paige gave a hum of concern, fingers tracing the back of my head to ensure I didn’t hit it too hard, though I saw her swallow back a laugh of her own. She trails her fingertips down, examining my styled wavy hair to see if my suspicions were true. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the fact that Paige was doing this right now, touching my hair so tenderly with her body so close I was surrounded by the musk of her cologne.

“How much did that bartender pour? Goddamn,” Paige clearly was not given as pleasant of a smell, visibly wincing as she was faced with the smell of rail liquor.

Paige removed her fingers from my hair, unable to find any excessive liquid in my tresses. Her eyes traced a couple of inches down before stopping. Noticing how the grip on her damp paper towel only tightened, my eyes trailed down my own body before realizing what caught her attention - a huge splash of liquid on the point where my top met my breasts, the cheap vodka giving my cleavage a sheen under the hum of the cheap bathroom light. Paige’s lower lip was caught in her teeth, biting down before clearing her throat which seemed to break the spell on both of us.

With haste, I grab a paper towel of my own, dabbing at my skin and attempting to make it look as decent as possible. This could not happen again. I know what she did the first time, I remind myself. “You didn’t need to help me, I’m not going to die from a little liquor on my skin,” I crack a joke, escorting the both of us out of the bathroom and back into the crowded bar. “Thank you for doing it though.”

Paige looks at me with an unreadable expression, almost appearing as if she wants to say something before setting on,“You know it’s really good to see you, right?”

I can’t help the flush that reaches my face, though perhaps later I would blame it all on the alcohol. The truth was that seeing Paige tonight was far less scary than I was envisioning. Some parts of it - the reassurance, the laughs, her touch - it felt like old times. Maybe that was the scariest part. At least it was the scariest part until her face fell serious, taking a cautious step forward before beginning, “Been wanting to talk to you for a while. Actually talk to you.”

I felt my heart rate accelerate, feeling out of breath even though I was simply standing there. Licking my lips, I manage an, “I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to do this here.” I dismissed, feeling pressure accumulate at the base of my throat at a speed that was starting to scare me. When Paige and I were alone, all outside noise muffled, the bar felt more manageable. Now, as the other girl had unknowingly cornered me as we were surrounded by sweaty bodies, I felt trapped. “I promised Adria I’d be here tonight, and she is…”

“Gone, probably left with KK.” I look around, realizing her assessment is right. Reaching for my phone, I find her message. “KK wanted to leave and talk. So sorry. Good luck.”

So much for my lifeline. “It was years ago, we don’t need to…”

Paige cuts me off, an old habit that until now she had refrained from falling back into. “Need to what? Maya, I’ve waited years because it’s what you wanted. And I respect that, I do. I just have shit I needa say. Give me two minutes, please.”

Paige sounded downright desperate, her eyes wide and pleading. I would be lying if I said I never pictured this happening, and what I would do or say if I ever got the chance to see her again. I can’t say I ever pictured it happening at a crowded bar, covered in vodka. Then again, I never pictured going to UConn in the first place. Sighing, I gestured her to follow me, moving us to an area with slightly less people. Not that it was necessarily secluded at all, but drunk me couldn’t find it in me to care. “Say what you need to say,” I say, feigning confidence despite my arms remaining crossed.

“I was a dick in high school, okay. I do not blame you at all for acting how you did after… everything.” She didn’t need to say it for both of us to know. “I miss you, though. I never stopped missing my best friend. Nobody could ever take your place. I need you to know that I’m not the same person I was back then.”

I’m not sure if it was the two last sentences she said, or if it was the alcohol hitting me like a fucking mallet, but it was as though any listening I had been willing to offer to Paige had evaporated in just a few seconds. “Really? Because last time I heard, you had no issue forgetting everything happened the second you got here.”

One of Paige’s eyebrow raised as she stepped forward, reaching an arm out in an attempt to touch mine. “Maya, what are you talking about?”

I jerked away. While Paige’s touch felt warm and welcome earlier, it certainly did not feel that way now. “I hear you got pretty popular with the girls of UConn, didn’t you?”

Paige’s mouth shut and her eyes closed, as if she realized she had been caught in some form of a lie. Nearby, I hear a beer bottle shatter on the floor, and I am made aware of just how much I do not want to cry in here, surrounded by a bunch of drunk students who clearly know the person causing my tears. “Please let me explain. We weren’t together, you know I wouldn’t have done anything if we were.”

Of course that’s what she leads with, I thought with an eye roll. “I don’t care, Paige.” I stress. “You can hook up with whoever you want. I care that you can’t even be honest with me, and you’re telling me that you magically changed the second you got to Storrs. Because from what I’ve heard, I don’t know if you have.”

“Who’s telling you this, Maya?” She asks, as if I would ever tell her. I trusted Adria and Brooke. More importantly, I trusted my own intuition that screamed at me that there were other girls after me, especially after seeing a few girls give flirty glances her way. Something about the knowledge that I was likely just practice for all her girls at UConn made me want to run back into the single stall and expel all I had consumed throughout the night.

“Doesn’t matter. All I know is that you led me on and made me believe you wanted more when you just wanted to fuck around…”

“I didn’t…” She tries to cut me off again, but I won’t let her. Not this time.

“Let me finish. You ruined our friendship. You ruined us, Paige. And now you’re here, and I just know you’re off hurting other girls in the way you hurt me.”

I noted how the circle of girls next to me looked over, some of their glances sympathetic upon seeing my emotional state while others were downright dirty for disturbing the peace of their night. Though I didn’t feel as though I was in any place to walk, I quickly decided staying in this bar with Paige was far more dangerous. “I don’t think I can have this conversation right now. Hope you get home safe.”

Paige attempted to speak again, but I was already making my way to the door, un-phased by the pouring rain which I had failed to prepare for. I had no plan on how I was getting home, no clue when busses were running and no desire to walk thirty minutes in the dark while it was storming. All I knew is I needed to get out.

I couldn’t handle hearing her escape accountability, telling me what I wanted to hear instead of what I needed to hear. The sad part is that I almost believed her.

My mom always warned me how rose colored glasses changes the past and makes you believe things were better than they were. She didn’t need to tell me she was referring to dad when she said it - I could tell from the look in her eyes and the tone in her voice. Maybe the same could be said for Paige. Maybe all those memories of ours weren’t actually as real as I thought they were, and that the shameful nights I spent crying in my room all through senior year of high school (and let’s be real, a good bit of freshman year of college) were for nothing.

Maybe I never actually knew Paige Bueckers at all.

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taglist: @paiges-1vur @unadulteratedcyclepaper @pboogerswbb

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers angst #paige bueckers fluff

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gingerteawrites · 5 months ago

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Your boyfriend is LOADED - Gojo Satoru headcanon

A/N: It has finally happened, my first Gojo fic. It's a short one, but I have been having this thought for a minute now, so I needed to get it out. Shoutout to @lizabeth0329 this one is for u ;)

Most of the time you forget that Satoru's trust fund is probably bigger than your entire bloodline's combined worth. He's just so carefree and light that you ALMOST forget. But not to fret, the white-haired menace never fails to remind you.

Richbf!Gojo who despite his silly antics cares SO much, always getting you little trinkets that remind him of you when he is away, or which he knows would remind you of him. You would collect and cherish them wholeheartedly, either keeping them in a pretty box or attaching the Keychains to your bag. Once, when your friend asked about one of your pretty azure souvenirs, you googled the brand just to check and almost dislocated your jaw at the realization of the price.

"What, that small thing? Don't even worry about it my love," Satoru winked cheekily when you brought it up. "You're worth way more than that."

He is also a big believer in flowers, spoiling you rotten with them. You were so moved the first time he got you a bouquet of blue hyacinths, a handwritten note explaining how they represent the constancy of his love for you, deep and all-encompassing. Now, you are more or so used to his weekly bouquets, always accompanied by either tender love messages or silly doodles signed with his name.

Richbf!Gojo who insists on treating you and paying for everything. It is his duty to care and provide for you in any way that he can. Whether you like it or not, he feels responsible for your comfort. Seeing you struggling is abhorrent to him, and he hates it even more when you don't come to him when he could so easily help.

"Come on princess, let me pay for it." He would gently coax you, hand on your cheek and a soft pout gracing his soft lips. "Please?"

And how could you possibly resist his persuasion, especially when those crystal eyes bore into yours with such tenderness?

Richbf!Gojo who is so proud of your relationship and would absolutely rock the crap out of anyone who dares come for you because of your social/financial status.

"I guess all those cosmetics you buy do nothing for the bad attitude, huh?" he commented, giving a nasty look at one uppity woman who had made a snide remark about him dating you out of all people. Moments like those reminded you that Satoru did not mind stooping down to some people's levels and insult them right in their face if it meant protecting you.

"That was harsh," You commented later, nestled against his chest during your weekly movie night in the comfort of his lavish apartment

"What was harsh was her patchy foundation." He replied with an eye roll, sending you into a fit of giggles.

Money meant nothing to Satoru if he could not use it to benefit you in some way. And whether or not you revel in this fact, you would just have to get used to that side of him because it is not going anywhere.

Satoru please pay for my tuition

Comments and reblogs much appreciated :))

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujustu kaisen #satoru #gojo headcanons #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #gingerteawrites

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evolnoomym · 6 months ago

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Doctor’s Pet 💌

Doctor!Dave York x nurse!reader

Main Masterlist | Dave York Masterlist

Summary: You are young, pretty, single and an aspiring Nurse. He’s older, married, bored and a talented Doctor. What happens when the two of you collide?

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, Sunny is back, (yes I have different named OC’s), forbidden relationship, cheating, power imbalance, the sort of Sugar Daddy vibes came out of nowhere, marriage issues, rough forceful sex, dub-con, readers being used, cream pie, secret affair, oral f receiving, ass eating (I guess), unprotected p in v, red lipstick, fighting, spanking, tears….If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: This is for @punkshort ‘s 1 year tumblr anniversary August Writing challenge, I got Doctor Dave York and this is what I came up with. The Gorgeous Moodboard is made by the beautiful @notjustjavierpena 💌💌💌

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to @fhatbhabiee @jennaispunk @notjustjavierpena @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly ❤️‍🩹👌🏻

As a young nurse that just finished her exams you are at the lower end of the chain and Dr.York, with his many years of experience, is at the top.

Before you were assigned to him, you only heard of the imposing Doctor through rumors spread by others. It was always about him being a handsome, talented and dedicated man who is, on the other side, a menace to the ones working with him. He’s bossy, snappy, mean and overall, not a pleasant man.

Usually, everyone just accepts the fact that he’s a pain in the ass because of all the knowledge he can provide.

The other nurses also always talk about wanting to hit on him and fantasize about how hot the sex with a man like him must be.

Doctor York is a tall, broad-shouldered, magnificent man with huge hands. He is clean-shaven, has a prominent nose, big brown eyes, dreamy lips and gorgeous brown hair with grey streaks.

You can admit that he’s a sight for sore eyes but from what you’ve been told the man has been married for more than 20 years. When he got married you weren’t even born yet.

Once you were told that you’d be working closely with him for the next two years, your friends expressed their jealousy and also their condolences. They told you that he would probably make you quit since you are one of the sweetest nurses in the hospital.

However, it surprised you when Doctor York was nothing but kind to you. He never yelled at you, never humiliated you during rounds when you didn’t know the correct answer, and never treated you like something below him but rather an equal.

The others started calling you two the dream team. Each shift you had with him felt like a blessing, no other doctor could compare to his finesse.

The relationship was strictly professional. Even when he allowed you access to his office library of incredible books about medical procedures, it was still very professional. When he started eating with you in his office whether it was breakfast, lunch, dinner or a midnight snack, it was still professional. When he kicked names of lists for important medical lectures just so you could have a spot, it was still professional. Even when he had his hand sneakily placed on your precious butt at the dinner party for the higher-ups, which you only had access to because of him, it was still professional. Even with his wife being right there.

That however changed one night when it all boiled over.

Your shift had ended an hour ago. You’d been waiting for Dr.York in his office since he always offered to take you home. Tonight, he apparently had something important come up which made him late but you didn’t mind.

You just walked around his office, sat in his big expensive-looking leather chair, scrolled endlessly on your phone, and browsed through his private library.

You remember it like it was yesterday that you were taking in all the stunning-looking books when the office door roughly got pushed open and there, he was in all his heaving galore, Doctor Dave York.

He looked like an animal with his ragged breathing, his eyes wide open, his jaw clenched hard as well as his fists.

You watched him close and lock the door. Before you could even ask what was going on he already pounced on you.

In no time he was right in front of you, crowding you against the bookcase.

In a split second he grabbed your face, pressing his lips on yours, kissing you with fever. It took you a moment to catch up with the situation at hand and once you did, you started kissing him back. His hands, those big paws, were all over you; on your face, your neck, your shoulder, your waist and your luscious hips.

He pulled away but only to drag you towards his big oak desk and bend you over the edge.

With your cheek squished against the surface, you could hear his huffed breathing behind you and felt his hands drag down your scrubs.

He just kept mumbling about how he needed you and that he would make it good. You just trusted him since he was your mentor and he knows best.

He admired your underwear as if it was chosen specifically for him. Kneeling behind you, he rubbed his cheek over your ass, squeezing and kneading you.

He dragged down your soaked thong and shoved his face between your legs, licking from your clit to your puckered hole and back. He ate you out like a man starved.

You had to place your palm over your mouth to muffle the intense moans trying to leave your mouth. He was doing a phenomenal job, licking broad stripes across your wet slit, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. Flicking the slender tip of his tongue on your puckered hole, stuffing it in your clenching pussy and slurping the sweet nectar of your arousal straight from the source.

He had you coming in no time.

That was all the preparation you got. Shortly after the orgasm subsided, he turned your limb body over and settled in between your wet thighs. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his impressive length. He dragged his cock over your slippery folds and slapped his tip on your clit.

He doesn't even ask about protection. Dr.York clearly didn’t care when he pushed his entire length into your warm tight hole.

He set a fast pace and if he didn’t have a bruising grip on your hips, you’d surely be pushed right off the table by the sheer force of his thrusts.

When you were almost there, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You - got - the - tightest - pussy - on - this - planet,-“ he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, “…ahhh, ah…ah, fuck, it’s so, so good baby. Your tight little cunt is taking me so well, exactly what I needed today.”

But he was not done yet; “I’m gonna fill you up…Hmmm, wouldn’t you like that Princess?”

All you could do was nod, which was all the consent Dave needed before thrusting even faster.

“Pull up that fucking shirt and show me those sugar-tits, you slut.” He made the decision for you when you didn’t react quickly enough. He grabbed the hem, shoved it up under your chin and pulled the white lace covering your tits to the side, so he could start running his fingers over your nipples, pinching and pulling them. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge and when you clenched around him he immediately started spilling his hot cum inside you while huffing like an animal. Once he collapsed on top of you, he started whispering soothing words into your ear.

“Shh,shh, Princess, you're alright, you did so good. Took it like a champ, my little Sun.”

That was the breaking point. Nothing was professional anymore. The next months were filled with forbidden meetups anywhere possible. Sometimes, he fucked you in his car. Sometimes, he ruined you in his office. He learned where you live from the Personal data files and surprised you with take out, a bouquet of red roses and later fucked you on your bed. After a while, there’s no surface left in your apartment that hasn’t been used. You were in such bliss that you didn’t even worry about how he found out where you live.

In those following months you learn that his marriage has been crumbling for a while. Dave is unhappy and the fights keep getting worse. When he fucked you in his office for the first time, he had just been on the phone with Carol, having another screaming match. You became a way of releasing all of the tension and anger she caused him.

In the beginning, you came to a mutual agreement that it would be nothing serious, but with time neither of you could really deny that it was not casual sex anymore.

He took you away on little trips whenever both of your busy schedules allowed it.

He showered you with Gifts ranging from a new plant, lingerie, perfume or Jewelry to a new car. He had money and he wanted to treat his sunshine the right way. How Mrs.York didn’t catch onto anything going on was a mystery to you.

The gifts, however, were not enough. You wanted him to yourself completely, officially and for everyone to see, leave marks all over his thick neck, scratches on his back when he was fucking you, leave your smell all over him, and have pictures of you together on his desk instead of his wife.

You should have felt remorse for Carol for taking away her husband, the love of her life, but you didn’t. If it was wrong then why did it feel so good?

Lately, you’ve been irritated with Dave. He keeps telling you how he will leave his wife but he never does. He keeps saying that he needs more time and that a divorce will take time.

As you stand in front of the closest in his office, you think back to earlier when you were making out with Dave and he totally flipped out because of something so insignificant.

You wore the red Chanel lipstick he bought you, the one he asked you to put on, and then suck his cock until the red color was smeared everywhere. Yeah, that one. You jokingly pressed your lips to his white shirt collar and immediately got shoved away from him.

“What the hell, Sunny, are you serious? Why would you do this?”

His face was flushed from all the anger coursing through his veins. You could see how he clenched his jaw as he pointed towards the red mark you left, something he will certainly not get out of the fabric unless he wanted to explain to Carol what happened.

“Are you kidding me? Dave, you’ve been saying for weeks how you’re gonna separate and yet here we are, still hiding. I don’t wanna be a secret anymore.”

You smiled somewhat sinisterly while you walked up behind him as he was standing at the sink in his office bathroom, “I want her gone. You’re mine.” You slide your hand around his waist and towards his crotch to squeeze his hard bulge.

Dave, however, is still pissed, so he pushed you off again, “Sunny, get the hell out of here. Now!” His loud booming voice made you jump and obey immediately as you walked out.

You are still mad that he would blow up at you about such a minor thing. You feel like being petty. Dave has a closet filled with at least ten spare shirts - well, after your earlier actions it’s only nine left - and you plan on ruining all of them.

One by one, you take the smooth, clean white linen shirts of the individual hangers and place them in your lap as you sit down in his massive chair. Methodically, you apply the lipstick and start pressing your lips all over each shirt until there’s only one left unscathed.

When you are just about to press your lips to the last one, the office door swings open and you immediately jump up.

Dave is back earlier than you expected. His eyes take in the scene before him and he looks livid, eyebrows knit together, jaw clenched and his gaze sharp when he addresses you with a low and intimidating voice, “Sunny, you better explain yourself before you get in serious trouble.”

You just give him a half-hearted shrug as you look away from him.

“Fuck you Dave.”

You roll your eyes and a smirk slowly grows on your face. You quietly giggle as you turn away from him and pick out the scissors he keeps in his desk drawer. You start humming happily as you cut up the last shirt while he’s watching. Once you’re done you throw the fabric cuts at his face.

“Sunny I swear, if you don’t apologize right know on your fucking knees, we-“ You cut in immediately with two simple words that set of a chain of events: “Make me.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s toe to toe with you, towering above you and ripping the scissors from your grasp to throw them away.

“You’ve made a fucking mistake, little Sun, I’m gonna make you apologize.”

As you roll your eyes up at him, his hand shoots out again to grab your throat in an iron grip.

“You know, Sunny, when I first saw you, I thought you were a sweet Angel but turns out, you are just a bratty cunt that can’t get enough.”

You try to shake your head but his grip is unrelenting, so you have no chance to disagree.

He eases up and spins you around, shoving you face-first over the desk like a déjà vu from the first night all those months ago.

With one hand, he holds you down and with the other, he tears your pants and panties over your ass and down your legs.

He delivers relentless blows to your cheeks left and right till your tears start spilling down your cheeks. You don’t even think about screaming, he wouldn’t stop anyway and you know that it’s deserved. You just bite down on your lips until you’re almost bleeding.

“D..Da..Dave, please!”

You mumble through tears. You know that he enjoys seeing you cry; it is evident by the warm bulge pressing into your bruised cheeks from behind.

“What was that baby,huh? Speak up, little one?”

He starts grinding into you gently, rocking his hips into yours.

“Please, please. I’m sorry, please.”

You are getting more and more desperate, even starting to whine when he starts pulling away.

“Shhh, Sunny, be a good girl for me, okay? You wanna be my good girl, don’t you.?”

It’s incredible how he goes from being mean and degrading to being sweet and loving.

You can hear how he unzips his pants and soon, he is behind you again, slowly dragging his leaking tip through your folds.

“Hmmm, baby, she’s crying just like you. She enjoyed that, didn’t she?” He starts laughing.

The head keeps catching onto your entrance which is pulsating and gushing.

“Dave, pleaseeee, put it in, please.”

“Are you gonna apologize?”

It took you a moment to gather yourself.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I ruined your shirts.”

“Good job, baby, now was that so hard? You need to have more patience, Sunny.”

“Yes, Dave.”

“Nah- ah ah.”

“Yes, Doctor York.” He enjoys displaying how superior he is to you.

And then he pushes into your quivering pussy. At first, he does it slowly but once half of his length has disappeared inside of you, he decides to shove himself into you in one quick thrust, filling you to the brim.

“Ahhh…y..y yes, Doctor York, ughhhh. Fuck me harder.”

“What’s the magic word, princess?”

“Please, please, harder Doctor York.”

He immediately picks up his pace, your combined labored breaths and the slapping of skin filling the office.

You are convinced that you will wake up tomorrow with bruises on your hip bones from hitting the edge of the table repeatedly.

“Are you close, baby?”

Your pussy answers for you, tightening around his cock.

“Yes, she is, I’m gonna fill you up, okay, Sunny?”

You weakly nod with your face smashed against the smooth wooden surface.

His hand slips between your thighs and rubs your clit with quick stripes that have you unraveling in no time.

“Da..Dr.York I’m gonna come. I’m cumming, don't stop, don’t stop.”

You have to clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the pending moans.

“Yes, baby, come on my cock. Come on, Sunny, be a good girl and come for me.”

With his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly, his fingers drawing circles on your clit, and his Dirty words combined, Dave pushes you over the edge.

Your thighs instinctively want to close but he shoves them back open, harshly fucking you through your orgasm. Your cunt tightens around him so beautifully that he can’t resist any longer and starts coming deep inside of you.

“Take what I give you, Sunny, you take it all and keep it inside, okay? To remind you of who you belong to.”

He leans over you, his chest brushing against your back. Dave nuzzles into your neck and leaves soft kisses on your throat, behind your ear and on your slightly exposed shoulder.

You relish in the warm feeling filling you.

“Thank you Dave, I love you.” You whisper in daze.

“I love you too Princess.”

Npt: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @guiltyasdave @sizzlingcloudmentality @yorksgirl @vivian-pascal @mountainsandmayhem @msjarvis @sawymredfox @thundermartini @axshadows @strang3lov3 @missyorkswhore @littlemisspascal

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

#dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #shortieswritingchallenge #writing challenge #Doctor Au #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york equalizer 2 #My writing #Mina writes

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joeyfranchise · 10 days ago

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conversation hearts

part one: cya l8r!

uo!justin herbert x uo!reader

summary: what happens when your academic rival and sworn enemy starts acting like he’s sweet on you?

word count: 2k.

warnings: none really, some angst and fluff for this part! minors still please dni with my work!

note: part one of a lil something cute for v-day! 💘 i’ll have part two up so soon! also special shoutout to my wifeyyy @joeyburrrow, thank you for always keeping me motivated and being in my corner. ily 😭

[pt. 2]

the bell on the door chimed softly as you pushed it open and stepped inside the coffee shop. the rich aroma wafted through the air and surrounded you immediately as your favorite barista called out a quick welcome to you. you pulled your tote bag closer to your side as your eyes scanned the shop, and you smiled when you located your friends at a booth near the back. you made your way over to them quickly, immediately chuckling at their conversation.

“so i told her to put a sock in it! like seriously, nobody cares!” your friend alice giggled, her saccharine sweet voice filling your ears as you sat. she was gesturing with her hands as she spoke, and though you didn’t know the subject matter just yet, you laughed along too. next to her, your roommate laura was nursing a very large iced vanilla latte as she propped her head on her hand.

“i agree,” laura stated, glancing around the table. “also guys, this iced latte is the bomb diggity.”

clara, your other close friend and alice’s roommate, laughed at their conversation as well before turning her gaze toward you. “why the long face?” she asked, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

the gesture was sweet and provided comfort, something you appreciated about her. “just pissed about biology again,” you replied, looking around the group. your friends made sympathetic sounds as they looked you over, knowing how hard it’d been for you this semester.

the barista walked over seconds later with a large iced matcha and sat it in front of you, smiling as she placed it on the coaster. “looked like you were having a rough day,” she tutted, patting her hand on your shoulder softly. “this one’s on the house.”

you thanked her profusely before she walked away, and then you turned your attention back to your friends. “was justin pissing you off again?” laura asked, a concerned gaze spread across her features, “you seem so flustered.”

and she was right. you were flustered. he’d been making your life so miserable lately… but the problem was that he wasn’t really doing anything at all. you couldn’t stand him because he always seemed to know the right answer, he was so smart and the only person who seemed to truly rival you academically. it was frustrating, infuriating that a quarterback who’d most likely end up going pro was beating you out of academic achievements, especially when you wanted to make this your career.

you cleared your throat and looked around the group before beginning to tell them about your very strange morning, and your very awkward encounter with justin.

—

the day started innocently enough. laura had an earlier class than you so she was gone when you woke up, but she’d made sure to leave you a note behind with a muffin sitting next to it, and you made sure to thank her while you were telling the story. she nodded in response, engaged with what you had to say.

you had taken a quick shower and gotten dressed, packed your bag and grabbed your water bottle and headed off to class, all normal parts of your day. all three of the girls focused their attention on you while you spoke, excited for what you had to say next.

once you got to class, things started to take a turn… but not for the worst. your eyes immediately found justin, already seated at the front of the room, and that had always pissed you off. his much larger frame made it difficult to see sometimes, but you had to pick your battles and today you’d decided this wasn’t one. you took a seat a few rows behind him and grabbed your computer and notebook from your bag before placing them on the table. the lecture was short and you tried to focus on the busy work your professor had assigned, scribbling thoughts into your notebook mindlessly as you scrolled through the documents she’d sent over on your computer.

it wasn’t hard work by any means, but it seemed to be tripping up a few people in the class based on how many students you’d seen trot over to her desk to ask questions in the last half-hour. after about the fifth or sixth student, she stood from the desk and walked to the podium to address the class, something you knew would end up angering you.

“since we are having difficulties with the assignments,” she began, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “you’ll do it as partners. you may pick your partner, but i don’t want to see or hear any playing around. and it’s still due tomorrow by 11:59p.m.”

you sighed heavily. you didn’t know hardly anyone in the class nor did you want to do partner work with anyone. suddenly, you heard a deep voice speak to the professor, asking her “can we work alone?” and you knew it was justin.

you watched her shake her head no and justin tipped his head back in frustration as he realized he’d have to pick someone. he gathered his things and stood from the desk, towering over the rest of the room as he walked slowly toward your table and sat down next to you.

you looked him up and down as he took up most of the space in your area, disgust evident on your face. “i figured we could work together,” he said, rubbing his hand over one of his biceps, “at least this way there’ll be no cheating and we can both do an even amount of work.”

as high-school as it sounded, he was right. to this day people still tried to get you to take over and do most of the work in projects. you shrugged reluctantly before answering him. “fine, we can work together. which sections do you want to do?”

you watched him scroll through the information on his computer before telling you that he could do sections 1a through 12c if you’d take 1d through 12f.

“okay,” you softly mumbled. justin’s eyes lingered on you for a few moments before he turned back to the work, and you wondered what he was thinking.

he didn’t know why you hated him so much. he admired you, he admired your brain. justin didn’t think he was a naturally smart person, he had to study really hard all the time to get the grades he did, and for you it came so naturally. he could kinda tell you saw him as competition, but he never understood why you’d always been so cold to him.

he watched you as you worked quietly, but he could sense the agitation that was bubbling up inside of you.

“why are you staring at me?” you finally asked him, your eyes shooting daggers in his direction. “sorry,” he replied, looking back at his computer screen. there were fifteen minutes left of class, something you were both silently thankful for.

you began writing answers down in your notebook again as you watched him slowly stick his hand into his bag, grabbing something softly before pulling it out. his large hand obstructed your view from what he was holding, but whatever it was sounded a little noisy as the tiny box shook from his movements.

he placed the small pink box on the table and slid it toward you and you slowly realized that it was a package of your favorite valentines day candy, conversation hearts. you gave him a look as if to ask “for me?”, and he nodded softly.

you picked the small box up and popped it open, dumping a few of the candies out on to the table. your eyes scanned the silly messages on the tiny hearts before you picked up a pink one and popped it into your mouth. the sweet candy immediately began to melt on your tongue and the corners of your mouth turned up slightly into a smile.

“how’d you know i liked these?” you asked justin, a pleased look adorning his features. “i overheard you telling laura you loved them the other day in the coffee shop. i just wanted to get you some because… well, just because,” he replied. he was lying, but you didn’t need to know that yet. he got them for you because he had a huge crush on you, and even if that didn’t phase you at all, he still wanted to be your friend.

you were confused but you still mumbled a quiet “thank you.”

the last bit of class went by quickly, and once you were dismissed you grabbed up all your stuff and quickly shoved it in your bag, ready to head over to the coffee shop to meet the girls and debrief this whole situation. justin packed his things as well, and before he turned to leave he quickly asked you, “are you free tonight? o-only because we have to make a powerpoint for this as well.”

he was nervous, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t too. his question had almost made you panic, you thought maybe he was trying to ask you on a date. “yeah, i’ll be free around six, does that work for you?” you replied, rubbing your arm sheepishly.

“six sounds perfect, do you wanna come to my dorm? my roommate will be out so it’ll be quiet and we can focus,” he added.

you shook your head yes as you slung your tote over your shoulder. “that sounds good to me! laura will be home but she’ll just be watching reruns of friends while she does her work,” you laughed.

“i love that show,” justin smiled. you exchanged numbers quickly and justin fired off his dorm number to you in a quick text.

you looked down at the table and saw the box of candy still sitting there, so you picked it up and began to place the pieces you hadn’t eaten yet back in the box. justin was examining them as you did so, and before you could grab the last one he trapped it under his finger before sliding it across the table to you.

“well, seeya later!” he smirked, lifting his finger off the candy and turning toward the door. you watched him walk away before you looked down at the little green heart that sat on top of the wooden tabletop, its yellow lettering staring back up at you. ‘cya l8r’ was printed boldly on top of the tiny confection.

—

all of your friends stared at you with wide eyes before alice squealed, doing a little happy dance in her seat. laura and clara giggled at your confusion. “what’s so funny? i’m upset that i have to do this project with him and you guys are laughing?” you asked, feeling slightly offended.

“oh my god, don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, y/n!” alice joked before taking a long swig of her iced chai. you took a hefty drink of your matcha before replying. “oblivious to what exactly?” you questioned.

“oh my god, earth to y/n!” clara jested, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “he likes you!”

you grimaced as the three of them giggled again. “he doesn’t like me. why would he like me?”

“hello?” laura laughed, “he literally got your favorite candy just because he overheard us talking. and he wanted to be partners with you so you wouldn’t have to do all the work for your assignment. anddddd the little joke with the candy was so cute and corny it’s like it came straight from a rom-com.”

maybe laura was right… maybe they all were. you had never thought of justin as more than anything but an academic obstacle that stood in your way of being the best in the class… but maybe he did like you.

“it doesn’t matter if he likes me or not,” you finally spoke, trying to keep your tone calm. “i mean, thinking about it now… he is kinda cute…” you mumbled, staring off into the distance. it was no lie that justin was handsome, but something in your head was telling you to snap out of it!

your friends all eyed you suspiciously before you spoke again. “anyway, it doesn’t matter if he likes me. i’m going over to do a project and that’s it. after that, we go back to being rivals.”

alice cocked an eyebrow at you before she answered. “it sounds like the rivalry is pretty one-sided.”

that couldn’t have been any more true.

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @slimshiesty @fourburrow @wheresdylansoscar @heartforherbert @joe9cool @itsjustjackie55 @emsdevs @a-whiterose

#justin herbert #justin herbert angst #justin herbert fics #justin herbert fluff #justin herbert x yn #justin herbert fic #justin herbert smut #justin herbert imagine #los angeles chargers #nfl #smut #angst #fluff #fanfiction #justin herbert fanfic

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sirjaketkiszka · 22 days ago

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Jake Kiszka One Shot: Best Friend’s Brother

When your boyfriend breaks up with you, your head falls on the nearest shoulder; Jake’s.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak, self-doubt, a hint of angst, fear of loneliness, sweet Jake <3, fluff, and that’s all, folks!

(Let me know if I missed any!)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors and grammar mistakes.

a/n— Here’s to my fluff lovers! Apologies to the individual who requested this one shot nearly three weeks ago, I hope I did your request justice! Shoutout to the beta readers who provided feedback and reassurance so I could finish quicker. Enjoy!! <3

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You had nowhere else to turn.

The tears sting your eyes as they keep falling, blurring your vision while you lift your closed fist, gently pounding on the door of your best friend’s apartment. A moment of doubt passes, realizing how late it is and that you haven’t even bothered to call before showing up unannounced.

Your body shivers in the cool breeze of the late-summer air, your arms crossing over your chest as you wait patiently, with your back slightly hunched to preserve all remaining body heat. Rushing over here, you hadn’t thought to wear a heavier jacket, and honestly, you didn’t know it would be this cold. Without thinking, you knock again, letting your arms rest at your sides as your fists grip anxiously at nothing. This was a mistake, you thought to yourself.

The surrounding stillness is deafening; a gentle swish of wind blows past, carrying the dewy scent of the quickly approaching fall. In the distance, tires tread across the gravelly roads, the muffled crunch becoming white noise. The melancholy symphony of crickets is a reminder of the sleeping world around you; a reminder that Josh is, in fact, asleep. Reluctantly, you cut your losses, ultimately giving up and taking a mental note to return tomorrow.

Just as you take a step back from the door, you perk up and stop your movements when you hear the faint footsteps behind the heavy wood. Thank God.

However, your optimism fades when the door swings open, revealing the last person you would want to see at a time like this. Quickly wiping the streaming tears from your blotched cheeks, you fix your posture, sniffling and peering over his shoulder. You don’t bother to greet him, having all manners fly out the window.

“Is Josh available?” You rush out.

“No, he’s asleep right now–” Jake’s voice is irritated, understandably so, but his mouth shuts when he dissects your appearance; flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a nose that would beat Rudolph in a competition. He’s equally disheveled, most likely having just woken up from your knocking. His hair is tousled, and he’s sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a thoroughly worn t-shirt with a stretched neckline. His eyes are squinting, likely adjusting to the overhead light of the outside hallway. “Is everything okay?” His eyes soften, along with his tone.

“Oh, um,” You divert your gaze from his watchful eyes, “I’m fine.” You should’ve known Josh would be asleep by now, it’s nearly 3 am and he has work in the morning, but you still feel disappointed by the information relayed. While Josh would 100% want to be woken up, and would willingly stay up until the sun rises, you’re unwilling to put that responsibility on him. If there’s one thing about you, you refuse to be a burden. Sure, Josh has never made you feel like one, but regardless, you’re willing to wait to avoid messing with his sleep schedule.

Jake pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you sure–”

“Just tell him to call me when he wakes up, please.” Cutting him off, you turn away, ready to make a run for the flight of stairs to your right.

“Hey…” Before you can step away, his fingers wrap around your wrist, halting your movements. “What happened?” His voice is as interrogating as it is concerned, and his face is stern, pushing for more information than you’re willing to give.

“Just…” Your eyes focus on his unwavering hand, keeping you in place. Hesitating, you consider telling him. “I’d rather speak with Josh– I’m sorry for bothering you this late. You should go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” He repeats, “You’re no bother, I promise.”

“I’m sure, Jake.” You dismiss him, unfamiliar with his sudden concern. While you’ve been friends with Josh for years, you and Jake never got around to getting to know each other. So, his insistent apprehensiveness is new to you. It makes you skeptical– unwilling to confide in him, even though you probably should. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” His tone is bordering on vexing and his persistence maddens you. Why does he want to know so badly?

“Jake.” Your voice wavers, attempting to be a warning, but nearly cracking like the front you’ve put on. The warmth of his palm pierces through your already heated skin, and while your thoughts contradict the words that leave your mouth, you haven’t pulled away just yet. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you.”

“I just want to help–”

“I’m fine, Jake!” Your raised voice startles both of you, his eyes wide and mouth parted, unable to respond. With your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse blares in your ears from the rising heat that settles in the crooks of your neck. Silence falls and a tinge of guilt settles in your lower stomach. “I’m sorry, that was… rude of me.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” He shakes his head, dropping your wrist and stepping back a half-step. “I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sorry.”

“Jake–” You step closer, and for a reason you can’t quite place, you don’t want him to leave you just yet.

“I’ll let Josh know you stopped by.” He’s closing the door now, his eyes locked on yours for a moment before drifting to the floor.

“Jake, wait.” You plaster your hand against the door, preventing him from closing it. He stops, looks at you, and waits for you to continue. His features are unreadable; relaxed, but simultaneously tense. Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes find the ceiling of the apartment hallway, unable to look him in the eyes. “My boyfriend and I broke up.”

“Oh,” His face softens, and he opens the door fully again, making your hand drop to your side, “I’m so sorry.” The look on his face disturbs you. It’s a look you never thought you’d receive from him; pity. He actually feels sorry for you. Sure, Jake isn’t a complete asshole, but you’re not close. This is odd. And yet, you feel the comfort radiating off his stature.

“Yeah, well, he broke up with me.” Your name rolls off his tongue in an empathetic whisper from your further elaboration and clear upset in your tone. Without a second thought, Jake steps through the threshold and wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a consoling hug. The force of his affection causes a small oof to huff out of you, and it takes a moment of initial shock to pass before you reciprocate. Despite the unfamiliarity, you welcome his warmth and feel the tension in your muscles melt as you allow yourself to slump against him. His arms adjust, gently pulling you against him in a firm hold, providing support to your trembling frame.

Your hands interlock behind him and you take a deep breath, your eyes involuntarily closing as tears threaten to resurface. But, when you inhale deeply, his attractive scent fills your senses and overcomes you. It only adds to his solace; manly, musky, smoky, and vaguely of cinnamon and various spices. You fight the urge to hum when it infiltrates your lungs.

“Come inside.” His voice vibrates against you, pulling you from your racing thoughts. “We can talk about it.”

“Oh, that’s okay, really.” You chuckle nervously as you lean back to look at him, still holding onto him. He doesn’t let go either. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Please?” He reasons with you, tilting his head, his eyes begging, “At least sleep over and wait until Josh wakes up. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

The offer is appealing. And he is right— you shouldn’t be alone and certainly don’t want to be. You genuinely enjoy this side of Jake; caring, worrisome, and considerate. It’s not that he’s never been those things before, but he’s simply your best friend’s brother. You question why you never considered being his friend as well.

“Fine. I’ll stay.” It truly didn’t take much convincing. You’d either decline and return to an empty apartment for the rest of the night, or accept and potentially spend time with Jake. It’s better than being alone, so you clearly opted for the latter.

He smiles softly at your submission, unwrapping his arms from around you, and guiding you into the apartment. Stepping aside to let you walk in, he shuts the door behind you. You’ve been in this apartment thousands of times, some even without Josh present, but you can’t shake the awkward feeling overcoming you. Usually, you and Jake coexist, not acknowledging each other. That’s not an option now, as he steps around you and walks over to the couch, taking a seat.

“Come here.” He pats the spot next to him.

Without any protest, your body gravitates toward him, sitting next to him with just mere inches of space between the two of you. His eyes are watchful; aware of every micro-expression, muscle twitch, and breathing pattern. You feel… seen.

“Jake, I appreciate you letting me in, but really, you don’t have to do this.” You assure him, letting him know there’s still a way out of this conversation. “I’m okay with waiting for Josh.”

“I know I don’t have to… I want to.” His expression is serious, his eyebrows furrowed with determination, to let you know that he’s genuine, “You’re Josh’s best friend and, by extension, I care about you. Josh would do the same.”

He’s not wrong. Josh wouldn’t have let you leave even if you tried to run, though, Jake wouldn’t be that extreme.

Your shoulders slouch and your bottom lip begins to quiver, remembering the traumatic events that occurred just hours before. It doesn’t take much persuasion for you to pour your heart out to Jake; laying out every single minute detail of your boyfriend— well, ex-boyfriend— breaking your heart.

Jake looks horrified with his eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared in pure indignation. He doesn’t interrupt you, though. Instead, he silently listens, letting you essentially word vomit. It isn’t until you finish talking that you realize tears have gathered just below your chin from the constant stream leaving your watering eyes.

“I’m sorry, that was a lot.” You let out a small chuckle, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away the trail of tears.

“Don’t apologize.” He reaches out to rest a hand on your knee. His form of comfort seems to be physical touch—he and Josh are similar in that way. “So, you’ve told me everything, but how are you?”

“I’m—” You have to think for a moment. Angry? Yes. Sad? Absolutely. “Disappointed in myself.”

“Oh, come here,” His voice is gentle as his hands land on your shoulders and pull you into him. He scooches closer so your head can fall onto his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you close, while his hands cradle the back of your head. “Why?” His tone is curious.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” You sigh, closing your eyes and hiccuping into his chest. Great, here come the tears again. The fabric of his shirt soaks every fallen drop, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “What if there was something I could’ve done better?” You whisper.

Jake mutters your name, his arms constricting to hold you in a firmer grip, “Listen to me, him breaking up with you… that is not a you problem. Do you understand?” His low voice rumbles in his chest, emanating a comforting vibrating sensation against your cheek.

“But—”

“There is no ‘but,’” His stern words cut you off, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him from your immediate defense, “I know you. You’ve been nothing but kind to him. And I know him.” You forget that Jake has met your ex-boyfriend a few times. Mainly through passing, but it never takes anyone long to realize how shitty he was. “He never deserved you.”

“It’s just…” You think of your next words, feeling embarrassed by the vulnerability you’re presenting to Jake. He stays silent, letting you collect your thoughts, and you sigh, “What if he’s right…?” Your trembling voice is barely audible.

“What?” Jake shifts, leaning back so you’ll look at him. His face is blurry, courtesy of the tears that gather on your waterline, but his features are riddled with concern.

“What if…” You sigh again, and your shoulders slump in a silent sob, “What if no one wants me?”

It’s a real fear you’ve dealt with for, well, however long you were with your ex. The beginning of your relationship was pure bliss, as all honeymoon phases are. However, by the one-year mark, arguments became a daily routine. Then, your second anniversary came around, and well, you had hoped it would get better. It never did.

Josh did try convincing you to break up with him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice how unhappy you were with him. However, the longer the relationship lasted, and the more your self-esteem dwindled while being with him, you figured… no one else would ever love you. Not like him. If you can even call it love.

You’ve been out of the dating pool for years now, and the idea of having to restart frightens you. You started dating your ex when you were young, but now that you're fully into adulthood, the dating scene is different.

“Someone will want you.” Jake’s voice is unyielding. His expression is serious. “And someone is going to love you. The way you should be loved. Okay?”

“Okay…” Surprisingly, his words do provide a sense of relief. He seems so sure when he tells you these things; as if he knows personally that they will happen— like he’ll make them happen.

“Good.” His hands move to the sides of your face, and your pulse quickens when he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead and placing a soft kiss against the creased skin. The intimate gesture startles you, but a gentle wave of disappointment settles in your gut. What were you expecting? You chalk it up to your overwhelming emotions and incessant need to forget this night ever happened— a night where your heart has been shattered by a man who never deserved the chance to begin with. “Do you want to lay down until Josh wakes up? He’s working an early shift, so he should be awake fairly soon.” Three hours to be exact.

You gently nod, your face still cradled in his hands; they’re soft and warm, despite the callouses that formed as a result of his passion, and they’re just barely applying pressure to your tear-stained cheeks. Lowering his hands, he stands up and waits for you to do so as well.

“What?”

“Just follow me, please?” When you hesitantly stand up, he places his hands on your shoulders, shifting you in the direction of the bedrooms and bathrooms down the hall. He guides you toward them— the main bathroom is at the end of the hall. You assume he’s taking you there, so you can freshen up and rid your face of the drying tears. And you’re correct.

Stepping into the bathroom, he turns the light on and you’re met with your reflection. Jeez. Somehow, your hair is a mess and your eyes are beginning to swell from the sheer force of crying. Your overall appearance is… puffy.

“I look terrible.” You say in disbelief, letting out a pathetic chuckle.

“Oh, stop it.” He looks at you through the mirror’s reflection, “Sit.” He gestures to the bathroom counter.

Doing as he says, you turn around and hop onto the counter, sitting beside the sink and facing Jake. He steps forward, crouching down into the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a washcloth, and soaking it with cold water. You expect him to hand it to you, but he steps before you, standing between your open legs. The position is intimate, and entirely compromising if Josh were to walk in. With pure focus on his face, he brings the washcloth up to one of your cheeks and gently wipes the tear-stained skin. The coldness of the cloth soothes your flushed cheek and your eyes flutter close from how nice it feels. His breathing is shallow and he’s close enough that you can hear the air exhaling from his nose. He continues to the other cheek, making sure to swipe the cloth along your jawline, nose, and chin. You’ll never understand what has warranted such care from Jake, but it’s best not to question it now.

When his actions stop, you open your eyes and nearly jolt when you realize how close he is. His expression is conflicting, and his eyes scan your features, but he steps back when he finally makes eye contact with you.

“All done.” He clears his throat, giving you enough space to slide off the counter. Turning to look at yourself, your face is much less red, and even a little less puffy. It makes you wonder how many crying girls Jake has had to comfort, and unfortunately, it’s a thought that surprisingly discomforts you. Coming up behind you, his hands gravitate to your hair and his fingers softly run through the strands, being careful not to tug. He flattens any imperfections and pulls it all behind your shoulders, “See? Not terrible at all.”

His eyes catch yours again, and your eyes hold his for a moment before you smile, “Thank you, Jake.”

“Anytime.” He returns a smile, “How about some sleep?”

“I am pretty tired.” You admit, turning around to face him. Jake nods knowingly, snaking his hand behind you and resting it on your lower back. You’re entirely capable of heading to the couch yourself, but who are you to deny a helping hand?

Jake guides you out of the bathroom, turns the light off, and walks with you down the hall. You’re sure to be quiet when you walk past Josh’s room, feeling unsettled by the fact that he has no idea you’re even here. While you’re coming closer to the living room at the end of the hall, Jake turns you to his bedroom. Before you can utter a word of protest, you’re walking through the threshold and Jake is flicking the switch to turn on the lamp in the far corner of his bedroom.

The bedroom is dimly lit– the covers in slight disarray from him leaving his bed to answer the door. Like Jake, his room is dark, comforting, and, for lack of a better word, mysterious. The decorations on the walls and surfaces don’t give away much about him, other than the fact that he’s fascinated by pirates, oddly enough. In the opposite corner of the lamp, there are guitars presented on stands, and an amp just beside them. You’re stunned, feeling as though you’re intruding on a private part of his life.

To you, your bedroom is your sanctuary. Only a select few are permitted to tread such confidential territory. It’s not like Jake has a “Stay out!” sign attached to his bedroom door, but still, this feels like a rite of passage. A look into his life outside of what you’ve always known.

“Jake—”

“Relax,” he chuckles from behind you, figuring how you might interpret this gesture. “You can stay in here while I sleep on the couch.”

Well, that’s awfully generous. “Jake, that’s kind of you, but you’ve already done so much for me. I can sleep on the couch— I promise it’s fine.”

He waves you off while stepping around to approach the bed, as a way to say “Don’t be ridiculous.” Fixing the covers, he pulls them back and motions to the open spot. “You deserve comfort. Not the couch.”

Your feet shuffle in his direction, gravitating toward the plush mattress. “Okay…” You’re uncertain, but Jake’s expression softens you, “Is it really that comfortable? I’d argue that the couch is pretty damn close.”

“Only one way to find out.” He smirks, happy to see sparks of your snide self coming to the surface. Playfully rolling your eyes, you kick off your shoes and sit on the bed, turning to push your legs under the covers and lay back against the soft mountain of pillows.

“Oh my…” The words shutter from your lips, genuinely surprised. The sheets are still warm from his previous laying in them, and it only adds to the overwhelming comforting sensation.

He chuckles, his lips flashing his satisfied smile from your involuntary reaction.

The air from the pillows and mattress deflates, creating a molding sensation, and hugging your every curve. It’s… heavenly. Perhaps all that crying made your body incredibly sore and tired, but that’s quickly a distant memory when you're practically melting into Jake’s bed.

Jake pulls the covers over you, engulfing you in a heavy plush comforter that’s saturated with his scent. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nuzzle deeper into his pillows and grip the edge of the comforter, pulling it up just below your chin.

“What’d I tell you?” He laughs, his eyelids relaxing to admire how comfortable you look in his bed.

“You were right.”

“Music to my ears.” He teases, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay…” While you can sleep, and you are tired, you hate watching Jake turn to leave, reaching for the light switch and sparing you one more glance. “Jake–” He freezes, his fingers resting on the switch, looking at you over his shoulder. “I’m not tired.” You lie.

“Oh.” His hand falls, and he turns around, stepping toward you, “But you said– Is there something wrong?”

“No, I–” You what? “Can you stay with me?”

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. You feel stupid for asking such a question. This entire situation felt unreal; when you came here, you had hoped to confide in Josh, but here you are.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” It was a ridiculous request, he’d never agree. “You don’t have to–”

“I’ll stay. Scoot over.” His words frantically cut you off and his legs move in stride, making you move over quickly. He pulls back the covers and slides in effortlessly. Although, when he settles underneath the comforter, he only leans against the headboard. His legs lay before him, and he peers down at you, “Come here.”

Without thinking, you shift closer, watching him cautiously as he uncovers his lap and pats his thigh. It’s a position you’re familiar with, especially with Josh. The two of you would take turns resting your heads on each other’s lap to rant about various topics. It’s your form of therapy. Though, this feels entirely different with Jake. It is as if you’re entering unknown territory, one you can’t return from.

Still, you rest your head against his thigh, which happens to be pleasantly muscular. It takes a moment before you both relax, silence deafening the room and amplifying your steadying breaths. You hadn’t thought this far before foolishly asking him to stay, but you were unwilling to return to acquaintances with Jake.

“Thank you,” you cut through the silence, your voice quiet, “for being so kind.”

“Of course.” He stares down at you, his eyes settling on the side of your face while your cheek rests against him. You can hear his hand shuffling, although you’re unsure where until you feel his soft touch glide along your hair, pushing the strands back from your face. The act is soothing, your eyes closing to revel in the feeling. His fingers drag along your scalp, applying gentle pressure and a quiet hum settles deep within your chest.

Confliction pulls at your thoughts; just hours ago you were being broken up with and now you’re lying in another man’s bed. Truthfully, a man you hadn’t paid much attention to in the past years. To be fair, it was never on purpose. Your ex-boyfriend was never fond of male friendships; Josh was hardly an exception. You silently curse yourself for missing out on Jake. He’s just as sweet and kind as his twin; selfless, generous, and attentive. All traits he’s presented in just one hour. You imagine the years you could’ve spent experiencing it first-hand. If only you hadn’t spent them pushing him away for the sake of your ex.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You mumble.

“Why? For what?” His movements halt, and your eyes open, your head turning to look up at him. His eyebrows are synched, riddled with concern.

“Not being your friend sooner.” You confess, now reflecting on all the times he obviously tried, but you were dismissive. “Listen, if I was ever mean to you–”

“Don’t.” He stops you, shaking his head and resting his hand against the cheek that once rested on his lap. “Don’t do that. You’ll only upset yourself further.”

“But–”

“There is no ‘but.’” He repeats his earlier phrase. “We’re friends now. We have time.”

Although he and Josh are certainly twins, they feel so… different. The connection that’s forming with Jake frightens you; it’s unknown and uncharted. With Josh, your friendship was immediate and effortless. With Jake, however, this newfound friendship doesn’t feel very friendly. Something tells you that the way you both say the word “friends,” it’s foreign and not entirely what you want.

Think realistically, you tell yourself. Perhaps sleep deprivation is manipulating your thoughts. For God’s sake, you’re emotionally vulnerable and the wounds are still bleeding.

“I know, but,” Despite his disapproval of the word, you use it anyway, “we could’ve had more time.” And had Jake been fully integrated into your life sooner… Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe if you had met Jake before him…

“Hey.” his voice softly protests, and he lifts your head from his lap, moving to your level and laying right beside you. He lays face-to-face with you, examining the hills and curves of your face, accentuated by the dim lighting from his warm-toned lamp. He sighs, absently bringing his hand to your face and brushing the loose hair behind your ear, “I promise, it’s okay.”

You nod, taking his word for it, even though you still feel unease and uncertainty. Sliding his hand just behind your head, he guides you to rest on his chest as he turns onto his back, staring intently at the ceiling. Your cheek molds against him, his body heat reddening the soft flesh, no doubt. Chasing comfort, you sling your arm over his waist and you’re surprised by how natural the position feels. Your leg intertwines with his, settling between them, as his arm wraps around your shoulder. His heart pounds in his chest, and regardless of his calm demeanor, his pulse is racing.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“I wish I knew you were this great sooner.” You laugh weakly against his chest, feeling him pull you in closer.

“Me too.” He admits with a sigh, subtle disappointment lacing his tone.

A comfortable silence falls, the only sound being the faint pounding of his heart and gentle exhales through his nose. Your eyelids grow heavy, your mind only focusing on the pattern of his breathing and the beat of his heart. A large yawn overcomes you, and you sigh deeply as it exits your lungs, your eyes settling on the open door.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“The door’s open.” You point out.

“That’s okay.” He turns to follow your gaze.

“What if Josh sees us like this?” With some explanation, he wouldn’t care, but a heads-up wouldn’t hurt either. You can only imagine how disconcerting it’ll make Josh feel if he were to walk in on his best friend cuddled up with his twin brother. If you had given it more thought, and hadn’t let your emotions dictate your every decision tonight, you would’ve been more cautious. However, Jake shuts down that thought.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’m not moving.” He decides, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed. You decide to do the same, paying attention to the way his heart rate slows as he relaxes and, in turn, relaxes you. Jake’s arm holds you firmly, and your hand slides from his waist to his chest, resting against the solid flesh. Sleep follows shortly and engulfs you both in a comforting embrace.

Thump-thump.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist & tags:

@hailthegodsong @demolitiondanchipsversion

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jacob thomas kiszka #jake kiskza x reader #jake gvf #jake kiska fic #gvf fic #gvf #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka one shot #jake x reader #greta van fluff #jake fluff

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bedlam-barbie · 5 days ago

Text

Sucker for pain

Or Attention part 4

Pairing: In Ho x recruiter!reader ; salesman x recruiter!reader; somehow this became a love triangle

Warnings:jealous!InHo; power play; knife play;dom!salesman; sub!reader; marks, bruises and hickies; love triangles yadda yadda; hurt no comfort; no smut but explicit content

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: After the events at the ball, reader is left shaken, reckless and in need to quiet the voices, so she does what she does best: runs to Salesman’s bed. Regrettably so, she has to face In ho the next morning in the board meeting.

Author’s note: I know it’s been a while, but I have been stressed, had a massive writer’s block, felt like quitting it a bunch of times. This chapter is very Salesman heavy, I took the decision to make it a full-blown love triangle, especially after reading your comments and it is not the last part. Now I want to write more. Anyway, shoutout to my best friend, Leila who proofread this for me and supported me to continue.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

After the chaos had died down, she found herself doing what she knew best—seeking refuge in the Salesman. The world outside felt too loud, too suffocating, so she retreated into the familiar silence he offered. As always, Gong Yoo was waiting for her in his hotel room, unwavering, ready to deliver whatever she needed. He never asked why she was upset, never pried into why her mood had shifted so dramatically in just a few short hours. He didn’t need to know the reasons behind the storm inside her. It was something she’d come to rely on—his quiet presence. No questions, no judgment, no awkward silences or almost-kisses that threatened to turn into something more. Just two people using each other for comfort, for escape. That was the arrangement, and it worked.

But tonight was different. Tonight, the emptiness in her chest felt too vast, the numbness too heavy. The fleeting moments of connection they shared no longer seemed to fill the void. She needed more. She needed something—anything—that would make her feel even the smallest glimmer of life again, something to shake her out of the fog that had settled over her. She wasn’t sure if it was him she was looking for or if it was just a desperate search for something real in a world that had lost its meaning.

“Get out your pretty knife and put it to good use, Salesman,” she purred, her voice low and dangerous, teasing at the edges of desire.

A flicker of intrigue darkened his gaze. His lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile, the kind that always made her pulse race. “Not that I don’t appreciate this sudden interest in knife play,” he mused, voice velvet-smooth, “but are you sure, darling?”

She tilted her head, unbothered by his faux concern. Shadows danced across her features as candlelight flickered between them. “Do you suddenly not wish to dominate me completely, Gong Yoo?” Her words were a sultry challenge, daring him to prove himself. “Because I, for one, want to be at your mercy tonight.”

His brow lifted at her boldness, though the faintest hint of hesitation lingered. Perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps something more fragile, flickering briefly in the quiet space between their breaths.

“And here I thought I was the reckless one,” he drawled, stepping closer, his silhouette swallowing the light between them. “Why tonight, hmm?”

A beat of silence passed before she spoke again, her tone softer now—stripped of its earlier bravado. “I just need the world to stop spinning for a while.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly, but her gaze held steady.

The raw honesty of her plea hung in the air like smoke, clinging to both of them. For a moment, the predatory gleam in his eyes dulled, replaced by something gentler. He reached out, fingertips grazing the side of her face, tracing the path where warmth bloomed beneath her skin.

“Good,” he said darkly. “Then let’s make the world stop spinning.”

And that was good enough for him. His lips crashed against hers, rough and insistent, as Gong Yoo pushed her firmly against the wall. His right hand closed around her wrists, pinning them effortlessly above her head. The blade lingered on her thigh, cool against the warmth of her skin. His fingers traced its path with deliberate slowness, pressing possessively into the tender flesh. She gasped as his grip tightened, pleasure and pain blurring into something irresistible.

A soft moan escaped her lips, raw and unbidden.

He pressed the blade deeper, just enough to sting, the sharp edge sending a fresh jolt through her body. Her pulse quickened, thrumming wildly beneath the steel as he drew her higher, higher still.

Then, with a swift, practised motion, he tore the blade upward, slicing through the gold fabric that clung to her curves. The dress fell away in shreds, pooling at her feet like liquid gold.

A shiver coursed down her spine as cool air kissed her fevered skin, the contrast only intensifying the heat that simmered between them.

His gaze flickered over her, dark and consuming.

The blade, cold and unforgiving, traced the curve of her waist as his grip on her tightened, pulling her closer. A shiver ran through her, the contrast of the sharp metal and his rough touch sending sparks through her body. Her breath quickened, every nerve alight with anticipation.

The chaos inside her seemed to quiet, the only sound between them the rhythmic thumping of her heart, drowning out everything else. Only the heat between them remained, feverish and consuming. Her body responded instinctively, seeking him with a desperation she no longer cared to hide. Every touch, every rough press of flesh against flesh, drove her deeper into reckless oblivion where nothing else mattered.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice rough against her ear. “I thought you liked to fight.”

A breathless laugh escaped her, shaky and raw. “Maybe I’m tired of fighting.”

His lips brushed the curve of her neck, featherlight but devastating in their effect. “Good,” he whispered darkly. “Then stop resisting.”

The blade withdrew, leaving a ghost of cold in its wake. His free hand slid down her arm, guiding her wrist to rest against his chest, palm pressed flat over the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“Feel that?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

She nodded, unable to find words.

“That’s all that matters now,” he said. “Me. You. Nothing else.”

His fingers curled tighter around her wrist, pulling her closer still. The blade hovered over her skin for a moment, a pause that felt like an eternity. Then, with a swift, practised motion, he pressed it deeper against her exposed breast, the sharp sting a welcome interruption to the numbness that had consumed her for so long.

A breathless gasp escaped her lips, her body instinctively arching toward him. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside ceased to exist. Everything that had once felt heavy, suffocating, was suddenly distant, replaced by a sharp clarity that only he could bring. Sweat slicked their skin as they moved together, the intensity building like a storm on the verge of breaking. Her nails dug into his back, marking him as surely as he had marked her, and the low growl that rumbled from his chest only fueled her further.

But there was no hesitation now, no trace of doubt. His grip on her tightened as he claimed her completely, stripping away every last fragment of the world outside until only they remained—raw, unguarded, and utterly consumed by each other.

The moment the high ebbed away, the weight of reality crept back in, slow and suffocating. The hotel room was cold, heavy with silence, the chaotic heat they had conjured was now reduced to fading embers.

She reached for the ashtray on the nightstand, retrieving a crumpled pack of Marlboro Lights. The familiar flick and hiss of the lighter cut through the stillness as she lit up, the first drag settling low in her lungs. Without a word, she tilted the pack toward him in offering.

He accepted with a lazy grin, taking his time before lighting his own cigarette. Smoke curled between them like a veil, thin and intangible.

“So,” he drawled, amusement flickering in his voice, “are we supposed to indulge in some aftercare now, doll?”

A laugh burst from her, sharp and unfiltered. “Please,” she scoffed. “As if you even know how to provide it.” She took another drag, exhaling slowly. “This right here? Chain-smoking in a hotel bed? That’s the only kind of aftercare we’ll ever have.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Sharp tongue for someone who couldn’t even speak five minutes ago.” His eyes gleamed wickedly. “Was it the Frontman again? Did he break your pretty little heart?”

Her jaw tightened at the mention, but she masked the sting with a bored exhale, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “What’s it to you?” she shot back coolly. “You got to play psycho killer with me tonight, didn’t you?”

Gong Yoo tilted his head, mock sincerity softening his features. “True,” he admitted with a grin. “And I must say—you scream beautifully. Though I have to admit, I’m curious.”

The weight of his gaze lingered, too observant for her liking. She let the question dangle unanswered, shifting instead to inspect the thin red lines tracing her skin, still raw and angry. Some cuts shimmered faintly with beads of blood where the blade had pressed just a little too deep. She wrinkled her nose, dragging her thumb across one without thinking.

“Your handiwork is a bit much,” she muttered, exhaling smoke through pursed lips. “These bruises are going to be visible from a mile away.”

His smirk widened. “Good. Think of them as souvenirs.”

She rolled her eyes, the ghost of a reluctant smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he teased, “here you are.”

She flicked ash into the tray, leaning back against the headboard as cool air kissed her overheated skin. The sheets clung to her thighs, damp from sweat and tangled like remnants of the chaos they'd just unleashed. Her pulse was finally slowing, but the ache beneath her ribs persisted—a dull, stubborn weight.

Drawing in another drag, she broke the silence. “And just for the record,” she said flatly, “the Frontman has nothing to do with this.”

The Salesman arched a brow, scepticism radiating from him even as he reclined casually beside her. “Mm, sure. Totally unrelated,” he drawled, dragging the words out just enough to make them sting.

“I just needed a break,” she added, the lie sliding from her lips with practised ease. But even as the words escaped, doubt lingered in their wake. Was she lying only to him, or to herself as well? The truth was tangled somewhere between desperation and denial, buried too deep for her to untangle right now.

The smoke curled lazily between them, thickening the already-charged air. He didn’t press, though the glint in his eyes told her he wasn’t fooled. He rarely was. Instead, he stretched his arm along the back of the headboard, the casual sprawl of a man who had seen all her defences crumble and wasn’t fazed in the slightest.

“You're good at that,” he remarked lazily.

“At what?”

“Pretending you’re fine when you’re clearly not.”

Her body stiffened , but she forced herself to stay composed, to meet his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I am fine,” she shot back.

“Maybe,” he conceded with a smirk, though it was clear he didn’t believe a word of it.

Silence settled again, heavy but not uncomfortable. The cigarette burned low between her fingers, and she crushed it into the ashtray with deliberate force, as if extinguishing more than just embers.

For now, she’d let the lie stand. It was easier that way. Even if the ache beneath her ribs told her otherwise.“You did a marvellous job with my dress,” she drawled sarcastically, gesturing toward the shredded gold fabric scattered across the floor like discarded petals. “How the hell am I supposed to leave your room now? Naked?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, amused. “You say that like it’s a problem.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling the sheet loosely around her body like a makeshift toga. “Right. Because a naked woman casually strolling through a five-star hotel hallway in the middle of the night definitely won’t turn heads.”

He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, eyes glinting mischievously. “If you want, I could make you a dress out of pillowcases.”

“Wow, fashion genius,” she deadpanned, lifting an eyebrow. “Next stop: Paris Fashion Week?”

He shrugged, flicking ash from his cigarette with practised ease. “I’m just saying, doll—you pull off dishevelled pretty damn well.”

“Shut up and give me one of your shirts, darling,” she quipped, mimicking his syrupy tone as she deliberately mocked the pet name.

He chuckled, the sound deep and lazy. “Ah, so the sharp tongue’s back already. Impressive recovery.”

She arched her brow. “Are you going to keep talking, or do I need to dig through your suitcase myself?”

He flicked the cigarette into the ashtray, the cherry-red ember dying with a faint hiss. Rising from the bed, he moved with deliberate slowness, clearly enjoying her impatience. Her eyes tracked him as he sauntered to the chair where his clothes were draped haphazardly.

With a flourish far too theatrical, he plucked a black button-up shirt from the pile and threw it at her. “Finally, some chivalry,” she muttered, slipping it over her bare shoulders. The fabric hung loosely on her frame, the hem skimming just below her thighs. His scent clung to it—spice and smoke, heady and inescapable. She rolled up the sleeves with ease, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered.

“You wear it better than I do,” he remarked, leaning casually against the dresser.

“Obviously,” she shot back, buttoning only two buttons before turning to face him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a walk of shame to make.”

He grinned, unrepentant. “If anyone asks, just tell them I sent you.”

“Right,” she said dryly, heading for the door. Slipping her heels back on, she straightened the oversized shirt and made her way to her room. Thankfully, it was on the same floor, sparing her the added humiliation of waiting for an elevator in her current state. The hallway stretched silent and empty, her footsteps muffled by the plush carpet.

The next morning, she woke up at exactly 6:00 AM, her body aching in places she hadn’t even known could hurt. The Frontman had summoned an emergency board meeting before breakfast, and the weight of the past weekend pressed down on her like an iron shroud. She was beyond done with the never-ending cycle of obligations. The gala, the endless small talk, the shared meals with high-profile VIPs—every moment had drained her, leaving behind only exhaustion. And now, with the board meeting looming, she had no choice but to pull herself out of bed, whether her body cooperated or not.

With a sigh, she dragged herself into the bathroom, stepping into the shower. The scalding water cascaded over her skin, soothing her sore muscles but doing little to wash away the memories of the night before. As she towelled off, she turned to the mirror, eyeing the aftermath of her latest game with the Salesman. The damage was extensive. Deep purple bruises kissed her collarbones, staining her skin like paint on a canvas. Thin, faded lines—remnants of his blade—ran along her ribs, whispering stories of sharp edges and unspoken challenges. She looked like a masterpiece of perfectly contained chaos.

Was this it? Had she finally lost her mind?

The thought should have been unsettling. It should have made her stomach churn, should have filled her with shame. But it didn’t. Instead, a slow, dark satisfaction curled in her chest, a quiet thrill at the memories flickering through her mind. Why did it feel so good to reminisce?

She pushed the thought away before it could take root. There was no time for distractions.

Moving with practised ease, she selected an outfit that was both elegant and authoritative—an emerald green silk blouse that draped over her frame, tucked into a fitted black pencil skirt with a tasteful slit at the back. She slipped on her favourite red-bottom heels, the click of the soles against the floor grounding her as she moved. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face as she applied her makeup, carefully concealing the stubborn marks on her neck and chest. She cursed under her breath, blaming Gong Yoo and his insufferable obsession with marking her skin.

By the time she stepped out of her suite, the lavish hotel hallways stretched before her, pristine and eerily quiet at this early hour. She walked with purpose, ignoring the faint hum of tiredness still clinging to her limbs. The top floor housed the conference room, a space reserved for only the highest-ranking members of the organization. As she pushed open the heavy double doors, the tension in the room was palpable.

The men were already seated.

At the head of the long, rectangular table sat Il-Nam, the creator of the games, his presence commanding even in old age. To his right, In-Ho—the Frontman—looked as impeccably composed as ever, dressed in a crisp black suit, his cold gaze unwavering as it flicked toward her. To Il-Nam’s left was the Officer, his expression unreadable.

The guards were seated as well, each representing a different division of their operation. A Circle, symbolizing the workers. A Triangle, signifying the soldiers. A Square, representing the managers. Their faces, though unmasked, remained impassive, their postures rigid.

And then there was Gong Yoo.

He lounged near the Officer, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey already in his hand despite the early hour. His dark eyes found hers the moment she stepped inside, and a slow, knowing smirk curled onto his lips.

“You’re late,” In-Ho remarked, his tone devoid of warmth.

She barely spared him a glance as she walked to her seat. “Apologies, Frontman. Water pressure issues.” The words dripped with sarcasm.

Gong Yoo chuckled under his breath, the sound rich with amusement. He leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only her to hear. “Maybe you should have showered in my room, then, darling.”

Her jaw clenched, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she settled into the chair beside him, exuding nonchalance as she crossed her legs.

“Let’s begin,” Il-Nam’s voice cut through the room, calm but commanding.

The air shifted instantly. The weight of his authority settled over them, and even Gong Yoo—smug as he was—stilled, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his whiskey glass as the meeting commenced. One of the other guards started giving out files concerning the matter at hand. “As you’ve likely heard by now, last night’s attack at the gala was orchestrated by a relative of one of our past contestants.” Il-Nam’s voice was calm, yet there was an unmistakable edge to it—a demand for answers masked by a veneer of patience. His gaze shifted to the Officer, sharp and unwavering. “What I need to understand first Officer, is how they managed to get into the ballroom in the first place.”

Silence stretched for a beat too long.

The Officer sat rigid, his hands folded neatly on the table as he met Il-Nam’s stare without flinching. “The main intruder was disguised as catering staff and let in his accomplices were dressed as guests,” he answered, his voice measured. “They entered using forged credentials, ones that—at first glance—passed our standard security checks. It was only after the attack began that we realized the ID had been altered. The forgery was sophisticated, which suggests external assistance.”

Il-Nam’s fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood of the table. “I see,” he said, though his tone made it clear that this explanation was far from sufficient.

The Officer continued, sensing the scrutiny. “The guards neutralized the threat within minutes, but unfortunately, not before they managed to get a weapon inside. That failure is on my team, and for that, I take full responsibility.” He exhaled slowly. “I have already ordered a full security review. Background checks on all third-party vendors are being re-evaluated, and any lapses in protocol will be corrected immediately.”

“Your security got it under control?” In-Ho’s voice was like a blade slicing through the tense silence. His sharp gaze bore into the Officer, demanding accountability. “If it weren’t for the Salesman and the Dancer over there, we’d be mourning at least five dead VIPs right now.” His tone was razor-edged, each syllable a quiet condemnation as his eyes moved from her to Gong Yoo before finally settling back on the Officer.

Gong Yoo let out a low chuckle, leisurely swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Oh, boss, you’re making me blush.” His smirk was infuriatingly smug as if the entire fiasco had been nothing more than a particularly entertaining performance.

She leaned back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other as she added with a smirk, “Flattery will get you everywhere, Frontman.”

In-Ho’s expression remained as cold and unyielding as ever. “Children. Enough.” His voice was sharp, silencing any further banter.

The Officer, however, remained composed despite the scrutiny. “With all due respect, Frontman, our response time was under three minutes. The VIPs were secured before any casualties. The intruders were neutralized before they could do any real damage.”

In-Ho scoffed. “Before they could do real damage?” His voice was laced with incredulity. “One of them walked right through the front doors disguised as catering staff. They had time to slip two more inside in ballgowns, carrying concealed firearms. And somehow, not one of your men caught on?”

The Officer’s jaw tightened slightly. “His accomplices arrived later, posing as guests. The gowns made the firearms difficult to detect until it was too late.”

Il-Nam, who had remained quiet up until now, let out a soft, amused chuckle, fingers tapping lazily against the polished wood of the table. “So,” he mused, “we not only had one security breach, but three. Right under our noses.” His tone was calm, almost pleasant, but everyone at the table knew better than to mistake that for mercy.

The Officer exhaled slowly, keeping his composure. “The guards acted as soon as the first shot was fired. The ballroom was locked down, and the intruders were eliminated before they could reach their intended targets. Our casualties were minimal—two guards wounded, but no one important was harmed.”

“No one important,” In-Ho echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. “How reassuring.”

Il-Nam’s fingers stilled, the faint smile on his lips never quite reaching his eyes. “Tell me, Officer… if the Dancer and the Salesman hadn’t intervened as quickly as they did, how many would have died?”

A pause.

The Officer hesitated only for a fraction of a second, but in this room, that was enough.

“…At least five,” he admitted finally. “Possibly more.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Il-Nam leaned back in his chair, exhaling softly. “Then I suggest we start taking security matters more seriously,” he said, his voice deceptively light. “You will personally oversee the next security drill. I want weak points identified and eliminated. If another incident occurs, I will not be as forgiving.”

The Officer gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

Il-Nam’s gaze then flickered toward her and Gong Yoo, a faint glimmer of amusement in his expression. “And as for our unexpected heroes of the night…” He tapped his fingers against the table. “It seems we owe you our gratitude.”

Gong Yoo grinned, his dark eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, if gratitude comes with a raise, I might actually feel appreciated around here.”

She let out a soft chuckle, tilting her head slightly. “Oh, please. We both know I didn’t do it out of kindness. Just would’ve been a shame to let all that fine champagne go to waste.”

Il-Nam chuckled, though there was something calculating beneath the sound. “Indeed,” he murmured. “Let’s move on.”

The conversation shifted, but the tension in the air remained thick, unspoken. The attack had rattled the foundation of their carefully controlled world, and everyone in the room knew the truth—this wasn’t over.

They had moved on to the second point of discussion—planning next year’s games—but the Dancer wasn’t listening. Her attention was fixed on the file in front of her, fingers skimming over the pages as she absentmindedly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

The room fell into an abrupt silence.

Just below her jawline, close to the delicate pulse point of her throat, lay a love bite—dark, unmistakable, and fresh.

Gong Yoo was the first to react. His grin stretched wider, a slow, lazy smirk curling at the edges as he bit back a laugh, the amusement dancing in his dark eyes. He didn’t bother hiding his satisfaction.

Across the table, In-Ho’s grip on his pen tightened slightly. His expression remained unreadable, but the sharpness in his gaze betrayed him. It flickered to the mark on her skin, then to Gong Yoo, before settling back on her. The air around him felt colder, his posture unnaturally stiff. His breathing slowed, controlled, but there was a heaviness to it—a subtle indication of something carefully reined in. Beneath the table, his fingers flexed once before stilling entirely.

Il-Nam, ever the observer, let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers steepled as he watched the silent exchange with mild amusement.

She frowned at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, glancing up from her file. “What?” she asked, scanning the room. “Do I have something on my face?”

Gong Yoo exhaled a low chuckle, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Oh, doll,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Not on your face.”

Her brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her features—until she caught the way In-Ho’s jaw had tightened ever so slightly. Then, it clicked.

Ah.

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at her lips.

She lifted a delicate hand, tracing her fingers lazily over the mark. Then, just as deliberately, she shifted her gaze to In-Ho. She held it for half a second longer than necessary before tilting her chin slightly, challenging, daring. It was a small act, subtle enough to be brushed off—but the way his fingers curled ever so slightly against the table told her he had noticed.

She leaned back in her chair, feigning nonchalance as she turned the page in her file. “Oh, that?” she mused, tracing her fingers lightly over the bruise. “Must’ve been a mosquito.”

Il-Nam let out a soft chuckle, but In-Ho’s stare remained unreadable.

Gong Yoo, meanwhile, merely grinned. “Damn. That must’ve been one persistent mosquito. What do you say, bossman?” the man drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned back in his chair, lazily swirling the whiskey in his glass before flashing a wolfish grin. “I think she looks rather exquisite.”

Getting a rise out of In-Ho was his favourite pastime. Their mutual disdain was an unspoken but ever-present force in the room, simmering beneath the surface like a slow-burning fuse. And Gong Yoo, ever the provocateur, delighted in striking the match.

In-Ho turned his head slowly, his expression unreadable as he regarded the Salesman. He refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he merely raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow.

“This is the third time this month I’ve caught you with your hand in the cookie jar,” he said coolly, his voice devoid of emotion but laced with quiet authority. His gaze flickered back to the mark on her skin, then to Gong Yoo, sharp and assessing. “Which part of no fraternizing with colleagues is hard for you to understand?”

Gong Yoo chuckled, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “Oh, come on,” he mused, resting his chin in his palm. “You say fraternizing like it’s some grave offence. I prefer to think of it as… team building.”

She smirked at that, lazily tapping her fingers against the table. “Didn’t realize I was company property,” she mused, tilting her head slightly, her voice teasing but laced with challenge.

In-Ho’s eyes flickered toward her, his gaze unreadable, but something in his jaw tightened.

Il-Nam chuckled softly, finally breaking the thick silence. “Ah, young people,” he mused, his voice amused but distant, as if watching an entertaining drama unfold before him. “So much energy, so many… distractions.”

Gong Yoo simply grinned wider, sensing the crack in In-Ho’s composure. He had won this round—whether In-Ho admitted it or not.

“Please,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully as she tapped her pen against the table. “Young? This one is 42,” she gestured lazily toward Gong Yoo, who gave her a mock-offended look, “and the other one is 47,” she finished, pointing toward In-Ho, whose expression remained unreadable.

She leaned back in her chair with an exaggerated sigh. “You’d think by now they’d have learned how to handle their big boy emotions.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her smirk teasing as she let the words hang in the air.

Gong Yoo let out a short laugh, placing a hand over his heart in mock devastation. “You wound me,” he said, shaking his head. “Truly. And here I thought we had something special.”

She shot him an amused glance. “I’d say I was sorry, but we both know I’m not.”

Across the table, In-Ho remained silent, his gaze steady, unreadable. But the barely perceptible twitch of his jaw didn’t escape her notice.

Il-Nam chuckled again, clearly entertained. “Ah, the beauty of age,” he mused. “It teaches patience… but not immunity to certain distractions.” His gaze flickered briefly between In-Ho and Gong Yoo before settling back on his notes, the amusement never quite leaving his face.

Gong Yoo, ever the instigator, leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Well, some of us age like fine wine,” he said smoothly. “Others, well… they just let it turn them bitter.”

The air in the room thickened for a brief second, the tension a quiet undercurrent beneath the humour.

She smirked, twirling her pen between her fingers. “Or maybe it’s just that some people never learned how to share their toys.”

For the first time, In-Ho finally moved—just the slightest shift of his posture, but enough to betray that her words had landed.

149 notes · View notes

bangtanintotheroom · 1 year ago

Text

Fill the Void (M)

I don't wanna decide things for myself, on my own

Finally, for the first time, I'm alone

You call me, havin' good times with a bad boy

Seems I've got a choice to make

Be my voice and I choose you to fill the void

• Pairing: Professional Dom!Hyunjin x Client!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Sex Worker!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.1k

• Summary: He’s always there to help you forget your troubles, even if it’s just for a few hours.

• Warnings/themes: explicit sexual content, sex work, swearing, drinking, discussion of safe words and consent, dom!Hyunjin, sub!Y/N, sensory deprivation (blindfold), usage of sl*t, degradation, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, praise, use of sex toys, fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, light choking, protected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, aftercare

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Fill the Void - The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: Wow, look who finished this, eons later! I am so sorry for everyone who’s been looking forward to this, between the holiday and con rush and focus issues, it was hard getting this complete 🥲 but it’s here now and I hope it was somewhat worth the wait! Shoutout to my lovely Sunclair @minisugakoobies for beta reading! 💖

• Taglist: @minttangerines @aznstoner @horanghater @addictedtohobi @swga-ficrecs @firesighgirl @hyunjinsjeans

It didn’t matter how many times you frequented this place; your reaction would always be the same.

Heart picking up in speed as you opened the heavy wooden door between a nail salon and a cat cafe.

Eyes darting around at the picture frames of scantily clad people hanging on the burgundy walls.

Lips curling as you approached the androgynous young man sitting behind the singular desk in the lobby.

He was quick to notice you, glittered eyes crinkling in recognition.

“Y/N, so good to see you again!”

“Same to you, Felix. Is he here tonight?”

What did it say about you that a specific name didn’t have to be announced for him to know who you were talking about?

“Of course, he just got in a few minutes ago. I’ll give him a call.”

Nodding in understanding, you waited as the receptionist picked up the phone and dialed. It didn’t take long for him to start speaking to who was on the other end.

“Hey man, what’s up? I’ve got a surprise for you here.”

A pause while you fiddled with your purse strap.

“One of your regulars is back.”

Felix chose to shoot you a wink from the side, making you grin bashfully.

“Yup, that’s the one. How long will it be?”

More silence before he nodded.

“Sounds good, she’ll be waiting for you. See ya.”

Hanging up the phone, Felix shot you a smile that contrasted with the dark and sensual decor.

“It’ll be a few minutes, he’s just freshening up and he’ll be out for you.”

His words only made your pulse quicken further, but you played it cool on the surface as you replied, “Wonderful. Thank you.”

“Just make yourself comfortable, okay?”

His suggestion was paired with an arm outstretched towards a waiting area to the right, occupied with a few patrons sitting on black velvet couches. With a nod at the blond, you headed into the room, only receiving a glance or two from the other occupants. You took a seat on one of the armchairs in the corner, crossing your legs and leaning back into the cushion as you waited.

To soothe the nerves that always plagued you in this establishment, your eyes took in the people nearby. There were only five of them, taking up little space in the sizable room.

Two of them were huddled together on one of the sofas, most likely a couple judging by the way they held hands and touched knees. Not an ounce of anxiety was on their faces; if anything, they looked eager for whatever was in store for them tonight.

As for the others…

Your eyes shifted subtly to the opposite side.

Three young men who seemed to be good friends, but were currently on different wavelengths. The one in the middle was sandwiched between the other two as they whispered excitedly. He seemed to be less enthusiastic than them, leg bouncing while he kept shaking his head or retorting to the others. A pat on the back helped ease his nerves, body leaning back into the seat as he took deep breaths.

Poor sap was probably a newbie.

You remembered when you were in his position. It felt like so long ago.

Or maybe you had just been here so often that it felt like a long time.

Either way, you were in and knew what you needed tonight.

“Y/N?”

A familiar voice brought you to attention, straightening up in your seat at the tall and lean figure now standing in front of you as your stomach flipped in on itself.

“Hyunjin.”

The man smiled down at you, the red lights illuminating and shadowing the right places on his handsome face.

“Welcome back.”

You returned the expression, cheeks heating up despite your best efforts. He always seemed to have this effect on you.

“It’s good to be back.”

Hyunjin’s magnetic smile only widened, holding a hand out towards you. Without exchanging any more words, you took it, marveling at the warmth and delicacy of it. The opposite of what it could really do behind closed doors.

He helped you up and led you out of the waiting room and back into the hall. You saw the other patrons staring at the two of you out of the corners of your eyes, expressions ranging from encouragement to curiosity. Probably wondering what the enticing worker and the client in her wrinkled pantsuit were going to get up to.

Nothing was said as you and him walked past closed doors, the occasional sounds soaking through them. A moan. A groan or two. Some laughter. Once in a while a scream of pleasure. Or pain.

The first couple of visits, you’d jump and blink owlishly at the rooms, your gaping broken by the gentle tug Hyunjin would give your hand. You were used to these noises by now; it was nothing but background music to you.

Finally, a familiar door ended up in your vision. The dark wood with the red chain wrapped around the handle had your stomach knotting in titillation. Just like always.

Hyunjin opened it and motioned you to enter first, waiting until you stepped halfway in to shut it behind him.

His designated room fit the aesthetic of the establishment, yet it had its own style that catered to its owner. Black made up most of the decor, with the occasional blocks of white and garnished by gold. With the large bed in the middle, decorated with multiple throw pillows, any passerby would assume this was a normal person’s bedroom.

But the oddly-shaped chair looming in the corner hinted at what occurred here other than sleeping and relaxing.

“Need a drink?”

The query made you inhale and let out a heavy breath.

“Please.”

You made yourself comfortable on the end of the king-sized bed, unbuttoning your blazer before tossing it behind you. The urge to lay back and sink into the cozy mattress crept up, but you fought it in favor of watching Hyunjin work his magic at the mini bar.

“I hadn’t heard from you in a while, thought something might’ve happened.”

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No, just a deadline that’s been sucking the soul out of me.”

The worker hummed in understanding, turning around to reveal a glass in his hand, halfway full with white wine. As soon as he was within reach, you took a hold of the drink, wasting no time in taking a sip. The room temperature liquid slid down your throat like it was gold, pulling a sigh out when you pulled the glass away.

“Fuck, I needed that. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

Hyunjin sat next to you, the distance enough to be respectable yet hint to the familiarity the two of you had.

“How have you been?”

One more sip and you turned your head to answer.

“On the verge of jumping out a window.”

The chuckle he gave was minor, though his expression exuded sympathy.

“Has work been that difficult?”

“Difficult doesn’t even come close to it.”

“Oh?”

Just that one little word was enough to have you prepping to express just what had been plaguing you in your career to even bring you here tonight.

“Well, where do I start?”

You moved your free arm back to lean on it, head tilting back to face the ceiling.

“Rumor has it that one of my managers is going to be laid off soon, despite our team being in the middle of a large project.”

You lifted the half-empty glass in the air.

“We have a new intern. Nice kid, but the amount of times he’s forgotten the basic details because he’s too focused on the big picture is irritating.”

The grip on the crystal stem tightened.

“I just found out that the sales coordinator who has been hitting on me is married. But if you ask him, he’ll say he’s in an open relationship.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“I actually liked that asshole.”

Hyunjin gave a scoff before remarking, “Men aren’t shit.”

“Seriously. Oh, and—” The lip of the glass hovered just centimeters away from your lips now. “—I got a parking ticket this morning.”

The tiniest of snorts left Hyunjin while you downed the rest of your drink, letting out a sigh of relief once it finished sliding down your throat.

“You’ve really been going through it, haven’t you?”

“To say the least.”

Your head turned, looking over the other’s appearance with interest. He always had the most interesting outfits on whenever you came, emphasizing his tall and lean figure. This time was no exception.

A short-sleeved sweater vest with a crisp white collar and a black tie wrapped around his neck and simple black slacks. A few bracelets and a watch on his wrists to brighten up the dark look. His hair was tied up this time, showing off an undercut you remembered him mentioning during your last visit. But while you were studying his face, you noticed something that wasn’t there before.

“This is new.”

You pointed to the metal sitting underneath Hyunjin’s right brow, his expression brightening.

“Ah, you noticed. I got it a few weeks ago.”

A hum vibrated through your lips as you admired the piercing.

“It suits you.”

He was quick to express his gratitude, clearly pleased that you brought it up. The two of you conversed on whatever came up for a while, acting like old friends and not a worker and client about to get down to business. But you started growing restless after a certain point, ready to receive what you came here for.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hm?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear while looking into his eyes.

“I think I’m ready now.”

Your words made Hyunjin’s eyes steel, starting to enter into professional mode.

“Are you sure?”

No hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Okay—” He placed a hand on the small of your back, rubbing with comfort. “—how do you want it, Y/N?”

You knew. You knew since you began planning to come here earlier in the week. But it was a little further than what you were used to doing with him.

So you had to swallow the spit gathering in your mouth before responding, “Rough. Rougher than usual.”

The shift in Hyunjin’s dark eyes resembled the one you would see in your coworkers as they prepared to counter suggestions in meetings. His hand also stopped rubbing your lower back.

“How rough?”

His question forced you to take a moment and remember how the system he had set up worked. When you mulled over just how far you wanted him to go, you held up four fingers. He counted each digit and raised a brow at your answer.

“Are you sure? We’ve never gone that far before.”

“Yes, Hyunjin. I really need this, believe me.”

Your tone was verging on desperate, dying to give complete control over to this man and forget about anything irrelevant. It was just the professional in him making sure that his client knew what they were signing up for. You appreciated it, really.

But you needed Hyunjin to start making you forget your own name.

Thankfully, he nodded after a pause or two, his hand continuing to move again.

“Okay, love. That means we’ll have to do a refresher on safe words.”

Ah. Now you really had to dig in your brain this time.

You had never been pushed far enough that you had to use them, but now you were testing your boundaries. Hyunjin was good at his job, but that didn’t mean things couldn’t go wrong.

With intense focus, you attempted to recall the words. It took a while yet they returned in full clarity.

“Soft.”

“To keep going.”

You nodded.

“Hard.”

His mouth quirked.

“To bring up the intensity.”

The next one.

“Pause.”

“To stop completely.”

“And…”

This one took longer, but you managed.

“Swap.”

“To switch it up.”

You hummed in approval, his answers matching up correctly with your words.

“I’m surprised you remember.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders lifted in nonchalance.

“It’s my job, darling.”

A chuckle came from you; he did have a point.

“Fair. So—” You set your empty glass on the floor before standing up, cocking your head as you looked down at him. “—should I undress myself or would you like to do the honors?”

Hyunjin gave you the sauciest of smirks, letting you know that play time was over.

“It’s all up to you, love.”

Yes.

This was just what you needed.

To think about nothing except the toy sliding in and out of you and the one controlling it.

It took little effort on Hyunjin’s part to clear your mind of the troubles plaguing you outside of this building. As soon as you were stripped down to nothing but your skin, he was quick to switch to his other persona, instructing you to get comfortable on the piece of furniture in the corner before strapping you in with ease. The way his lips quirked when he looked over your bound form never failed to raise goosebumps. It was the last glimpse you got of him before satin covered your eyes and left you to view nothing but darkness.

And true to his promise, he began pushing you to your limits.

“A-Ah—”

You could hear him huff below you, taunting, “You’re making a mess on my furniture, darling.”

You were pretty sure he wasn’t exaggerating; every time the vibrator sunk in or pulled back, you could feel your wetness dripping out and collecting into a puddle underneath your ass. This was how you got whenever Hyunjin teased you. The ability he had to build you up and make you walk to the mountaintop, only to force you to turn around and head back down was astonishing.

And addicting.

“Mnh—”

It was pointless to tug at the bands around your wrists. You didn’t even budge an inch.

“So needy for a piece of plastic. It’s adorable.”

You tried to stop what came out of your mouth next automatically, but failed, retorting, “That piece of plastic is making me feel good— Ah!”

A sharp impact on your thigh brought a cry out of you, swiftly followed by his stern voice.

“Manners, Y/N.”

Oops. One of the rules established was to not talk back and you almost ruined the mood.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Hyunjin clicked his tongue at your meek apology, clearly not too pleased with the interruption.

“I thought I was doing my job, but I guess not since your mouth just ran off.”

You couldn’t avoid the way your walls squeezed when you heard him say in a velvety tone, “Guess we’ll have to fix that, hm?”

Within a second, you could feel the toy pulling out, a whine escaping your lips as you felt so empty all of a sudden.

“Sir—”

He didn’t allow you to utter another syllable as you felt something wet and hot gliding against your swollen folds out of nowhere. The sensation made you jerk in your restraints and yelp sharply, legs bound tight to prevent you from closing them. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad thing at the moment.

Hyunjin’s tongue took its sweet time traveling, the tip dipping into crevices and swirling around your hard clit with precision. In any other situation, the attention would be welcome, especially from someone as skilled as him. But this was not helping with the golden rule of the night.

Don’t come unless he says so.

“Hyu— Sir, please!”

You trembled at the hum washing over your center. “Hm?”

“Sir…more.” A pause. “Please?”

Almost forgot your manners.

“I don’t know, love, can you handle more?”

Could you? Probably not, but tonight was about pushing your boundaries…

“Yes.”

Nothing but your labored breathing was heard for some time. Which was why you flinched at the feel of something much smaller and warmer than the vibrator poking at your entrance.

“Is this good enough for you, greedy thing?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

Your pitch increased when you felt his finger slide into you with little resistance, burying up to the knuckle. Hips raising at the sensation, they began following the rhythm of Hyunjin’s thrusting, enjoying the bundle of pleasure that began building up again.

“Fuck, you’re so needy.”

A pinch of your hip interrupted your movements, teeth catching onto your bottom lip.

“Fucking yourself onto my finger like a slut. Never imagined that this would be what I dealt with tonight.”

There was no hiding the shiver that wracked your body at his words. And if there was a chance, it was wiped off the map when Hyunjin tapped onto your G-spot, ripping a shriek out of you.

“Shit!”

The chuckle you heard was dripping with nearly sadistic amusement at your predicament.

“There you go, making a mess again.”

Your face burned with unbearable heat as he pointed out the obvious, feeling your arousal dribbling out every time he stroked the soft area or thrusted into it. It was difficult to get like this with any of your previous partners, but the man between your legs had you in such a state without even breaking a sweat.

To make matters worse, Hyunjin went back to stimulating your clit with his mouth. You could hear the clinking of the chains as you pulled your wrists forward, barely making any distance. He had made it so you couldn’t move as he ruined you to bits; all you could do was squirm on the chair and express yourself through expletives and moans.

It didn’t take long for your body to sink into the rhythm he was creating, fighting less and less against the pleasure. You had even bucked your hips a few times, receiving chuckling and teasing from the other.

But then you realized at a certain point that you were getting too relaxed.

For a string deep in your belly began forming into a knot and pulling tight.

Fuck. Not good.

“Y/N.”

The rigidity surrounding your name made you freeze before Hyunjin continued, “You better not be doing what I think you’re about to do.”

“I-I’m not, sir—”

The way your voice shook and you tugged at your bindings betrayed your words. Denying the sensation only seemed to exacerbate it, the mass growing further and further the more his fingers slid in and out of your pussy.

“Doesn’t feel like it. Remember what I said?”

“Y-Yes.”

A sharp pinch to your inner thigh made you whimper.

“Say it.”

“Don’t c-come unless you say so. I promise I won’t, sir.”

A rub on that same spot was followed by, “Good.”

But he didn’t ease up. Instead, he continued his motions and challenged your resistance to breaking one of his rules. You were trying to give the facade that you were under control, but your body kept twisting and whimpers poured from your agape mouth.

It was so tempting to just give up and say your safe word, but fuck that.

You were on a mission tonight and you weren’t raised to be a quitter.

The sting of nails digging into your palms felt minor compared to the ache between your legs.

Fight it. Fight it. Fight it.

The sensation remained stagnant before finally beginning to fade into slight discomfort. Although your body protested, your mind was satiated by the praise you heard next.

“Good girl. I love when you listen to me.”

You hummed in appreciation at Hyunjin’s words and the hand gently rubbing your hip now.

“Th-Thank you, sir.”

The welcoming warmth of his palm lulled you into somewhat of a relaxed state that made you aware of the current position you were in. The hardness of the chair was starting to make your bottom sore and your hands and feet were starting to get a bit tingly now. Your lips turned downwards as you tried but failed to regain your discomfort.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Easy.”

His touch paused, the heat stagnant on your skin.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

You heard Hyunjin hum before responding, “Should we move this to the bed, darling?”

Just the thought of laying on the soft duvet had your tone brightening as you gave your approval. The hand left your hip before landing above your head to work on loosening you from the furniture.

Feeling the leather unwrap from your wrists and ankles was a mild relief, flexing your toes and fingers for a moment before you felt your hips being grabbed and pulled downwards. Your legs came together quick enough to help you stand, although they had little strength once your feet touched the ground. Your sense of balance was affected from the prolonged position and you stumbled forward.

If it wasn’t for the hands that swiftly supported your waist, you would have ended up face first with the carpet.

“Be careful.”

Anyone unfamiliar with Hyunjin would have missed the minor softening of his tone, the immersion breaking for a moment to make sure you were able to continue. You took this opportunity to rest your forehead against what felt like his shoulder and regain your bearings. The sensation of fabric against your skin and the scent of his cologne entering your nostrils contributed to being aware of your surroundings once again.

After taking a few deep breaths, you straightened up, hoping that you were looking somewhere at Hyunjin’s face.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”

A loaded question, really.

You were feeling like a mess in the best way possible, yet the sharp pang between your thighs was torturous. Every throb reminded you of what he had been putting you through for the last…

How long had it even been since you stepped in this room?

“I’m…soft.”

Hyunjin clued in on the word, a hum leaving him in response.

“I see. Do you think we should move this somewhere a little more comfortable?”

The invitation was more than welcoming to you. As much fun as you were having in the chair, nothing could beat the plushness of a bed. Especially his bed.

“I’d like that, sir.”

A rub of your waist made a thrill run down your spine, followed by his hands coming up behind your head.

“Should we take this off or leave it on?”

You didn’t want to risk nearly taking a spill again, so you chose the former, remaining still as Hyunjin undid the knot of your blindfold. As soon as the fabric was lifted off, you made the mistake of quickly opening your eyes, wincing as the dim light attacked them. The man in front of you chuckled in amusement, appearing as a blurry shape to you.

“I turned the lights down for a reason, darling.”

“Thank you…”

It took a minute to adjust, but you were able to finally see the other in full form, taking in his appearance.

Aside from a bead of sweat at his hairline, he looked nonplussed. Like he hadn’t been working you up with his own two hands.

Someone who was impeccable at his job.

“Come on.”

Hyunjin’s expression cooled, a hand sliding down to grip the back of your neck.

“Break time is over.”

The pang between your thighs returned in full force at the tone of his voice and touch, your head bobbing in agreement. He took a hold of your shoulders before turning you around, the king-sized bed in your view as he guided you to walk forward. Just as your legs were about to hit the foot of it, Hyunjin stopped you, leaning down to croon into your ear, “How do you want it?”

It wasn’t easy to answer immediately. The cautious part of you said to get in a position that wouldn’t break you down further, but the adventurous side wanted to go all out. You pondered for as long as you could, not feeling any sort of impatience from the man behind you.

But finally—

“Can I show you?”

Your question was answered with a hum, feeling his hands remove themselves. Once you were free, you stepped forward to climb onto the bed, stopping in the middle on your hands and knees. You lowered the side of your head to rest on the plush comforter, bringing your arms behind you to cross your wrists on the small of your back.

“Like this, sir.”

You heard Hyunjin make a sound of interest before footsteps echoed, stopping once his body was in your sight.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Your gaze connected with his. “And bind me again, please.”

Hyunjin quirked a brow, somewhat intrigued by your request. Studying your expression to find any hesitation, he gave his own approval once it was clear that there was none.

“Alright. Lift your head up for a second.”

You were a bit confused, but obliged, watching his arm go out of view to grab something above your head. It was clear what he went for when he slid the object under your temple before motioning you to lower it, the coolness and comfort of the silk pillowcase providing some relief.

“So you don’t walk out of here with a sore neck.”

A smile couldn’t help but form, looking up at him as you gave your thanks. The tiniest lift of his mouth occurred but disappeared swiftly, leaving your sight as he walked off to grab whatever was needed for this next phase.

You were hopeful that whatever would enter you next wasn’t his fingers or another toy. At this point, you needed something more substantial. And knowing how thorough Hyunjin could be with what he hid in his slacks had your veins thrumming with electricity.

But alas. You blanked out for a moment and forgot that it wasn’t going to be the usual song and dance tonight, per your request.

For after you felt him locking the familiar leather cuffs around your wrists, his fingertips trailed down your body until they stroked against your dripping folds.

“Have you gotten even wetter, darling?”

You swallowed down a whimper when he tapped your throbbing clit, replying, “Maybe…”

A short laugh and a pinch to your bottom was what you got in return.

“Why am I not surprised? I bet you’re hoping that I’ll fuck you now, hm?”

Even if your body remained still as a board, surely he saw the way you reacted between your legs.

“Yes sir.”

A light swat on your ass had your breath hitching.

“Yes sir, what?”

Oh. Here we go.

You had to wet your dry lips before speaking lowly, “Yes sir, I’m hoping you’ll fuck me.”

Hyunjin didn’t seem to be entirely convinced as he delivered another smack, earning a short but sharp sound from you.

“It doesn’t sound like it, Y/N. You seemed more desperate when I had that piece of plastic inside you.”

Now you could feel his fingertip parting your folds before it slowly opened your entrance, sinking in ever so slightly, not even close to stroking that sweet spot.

“Even when my finger was in, you sounded needy. I think you were satisfied with just those, no?”

He probably wanted you to convince him. Really convince him.

Time to reach into your depths and pull out the performance of your life.

“No, sir. They’re not enough.”

You dared to push your hips back, forcing the digit in deeper.

“I need your cock instead. Need it to fuck me dumb.”

A noise of intrigue came from behind you, but you continued before he could say anything.

“I really need this, sir. Want you to stretch my pussy out some more—”

You moved back further, breath hitching when your spot was nearly touched.

“Please fuck me now.”

Nothing but your own heartbeat was heard, hoping that your little show was enough to prove yourself. After a moment, you felt the finger inside you take its sweet time sliding out, hips following in vain. A hard slap was given on your ass, followed by a deep chuckle.

“That was impressive, darling. I’ve never heard you sound so needy before.”

As much as you wanted to bury your heated face into the bed, you remained steady. “I’ll do what I have to to convince you, sir.”

“I see—”

The noise of his belt coming undone made your ears perk up.

“Then I should give the little slut what she’s been asking for, right?”

It was so hard to hide your triumphant grin, but you managed to dim it down into the tiniest of smiles.

“Thank you, sir.”

A pat to your bottom was Hyunjin’s appreciation of your manners. It felt like ages before you felt him get on the bed to kneel behind your bent form. But when something thicker than a finger and warmer than a vibrator rested between your ass cheeks, elation began blossoming in your chest. It was hard to resist when you decided to wiggle, biting back a giggle at the slightest intake of breath from him.

It was a temporary victory as Hyunjin’s hands took a firm hold of your hips, keeping you in place now.

“Cheeky.”

You weren’t surprised at the pinch you received, taking it in stride. This was what you were waiting for all night. Hell, all day. You didn’t have to hope that he would, to put it simply, fuck the ever-loving shit out of you.

The man knew how to do his job thoroughly.

“Ready?”

You nodded, shifting your body a bit to prepare for what was to come.

“Yes, sir.”

With those two words, you could feel Hyunjin grab himself, readjusting to have his tip pressing lower down now. Your toes curled instinctively when you felt the blunt head of his cock parting your folds before he began penetrating. You forgot how to breathe for a moment at the intrusion, nails digging into your palms. But he was giving you what you asked for and that’s all you could want.

Until—

Oh fuck.

You were more sensitive than you realized, feeling the familiar tingle in your fingers and toes start as he sunk further in. You tried to stave off the sensations, but with each inch, you felt your self control withering away and collecting into a ball of tension in your lower stomach. Your walls began trembling before starting to clench around him in preparation for—

“Y/N.”

The sharpness of your name forced you to pay attention, especially when Hyunjin followed with, “Don’t.”

Damn. Your body was a rebel, trying to fight against his command, pussy still throbbing incessantly. You had to get it under control now. Who knew what he’d have in store if you disobeyed?

“I-I’m trying, sir…”

You were forced to shut your eyes as you tried your damnedest to regain control, from counting backwards to picturing a calm ocean. After a few countdowns, you managed to refocus, avoiding the inevitable orgasm. Even though your cunt was screaming at you to give in to the sweet release, you felt a sense of satisfaction at being able to hold back.

Hyunjin seemed to be impressed also, giving a gentle rub to your sore ass cheek before cooing, “Such a good girl.”

You exhaled sharply, only to suck in a breath when you felt him begin to move. The thrusts were slow and long, forcing you to soak in every bit of his dick. He had a way of rolling his hips that not many men had in them, rendering you weak within a couple of minutes. Now was not an exception, soft moans starting to leave your parted lips with increasing frequency.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“Mnh— Yes, sir. Feels good—”

Funny how nonplussed Hyunjin sounded compared to you, already getting lost in the pleasure.

“Good. I better keep hearing you sound like this.”

“Of course— Ah!”

A deeper than expected thrust ripped a cry from your throat. Your fingers curled and dug into your palms as you tried to keep it together. As badly as you wanted to release, you were determined to stick to your challenge tonight.

Even though the man behind you was making it insanely difficult.

He wouldn’t stick with the same, old rhythm. If Hyunjin wasn’t switching his strokes up, he was grunting or husking out words that made heat spread throughout every part of your body.

Good.

You wanted to forget about whatever happened prior to you stepping in this building and he was doing his absolute best to see your wish through.

Time was a foreign concept while you were being fucked. Especially when you were doing your best to not come before you were given the go ahead. But like a splash of cold water, you suddenly felt Hyunjin completely bury himself, skin flush against yours.

A yelp left you at the change, ready to call out his name until you heard something gruff and velvety ring out behind you.

“Come.”

Was it the way his word was delivered with pure authority? Was it because he was buried deep inside your cunt, flush with your bottom? Or was it how tight he gripped your hips, fingers digging hard enough to feel the dullness of his nails?

Either way, it hit you like a freight train.

If anyone had been walking close in the hallway, surely they heard the way you screamed out.

Spots filled your vision, every bit of your body shaking at the long-awaited release. The only thing keeping you from completely sinking into the bed were Hyunjin’s hands.

“Yes, that’s it, darling.”

How you managed to hear his praise during your prolonged orgasm was a miracle. Eventually, the sensations faded and you were of sound mind again.

The dom must have noticed as you could feel him beginning to thrust into you again, bringing a feeling of strong overstimulation to you. You bit back a whimper, your pussy trembling in a mix of pleasure and discomfort. You tried to subtly shift away from him, but to no avail.

A pressure on the chain linking your bound hands was quickly followed by a commanding, “Don’t fucking run—“

A sudden jerk of your cuffs forced your body to straighten, your bound hands now trapped between your back and Hyunjin’s torso.

“You wanted to come so badly, I’m giving it to you.”

There was little space for you to protest at all, a hand coming up to wrap around your neck and an arm wrapping around your waist to keep you in place. As soon as a light pressure made your breathing hitch, Hyunjin began pounding into you, harder than ever.

If it wasn’t for his fingers, you would have shrieked.

The sensitivity from before still lingered, bringing a mix of pain and bliss that was unlike what you had experienced with him before. But you never spoke any of your safe words.

You just let the other keep pushing you over the edge repeatedly, to the point where you practically forgot your own name. Your entire body and brain were entering into a fog that could only focus on the cock driving in and out of you and the debauchery being rasped into your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it! Coming endlessly like a needy slut.”

“This pussy of yours just keeps squeezing me over and over—”

“Such a good girl for me, mnh—!”

Just when you were on the verge of asking him to slow down, you felt Hyunjin completely bury himself before remaining still behind you. The gritted swearing and strong twitching of his cock against your hypersensitive walls clued you in to what was happening, a mix of relief tinted with satisfaction washing over you.

As the two of you caught your breath, exhaustion started sinking its claws into you. Your eyelids became heavy, threatening to close when he released your neck and waist to gently lay you on your front. Landing on the duvet only made the sensation worse, leaving you limp as a noodle.

If you had been by yourself in this room, there would’ve been no way to get out. Thank God for Hyunjin being here to look out for you.

You could feel him undoing your cuffs before he carefully rolled you onto your side, guiding you into a fetal position that was much needed.

“How are you feeling?”

Spent. Satisfied. Ready for a nap.

But all you could muster was a weak grunt.

Hearing Hyunjin hum, you felt a warm hand lay between your shoulder blades and begin to rub.

“Would you like something to eat and drink? It’ll help get your energy back.”

At least you could manage a nod, lids fluttering.

The hand was removed as he went to grab whatever he had stored away for moments like this, leaving you to try your best to not fall asleep right there. Luckily, Hyunjin returned swiftly, soft voice sounding again. “Darling, I’m going to sit you up, okay?”

You managed to croak a feeble response, allowing him to guide you to sit up against the pillows. You saw spots for a moment, leaning your head back to try and blink them away.

“Here.”

You looked down to see the lip of a water bottle in front of your face. With Hyunjin’s help, you managed to latch on and drink. Once you got a satisfying amount down, he handed you a small pack of saltines, already opened.

“Is this fine or would you like something else?”

The tiniest of smiles came over as you took the package.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Hyunjin reflected your expression, waiting until you ate one of the crackers before reaching for your free arm. As soon as his lithe fingers began working into your stiff muscles, you sighed in contentment.

“Your arms must be killing you right now.”

“Mm, I’ve had worse being in the gym.”

The dom chuckled at your light quip, glad to see that you were coming back down easily.

“I’ll still give you an Aleve before you head out, your tune might change in the morning.”

Even though your eyes rolled, you were appreciative of his thinking ahead. One of the reasons you always came back.

“Thank you.”

While you were snacking away, Hyunjin continued massaging all of your limbs, chasing away the aches and tingles with little effort. As soon as you finished eating and chugged your last bit of water, he was quick to offer you more, but you declined.

If you filled your stomach any more, you definitely would have curled up in your spot and taken a nap. You didn’t want to go over your time limit and interfere with his next client.

Once you had your bearings about you, you let Hyunjin know that you were ready to leave. He looked you over once more to make sure you were able to head home safely before helping you into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up. You cleaned up as best as you could and redressed, not caring that the wrinkles in your pantsuit worsened by now.

Your companion for the night took your hand and led you out and back down the hallway, your mood a 180 from a couple of hours ago. Stress didn’t run through your veins anymore, replaced with a lightness that could only come from a place like this.

“So how long will it be until I see your face again?”

A shrug greeted Hyunjin’s question.

“Hopefully not as long. I’ve still got some PTO left that I can use, so who knows?”

“Hm, we shall see.”

The two of you reached the entrance to the waiting room, the other stopping to turn and face you head-on.

“So this is goodbye, for now.”

You nodded and replied, “It is. Thank you again, Hyunjin. You don’t know how much I needed this tonight—” your teeth flashed, ��—it’s like an entire weight off my shoulders.”

Hyunjin smiled politely, taking your free hand as well to give both of them a careful squeeze.

“As always, it’s my pleasure. You did great, Y/N.”

The praise brought a flutter to your chest and a warmth to your face. He was never shy with compliments. Although you had to wonder if his clients ever returned the favor on the regular…

Time to take a chance.

“So did you, Hyunjin.”

The way his eyes scrunched and teeth flashed, paired with his cheeks turning pink, let you know that you made the right decision.

“Thank you, darling.”

With a kiss to your hands and a good night, he sent you off on your way. You had a bounce in your step as you headed past the receptionist desk, Felix in the middle of a conversation with a young woman.

“I can guarantee you’ll have a good time with him, he’s one of our best here. Oh, Y/N!”

The call of your name made you pause, acknowledging the blond.

“How was it?”

Your grin expressed everything and more as you answered, “More than I needed and wanted.”

Felix beamed, pleased with your feedback. “Excellent! I actually have this wonderful young lady here asking about Hyunjin—” he jerked his head towards her, “—maybe you can give her your two cents?”

Said woman looked at you now, her lips curving with kindness and modesty.

“Hello. You’re familiar with Hyunjin?”

“Very. He’s my go-to guy whenever I visit. I’ve never had the urge to choose anyone else.”

Her eyes widened, curiosity covering her face now.

“Wow, really? That’s quite the preference.”

Watching the way she reacted reminded you of your first time here; on edge and unsure what exactly you wanted from one of the doms. If it wasn’t for the extensive patience Hyunjin showed you that first night, you never would have stepped foot in here again, let alone multiple times.

She had nothing to worry about.

“Mhm. Honestly, from one woman to another, I say go with him. Trust me—” you gave her as much of a reassuring smile as you could muster, “—you’ll be in good hands.”

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andvys · 11 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eleven ⭐︎ Yeah, I know it seems surprising when there’s lipstick still on the glass

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut, oral (male receiving), mentions of the upside down, jealousy, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your jealousy gets the best of you, and you show Steve a side he hasn't seen before.

Word count: 9.2k

Author's note: I know you're sick of me tagging you but shoutout to you for always helping ♡ @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

“It has to be perfect!” Lucas says from the passenger seat of your car, clapping his hands together as he glances at you with an excited smile on his face.

“It will be, you got all her favorite snacks, that alone will make her happy,” you chuckle as you keep your eyes on the road.

“You think?” Lucas asks, sounding nervous.

“I know it,” you assure him, nodding at him, “besides, why are you so nervous? You’ve been together for how long? Over a year?”

“Well, she broke up with me for a while, remember?” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t count in my opinion, she went through a rough patch and you were always there for her, you were still… kind of together… in your hearts. She was just… hiding her true feelings and needed to be alone, she still loved you, it was a different kind of break up.”

He nods at your words, smiling to himself as he looks down, “yeah,” he whispers before he turns back to you, curiosity flashing in his eyes.

“Have you ever loved someone? I-I mean like, like I love Max?”

Your eyes soften behind your sunglasses.

The love between them is so pure, so young, yet so very real.

You get lost in your thoughts for a moment, his question repeating itself in your mind. You think about yourself at fifteen, at sixteen, at seventeen and eighteen. You are nineteen now, and the answer to his question is still the same, it will always be the same.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He asks but not with judgment in his voice, only with pure curiosity.

You shake your head, glancing at him before you pull up into the parking lot at Family Video, next to Steve’s BMW.

Your chest flutters at the sight of his car – the car that was in your driveway all night.

The thing between you and Steve is still new, still fragile but… constant.

After you gave in and stopped the radio silence that was driving you crazy, you started seeing each other frequently – five days out of the week. You were going behind everyone’s backs, sneaking around while you kept pretending to not like each other in front of your friends. You were still Blondie and Lego Head in front of them, but behind closed doors you were both someone else.

You are not what you wish you could be, but that doesn’t matter when Steve is inches deep inside of you and you feel his lips on your skin and his hands on your body, you get to pretend while you’re in moments of bliss. And when it’s over, you get to pretend that the marks on your skin are there because he wishes you were his, even when it’s nothing but a lie.

Steve can’t keep his hands off you, he can’t stop touching you, he can’t stop kissing you, he can’t stop fucking you – something keeps pulling him back to you, something makes you irresistible to him. You know it’s only that, the sex, the lust, the secrets, nothing more. He doesn’t feel the way you do, not in the slightest, but in some way, he feels something, and that gives you peace… for now.

You keep pushing your feelings aside, not wanting to give in, not wanting them to get in the way.

“Yeah,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat after parking your car, “I’m not good with feelings.”

“Huh,” he nods, furrowing his eyebrows, “that’s funny, reminds me of a certain someone.”

You tilt your head at him as you take your sunglasses off and put them in your cup holder.

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“Well, she’s got red hair, wears pigtails a lot and can be super mean.”

A chuckle falls from your lips.

“You’re basically the older version of Max,” he grins, “you’re both stubborn and act all cold even though you’re the biggest softies at heart.”

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head at him.

“All you need is your basketball star boyfriend,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Family Video.

You scoff at him, waving him off as you hide your flustered face by turning away from him and getting out of the car.

“Steve is single, you know?” He says as he gets out of the car, shutting the door and walking around it to get to you.

“Mhmm.”

And you’re glad that he is.

You place your hand on his shoulder, giving him a pointed look, “why don’t we focus on your date night with Max, King Lucas?” You ask as you start walking towards Family Video, “and we focus less on mine or Lego Head’s dating life.”

He chuckles at both nicknames, he follows you to the store, rushing towards the door, he grabs the handle and opens it before you can, bowing his head with a playful smile on his face as he gestures to you to walk in first.

“Dork,” you chuckle.

You step into the store with a smile on your face and excitement rising up in you, knowing that he is here. Your eyes instantly catch him standing behind the counter with his arms crossed, biceps on full display as he wears a black shirt beneath the green vest, his hair slicked back a little, probably from running his fingers through it all morning. A smirk tugs at his lips, and normally, it would drive you crazy and make your skin prickle, but not now.

Definitely not now.

Because the smirk, the look in his eyes that he always looks at you with, isn’t directed at you, no, it’s directed at her.

The girl you only recently found out about, the girl you hoped was long gone and away from Hawkins.

Jennifer Mitchell stands in front of Steve in all her glory, clad in a short sundress, her boobs are nearly on full display, her dark waves falling down her tanned back as she twirls the front strand around her finger, she glances back at you when the bell above the door goes off, her plump lips are the first thing you look at – god, you can’t even lie to yourself and think that she isn't gorgeous, because she is, you’re not blind.

She’s got a pretty face, curves that make her look like a goddess. She’s perfect.

A few months back, you would have swallowed down the jealousy inside of you, and you’d walk away, because there would be no point in dwelling on those thoughts in your head.

But now you have him.

And so far, you haven’t seen him flirting with other girls in front of you, you haven’t felt the need to worry about him hooking up with anyone else, even when it was there in the back of your mind, you ignored it and pretended that you were the only one.

But you aren’t, you aren’t the only one, you aren’t the special one, you aren’t enough for him.

The bitterness on your tongue is strong, just like the burning in your chest, the red and ugly flames that become brighter and brighter the longer you look between them.

The way he stands before her, so confident and cocky, the way he talks to her, the way he is so close, the way his lips are curled into a smirk.

You could throw up.

His eyes meet yours, and you instantly look away with an eye roll and a sigh, making your way into the horror movie section without bothering to greet him.

What you failed to notice was how bored he looked until he saw you, and how his eyes lit up when he took in the sight of you, the way his plastered smirk turned into a soft smile.

“Hey Steve,” Lucas greets him, waving his hand at him as he follows you.

“Hey guys,” Steve greets you both, even though you have already walked past him and turned your back to him. His shoulders slump a little, but you’re long gone to see.

Robin is stacking up tapes, humming along to the song that plays on the radio, standing with her back turned to you, she doesn’t notice you or Lucas, until the latter taps her on the shoulder, startling her a bit.

She turns around, some horror movie tape in her hand, her features relax when she sees the two of you.

“Oh, hey guys! What’s up?” She grins.

“Lucas is looking for a movie, for his date night with Max,” you say, smiling at the boy beside you.

“Aw!” Robin pouts, tilting her head as she looks at him with an adoring smile on her lips, “you two are just the cutest.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the smile that appears on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you both off, taking a step back, “I will just… look around for the perfect movie or go bother Steve while you girls chit chat,” he mumbles before he leaves the aisle again.

Robin frowns at him, “why don’t you chit chat with us? We wanna know more about your date!”

“She can tell you all about it!” Lucas points at you, blushing already.

She chuckles at the flustered look on his face, watching as he inches away from the two of you, her eyes fall on Steve, who is still talking to Jennifer, who is now leaning over the counter, a pen in her hand and a note in front of her, she’s writing down her number, no doubt. She straightens back up, giving Steve a flirty smile – yeah, she definitely wrote down her number. She hands him the note before she turns around and makes her way out, looking over her shoulder one more time to wave at him.

You clear your throat, looking around at the tapes in front of you, “so… they’re having a movie night. We went to Big Buy’s first, he got a bunch of her favorite snacks, and then we stopped at the record store, he bought her a new album – oh, but he’s also been talking about making her a mixtape, which I think is super cute!” You ramble, not noticing that Robin’s eyes are elsewhere.

She raises her eyebrows, craning her neck a little.

Steve turns around with the note in his hand, he doesn’t even open it, he doesn’t even look twice at it, he just throws it in the trash and turns back around, running his fingers through his hair, for the millionth time today. He reaches for his magazine and continues flipping through it like nothing happened.

Robin’s jaw nearly drops at his action.

When has he ever done anything like this?

“And I thought maybe she will like a horror movie, so that Lucas can wrap his arm around her…” Your voice falters a little when you notice that she isn’t even listening. “Robs?” You mumble, waving your hand in front of her hypnotized face. You turn around and follow her gaze. Your eyes land on Steve, who is now alone again – a sight that fills you with… relief.

You turn back around, raising your eyebrows at her.

Robin seems to snap out of her stupor, shaking her head a little before her blue eyes meet yours again.

“Sorry, spaced out.”

“Because of Dingus?” You chuckle, tilting your head, “you’re not turning straight are you?” You joke, earning a slap to your shoulder from the blonde.

She gags at your words, before she starts laughing.

“Okay! So… we are looking for a horror movie for the love birds?” She asks.

You nod.

“Alright,” she smiles, nodding her head as she turns towards the tapes, looking through them with squinted eyes.

And while she is distracted, you can’t help but turn back to Steve to look at him properly, even when you can only see his back, your eyes are filled with longing, and still with jealousy.

Did she leave her number before she left?

Is he gonna take her out on a date now?

Is he gonna see her instead of you now?

Is he gonna replace you with her? – That thought leaves you with nothing but sadness, not the burning red anger that you feel when you think about him hooking up with her. As long as he comes back to you, everything will be okay, you will be okay. But, if he leaves for good, and he replaces you with someone else, the anger won’t be the feeling in control.

With a sigh, you turn away from him and look back at Robin, who reaches for some Zombie apocalypse movie that you have never even heard of before.

Lucas doesn’t seem to mind that she’s the one picking the movies out for him, once he’s got everything he needs, you both make your way over the counter, and you once again have to hide your feelings behind a confident smile as you’re forced to face him again.

“Having a movie night?” Steve asks as he grabs the tapes, taking a look at them.

His voice alone makes your stomach flutter.

“Yeah, my parents are having a date night, they won’t be home until past midnight, so… I’m having a date night with Max,” Lucas grins and places his hands on the counter.

“So you purposely picked the horror movies so you can wrap your arm around her, huh?” Steve smirks at him, before his eyes move to yours and he winks at you when Lucas looks down.

One look from him, one smile, one tiny little action and all your worries are out the window for a second. All you see is him, all you feel in your chest is the pounding of your heart that he causes every single time, he leaves goosebumps on your skin, he leaves you aching and wanting for more.

Every time you’re with him, every time he smiles at you, nothing around you no longer exists, none of your bad thoughts, none of the girls he had been with, not even the one that just stood here in your place, the one that caused you a sliver of panic.

You’re truly and utterly ruined.

Steve turns you into a lovesick puppy, you wear the pink sunglasses when you’re with him, no longer able to think straight – you are blind and unaware of absolutely everything. And it should scare you, it really should, but you don’t care, not right now, you might not ever.

Steve could do anything to you, and you’d still look at him the same.

“That was her and Robin’s idea,” Lucas murmurs, nudging your shoulder.

“Oh?” Steve raises his eyebrows, smirking at you, “well, Robin must be the expert.”

“Not me?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head as he looks down, ringing up the tapes, “you’re the type of girl that wants to be protected during horror movies.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “right.”

Lucas looks between the two of you, eyes flashing with mischief, “well, Steve, you seem like the guy to protect the girl during horror movies,” he wiggles his brows, “so, I’d say you’re the perfect match for each other.”

You expect Steve to say something slightly mean, to keep the cover up, but instead, he looks back at Lucas before his hazel eyes lock with you, and an even bigger smirk tugs at his lips, as his eyes move up and down your body teasingly.

“Yeah? I guess Blondie and I should have a little movie night then huh?”

Lucas snorts, not taking Steve’s words seriously, knowing that this would be way too easy.

But you know what Steve means by that.

“Mhmm, sure,” you nod, tilting your head at the handsome brunette.

Lucas looks between the two of you, rolling his eyes, “you guys can stop playing, I know you won’t actually do that,” he mumbles, taking your words as a joke.

He pulls out his wallet, and pays for the movies, taking the receipt as well after Steve places it on the counter.

“Maybe I’ll convince you two to spend some time alone someday though,” he grins at the both of you, not noticing the way Steve looks at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, stepping away from the counter, “come on, buddy.”

You raise your eyebrows at Steve as you bring your hand up to your neck, where he had left a new hickey.

His eyes flash with lust and he bites his lip as he nods at you.

Excitement rushes through your body, despite what you had walked into just minutes ago, you can’t wait to see him tonight.

You flash him a smile before you leave.

Completely unaware of the storm it causes inside of him.

His eyes stay on you, even when you’re out of the store and inching closer and closer to your car. He tilts his head a little, so he can see more of you through the glass door, he watches the way your skirt bounces a little, he feels like a perv when he wonders about your panties, what color they are, if they’re lacy or not, but he can’t help it, especially when he thinks about your previous night together – how you looked beneath him, how pretty your face looked when it contorted into pleasure, how his name fell from your lips so beautifully, how your hands felt on his skin, how you clung to him as he thrusted in and out of your tight pussy.

Steve licks his lips, gripping the edges of the counter, watching as you get into your car.

His mouth waters as he thinks about devouring you, tasting you on his tongue and making you scream out in pleasure, again and again, until you’re nothing but a whimpering, shaking mess beneath his hands.

He looks at the watch around his wrist, nearly groaning in annoyance, three more hours to go.

“Hey,” Robin walks up to him, “what are you doing tonight?” She asks as she leans against the counter next to him.

He takes a look at her, finding her staring at him in pure curiosity, eyebrows pulled together as her eyes stare at him expectedly.

Fuck.

“Uh…” He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck, he tilts his head down, eyes falling on the trash can and the note he threw away. “I’m meeting… Jennifer.” He smiles, hoping that she will believe him, hoping that she will remember the time he talked about the girl a few months back.

“Oh?” Robin nudges her chin up a little, crossing her arms over her chest.

Steve nods, smiling as heat rushes up to his cheeks.

“A-And you?” He asks, hoping that she won’t ask any questions.

“Oh, nothing, maybe I’m just gonna go bother Eddie,” she shrugs, still staring at him and at the way his cheeks burn red.

Steve avoids her eyes, and that is something he only does when he is hiding something – usually it’s nothing serious, nothing big. But this is different.

He is hiding something else from her.

She knows it, she is sure of it.

He stopped looking at Nancy, he stopped talking about Heidi and Linda, he threw away a note of one of the hottest girls of Hawkins.

“Sounds great,” he mumbles, bringing his hand up to her hair, he ruffles it, chuckling at the annoyed groan that falls from her lips.

“I’ll be right back, Robs.”

He walks away from her and disappears into the hallway.

And she waits, she waits until she hears the door to the break room closing. She listens closely, biting her lip as she already looks down into the trash can, eying the note as her fingers itch for it.

The moment the door shuts, she quickly bends down, digging her hand into the trash that is luckily only filled with papers and wrappers, she reaches for the folded note and straightens back up, turning around after taking another look into the hallway, she leans her elbows on the counter, and unfolds the note.

Sure enough, Jennifer’s number is written on the white paper, under her name that is decorated with a heart on the side.

She raises her eyebrows, her lips part in surprise as she stares at it for a long time, unable to make sense of why he would do this.

Not only was she surprised to see him rejecting a girl a few days back, now he has also done… this.

Maybe… just maybe, he is sick of dates that lead to nothing and sex that has no meaning. After all, he did complain about his dislike of meaningless relationships that only consist of sex. It was fun for a while, but he got sick of it, he wanted something different, something real.

So maybe, that is why he keeps rejecting those girls and throwing away notes.

When he comes back a few minutes later, Robin acts innocent but she keeps a close eye on him, taking in the sight of his glowing eyes, the smile that keeps appearing on his lips whenever he gets lost in his thoughts, the blush that sometimes rises to his cheeks – If only she knew the reason behind it.

If only she knew that Steve wasn’t thinking about his upcoming ‘date’ with Jennifer.

If only she knew that he wasn’t rushing home after his shift because of her.

If only she knew what he was really going to be doing tonight.

If only she knew that it would be your door he would knock at.

“Missed me?” You smirk at him after you open the door, leaning against it, you don’t let him in just yet, turning your head to look at the clock in your hallway, “you’re here earlier than usual, someone’s eager to get his dick wet, huh?”

Steve huffs, lips tugging into a smile as he looks away for a moment.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been waiting for me,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, he puts his hand on your waist and pushes you to step back so he can walk into your house, he closes the door behind him, ready to grab your face and pull you into a deep kiss, but you seem to be having different ideas, you take another step back, letting his hand fall to his side as you turn around and make your way down the hallway instead of upstairs into your bedroom.

He furrows his eyebrows as he watches you disappear into the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink?” You call out to him.

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

Usually, you save that for later, but not today.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, looking around the empty hallway, he throws his keys on the counter and makes his way into the kitchen, almost startled by the way you push the cold beer in his hand, your fingers grazing his for a split second before you pull your hand away again, and grab another beer for yourself.

You pop the can and take a sip, eyes staring into his now.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he takes in the look of your darkened eyes, the lust that is clearly there, but there is something else tonight as well, he can’t pinpoint what it is, maybe because it’s a look he had never seen in your eyes until now.

He licks his lips as he eyes the top you’re wearing, low cut and stopping just below your belly button, showing off your cleavage and your soft skin. You replaced your skirt with shorts that are even shorter than what you wore before, but they look much more comfortable, soft and perfect to… sleep in. He can’t wait to rip them off of you and dive his face into your pussy.

He mimics your action, popping open his own can.

“So…” You start, piquing his interest.

He knew there was something, a reason as to why you didn’t pounce on him the way you usually do, the moment you open the door for him.

You start walking into the living room, and he follows.

“You talked to Jennifer today. Having a date, Stevie?” You ask, taking a look over your shoulder.

Something you’ve always been good at, was hiding your true feelings, your jealousy that you have dealt with over the years… but, hiding your jealousy is much more challenging now that you have him in some way. You try your best, you put on a brave, smug face and look at him with a smirk on your lips.

You take a seat on the couch, and he doesn’t hesitate to sit down beside you, eyes glinting with curiosity.

He doesn’t have a date, he doesn’t have one planned, and he’s not looking for one with her either. But you don’t know that, and you don’t have to know that.

There is a sliver of hope in him, that you might ask this question out of jealousy, despite the teasing tone behind your voice, he hopes that it’s that.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he mumbles as he looks down at his beer, he takes a sip, unaware of the glare that is directed at him.

“Aw, why?” You ask, tilting your head at him, “didn’t she fuck like a… goddess?”

When he looks back at you, he finds you staring intensely, the smirk still playing on your lips, though with a hint of tension, your eyes are a little squinted, if he didn’t look so closely, he would’ve missed the fire behind your eyes.

He doesn’t care about how great of a fuck she was, no one is better than you, no one appeals to him the way you do, right now, not that he would ever admit it to your face.

He wants to keep you, he wants you to keep him, he wants you to feel jealous.

“Mmm, can’t remember it that well,” he shrugs, sipping his beer, “so maybe I should refresh my memory a bit.”

You are driven by anger, by jealousy, his words make you see red, it feels as though you are in a haze, you can’t see clearly, you can’t see the look in his eyes, the teasing smirk on his lips, the smugness in his features after saying that to you.

You know he isn’t yours, you know that you’re exclusive, that he can go on dates and fuck as many other girls as he pleases, but you don’t want that.

You want to be the only one.

You want to be his only one.

The fire burns beneath your skin, the gnawing feeling in your chest wanting you to move, to do something, to prove to him that you are the only one that he needs.

You slam your beer on the coffee table, and then you reach for his, quickly placing it next to yours before you turn back to him, scooting closer to him on your knees, you grab onto his shoulders as you straddle him.

His large hands instantly reach for your hips, eyes blazing with lust as his smirk transforms into a lust filled one.

You cup his cheeks and without hesitating to, you smash your lips against his, dragging him into a rough kiss that he reciprocates right away, moaning approvingly as he finally gets what he had been craving all day long.

His fingers dig into your sides as he pulls you closer and closer, until you are flush against him and you are sitting on his dick, the only thing now separating you both are the clothes on your bodies.

You can feel him growing hard beneath you, his dick straining against his jeans and into your center, begging for attention. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and deepen the kiss with a whimper that vibrates against his lips, you taste the beer, the mint gum that he must’ve spit out before he came here. You pick up the pace, kissing him faster, rougher, more desperately.

Your hands leave his face, reaching into his hair instead.

A deep groan leaves his lips at the feeling of your fingers pulling his hair.

You start moving your hips, grinding against him as you keep moving your lips against his, still keeping control – the way you plan to keep all night.

His hands start roaming your body, getting lost beneath your top, he moans when he finds no bra to unclasp. His fingertips graze your smooth skin, moving to your front, he squeezes your waist with both hands, as he tries to buck his hips up to throw you under him, but you don’t budge, not today. You tug at his hair roughly, groaning into the kiss as you grind down harder against him, keeping him in place.

A whimper falls from his lips and he knits his eyebrows together, something deep within him stirs at your action, making him weak beneath you, making him putty in your hands.

You kiss him as though it’s the last thing you will ever do, taking his breath and making it your own as you swallow all his moans, you only pull away when the lack of oxygen gets to you, but you don’t hesitate to tilt his head to the side, and latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and biting his skin the way he usually does to you.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as he grabs your waist even tighter than before, “Blondie.”

His jeans have never felt more uncomfortable than they do right now, dick aching and throbbing as you keep grinding your pussy against it.

He tilts his head further to the side, allowing you more access to his neck, you instantly start peppering kisses along his side and his jaw, switching between sucking and kissing roughly, and Steve basks in the feeling, closing his eyes as he gets lost in the pleasure of your lips blessing him with such intensity.

His heart is pounding in his chest, his stomach swirling with lust as he holds you tightly, wanting to feel you close and closer.

Your hands slip down his stomach, fingers grabbing at his shirt, you pull it over his head swiftly, not wasting more time, you throw it behind you somewhere.

His eyes shoot open, and he looks at you in surprise when you start kissing down his chest instead, nails grazing his shoulder, his collarbones and the hair on his chest before your hands fall lower and lower, skimming his stomach, making him shudder at the feeling. His hands fall to his sides as he stares at you in awe, watching the way your lips trail kisses down his stomach. And then, you fall to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his belt.

“O-Oh shit,” he blurts out, eyes growing wide, “y-you don’t have to,” he rushes, despite feeling the need to see your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

“Shut up,” you nearly growl, “you’re gonna sit there and look pretty for me while I suck your dick.”

“O-Okay,” he whimpers, eyes turning black as he watches you.

Who is he to say no to this, to you anyways?

He had been dreaming of this moment.

You unbuckle his belt hastily, popping open the button on his jeans as you start tugging his pants and boxers down. He lifts himself up a little, helping you. His dick springs free, slapping against his stomach, his tip an angry red as pre cum leaks out and rolls down his length already.

You will never not be amazed by how big he is, no matter the times you have seen him or felt him inside of you.

You lick your lips, placing your hands on his thighs as you move closer to him, you look up into his eyes, the shock, the lust and the desperation in them making you feel satisfied. Because this, all of his feelings, the look in his eyes is only reserved for you, right now. No one else. Just you.

You keep eye contact as you spit into your palm before you wrap your hand around his aching cock.

He furrows his eyebrows, biting his lip as he looks at your much smaller hand, and the way you start jerking him off slowly, teasing him.

“Don’t tease me like that,” he growls.

A huff falls from your lips, the fire inside of you, growing bigger, “don’t tell me what to do.”

Steve had never seen this side of you.

You are bratty sometimes, even mean, but you are never like this, you never order him around or tell him what to do – but this only gives him the confirmation that he needs, you are jealous.

And that fuels his own fire.

“Stop teasing and suck my cock, Blondie.”

You glare at him, clenching your jaw and unclenching it a second later when you move closer and closer until your lips are only inches away from him.

“When’s the last time you got your dick sucked, Stevie?” You ask before you stick your tongue out, pressing the tip to the underside of his cock and licking up to his tip.

A needy moan falls from his lips, and he has to restrain himself from throwing his head back.

“Answer the question,” you murmur as you swirl your tongue around his tip, welcoming the salty taste of his pre cum on your tongue.

You want to know if he has been with anyone else since you, you need to know.

He curses under his breath, curling his fists as he moans again when you keep teasing him with your tongue.

“I-I don’t know! I don’t remember!” He nearly whines in desperation, cheeks growing red under the dim lights in your living room.

He truly doesn’t, it’s been long before you, and it wasn’t very memorable either.

He never let you suck his dick, you don’t know why, but every time you tried to kiss down his body, he pulled you back up and threw you under him instead, using his tongue to pleasure you instead of letting you do the same to him – no guy has ever denied head, no one but Steve and it confused you, but you always guessed that he finds more enjoyment in giving, than receiving.

“Hmm, before me?”

“Yeah, fuck… Yeah, before you!”

Good.

You spit down on his dick, letting it roll down his length before you wrap your lips around him and envelop him with wet warmth as you take him down your throat, tearing a gasp out of him.

He almost jumps up, eyes growing wide as you nearly take his full length. No one has ever been able to take all of him. He is aware of his size, of his length, one girl nearly threw up all over him when his tip hit the back of her throat, but you, you are special.

“Mmm,” you moan around him, closing your eyes as you start sucking him off, like you’re doing it for your own pleasure.

His lips part, jaw dropping as he stares down at you.

You start bobbing your head, slowly at first, moans vibrating against him as you get lost in it.

Steve can’t hold back any longer, he brings his hand down to your head, grabbing your hair as he whimpers your name loudly and it only prompts you to move faster.

You hollow your cheeks around him and take him deeper and deeper, until he hits the back of your throat, and you keep sucking him off with no struggle, you breathe through your nose calmly, moans still falling as you pleasure him in ways no one ever has before.

He nearly wants to curse and pull at your hair when he thinks about how many men had the pleasure of feeling this before him. An ugly feeling bubbling in his chest at the thought of it, he had been so good at pushing those thoughts aside ever since he learned more about your past, ever since you revealed more of your secrets to him. He wasn’t very pleased to find out details about your sex life, a weird feeling cursed through his veins every time he found out something new, but he couldn’t hide his curiosity either, wanting to know things himself… so he can make you feel better than they ever could.

But now is not the time to think of such things, he pushes everything aside, every worry, every weird feeling in his chest, and he focuses on you, just you.

“Y-You’re doing so good, B-Blondie…” He gasps, pulling at your hair a little, he watches you, he watches the way tears start to roll down your cheeks as you suck him off eagerly, desperately, and in such a dirty way.

Saliva rolls down your chin, your moans falling and vibrating against his throbbing cock, glassy eyes now looking up into his as you bring one hand up to his length, using your hand where your mouth can’t reach, while you use your other hand to play with his balls gently.

Steve is speechless, he can’t come up with the right words, he is in awe, in absolute bliss as he gets lost in the pleasure that you bless him with.

You both should’ve done this earlier, much much earlier.

His eyes nearly fall shut, but he doesn’t, he can’t look away from you, not even when his own eyes fill with tears from pleasure, turning the vision in front of him blurry.

He adores your big eyes and your swollen lips as he watches how they move back and forth on his aching dick.

He feels the heat in his stomach spreading, moving down to his pelvis, to his thighs. His breathing gets heavier, the more seconds pass, his moans get louder and needier, his heart starts racing. He is so close, so very close, and it feels so good. Not as good as it feels to be inside of you, to feel you around him, to feel you clinging to his body, to feel how tight you get around him, but this is definitely the second best thing he has ever come to feel.

He nearly starts drooling, unable to close his mouth.

His stomach contracts and he digs his fingers further into your hair, he keeps his hips still, not wanting to gag you.

You remove one hand from him, and move it down your own body, slipping it past your shorts and your panties. You moan around him as you push your fingers through your slick folds, teasing your clit before you slip two fingers inside of you, stretching yourself open for his cock.

“Fuck!” He gasps, watching you wide eyed as your moans get louder, “are you touching yourself?”

Another moan from you is the only confirmation he needs, and that, only brings him closer to his high.

You feel him twitching in your mouth, and you would love nothing more than to keep doing this until he cums down your throat, but you pull away from him, almost smirking at the loud whine that leaves his lips when you release him with a pop!

You’re surprised to see tears in his eyes, desperation lingering in them as he stares at you, waiting for more. He is breathing heavily, his lips parted and cheeks glowing. He looks so good like this, so sexy. It takes everything in you not to sink back to your knees and finish what you started.

You rise to your feet, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach at the sight of his disheveled looks.

You quickly take your shorts and your panties off, letting them pool at your feet.

Steve swallows, cursing under his breath as he leans forward to retrieve the condom he stuck in his back pocket earlier. Before he can even rip the foil apart, you snatch it from his hand and straddle him just the way you did before, you bite your lip as you open the foil and pick out the condom.

Steve doesn’t realize just how fast he is breathing, how needy he seems as he grabs your bare hips with his hands, urging you to put the goddamn condom on his throbbing dick.

You scoot closer, licking your lips as you roll the condom over his length, eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and his lips, a smirk tugging on yours.

Steve can’t help but admire you, staring at your slick and swollen lips, at the tears that pool on your lower lash line, your nipples that poke through your thin top. You’re hot, you’re so fucking hot, he can barely contain himself.

You grab his left shoulder as you use your free hand to tease his cock by slipping it through your folds, making you both moan in pleasure.

“I-I’m gonna… fuck… Blondie!” He warns, glaring into your eyes.

You can’t even help but chuckle, taunting him with a smug smirk on your lips.

He holds your hips tighter, face growing redder, he is ready to flip you over and fuck the brat out of you. He is so close, so goddamn close already, it won’t take much for him to shoot his load into the stupid condom.

You look into his eyes, as you finally give into both yours and his needs, you sink down on his cock, scrunching up your face in pleasure as he splits you open.

“O-Oh,” he groans, gripping your hips so tightly that it’ll definitely bruise your delicate skin, “just like that, ba– good girl.”

You bite your lip so harshly that moments later, you can taste blood, but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything when he is inside of you and his hands hold you so needily.

You take him inch by inch, until his cock is buried deep inside of you and you’re fully seated on top of him.

He is moaning, whimpering beneath you, and you didn’t even get started yet.

You take a moment, a few seconds, to adjust to his size, blinking away the tears that keep building up in your eyes, your mouth waters as the mix of pain and pleasure takes over, you shut your eyes, not seeing him any longer, not seeing the way he’s looking at you, like he is in awe, in utter bliss, like you’re the only thing that matters in this godforsaken world.

His eyes take in the way you throw your head back, the way your lips part in pleasure, the way the strap of your top falls down your arm, exposing more of your chest to him. He licks his lips as he moves closer, kissing your shoulder and up to your neck, trying to distract himself from how good it feels to be balls deep in your pussy that he wishes he could feel around him without the rubber that separates him from feeling you the way he only did once before.

You wrap your arms around him, cupping the back of his neck lightly, as you roll your hips, earning a moan from him.

He instantly pulls away from your neck, stopping the kisses, he needs to see you again, to watch your face contorted in pleasure.

He leans back against the pillows behind him, still holding your hips tightly as he takes a look at you.

Your eyes fall to his neck, you would choke him, that was something you were into before. Before the whole upside down thing happened, before the Demobats choked him, before Jason choked you.

So instead, you grab his hair tightly, knowing that it’ll make him whimper, you pull his neck back, and lean in, licking his skin teasingly before you start kissing him there again and giving the scar around his neck the soft attention it deserves as you roll your hips again, and clench around him.

“Did Jennifer do this to you, Steve?” You murmur against his skin as you press another soft kiss to his scar, “or did she just lay there, making you do all the work?”

He doesn’t know what drives him more crazy, the fact that you’re jealous, the fact that you’re sitting on his cock or the raspiness of your voice as you kiss him like he means something to you.

You roll your hips again and again, making him whine and groan in pleasure, but then, you still on top of him, making him wince as you suck on the side of his neck.

“She totally let you do all the work while she screamed your name to fill your ego, didn’t she?”

He clenches his jaw, growling at you, “Blondie… if you don’t move…”

“If I don’t move, what?” You ask as you pull back to look at him, lips curling into a smirk as you look into his angry eyes, “I can just say no and you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

He gulps at your words, but he nods, hazel eyes taking on the desperation again.

“S-She didn’t ride me,” he admits.

“I know she doesn’t… Billy told me she sucked at it,” you smirk, not giving him the time to react before you finally start moving. Slamming yourself down on his cock.

“Oh fuck, just like that!” He moans, wrapping his arms around you fully as he pulls you flush against him, “don’t stop!”

Your own moans start falling from your lips, hands clinging to his hair now as you ride him.

His hand gripping your sides and tugging at your top, silently begging for you to take it off – and you grant him his wish, pulling back just enough to rid yourself off the skimpy material, you throw it on the couch, gasping in surprise when he buries his face in your chest.

“S-Steve,” you moan as you start bouncing on his cock.

He massages your boobs, moaning against you as he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking it.

You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, shutting your eyes.

“Y-You feel so good,” he stutters against you, “you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“Yeah?” You whimper, grabbing his hair even rougher than before, pulling him back so you can see his face again, his lust filled eyes, his swollen lips, “you drive me crazy too,” you whisper before you slam your lips against his, nudging your nose against his as the kiss starts off roughly. He meant those words physically, while you mean it in a whole other way. More ways than only one.

“Mmm.” He whines as he twitches inside of you.

You know he won’t last much longer, he was ready to bust in your mouth just minutes ago, you’re impressed by the way he is able to hold back for so long.

His hands touch you everywhere, your back, your ass – groping it for a second before he brings it up to your front, tilting his head down, he watches the way you ride him, the way his cock disappears inside of you, a sight that only brings him closer and closer to his orgasm.

The room is filled with moans and whimpers, along with the squelching noises of your pussy, it’s what nears him to the edge he’s been dangerously close to since you wrapped your lips him.

Nothing could be better than this.

Nothing.

Your walls clench around him, and your moans get high pitched now, your lips move lazily against his.

He presses his fingertips against your clit, rubbing circles on your nub.

You respond by grabbing his shoulders tightly and picking up the pace, catching him off guard when you start bouncing harder and faster.

“Holy fuck!” He whimpers as you both break the kiss to look at one another, “I-I’m gonna cum!” He warns, moving his fingers faster on your clit.

You drag your nails down his chest, pressing your palms against his hairy chest as you lean your forehead against his, blinking away the tears of pleasure.

Your breaths mingle together as your noses bump into each other.

“Cum for me, Steve.”

“Cum with me, Blondie,” he demands as he keeps on pleasuring your clit with his calloused fingers.

You press your lips back against his, moaning into the kiss when you let go, and cum around him, as he spills into the condom, groaning loudly as he pulls you close, breathing heavily and whimpering at the feeling of your walls pulsating around him.

You stop moving after a moment, falling against his chest, you break the kiss, sighing in contentment.

Steve is too speechless to speak, still coming down from his high, he breathes heavily as he runs his finger up and down your spine, not knowing that a small action like that, is able to set your heart on fire, making it flutter and race at the same time.

You place your head on his chest, closing your eyes for a moment, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling of him, of the way it feels to be in his arms while he touches you gently, softly, his lips on your shoulders as he kisses you as though you are his, like you are the only one that matters, like you are the only one for him.

When in reality, you’re not.

You’re only this to him, something, someone who keeps him warm.

While he is your everything.

You aren’t the only one, you will never be, and yet, you will always take him back whenever he feels like having your body beneath him, instead of someone else’s, and even though it crushes your heart a little, you will always run into his open arms whenever he wants you.

You open your eyes again, staring into nothing. You only pull away when he stops with the kisses and squeezes your waist, tucking your hair behind your ear as he cups your cheek, pulling you back so he can see your face.

Heat rushes to your cheeks when your eyes meet his again, his dimples show when he smiles at you.

“Well… I discovered something I didn’t know I was into, just now.”

You can’t even help but giggle, pride swelling in your chest.

His eyes light up, he lets his hand move down your side again.

“Ah,” you nod as a smirk reappears on your lips, “that confirms that no one ever rode you before.”

He rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Don’t get fucking cocky now,” he murmurs as he pinches your ass, making you yelp a little.

“Let’s take this upstairs,” he smirks, “I wanna return the favor.”

And just like that, all your worries are out the window for now, because tonight, you are the only one on his mind, tonight he belongs to you.

Eddie is sitting out on the porch, smoking a cigarette as he looks up at the starry sky.

Wayne has a couple of friends over – Hopper included. He hears their laughter echoing in the backyard, the smell of burning wood lingering in the air from the little bonfire.

Eddie blows out the smoke of his cigarette, returning his attention to the notebook on his lap, he skims over the words he wrote before. He is working on a new song, one that he will hopefully play at The Hideout someday, soon.

The sound of footsteps pull his attention away from his notebook again. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks into his darkened driveway, craning his neck to see better.

For a moment, he thinks it’s you, until he sees the bike next to the lone figure that inches closer and closer and he recognizes the short hair and the red converse.

“Buckley,” Eddie says loudly, a grin pulling at his lips, “to what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“Hey,” she mumbles, a serious look in her features – a rare sight to see.

She drops her bike on the grass before she makes her way up on his porch, plopping down beside him. A loud sigh falls from her lips.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, grin slowly falling when he realizes that she’s in a bad mood.

He stubs out his cigarette, knowing that she hates the smell of it.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Did something happen?”

She shakes her head and turns her body towards him, looking into his eyes.

“Steve is lying to me about something.”

“Oh?”

She nods, eying his face, trying to figure him out, if he knows something.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “I-I don’t know what it is, but… we usually tell each other everything, so either, it’s something super embarrassing or… something he doesn’t feel ready to talk about.”

Eddie nods.

“He’s been acting weird for a few weeks now, but it’s not just that.”

Her eyes are troubled as she waves her hands around. “Today, Jennifer Mitchell walked into Family Video.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows again, curiosity sparking inside of him at the mention of that name. He remembers the conversation at the bonfire, how he gloated about that girl.

“She flirted with him and left him a note with her number written on it!”

Eddie chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “okay…?”

“Guess what he did!”

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I dunno, he called her?”

“No!” She throws her hands up, “that’s the thing! He didn’t call her! He threw the note away, but he told me that he’s going on a date with her tonight, when clearly, he isn’t!”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah, oh!” Robin nods, her blue eyes shining with confusion. “But it’s not even the first time that he’s done something like this! Five girls left him their numbers on notes, he threw them all away, every single one of them!”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips together.

“You know, normally I’d think that maybe… maybe he’s sick of all the dates and the sex but I swear to god, he has new hickeys every few days or so… so he’s definitely being sexually active!”

“Huh,” Eddie nods as something sparks in his mind, “that’s uh… interesting.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking!” She raises her hands up, tugging at her hair for a moment as her eyes widen, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the only explanation that I have!”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes, he can see where this is going, what is about to leave her lips.

“And that is?”

She takes a deep breath, blue eyes staring into brown ones as she presses her palms together.

“Steve is gay.”

And Eddie blinks once, twice, three times…maybe sixty times.

“What did you just say…?”

“Think about it!” She nearly yells, “not going out with girls anymore, throwing their phone numbers away, Heidi suddenly being good at sex!?” She scoffs, shaking her head a few times. “Nuh uh. I’m– rejecting girls? Steve!?”

Eddie sits back, and stares into nothing.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, “you think he’s into dick?”

“I’m telling you… I am 90% sure.”

Eddie squints his eyes a little bit.

“What’s the other 10%?”

Amusement flashes in Robin’s eyes as she shrugs, “he’s a stripper in Indianapolis at night.”

Eddie snorts, chuckling as he pinches the bridge of his nose, looking back at the starry sky, he stared at before.

Robin’s explanation makes sense, but he knows what he saw. Steve’s eyes that day in the pool didn’t follow a man’s figure.

They were following his best friend.

♡

A/N: Stripper Steve was Roe's idea, if you're an Eddie girl and you wanna see more of Stripper Steve (and Eddie duh) and you haven't read Do I wanna know go and read it right nowwwww, it's literally one of my fave fics ever

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @joekeerysmoles @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem @agirlwholovesrockstars

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

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